blind without them

Voicemail. Again.

Lena hangs up the phone and sighs. The communication between her and Kara Danvers has slowly dissipated over the past couple of weeks. Usually, their conversations are a daily thing, whether it’s texting or phone calls.

It all changed, however, the night Supergirl rescued her from her fall off the balcony. Afterwards, the heroine had claimed her not-so-anonymous tip had come from Kara Danvers herself and Lena hadn’t been at all surprised. The two were close, it was obvious. They were constantly talking about each other and had made it quite clear that they were friends. Lena was just grateful that she was finally included into a circle of friends. Where people appreciate her for her. And not set her aside quickly because of her name. Kara and Supergirl treated her like a person, something that wasn’t a usual occurrence in Lena’s life.

But for some strange reason, well, not necessarily strange, this newfound friendship was turning into all the others. It was that they simply never last.

Lena is used to being brushed off. Casual excuses such as being too busy. Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Pretty soon you never talk. You never see each other. You stop thinking about each other. They stop thinking about her. Not Lena. She remembers all of them. The ‘friends’ she had once had, who, upon learning exactly where she came from, let her down. Like all the rest.

And it turns out Kara Danvers and her superhero sidekick are no different.

Joke’s on me, Lena thinks.

The rest of the morning passes in its regular manner: uneventful and busy. Lena attempts to filter through the numerous grant proposals on her desk but can’t seem to find it within herself to focus. As much as she wants to let go of the cold shoulder she’s getting from Kara, she can’t. Of all the people that have let her drop away, Kara Danvers is the last person she wants to allow to slip through her fingers. It couldn’t be on purpose. That’s not who she is. Kara is kind and thoughtful. She lights up a room when she enters, bringing happiness and optimism. She isn’t one to merely forget. She stands up for people. She stands up for me.

Lena stands, her mind set. If Kara won’t answer her calls, then she’ll just have to take care of this the old-fashioned way.

++++

CatCo is surprisingly quiet when Lena exits the elevator and makes her way to Kara’s office. Everyone is going about their business in a hushed quietness that is not characteristic of the media giant’s reputation. From afar, Lena can hear James Olsen talking to his assistant. He sounds frustrated. And tired.

Lena breathes in deeply, stepping back quickly to avoid a rushing junior editor speeding past with a stack of papers. No one notices that she’s there. No one seems to care.

She approaches the door to Kara’s office extremely hesitant. It’s not usually closed. Kara likes to leave it open as she hums through her reports and research. Lena, brows furrowed, knocks softly. There’s no answer. She knocks again, this time a little harder. No answer. Third time’s a charm. Even the Avon ladies are more persistent. Nothing.

Lena turns around to leave, shoving her hands deep in the pockets of her coat, and finds herself face-to-face with James.

“Lena! This is unexpected. What brings you to CatCo?”

“James. I came looking-“ Lena glances back at the closed door “-for Kara. She’s not answering.”

James nods slowly and looks down at his shoes before catching Lena’s gaze, “She uh…she, Kara, doesn’t work here anymore.”

Lena starts, “Excuse me?”

“Kara. She’s not here. She got-“ James scratches his head uncomfortably “-fired.”

“Fired.”

“Right. That blog article she posted…Snapper had a field day, he, uh, he let her go.”

Lena tries to process this information, but is unable to grasp at what James is saying, “But that was two weeks ago. She wrote that article two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, Miss Luthor-“

“Lena.”

“Lena, I’m sorry. I haven’t really heard from her lately. She’s with that Mike guy and busy with…stuff,” James catches himself.

“And who is Mike? Mike of the interns?” Lena questions, whispering the last sentence. She can’t believe it. Mike of the interns? That Mike? The Mike Kara hadn’t wanted at the gala? The Mike that she never even talks about. That Mike?

“Yeah, he’s…they’re…dating now,” James sounds about as disgusted as Lena and they both stand in awkward silence.

