#suspicious minds (supergirl) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thatonebirdwrites · 29 days ago

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Spookycorp

"Oró mo leanbh beag Fan na luí ag mo thaobh Ná scar uaim

(Oh, my little baby Always stay by my side Do not part from me),"

Lena wakes to pain. She shudders and opens her eyes, only to wince at the glare of green light.

When she'd gone to bed that night, she'd curled under her covers in her bed, in her penthouse, where no green light existed. She'd been crying herself to sleep, broken and alone, knowing that no one was coming to save her. Not after what she did to Kara. Not after Non Nocere. Not after Hope-Eve was arrested in her place.

Her fingers sink into loam, the texture fluffy and gritty. Not her bed.

Her head aches, and she pushes herself to her knees.

Opening her eyes cautiously, she realizes she's in a forest. Or what might be a forest. Bright orange tree bark melds into the red and yellow leaves, each fluorescent and glowing. The green light seems to come through the rays of sunlight that curls around the branches like a sensuous light snake.

What the hell?

She's pretty certain she did not take any drugs last night. Nor did she drink much more than two glasses of scotch. That's not enough to cause hallucinations. Surely not? Unless someone poisoned her? She wouldn't put it past Alex, if she felt the need to eliminate Lena due to what she'd done.

She'd deserve it. Guilt merges with her fear and confusion.

The crack of a twig catches her attention. She turns her head to see several mice crawl out from under a bush. They line up in a row and stand on their hind legs to sniff the air.

"A human." They say in what sounds like a foreign language but the words translate in Lena's mind. Which is preposterous, and yet here they are talking.

Their words bounce between each of them. "What's a human doing here?" says one. Another interrupts, "A human! Humans are a myth." A third cuts in, "no, look, it's looking at us. It's real." A fourth adds, "A human here? How strange!"

Lena blinks and wonders if she's lost her mind. "Talking mice?" she says out loud. Considering all that has happened, maybe she has lost her mind. Seems the Luthor way.

The mice hop backward at her words. "It speaks!" One squeaks. Another, who wears pants on its lower half and a vest on is top half like some sort of Disney character, chatters, "Is it intelligent?"

"Yes," Lena says, irritated. "Where am I?" She really is mad for talking to mice, but she needs to figure this place out so she can return home.

"She doesn't know?" Says the smallest one. "How does she not know?" the clothed one replies. A third one, the roundest of the quartet, says "They must not be intelligent." The fourth one interrupts, "Oh, but they are here. We must answer."

The way they talk over one another annoys Lena further. She grips the bark of the nearest tree to leverage herself to her feet. Dizziness assaults her, and she has to briefly close her eyes until the world steadies. When she opens them, nothing has changed. The mice still argue, the colors are all wrong, and the sun beams seem almost alive.

"You seek answers. Seek the Mad Hatter," the clothed mice says. "Yes, yes!" chatter the others, "The mad hatter knows all!"

What the fuck? "That's a children's story. Alice in Wonderland." This must be a tripped out dream. There's no way she was in wonderland.

The mice hop back and forth in excitement, chanting, "the human knows after all! Smart human. Good human. See the mad hatter!" They dart back into the bush.

Lena's left wondering how in hell she'll find this mad hatter, and why would she want to talk to someone mad. That sounds like an opportunity for disaster.

But considering she has no idea where she is, she dusts off her pajamas -- the Supergirl ones she'd bought years ago as a guilty pleasure, ironic that she'd worn it last night. Even after everything, she can't let go of Kara. She starts down the narrow trail through the psychedelic forest.

Whispers and crinkles of creatures in the forest herald her progress. One sounds suspiciously like a lullaby she hasn't heard in years.

"Oró mo stóirín Thug tú dochas mo stóirín Go mbeidh mé slán

(Oh my darling You give me hope, my darling May I be safe)"

The sun beams continue to snake and seethe with an alarming energy. Several times, one of the beams slithers over her shoulder, and it burns. She jerks away, her clothes smoking and a charred mark on her garment.

The path curls around massively colorful trees, their roots seeming to appear out of nowhere as if to purposely trip Lena. Branches catch locks of her hair, and she has to untangle herself in a fit of fury. She starts to duck each time a branch moves even a quarter of an inch.

The path stops abruptly at a massive stone wall. The stones are layered like an old medieval fence, and it looms at least ten feet if not taller. Trees crowd her right and left, and Lena can't see any other way forward.

Unless she climbs.

Her feet ache in time with her head, as she's barefoot and the ground a litany of bruises and cuts with each step. Sure, why not add climbing to her soreness?

She grips a stone above her head, and nestles her foot on a lower one close to the ground. Slowly, she maneuvers up the stone wall. As she progresses she feels the middle of the wall expand outward then retract, almost like it breathes.

The fuck?

"Oh," a deep voice echoes around her. "Oh... feels good." The words are said slowly as if the creature chews on each.

Lena freezes, clinging to the wall. "Who are you?" She scans the area, but she can't see anything beyond the wall and the trees, who crowd the wall as if the path she'd taken never existed.

"Oh... you climb me...." the wall expands and retracts as each word takes almost a minute to complete.

"You got to be shitting me," Lena mutters. "A talking wall. Talking mice. Light snakes. What's next?"

"Haaaaats," the wall replies. "Preeetty haaats. Climb human. Seeeeee for yourself."

Lena frowns and resumes her climb. Better to get the fuck off this creature before it decides to eat her or something. She scrambles up the last few feet and pulls herself atop it. Her breath catches in her throat.

Bright blue grass flows outward from the wall and coats rolling hills. In the distance she can see clusters of buildings around a stream that glows green, and beyond that, farther away, a massive red and white tower looms like a threatening sentinel. Dark clouds with lightning hover above the castle, but the sky above the rolling hills is cloudless and bright. The sun above a green hue with the faint imprint of what looks almost like a face.

Lena looks away before the sun can burn her eyesight. She turns and looks behind her, only to see the canopy of the psychedelic forest stretch for miles until they reach what looks like massive mountain peaks, or more like rocky spires.

She doesn't see any hats though. She wonders if she misheard the wall. It did speak far too slow.

Right. She's pondering what a speaking wall said. Great. Definitely losing her mind.

The wind whistles around her, and for a moment, that song returns.

"Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…

(Sleep peacefully, sleep peacefully Sleep peacefully, my sweet child…)"

Hadn't her birth mother sang that to her when she was alive?

Unnerved, she hurries down the pasture-side of the wall. Because she's in a rush, she misses one of her footrests and slips. She tumbles and lands on her side. Pain blossoms in her arm.

"What a fall!" an unfamiliar voice says. "Beautiful fall. But not graceful fall. Eight out of ten. Yes, yes, eight out of ten."

She pushes herself upright and comes face to face with a massive rabbit, who wears a bright red top hat and a scarlet vest with blue pants. Stunned, she stares at rabbit, speechless.

"Aw, what do you see?" The rabbit hops around her. "What captures your eye, fall-er? Do you wish to fall again? Improve your score? What a game! Let us fall, tumble, prance, dive." The rabbit leaps upward, bounces off the wall, and crashes to the ground next to her in a badly done roll.

"Who the hell are you?" Lena dusts dirt off her pants and tries to adjust her clothes to look at least somewhat dignified, and not at all like she stood in pajamas in a tripped-up world.

"Ah, she asks questions! Questions require answers. Oh, how shall we answer?" The rabbit hops up to her, and beady black eyes survey Lena. "Mad. We are mad. You are mad. We are all mad. Come. You require tea. Everyone requires tea. Tea requires tea."

The rabbit pulls a golden watch out of their vest and looks at it. "Oh dear, oh dear indeed! We will be late. We cannot be late. Come, come, we must be tea. Tea must be us. We will drink tea. Tea requires us." It hops up a hill and pauses to look back at Lena.

What the hell, she has no idea what else to do. "Fine, I'm coming." She stomps up the hill, angry and irritated. The pain in her arm throbs in tune with her feet and head.

The rabbit moves far faster than Lena. She struggles to keep pace and resorts to a jog. The rabbit -- Mad Hatter maybe? -- keeps up a strange commentary that dances between topics faster than Lena's grumbling protests.

"-- look at the sky. Clouds hide from the sun. Did you know the sun is a sun? What is a sun? The sun is the sun. What a strange word, sun. Three letters, like the three of the sun."

What the hell does that even mean? "Slow down," Lena grumbles under her breath.

The rabbit ignores her. "Humans. What is a human? You are a human. Humans are human. No a sun. Not me. I am not human. Or am I human? Tea is tea, and humans like tea. I like tea. Is that enough to be human? What suffices?"

"Humans are more than tea-drinkers," Lena retorts, somewhat offended.

The rabbit finally slows as it approaches a clearing with wooden walls and vines hanging along the walls. Once they're within three feet, the walls open and the rabbit darts through. Lena stumbles through, only to stop in surprise.

A table and chairs are set up atop checkered tiles. Tea pots litter the table, and tea cups sit in front of each place setting. A few other animals sit at some of the chairs -- mice, a giraffe (she's baffled as to how the giraffe fits on that tiny chair), an elephant (half of it doesn't seem to exist in this world as it keeps fading in and out), a dog, a cat, and a tall, golden-haired person with her back to Lena.

The person hovers over a stove and hums a tune that sounds strangely like the song Kara used to sing all the time during her pop-techno phase. This one hits her hard as Kara sang it each time they'd cooked together.

"Tell me, how do you fight a machine? You follow the sound of your heart in the dream Áddjá I've got change in my eyes But I'm singing for you Mun jearán áddjás."

The golden hair sweeps down the person's back in tight ringlets. Voluminous pants swish as the person moves back and forth as if dancing to the tune. The shirt has ruffles around the neck and large, balloon like sleeves. The colors are blue and red, and the person feels familiar.

Yet, it can't be. Lena stares, stunned, motionless.

The rabbit tugs on her arm. "Aha, tea party! It is nearly time. Time, time, time, we can't be late now." The Mad Hatter taps its pocket watch. "Come, we mustn't be late. Late is poor etiquette, bad. Not good. We cannot allow not good. We must be good. Wonderful. Happy. Come!"

She lets the rabbit pull her across the short distance to the table.

When she reaches an empty chair, that's when the person turns with a ridiculously ornate pot of tea in their hands -- a pot that looks oddly like a tea with a bulb-like base. Sapphire eyes meet Lena's, and a smile curves the rosy-pink lips. Her tanned skin glows almost in the green-tinted light.

She looks like Kara Danvers, but that can't be.

She stares, frozen to the ground, unable to move.

The last time she saw Kara had been at that icy fortress. She'd unleashed her anger and pain, but even as she had told Kara the truth, poured out what she'd done, what Kara had done to hurt her, she'd desperately wanted Kara to fix it.

Or was that just a dream? She struggles to remember, but the memory feels hazy. Indistinct.

Maybe the last time was when she pressed the signal watch to trick Kara into coming to her so Andrea could infiltrate the DEO.

Or did that happen? Is it another dream? Her memory feels patchy, unreal, and the world around her seeps through her with a chill that leaves her trembling with fear.

Is this really Kara? The one she loves? The one she hates? The one she can't escape?

"Kara?" she breathes out. She trembles and looks around for a way out, but the wooden trellis that circles them has no doorway. Only wood and vines.

The person tilts her head. "Kara?" she repeats. "Odd." She pours tea into one of the animals' cups. She realizes that the animals all wear hats of different colors and styles, and their vests are glittering. "You are a funny human," the Kara-like person says in Kara's voice.

"If -- if you're not Kara, then who are you?" Lena feels unmoored.

"Who am I indeed?" Kara-like person grins. "Come, join us. It's tea time. We mustn't be late."

Fear drips down Lena's spine. She sits down gingerly. Something is majorly wrong here, but she can't figure out what to do. How to break whatever spell has her trapped in this hell place.

"Ah, tea!" cries the rabbit. It raises its cup, this one decorated with flowers that writhe across the porcelain. "Tea invigorates. Rejuvenates. Tea is tea. Tea becomes us. We become tea. Drink, friends. Drink to the One Who Sees All!"

The chorus of animals cheer and raise their own intricately decorated cups. The Kara-like person approaches Lena and pours her tea. It's an amber-liquid, and her sapphire eyes bore into Lena. "Drink, Lena," she says. "Drink and be one with the tea. Becomes the tea, the tea becomes you. The One Who Sees All delights in your presence."

Lena pushes away from the table. "No." The world around her flickers as if an unsteady television show. All the animals turn and stare at her.

One in particular-- the violet-hued cat, grows in size, and its grin expands dramatically. "Ah, the humans fears us. How delightful. Come, come, drink, human. Drink and be tea." Its body starts to slowly vanish until only its grin and blood-red eyes glare into Lena's soul. "Wash away your troubles. No more pain. No more suffering."

Lena backs away until her back hits the vine-crusted trellises. "No. No, that's not right."

The cat blinks out of existence. The giraffe turns to her next, its body rippling like water. "You call to us. The drink calls you. The One Who Sees All appreciates your work." The giraffe laughs, until its body fades into a silhouette of its outline, but then that too fades.

She has to get out of here. "Kara, please," she turns to the only other human. "You said my name. We need to get out of here."

The Kara-look-alike tilts her head, only to tilt it more and more until it's almost at a ninety-degree angle with her body. "Kara, Kara, you say Kara, but is it Kara you desire? Or Kara you wish to dominate you? Kara you wish to destroy? Kara you seek, you reject, you hurt, you save."

Terror grips her, and she tries to climb the trellis, but the vines whip around her wrists. Tugs her firm against the wood, and she's trapped. Tied up and unable to pull free. It holds her fast.

The Kara-like person jerks back into a more human form and then briefly vanishes, only to reappear closer. A teacup is in her hands. The liquid isn't amber-hued anymore. It's blood-red.

Lena clamps her mouth shut and turns her face away.

"Drink. Drink. No more pain. No more suffering. No more life. All is one. We see all. We are the One." Kara's voice sounds sweet, gentle almost, but her words carry a horror that twists Lena's stomach. "The One Who Sees All gives us life. Is that not what you desire?"

She's only a foot away, and she raises the cup of blood-like liquid. "If not tea, perhaps wine? You love wine. Wine loves you. We all are wine too." She grins, her teeth sparkling white, and her eyes crescents almost in her face.

The feel of this fake-Kara's hands on her face gives her a strength she didn't know she had. She screams and tears one leg free. She kicks the interloper and rips free an arm. She punches that perfect face.

"No. You aren't Kara!" She tears free of the vines and bats away the cup. Blood splashes across the blue grass and it wilts into brown.

The Fake-Kara stumbles backward. All the animals vanish, except for the rabbit, who jumps on the table and cackles.

"You fight! Human fights! Fighting human. Can you free yourself? Stop the madness? Go, go, and fight the One Who Sees All. Then and only then truth will appear."

It won't shut up. Lena throws a fist of soil at it, but the rabbits dodges. "The truth tea, the Tea of truth. The tea to end all teas. Ha, the human is foolish. Foolish and late. Late, late, late." The rabbit bounds up and over the vine-encrusted walls.

She's suddenly alone.

Her breathes come fast and ragged. Soil dribbles from her fingers. The table is empty except for cups and wine bottles, the tea pots gone. Red liquid spills across the table and stains the wood.

Lena's angry. Furious. How dare this place mimic Kara. How dare it! Kara of all people doesn't deserve this vile imitation.

"One Who Sees All!" Lena shouts. "Show your measly face! And leave Kara alone!"

The sky clouds over, and lightning flashes. Thunder roars and rain erupts. It floods the ground, washes away the vine-trellises, and the table floats away like a boat. The water tugs and pulls at her legs, threatening to toss her asunder.

The wind howls its song. "Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…"

Distracted by the song, she loses sight of the table. Something slimy grabs her legs and tugs her under. Water gushes into her mouth, and horror pierces her chest.

NO! She thrashes against the cold hand on her leg, and slams her foot into something soft.

Abruptly, she's released. She breaks the surface with a gasp.

Desperately, Lena struggles to stay afloat, but then the table floats just close enough for her to snag it. The wood splinters pierce her skin. Blood dribbles as she hauls herself atop it. She shivers and stares at what almost became her grave.

The waters raise higher. Her raft floats and spins as the waters continue to rise. Bits and pieces of debris litter the waves, and the lightning cavorts as if laughing above her, forming eerie grins.

She clings to her make-shift raft with all her strength. Hands pierce the water's surface, and she's drenched by another wave that forms into hands that tug and pull at her clothes and hair. She kicks the watery arms away.

The massive red and white tower looms before her, still a few miles away, but as the lightning grins once more, she sees a figure atop the tower. One with black hair pulled into a ponytail, and a large white cloak across their shoulders. The face is clouded in shadow, and the vision splinters at the next crack of thunder.

Lena's head splinters with pain. She grabs the table, and holds on for dear life as it spins and splashes. Water soaking her to the bone.

Time ceases to hold meaning. She knows not how long the table spins out of control on the raging waters, but it eventually comes to a stop against a massive boulder. She shivers and looks up to see black rock, shiny like obsidian almost. The table is lodged between two boulders. The waters have receded, and a path forms between the massive rocks.

Lena tries to wring out her pajamas to no avail. Giving up, she slides off the table and hits the mud. It squelches under her feet.

There's no where else she can go but forward. She clenches her fists and stalks up the winding path.

Exhaustion weighs on her. Her feet crunch against the gravel, and the creepy silence wraps tight around her. She feels blocked in, trapped, as the black rocks loom over her. Only a small sliver of sky peers into the gorge, the sunbeam twisting and turning but not quite reaching her.

She walks in gloom. It saturates her with a growing despair.

That's when the whispers start.

"Don't you dare, Alex!" Kara's voice echoes softly, despite her tone sounding like she shouts, and yet it's so faint, Lena almost misses it. "We haven't exhausted our options! I won't let you do this."

Another voice whispers. "We don't have time to deal with this. She chose this. Let her face the consequences." Cold, calculated Alex.

"Lena, Lena, what's wrong?" Kara again.

"Goddammit Lena, answer your damn phone! Don't make me come out there. You don't get to ghost your own goddaughter." This time it's Sam.

"Why won't she reply, Mom? Something's wrong, isn't it?" Ruby whispers.

"I'm sorry," Lena chokes out the words and tears sting her eyes. She'd avoided answering Sam's calls, and well, everyone's calls. She'd focused only on Non Nocere, her single-minded focus turning her into a spear of revenge and anger.

"What do you think is happening?" It's a voice she doesn't quite recognize. "I liked our project. This isn't solar energy. You don't think she's losing her mind like her brother?"

Workers. Her workers at L-Corp.

"This doesn't make sense. What could this part be for?"

"I won't do it. I'm quitting. She's just like her brother. Just hid it longer."

She shivers and puts her hands over her ears but it doesn't keep the whispers out. If anything they grow louder with each step she takes.

And weirder. As if now they shift from past to potential futures.

"I feel strange, Mom," Ruby says. "Like I can't think."

"I know, hun. It's..." Sam's voice sounds confused. "We are safe. Everything is okay. We are free now." Her voice changes to a dull tone, one that echoes eerily with some of the animals at that tea-wine party.

"Mom! Mom, what's wrong with you? What's wrong with everyone?" Ruby cries.

"Hush, we are all fine. We are all fine." Sam's tone is calm, unrelenting.

"Stop it!" Lena shouts. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want Sam and Ruby hurt. "Leave them alone!"

More whispers trickles through the black walls that enclose her in darkness. She stumbles over rocks she can't see, forced to feel her way forward.

"Alex? Alex, what's wrong with you?" Kara frantically says.

"Nothing is wrong, Kara. I feel wonderful." Alex's voice intones in that same dull tone Sam had. "I feel free. Unburdened. Don't you?"

"No, no." Horror sour Lena's stomach, and she stifles a sob. She has to get out of here. She begins to run, but she trips over an unseen boulder. "This isn't real!" She screams at the invisible voices, the black walls, the darkness that throttles her with despair. "Stop being a coward! Face me!"

Her words echo through the dark tunnel, and for a moment, the whispers stop.

Instead, the sound of something large being dragged starts up behind her. She turns and squints. A faint light pulses behind her, and with each pulse, she briefly sees the obsidian path light up. The road lifts up and rolls like paper.

She turns and runs away from the rolling ground. It squelches closer. She keeps tripping, the darkness pitch-black and makes her eyes ache.

"Kara, please," Lena whispers. She pushes off the ground after another fall. Her knees and hands are bloody, and her head throbs with pain. "Please, I'm sorry. I never wanted this..."

But did she? She made Non Nocere. She'd forced Eve to become her AI's body. She'd done horrors that rival Lex's.

Or was that all a dream too? Lena's not sure anymore. Her memories feel destabilized, like she's dropping backward in time, losing bits of herself the longer she's trapped in this nightmare.

This is all her fault, isn't it?

Everyone she loves is in danger, aren't they? Darkness smothers her, and steals the breath from her lungs. She chokes on her hubris, her foolishness, her horror.

Despair brings her to her knees, and she sways, ready for the horror behind her to pierce her chest. To end this torment finally.

"Lena..." a soft voice murmurs her name with a tenderness that Lena rarely heard. "Lena, luv, keep fighting. Keep moving. This is not your end."

That Irish accent -- it sounds almost like her birth mother. Or what Lena had imagined was her mother's voice. "Mom?" she gasps out. Pain sears through her wounds, and she struggles to her feet.

A wind brushes against her cheek from further up the path. A soft melody ripples along its currents.

Oró mo leanbh beag Agus paidir ó mo chroí Tá do tsaol romhat

(Oh my little babe And a prayer from my heart For the life in front of you.)"

A glow of yellow appears up ahead. A woman who looks eerily like herself, but with softer cheekbones and jaw. She smiles, and it's a tender one. "Follow, luv. Don't look back. Come." As she moves, she sings the same song the wind whispers.

Lena stumbles to her feet. Behind her, the grinding of collapsing roads and boulders echo with a growing cacophony, but she doesn't look back. She pushes toward the glowing figure, who turns to walk steadily up the steepening road.

Up and up she climbs. The ground shakes under her feet. She falls against the obsidian wall, it's stone freezing cold. She jerks away and keeps moving.

A soft Irish lullaby serenades her ears from the figure ahead. The Irish Lena can't remember how to speak, but it soothes her despair, gives her courage to keep moving, to keep trying.

"Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…"

She tumbles out of the obsidian paths and onto a tundra studded with flowers. The sudden sunlight nearly blinds her, and she shields her eyes at first. As her eyes adjust, she lowers her hand.

"Mammy?" the Irish slang for mother falls from her lips, and she feels small and scared.

Her mother stands a few feet away and smiles at her. "You are okay, luv. You don't face this alone."

"Mammy," Lena stumbles toward her, the ground uneven. "Why am I here? I just want to go home."

"Luv, I wish I could take this pain from you, but I cannot." Her mother's smile turns sad, and her green eyes pierce through to Lena's soul. "To return home, you must defeat the darkness within. Let light fill you, luv. Don't look back. Do not give in to the temptations."

"Mammy...." Lena reaches for her, but her hand passes through her mother's arm. Tears cloud her vision. "Mammy, please..."

"I'm always with you, luv. Just close your eyes and listen to the wind sing." Her mother's ghostly hand tenderly touches her cheek. It's warm, far warmer than she expected. "Now go, luv. Save your the ones you love."

Lena closes her eyes and feels the warmth of her mother's hand, and that's when she hears it -- the wind sings the Irish Lullaby as it sweeps across the mossy rocks and flowers.

Oró mo leanbh beag Glac mo chomhairle cinnte Mo grá go sámh

(Oh my little babe Take my sure advice My peaceful love)."

Determination cements within, and Lena opens her eyes with a smile. Her mother has faded, but the gold of her form swirls along the wind and flows across the tundra toward the red-white tower.

The tower raises high above the mountainscape, and its windows glare with a darkness that oozes and crawls down its walls like streaks of mold.

Lena takes a deep breath and walks toward it. Behind her, she hears the crunch of boots. The swish of something slicing the air, and its screeching howls chills her bones.

She refuses to look back. Her pace quickens into a jog, but the one pursuing her persists.

"At least I won't die a fool," Lex's voice taunts her from behind. "You can't even see what's in front of you!"

"No." Lena starts to run. She's so close to the tower now. "I see clearly for once!"

"Fool. You think you act of your own volition? I seeded your project, planted and nurtured it, and it blooms. Oh, how it blooms. You are my final weapon, Lena."

Lena grits her teeth with a growl. "Not anymore, Lex!" She skids around a boulder. A whistling sound hurls toward her, and she ducks instinctively. A spear embeds itself in the stones ahead of her. She starts to dodge back and forth, to keep herself as harder target.

More spears whistle and shatter against boulders.

