Leadership and Compassion

When her faceplate slid open, Lena savored the relieved look on Kara’s face before it soured into annoyance. Still, she didn’t release her hold on Kara’s arms.

“Who hurt you?” there was more venom in her tone than she had expected, and she didn’t like the flinch it earned from the girl in her arms, so she turned her glower out to the pocket of soldiers who were meant to be fetching Kara.

They all tensed up considerably- anyone who had been watching the news during her takeover would. They knew what this suit was capable of.

One in particular looked more concerned for his immediate safety than the others, and Lena made to step forward, but Kara stopped her by placing her hands on her wrist.

“It’s fine.”

Her eyes were stalwartly trained on the ground, as if she expected Lena would be able to detect the guilty party if she looked up. Did the other Lena know Kara well enough to guess her secrets from mere eye contact? Her jaw clenched at the idea.

“I am running a city here, and I will punish insubordination as I see fit.” For some reason she didn’t pull away from Kara’s grasp.

Finally Kara’s eyes rose to meet hers again. In the steel blue she didn’t find a guilty party; instead she saw clearly that the repercussion of drawing blood from that man today would be losing her tenuous grip on Kara.

Unacceptable. Punishing him could be worried about later, he would probably flee over the borders within a few hours anyway. For now, Lena pulled Kara into her to prepare for the short flight back to the top of the tower.

A sharp hiss from the still-angry super had her adjusting to keep Kara to the side as they took off. Lena should have known The Kryptonite core on her suit would be painful if it came in contact with the Kryptonian, but she couldn’t think logically with her around.

Kara was quiet on the way home, although Lena did feel her shutter slightly when they entered the field that uninhibited Kara’s powers.

Back in her office, Kara was eager to step away from her hold, and Lena was hesitant to let her.

Kara watched with a disgruntled look while Lena’s suit slid off of her and returned to its compact form on her weapons belt.

Then, she broke the silence with quiet words, "What did you do to this city?"

Lena blinked. "Excuse me?" She had just dropped her important work business to play personal hero for Kara, and this was the thanks she got? Where did the demure girl she had just rescued disappear to?

"This—this isn’t National City," Kara spat. "It’s a machine. A prison with the illusion of order."

Lena tilted her head, watching her carefully. "It’s better than it was."

"Better?" Kara let out a hollow laugh. "People are terrified of your guards, Lena. No one even looks at each other anymore. This isn’t safety—it’s submission."

Lena’s eyes darkened, her expression cooling.

"I built something stable," she said, voice measured. "A place where people are protected. Where they don’t have to fear crime, or war, or destruction. That is what true leadership demands."

Kara shook her head. "Leadership isn’t about control, Lena. It’s about trust."

"Trust," Lena echoed, trying not to let her sheer disbelief at the girl’s words show through.

"Yes," Kara said, meeting her gaze. "People trusting each other. Not fearing you."

She granted Kara the satisfaction of a sigh, but made sure it was as condescending as possible.

"You’re upset," she observed. "But I can’t tell if it’s because of what you saw out there—" her gaze flicked over Kara, slow and searching—"or because I’m the one who built it."

Kara took a breath, trying to steady herself. "You want to do good, Lena. You’ve convinced yourself that you’re helping people, but all you’ve done is make them afraid of what happens if they step out of line."

Kara has such a natural fire about her. Lena was deeply used to snuffing just this type of spark out.

“I don’t think you are afraid enough of what happens when you step out of line.” All it took was a button-press from a device at her belt and Kara stilled.

"What did you do to me?"

To Kara’s credit, this time she hadn’t flinched when her powers were unexpectedly yanked from her.

"Insurance," she said, voice lilting. "You didn’t really think I’d just let you walk out of here, did you?"

Lena loved having the upper hand, and having it against Kara was more satisfying than usual. She would need to devote some thought into why that is.

"I thought you weren’t going to hurt me," Kara bit out.

Lena gave her a considerate look. "And I haven’t."

"You’re controlling me," Kara snapped.

Lena's lips twitched. "Well, I do have a reputation to uphold. Besides, you left the tower without a chaperone. I have to keep you in check somehow."