Lena breaks it, taking hold of the strap of her purse, “Ok…Ok. Well. Thank you, James. I’ll, I’ll just try her at home then.”

James smiles and Lena can see the underlying sadness. She sighs and returns the smile.

++++

The windows of Kara’s apartment are dark, the curtains pulled shut, as Lena stands outside of the building, looking up. It’s still worth a shot, she thinks, adjusting the bags full of food she’s brought along with her.

Lena may not have known Kara for very long, but what she does know is that Kara loved her job. She loved giving the public the facts, the truth. That she had been fired and then stopped talking to everyone is not a good sign.

Once again, there’s no answer when Lena knocks. She can make out, however, a dim glow escaping from underneath the door. Lena knocks louder, determined not to give up. Still nothing.

“Kara!” Lena leans her head towards the crack of the door, impatiently waiting for an answer. There is none. She tries again, “Kara. Kara, darling, are you home?”

The question came out more affectionate than Lena had planned. Yes, they had gotten lunch together multiple times over the past couple of months and told each other stories of their past that many others did not know, but still. Lena cringes at this and squeezes her eyes shut, suddenly hoping that Kara isn’t home and hadn’t heard the mistake.

But she had.

A muffled voice calls out, “It’s open.”

Lena slowly opens the door into the dark apartment, lit only by a small lamp near the couch. She deposits the food onto the kitchen counter, taking in the piles of take-out boxes and unwashed dishes. The living room is in the same state, covered in empty containers and piles of blankets.

“Kara?” Lena calls out. She maneuvers her way through the apartment, side-stepping piles of mess.

There’s the shuffling of sheets coming from the bedroom and Lena turns at the sound.

“L-Lena?” her name comes out as a sob and Lena quickly moves towards the bed where a broken Kara Danvers lies. Still in semi-darkness, Lena comes to the edge of the bed, kneeling down next to Kara, who reaches out and wraps her arms around Lena. They stay like this for a few minutes, Kara shaking as the tears begin to flow, the sobs wracking her body as she struggles to find air to breathe. Lena gently rubs her back in reassurance, resting her head on Kara’s.

After a moment, Lena finally asks, “Kara, where’s Mike?”

“I don’t know,” the response is quiet and pained before the tears come back, this time even harder.

Lena’s heart breaks as she holds her. Her fingers continue to make small circles on Kara’s back, working their way into Kara’s hair, twirling the golden locks in into loose curls.

“I thought I could just be one. I thought I didn’t need both. That he would be enough, “Kara hiccups her way through her words, still clutching at Lena. “And that, that I wouldn’t need Kara. But I AM Kara. I am. That’s me, I can’t…” Kara starts speaking faster, repeating the phrase until Lena pulls back from the hug.

“Kara, Kara, breathe. Of course you’re you. You’re Kara and that’s more than enough,” Lena takes Kara’s face in her hands. She wipes the tears and strands of hair from her cheeks. “You’re my hero, remember? No job, no person, can ever change that. ”

Lena leans in a little closer, resting her forehead against Kara’s, “And, frankly, Snapper’s a dick.”

Kara laughs at this, her hand reaching up to wipe her nose.

In the semi-darkness, Lena can make out the distress in Kara’s eyes, the sadness that she’d seen earlier in James’s. As her own eyes adjust to the lighting she sees a little more, realizing that Kara isn’t wearing her glasses. Lena sits back as the pieces fall into place in her mind.

Kara rubs her eyes, “I just never thought I’d have to give up being Kara…”

But as she says this, Lena figures it out. The uncanny resemblance, the close ‘friendship’, the adamancy of being Kara…

Lena interrupts with a whisper, “But you’re not Kara.”

Kara stops, “…what?”

Lena looks over to the nightstand, where the glasses sit, then back to the girl in front of her.

“You’re Supergirl.”

And for an instant that’s who Lena sees.
Not an unemployed Kara.
But Supergirl. Covered in blankets.
And every bit the hero Lena knows her to be.