One nicks her shoulder when she fails to dodge in time. Pain blooms, and blood trickles from the wound. Still she refuses to look behind her.

Stay focused. Keep moving. Don't look behind her. That's what her mother told her.

So she keeps pushing forward. The tower leers down at her, and that silhouetted figure atop it stands at its turrets, their hands on the stone, and their body leaning outward to watch her. Black hair billows in the wind, but the face stays shrouded in shadow.

Distracted, a spear slices along her side, and she gasps with a stumble. Her hand presses against the cut, blood staining her pajamas.

She hears the whistling of a throw, and lurches to the left.

Another spear slices through the air just where her head had been. Laughter surges behind her as her assailant closes the distance between them.

She scrambles to her feet and rushes forward.

Ahead the doorway to the tower glows a blood-red, its doorknob white-hot. Steam rises from it.

Another spear slices through the fabric of her pajamas, barely missing her skin. Shit. She dodges to the left, then right.

"You can't escape destiny, Lena." Her brother cackles behind her, his voice loud. "We are Luthors. We destroy. We conquer. We are Power, and we will rule. Give in. Become us. Become our weapon."

"Never!" Lena throws herself at the door. It burns her hand, but she twists the knob and shoves her shoulder against the wood. "I'm not a full Luthor, Lex. I'm part Irish, and I won't forget my roots."

The door creaks and a gap appears. She ducks at another whistling sound, and a spear embeds in the wood above her head. Another crash of her shoulder against the door, and the gap widens just enough. She slithers through, and quickly slams it shut behind her.

Darkness greets her along with an all-encompassing silence.

No, not fully dark. She sees a sapphire and emerald lights at what appears to be the start of a spiral staircase. The light casts long shadows, and she sees bodies.

So many bodies, many of them distorted and twisted in on themselves. Like someone had turned them into living knots. They moan and groan in pain.

"Save us," they whisper.

She shivers.

These aren't all humans. Some are aliens.

Aliens that Lex tortured in Kasnia. Others who'd been trapped in the power plant, and still others who died by Medusa or Lex's Red Sun attack.

"I'm sorry," Lena whispers. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to touch one of them. Warm skin under her hand.

The alien looks at her with wide brown eyes. Their body untwists at her touch, and they breath in relief. The warmth drains into a deathly cold. "Thank you..." Their body stiffens in death.

Tears scalds her, but she walks the length of the room and touches each victim. Each one whispers a thank you and fades into death. She can't save them.

She was too late to save them.

The stairs loom, and when she looks up, she sees the coils of darkness that swirl just out of reach of the burning torches. The blue one burns brighter than the green.

That's the one Lena grabs. As her fingers curl around its metal base, she feels a surge of warmth and the soft, brief whisper of the Irish lullaby.

Oró mo leanbh beag Agus paidir ó mo chroí Tá do tsaol romhat

(Oh my little babe And a prayer from my heart For the life in front of you)."

As she climbs, her torch spills blue light over her body and in a circle that is at least a foot in radii.

Beyond the light, the shadows seethe and howl like banshees. Faces loom in the walls, and as her torch light plays over their sunken features, she realizes they are yet more dead, more innocents tortured by Lex.

One she recognizes as the man who died during her Harun-el trials, the one who'd eagerly joined the trial in hopes of walking again.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, in pain. She hadn't meant for him to die. She'd been so sure it was safe enough for human trials. And yet, his face glares back at her. Judging her.

She looks away and climbs higher.

Whispers tug at her eardrums, but they make no sense, most gibberish, but others sound almost like past conversations she's had.

She hears her own voice speaking to Andrea, how she'd used Andrea to hurt Kara. Another memory surges of her speaking to Kara and Kara's mother, where she'd handed over the Harun-el and its recipe.

"Stop it!" she shouts. But the voices continue.

"Leave me! Save the chemicals!" she hears herself shout.

"No, never! Climb Lena, Climb!" Supergirl -- no Kara -- shouted back.

Tears dampen her cheeks. How many times had Kara saved her? How many times had she saved Kara?

Each step weighs her down, and she struggles to lift her feet for the next step. The torch sputters in her hand.

Each segment of memory haunts her, each shared moment a reminder of the bonds she has with Kara, Sam, Ruby, and Kara's friends.

She can't escape them.

She doesn't want to escape them.

She wants to go home.

"Home," her own voice growls. "There is no such thing. We can trust no one."

"No," Lena says, weakly. She's so, so tired. More and more steps await her, and the top of the spire looks impossibly far. More and more faces are etched in the walls, some trapped in a screaming pose.

"Yes, all we trust betrays. They will all pay."

"No." Lena says more firmly. "No, I will not fall for this." Her mother told her to keep going. To defeat the darkness within, and she refuses to let her mother down. She'll finish this even if it takes all of her strength and willpower.

She clenches her jaw and looks ahead at the gloom. Shadows dance at the edges of her light. Squelches and screams echo around her, and behind her, she hears the clomp of another set of feet.

Don't look back. She picks up her pace and raises her torch higher.

"Turn around. Around you turn. See the truth." The faint Irish accent sounds like her birth mother, but there's an odd echoing quality.

"No. I won't." Lena resists the urge to check.

The voice changes to Kara's sweet tones. "Lena, I'm here, just look back. I can help."

"Nice try, nope." Up another set of stairs, higher she holds the torch. Each step shakier, her legs trembling from the strain. Cold bites into her, and she shivers violently.

"Oh come on, Luthor, you can't do this alone. Let us help." It sounds like Alex and yet not.

"Hun, we're here. Just look back." This time it's Kelly.

Something stalks her, and hurls the voices of those she cares about like spears.

Lena resists and scrambles up a set of steps that are strewn with bones. Most don't look human, but instead are too long or too thick or too bird-like. Alien bones.

Cold air brushes across her skin, and laughter cackles around her. The footsteps grow closer.

Sweat dampens her roots, and she almost trips at the next step. Her torch flickers dangerously as it tumbles out of her hand, rolling to the edge of the step.

For a brief moment, darkness descends. Slimy tentacles curl over her body, around her throat and arms.

"Get away!" She leaps forward and snags the torch before it falls. The blue light flickers but steadies, and she desperately waves it back and forth.

The shadows hiss and dissipate into a sour smoke.

She shudders.

The footsteps behind her clomp just below her, and she hears the sound of creaking. She staggers to her feet and leaps up the steps. The thud of metal on stone echoes behind her.

Shit. She looks over the walls, but there's no other weapon. Only faces twisted in agony, the blue light of her flickering torch, and endless stairs.

"Fuck." She scrambles upward, frantically. The footsteps continue, each thrust of its weapon clanging against stone, her dodges barely in time.

That's when the whispers start up again. "Save us, please." The faces plead from their stone coffins. "Release us. Save us. Please"

"I'm trying." Lena scrambles up another set of stairs. Her muscles ache, and her head throbs. She's too slow in her dodge, and metal cuts along her leg.

She gasps at the burning pain.

No, she can't stop. She pushes forward.

"Avenge us. Release us." The chorus of dead surge in volume. She is deafened. She can no longer hear the sound of movement behind her, but still she races upward, dodging right and left to keep herself from being an easy target.

Pain seethes through her, and the shadows whip at the edges of her light.

A landing up ahead. Lena takes the steps two at a time and reaches it just as a spear embeds in the wall to her left. The face pierced screams.

She runs along the landing, toward a door ahead. Shadows screech around her. Tendrils dance into her light to pull at her hair and clothes. The blue light sears them, and with a scream, they retreat.

The metallic stomps sound like armor, and her pursuer persists.

Don't look back. She chants it to herself, but the urge to check grows with each dash forward. There's no places to hide here, and her light's circle has shrunk. More tendrils rip at her clothes and hair.

A monstrous body slithers into her light, no arms or eyes. Its legs propel it forward. Lena leaps away from it, but it squelches behind her to circle around and reappear on her left. She waves her torch at it, and embers fly off.

The creature screeches when the embers touch it. It slithers away.

Lena's feet hits against scattered stone. She nabs one, and when it slithers back, she hurls the rock at is faceless face. The rock sends it skidding into the wall. Lena snatches another and hurls two more for good measure. The creature lays motionless.

Breathing heavily, Lena picks up another rock and holds it like a knife. The door glows in front of her. With a running start, she slams herself against the door, and it swings open at her momentum.

She stumbles out of the stairwell and into a large room full of bookcases, red carpet, a piano, but dust coats it all. A sheet covers the piano and the sofa. The books smell of mildrew, many ruined, but a few glow softly.

Confused, she walks up to one and studies is spine. She can't make out any words. She reaches up to touch it, but a chill emits from the tome, it frosts her hand, burning with cold. She snatches her hand away.

The books and her torch are the only lights.

"Come now, Lena, don't slouch. Shoulders back, chin up." Lillian's voice emits from a different book.

"Honestly, you are hopeless. Did you think you'd ever amount to your brother's greatness?" The hiss of anger sears through her. She recoils from the bookcases.

But Lillian's voice stalks her. "You took my family from me. I never wanted you, but here we are. All that's left." Hatred mixed with love coats Lillian's words.

Lena freezes in the center of the room. Beyond the piano, she sees another door, this one metal and ornately carved with Luthor symbols.

"You're a Luthor, Lena. Act like one. It's time you take up the mantle. Become us."

"No..." Lena shakes her head.

A creaking of a rusted joint catches her attention. She looks to her right, and barely dodges the punch of a Lexosuit.

It twists and dives at her. She throws herself forward just in time. It crashes into another bookcase.

Green energy lights up its right arm, and the headless suit turns to point its cannon at her. She throws her rock, but it only harmlessly dents its side.

Lena dives behind the piano. The blast incinerates part of the bookcase. Her torch sputters. Dammit, low on fuel.

Clomps as the suit rounds the piano to face her again. She looks down the barrel of the cannon.

"Not this time," she growls. She shoves the torch into the cannon and sprints for the door. An explosion rocks the room, and she stumbles. Shards of metal cascade around her, several slicing into her arms and legs. One cuts her cheek.

She reaches the door and tugs it open with all her might.

Green-yellow light floods the room, and she steps onto the wide balcony at the top of the tower.

The figure with black hair stands with her back to her, her hands clasped at her back. "So you've made it," she says in Lena's voice.

Wind whips her hair around her face in a veil of black. It howls a despairing lullaby, one that sounds like her mother's but distorted by pain.

She's coated in bruises and cuts. She has no weapons, no torch, and the wind tugs at her ripped pajamas.

"Who are you? And what do you want?" Lena lifts her chin and speaks with a confidence she doesn't feel.

"Don't you know?" The figure turns.

Lena takes a step backward in horror.

It's her face. The Other-Lena smiles, but it's a twisted grin, one born of malice.

"Ah, so you do recognize me. You are not as stupid as I assumed." The Other-Lena stalks toward her. Her clothes are hidden by the sheets of armor, pieces of a lexosuit forged into a more lithe and compact suit. Except for her right forearm, where a cannon sits attached, it's green pulsing along its wires.

"You're my darkness," Lena says.

"I am more than you could ever be," Other-Lena snarls. "I will finish what we started. No more pain. No more suffering. All will be at peace."

Lena shakes her head. "That's not possible. I see that now. Suffering can't be erased. But we can do better. We can make people's lives better without stealing their free will."

Other-Lena laughs. "Fool. You have nothing with which to defeat me." She stops a foot away and raises her right arm.

Exhaustion and pain coats Lena's body. She needs to dodge, to find a place to hide, to figure out how to fight back, but she's so tired.

The wind curls around her, and with it comes her mother's lullaby.

Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…

(Sleep peacefully, sleep peacefully Sleep peacefully, my sweet child…)

Warmth and love saturates her from the sweet melody. Her mother's love gives her strength, and she holds up her arm.

The green erupts from the cannon, but a yellow shield appears on Lena's arm and the blast sweeps around her, leaving her unharmed.

Other-Lena snarls and rushes her.

Lena holds her ground, her shield arm still upraised. A verse from the lullaby ripples again along the wind.

"Oró mo leanbh beag Glac mo chomhairle cinnte Mo grá go sámh.

(Oh my little babe Take my sure advice My peaceful love)."

Her Mammy's advice: Don't look back. Keep fighting. Lena raises her other hand, and a spear of light forms in her hand.

Other-Lena slices down with a sword pulled from her back. Lena blocks and pirouettes to the side for a lunge.

Other-Lena blocks with her arm and slices faster than Lena can dodge. The blade cuts into her skin, but she tears herself away. Blood drips down her shield arm.

Her vision splinters, and for a moment, there's two Other-Lena's. Both rush her in a flunge.

Lena brings up her shield. The crash pushes her backward, and she stumbles, pain along her arm. The shield flickers, a crack along its horizontal axis.

Again and again, Other-Lena beats her back with fencing moves so swift, that Lena can barely block in time. Her energy flags, and blood and sweat coats her pajamas and her hair.

She can't lose, but she's so tired.

Again the wind swirls around them, and the song starts up once more.

Oró mo leanbh beag Agus paidir ó mo chroí Tá do tsaol romhat

(Oh my little babe And a prayer from my heart For the life in front of you)."

Love pours from the lyrics and revitalizes Lena. This time, when Other-Lena attacks, Lena drops in a Passata Sotto, where she evades under the blade, one hand briefly on the ground, while she straightens her sword and plunges it forward.

It cuts deep into Other-Lena's side. Her adversary hisses and staggers backward.

Lena straightens and shifts her stance. The buzz of her mother's love tingles through her still. She's not alone in this.

She lunges, and her slice cuts into Other-Lena's shoulder. Her opponent growls and rips free. She stumbles backward, raises her sword, and dives into a remise.

Lena parries each attack, but the force of them forces her backward. She has no armor, and her wounds slow her far too much. She searches for an opening, but Other-Lena's suit seems to rejuvenate her.

She needs to destroy it's power source, but where is it? She parries yet again, but this time performs a second intention, where she first feints and provokes an attack. She glides through another parry and strikes at the opening on the left. Her sword slices between armor pieces, and this time blood flows from the wound.

Other-Lena jerks away and scrambles backward. "Foolish." She lifts her cannon. "You can't win this." The colors on the cannon had been faint, but it pulses brighter again.

It'd been recharging this entire time. Shit.

The blast slams into Lena and throws her hard against stone. She slides to the ground, dazed. Laughter assaults her eardrums, and her vision splinters again.

She needs to get up. She can't lose.

She can't lose.

But the pain throbs through her, and she struggles against the crushing fatigue. It'd be so easy to let go.

Other-Lena laughs again and stalks closer, her emerald eyes burning with a fury, her sword upraised, and her cannon slowly recharging.

The wind buffets them, whips their hair to the left.

Another voice swirls along the wind, but this time it's Kara's voice singing. This time one of Kara's favorites.

"I will take the fight, I will stay up all night I'm not running away Mun jearán áddjás Chain me to the wall They cannot break us all I'm not running away."

That's right. Lena pushes off the wall with a surge of Adrenalin. She's not running away. Not anymore. They can't break her or those she loves. No matter how many times they try to chain her down, to use her, she fights back.

She'll always fight back, but this time, she does so with love burning in her heart.

"No more will you haunt me," Lena says. "You cannot break me!" She charges with a shout.

The cannon glows again, but Lena sees the bulge along the belt. The battery pack, and the wires flow up along Other-Lena's side and into the arm cannon. She aims, and in a swift feint, she catches Other-Lena off guard.

Long enough to slice through the wires.

The cannon spins down.

Other-Lena howls as if in pain. Lena pushes forward and her sword cuts deep into Other-Lena's side.

She drops with a gasp. Darkness wafts off her form. Glassy emerald eyes regard Lena. "Kill me then," she taunts, her voice hoarse.

She thinks of her mother's words. She hadn't said "kill" but "defeat." And isn't darkness apart of everyone? Even Kara harbors it, she's seen that darkness.

But that doesn't mean she needs to let it rule her.

She drops to her knees in front of her dark self and brushes her hand against her cheek. "I don't need you anymore. It's over. I choose love."

Yellow light pierces through the clouds, and the storm breaks apart. It floods the top of the spire, and light shears through her dark self. Other-Lena shouts and evaporates into dark dust that swirls on the wind above Lena's head.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the dim figure of a man, standing atop the wall of the tower. He winks at her and vanishes in a puff of blue smoke.

She frowns, but she can't stand. The pain and exhaustion swamps all of Lena's senses. She falls forward and tumbles through the stone.

Down, down, down, until she hits a soft surface.

Her fingers curl into the fibers of a carpet. She struggles to push herself upright, but she's too weak. There's a door, a familiar door in front of her.

It's Kara's apartment door.

She grunts and pulls herself forward. Blood blinds her in one eye, and her head burns with pain. She raises her fist and knocks.

The door swings open.

At first silence greets her, but then she hears a gasp. "Lena! Oh no, Lena..." Kara's arms circle around her, pulls her against her chest. "Oh gosh, okay, gonna get you to Alex. Please, stay with me." Her voice shakes with a tender emotion, one that pulls at Lena's heart.

Her eyelids flutter, and she raises her hand to touch Kara's cheek. Blood cakes her hand still. "I chose love, Kara," Lena whispers, her voice hoarse. "It's going to be okay now."

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #Sort of inspired by silent hill 2 #but also inspired by alice in wonderland #The Irish lullaby I quoted is by Máire Brennan #The song that Kara sings is Addjas by KEiiNO #Spookcorp #supercorptober #supercorptober2024 #kara x lena

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obliviouskara · 7 months ago

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top 5 supergirl episodes?

full disclosure i haven't seen the entirety of supergirl (ive literally only seen like 7 eps & its all season 1) so this list will probably change over time (bc im starting to painstakingly watch the show - imagine slowburn but watching a series) however ive watched like a ridiculous amount of supercorp edits so im going to base my choices on the parts where supercorp exist ha!

5. Season 1 - Red Faced

this would probably be the only none supercorp related yet still somehow my personal fave for a few reasons. i love this scene in particular bc it shows that cat grant cares for kara and what cat says here is very relatable. no matter how harsh cat can be at times, cat was a girl's girl here. she gave an advice which was helpful to both supergirl and kara. she had every right to rip kara viciously apart but instead she took a completely different route. i like the line she says here.

"You really need to figure out what's really bothering you." "You really need to find that anger behind the anger. And you really need to figure out what's really making you mad."

i think this was also the ep where kara acknowledged where some of the anger was coming from. even with zero dialogue and with mel's incredible acting skills she was able to convey so much emotions during that scene where she releases all her anger towards the red tornato. From losing her parents, losing her planet —her home, for losing everything and maybe even angry with her parents for the choices they made for her. it was such an incredible and very emotional scene.

im putting the rest in read more bc of how unnecessarily long this post has become

4. Season 2 - "The Adventures of Supergirl"

this should be easy. this was the first time kara met lena and changed the trajectory of every queer person watching this show and lena first delivered the first of many many questionably fruity (gay) lines fjlkajdla

"You couldn't have fooled me."

also bc of this scene thank you very much

3. Season 2 - "Luthors"

if there is one particular scene that convinced me to even give supergirl the time of day its obvs this one and lena "suspiciously straight" luthor delivered one of the most iconic lines on television in my opinion and now forever engraved in my mind. let's not forget lcorp CEO lena luthor took the time of day to fill catco employee kara danver's office with flowers like it's a regular tuesday but oh well

"now you'll have someone to stand up for you. always" "supergirl might have saved me but kara danvers, you are my hero."

screaming, crying, throwing up

2. Season 2 - "Exodus"

tada! i mean, look at it! how heroic! i also find it funny how grateful and confused lena was that kara danvers was having coffee with supergirl late at night but still

Season 2 - Ace Reporter

so this isnt at all groundbreaking bc honestly, 5 isn't enough and anything that has supercorp will be my favorite even though again i havent seen the rest of supergirl yet but we're ignoring canon so we're ignoring that fact too. i think this was the ep where kara was comforting lean about jack's death. i personally have a love and hate relationship towards this scene for many reasons but im a sucker for supercorp and there was a clip where kara hesitated and looked like she was about to plant a kiss on lena's head but then hugged her instead and i think its beautiful and im a sucker for kara leaning in towards lena

BONUS:

im too lazy to figure out where these clips are from which episode but this. i love every scene and its more like these below are my reasons for watching supergirl and has nothing to do with being my top 5 bwahaha

oh did i mention i also happen to have a weird obsession with superrojas i will not rest until i reach the ep where andrea rojas exist

#jessanswers #kiarrahatesboyss #okay im done this was such a fucking mess tbh #but yes #supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #andrea rojas #sam arias #oh none of the gifs are mine

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trashpandato · 1 year ago

Text

The sun in your eyes made some of the lies worth believing

When Lex slips out of her grip hundreds of feet above Shelley Island and plummets, Kara knows better than to just assume that this is it. This is Lex Luthor. She’s not sure what trick he might have up his sleeve, but she is sure that he has a plan for his escape, so she dives to follow. She can see the moment something impacts with the ground, but still, she’s convinced that he’s managed to disappear before that happened, so she continues her search.

“Alex! I lost him. We need to find him.”

The comms system crackles a little but Alex comes through loud and clear:

“He’s gotta be dead. There was a mini explosion when he hit the ground.”

“I don’t think he is, but if you’re right, I want to see the body.”

Alex tries to argue, but Kara won’t have it. They’ve been on the back foot for so long while fighting Lex, she knows this would have been too easy.

They search the impact site. There’s a small crater, there are pieces of Lex’s warsuit, but it’s impossible to know if Lex is dead until they’ve done a thorough analysis of the debris. Kara is about to call for Brainy’s help to speed up the process when she hears it:

Lena’s heartbeat.

It’s skyrocketing. Kara freezes for a second to listen more closely, to locate Lena, and then she’s off, briefly yelling into the comms device that she needs to find Lena.

When she lands, she’s at a cabin of sorts. It blends in with the environment and Kara thinks she might be in the wrong place. Nothing here looks suspicious. But then she hears voices and Lena’s short, shallow breaths. She wants to rush towards the sounds, to make sure Lena is safe, but she’s frozen in her spot when she hears Lex say it.

“Kara Danvers is Supergirl.”

He sounds weak, the words are gasps more than anything else but to Kara, they are the sounds of a dying world. She stops breathing, her limbs suddenly feel leaden. She wants to burst into the cabin, but she can’t move. She needs to see Lena. She needs to explain. Suddenly, she feels sick to her stomach. Kara knows she should have told Lena long ago, but the fact that it’s Lex in the end who shares her secret is too much. Images of Lena’s face flash through her mind as she imagines the shock and pain Lena must be feeling in that very moment.

But then Lena’s voice comes through, steady and calm.

“I know.”

It’s followed by the sound of one solitary gunshot, and then silence.

Kara takes a steadying breath and then rushes into the cabin. Inside, she finds Lena, gun in hand, staring down at Lex’s slumped body. A quick x-ray confirms no vital signs. He’s dead. Kara looks up and takes in the room around her. There are several monitors showing a video, a collection of images of Kara using her powers: the day Mercy Graves attacked, then in Kaznia. It’s dizzying to watch and Kara wonders how Lex got this footage in the first place, but then she remembers Lena’s words. Lena knows.

“Lena.”

Her back is still turned to Kara and she flinches a little at the sound of her voice but she doesn’t turn around, not right away. Lena’s hands are shaking, her heartbeat is almost violently loud in the small room.

Kara isn’t sure what to say. She wants to comfort Lena, hug her, make sure she’s okay, but she’s not sure what Lena needs right now. So she waits.

“You all really think I’m stupid,” Lena scoffs, her gaze still fixed on her brother, “that I didn’t see through the world’s worst disguise with ease.”

Kara winces. She knows others have pointed out that glasses and a ponytail aren’t enough to hide who she really is. Alex makes fun of her for it regularly. But hearing Lena say it, hearing the disdain in her voice as she spits out those words, makes Kara’s stomach clench.

“How long have you known?” Kara’s not even sure she wants to hear the answer.

The question finally makes Lena turn around, and it’s better than only seeing her back but Kara swallows hard when Lena locks eyes with her.

“Definitively? Since that day you saved me when I was pushed off the balcony. Your story about Supergril and Kara Danvers having coffee when I called was a little too convenient. But I had my suspicions since you flew to my office, on a bus.”

Kara grimaces. She’s never been particularly good at coming up with excuses around Lena.

“Lena. I’m so sorry.”

Kara wants to apologize, to explain, but Lena cuts her off.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me.”

And that, Kara isn’t sure what to do with that.

“You…you do?”

“I can’t say that I understand entirely why you felt the need to keep up the charades for as long as you have. But I get that you couldn’t trust me. Not really.”

“No! Lena, that’s not why,” Kara starts, her voice taking on a frantic note. She needs Lena to know that this was never about trust.