She turned away, walking toward the bar cart in the corner as if this conversation was nothing more than an idle amusement. She was desperate to make sure Kara knew she was in charge.

Lena poured herself a drink. “Sit,” she said without looking back.

Kara didn’t move.

Lena turned, glass in hand, eyebrow raised. “I could make you.”

Kara ground her teeth, but moved, stiffly lowering herself into one of the armchairs.

"See? So much easier when you listen," Lena said, taking a sip. She lowered the glass, fixing Kara with a piercing gaze. “Now. Why don’t we start again?”

Kara clenched her fists in her lap, trying to will back any of her power, but it was no use. Lena’s technology was made to ensure that, and her tech never failed.

"Let’s start with something simple. What’s your name?"

Kara exhaled sharply through her nose. "You already know my name."

Lena hummed. "Kara," she mused, swirling her drink. "Kara… what?"

Kara stayed silent.

“Fine then, you ask first.” The incentive made Kara perk up quickly. Positive reinforcement for her then.

She wilted back down a little with uncertainty before asking, “Does Superman exist here?”

Many options laid themselves out for Lena. Does she paint her family in a positive light to earn Kara’s trust?

No, eventually Kara would learn that Lena had hated them, and subsequently that she was lying. The truth would serve her best.

After all, trust is earned, and she wanted Kara’s.

“He did. He and Lex left a crater where Metropolis should be about 3 years ago.”

Lena doesn’t give Kara time for a follow up, "Where did you come from, Kara?"

Kara’s jaw tensed. "I told you—"

"Yes, yes, another world," Lena said breezily, waving a hand. "And despite this, you think you know me."

Something in her voice had sharpened.

Kara swallowed. "I—I told you. There’s a version of you in my world."

Lena reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Kara’s face. The touch was featherlight, too reverent for the hostility of the conversation.

Lena had already discovered that touches like this made Kara more receptive, and soft tones of voice could be employed in a similar manner on the girl.

Every interaction they shared was being cataloged carefully in Lena’s mind. Every action taken gives her more insight on Kara.

"You’re trying to fight me," Lena murmured, "but not giving it your all. Why?"

Kara exhaled sharply, turning her head away and breaking the connection, "Because you look like her."

Lena’s fingers tapped lightly against the glass in her other hand, expression unreadable. "And what is she to you?"

Kara hesitated.

Lena leaned in, "What is she to you, Kara?"

Really, Lena was feeding her own curiosity. There were more productive conversations to be had with a dimension hopper, but she couldn’t help herself.

It was strange, discipline was usually one of her highest virtues.

Kara licked her lips. "She’s my—" She cut herself off, voice thinning. "She’s my best friend."
A beat of silence. Then—

"Best friend," Lena repeated, She wasn’t deeply experienced in friendship, yet she knew there has to be more to it. "And yet, when you look at me, you say my name like that?"

This was something Lena felt like she needed to know, how did Kara manage to make her heart beat faster with just her given name?

Lena tilted her head, studying her. "You do it like it’s natural."

Kara shifted, looking away. "It—it is natural," she muttered. "I’ve said it a thousand times before."

"Not to me," Lena said softly.

She hadn’t been called Lena for three years before Kara appeared, throwing the name around her office without a care in the world.

Kara looked up, startled.

Lena spoke, thoughtful, “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Whatever connection you think we have, it isn’t real.”

She had assumed, at first, that her fascination was simple.

Kara was an anomaly. A disruption to the order Lena had spent years perfecting. Of course, she would be drawn to her—curiosity, possession, the simple fact that Kara seemed to want to obey her, whether she admitted it or not.

But this wasn’t simple.

This was something else entirely.

Lena’s mind moved quickly, dissecting, analyzing.

Kara’s breath hitched every time she let her guard down.

Her voice softened when she said Lena’s name, she said it so fondly.

Because Kara wasn’t seeing her.

She was seeing someone else.

Lena felt something sharp coil in her chest.

She didn’t like that.

Didn’t like the way Kara’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, something elsewhere.

Kara was here. With her.

