Chapter 8
Okay. This was definitely new. Kara didn’t actually remember the last time she had a girl come to her house. It had always been Winn on game nights, or James when she was feeling particularly lonely. And even when she did have a girl over, which must’ve been at some point (maybe Lucy a few years back, who knows,) it was never the experience that this night had been so far.
And the night was far from over.
Kara was as flustered as it gets, really.
No Kara, it wasn’t because she asked you to take her pants off. This is a totally normal reaction for anyone who has just witnessed their friend have a near death experience on their bathroom floor. I’m normal.
(Kara had never really been the persuasive or convincing type when it came to anyone or anything, including herself.)
Now here she was, alone in her house, aside from the girl that was sitting next to her on Kara’s couch. The girl whose pants that she had just removed but minutes ago. Not that she wanted to take off Lena’s pants. She just wanted the pot stickers. That definitely counted as an ultimatum. “Take off my pants or receive no food!” That’s legitimate!
(Cue the uncertainty.)
And it wasn’t even really like that, so why did Kara think there was more to it. Lena was obviously just tired, and wet jeans were admittedly a hassle to remove. Kara was simply the help. (Maybe in this moment, she wanted to be more than the help.)
But she supposed the moments after is what made the hassle worthwhile. Turns out, Lena indeed enjoyed The Flash, as well as pot stickers, as well as Kara’s couch, and took a particular liking to Bucky, Kara’s cat.
“I’m not at all jealous that Bucky is sitting on your lap instead of mine.” Kara smiled softly as she extended a hand to pet Bucky, who was more than content on Lena’s lap.
“Maybe he wouldn’t like me so much if someone in this household actually learned to keep him in at night instead of letting him manage to wander into the neighbor’s house.”
Kara’s mouth dropped in mock offense.
“We allow free will in this household. I don’t know about you, but my parents aren’t monsters.” Kara made the statement lightheartedly. It was a complete joke. And she knew that Lena realized that.
Which is why Kara realized something was wrong when the smirk fell from Lena’s face. When her eyes dropped their gaze to the floor and her hand that was propping her up to look at Kara fell back into her lap. She twisted her fingers.
It lasted only for a second before she shook her head lightly, attempting to clear the air.
But the air before Kara had turned to smoke. This was an indicator. A sign that screamed Kara, you have so much yet to learn.
Kara was young. She was awkward, she was shy, she was scared at times. She was confused, she was searching. But she was never sad. She was never in danger. She was far from danger, ever since she was adopted by the Danvers, she was given no reason to ever feel anything but safe. Maybe that’s it. Maybe Lena was upset because her biological parents had not been optimal. Kara believed that perhaps connecting over the fact that they were both adopted would help cheer her up.
(She was soon to find
she was so wrong.)
“Hey,” Kara gently reached out, intercepting Lena’s intertwined fingers, replacing them with her own, “you wanna talk about some good times?”
Evidently, Lena did a better job at repressing her emotions this time (Lena didn’t remember the last time something was a good time with her family,) because Kara continued.
Kara was a hopeless, incessant, babbler. She loved her family. She couldn’t think of any genuinely sad moments of her life with the Danvers.
In any other circumstance, this would be a good thing.
In this circumstance, less than a good thing.
Kara simply wouldn’t shut up. She gushed to Lena about Alex, mostly. Her sister, her top priority, her best friend, her protector, her everything that mattered most to her. (Little did she know that at one point, Lena had a someone who had everything that mattered most to her.) Kara fiddled with Lena’s fingers, taking in their shape. She squeezed each of them between her own forefinger and thumb, as if giving each individual finger reassurance (how was Kara not noticing that they held a slight tremor, one that grew steadily more violent as she went on.) She told Lena about the day Alex came out to her. She remembered how Alex fiddled with her hands, to the likes of what Lena was doing with her own hands earlier. Kara remembered the waiver in her sister’s voice, cracks that betrayed Alex’s superficial confidence. Kara remembered how scared Alex was; how her own sister thought that she wouldn’t be looked at the same, how she thought that she wouldn’t hold the same place in her family’s hearts as she did before. Kara laughed to herself. Why would Alex think that Kara would ever, ever, treat her without the love she deserved.
“Why would she think that I wouldn’t love her the same? What kind of family member does that to their family?” Kara grew silent with content, with sunny memories floating about her brain.
Until she heard a sniffle.
Her head snapped up quickly, only to find that Lena’s head had once again dropped (out of sadness? Or was it shame that Kara saw?)
Kara could not find Lena’s emerald eyes, but she saw the single tear roll down a smooth, flawless, cheek. It cut a path down her jawline, off her chin, and made it to it’s destination, gently splashing onto Kara’s outstretched hand.
Kara could almost feel the emotional weight that the tear held.
“Lena…” Kara attempted.
“I-I… not here, Kara. N-not now.” The plea sounded desperate. Kara had no choice but to oblige.
Kara was was never the best at knowing what to do next. But in this moment, her next course of action came to her as easily as the wind could stir leaves on a tree.
She gathered Lena in her arms, where the now sobbing girl laid her head on Kara’s shoulder. She could feel the tears soak through her shirt. She could feel the tremors coursing through Lena’s body. A body of someone who was so strong (what could have possibly broken her down like this?)
“I-I’m sorry.” It was a whisper, and even more so muffled by sniffles and Kara’s shoulder.
“Don’t ever be sorry for this, Lena.”
Kara didn’t let go.
When she felt the tremors stop, and Lena’s breathing even out, she felt something inside of her (whatever it was,
it only made Kara hold on to Lena tighter.)