Lena lets out a harsh huff, half-turns her body towards where Lex is still slumped over in his chair and waves her hands around at the room.

“Kara, come on. I’m a Luthor. Both my mother and my brother have hurt you, multiple times, have tried to kill you and your family. I don’t blame you. I get it. Hell, I doubt myself several times a day, so of course you would, too.”

Kara shakes her head. She takes a step towards Lena and Lena stiffens but doesn’t retreat.

“That’s not why. I mean, maybe at the very beginning that was a consideration, but you’ve shown me over and over again that I can trust you. And I do!”

Lena frowns. Her head tilts slightly like it often does when she is trying to solve a problem, a puzzle, but where Kara usually finds an open, curious expression, Lena looks guarded.

“Then why?”

Kara wants to tell her that she did it to protect Lena. Images of Alex trapped in a tank rapidly filling with water flash through her mind and she shudders. There have been too many moments when people close to Kara have been in danger because of her secret.

But this is Lena, who fends off several assassination attempts a year, who is in danger so much already but somehow manages to keep going, to protect herself and others over and over again. Not wanting to add yet another target on her back might have been one motivation for Kara, but it has never been the main driver for keeping Lena in the dark.

Kara’s real reason has always been more selfish.

“Because I liked being Kara with you. Just Kara. Not a Superhero who is expected to save the day, every day, not an alien refugee who watched her world die in front of her eyes. Just Kara, who loves watching silly rom coms with you, who refuses to try your kale salads…who is your friend.”

A thought pops into Kara’s head then, a question that she’s almost too terrified to ask.

“Are we still friends?”

Lena shifts her weight a little, straightens her posture and raises an eyebrow. Kara has seen Lena do this many times, usually at work, when she’s trying to gain the upper hand in an uncomfortable conversation.

“I don’t know. Are we?”

The question hits Kara right in her chest, and she almost feels winded. She knows she deserves it, deserves whatever anger Lena might feel towards her for lying for so long, but it still hurts to hear that Lena is questioning the very foundation of their connection.

“Of course,” the words rush out of Kara’s mouth in a panic, “I mean, I hope we still are? I would understand if you, um, if you need some time to, to decide if you still want to be. Friends, I mean.”

Lena sighs then. She sounds tired.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs to decide that, Kara. Look around,” Lena pauses and looks over her shoulder at Lex. “I’ve made it pretty clear where my loyalties lie, don’t you think?”

Kara’s thoughts are racing. She tries to find the right words to say, to explain that she trusts Lena, she really does, but all she can see is that Lena is trying to blink back a few tears and she wants to sweep her into a hug but she feels frozen in place.

After a moment of silence between them, Lena clears her throat.

“Right. Well. You should probably call Alex and tell her about this,” she waves around the room again. “I’m sure you’ll both want to get rid of the video and any other evidence Lex might have kept here about your identity before you call the authorities about him.”

“Lena,” Kara tries to walk towards her but this time Lena does step back.

“I’m going to go. When you’re done here, if Alex thinks I should turn myself in or give an official statement or something, you know where to find me.”

“What?” Kara’s brows are furrowed. She’s not sure why Lena would turn herself in.

“I shot him. With intent to kill. Pretty sure that no matter what he’s done, that’s still illegal, so…”

Kara nods. She can barely breathe. Lex is dead, and Lena is the one who shot him, willing to face whatever consequences that might follow, and she did it for Kara. The full extent of it all makes Kara feel dizzy.

Lena turns towards the door and takes several steps before she stops.

“And Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“What happens now, moving forward, it’s up to you. It’s always been up to you. The only thing I ask is that you’ll be honest when you tell me what you’ve decided. Don’t,” Lena warns, “don’t insult my intelligence again.”

“Okay,” Kara nods again, “I promise.”

Dealing with the cabin ends up taking the better part of two days. Brainy scans the computers and finds a couple of encrypted backup servers that hold copies of the video Lex showed Lena, along with the source materials. Once found, he erases any trace of it and any trace that anyone accessed or modified content on the servers. They dismantle the tech itself and strip the cabin to its bare bones to ensure that no other evidence of Lex’s machinations remains.

As for Lex himself, Alex is shocked when she arrives and hears from Kara what happened.

“Lena killed him? Just like that?”

“I’m sure it wasn’t just like that, Alex. He showed his cards, that he knew my identity and was willing to expose it for personal gain.”

“So she did it for you?”

Kara pauses, replaying her conversation with Lena in her mind.

“She’s always done everything she could for me. She’s saved my life so many times. She’s saved yours, too. She’s always been there for us, for our friends, for the city.”

Alex huffs. “You’ve both been there for each other many times.”

“I don’t think so, Alex. I mean, sure, I’ve saved her life a couple of times, but don’t you see? She’s always done all these things for us, for me. And all this time, I was lying to her.”

“You had to, Kara.”

Kara shakes her head vigorously. “I didn’t. Maybe for the first month or two, sure. But after that? She’s proven so many times that we can trust her, that when push comes to shove, she’ll put our safety above her own interests. And I lied. I pretended. And all this time she knew. Rao, I don’t even know how she listened to my stupid excuses for when I had to run off to deal with the next emergency and just…rolled with it.”

Kara sinks down onto a large box that’s filled with all kinds of Lex’s tech from the cabin and buries her face in her hands.

“Alex, I messed up. You should have seen the way she looked at me. She wasn’t angry, not really. But she doubts our friendship, and I have given her every reason to think that I haven’t been fully committed to it.”

Kara feels Alex’s arms wrap around her in an awkward side hug.

“Hey. You did what you felt you had to do. You had your reasons, and I’m sure it hasn’t been fun for her to be kept at arm’s length, but you can change that now. You get to show her you’re all in.”

“How?” Kara asks, her tone almost desperate.

“You’ll think of something. You know Lena better than anyone.”

Kara sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

Kara ends up keeping her distance from Lena for the better part of two weeks. At first, it’s just a couple of days, and Kara can justify it with all the work they have to do to dismantle Lex’s various hiding places, to make sure he doesn’t have any more information on Kara that can fall into the wrong hands. But then, days turn into a week, one week turns into two and Kara no longer has any real excuse for not going to see Lena. It’s just that she doesn’t know what to say, not yet.

Nia finds her hanging around at the Tower one evening. She throws herself on the couch next to Kara so forcefully that Kara is sure she hears the frame crack slightly. But before she can chastise Nia for jeopardizing the structural integrity of the furniture in their place of work, the other woman claps a hand against Kara’s thigh.

“You really have to stop moping. It’s messing up the vibes in this place.”

“What? What vibes?”

“You know, the ones where we all work together as a team of Superfriends? Who have each other’s backs even when the world is about to end?”

Kara lets out a frustrated huff but doesn’t respond.

“Just talk to her,” Nia says. “Because honestly, this is killing me. I want Lena back. And so does Brainy. And I’m sure Alex does, too, in her own way.”

“I’m not keeping you from reaching out to her,” Kara snaps. She’s pretty sure that Nia is perfectly capable of sending Lena a text.

“Dude. You know the only reason Lena pulled away from all of us is because you lied to her, and by extension we all did, too. But she’s waiting for you to make a move here, to show her how you want to proceed. And until you do that, the rest of us are sort of, well, background noise.”

Kara disagrees. “No, you’re not. You have your own relationship with Lena, you all do. You can go and tell her that you’re sorry for lying, that you did it for me. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to accept that.”

“Sure. And then what do I do when Lena inevitably asks me about you and why you haven’t called her yet? Do I lie again by not telling her that you’re sitting here like a lovesick puppy because you can’t admit that you have feelings for her?”

Kara’s head snaps up and for a brief moment she has to focus on controlling her heat vision when she glares at Nia.

“What?”

“Oh come on, Kara. I’m not blind.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to. We’re friends. Or, well, at least I hope we still are.”

Nia sighs and shifts her body so she can look at Kara more directly.

“You and I are friends, right?”

“Um, of course. Why do you even ask?”

“Because you sure as hell don’t look at me the way you look at Lena.”

Kara squirms in her spot. She wants to end this conversation. In fact, she wants to go back to a time where they never have this conversation in the first place.

“Nia,” she sighs, hoping her tone lets her know to drop it.

But Nia is undeterred.

“Kara. As your friend, I’m going to say this once and only once: tell her how you feel. Sure, things right now are…tricky between the two of you. She knows you lied, and she’s wondering whether you were ever really friends at all. But that means the door is open to redefine what you two are. Show her you trust her, that you care about her, as more than a friend.”

Kara wants to deflect, to tell Nia she’s on the wrong track, but something about the way Nia pins her in place with a heavy look makes Kara deflate.

“But what if that’s not what she wants? I can’t lose her, Nia. It’s safer if I just go and apologize to her profusely and try to mend our friendship and that’s that.”

“She’s not stupid, Kara. In fact, you said she explicitly told you not to insult her intelligence again. If you pretend that all you want to be is friends but you keep making heart eyes at her every opportunity you get, she’ll know that you’re still lying to her. Just not about secretly being a superhero this time.”

Kara rubs her hand across her face and lets out a frustrated sigh. She knows Nia is right about Kara owing Lena the truth, all of it. She’s just not sure if she is strong enough to risk it.

“You’re right,” she says after a moment, sounding defeated. “I just…I’m terrified.”

At that, Nia slips one of her long arms around Kara and pulls her against herself.

“I know. But hey, you’re Supergirl. You do scary stuff all the time. You can do this, too. You owe it to her, and to yourself.”

Kara sags against her on the couch. Nia is right. She can do this. But right now, she simply lets herself be held for a moment.

It takes another day full of frantic pacing, stress-eating three dozen donuts and a box of chocolates that Alex informs her “were for Kelly, thank you very much” before Kara plucks up the courage to send off a text that has set in her app as a draft for way too long now.

KD: Can we talk?

Lena’s reply isn’t immediate, and Kara can’t tell if that’s deliberate or if Lena is simply too busy dealing with the aftermath of Lex’s death. Alex didn’t think Lena should take public responsibility for it, so they had created a cover story to explain that he had died in a shootout with federal agents who were trying to apprehend him. The story allowed Lena to officially take over Luthor Corp and Kara has seen through media reports just how much work this has been for Lena.

When Lena’s text comes in later that afternoon, it’s both a relief and a source of worry.

LL: You know where to find me

Kara reads and re-reads the text more times than she can count. She knows it’s hard to pick up on tone over text, especially one so short, but Lena sounds guarded, defensive, which is not a great place to start for the conversation Kara knows they need to have. On the other hand, Lena is still talking to her, inviting her to find her, so at least that means she’s open to hearing Kara out.

She spends the next three hours obsessing over Lena’s text and over what she wants to say to her. Kara knows she has to apologize for lying, for keeping Lena at arm’s length for so long. But she also wants to know why Lena never told her that she knew, that she has been playing along for years. With her stomach in knots and her thoughts pinging around in circles, she decides to talk to Alex first. She needs some outside perspective before she can have this conversation with Lena.

But when she makes her way over to her sister’s place, Alex isn’t home.

“Kara, hi,” Kelly says with a warm smile as she steps aside to let Kara in. “Come on in.”

“Um, hi. Is, um, I need to talk to Alex.”

Kara follows Kelly as she leads them both into the kitchen.

“She’s not here. She took Esme out for ice cream. A little bonding time after they had a bit of a stand-off this morning over what counts as appropriate breakfast food.”

“Oh. Okay. I’m, that’s good. I’m glad they’re doing that.”

Kara stumbles over her words and looks down at her feet. She really needs to talk to her sister, but she also doesn’t want to intrude on their family moments. She knows how much being a mom means to Alex, and how hard it is with their jobs to spend quality time with loved ones. Kara scuffs her toe against the tile floor a little as she contemplates her options.

Kelly’s voice pulls Kara out of her thoughts.

“How about I make us some tea and you tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can help?”

Kara hesitates.

“Oh. Um. I don’t want to keep you from anything important.”

Kelly just smiles and fills the kettle with water.

“You’re important, Kara. You know that, right?”

Kelly’s soft voice is soothing, and for the first time since receiving Lena’s text, Kara feels her shoulders relax a little.

“Is this about Lena?” Kelly probes, and before Kara even thinks about whether or not she wants to have this conversation with her, she nods.

“Yeah. I, um, I want to talk to her. Need to talk to her. But I’m terrified and I don’t know where to start.”

Kelly hums and plops two tea bags into their mugs as she waits for the water to boil.

“What is it you’re most worried about?”

Kara thinks it’s deliberate that Kelly isn’t looking at her in that moment, that she appears focussed on the task of making them tea. She wonders if this is a tactic she uses with Alex as well.

“Honestly, I’m not even sure. I mean, I spent years worrying about what would happen if she ever found out who I am. I was so sure there’d be a, um, a big confrontation. A fight. That I would lose her. It’s part of why I kept it from her for so long.”

Kelly hums but doesn’t say anything, so Kara continues.

“But now I know that she knows. That she’s known all along, and she’s still, I mean, she’s here, she never left. So my fear about telling her was unfounded all this time, only I didn’t know. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It sounds like you feel caught off guard. And that’s understandable. You only just found out that something that was foundational in your relationship with Lena wasn’t the same for her at all. That would be pretty disorienting.”

“Yes!” Kara bursts out, but then she softens her next words. “I mean, it feels weird. I’m the one who lied to her, so it’s not like I can complain about her not telling me that she knew.”

Now Kelly does turn to look at Kara.

“You could. Look, I think the most important thing for both of you moving forward is that you find a way to be on the same page. And honesty is going to be a key piece of that. Not just telling her who you are, officially, but I think you should tell her that it’s confusing for you that she’s known all along and never said anything. I’m sure she’s had her reasons, just like you had yours. Hear her out, don’t hide what you feel just because you feel guilty about keeping her in the dark.”

Kelly hands Kara her mug and the immediate heat she feels through her hands is comforting.

“But what if she pulls away now? What if telling her how I feel, um, about everything, is the thing that makes her leave?”

“You can’t control what other people do. All you can do is show her what you want things to look like going forward. But Kara,” Kelly pauses and waits for Kara to look up from her mug, “I think Lena has shown you for years what she wants. That she’s willing to work with whatever you’re willing to give her. It can’t have been easy, knowing but watching you keep her at a distance, but her commitment to you has never waivered.”

“I know,” Kara sighs. “I know.”

Kara’s gaze drifts down to her mug again. Kelly is right. Lena has been there for Kara all along, so maybe it doesn’t matter that they weren’t able to be completely honest with each other in the past. Maybe all that matters is that they’ve been here for each other despite it all.

Kara’s head snaps up when she feels a warm hand on her elbow.

“Just talk to her. Be honest with her and with yourself and tell her what you want from her moving forward.”

Kara nods. “I will. Thank you, Kelly.”

Kara leaves but still doesn’t go to Lena immediately. Kelly’s words echo in her ears. Tell her what you want from her. And then there’s what Nia said, and Kara can’t deny it. She does want things to change between her and Lena. She wants more, has for a long time.

It’s late when Kara finally finds herself in front of a familiar door. She decided against the balcony, not wanting Lena to feel ambushed. Being here now, her hands poised to knock, makes Kara feel jittery and unsure. She takes a few deep breaths and knocks.

It doesn’t take long for Lena to open the door, and she doesn’t look surprised to see Kara either, even though it’s been hours since Kara texted her and weeks since they last saw each other. Lena greets her with a quick nod and turns around to walk back into her penthouse, leaving Kara to trail after her. And after a second of stunned silence, Kara does. When she makes it fully inside, she watches Lena set a kettle on the stove and turn it on.

“Tea,” Lena says, her voice about as neutral as Kara has ever heard it. But then she finally turns around, flicks her gaze up to meet Kara’s and asks: “Would you like some?”

“Uh. Sure. That. Yes, that would be nice.”

Lena nods and continues prepping the tea. It’s clear that she’s looking for something to do, to fill the space between them, and Kara can relate.

“How have you been?” Kara says, and she knows this is a weird thing to ask as soon as the words leave her mouth, but she needs to break this tension between them somehow.

“Oh, you know. Kind of busy dealing with the fact that I murdered my own brother and then took over his company.”

Kara grimaces. “Right. I can imagine that’s been…a lot. How are you, how are you holding up?”

Lena stops fiddling with the tea mugs then and leans back against her kitchen counter, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Is that what you’re here to talk about? My stress level?”

“Um, not really. I mean, I do want to know how you are doing, but, um,” Kara starts but cuts herself off.

She’s in the middle of trying to shove her hands into her pockets when she realizes that the pants she is wearing tonight don’t have any pockets, so her arms fall down awkwardly at her side and she lets out a frustrated huff.

Not a great start.

But then there’s a twitch of a smile tugging at Lena’s lips and in that moment, Kara’s frustration shifts into pure adoration for the woman in front of her.

“You know, I had this whole speech prepared, in my head,” she begins again. “It was a good one, too. But now that I’m here, all I want is to, um, can I hug you?”

And Lena’s eyebrows flick up at that but she nods and Kara doesn’t hesitate. She’s around the kitchen island in a flash and then carefully but firmly pulls Lena against her, loops her arms around her back and holds tight.

Kara has missed this. She’s always been touchy with Lena, has always tried to express her admiration and love with little touches and big hugs. These last few weeks without her have felt cold and confusing, but being here now, having Lena in her arms again, reaffirms Kara’s conviction to make things right.

She keeps her voice low for her next words.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lena. I never should have lied to you for so long.”

She feels Lena stiffen a little but she continues:

“I can’t even really explain why I kept the lie going for so long. Like I said, at first it was because I didn’t really know you, but then, I don’t know, it just, it got away from me. There were so many moments when I wanted to tell you, but I always chickened out. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Slowly, she eases the hold she has on Lena and leans back but keeps her hands on Lena’s arms, unwilling to break contact.

“I know it wasn’t fair to you. And you have every right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry,” Lena interrupts, but her tone isn’t cutting or sharp like Kara would have expected. Instead, her voice is quiet. “I, maybe I was, at first. It wasn’t fun to be kept at a distance, to watch you come up with really bad excuses to cover up your rapid exits from our lunches.”

Kara grimaces at that. She’s always felt bad about those, always worried about Lena thinking that Kara didn’t want to spend time with her.

“But I understand why you kept this part of yourself hidden, Kara. I told you. I know who I am, who my family is. I get it. I’m not angry.”

“But I made you doubt our friendship,” Kara adds, and it’s not a question.

It’s then that Lena extricates herself a little and steps back towards the kettle. She pulls it off the stove and pours hot water into two mugs sitting next to it on the counter. With her back to Kara, she responds.

“I don’t know what to think anymore. It’s been, it’s been so confusing for so long. One minute, you’re there, and so kind and gentle and more supportive than anyone has ever been in my life. And maybe it’s because I spent so long without that, without genuine…without anyone who would defend me and check on me and bring me lunch knowing how bad I am at remembering to eat. For a long time I thought we had…something. But then you would rush out the door for some emergency and it always felt like a bucket of cold water. Knowing that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. So I don’t know. I don’t know if this,” Lena turns around then and waves a hand between them, “if this is something or if I’ve simply been so starved for affection that I imagined it and it was never there in the first place.”

The confession breaks something in Kara. She can see now how Lena has spent years teetering back and forth, torn between the mixed signals she was getting from Kara. Thinking about how confusing that must have been, especially for someone like Lena, who’s had to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of love in her life, makes Kara’s eyes sting.

“Lena,” she whispers and takes a careful step towards her again, “you didn’t imagine anything. There was always something there.” She loops her hands around Lena’s wrists, trying to ground them both. “There still is.”

Lena’s eyes are locked with Kara’s and for a moment she doesn’t say anything at all. It’s like she’s trying to read Kara’s thoughts, to make sure that the words are true this time. When it’s clear that Lena isn’t going to say anything for now, Kara presses on.

“Why didn’t you tell me? That you knew?”

Lena’s expression is still a little guarded. Kara can feel her pulse race where her fingers are still circled around her wrists, can hear her heartbeat hammer in her chest. She knows they’re on the precipice, and they both have a choice to make.

“You had your reasons for not telling me. And you seemed very invested in keeping it that way, so I thought it would be best to just…play along.”

“Why? Why not call me out, get things out into the open?”

When Lena looks up at her then, her eyes are focussed, clear. Like she’s just made a decision for herself.

“Is it so hard to believe that I wanted to keep you happy?”

And that, that’s the answer that pops the lingering worry in Kara’s chest like a balloon. It’s like the puzzle pieces finally fit together and Kara can’t help the crooked grin that overtakes her face.

“Listen, I know I’ve, um, I know that by not telling you, by keeping you in the dark for so long, I made decisions for the both of us. About, um, about us. And I want that to change. If you want friendship, I’m here. I’m all in, and I promise, no more secrets. But if you want, um, if you want something else, that’s fine, too. Anything. Lena. I’ll give you anything.”

For a long moment, Lena is silent. She stares at Kara, her eyes roaming along every inch of Kara’s face, and Kara briefly thinks that this is it. This is the moment when Lena will pull away and tell her to get out, that too much has happened for her to ever fully trust Kara.

But what Lena says instead is small, almost pleading.

“I need you to say it, Kara. I need to hear what you mean by something else. No more secrets. I can’t…I need clarity.”

Kara lets her hands fall on Lena’s hips and pulls her closer.

“I mean something more. More than friendship. You, you mean everything to me, Lena. You have, for a long time. I’m sorry that it has taken me so long to work up the courage to tell you. About who I am, and about how much I love you.”

Lena is so close to her now that Kara can feel the sharp intake of breath as soon as those last three words are out. She squeezes Lena’s hips gently and repeats them again. No more secrets. No more vague innuendos that leave a door open for backing out. Lena has been there for Kara all this time, unwavering in her support, despite Kara’s lies. The least Kara can do now is be honest. Finally.

“I love you, and I think we could be…more.If that’s, if that’s what you want.”

A long sigh works its way out of Lena’s chest before she says: “I want it all with you”

Kara knows there’s a dopey smile on her face now. “Yeah?”

In lieu of an answer, Lena crashes her lips against Kara’s in a kiss that’s both fierce and desperate. Kara can feel years of longing and uncertainty in the way Lena presses herself as close as possible, in the little gasps that escape her mouth as they deepen the kiss.

It’s not the soft, hesitant kiss that Kara had imagined their first kiss to be. But then again, nothing about Lena has ever been what Kara imagined. She knows they need to talk, still. To sort out what they both want from each other. And she knows she still has to make amends, that it will take a while to re-establish their connection, this time without the lies, without secret identities that hold them back. She indulges in the kiss for a while longer before she gently pulls back, giving them both a moment to gather themselves.

“How about that tea now?”

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorp fic #supergirl

309 notes · View notes

supercorpkid · 10 months ago

Text

Powergirl Should Die - 2

Supergirl, Powergirl, B!D. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, J'onn J'onzz.

Word Count: 2840.

Part 1

Kara is the sunshine. It irradiates through her skin and you don't think there's a single soul that would be able to deny that. Your sister is always bringing good light wherever she might go. But you-

You were born to rain clouds. Always almost but never enough. Power, yes. But never Super. Even back in Krypton, you were always blessed in her shadow.

And that was fine, for most of your life. You didn’t care to hide away behind her at school. Didn’t care that when she moved to National City, you had to follow her too. But then she got you inside a skin tight suit, gave you a superhero name, and that was a little too much for you to bear.

Because now you are sleep deprived, too tired to function properly. Haven't rested a bit in days. Patrolling the city, watching everyone's step, listening to every heartbeat and shaky breath. Waiting for the worst.

It's not even that you can't rest because you don't have the time, that is only partially true. You have to go to the Museum and work. You haven't let anyone patrol the city ever since you saw that flash of red in Lena's surveillance camera. Even so, you would still have a couple of hours to nap, if only you could. If only you wouldn't wake up drenched in sweat from your nightmares.

All of them are about what's happening right now. You watch from afar seeing her blonde hair and red cape flying behind her while she writes the words that are now rooted in the depths of your mind.

Powergirl should die. Why won't she die already?

"That's enough!" J'onn stops the arguing. His deep commanding voice is enough to make everyone shut up, including both of your sisters that had been yelling at you until a minute ago. "You are in a government space and some of you are public figures. I expect at least a little bit of decorum, and if that's not possible then the three of you should go talk somewhere private. Preferably at home."

"Fine by me." Kara says, hardening her jaw. "We're all going home." She speaks almost out of greeted teeth, only one eye blinks, so laser focus on you, it sends shivers down your spine.

She picks Alex up, ready to fly away, but looks back at you before she does so, almost daring. You don't want to go home with them. All the previous yelling already made clear what their point was. You are getting obsessed with this 'Powergirl should die' thing. You're getting fixated, absorbed, borderline manomaniacal about it. Throwing blame around, wary of the people who are there to help you, snapping at your own flesh and blood.