And yet, she wasn’t.

She was thinking of another Lena.

One Lena had never met, never seen—one who had already had Kara’s devotion.

Lena felt her throat tighten.

She had spent her whole life clawing for power, for control, for something that could never be taken from her. Betrayed by everyone and, apparently, so desperate for connection that Kara calling her name made Lena feel like she held the stars in her hands.

Lena inhaled slowly, forcing down the sudden, violent surge of jealousy.

It was irrational.

It was beneath her.

But it burned, nonetheless.

Lena wanted Kara to see—to understand—that she was in Lena’s world now. That she had no one else to turn to.

That whatever version of Lena Kara had once known was gone, and now this Lena was here to fill that gap.

“It’s my turn,” Kara said awkwardly, snapping Lena back into the present, where she had to remember every bit of Kara’s stilted answers to her questions so she could spend tonight researching them.

“Without Kal-El–” her voice trembled as she spoke his name, “Why was there kryptonite prepared for my arrival?” Lena blinked at the implication.

She supposed it made sense that in a world where Superman and her brother hadn’t killed each other, Other-Lena wouldn’t have been caught up in the explosion.

“My mother grew tired of trying to weaken aliens in her experiments. She wanted to strengthen humans instead.” It occurred to Lena that she had never told this story. Everyone here just knew.

“She had no excuse for human experimentation, but after Lex lured me into the outskirts of Metropolis three years ago in an insipid attempt on my life, I fell into her lap.”

Kara’s brows furrowed, and her eyes skitted down to the crushed portion of the table from Lena’s outburst yesterday.

“When they caught her, she pleaded that she was a desperate mother trying to save her daughter; but I spent a year in and out of consciousness beneath her blade, listening to her ramblings. She would have allowed a daughter she loved the mercy of death.”

And now Lena was rambling, something about this girl made her behave so strangely. She stopped herself from continuing when she caught the sadness in Kara’s eyes. She looked as if Lena had physically hurt her.

It was wrong.

No one had ever looked at her like that.

At least, not in this world.

She had spent her life carving herself into something unbreakable, something untouchable. A weapon, a ruler, an empire unto herself.

People bowed before her. Feared her.

She didn’t want Kara’s fear, but she wanted it more than whatever this was.

Aggressively, she opened the panel of her shirt with one hand, and smoothly pulled the Lead panel blocking it further out of the way with the other.

Kara shriveled in on herself instantly. The Kryptonite power center of her suit had proven to be painful to the touch for a kryptonian, but the amount of power flowing through her open heart had already proven to affect Kara just by being in the same room with her.

“I am not your Lena. Don’t forget it. I am a ruler here, people bow to me. All that keeps you from crumbling to my feet like every other person on this Earth is a sheet of lead.”

Kara was breathless across from her, clearly fighting the pain of the sickly green glow that now filled the room. The fear Lena wanted was plain on her face.

Lena didn’t look away, even though a part of her wanted to.

“I have work to do, and you have pulled me away from it. You will stay in the tower through tomorrow, but I will grant you access to the computers to learn what you will about this world.”

She pulled her top closed again, and consciously eased up the weight of the kryptonite in the room. Without the lead panel, Kara could certainly still feel it, but it shouldn’t be painful. She stood from the couch and took a step toward the door.

Remembering the effectiveness of a positive reinforcement on Kara, she made an additional offer.

“Behave, and I will allow Supergirl access to the city unchaperoned.” Of course, Kara would be tailed, and her powers would be disabled beyond city limits.

The offer served its purpose wonderfully, although that defiant look was still present in her eyes. It said, I still think you are a good person beneath all that.

Lena just Tsked. Reading Kara’s mind through her eyes wasn’t as high of a bench-mark as she had thought it would be. Soon Other-Lena would have nothing on her.

"Try to get some sleep tonight," she said smoothly, letting the door close behind her.

Lena inhaled slowly, the same dark possessiveness from earlier curling in her chest.

Kara was clearly in love.

Just not with her.

But did it really matter?

Kara still looked at her like she wanted to believe in her.

And belief could be shaped.