i'll crawl home to her.

Alex comes home early, two weeks into her final semester, Kara into her second. Kara, up in her old room to get a view of the driveway, hears Alex before she sees her. Her brakes screech, so loudly that Kara winces.

She rushes down faster than Eliza had taught her to, rapid alien steps that turn to leaps downstairs because she knows Alex won't meet her halfway this time.

Alex gets to the second step of the porch before Kara is there, catching her, feeling Alex shake deep to her bones, wrought inside out.

“Please,” Alex says, and Kara doesn’t want her to finish. Doesn’t want “tell me you’re lying” to tumble from Alex’s lips, because Kara won’t lie, can’t lie to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says instead, it's blunt and full of sentiments she can't achieve. But it's enough to get Alex back onto her feet for Kara to carry her inside.

Eliza says nothing when Kara carries Alex all the way up the stairs to Alex’s room, doesn’t mention an abuse of power or how Kara should try harder to keep it hidden when she hovers in the slightest to make sure Alex can lay down without too harsh of a landing.

Alex curls into herself, reaches for Kara’s hand and holds tight enough to bruise human flesh. Kara squeezes, just a little, to let Alex know she’s there, that she’s not going anywhere.

That she would shoot into space to bring Alex the stars, if it meant she could forget for a little while.

//

The service is three days after Alex and Kara come home, Kara dresses in all black because that's what was expected, except made sure to wear a gold belt - it was Jeremiah’s favourite, Kara’s eyes heat up when the memory of his voice fills her ears, of Jeremiah holding Kara and Alex close to him, calling them his ‘golden girls’ before kissing their temples.

Alex keeps her head hung, hair in her face. Kara holds her hand the whole time, lets Alex hang onto her as tightly as she wants, as tightly as she needs.

Eliza wears sunglasses indoors, and she doesn’t try to make jokes on the way home (she doesn’t say anything, if Kara is honest).

As far as the Danvers and outward influences had taught Kara, it's the best a funeral could have gone.

//

Later, at the wake, Clark asks Eliza why there was no body in the coffin.

Eliza tells Clark the body wasn't found, and Kara thinks maybe that sounds something like hope.

Alex lets her know much later on, when they’re on their third tub of ice cream, that it sounds like fool’s gold.

(Kara doesn’t ask what that phrase means, jots it down for a time when it won’t make Alex cry.)

Lex doesn’t visit as much after he graduates. In all honesty, Lena hadn’t expected any less; Lex is far too brilliant to be stuck in the nostalgia of their college, too enthralled by his ideas to stay in one place.

His face is hidden by a bouquet of flowers when Lena opens her door, and she can barely make out the top of his shining head before he shoves them in her face, laughing when she sneezes and helping himself to the fridge.

“It's a very special day, Lena,” he tells her, pulls out a carton of eggs and a stick of butter. “I have great news, possibly the greatest since that time Father dyed his beard.”

Lena eyes off the ingredients, plucks a whisk from a drawer nearby and bumps Lex to the side with her hip.

“It must be good if you’re about to bomb a batch of pancakes.”

He laughs low in his throat, jumps onto the stool across the bench from her, leans his head in his hands.

“In my defense, they may have been good if you let me try.”

“No chance I’m letting you ruin another frying pan,” she dusts flour off her fingers when she places the packet on the bench, lines up the sieve and the eggs. “What’s this news anyway?”

He bounces in his seat, hands gripping at air as he smiles. Lena thinks that if Lex still had hair, it might stick up with the static he’s producing.

“I was given my research grant.”

Lena cracks the first egg into her hand.

Alex isn’t Alex after Jeremiah.

She’s distant, intentionally keeping herself at arm’s length from everyone who isn’t Kara (sometimes even Kara). She goes out, doesn’t come back until after dawn or until Kara tracks her down by her heartbeat - Kara doesn’t ask what she’s been drinking, just knows that the way Alex holds her pinky means she can’t tell Eliza.

//

She gets into a fight, a big one. One that Kara can hear but doesn’t know Alex is involved in until her cell is ringing - Alex calls her from a payphone with a tight throat and Kara flies there without a second thought.

She traces Alex’s heartbeat, finds her tucked between a dumpster and a small tower of bread crates. She shakes, flinches away from Kara until her eyes focus on her, soften.