Yeah, yeah. No shit.

"Y/N, would you stay behind for a second?" J'onn says, and Kara furrows her brows at him. "She'll catch you in a moment, Kara. You and Alex can go."

"Alright." Kara leaves, but it is clear it wasn't ok by the way she said that.

He starts walking and you follow him silently throughout the corridors of the DEO, and only stops in front of a lead covered room. "For privacy." He explains, pointing inside and you agree with your head walking in. "Would you like to tell me what the problem is?"

"Besides someone wanting me dead?" You snap. You can't really control how you sound right now, even though you wish you could. You're tired, scared, and suspicious of the very one person you should rely on the most. That makes everyone around you untrustworthy by default.

J'onn agrees with his head. And you bite the inside of your mouth to keep you from spilling the truth.

"Seems enough of a reason to me."

"You think Kara wrote it." He explains it further, saying what you've been thinking. At least someone had the courage to say it out loud. You sigh, looking down.

It's wrong. Thinking your sister is the one writing all these terrible things about you. But what else would you think? It’s the only lead you have. The only one you need.

"It's a pretty big accusation."

You can't look him in the eyes. Even though you haven't directly said it, he could read all the messed up thoughts you were having about it. "You didn't say I was wrong."

"I didn't say you were right." J'onn counters, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You're going to end up doing something you regret if you don't rest. I'm not going to argue you on this, Y/N. This is not a suggestion, it's an order from a superior. I am not giving you a shift tonight, and I hope that means you won't be on duty."

"What if the writing comes up again?"

"Then we clean it."

"What if something more than the writing comes up this time?" You can't help the watery eyes when you say that.

He gives you a long pause, "Then we fight it."

Alright, well. You can't argue with that logic. And you also can’t argue with the fact that you are so tired, you might end up doing something stupid.

So you agree that you won’t patrol tonight, trusting him on this, and leave the DEO. You are well aware that your sisters are waiting for you in Kara’s apartment, ready to tell you what to do. So before you face them, you send Lena a text.

You: Hey! You, me, Love Actually and Thai food tonight?

Lena: Yes, please. All of it sounds perfect ❤️

You smile at her text. Your heart doing a small loop inside you. Alright, now onto the hard part.

You fly in through the window and the second Kara notices your presence, she picks up the conversation from where it was left.

“How long has it been since you've slept?” She asks, crossing her arms and Alex mimics her action right after. They look like two angry parents, and it makes you even more annoyed. They are not your parents. Your parents exploded 20 years before you even stepped foot on this planet, so.

“I don’t know.” You mutter, knowing they wouldn't like the honest answer and having no energy to fight them.

“If you would just let me take over for you, mini me. I could patrol the city tonight. I promise I'll call you the second I see something suspicious and –”

“Yeah, ok.”

“What?” Kara and Alex stare at each other.

“I have direct orders from my superior to stay put. And I also have a date – I mean, a movie date – a movie thing with Lena tonight, so yeah. If you want to patrol the city, you do it.”

“Oh.” They stare at each other again, confused about your approach to this. You’ve been very demanding the past few days about how this is only about you and that no one else should get involved, and just one conversation later, you're quick to give up that control? Sounds weird. But they're not going to fight you on this, since it's exactly what they want. "Great! I'll do the patrolling and you do the date."

"And sleep." Alex adds. "Don't forget you need to sleep."

"Sure thing, mom." You force a smile then fly out of Kara's living room, and go back to work.

It’s a lot later that night when you give Lena the empty container of your already eaten Thai food, and snuggle up on her couch, throwing the blanket over your legs and trying to get as comfortable as possible. “Mmm, just FYI I might fall asleep during the movie.” You warn her. “I haven’t had a good night in a while.”

Lena hums her agreement from the kitchen, but soon she is back to her place next to you. “Something’s been worrying you?”

“I guess. But I don’t wanna bore you with that, it’s not something fun to talk about.” You smile when she gets under the blanket too, body so close her warmth irradiates through her skin.

“You couldn't bore me if you tried, honey.”

“Au contraire, darling. I think everyone at the Museum would say I’m the most boring person alive.” You give her a side smile.

Lena shoots her head up, comically fast. She blinks at you, head clearly going one thousand miles an hour. She is thinking so hard, it's almost loud. You furrow your brows in confusion, while her mouth drops with a 'oh' sound.

"You're ok?" You pat her leg.

There's no verbal answer. Lena's shaky hands make their way to the collar of your shirt and you sit up straighter trying to understand what's happening right now, and trying to predict what's going to happen next.

“Lena?” You question her movements when she undoes the first button of your shirt. You swallow. It's not like you never once imagined this happening, but not like this. Not without love confessions and a whole lot of prior conversation.

“Lena, what are you doing?”

Lena doesn’t answer, doesn’t blink. Hands still shaking, but decisively making their way to the second button.

“Lena, please.” She undoes that one as well. And that's when it hits you. You are always wearing your supersuit attire under your clothes, so it's faster when you have to run out from work and such. Panic shoots through your body as you realize that if she unbuttons one more, she’ll be able to see your supersuit. You hold her hands to stop her. “Lena,” you try to smile even if your mouth is completely dry and your breath is stuck in your lungs. “Darling, shouldn’t you kiss me first, before trying to get me naked?”

Lena finally looks back at your eyes, a smile dangling on her lips to match yours. And then she gives you a smirk. “You’re not naked, though. Are you?”

“Under my clothes? Yeah, I’m naked.” You lie with a fake chuckle.

She untangles her hand from yours, places it behind your neck and brings your face closer. You hold your breath. Widen your eyes. This is happening. It's happening! You and Lena, it's finally happening!

“What’s going on with you tonight?” You stare down at her mouth. “I’m not complaining, I’m just confused.”

And that’s enough of a distraction for her to move her other hand and unbutton one more. Lena looks down at the white of your supersuit and the little bit of gold from the House of El crest. And you? You panic.

"I, um, I can explain." While your heart beats strongly into your ribcage and there's a loud buzz inside your ears. How do you explain yourself?

Lena seems to be inside her own little world while both hands now make all the way down undoing all of your buttons, opening your shirt to have the House of El crest staring at her in all its secrecy.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, one tear rolling down your cheek. Because there's no explanation, really. Nothing you can say for yourself to stop Lena from hating you now.

She finally looks up to you, eyes tearing up as well, mouth agape to her recent discovery. You can see it all playing out in her eyes. She has the most expressive ones. Betrayal and anger, sadness and confusion. And then, a few seconds after two tears drop from her eyes, she raises her eyebrows at you. Eyes widening when something hits her.

"Powergirl should die." Lena whispers, swallowing deep. "Oh my God, Y/N. Someone is trying to kill you."

She launches herself onto you, holding you tight. Her hand entangles on your hair, holding your neck strongly.

"Oh, darling." She whispers, her body even closer now. You feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, while you seek comfort on her arms, face buried on her neck. "No wonder you've been so careless."

"What?"

"Au contraire, darling? Please, Y/N, I've never heard anyone say that except for you. And Powergirl, apparently."

"Lena." You whine, embarrassed. Can't believe you made it that easy. You guess J'onn was right, you were about to do something stupid from the lack of sleep. "Someone wants me dead." You try to justify, earning a smile from her.

"You really are tired, huh?" She brings you closer again, kisses your temple. "You thought I was trying to get you naked, honey."

"Lenaaaa." You whine harder, face burning red from embarrassment. God, you're such a loser. "Can you please ignore everything I said tonight? I haven't slept an inch in four days."

Lena smiles fondly at you, while she strokes your cheek delicately. She plants a kiss there, then a light one on your lips. It's so soft, it holds no sexual implication. Just pure comfort. "Come on, Powergirl. You need a power nap."

"Oh God." You complain again, but soon Lena hugs you tight, and with your head on her chest, and Love Actually playing in the back, you're fast asleep. You don't even care if the writing shows up all over town tonight. There's no other place you'd rather be.

You wake up from your place on Lena's chest. Sometime last night she laid back on the couch and you curled yourself around her, not ready to let go. It was the first night you haven't had any nightmares.

You hear a few knocks on the balcony door, and you and Lena raise your heads at the same time to the intruder on the other side. Kara. She is smiling and waving, then she widens her eyes and turns around quickly. X-ray vision. You look down to Lena's body under yours, and your leg slotted between hers.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry." You get up in a flash, shirt still hung open with a clear view of your supersuit. "Shit, fuck."

Lena gets up as well, trying to look less disheveled to your sister's eyes. And after you button up your shirt, you finally open the balcony door and clean your throat, so Kara can look back at you.

"Hi!" She tries with the biggest, most awkward smile ever. "Just, um, wanted to say that there's nothing new for me to, um, report?"

You look back at Lena who knows exactly what Kara is talking about, but is looking down pretending she doesn't.

"I didn't mean to interrupt –"

"You didn't." You both are quick to say.

"Oh-kay?" Kara raises her eyebrows, a smile reaching her eyes, and you know exactly what she is insinuating. And sure, you thought the same thing last night, but you're both wrong.

"Can I get a ride?" You ask and Supergirl eagerly agrees. You turn back at Lena. "Thanks for –" You bite your tongue. You don't want to say anything in front of your sister. "Lunch later?"

"Lunch." Lena agrees with her head. And you smile before letting Kara pick you up and fly out of her balcony with you.

When you're out of sight, you untangle yourself and start flying next to her. "So no writing last night, huh?"

"Nope. Not even a kitten to rescue to keep me entertained." Kara grins devilishly at you. "You, on the other hand, was well entertained last night."

"Yeah, well. I slept for the first time in four days and had no nightmares. I'd say I was very entertained."

"Nightmares?" Kara stops flying, and you have to fly back a little, so you can talk face-to-face. "You haven't had nightmares in years."

"That's not true. I've been having them for… I guess, months now?"

"Months?" Kara's eyebrows furrow so hard, her crinkle shows. "When did they start?"

"They're just nightmares, Kara." You argue, annoyed. But she looks at you with an expression you almost couldn’t read. It's a midst of worrisome and distrust.

You furrow your own eyebrows, looking back at her. And then it hits you. The only reason you recognize this look, is because it's how you've been looking at her for the past four days.

"When did they start?" She repeats, strongly this time.

"I don't know." You lie. You know exactly when they started. Right after she gave you a superhero name and your first mission. Ever since, you haven't been able to sleep right.

"Let's make sure you don't have them anymore." Your sister finally breathes out. "Maybe you should try sleeping more times with Lena. It looks like she helps."

Wouldn't she like having you back at no patrolling so she can go back to the new way she found to be passive-aggressive and make you question your every single step?

"I'll pick up some extra shifts and I'm sure J'onn won't mind picking up some as well. That way you can rest your head a little."

You narrow your eyes at her, questioning her intentions. "Why don't you worry about your own enemies, and let me deal with mine?"

She doesn't answer and you're certainly happy you rendered Kara Zor-El speechless for the first time all your life.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x reader #alex danvers #baby danvers #lena x reader #reader insert #supergirl imagine #alex x reader #powergirl

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kiraridertime03 · 6 months ago

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My Adventures With... Supermen?

Alright, so, I just got done watching the third episode of My Adventures with Superman's second season, Fullmetal Scientist. Great episode, fun episode, as per usual. However, certain inclusions have me scratching my head, leading me to only one big question...

Which would be a spoiler, so beware below, but...

Are they gonna kill Superman?

Now, I am not confident in this conclusion at all, it is purely because of two primary character inclusions in the past few episodes that seem to be pointing in this direction. It could mean nothing, but I am crazy.

To see what I mean, we need to jump back to the 90's. One of DC's major events within that period was titled Reign of the Supermen. It was a story that was spread across the 4 main Superman comics of the time, Superman, Action Comics, Superman: The Man of Steel, and Adventures of Superman (ha). This brief storyline, in short, followed 4 Superman Related characters as they vie for the role of his successor. This is because, right before this, Superman famously died.

Yeah, this event is the sequel to the Death of Superman, and builds up to his revival at its end. It wasn't very long, less than a year, but it is there. However, what is important for now is who our four Supermen are.

The first, who we'll skim over because he is least important right now, is The Eradicator, some freak alien who steals Clark's body and takes his identity. The details currently don't matter, though keep a lookout for their stupid glasses!

The second is Conner Kent's Superboy. This is the clone one made up of Clark and Lex's DNA. You may recognize him from the series Young Justice, however, at this point, he was in his Leather Jacket Era, not his black T-Shirt era.

However the final two are more interesting to see. The first we'll talk about is Cyborg Superman. He was once astronaut Hank Henshaw, but he got all fucked up in space, blaming Superman for it for plot reasons. When he eventually died because of space, he was able to upload his mind into a almost clone body of Superman with Robot bits. He then claims to just be Superman revived. Eradicator does this too, but it's funnier for him.

Finally, there is who is one of the more popular characters we see in this event, probably only rivaled by Conner, that being John Henry Irons, aka Steel. He is the only one without Super in the name, having designed to design a suit that helps him be like Superman, though he also gives himself a rad as hell hammer because John Henry. He was later played by Shaq.

So, now we jump back to present day, with MAWS's second season. The first episode draws the gang to S.T.A.R. Labs in Coast City (A place important to the Reign of the Supermen arc for reasons we don't have time to get into and probably won't get into because it probably won't happen exactly like the comic if it does happen in the show) and we meet Hank Henshaw. Neat, me and many others think. It makes sense, he is a space science guy, so might as well draw on a character from the lore. Plus, it gives the creators the opportunity to do a Cyborg Superman later down the line, as this show does love its robots. However, I didn't think much more of it. That was until Episode 3, an episode primarily dedicated to introducing John Irons and making him Steel, if briefly. Now, on its own, this is still innocuous, he is a fairly popular Superman character, and they do a great job with him, I love his larger bodied design.

However, things become suspicious when these two are introduced in such rapid succession. The writers want these Supermen in play for... something. It, of course, hasn't introduced all of them. There has really been no trace of Eradicator, and it seems weird to have Lex cloning Superman this early in the show. So, while we have half of the Supermen here, we aren't quite there yet. Although... We do have another Super nearing us very soon.

Much of this season's arc seems to be prepping for the introduction of Supergirl, Kara Zor-El. You know her, she got her own TV show, she's probably more popular than most of the characters we've seen in this post. However, we don't know too much about her role in the season past that. From what we've seen from annoyingly spoilery Toonami bumbers, she's probably being controlled by the remnants of the Kryptonian empire, whether it be ruled by Zod or Braniac, and whether it being of her own volition or not, and her current arc seems nebulous. However, Superman has built up quite the positive reputation even just in the single season we've seen him in. Imagine the kind of pressure, whether she has taken an antagonistic role in the past of the series or not, that it may place on her if Superman "dies" (or get sent across the galaxy or captured by the government and made to be presumed dead by the public or something). Especially if she has to take down an evil Cyborg claiming to be her cousin.

Do I think this will happen this season. It's probably too early to say, but I find it to be... doubtful. I have my doubts to them ever "killing" Superman, fakeout or not. If they did, it would probably be a season finale cliffhanger before having a 2 episode premier the next season with a Reign/Return of Superman arc the next season. However, they definitely want to do something Reign related at some point. Whether that means "killing off" Supes is yet to be seen. Though, given how close the two arcs are to each other and how much the government (Amanda Waller) wants to kill Superman, I wouldn't be surprised.

Long story short... Uh... Good episode, fun episode. I like this show a lot and I hope it keeps being good.

#spoilers #my adventures with superman #supergirl #theory #reign of the supermen #I feel like I'm going insane #Again I'm probably wrong #But it can't be a coincidence right?

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terapsina · 8 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @isagrimorie (thanks, this looks fun 🤩).

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1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

120

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

324,790

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I'll just copy-and-paste from ao3, cuz I'm not writing all that down.

The Vampire Diaries (TV) (25), Legacies (TV 2018) (12), Person of Interest (TV) (9), Once Upon a Time (TV) (9), Leverage (US TV 2008) (7), Shadowhunters (TV) (7), Doctor Who (2005) (5), Arrow (TV 2012) (4), Merlin (TV) (4), Captain Marvel (2019) (3), 苍兰诀 | Love Between Fairy and Devil (TV) (3), Batwoman (TV 2019) (3), The 100 (TV) (3), Willow (TV 2022) (3), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV) (2), The Magicians (TV) (2), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (2), Supergirl (TV 2015) (2), The Originals (TV) (2), Star Wars - All Media Types (2), The Old Guard (Movie 2020) (2), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types (2), The Good Place (TV) (2), Avatar: Legend of Korra (2), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV) (2), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) (2), Charmed (TV 2018) (1), Angel: the Series (1), Wednesday (TV 2022) (1), Star Trek: Voyager (1), Teen Wolf (TV) (1), Star Wars: Rebels (1), Sweet/Vicious (TV) (1), Star Trek (1), Star Wars: Ahsoka (TV) (1), Lost Girl (TV) (1), Legend of the Seeker (TV) (1), Hustlers (2019) (1), Stargate SG-1 (1), Revolution (TV) (1), Sanctuary (Canada TV 2008) (1).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5 Times The Doctor Talked About River Song With Graham (+1 Time The Fam Finally Met Her) - the 13/River fic where Graham finds the Doctor's missing wedding ring and she gradually opens up about her wife.

“Her name was River Song.” She says once he’s already taken a few steps. He stops, turning around, giving her the opportunity to continue or not as she needs. “She was an archaeologist. And a professor. And a criminal. And she was brilliant and absolutely mad.”

“She must have been. Married you didn’t she?” Graham jokes before he can help himself.

But Doc just grins like she agrees and laughs to herself.

Something uncoils in Graham’s chest at seeing Doc’s face regaining its natural brightness, however tinged with grief. The grief isn’t new either, he’s seen shadows of it in her all along but this is the first moment she doesn’t seem to be trying to hide it. Or maybe the first time she’s not trying to hide from it.

The Suspicious Case of Tribbles - the 13/River fic where River tries to "borrow" the TARDIS for lil'bit.

"Don't mind me. Carry on!" The woman says, dropping a bag of something heavy that sounds like a bag of rocks to the floor and hurrying towards the TARDIS controls. "I'm only here to establish an alibi. A short hop over to the other side of the hemisphere and some 38 planetary hours in the past should do it. I'll send you lot right back to him none the wiser. It'll be our little secret."

She's Come Undone and Set Free - Elejah, Bonbekah, Klaroline and Elena/Caroline/Bonnie/Rebekah friendship story that deals with Elena and Caroline getting to be angry and making Damon pay for what he did to them, as well as supporting each other and beginning to heal. (WIP, but there's only 2 chapters to go).

“I want you to know, that’s not why I will always hate you, Damon.” She strengthened her hold on his face at the look of caution that was surfacing at her words, likely because he’d just now been remembering that not that long ago she’d broken his neck. “I won’t even hate you because of the sire bond. Though I wasn’t lying, it felt like being a slave to your every desire, whether or not you actually voiced them. And the funny thing? I’m not sure I’ll ever know how much me there was when I was making any of the choices that lead to Jeremy dying.”

“What’s your point?” Damon asked and grabbed her hands in a vice-like grip that made it impossible for Elena to try again what she'd done nearly two days ago when she'd regained her humanity. But she'd already known there wasn’t a point trying now that he'd be expecting it, so she didn’t fight to escape him.

“She’s my best friend, Damon. I will never forgive you for what you did to her,” she said and did absolutely nothing as Damon’s eyes widened and he tried to turn around. He wasn’t fast enough. He’d been too consumed by Elena to pay attention to any other heartbeats around them, and despite her age, Caroline had always been an unusually fast vampire.

Morai's Call to Hope - my Star Wars, time travel, Snips and Skyguy fic where Anakin gets pulled into the World Between Worlds three days before his Fall, watches as Darth Vader is about to kill Ahsoka... aaaaaaand jumps forward to stop him. (WIP and I'm very ashamed about it, because I loved writing this story and really hope to get back to it someday)

From behind Anakin there comes again a whisper from a different time: ‘I would never let anyone hurt you, Ahsoka… never…’

But in front of Anakin comes something else.

‘Then you will die,' the Sith says in direct contradiction to everything Anakin has ever promised both aloud and inside his own heart to the closest thing he’s ever had to a little sister or a daughter. And every single cell of his body rebels against a time where he would ever utter those words to Ahsoka. So even as the red lightsaber ignites in the Sith’s hands, Anakin rushes forward and through the fragile line of a portal separating his reality from theirs.

As the Sith’s lightsaber finishes the arch of its blow instead of encountering Ahsoka’s white dual sabers it’s stopped by the intervening block from a blue lightsaber in the hands of the Anakin Skywalker sixteen years out of his time.

You know who you remind me of? - the 13/River fic where the Doctor is in the middle of hiding under a table with Yaz for plot reasons when she hears the sound of her wife's laughter and is immediately distracted from the mission that brought them there.

The laugh is thick with mischief and a galaxy of secrets.

She knows that laugh.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to. I adore comments and really truly appreciate receiving them, so I do try to respond to them. But sometimes I get into a kind of slump where replying just feels exhausting. And by the time I'm over that, it might have been like two weeks, and then it feels embarrassing to respond.

And sometimes I just don't know WHAT to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Last Words. I do have quite a few angsty fics but I usually end them either happily or with an open ending that's got light at the end of the tunnel. But this once I came up with an idea for soulmate-identifying-last-words and then wrote a Korrasami fic for it.

Asami had known that Korra was her soulmate. And like everyone else she was in no hurry to see it proven. And there she might be counted lucky, because she did not learn it for many years to come. They survived the war with Kuvira, and then returned from their vacation in the spirit world, and survived many more battles beyond that. The Avatar lived a long life.

But Asami Sato lived a longer one.

So that has the saddest ending.

Well, that, or maybe what's the point of greater good, which is my Queliot (with a side of Wickoff) story where Julia talks to Quentin during the time Eliot was possessed by the Monster.

She finds him stubbornly looking through the mountain of books, searching for any and every scrap of information on Enyalius they can get. He looks like he hasn’t slept since the moment weeks ago when Eliot managed to surface for those brief few moments to tell them he was alive. Hope’s a bitch that way.

“We need to stop him Q.” Julia says, from behind him.

Quentin’s shoulders freeze in place and he leans forward, hands clenching the spine of the book he’d just been about to pick up.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like I said, I tend to mostly write happy endings. But if I have to pick what I considered as the happiest one, then here's a story that's full of angst in the middle, which made the ending feel even happier because of the contrast.

6 Times Bellamy Tried to Forget That He Was in Love With Clarke (+1 Time He Couldn’t Anymore) - exactly what it sounds like. My big look into Bellamy's head through most of the seasons. Canon almost to the end, where I sharply switch tracks and give Bellarke the happy ending they goddamn deserved.

The first thing he saw as the delinquents pulled aside the sheets of scrap metal to let their two missing people in was Clarke running in front, scraped up but seemingly uninjured. He wished that the relief that overtook him was entirely selfish, that it had to do with the fact that he had his partner back and he wouldn’t have to carry the burden of their people’s lives all by himself. But that was crap.

It was vastly overpowered by the simple joy of seeing that Clarke was alright.

“Hey, we heard an explosion. What happened?” she fired out rapidly as soon as she was in front of him. Face serious and eyes focused entirely on Bellamy, - and it was something that had gotten to be so familiar to him that it almost felt like having her there was akin to getting back a missing limb.

He almost, almost fell to the instinct to pull her into his arms because he was just so damned glad that she was alive that the only thing that saved him was the fact Jasper got there first.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not a lot. But there's been a few occasions where I have gotten some, yes. Mostly the 'this was a waste of my time' variety.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not... really? On a few rare occasions I've written a bit of spice but I don't think that people that read smut would give me more than 2.5⭐ out of 5⭐.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes. When the idea for one strikes. And I don't know if I'd say it's the craziest one, but definitely a fun one is my Stargate SG-1/Leverage crossover where the Stargate Program needs to recruit some thieves.

The Homeworld Security Job. (incidentally this is also the fic that got me the most amount of hate comments).

“I know, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that no one at SGC can go, you need thieves for this mission. And this is a big planet, you guys must have some good ones between those 7.5 billion people. You get me a few of them and I can teach them how to play a wealthy minor Goa’uld long enough to get in and out. But I can’t teach someone to be a good enough liar to not get caught. Not with the time we have here.”

“What do you want us to do, Vala? Grab a bunch of criminals off the street and hope they don’t decide that stealing a Stargate and selling that to the highest bidder instead would be a more lucrative business plan?” Cameron asks.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once. My Lunarry fic the ones that seek and find (six years in the relationship of harry and luna) has a translation into Chinese Mandarin 探寻和发现（哈利与卢娜相处的六年).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. It's always sounded kinda complicated.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I do NOT have a one single favorite ship. But there are a few that I will probably never let go of and those are: Elejah, Swan Queen, Hizzie, Bellarke, Spuffy, Doctor/River, Clizzy, Bering and Wells, Kahlan/Cara, Parker/Hardison, Graylora and DFQC/XLH.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of them 😭.

But especially the Star Wars time travel one I mentioned earlier. I love that one so much. And I want to go back to it and finish it. But the stars aren't looking all that bright.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'd like to think that I'm good at getting into characters' heads. Their inner monologues tend to be the easiest part to write (it's the dialogues and surrounding scenes that trip me up).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar. English isn't my first language, so the fiddly parts of the grammar is what I've picked up through osmosis while reading, which isn't exactly... a flawless way to do it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it a few times (mostly in my Clizzy fics, because Izzy's character peppers a decent bit of Spanish in her dialogue on the show) and have nearly always kind of regretted it (I've needed to do fixes nearly every time, had to learn that google translate cannot be trusted the hard way).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

If I remember correctly, then I think that was a very terrible attempt at a BtVS/Stargate SG-1 crossover that has been deleted since then.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is a very predictable answer but that's She's Come Undone and Set Free, I'm just really proud of this story for a lot of reasons. And though there are a few other of my fics I love more than others, this one is just... my favorite of all of them.

---

Tagging: @vorpalmuchness, @jennifersminds, @muse-oleum, @amandamonroe and whoever else wants to.

#ask meme #writing #terapsina rambles #terapsina's writing rambles #elejah #thirteen x river #river x thirteen #bellarke #bonbekah #tvd #stargateverse #leverage #stargate sg1 #doctor who #star wars #clone wars #queliot #the magicians

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cardcaptorsakura96 · 9 months ago

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Sweet Love-Chapter 6

Fandom: Supergirl

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers/Kelly Olsen

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alexa Luthor-Danvers (OC), Liza Luthor-Danvers (OC), Jess, Lillian Luthor, Alex Danvers, Kelly Olsen, Krypto, Mable Longhorn (OC)

Summary: Lena is stressed about family and work decisions that need to be made. Kara believes that a family vacation to the Danvers' family ranch will get her mind off of things. However, the more they find out about the history of the place, the more they realize that the place holds quite a few hidden secrets.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

After running around for a half hour, the twins had tired themselves from chasing Krypto around the sheep pen. Krypto had finally managed to befriend a sheep and was sleeping peacefully next to it. Kelly kind of figured this would happen so she made sure to pack sandwiches for the girls and herself to eat.

As they were eating, Kelly asked, “Are you guys excited about starting the 7th and 8th grade this fall?”

Liza beamed and said, “Yes! I was so bored last year. I am excited that we will be learning stuff that is new this time around.”

Alexa sighed and said, “I am excited, but I will miss filming my cooking show during class through.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow and said, “You know that you can film your cooking show anywhere. It doesn’t have to be during class.”

Alexa smirked and said, “I know, but it was more fun that way.”

Kelly chuckled and said, “I am sure your new classes will keep you busy enough with new information to hold your interest.”

Liza smirked and said, “If not, I am sure she will just make kissy faces to Billy in class all day.”

Alexa raised an eyebrow and asked, “Isn’t that you and Zatanna’s thing? I know we are twins, but it doesn’t mean I want to do the same things as you all the time.”

Liza pouted and said, “Hey! We don’t do it all the time.”

Alexa rolled her eyes and muttered, “You do it enough.”

Liza narrowed her eyes at Alexa, but then scoffed and turned away.

Kelly sighed and said, “Girls, the conversation is devolving here. Let’s just agree that this transition for you guys will be an exciting journey. Okay?”

Liza muttered, “Fine.”

Alexa sighed and said, “Fine.”

They all ate in silence for a couple of minutes before Kelly decided to move the conversation to a neutral topic.

“What do you two think of the ranch so far?”

Liza looked up thoughtfully and said, “It is pretty cool that this place has been in the family for several generations.”

Alexa nodded and said, “Yeah, the photos inside showing the family throughout the years are pretty cool. Not that many people can trace their family back that far.”

Kelly smiled and said, “I do appreciate that this place has a lot of history. It is not often you get to have full access to an establishment that has been around for hundreds of years.”

Alexa turned to Liza, smirked, and said, “Since this place has a lot of history, it means only one thing.”

Liza smirked while rubbing her hands together and said, “It holds a lot of secrets.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow and asked, “Oh really?”

Alexa got up, smiled, and said, “Which means we should go investigate.”

Kelly chuckled and asked, “You really think there is some type of mystery to solve?”

Alexa grinned and said, “This place is a tourist attraction in the middle of nowhere where cell service is not working at least not for Liza and my cell phones. There is no way it doesn’t have a secret or two.”

Liza nodded and said, “Besides, Jess has been pinging our magical link all day to make sure I am still here.”

Kelly frowned and asked, “Why is that unusual?”

“Jess tends to do that when she has questions about the validity of a place I am visiting,” said Liza.

“Is that something that we should be concerned about?” asked Kelly warily.

She knew that Jess and Liza had a psychic link to each other, but didn’t know how deep it really went.

Liza looked up thoughtfully and said, “She is mostly suspicious of this place. Hasn’t really given me a reason why other than she is looking into it and would give more information if she found anything. If we were in danger, alarm bells would be going off in my head now.”

“Sounds kind of ominous,” said Alexa.

Kelly chuckled a bit but was starting to get a little bit concerned. If Jess was sensing something, they should keep it in mind. From what she has observed about Jess, she is very perceptive and very protective of Liza. However, several things were giving her pause in this situation. This place is somewhere that Kara, Lena, and Alex were very familiar with. It doesn’t seem to have been touched since their grandmother died so if there were some odd changes, chances are those three would be the first to notice something. Plus, Lillian indicated that she had her assistant check the place out. To get things like the horses and sheep back, and electricity and water turned back on in the place, it would require multiple people to come through here. Kelly looked up thoughtfully.

You would think with the multiple people coming through here before us that they would notice if something was amiss.

Kelly was lost in thought until she felt Alexa tap on her shoulder.

Kelly shook her head and said, “I am sorry Alexa. Did you need something?”

Alexa bounced up and down and said, “Yeah. Liza and I were wondering if we could check out the barn over there.”

Liza smiled and said, “We want to look for clues.”

Kelly looked hesitantly at the barn they were referring to. It was your typical red barn. It looked to be in pretty good shape considering the age of this place.

“I don’t know,” said Kelly warily.

Alexa pouted and said, “Can we just take a quick peek?”

Liza pouted and said, “Yeah, just a quick peek, and we can come right back.”

Kelly sighed and chuckled while shaking her head.

“You guys have definitely got your pouty face from Kara,” murmured Kelly.

Alexa smirked and asked, “Is that a yes?”

Kelly smiled and said, “Yes, we can take a quick look.”

Read the rest on AO3

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rainaftersnowplease · 1 year ago

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We're live, my friends. Let's get these two idiots together.

Night has fallen, and she’s backlit by the misty light coming from the gala below. The champagne glow of it catches in her golden hair, glints off the slightly reflective fibers of her suit. Her back is to you, and though you know she can hear even the slight uptick of your breathing at the sight of her, you allow yourself the indulgence of a moment to regard Supergirl leaning on her elbows against your balcony railing. How her head tilts almost pensively downward between her broad shoulders, her cape fluttering restlessly in the light breeze despite her stillness. “You know this isn’t really an entrance,” you tease. Kara doesn’t startle at your voice, and that betrayal of her super senses in that tiny way warms you, another data point in the growing catalogue of Kara’s trust in you. You come to join her on the balcony, leaning an elbow on the railing to face her. “People get suspicious when mild-mannered reporters fly forty stories up into the air,” she teases back, favoring you with a genuine but toothless smile as she turns her gaze to you. You don’t have trouble reading the guilt folded into the corners of her closed mouth. “I take it this isn’t a social call, then,” you say. The warmth dissipates from your chest a bit, as though Kara’s muted smile is a cloud keeping the sun at bay. Kara looks at you for a moment, and her eyes soften the longer she stares. You wait for her rejoinder, the rabbit of your mind hopping sadly from worse to worst case scenarios. You flex your jaw, an old coping trigger to stop an unreasonable mental spiral, and force your hands to still from where they’ve knotted together in your anxiety. “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Kara says. “But I’d like to be, starting now.”

Continue on Ao3, or consider supporting me on Patreon!

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #nytf #fanfiction

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luthordamnvers · 2 years ago

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Hey 👋

Favourite supergirl episodes from any season??

Hey! I haven't done a proper rewatch in years, so these are the "good" episodes from the show.

S1 - Pilot, livewire, red faced (if only for the rage scream scene), human for a day, the girl who has everything, fallout, World finest (still the best supergirl/flash crossover) better angels.

S2 - the adventures of supergirl, the last children of krypton, crossfire, medusa, luthors, exodus, ace reporter, alex, nevertheless she persisted.

S3- Girl of Steel, triggers, damage, midvale(!!!), crisis on earth x(the best all shows crossover imo), reign, fort rozz, for good, of two minds, trinity, (from here on they all kinda blur together tbh)

S4 - American Alien (Nia Nal, my beloved), fallout, (I didn't really need this episode, but it was still a good episode) Man of steel, rather the fallen angel, bunker hill, suspicious minds, blood memory, o brother where art thou?(kelly olsen my beloved), House of L(!!), all about eve, american dreamer, will the real miss tessmacher please stand up?, red dawn, the quest for peace.

S5 - (sigh), event horizon, blurred lines, confidence women, tremors, the wrath of rama khan (if only for fortress scene), the bottle episode(fooled once again), it's a super life (!!!), reality bytes, alex in wonderland, deux lex machina, immortal kombat.

S6 - (sigh) rebirth, prom night, prom again, welcome back Kara, blind spots (i will not accept slander about this episode), the gauntlet, magical thinking, i believe in a thing called love, all the domestic supercorp scenes s6b gave me, and the dansen wedding, and that moment in certain funeral when certain ship was burried 6 feet down... and that's about s6.

If I had to select from those, from the top of my head as favorites: the girl who has everything, fallout, the adventures of supergirl, medusa, luthors, damage, midvale, house of L, it's a super life, immortal kombat, rebirth, welcome back kara, blind spots, the gauntlet, i believe in a thing called love.

#asks #s6 is for vibes and vibes only no substance whatsoever #except for azie's episode that one was all substance and people didn't get it #s1 and s4 superiority #s2 is for flirty supercorp #and s3 gave me sam and that's about it #s5 is just broken promises and too much lex is nauseating #but at least gave me girlboss andrea #fangirl226

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starspatter · 1 year ago

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Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 22

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 3,904 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Feeling like a hero but I can't fly No, you'll never crash if you don't try Took it to the edge, now I know why Never gonna live if you're too scared to die

-Goo Goo Dolls, “So Alive”

————————–

After.

“I don’t like it.”

Tim leaned over to Dick and whispered in a light lilt:

“‘It’ doesn’t like being called an ‘it’.”

Standing before them in the center of the loft was a burly youth with jet-black hair and wary blue eyes; strong, square-set jaw tilted defiantly towards the two – plus another muscular man in a red cape towering over the entire trio. Dick and Tim shifted sight anxiously back and forth between the confronting opposites – or rather parallels, as the stranger bore a striking semblance to his elder, almost a miniature model (especially as both had their limbs crossed in identical positions). Superman stared suspiciously down at his mirror image, studying him hard as steel.

“You say you found him wandering the streets?”

He prompted, addressing Tim rather than the one before him.

“You make it sound like he’s some stray dog.” The subject narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. “There was a crash at an intersection; some clueless guy walked right into the direct middle of traffic, and I watched with my own eyes as a car ran straight into him. He was fine afterwards, but the vehicle was totaled. Not exactly something you see in Gotham everyday. So I checked to make sure the driver was okay, before getting this crazy kid the hell out of there before the police and media showed up and started swarming.”

“You made a good call. I’ll- contact the League, and we’ll take… ‘it’ from here.”

“Hold it,” the ticked-off teen spoke up at last. “Don’t I get a say in any of this? Who gave you the right to just go deciding things on your own? You’re not the boss of me.”

The Man of Steel made an expression like a wild animal had just suddenly started spouting fluent English phrases.

“You claim to be my clone, that we share the same DNA. That Cadmus created you – in order to take my place in the event of my demise… or to take me down, if necessary. That makes you my responsibility.”

The boy huffed, unimpressed.

“I don’t care about any of that. I just got sick of them trying to control me all the time. So I busted out. But, if you’re going to stand in my way,” he boldly balled his knuckles, “Then I will fight you.”

Superman glared coolly at the raised fist. So much anger – and danger – all in one unstable adolescent. …Frankly he recognized that look, as his gaze traveled subtly to Tim out of the corner of his periphery, before flicking back.

“That makes you a loose cannon, if not an outright threat. You really expect me to believe that you’re not here on some covert mission? That Cadmus hasn’t already filled your brain with an assassination objective, fully trained you on how to kill? This isn’t the first time they’ve employed this tactic.”

“Yeah yeah, I know all about Supergirl’s clone. My supposed ‘big sister’.” Resembling a rude child, he repeatedly mimed finger-quotes in the air. (It was a wonder where he picked that gesture up from.) “The failure. They said she was ‘defective’. That they learned from their mistakes, and made me to be ‘better’. ‘Perfect’.”

Superman mused if that was the reason he remained so… “juvenile” compared to Kara’s copy, who had been artificially aged to maturity, as well as peak physical strength. Perhaps, they thought that by keeping this one more mentally regressed, he’d be easier to rein in – “mold” to whatever warped purpose they had in mind.

“She was a soldier. A slave. Raised to obey and follow orders. There’s no proof you’re not carrying out the same directive right now.”

Despite his doubt, deep down Clark wanted to believe in the boy’s words. That their plan had indeed backfired, and all the hormonal rage and rebellion had culminated in preventing a pure, innocent soul from being corrupted, having luckily managed to escape before the indoctrination process could be completed.

Tim interjected at that juncture-

“Look, supposing he is telling the truth – what do you plan to do with him?”

Superman debated, honestly still somewhat unsure of his own intentions. His… “feelings” towards this “thing” in front of him. His foster cousin hadn’t considered her doppelganger a “real person” for even a second – which may have been her only way of coping with the concept that another version of her could ever exist to serve – be “evil”. He had been inclined to concur back then, but now that he was faced with his own reflection, it was ironically a different story. Additionally, he had witnessed firsthand a potential future where a dark side of his soul reigned supreme, what a superpowered person of his caliber was capable of if sent on the wrong path…

“We can take him to the Watchtower. He’ll be safe there.”

Tim snorted.

“Why? So you can keep him under constant lock and observation all the time? How is that any better than him being with Cadmus?” He scoffed on the other’s behalf. “Are you really going to deny him freedom as soon as he’s found it?”

There was a sensitive edge to Tim’s tone, and Dick picked up on it too as he cast an awkward sidelong glance towards his brother. He was clearly taking this personally, projecting his own past experience of being forced into secluded privacy (sadly sometimes even padded rooms and restraints) for nearly a year following his… “ordeal”. Being regarded – and thus subconsciously treated – almost as an “object” himself.

“What do you propose then?”

Tim shrugged.

“Why not just let him stay here?”

Each and every other person in the room stunned at the suggestion, including the one in question. Dick reached out and put a firm paw on his sibling’s shoulder.

“Tim, can I have a word with you for a moment?”

Superman insistently joined the timeout as the guardian duo drew Tim into a hushed huddle, hovering over him simultaneously in lecturing stances.

“Are you out of your friggin’ mind?”

Dick tested in utter disbelief, to which Tim merely rolled his eyes and retorted:

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“We don’t know anything about this dude, and you want to just let him move in with us? We have no idea what he’s capable of. He could murder us in our sleep – hell, at any time – with his bare hands.”

“And no one thought that about me after Arkham.”

“Tim…”

“You guys gave me a second chance.”

“You’re human.” Dick glimpsed apologetically towards the third party. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

Dick shook his head, returning attention to Tim. “What makes you think he can even be trusted?”

Tim simply shrugged again.

“Dunno.” He gleamed mischievously. “Would you believe me if I told you a little ‘voice’ in my head says it’s okay?”

His senior sighed in exasperation at the mildly mocking smirk on his lips.

“Tim, now is not the time to be making jokes.”

Tim kept playing along though, putting his palms together in a pretend-pleading pose, puppy pupils shining as he begged.

“Oh please, can we keep him?”

Dick veered desperately to his partner, beseeching for assistance. “C’mon, Clark, back me up here.”

The other older male was oddly mute though, deliberating pensively before declaring at last:

“…I’ll allow it.”

Dick’s jaw dropped to the floor, floored by the unanticipated approval.

“You’re not serious?”

“Tim’s right, keeping him cooped up in space isn’t a sufficient solution. It might be better to have him experience Earth instead. Be around regular people, learn about our society through actual interaction.” His vision squarely met Tim’s. “…Let him lead a ‘normal’ life.”

Dick wasn’t convinced though.

“What if he is our enemy? He could turn out to be some kind of monster.”

Just then, the topic of their discussion elevated his volume:

“You guys do realize I can still hear you, right?”

The three revolved around as he pointed irately at his ears.

“I’ve got superhearing too, remember?”

He folded his arms in further frustration.

“If you don’t want me here, fine. Then I’ll leave. But I’m not going back to being constantly told what to do and where I can and can’t go.”

Superman stepped forward, solemn and severe.

“You can stay, on one condition. You are not to activate your abilities, under any circumstances. Not until you’ve proven yourself completely trustworthy, that you can integrate successfully with this planet and abide by its rules.”

The lad looked even more aggravated by the notion, bristling in irritation and insolence.

“What’s the point of having powers if I can’t even use them for anything?”

“It’s to teach you self-discipline. Listen to me: The people of this world are incredibly fragile, and if you’re not careful, you could easily end up hurting someone, even if you don’t mean to. And trust me, I will be keeping an ear out for anything suspect. If I hear one whiff of you causing harm to anyone, I will bring the entire Justice League down on you so fast you won’t know what hit you. We will hunt you down, no matter where you go.”

His replica gnashed his teeth. The G-Gnomes and scientists had instructed him on how to combat the League, made him go through each member’s file and drills multiple times until he memorized their weaknesses by heart. Still, the prospect of taking them all on at once wasn’t an idea he really relished the thought of, if he could avoid it. Grudgingly, he acquiesced.

“Fine. I accept your terms.”

“Goody,” Tim piped up as he sauntered forth to pat his new “playmate” on the back. “Welcome to the ‘Rejects Club’, pal. Hope you enjoy your stay. We’ve got a cripple, a crazy clown killer,” he indicated offhandedly towards a dumbfounded Dick and himself, “previously a crackhead junkie, and now a clone. We should call ourselves the ‘Three Caba-zeros’.”

The boy blinked blankly at him.

“…Man, maybe we need to work on your sense of humor.” Tim deflated in disappointment. “First things first though,” he scrutinized the bland white jumpsuit the other was wearing, tasteless and tattered so that a flap fell over his nigh-bare exposed chest (coincidentally concealing a scarlet symbol that matched his double). “We should get you some clothes. Mine probably won’t fit you, so you’ll have to borrow my bro’s for now. Is that okay?”

Dick lifted his hands in defeat as Tim twisted towards him – too late – to request for permission.

“I guess. Whatever, go knock yourselves out.” Under his breath, he muttered: “This is insane.”

“Thank you.”

Tim responded dully, and Dick couldn’t tell which statement it was in answer to.

As Tim led their guest away, the other visitor exhaled, appearing extremely exhausted. Dick couldn’t help but think that were he in civilian disguise right now, Clark Kent the Daily Planet reporter would be removing his glasses to rub his tired lids. He approached gingerly, trying to imagine what must be going through the man’s mind at the moment.

“You all right?”

“…I just came face to face with my genetic duplicate who was secretly born without my knowledge or consent. It’s bad enough the government exploited my kid cousin, now I’m the source of introducing a possible new peril to this planet.”

Dick clapped Clark on his broad back.

“We don’t know that he’s a risk yet.”

A wistful mist slipped onto the man’s visage as he reminisced.

“His eyes… They remind me of Kara’s. Proud. Arrogant. Stubborn.” He beamed faintly in mixed fondness at the memory. Dick looked on with sympathy.

“…You miss her, don’t you.”

Clark respired.

“I worry about her. I respect her decision to stay in the future, and I’m glad she found happiness there, a place where she belongs and can spread her own wings. …Still, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that she ended up with a descendant of Brainiac, of all beings in the universe. I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

Dick quietly contemplated the other’s sour countenance.

“You’re sure you’re not transferring some of that resentfulness onto the kid?”

Clark flinched, but made no effort to refute. Brainiac, Darkseid, Luthor – all had their periods of portraying themselves as harmless and peaceable – before stabbing him in the back yet again. As much as he strove to give the benefit of the doubt to strangers and established comrades, when it came to personal grudges against archvillains he wasn’t about to allow himself to fall victim to another ruse – even if he wasn’t quite certain where on the spectrum the current concern lay.

“That’s why I’m entrusting this task to you. I’m counting on you to watch over him. If anything happens, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

“…You’re asking an awful lot of someone who can’t even see completely right anymore, let alone throw a proper punch or kick,” Dick mumbled in partial jest.

It was Clark’s turn to bolster the other’s backside.

“I have faith in you. You see the good in others, and that’s what matters. If anyone can keep him on the right track, you can.”

Dick’s own one worn eye swiveled aside.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

He murmured in a morose manner, as Clark thumped supportively a second time.

“If there’s one thing we can’t lose, it’s hope. If we do, then we’ve really, truly lost. It means that they beat us. That they won.”

Dick looked up at the smiling superhero – a man he himself looked up to once, idolized as much as another brave icon…

“I’ll ask Bruce to send over some Kryptonite anyway, just in case,” Clark continued, treading carefully with his words; figuring that if the kid did indeed have Kryptonian blood in him, logically he should be susceptible to its effects too. “I’m sure he’s got tons of the stuff stashed somewhere.”

Dick cleared his throat.

“Have you… heard from him at all recently?”

“No,” Clark confessed. “I was hoping you had.”

“We don’t… talk anymore. Not really.”

“I see.”

There was an uncomfortable beat, before Dick carried on with another curious inquiry.

“What about… Diana? How’s she doing? I… know she and Bruce were… close.”

Though they had never officially met, he had wondered, idly, how she felt on the whole affair with Barbara – Batgirl. As far as he knew, Bruce – Batman – had never actively pursued a relationship with Wonder Woman, despite obvious mutual infatuation and daytime persona’s playboy tendencies.

“Diana’s doing fine. She’s strong.” Clark softened in appreciation and understanding. “…So are the two of you.”

He reinforced the other’s shoulder once more, before releasing and beginning to head for the exit.

“Both of you, look after each other. Families are tough to keep together, I know. But, that’s why you need to treasure the time you have. Before you know it, you can lose someone entirely from your life, and then that’s it. Don’t ever take those precious moments you shared for granted. And…” He hesitated on the handle, acknowledging his own hypocrisy. “Look out for the kid for me too, will you?”

Dick nodded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close ‘eye’ on him.”

Clark’s facial features twitched marginally at the poor attempt at a pun.

“Thanks. Oh, and you don’t need to worry about tracking devices either by the way. I checked, the kid’s clean.”

“How’d you-” Dick cut himself off, slapping his forehead with a grin. “Oh, right. Duh. X-ray vision.”

Superman winked at him, before opening the door and speeding off into the sky, towards the hill where Wayne Manor overlooked the city. Dick watched him go, vanishing into a speck, before slowly shutting the egress behind him. Hobbling upstairs after the previous pair, he made a beeline for the fridge and grabbed a beer, flopping down on the sofa as he endeavored hard not to think about the fact there was a half-naked superhuman clone currently raiding through his wardrobe. Scanning absently around at the several “Flying Graysons” posters lining the walls surrounding him, he pondered just when had his own place – personal space – suddenly become so crowded again. Somehow, it seemed his “private bachelor pad” had been converted to a “wayward home for lost boys” without him noticing.

…But then, he thought as he popped the top and took a swig, Bruce had done pretty much the exact same thing, hadn’t he.

…

“So… You two were ‘superheroes’ once too.”

“Yup.”

“And… You don’t have any special powers.”

“Nope.”

“How’d you guys do it?”

Tim shrugged.

“A lot of training, a lot of skill, a lot of sleepless nights – and some luck. …Although that ran out eventually, as you can see.”

The other teenager nervously massaged the back of his neck.

“I guess humans really are fragile.”

“Inside and out.”

Tim impassively agreed.