She cries, holds onto Kara and stains her shirt, her fingernails leave blood streaks and Kara questions her until Alex promises that it's not her blood.

She sees it then, when she looks down at Alex, with her ponytail behind her neck - she sees the bruises. Light, beige ones on her neck and collarbone, purple thumbprints on her biceps, red-raw circles around her wrists.

Kara feels her bottom lip wobble, scoops Alex into her arms and bounds into the air.

They’re halfway home before Alex sniffs, tired out, mumbles an apology into Kara’s shoulder.

“Please tell me this is it,” Kara shakes her head, clears her throat. “Please tell me that you’re done.”

Alex nods against her, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just,” she sighs, feels it crack in her ribs as her eyes well up. “Just be Alex again, please? It’s not - we’re not the same without you.”

Kara slows down as they reach Alex’s window, Alex climbing in first, not letting go of Kara’s hand the whole time.

“It hasn’t been the same since Dad.”

“I know,” Kara nods, sets her jaw. “But you going off the rails isn’t going to bring him back, and leaving us isn’t going to make anyone happier.”

Alex lies on her bed with a thump , looks up at her roof. Kara walks across to switch the lights off, give Alex the stars.

“I thought it would take my mind off it,” Alex starts, breathes in shakily. “I thought if maybe I was numb then it would all go away. But Mom still makes me breakfast when I’m hungover, and you - you don’t stop trying and you’re so good . Why are you still so good? How can you be? You could crumble the Earth between your hands and you don’t .”

Kara shrugs, feels Alex tug so she lies beside her, runs her thumb along her knuckles.

“I’m not good, I’m just,” she struggles for the word, bites the inside of her cheek. “I can’t let anyone else down.”

Kara is nearly asleep before she hears Alex, soft and low and whispered into the dead of night,

“You couldn’t ever let me down.”

Patterns always had come easily to Lena, even before being groomed as a Luthor. There’s a certain wonder to how things tick, the way in which they do so, how each piece of the puzzle falls in line to create something tangible.

It starts small, a root in the dirt of the earth. Lex closes off, for hours at a time, to work on his research. He’ll read texts but not reply, ignore calls, ultimately, he’ll just turn off his phone in favour of the next breakthrough.

Romanticising patterns is the easiest way for Lena to convince herself that Lex will be okay.

Lena wants to be proud of him, tries so hard to believe there’s some good in what he’s doing.

But the way that Lex talks of aliens, with an elated but elitist lilt in his voice - talks of looking them over, of taking blood, of testing their limits.

It turns in Lena’s stomach, the idea of him strapping an alien to a chair (of strapping Clark or Kara ) and taking their blood, of imprisoning them in a room of their weakness to test their abilities, of the fact that maybe she could have stopped this, whatever this is, if she’d only noticed the pattern earlier.

Lena finds out from the gossip mill that Lex barely talks to Clark anymore, rumours circulating of a fight, of a girl coming between them - Lena hears it all but never from Clark or Lex.

//

The root turns to a trunk when Lena finds Lex fixating on Superman, drives across town to his research facility, barges past security with mentions of her name.

She finds Lex leaning over newspapers, accounts from the Daily Planet of Superman’s physiology, his powers, and Lena feels dread pool in her blood like lead.

Lena tries to understand him - she loves her brother so much that she aches with the thought of losing him to his own mind - tries to understand why this is such a raging fire for Lex.

“Don't you see, Lena?” He nearly screams it. Behind him, a corkboard wall of photos, articles, eyewitness accounts of aliens other than Superman. “They’re everywhere . Earth is crawling with them, and - if they’re all as powerful as Superman, then what? We’re toast, Earth as we know it will be enslaved to them.”

She breathes, deep and tired and takes a few steps towards him.

“If Superman, or even the other aliens, if they wanted to hurt us, wouldn’t they have by now?”

“That’s just it,” he blinks at her, like she’s missing the point. “They want our trust first. Who’s to say there isn’t a Super girl out there? That she isn’t waiting in the wings, ready to team up with her family and take over?”

“Lex, please,”

“No,” Lex holds a hand up, silences her. He stands, stretches and cricks his neck. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what I know, Lena. I’ve talked to Mother, you know, she told me that my ideas are brilliant, that I’m brilliant.”

Lena wants to step forward, wants to grab Lex by the shoulders and shake him until he sees sense, but she flinches away when he barely moves.