“So, uh… Do you really hear like, ‘voices’ and stuff?”

The query ventured cautiously.

“Voices, hallucinations, homicidal urges – the works.”

His company’s irises widened in alarm.

“…I was kidding. About that last part anyway.” (…For the most part.)

“Oh.”

Tim shook his head. It seemed “sarcasm” was something else he’d have to teach this kid.

“Still want to crash with us?”

The “alien” looked uneasily down at his toes.

“I dunno… It doesn’t seem as if your brother really cares for me all that much…”

“Don’t sweat it. He’ll come around.”

“Why’d you stick up for me anyway? We hardly even know each other.”

Tim shrugged his shoulders again.

“I know what it’s like to be labeled a ‘freak’. To be tossed aside and treated like you don’t – shouldn’t – exist.”

The other boy’s knuckles clenched.

“I bet ‘that guy’ just wanted me out of the way so he doesn’t have to deal with me. So he can hog all the glory to himself.”

“Maybe. …Although in his own way, he’s probably trying to protect you too.”

Tim seemed to be talking – rationalizing – more to himself than his newly acquired acquaintance at this point, leaving the latter confused. Snapping up from his stupor, he quickly pushed the conversation aside.

“Anyway, more importantly, go pick something out to change into. Anything will do for now, I can take you shopping for stuff in your size later.”

His companion complied, digging deep through the closet’s contents, which mostly consisted of cool leather jackets and jeans. (…No more ugly sweater vests, Tim noted nonchalantly.) At length he pulled out a black T-shirt from the far back, rotating it around to reveal a plastisol ruby logo echoing his own emblem. …Seems Dick hadn’t thrown out everything from his adulating adolescence after all.

“This. …I’ll take this.”

“…A bit on the nose with the irony, isn’t it?”

There was no reply as the plunderer stripped then and there, showing zero signs of modesty as he stretched the prize snugly over his (admittedly impressive) abs. Tim felt his face growing hot for some reason as he averted and coughed.

“Well, what do you know, it fits. …Now don’t forget to put on some pants.”

He hastily tossed a pair of trousers towards the half-dressed hunk, smacking him on the snout as forecasted. The target detached the denim wrapping and dutifully donned it as well.

“You’re gonna need a name too. Unless you actually want us to keep calling you ‘it’.” A pause, as he wondered whether whoever brought the puppet to life actually bothered to give their creation a designation. “…What did Cadmus call you?”

A shrug.

“They mostly just referred to me as ‘Experiment 13’ or ‘Project Kr’ or simply ‘the weapon’.” (Again with the finger-quotes.) “Although, after I broke out of the pod, I found a ‘top-secret’ document that stated my actual ‘codename’ was ‘Kon-El’. …Before I tore it and the place apart anyway.”

Been there, done that, Tim thought to himself as he rolled the title on the tip of his tongue.

“Kon-El, Kon… Sounds foreign, it would definitely stand out way too much.” (As if he didn’t already.) “…How about ‘Conner’ instead?”

The boy tilted his head as he mulled over the moniker for a minute, before nodding in approval.

“As for a last name…” An almost wicked spark flashed. “So long as we’re being daring and tempting fate, what do you think about ‘Kent’? That’s Superman’s citizen surname.”

Conner debated for an interval again, then signaled another affirmation.

“‘Conner Kent’ it is then.”

Tim thus dubbed his new bud. Sobriquet settled, he held out his hand and introduced:

“My name’s ‘Tim’ by the way. …Although the voice in my head likes to call me ‘JJ’.”

He added with a casual hint of a grin, taking a mordant stab at his “witty sarcasm” again. (Besides, a semi-sadistic streak in him still enjoyed watching others squirm whenever he willingly brought up his apparent lack of “sanity”.) Conner seemed sincere though as he looked Tim dead in the eye – undeterred – and mimicked the motion, greeting with a mighty grip. Seems he was at least aware of what a “handshake” entailed at least.

“…You know, when I was inside the tube – before they put me in a pod – I used to hear a ‘voice’ too.”

“You mean those ‘G-Gnome’ things you mentioned?”

Conner shook his head.

“No, it was weird. Different. Definitely human.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t one of the scientists?”

“It was more like a… girl’s voice.” He frowned, struggling to sort out a jumbled fog of hazy memories from the first few weeks of being “formed”. “She kept… crying out and asking for someone to be her ‘friend’. For someone to come ‘save’ her. …She sounded really scared.”

Tim stared at him, unsure what to say.

“Maybe we’re both actually crazy.”

“Heh. Maybe.”

It was Conner’s turn to look brooding though as he ruminated. Tentatively, Tim tried to distract by taking their new tenant on a tour, grasping him by the hand again.

“Come on. Let me show you around.”

After Conner had familiarized himself with most of the facility’s amenities, his host deemed it time to get back to unfinished business.

“We still need to create an ‘official’ public identity for you. Don’t worry, it’ll be easy.” Tim snapped his tips. “I can make it so Cadmus won’t be able to trace your location status at all. …I’ll need some better equipment than just my laptop though.”

He pressed his palm to a secret security panel (having overridden access yet again without his brother’s knowledge), and a section of the partition slid open to reveal a hidden doorway. Entering into the restricted alcove, Tim took a seat at the desk where a giant triple-monitor display was assembled, inertly collecting a thin layer of dust. Conner tiptoed in after, and wordlessly analyzed the enormous circus scroll behind them (the likes of which he had encountered – counted – an extraordinary quantity of various other advertising prints stationed all around the building) as Tim booted up the system. Conner turned at the sound of ferocious keyboard typing as Tim brought up a cascade of windows on separate computer screens all at once, digits switching nimbly between numerous tabs and increasing digital lines of text like lightning, as the stupefied spectator marveled at his capacity to keep track of them all.

“What… is all this?”

A slightly smug smirk tugged at the verge of Tim’s mouth.

“This, my friend, is how we do – did things in Gotham. Now then…” He flexed his fingers dramatically. “Watch me work some magic.”

————————–

I am no man of steel I have no heart of stone Don't tell me how it feels I'll find it on my own

#TimSteph #Tim Drake #Timmy Todd #Stephanie Brown #Conner Kent #Clark Kent #Dick Grayson #Batman the Animated Series #Batman Beyond #DCAU #Return of the Joker #fanfiction #starstories #ftr I dropped watching Young Justice after what they did to Cassandra Cain's (and by extension Barbara's) character in S4 #but Conner will always be my ragey bby #<3 #anyway I lied this is totally a harem story #*flees*

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wonder-never-wander · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 8,296 times in 2022

That's 5,985 more posts than 2021!

206 posts created (2%)

8,090 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@transgender-rex

@pogasm

@youarentreadingthis

@bifrosted-flakes

@ciitrus--fruitz

I tagged 3,122 of my posts in 2022

#save - 303 posts

#supercorp - 165 posts

#max and will - 120 posts

#will dot hellsite - 79 posts

#sc - 75 posts

#kara danvers - 58 posts

#me - 51 posts

#z-money - 42 posts

#supergirl - 40 posts

#lena luthor - 38 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#cat staring down at a pap shot of kara pressing lena against a wall three fingers deep and all she has to do is sigh to let kara know she’s

My Top Posts in 2022:

She's fucking here again.

The blonde with glasses. She comes in here sometimes, mostly with friends and stuff. Her name starts with a K.

Kamron? Katelyn? Whatever. Not my business.

What is my business, however, is how she always breaks something.

Every time she's in here, she leaves finger-shaped dents in the bar, or shatters a glass, or snaps a pool stick in half. Always laughing with her friends, breaking shit.

Every. Single. Time.

So you'll imagine my confusion (and, if we're being honest, relief) when she walks in by herself. She started to plop herself down, eyes downcast and face very timid.

Now, I don't know very much about reading people, and even I could see the exact moment she decided not to plop down, instead lowering herself very carefully.

So carefully, in fact, it seemed as if she was floating.

It wouldn't surprise me, at this point. Byproduct of working an alien dive bar, i suppose.

At least she didn't break any furniture.

Finally.

"Your usual?" I asked her, already grabbing a glass from under the bar.

She hesitated, lifting her (suspiciously red) eyes to scan the shelves behind me, then nodded.

I don't ask questions. If I questioned every single high person that came into the bar, I would never leave.

So instead, I made her club soda and set it on the bar in front of her, picking up the 5 dollar bill she had set down.

"Thanks," she said shortly, quietly, pulling the cherry out of the top and popping it in her mouth.

I wiped down the bar where I had made her drink -- if you can count a club soda as a drink -- and moved on.

About 30 minutes later, I came back to do one last round before I clocked out and went home. Sitting next to Blondie was a woman with dark hair and strikingly green eyes.

Blondie's eyes had cleared up, no longer looking like she was stoned out of her mind. They were both smiling.

"Can I get y'all anything?" I asked, internally groaning. Blondie's Friend seemed like the kind of person to order the most complicated, time-consuming drink.

"Uh, just a scotch, please. Macgallan," she said cooly, handing me a 20.

Top-shelf. Not bad.

After it was poured and handed off, I turned to Blondie. She was staring at the side of Top-shelf's face, her eyes practically heart-eyes.

I want to say I waited patiently. It would be a lie. I waited very impatiently, in fact.

Top-shelf looked over and got Blondie's attention. Instead of her being embarrassed, you know, like a normal person, she just kept staring.

"What is it for you, Blondie?" I asked through clenched teeth, irritated, resisting the urge to look at my watch.

"Another of the same," she said, pushing her glass forward. I grabbed it and refilled her drink, all the while doing my best to conceal my eavesdropping.

"Why does everyone call me "Blondie"? My sister's ex-girlfriend, my bosses, plural, my sister when she's mad," Blondie listed, counting on her fingers exasperatedly.

"You know you're... blonde, right?" Top-shelf reminded her, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. "And no offense, but you act like one sometimes, too."

See the full post

43 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

Nia: Bow down for our lord and savior, Minecraft Christ!

Kara: I only understood half of the words you just said.

51 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

i made a uquiz!!

answer some questions and i'll tell you what color i associate you with

77 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

"Dr. John Seward, the lunatic-asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good forehead."

WHAT A WAY TO DESCRIBE A MAN

118 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

124 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

2 notes · View notes

thatonebirdwrites · 4 months ago

Text

Note by me, the author: This is the first part of Sam's Tale (the third POV of my Shattered fic). I'm quite proud of it. If you enjoyed this, you'll likely enjoy the entire fic; the link is provided above.

I delve into the trauma of three individuals: Lena Luthor, Kara Zor El/Danvers, and Sam Arias and how they survived, how they work together to heal, and the final stage of this tale (called Integration), is how they will move forward in healing with their chosen family.

NOTE: Rory is the name for Katie McGrath's younger brother as specified by one of her interviews and by several other articles. That is why that name is used. Secondly, Kieran was used as the name for protective alter because it's Lena's middle name and would be less likely to be suspicious in case anyone stole their shared journal. Finally, a lot of the details on homelessless and DID in general is based on my own experience.

*** Sam’s Tale Part 1

Sam Arias makes perhaps the worst decision of her life at age fifteen. A charismatic boy literally sweeps her off her feet at a party, and she learns that sex with boys is not really her jam. It’s not bad. She definitely can be attracted to guys, but the sex is just not that great.

So when over a month later nausea sets in and she misses her period, she starts to panic. She can’t be seen buying a pregnancy test. Her mother is already on her ass for going to the party instead of studying. Perhaps a terrible plan, but she has no recourse. She goes to the store, stuffs the test into her pants, and buys a candy bar. Her first theft and hopefully her last.

The test is positive.

Sam sits in the stall at her high school and stares at the test. She blinks a few times. Closes her eyes and counts to twenty, but each time she looks, it’s definitely positive.

She’s fucked. Majorly fucked.

She rubs her face and wishes she could call Jack, but he’s in England and they’ve only ever written each other since the penpal program matched them. Sometimes she’ll make a mixtape for him, and he’ll send his own. Even though he gave her a number, international charges would have her mother yelling at her for wasting money.

So she calls the only other person she knows might help.

“Yo, Sam, what are you doing calling during school?” Lucy Lane’s voice ripples into her phone. “Isn’t there like rules or something—”

“Luce, I’m pregnant.” Sam puts her face in her hand. The test’s plastic feels cold against her forehead.

“Oh shit.”

Sam isn’t entirely sure what she expects from the friend she’d made at a theater camp. Sam preferred the calculus of the mapping out the set and its measurements to acting. Lucy quickly took her under her wing, and Sam learned she’d ran off with some girl to National City, broke up, and now builds theater sets. Sam isn’t sure if Lucy ever graduated high school or not. Talking of her past isn’t a thing Lucy does.

So okay, maybe she does expect Lucy to pull a ridiculous feat like sneak her off school grounds without anyone catching them.

Sam doesn’t question it. She’s learned better. When Lucy sets her mind on something, she makes it happen, no matter how ridiculous the steps she takes to get there.

The wind sweeps Sam’s curtain of brown hair back, while Lucy shouts ridiculous jokes over the roar of her truck and the loud rap music. Lucy pulls onto the highway entrance ramp, probably way above the speed limit. Sam has no idea where they’re going, but who cares? Her mother is going to kill her when she finds out Sam’s pregnant, so why not take a moment for herself?

Lucy pulls into the Sierra State Park and drives up a narrow road to the mountain peak’s parking lot. She pulls to a stop, cranks up the brake, and turns to Sam. “So, uh, you really are…?”

Sam hands her the test.

“Damn. Was the sex good at least?”

Sam shakes her head.

“Well fuck. That sucks. I’m sorry, girl. Look, there’s a few things we can do.” Lucy taps her driving wheel, nibbles on her lips, then nods. “I’m getting out the beer.” She throws open her door and dives into the bed of her trunk where her cooler always is.

Sam steps out and walks to the edge of the gravel lot. Benches form a train of seats that overlooks a massive cliff. To her left, a trail winds up a rocky expanse to the fairly flat peak. She can see National City in all its glory with the ocean beyond, sparkling in the noon sun.

“Beer or Sprite?”

“Beer but only one.” Sam needs to take the edge off her sizzling nerves.

Lucy hands her a beer and guides her to a bench. She takes a swig and sighs. “So, uh, you got two choices. Abortion or keep it.”

Sam sniffs the beer and wrinkles her nose. “Couldn’t get the good lager?”

“Hey!” Lucy pretends to look affronted. “Best stuff I could buy on my stupid theater salary. Just you wait until I sign up for the Airforce. I’ll come home with the best beer you’ll ever taste.”

Sam hates the idea of Lucy going off to the military, but her friend seems determined to follow in her father’s footsteps. Considering how good she is at hand-to-hand combat already, Sam could see her excelling there, but it hurts. She’s one of Sam’s closest friends. She takes a long swig of the beer and grimaces. “Probably bad for any baby,” she mutters.

“Look, you don’t got to keep it.”

“And what if I do?” Sam snaps.

Lucy holds up her hands, the beer in her left. “Hey, I’m not saying you can’t keep it. But you’re young.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’m two years your elder, thank you very much.” Lucy takes another swig and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “Look, I’m just saying being a teenage mother is hard. You sure you wanna sign up for that?”

Sam wants to scream at her shitty luck more than anything else. “How much time do I have to decide?” she says instead.

“Uh, for an abortion? When did you shag that boy?”

“Month and a week I think? It was that party Mom grounded me for.” Sam sips the beer and leans forward, her elbows on her knees.

“Oh shit, okay.” Lucy throws back the last of her beer. “Good thing you’re in Cali. Got a few weeks.”

Sam sighs. She turns the bottle in her fingers and watches the sun glint off the glass. What would be the smartest decision? Maybe getting the abortion, but what about the kid? It’s not the kid’s fault Sam made a bad decision.

Lucy, thankfully, seems to sense Sam’s anguish, and doesn’t push her to talk. Just brings out more beer and a Sprite when Sam shakes her head at the truly awful lager. They drink and toss rocks over the cliff until the sun starts to drift toward the horizon.

“Mom’s gonna be pissed,” Sam says. She downs her sprite and tosses the can into the back of Lucy’s truck.

“Fuck her.”

“Luce.” Sam doesn’t know how to finish her sentence. She falls to her knees instead, wraps her arms around herself, and cries.

Lucy drops next to her and tugs her into a hug. Sam presses her face into her friend’s shoulder and weeps until she feels like a dried up husk. Even then, she doesn’t let go until the sun dips past the horizon and the shadows morph into night.

Sam is grounded.

Not for skipping school, well, no, actually that too, but mostly because she’d smelled like beer and came home at midnight. Sam doesn’t fight it like she usually does. She shrugs and agrees. Her mother seems taken aback and shuts up. The ensuing silence defines the word awkward.

Her only bright light in this mess is a package from Jack. Inside she finds a finger-sized sculpture of one of the Queen’s guard. Holy crap is their hats huge and bushy. Jack really wasn’t kidding in his last letter.

Luv,

I must say you have impeccable music tastes. I feel like I’ve sampled most of America’s offerings, and then you pull up even more surprises.

How’s those classes of yours? Blowing away the tests with your great intellect? Bet you’re running circles around the gits with your dazzling math skills. I am horribly boring right now, so I’m afraid this letter shall be short. Application after application to all those ‘fancy-pants schools’ as you put it. I am nothing but not fancy. I’ll be sure to bring a top hat, monocle, and pocketwatch for my fancy-pants suits. Must look the part, right?

(picture of Jack in the get-up taped to the page)

Much love,

Jack

Sam wraps the blanket around herself and chuckles at the absolute ridiculousness of Jack’s stance. His golden-brown skin, bushy black hair and beard, plus the aristocrat attire? He definitely has Prince Charming vibes going. She debates how to reply, pens a few attempts, but she doesn’t make it past the first sentence. It all sounds so, so pathetic. She rips up the papers and tosses them.

As the week passes, her world slowly tumbles toward a singularity. Sam can’t focus, and the school bullies start to badger her each time she heads to the bathroom to either vomit or dry heave. The growing nausea is awful, and she doesn’t know if it’s from the pregnancy or her growing panic.

When she ends up in a fistfight with one of the bullies, she knocks him clean on his back in front of the school doors, in full view by nearly everyone. She sprints off before the teachers descend, but the bully had it coming honestly. They leave her alone after that.

Her only relief is the days Lucy picks her up and takes her on a wild ride around town.

Then comes the dreams.

In them, Sam walks through a golden field. At her side, a nebulous figure shimmers like one of those 3D pictures that look like five pictures layered over each until you don the glasses and it turns into a 3D worldscape. In front of them runs a child, who laughs and shouts for them to hurry. Two more figures stand on the other side of the field and wave at them, but beyond that, the world shimmers in a growing fog.

It’s so peaceful.

Sam has never felt such peace in her life. She’s grown up under the watchful eye of her mother, who curses often and looks nothing like her. Sam’s close to six feet tall, while her mother stands closer to five. She has a more amber-hue to her skin tone, while her mother has a light tan. Her hair a dark brown, while her mother’s light brown fades to white. Even her rounder face looks nothing like her mother’s more angular one.

Sam has suspected for a long while that she’s been adopted, but her mother never speaks of it. Nor has she found any evidence of adoption papers or even a birth certificate. She wonders some days if her mother even wanted to raise her, or if she got roped into it. Much of Sam’s childhood was her mother hyper-analyzing everything she did. Every minute of Sam’s day was accounted for with an intensity that only let up when her mother drank. As Sam got older, she started to drink more often.

She’d go from praising Sam’s math homework to angrily yelling at her, while holding a beer. The board games they played when she was younger rarely happens now. She demands Sam write down the week’s schedule and mark it off on the fridge else the yell-a-thons would start. No one said she had to be honest about keeping the schedule. It’s not like her mother notices when she’s drunk half the time.

It’s why Sam won’t drink more than one bottle. Even that she rarely finishes. She’s seen how it turns her mother rancid.

Lucy respects it, though she teased at first, until she witnessed a yell-a-thon. She never teased again after that, and always gave her a choice. One of the few times in Sam’s life she had a choice. In fact, all of the choices she made herself was when with Lucy or when she lied to her mother. Funny that.

Now she stands before the biggest one in her life, and time bumbles forward as if mocking her. She marks each day on her calendar before she loses her chance for an abortion. Getting checked out will be wise. Yet each time Sam heads toward the Planned Parenthood clinics, she sees the cultists marching with their signs about damnation. The idea of fighting them just exhausts her. So she gets back into the truck.

Lucy offers to punch a way through, but Sam shakes her head. They either go to their mountain spot or to an arcade.

The dreams grow more vivid, and Sam wonders if the universe is making its will known.

Or maybe it’s her guilt speaking.

It’s during her fifth attempt to go to the clinic when Lucy puts her foot down.

“That’s it, girl. No more running. Either get your ass in there or I’ll carry you myself.”

Sam can’t help but laugh at the image of way short Lucy carrying her. “Luce, I’m literally a foot taller than you.”

“Height don’t meant anything. I got the guns.” Lucy flexes with a grin. “Want to find out how well I can carry you?”

Sam taps her chin. “You know, that would be kind of funny to see how the cultists react to us.”

The mischievous look on Lucy’s face has Sam regretting her words. Giving Lucy ideas is not a smart move.

“Wanna give them the best show of their lives?” Lucy winks.

Sam knows she should say no.

But this might be the last time she gets to be a wild teen, so why the hell not?

And that’s why Sam finds herself held in a bridal carry, her long legs sticking out comically. Lucy wears a werewolf mask she had in her cab — Sam never questions what Lucy has stashed there — and Sam gets to wear the blond wig and a bright pink facemask.

Lucy shoves her way through as she shouts, “Move it, we’re gay!”

Anyone that tries to step in their way, Lucy wields Sam’s way too long legs like they’re tire irons. Sam’s pretty sure she must have clocked at least one cultist with her boots, but she’s too busy laughing at how Lucy just keeps shouting the same phrase over and over. Whatever the cultists shout back, Sam can’t make it out because Lucy is so damn loud.

Oh boy, does she wish she could film this shit.

They make it to the door, where Lucy gently puts Sam back on her feet. The door flies open and a person in nurse garb ushers them inside with a glare at the shouting and sneering cultists.

“Are you two okay?” The nurse looks them over. He doesn’t seem phased at all by Lucy’s werewolf mask or Sam’s attire.

“Yeah.” Lucy shrugs. “Probably were the only entertainment those freaks ever had.”

Sam rubs her stomach that aches still from the dash and her laughter. “It did get us through.”

“Definitely creative.” The nurse smiles. “So do you both need an appointment?”

And just like that, the urge to run jolts through Sam.

Except she really doesn’t want to face the cultists alone.

Lucy looks at her pointedly, and with a heavy swallow, Sam slips off her disguise and raises her hand like she’s in school.

Which she’s currently skipping for this.

Definitely getting another grounding if her mother finds out.

The nurse smiles and gently brings her to the main desk. He and the clerk work together to ease Sam’s nerves. Lucy makes random growling noises at anyone who looks their way. Not that there’s many in the waiting area. Sam suspects Lucy’s just doing it for her sake.

Sam gets ushered into an exam room within fifteen minutes. She opts for Lucy to stay with her, mostly because she definitely doesn’t want to be alone.

Not when she faces the biggest decision of her life.

Does she keep the fetus? Or abort it?

Lucy lifts her werewolf mask and pats Sam’s hand, her brow creased with worry.

Doctor Singh is patient. Goes through the exam and explains each step. All that does is confirm what Sam already knows. She’s pregnant and very close to the cut-off date for abortion.

Sam closes her eyes. The dream melts through her thoughts. A laughing child urges her and the nebulous figure toward a shimmering but bright future.

“Does your mother know?” the doctor asks. A pen scratches against paper.

“No.” Sam rubs her face. “I — I’m afraid to tell her.”

“Hun,” Doctor Singh touches her knee. Sam opens her eyes to warm hazel eyes and a concerned expression. “Do you feel safe at home?”

Sam stares at her, stunned by the question. Does she? She’s never actually considered it. She glances at Lucy, but her friend only looks steadily at her, her expression serious for once. “I — I think so? I mean, she only wants the best for me.”

The doctor tilts her head and waits.

“Like she’s never hit me,” Sam tries to justify her earlier words. “She might yell but I usually deserve it.” When the doctor looks like she might refute that, she adds quickly, “Look, let’s just focus on this.” She waves her hand at her stomach.

Doctor Singh sighs. “You’re a minor. We technically need your guardian’s permission for procedures such as abortion. Do you think she can provide it?”

Sam feels the creep of panic. It doesn’t matter if her mother will or not.

The dream filters through her pores, and she just knows that she can’t abort this kid.

“No — I mean, I’m gonna keep it.” Sam stumbles to her feet. The urge to sprint from the room rears again. Lucy’s hand stops her.

“You sure, Sam?” Lucy’s quiet tone with the werewolf mask still perched atop her head is quite the juxtaposition.

Talk about dreamlike, Sam pinches herself to make sure she really is awake. The pain definitely confirms that. Sam nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.”

As she says the words, determination filters through her limbs. She’ll just keep it a secret as long as she can. Her mother doesn’t have to know.

When Sam’s ‘bump’ starts to show, Sam heads to the clinic more often and wears baggier clothing. Exhaustion hits her often, and she has frequent binges of the weirdest food combo.

Running becomes way too difficult, so she skips Physical Education entirely. Instead, she sneaks to the roof through a maintenance shaft in the northern stairwell. She drinks sprite while watching everyone else run in circles on the track. She’s already grounded, so she doesn’t care about the consequences. She only endures another of her mother’s yell-a-thons then locks herself in her room to study or sleep.

After her fourth visit to the clinic, her mother corners her in the living room. She sees the clinic papers laid out on the table and winces at her mistake. She must have left it out on her desk by accident.

“Samantha Arias,” her mother snaps her name. “Sit down, now.”

Sam tugs on the drawstrings of her hoodie and hovers in the doorway instead. “Look, I can explain….”

“Explain that you’ve seen a doctor four times recently?” Her mother’s eyes pierce through Sam’s defenses. She waves her hand at Sam’s attire. “And increasingly baggy clothing? Grades slipping? I’m not a fool. I hope to hell those doctor visits were an abortion.”

Sam stares at her mother, stunned. Sure, her mother isn’t religious, but she has random Catholic imagery on the walls. So shoot her for not expecting her mother to be for abortion. “I — uh, well, no. I’m keeping it.”

“What?” Her mother stomps up to her and tilts her head back, still intimidating despite being a foot shorter. “Samantha, that child will destroy your future. You’ll never get into college. Never achieve your dreams. You’ll end up a crack whore in some gutter. Is that what you want?”

“Hey, those sex workers are people too, you know!” Sam deflects, upset. “It’s not okay to call them that.”

Her mother grabs her by the arm and marches her to her bedroom. “Go, pack.”

“What?” Sam stumbles into her room. “Pack?”

“I said, pack. You want to be a whore so bad, then get those clothes in a bag now.” She points to the closet.

Anger and embarrassment flushes through her. “That’s it? You’re gonna throw out your kid? I made one mistake, Mom! One!”

“A hell of a lot more by my count! Since you know what you want, then you don’t need me! Get that damn bag packed, now. Giving you ten minutes.” She marches away cursing as she goes.

Tears sting Sam’s eyes, but she refuses to cry. Instead, she stomps to her closet and rips the door off its rollers. She tosses it aside.

She collects the baggiest clothes she has, rolls them as compact as she can, and shoves it in her backpack. All her electronics and school notebooks get tossed in side pockets or tucked in the laptop pouch. Next comes all the money show owns: thirty-six dollars and half a jar of quarters. She can’t take all her plushies, so she settles for her favorite dragon.

Two punches later, she has enough room for one comic, a book, and Jack’s gifts slipped between clothing and laptop pouch. Atop that she lays the white baby blanket her mother swears she was swaddled in. It’s stitched with an unusual design, and she knows it’s from her real parents. Her current Mom can’t stitch to save her life. Her final object is a packet of letters from friends and the pen pal the school set her up with two years ago.

She fingers the letters and thinks of Jack. How despite the program’s end last year, they’d stayed in contact. He loves her terrible puns, though the ones he shares sends her on a hunt in the British urban dictionary to figure out. She still hasn’t told him of her situation. Fear has held her pen, because that might mean one less friend.

Her hand shakes as she tucks the bundle into her clothes.

Her mother claps her hand, startling Sam. “Get moving. We don’t got all day.”

Angrily, Sam flips off her mother. That earns her a slap.

“I took you in, gave you a home, and here you are spitting on my efforts,” her mother yells. She slaps an envelope into Sam’s hand. “So get out and join your whore friends now.”

Sam clenches her jaw, pockets whatever the envelope is, and swings her pack over her shoulder. She meets her mother’s glare, but doesn’t deign her with a response.

What could she even say?

She storms out of the house instead and walks until her muscles burn and her stomach twists with nausea. The streets are dark, the weather cool, and clouds drift over the moon. They live on the outskirts of the city, not far from the mountains that ring the city. The streets harbor massive potholes, some street lamps fail to work, and the area itself has seen little upkeep for most of Sam’s life. Most of the city’s money funnels into downtown or along the seafront, not here.

Shadows loom from abandoned storefronts, and the corner gas stations flicker with fluorescent light that goes in and out depending on the hour. She doesn’t know what to do. Tears threaten, but she swallows them and rubs her face angrily.

There’s a bench by the gas station’s door. A clerk sits inside reading a book. Exhausted, she sits down and rubs her calves. There’s a mailbox on the other side of the door, one of those old blue ones, but the side has a fresh sticker with ink that says ‘pickup at 4pm weekdays.’

It’s a Thursday.

Sam pulls out a notebook and scribbles a quick letter. Might as well tear-off the band-aid. It’s not like Jack can reply. She has no address anymore.

Jack,

I should have told you this several letters ago, but fear beat it out of me. Well, now I got nothing left but the clothes on my back and whatever I stuffed in my backpack. I’m homeless. Mom kicked me out.

All because I made one dumb choice. Before you ask, the dude was sort of hot, but he never spoke to me again afterward. So he doesn’t know he’s going to be a father.

Yeah, sure, I could have aborted, but I kept having this dream of a kid running in the grass laughing. And I just couldn’t. It’s not the kid’s fault this happened. And maybe the universe has something in store for us? I don’t know.

All I know is Mom threw me out for it. I guess even if you wanted to reply I have no address now. Maybe I’ll get a PO Box? But then, I don’t have much money.

I’m sorry. I really enjoy writing you. I think of you as one of my best friends. I really hope life treats you better than it does me. I just know you’ll make it into Cambridge or MIT. You got the smarts and the will. You’ll do great. Keep being your awesome self, and never doubt your skills. I hope that someday we’ll get a chance to meet. Until then, much love, my friend.

Your buddy,

Sam

She heads inside to buy sprite, chips, and an envelope. That leaves her with only thirty-one dollars and eighteen cents to her name. Before she can second-guess herself, she mails the letter and digs out her phone.

Lucy picks up on the third ring. ��Yo, Sam, it’s like mid—”

“Mom kicked me out.” The tears threaten to overcome her then. She leans back, one hand on her bump, and feels nauseous. Reality crashes in on her. She won’t be able to finish high school, will she? Or go to college? No, there’s got to be a way to still make this work.

“Fuck. Shit. Okay. Where are you?”

“I — I don’t know. I just started walking. Some gas station?” Sam squints at the street signs but the street lamps are too unreliable for her to make out the words. “Edge of the city?”

“That place better be open. Go and ask. I’m grabbing clothes.” A crash sounds through the phone and Lucy curses. “Bad timing, Sam. I aced the GED finally, and so signed up immediately after. Training starts in three weeks. I — I didn’t really think this through. I should be here for you. I’m sorry.” It’s the first time she’s ever heard Lucy sound anguished.

“Oh.” Sam rubs her face. “Okay. No, no, don’t apologize. Follow your dreams. Don’t stop them on my account.” Yup, the universe really has a terrible sense of humor. She stands and asks the clerk where the hell she is and texts it to Lucy. Ten minutes later, Lucy bundles her into her truck.

Her body aches in time with her nausea and exhaustion. She leans her forehead against the cold window and ignores all of Lucy’s attempts at conversation.

Lucy refuses to let her take the sofa in her studio. “Sleep in that bed, Sam,” she gently pushes her into the mattress. Sam feels heavy, gross, and too worn out to attempt another protest. It takes her a long time to finally fall asleep.

Three days later, Sam discovers a school ID alone won’t get her a job. The envelope her mother gave her is only forty dollars and a weird looking blue crystal. Both she tucks deep in her backpack. Not particularly helpful. She and Lucy scour government sites and try to order a copy, but to no avail. It’s like Sam doesn’t exist.

“How did she get you enrolled in school then?” Lucy growls. She jabs her finger into the keyboard as if that will somehow convince the government to send Sam a birth certificate or a Social Security number.

Sam sighs. “Maybe we’re doing this wrong? Adoption papers maybe?”

Lucy taps her fingers against the laptop. Both of them sit on the bed surrounded by a fortress of chips, pickle jars, and Thai take-out containers. “Huh, so maybe not just some wild theory anymore.” She opens another tab. “I’ll dig a bit and you —” she tosses her phone into Sam’s lap “— call my sister. She’s got contacts. Might have some ideas.”

Sam frowns. “Why don’t you call her?”

“Hell no. We don’t get along.” Lucy prods Sam’s leg with her foot. “You know that.”

Yeah, sure she does, but that doesn’t mean Sam gets the why. But then she’s never had a sibling, so she doesn’t protest again.

To her surprise, Lois answers on the second ring. “Dammit, Lucy, if you’re calling, something bad happened, so out with it.”

“Um. It’s, uh, not Lucy,” Sam winces at how awkward she sounds. “It’s Sam actually.”

“Sam?” Lois’s tone changes to a softer one. “Why’re you calling on Luce’s number?”

“She tossed the phone in my lap and said you got contacts who can help.”

“Wait, start over. What happened?”

“Oh, you know, I’m just another homeless pregnant teen. So cliche, right?” She goes for humor and attempts a chuckle but it comes out more a sob.

“Shit, kid. I’m sorry. If you’re with Lucy, why call me?”

Lucy looks up and sighs. “Hand it over. It ought to come from me.” She hands Lois off. “Hey sis, bit the bullet and signed up for the Airforce. Going to training in a few weeks.” She hands the phone back before Lois can reply.

Sam hears the shout instead and winces at the intensity. “Uh, Lois, it’s me, Sam again.”

“Just like her to drop that bomb and walk away,” Lois mutters. “Okay, kid. I got some friends in National City. I’m pretty sure I can work out a deal with them, give you a few months until you’re on your feet. You’ll need to either finish high school or get a GED. A job definitely but first let’s get you housing. We’ll sort out a better plan once you’re settled, okay?”

Sam has managed to not cry since Lucy picked her up at the gas station, but the kindness of the Lane sisters finally does her in.

She weeps.

*** (Present)

Sam sometimes wonders what her life would entail if she hadn’t gotten pregnant at fifteen, but one look at Ruby, and she doesn’t regret any of it. The loving kindness of others taught her how to accept and pay it forward. Her motto that she’s been teaching Ruby as well. Kieran often claims Sam taught her that too.

She sighs and watches Rory tug the blanket tighter around herself. That’s one thing Lena/Kieran/Others and her had in common, neither of them ever truly got to be kids. Jack can't help today, so Sam will have to buckle down and figure out a solution.

“Lena,” Sam whispers, “I know you're in there.” She reaches out to brush black hair from Rory's face. “How would you or Kieran handle this?”

Rory glances at her, her eyebrows scrunched as if in thought. Her other hand lifts from under the blankets and forms the sign for ‘endure.'

Yes, Sam knows Rory is the one that endures. Helplessness seeps through her limbs. She looks down at her phone and flips through the contacts again with her thumb. One by one names trickle by until she stops at Kara Danver's name.

“I’m going to check something,” she tells Rory. “Tonight Kara is visiting with a friend. We can play a game until they arrive but only if you eat.”

Rory tilts her head, and her face contorts — wrinkles in forehead, scrunched eyebrows, flared nostrils, slight grimace, and sucked in cheeks — a sign of a possible switch.

Sam holds her breath in hope.

The expression fades into a series of coughs, and Rory burrows further into the blankets. One hand grips the spoon again and forms the whirlpools once more.

Sam lets out her breath. “Promise me, you'll eat? Otherwise, no games later.”

The seven-year old narrows her eyes but reluctantly nods. Sam will take that as progress.

Standing, she glances at her daughter, who sits curled up in the armchair by the sofa. Her latest book — a science fiction novella about nonbinary monks and robots — lays open in her lap. Ruby's fingers crinkle the page right before she turns it.

Sam marvels for the millionth time how much Ruby looks like her. Only her nose and thicker build gives any hint of the worthless father.

Her baby, the reason for much of what Sam does. Today, Ruby's hair curls down past her shoulders, still damp from a shower, and her brown eyes scan the pages of her book. She looks up at Sam, her eyebrows pinched in worry.

“Keep an eye on her, Rubes. I’ll be on the balcony.”

Ruby gives her a thumbs-up. She knows the drill. In a way, she and Rory act as sisters, which puts Sam in the weird-ass role of mother figure when Rory fronts.

So very different from the best friend role Sam holds for Lena, and the nebulous more than friend role for Kieran. All aspects that leaves Sam in a strange limbo of not able to ever confess her feelings.

Outside, the wind blows cool with a taste of salt off the ocean. Sam leans against the railing and struggles to hold back her tears. Is this disaster the one that finally breaks her best friend?

Sam had promised herself long ago to make sure Lena was never alone with Lex, and yet, four days ago that exact scenario played out while Sam was stuck in Metropolis. She'd been there for the past three months fixing a major production and accounting mishap, which meant Ruby temporarily enrolling in a school there in the interim.

Convenient that such a mishap happened just when Lex strolls back into Lena's life. Sam rubs her eyes and slumps against the railing. The mishap she repaired had been sabotage, that Sam knows, but she can't scrounge up enough evidence to confirm by whom.

Even though in her heart she's positive it was Lex's way to separate her and Lena.

Isolating Lena slowly. Like he always does.

Sam can't ever forget the moment she learns of his abuse. During the initial merger, years ago, Lena had been sitting in her office after a meeting with Lex. Sam only came by to drop off her report, but what she found alarmed her. Lena's expression had been twisted in what looked like pain. All her work dropped at the sight of Lena’s red, chafed skin and marks on her cheek and wrists. Sam had never felt such anger in her life, nor has she ever hated someone before. But she hates Lex.

Yet she'd failed. All their work to free Lena from the Luthors shredded by Lex. The urge to scream and rip apart the world seethes in Sam.

At least Lex is dead. The fucking bastard. But it should have been her hands that did it. Not Lena's.

She rubs away her angry tears and pulls out her phone. Thumbs through the unlock and hovers over Kara's name. There’s a text waiting for her.

Chat with Lena's Kara 1:12pm Lena's Kara: alex and i will be there in a jiffy giffy however you spell that. Still good to go Sam: Sorry for delay. Yes. I have an important question to ask when you get here. It’s sensitive. Lena's Kara: Ok

Sam shoves her phone in her pocket and watches the traffic below. Kara's kindness saturates Lena and her alters' life and in a way Sam's too. She's never fully shaken her distrust of it, but she's gotten pretty good at paying it forward. Something she learned the hard way during those early years when she'd been a homeless, pregnant teen.

***

(Past)

Three weeks later, she hugs Lucy goodbye as she boards the train to head east. Her ‘last big hurrah’ as her friend puts it. Sam wishes she could go with her, but neither of them have the money for that.

“Take it easy, you hear?” Lucy pokes her shoulder. “I want you both healthy. Or I’ll come back and throttle your ass.”

Sam smiles through her tears. “Sure, Luce. Be safe, okay? I know you’re allergic to words, but try writing or at least calling. I want to hear how it all goes.”

“Sure thing.” Lucy gives her one last hug before leaping onto the train. She salutes Sam and runs up the steps and out of sight.

Sam turns, picks up all her worldly possessions, and goes to meet Lois’s friends. She only knows them by their first names, Sarah and Lacey, but Lois sent pictures, so she sights them standing by a fancy Mercedes in the parking lot.

“Listen, we got a few ground rules,” Sarah says, “Label your shit in the fridge and don’t touch our food without permission. Don’t enter our room ever. Get a job pronto. We’ll help you find a cheap place. No loud anything after midnight. Got it?”

Sam nods. “Got it, and thanks.” Sam doesn’t speak the rest of the ride. Not that the two seem to notice, since they spend the drive singing to lyrics.

After that initial meet, Sam struggles to connect with either of them. They’re ten years older and treat her like glass since she’s expecting. Plus their apartment feels rich, which makes Sam reluctant to touch, well, anything. She’s tall, mostly limbs, and currently way too clumsy thanks to the growing kid in her.

She opts to not return to high school, because honestly who can enforce it? It’s not like anyone there or her mother gives a shit about her. Both Sarah and Lacey have long hours, and Sam is far too nervous to ask them for rides.

So she takes a bus or a tram around the city. She uses ten dollars to purchase a GED study guide at the Half Price Books downtown, and grabs applications everywhere she goes.

Without a proper ID, she stalls on the job front. It’s incredibly frustrating. When Lois calls for a check-in, Sam gives in and admits her struggle. “It’s like I don’t exist. How can I get an ID or any job?”

“Oh, you asked the right sister,” Lois replies. “Investigations are my specialty. Give me a week. I’ll triangulate with Sarah and we’ll fix this.” Sam’s dubious but agrees since she has no other recourse at this point.

It’s lonely and scary working on these huge life changes mostly by herself. She wishes she had anyone to talk with, but Lois has a limited time window on her check-ins. So she breaks down and writes Jack from this new address. She includes a copy of the ultrasounds the last checkup gave her. Kid isn’t too big yet, looks like a fuzzy ball more than anything.

“Wonder if he’ll reply back?” she says to her kid. She’s read that talking to the child before they’re born is supposed to help somehow. Maybe its junk science, but she feels better, though she times it for when she’s alone.

Lois and friends work some sort of magic, and they locate bizarre adoption records. Whoever her birth parents are, they aren’t listed. In fact, the listing describes her as found. The hell? As much as she wants to research that, she has far more pressing issues. She needs a driver’s license, a job, and her GED. Hopefully before the kid is born.

Worse, she’s pretty much out of money and relying on the goodwill of others. It’s only a matter of time before they want something in return, and what does she have to give? Nothing.

No, relying on kindness isn’t something she wants to hinge on for long. So she dives into her tasks, determined to fight her way out of this mess. She spends long hours on the bus going from government building to building to get all the paperwork for her license. Once in hand, her shoes soon develop holes from all her walking, and she fills out probably a million job applications. The library’s computer center becomes a second home with its temperature controlled area, and access to all the research she could ever want.

She checks out math textbooks and works on memorizing and honing her skills. Parent books are next, where she takes notes and cross-references different authors. She tallies her findings in spreadsheets and makes pretend powerpoints for herself.

Without fail, she spends at least a few hours vomiting in the bathroom. Early morning sickness has hit hard, and she hates it with a vengeance. But she made a choice. She’s going to have this kid, and they’re going to have a good life somehow someway.

Three weeks later a surprise shows up in the mail.

Luv,

I have been tearing my hair out worried. I am relieved to hear you have housing. And to see pictures of the child? This is absolutely lovely. You are one brave gal.

I was accepted into MIT’s nanotechnology and biology programs. My blokes hosted a celebration party, and I kept wishing you were here celebrating too. I’m seriously considering National City instead. At the least, we’ll be in the same country. Would you be open to a visit?

I promise to be the best uncle. (I apologize that I do not have your prowess in making mixtapes, so please accept my humble offering. May it entertain you on those long bus rides. I also included a few snack items that I doubt you American blokes have. I guarantee their tastiness.)

Much love,

Jack

Sam opens one of the candy bags and bites into the best chocolate concoction she’s had in her life. Wow. She puts the CD in her walkman, and plays it as she reads the letter out loud to her baby bump. The mixture of British and Irish rock flows fairly well, with only a few songs that don’t fit together quite right. But that’s okay. She can hear the care that Jack took burning this CD.

She wonders if the kid likes it too.

She writes back the next day. It’ll take her more time to make a new mixtape for him, but she can at least include some poetry she wrote while bored on the bus. She carefully writes them out with colored pens and doodles on the side.

Jack,

I’m staying with Lucy’s sister’s friends, say that ten times fast, so I don’t know what rules they have for visitors. I can at least meet you at the airport, and we can nab some grub. I’m still looking for a job, so I can’t afford much. I’ve had cravings for salty food and brussel sprouts of all things.

Do NOT say no to MIT on my behalf. That’s your dream! Don’t make me practice my mother tone on you.

I’m working on the GED, which is like a high school degree but not. Then I’ll try to get into a trade school. I’m decent with math, so maybe accounting? Hopefully it’ll have less hours and better pay for the kid’s sake. I’m going to make this work. I want this kid to have a happy life, and damn if I’m not gonna get there somehow.

Your very exhausted whale of a friend,

Sam

P.S. I included some poems I wrote while incredibly bored on the city bus. It takes forever to get anywhere in this city. I wish I had a car, but saving for housing comes first I guess.

When she finally nabs a job at the library, she suspects Lois or her friends pulled strings for her since she has no job history nor diploma. The downtown branch may be fairly busy, but they give her a morning shift, when there’s less people.

The librarian takes a liking to her, often asking for her thoughts on various kid activities. This delights Sam, and she pours her energy into it. She keeps track of what activities do well and which don’t as a sort of side project, but when the children’s librarian finds out, she’s delighted by Sam’s initiative. When Sam catches a math error in the budget, she gets shifted more toward financial instead of simply checking out patrons or setting up activities. Plus being able to sit down for most of the shift is a major relief for her swelling calves and persistent ache in her lower back.

The bus rides prove the worst part of her day. Crowded, loud, and the leering guys makes her wish she had a car. But that she can’t afford. Not yet.

One day after she gets home from a long bus ride, she is delighted to see another reply from Jack.

Luv,

I will be good and follow my dream. Soon I will walk the halls of MIT and dive into the wonders of biology, nanotechnology, and the intersection of both. What shall I discover in such humble avenues? Do you think I’ll be able to crack the code and have nanotechnology deliver medicine to cure cancer? Perhaps impossible dream, but you have inspired me. I will give it my all.

However, I admit, I am dying to hear what your ‘mother tone’ sounds like. I suspect you’ll put your hands on your hips and look quite devastating.

I must say you are quite the wordsmith. Those poems ranged from invoking laughter to inducing tears. Bravo! Please continue.

How about I visit before I start my term? I know, I know, I’m giving you only a few months to prepare. For someone as fine as me, you’ll need all that time. I’m kidding — that’s what you blokes in America say, yes?

Here’s my US number. Let me hear that voice of yours. My imagination only stretches so far.

If you see any hot guys at your soon-to-be-job, please drop my number with them. Better get in my wild times before university eats me up.

Much love,

Jack

Sam smiles and runs her fingers over the cursive letters. It becomes a habit to read to the kid Jack’s and Lucy’s letters — Sam is amused by whatever the heck she drew at the end. Looks like a constipated dog. Or perhaps a dying raccoon?

In reply, she does her own attempt at a dog, and it looks just as bad. Maybe it’ll get a laugh from Lucy. She reads her reply letters to her kid too. Might as well share the entire conversation, right?

Walking has become far more precarious than she’d like. She’s grateful for the sit-down job. Standing hurts. She’s also craving asparagus of all things. She didn’t even like asparagus before. What is this kid doing to her?

As she pens another reply to Jack’s increasingly frequent letters — his ridiculous descriptions of London has her laughing until her sides hurt — she tries not to think about her mother. Or how she ought to be here for Sam and the kid. She tries not to think about her high school either or the upcoming GED test. Or the rising medical costs. Or her precarious transportation options. Or her increasingly unstable housing.

Honestly, she’s trying not to think about anything but the next day. One step at a time as her doctor often puts it.

Jack,

I’ll probably attempt a call before you get this letter, but the letter demands to be written. This is the way.

Have you seen any Star Wars? If not, maybe we’ll crash your hotel room and just go on a binge. Anakin being adopted by two Jedi felt like me, except I got a very anti-Jedi parent. Maybe for the best since Anakin’s arc turned dark.

I’m hoping my life won’t be so dark. Sure, I got stuck with this kid growing in me — damn is the kid getting heavy — but I’m kind of excited to be a mother. I’m going to do everything in my power to give this kid the best life. No falling down Anakin’s path. I’m gonna soar like Princess Leia does.

No, don’t ask me the gender question. It’s going to be a surprise. I have names for all sorts of genders sorted in a spreadsheet. And yup, spreadsheet porn, that’s how I roll.

I can’t afford my former phone, but the Lane sisters’ helped me get a pay as you go one. So here’s that number. It, sadly, only does text and calls. I had to leave my gamecube behind, but maybe I can save up for a Nintendo DS or something. I miss dressing up like some fancy-pants rich fucker and shooting zombies. Got to look stylish for apocalypses you know.

Your whaling over corny shows best buddy,

Sam

P.S. I loved your mixtape. This new one I curated in honor of yours. It’s full of lesser known indie rock. Here’s the playlist.

It takes her a week to call the number Jack gave her. She waits until after her shift at the library and finds a spot in the garden outside. Palm trees line the walkways, flower bushes clustered like hedges, and a fountain blooms near the center.

On the fourth ring, a person with a surprisingly deep voice answers.

“Jack Spheer speaking.”

“Hi Jack.” Sam runs a hand through her hair. “It’s Sam. You know, the dork you’ve been writing in National City that is still sort of homeless?”

“Oh my god! Sam!” Jack’s delight immediately eases her anxiety. “Luv, I gotta say I pictured higher pitched, but god, am I glad to be wrong. You get all the ladies with those velvet tones, don’t you?”

Sam can’t help but laugh. “Charmer.”

“So how’s my favorite penpal? Did you find a job? How big is the grapefruit now?”

Maybe she shouldn’t have written ‘grapefruit size’ on the back of those pictures. “I got a clerk job at the library. I should send you updated pics. You can see features now. Looks less like a blob and more human.”

“Yes please. Give me all the pics. I must live vicariously through you since I cannot carry to term.”

“Jack, you can’t carry at all.” Sam shakes her head, amused.

“Oh you wound me. I have you know I can carry my laptop bag. And perhaps a cat or two.” Jack’s jokes are even better out loud than reading them on paper. “Now about my visit. I simply do not wish to stress you. Should I wait until end of my first semester?”

“Hell no.” Sam desperately wants to see any friend at this point. With Lucy being away at boot camp and only calling once in a blue moon and sending sparse letters, she’s relying a lot on Jack’s correspondence. “Visit. Just be prepared that I am pregnant, so probably look like some sort of super tall, bloated monster.”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen your photos. You will look lovely.” Jack’s compliment helps to hear even if she definitely does not believe him. Planning the visit, however, lifts her mood considerably. It’s still two months away, which cuts it a bit close to her due date, but dammit, Sam needs something to look forward to in her exhausting life.

As time careens toward Sam’s due date, Sam frets over how to prepare. She’s saved up from the Library job, but it’s not quite enough for an apartment of her own. Why is the rent so damn high everywhere? All places require three months rent as downpayment, which she can’t yet do. At least, the GED test turns out easy, and she scores high. Marking it off her list feels like a win.

Lois calls often with advice or to ask how she is, but Sam can’t admit how worried she is. Lois’s friends are busy, working corporate jobs or at Catco, and she’s pretty sure they won’t like the wailing of a baby. The pressure to move has her going everywhere with all her possessions in her backpack.

She takes on extra shifts at the library to try to earn enough for a studio finally. On the late night shifts, she locks up and falls asleep in the back room. She sneaks off in the morning to take a shower at the YWCA. She tells Lois’s friends she found a place after she returns to them in a fight. Nope-ing out of that, she’s had enough yelling from her mother.

That night she tries the local homeless shelter. Her bag is a bit too large for their lockers, so she takes out a book and a few knickknacks that Jack sent her. She puts those under her pillow. The cot digs into her back and side, and she can’t find a comfortable sleeping position.

One of the employees walks by and kicks someone’s arm that hung over the edge of the cot. Sam draws in on herself and huddles under her blanket after that. When she finally falls asleep, it’s a riddled with nightmares of herself running through a fog-strewn forest.

She wakes to her book and knickknacks gone. That was her favorite book! Signed by the author and everything! A gift from the Lane sisters on her last birthday. Devastated, she stalks off to the showers, only to freeze in horror at the open format of the women’s side. It’s like PE class all over again, and she feels too self-conscious. So that’s a big nope.

As she gets in line for breakfast, a few older men try to feel her stomach. Horrified, she darts away and goes to the lockers instead. That’s when she sights the mean employee that kicked people standing there staring at her. She takes her bag and leaves.

Sam heads to work, exhausted. When she falls asleep at her desk, the kind librarian taps her shoulder.

“Trouble sleeping?” When Sam nods, the woman smiles, sadly. “Always had trouble in my third trimester too. How about you go take a nap? I’ll cover you for an hour.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “No, no, I’m okay. Truly.” The librarian insists, and reluctantly, Sam heads to the back room. She curls up on the sofa and falls asleep. When she wakes, it’s hours later and a blanket covers her. Food sits on the table with a note that reads only: Take it easy today. Let me know if you need anything, okay?

Tears sting Sam’s eyes, and she tucks the note into her backpack. It’s her first real meal in days, and she eats it all. Exhaustion still coats her body, so she settles in the back room of the library and falls asleep there. Once again, no one bothers her, even if it’s probably illegal, but she’ll take what she can get.

Jack’s visit feels like the perfect time to shop for a place with someone she feels more comfortable with. Plus it’ll give her a chance to test out her budding driving skills. If she can get a car that is.

“You need a car?” Lois asks on one of their phone calls.

“Yup.” Sam doesn’t want to admit that the car plan is also her backup housing. Nor does she want to admit she’s been sleeping in random places for weeks now.

“Huh, I might have something for you. That old rickety Ford escort. Still drives fine. Plenty of space. Sitting in a garage back in Kansas. Want it?”

“Woah, okay, sure. How much?” Sam can’t believe her luck.

“Ten dollars.”

“What? That’s too little, Lois,” Sam protests falls on deaf ears. Lois refuses a higher price. Nor does she share how she’ll get it to National City.

Which is why Sam stands outside the library flabbergasted by the sight of Lois Lane leaning against the pale blue hatchback escort. She twirls the keys in her hands, while Superman stands at her side, his hands tugging at his cape as if nervous.

“Hey Lois… Superman…” Sam swallows and forces herself to walk forward, dumbstruck by why the hero of Metropolis waits with Lois for her of all people. Did he fly the car over?

“Figured you needed it sooner than later.” Lois tosses her the keys.

Sam catches them. Her gait is now more like a shuffle, and she feels way self-conscious with Superman right there.

“Supe, this is Sam Arias. Lucy’s math whiz friend.” Lois pulls her into a side hug and pats Sam’s back.

Sam extends her hand, and silently curses how it trembles like a leaf in the wind.

Superman’s handshake is warm and loose. Probably due to that superstrength, he has to carefully gauge any touch. “Pleasure to meet you, Sam. I hope this vehicle aids in your independence.” He smiles then. “I know life may seem bleak right now, but you are brave. Keep doing your best.”

Sam nods, still a bit starstruck. She hasn’t followed Superman’s rise in Metropolis too closely, but she doesn’t live under a rock that much. She’s seen bits of his adventures in the news.

Lois gestures to the car. “We got a box in the back for you. Mom and Dad heard of your plight, so don’t worry about baby clothes or anything. We got you covered for the first few months. Even packed a crib. You just worry about you and the kid’s health.” She prods Sam’s shoulder.

Tears stings Sam’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Lois smiles and waves away her thanks. “If your mother won’t step up, then we got you. Just know we’re a call a way. And if you are ever in danger, let me know. I’ll send this beefcake.” She slaps Superman’s arm, and he blushes.

Oh, interesting. Sam studies the two more closely. “I appreciate it.”

She can see now how close they stand, how Superman keeps reaching for her hand only to cross his arms over his chest or tug on his cape. The way his cheeks flush whenever Lois looks at him, and the way his gaze softens when he meets her gaze.

Lois is probably shagging the great hero, isn’t she? Honestly, at this point, Sam expects nothing less from the Lane sisters.

So now she has a car, baby supplies to last a few months, and a swiftly approaching due date. The pain has gotten worse, and the false contractions drive her up the wall. Having her license and a car isn’t as thrilling as she hoped.

But it does give her the freedom she desperately needs. She buys a sleeping bag, parks under the stars, and falls asleep with the back trunk open. It’s the first decent rest since the day the librarian let her sleep in the break room.

She slowly establishes a new routine over the next few weeks before Jack’s visit. She wonders if the night air helps her and the baby. The parenting books have very little to say about homeless, pregnant teens.

When Jack’s plane flies in, Sam shells over ten dollars to park her clunky car in a sooty parking garage. She tries to hide how big she looks with hoodies and her pregnancy pants. She hates the looks she gets at times, and the cruel whispers which she suspects folks want her to hear otherwise they wouldn’t be so loud about it. She knows she looks young, but she’s going to get through this. This baby is going to have the best life.

If she tells herself that enough, it’ll come true right? She has to believe that. Otherwise, she’ll break. She can’t afford to break. She tugs on the strings of her hoodie and wishes she was smaller. Her ridiculous height makes her stand out too much, which is good for Jack she supposes.

She pauses by the baggage claim and hopes she’s on time. Her phone refused to charge yesterday, so she has no idea if Jack texted. She’s going off her car’s clock, which may or may not be correct.

“Sam!” A deep voice calls from the escalator. She turns in relief to see Jack waving enthusiastically. He jogs forward and throws up his arms. “Come here, luv! Give your best friend a hug.”

Sam laughs and awkwardly hugs him, her stomach getting in the way. “Good to finally meet you in the flesh.” She steps back to take him in, and he’s way more handsome in person than the pictures do justice. “Grab your bag. I’m driving.” She tosses her keys into the air and catches them. “We’re riding in style.” She grins. “A 1994 Ford Hatchback Escort. Complete with boxes of baby stuff in the back.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but Jack gives her a concerned look. “You aren’t living out of that, are you?”

Sam looks down. Sure, maybe she lied about having a place to Lois. Maybe moved into the car as soon as they dropped it off. Sleeping at Sierra State Park works fine for her. So what if it’s not the best, it’s better than a shelter. She takes a breath and faces Jack, ready to argue her points.

“Luv, no.” Jack puts his hands on her shoulders and squeezes. “You can’t live out of a car. Not with the due date so close.”

“It’s temporary, and I own it. Besides, the other option is a shitty homeless shelter,” she mutters. “I almost earned enough for a downpayment on a studio. I just need another month.” She doesn’t want to admit how expensive homelessness is, how it eats up her checks, how it’s a struggle to buy enough food so she isn’t starving, then there’s the medical bills and now gas money. Honestly, she’s not entirely sure how to juggle it all.

Nope, that’s a problem for future Sam. Today she’s with Jack.

Jack slings his arm through hers and walks to the claim. “This won’t do. I know how fiercely independent you are. But please allow me this one chance to splurge on a friend!”

Sam eyes him cautiously. She’s had enough kind gestures, anymore feels like she’s tempting fate. If she’s going to build the best life for this kid, she can’t rely on random acts of charity. It’s too inconsistent. A kid needs stability.

The fear that she will fail at that simmers constantly in her mind, but she’s gotten used to the fear. That’s one thing homelessness is good for, numbing her to the endless fear that dogs each step she takes.

She clears her throat. “And what is this splurge?”

Jack only smiles, grabs his bag, and urges her to the car. Sam had plans for a cheap but tasty dinner and dropping her friend at the hotel while she hides in a park to sleep.

Jack derails that immediately.

“Sam, you’ve got to see this hotel. It’s like a miniature castle on the inside.”

Sam suspects it’s his way of making sure she doesn’t go sleep in her car. She huffs and agrees mostly to get him to stop talking it up.

It can’t be that good, right?

Holy shit is she wrong. When she drives up to the entrance — Jack refuses to let her park her own car, says she must use a ‘valet’ — a uniformed dude offers to park it. She stares at him for a long moment, until Jack turns off her car, plucks the key out, and hands it to the man.

“Hey!” Sam glares at Jack. “What if he steals it?”

“Luv, it’s his job to park your car and return your key safely.” He pats her cheek gently. “Their security here is top-notch.”

Sam blinks at him. She has no idea what top-notch means in this situation. “Is that true?” she asks the ‘valet’ who may or may not be a thief.

The valet looks her car over with disdain, which makes her bristle. This car is incredible! It has enough space for her to stretch if she puts all the seats down and moves the boxes to the side, plus it’s gas mileage is to die for. So what if’s a bit rusty and older than she is?

“Yes,” the judgey-valet sneers, “you are quite safe. No one will take any of this.”

Sam isn’t entirely convinced, especially with that sneer. What if he tries to throw it all in the trash? Maybe she should tackle him, grab the key back, and hightail it out of here.

Jack must guess what she’s thinking as he places a hand on her shoulder. “Sam,” he says, softly, “I promise you your stuff is safe here. No one will take it.” He turns to the valet, digs out his wallet, and shoves something into the man’s hands. “Guarantee nothing happens to this car or its contents please.”

The man stares down into his hand, looks at Jack, and nods. “Yes, sir.”

Sam is absolutely positive Jack just paid this man off. However, at this point, tackling the valet for her keys feels a bit rude. So fine. She decides to cautiously trust. Maybe she can come down to check on it later. Just to make sure. Her backpack stays with her though.

They’re led inside by another person in a fancy uniform. Sam skids to a stop a few feet inside.

Holy shit monkeys. The ceilings are not only vaulted like some sort of cathedral, but there’s chandeliers. Each with a billion candles, that might actually be light-bulbs, but who knows? Rich people do strange things.

The middle of the atrium has a massive waterfall that falls from some ridiculously high story, and it somehow doesn’t splash outside the confines of the circular fountain. Spotlights highlights parts of the water with different colors like some sort of torpid rainbow. The floor is so shiny she can see her reflection in the tiles, and the monochrome walls hold paintings that probably cost more than life itself.

“Jack…” Sam wants to bolt. This is not a place for her. She’s a homeless, pregnant teen, who regularly lies about her age, standing in some fancy-pants rich place, and oh god. People are staring at her. People in custom-fit suits and dresses, who walk as if they own the place.

She looks down at her black hoodie and pregnancy sweatpants. There’s a hole in her right sneaker. She showered yesterday, but hadn’t found a place today for that. Does she smell too?

“Sam, do you trust me?” Jack steps close to her, his hand on her lower back, and his mouth fairly close to her ear. He’s the same height as her, which is probably a first in her life. She’s used to being the stupidly tall one.

“Yeah?” she swallows and wishes the ground could swallow her up.

“Then walk with me to the elevator and ignore the pisshats. They don’t know quality even if it bit them in the face.”

Sam lets out a nervous giggle. She forces her feet to move, and gives in to Jack’s gentle guide across the atrium. He stops at the front desk to inquire about their keys. His bags had disappeared with the uniformed guy, but he doesn’t seem fazed. She has not let go of her backpack. No one is touching that.

She hopes for relief in the elevator, but even that has an employee. What sort of job pays someone to man an elevator? Do rich people not have the stamina or ability to push a button?

She can’t fathom this, so she stares at the walls, which are studded with gorgeous wood and teal tiles. There’s a painting of the sky on the roof. She can feel the nervous giggle sweeping through her body. Jack keeps his hand on her back and gently leads her into the suite, which is two doors down from the elevator.

This is the largest room she’s ever seen in her entire life. Like it could fit most of her mother’s home in it. The enormous bed takes up almost a whole wall. A mini bar curls around the wall on her right, and there’s even a living area with a TV that’s taller than she is. Does it have surround sound embedded in the walls and floor?

She knew Jack’s family had a lot of money, but she’s never seen that sort of life or come close to imagining it. The suite even has a balcony. She walks onto it and looks over the city, amazed at the gorgeous view of downtown and the seafront. “Shit,” she says and looks at Jack with a new understanding. “I — I —” Except she doesn’t know what to say.

This is him splurging? What the hell has she gotten herself into?

“Come now, don’t give me that look,” he pleads, “I may have a bit more money than I know what to do with, but I’m still your best buddy, right? It’s me, Jack. Just Jack, okay?”

Sam nods, numbly.

He pokes her shoulder. “Now sit. You look faint, my dear.”

Sam doesn’t protest. Her body aches and her stomach churns with nausea. Mostly she’s in a state of shock and confusion. She doesn’t know why she’s here. Why Jack bothers with her.

She slumps into a chair while Jack sends off a food order. He keeps trying to include her, but the growing pain and exhaustion has her mindlessly agreeing to whatever he suggests.

He kneels down in front of her and takes her hands in his. “Sam, look at me.”

Reluctantly, she does. He looks so earnest and sad that she wants to make a joke, but her brain is still caught up in how expensive this place is. How out of place she is.

“I know life has treated you badly. Please, let me give you the pampering you deserve for a few days, okay? I want to do this.” Him being serious makes him look incredibly handsome. She’ll give him that.

“Why?” The word comes out a bit harsher than she intended. She winces and clears her throat. “I — I mean, why bother? Jack, I have nothing to offer. I’m a homeless, pregnant teenager. You — you’re this rich kid that has everything going for him. Why are you here?” To her dismay, her voice breaks, and tears sting her eyes.

“Because you wrote me a letter in that silly penpal program, and it charmed me with its whimsical jokes and tales of National City. Then you wrote me back, despite me being a foolish git who didn’t know how to write a letter that isn’t rich-speak.” He rubs his thumbs over the back of her hand. “You made me mixtapes of songs you thought I’d like. You didn’t stop writing when the program was over. You’ve shared so much of yourself in those pages, Sam Arias, and wrote such beautifully supportive words of every silly thought I ever had. Honestly, how could anyone not love you? You are the most real friend I’ve ever had. So don’t you dare think badly of yourself.”

Sam’s vision blurs with tears. Love, at least in her short life, has always felt so fraught with demands. But she’s starting to see love that holds demands isn’t real love. It’s a sad echo of it.

Maybe that’s why she puts herself so fully into each friendship and connection she has. She wants others to feel the love she’s lacked. That’s really all she’s ever wanted, isn’t it? People to love her back, and it’s what Lucy gave her. What Lois has tried to give her in her own limited way. And what Jack, today, wants to give her.

Her sobs ripple through her frame, and it makes her body hurt.

Jack gently leads her to the bed and pulls her into his lap. He let’s her cry, while he holds her and rubs circles into her back. She presses her face against his probably expensive suit jacket. She can’t seem to stop the tears, and it horrifies her.

But she’s so, so tired.

She’s worked so damn hard, and she’s stupidly pregnant, and the due date is a week away, and she still doesn’t have a home, and she’s scared.

She’s so damn scared. There’s a baby inside her, she’s going to be a mother at sixteen years old, and she has no idea what she’s doing.

Her tears slow until she has none left. She lifts her head, even more embarrassed by her out of control emotions. Jack doesn’t deserve this.

Before she can speak, Jack holds up his finger. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’re allowed to feel, Sam. Don’t hold back.”

Sam makes a face and rubs at her likely red and tear-stained cheeks. Feel, right. She hasn’t had time for that. She looks around the room and its gaudy splendor, and thinks how she definitely could not get used to this. It’s just too much, but maybe she can allow Jack to splurge on her just this once.

Decision made, she turns and manages a small smile. “Getting all super-friendly already? Barely off the plane, British boy.”

Jack smiles, relief in his brown eyes. “I am the most prim and proper gent you’ll find. Hands to myself. See?” He incites her laughter with a ridiculous set of jazz hands.

Sam lets him lead her to the head of the bed, where he props her up with a ridiculous amount of pillows. The softness swallows her up, and for once, her body doesn’t hurt. Instead, she feels a peacefulness that she hasn’t felt since those super vivid dreams of her kid running in a field.

Maybe it’s okay to let people help sometimes, she decides. She’ll simply pay the kindness forward.

A knock on the door has Jack on his feet, and he opens to a crew of people pushing in an absolute feast. This is more food than the pizza parties her high school sometimes had. There’s half a dozen dishes — some appetizers, others entrées, and a few dessert options. Jack even remembers how she’s been craving brussel sprouts and asparagus of all things.

When the people leave, Jack gestures to the food. “You refused to help me pick, so I got a sampler.”

Sam smiles at her silly, rich friend. “It sounded like French to me.”

“Indeed, some of it is French,” Jack says with a nod.

Sam laughs and wipes her eyes. “Jack, thank you. Really, thank you. I — I don’t know if I believe what you said earlier, but I’ll try.”

He sits down by her feet and lays a hand on her leg. “That’s all I ask. Now anything you wish to try?”

Sam points to a few dishes, and he scoops a sample onto her plate with a few desserts on the side. The ginger ale she mentioned in a letter once as her second favorite — sprite being her first — he sets on the table next to her.

“Now, I hear you want to show me Star Wars?” He hits a remote and the TV comes to life. “Shall we start at the beginning?”

“In-universe chronological order,” Sam agrees. She nibbles on her food, and slowly lets herself relax.

When he settles next to her on the King size bed, she leans against his side. He wraps an arm around her as if they do this all the time. In way, maybe they had with their letters and gifts to each other?

Honestly, Sam never thought about the impact of what she wrote, how freely she gave of herself in those letters and gifts. She just enjoyed writing Jack. It’s humbling.

She puts the food aside, only half eaten, and leans her head on his shoulder. Exhaustion from the long, emotional day has taken its toll. A little after Qui-Gon Jinn rescues Anakin and takes him on as his apprentice, she falls asleep. She’s only vaguely aware of Jack tucking the blankets around her. Does she dream of the kiss he presses to her forehead? Maybe.

When Sam wakes in a contraction, she hisses as the pain bucks through her body. Jack startles awake.

“Oh luv, hospital or not?” He frets over her, while she curls on the bed in agony. She’s pretty sure her water broke. When another hits, she times her breathing and tries to just suffer through. Except they come far steadier than the false ones.

“Fuck,” Sam mutters. “Sorry Jack. Thought I had another week. No ambulance. Just take my keys.”

Jack frowns. “I can pay—”

“Shut it, Jack.” Sam points to her backpack. “We’re doing this my way, you hear? Afterward you can pamper me all you damn want.”

Jack nods and snags her backpack. He wraps an arm around her and helps her to the elevator. The hotel’s valet brings her car around, and Sam wants to laugh at how surreal it all is. This rich place with its fancy-pants services dropping off her rusty, old Ford that rumbles louder than a plane.

Sam’s positive Jack speeds all the way to the hospital, but she doesn’t complain. She grits her teeth and focuses on surviving. The emergency room team triages and rushes her and Jack back when the contractions get worse.

If someone told her how painful labor would be and how goddamn long it took, maybe she would have rethought her choices. But here she is, in the hospital, with Jack holding her hand and encouraging her. She wishes she could scream the heads off of everyone who dares tell her to breathe. She’s breathing dammit. Breathing and pushing with every muscle in her body.

When she hears the first cry of her baby, Sam slumps in exhaustion. The nurse holds a tiny human in her hands. She desperately wants to hold her child, so she waits impatiently through the doctor’s health check and clean up. When the nurse finally offers, she takes her child gingerly.

“It’s a girl,” her attending doctor says. Not that Sam really cares what gender, only that her baby is alive and that they survived this pregnancy together.

The kid looks up at her with round brown eyes and reaches for her with one tiny hand. There’s a small curl of light brown hair atop the child’s head.

“Hey there,” Sam whispers. She smiles and touches the extended hand with her index finger. The baby grasps it and makes an inquisitive gurgle. God, she’ll do anything for this kid. That truth settles deep into her bones.

“So precious.” Jack takes a picture and grins at her. “You choose a name yet?” He raises his eyebrow.

Sam pictures her name spreadsheet. The girl column has exactly fourteen names sorted by vibes mostly, but seeing this precious jewel? Her heart? “Ruby,” she decides. “Her name is Ruby Arias.”

Jack lays a hand on her arm and smiles. “Welcome to the world, Ruby.”

***

(Present Day)

Sam shoves her phone in her pocket and watches the traffic below. Ruby, the biggest decision of her life and one she's glad she made.

Thinking back on her teenage years, she wonders just how much of her dreams were about the wonder of Ruby and others eerie precursors to the worldkillers horror. Plus that damn crystal, one she had kept in her backpack and laptop bag until the worldkiller crisis. To think that silly thing was a catalyst to the most terrifying part of her entire life.

Ruby knocks on the balcony door. “Mom?”

“Yeah, babe?” Sam shoves the thoughts aside and turns with a practiced smile. She doesn’t want her daughter to worry about her state of mind. They have Rory/Lena to care for.

“Someone’s at the door.” Ruby looks nervously toward the penthouse’s entrance. “Are we expecting someone?”

“Yeah, Alex and Kara. Rory may be sick, and Alex is—”

“A doctor, I know.” Ruby smiles, relieved. “Alex is cool. Is it okay to tell her?”

Sam shakes her head. “No. We’re keeping this between us and Kara, okay? Use Lena’s name or avoid saying any name at all.” She places her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “We need Lena’s permission to share about her alters.”

Ruby nods. “And we don’t have that yet. Got it. I'll get the door." She salutes Sam and runs to the entrance foyer. Sam takes one last look at the view, takes a deep breath, and prepares herself for what is bound to be an exhausting visit.

#lena luthor #supergirl #Sam Arias #homelessness #poverty #kara danvers #Ruby Arias #Exploring trauma and healing from trauma #healing from trauma #chosen family #cw supergirl #supergirl cw #supercorp #supercorp is developed more in Kara's Tale

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