“Lex,”

“You used to think that. Do you remember? You thought the world of me.” He takes a long breath, stands from behind his desk, walks around to perch on the edge of it, turns his head to Lena. “You even helped me theorise, you were the one who assured me of their powers - that I wasn’t crazy to think of it. It was only a year ago, Lena. In that time, I have nearly enough research to go corporate with this, to create my designs to their full potential. And you, you’re stagnant.”

She feels a spark in her chest, surging her forward until she stand a foot away from her brother.

“I am not stagnant.”

“But you are. Look at you,” he chuckles, the warm laugh of Lex Luthor that Lena had known morphing into something else. Something ugly, something deranged . “You come here, nostalgic for something you’ll never divulge, and you try to tell me my ideas have no merit. Even if that’s not your intention, that’s what’s happening. You don’t move forward, not without me at least - and now that we’re seemingly headed in different directions, well, you don’t have a fucking clue, do you?”

Lena feels her neck flush, shame and white-hot anger blooming through her spine. She feels it with the force of the sun, solar flares shooting throughout her body until she swears she sees red.

“You’re right, Lex, I thought the world of you.” She looks down, clenches her fists until her nails bite into her palms, when she registers the pain, she looks back up. “But you are not who you were. You have changed, Lex, into something I can’t even begin to describe. Finish your research, buy your way into owning a company with Father’s inheritance, hunt down innocent aliens until they rage war against you. Fine , do it.”

Lex nods, “I plan to.”

Lena’s throat bobs, swallows the thick lump of something like betrayal, something like disappointment.

“Just,” she sighs, readies herself to turn on her heel. “Don’t come to me when this all goes to shit, and you have nothing left but your prejudices.”

With that, she walks, away from Lex’s laughter, from the humming of his machinery.

Lena walks out of the building, floored with wondering how she could have missed her brother when he was in the same room.

[18:43 from: Kal] Lay low

[18:44 to: Kal] Literally what I’ve been taught to do

[18:44 to: Kal] But why?

[18:45 from: Kal] I need you to be safe

[18:45 from: Kal] Something big is going to happen soon, and I can’t have you there

[18:46 to: Kal] Are you okay?

[18:47 from: Kal] I am right now

[18:47 from: Kal] But don’t come looking for me

[18:48 from: Kal] And especially don't try to be a hero

Lex calls Lena, when she’s perched at her dining table, extension cord running by her feet into the kitchen to charge her laptop as she works. Surrounded by windows, Lena finds an easing pressure in her chest, a kind of reassurance that if Lex were to attack (the aliens or her ), that it would all be in plain sight.

But Lex isn’t stupid, and Lena should have known better.

Her phone rings, an unknown number and it makes the pressure lifts, turns to a weight that drops to her gut, tendrils of guilt and fear wrapping around it and dragging it into her.

“Hello, Lex.”

“Lena,” Lex’s voice is rougher now, the past year and a half ripping the softness from him. “I wanted to thank you in person, but this will have to do.”

“Thank me?” She uncrosses her legs, calves tensing as she readies herself to stand. She does, and with unsteady feet, makes her way to the window that takes up the majority of the wall, the one that overlooks the city. “For what?”

“I visited Mother at the estate today - she’d felt lonesome with Father away for so many weeks, you see.” She hears ruffling, Lex clearing his throat and the distant clack of her mother’s heels. “We were reminiscing, and she brought out childhood keepsakes. Remember the test tube we managed to burn a hole through? She left it where it was, Mother kept our rooms the exact way we left them. Isn’t that sweet of her?”

She holds her breath, “What did you find, Lex?”

“I found what you’d never tell,” there’s a crisp sound, something like opened paper. And then it hits Lena, a tonne of bricks collapsing in the column of her throat. “I can’t believe Mother took these from you. It’s no wonder you were sad about your friend, you couldn’t write back without a return address, could you?”

Lena’s legs wobble, and she wants so easily to give in, to collapse, to let the city see the vulnerability grip at her like vines. But she stays put, levels her chin and sets her jaw. Even if Lex can’t see her, she can see her reflection. It’s enough, to fake strong until she looks it.

“Don’t you even think of hurting her.”

“It’s a good idea, but no,” Lex laughs under his breath and Lena lets out a breath, free hand balling into a fist. “I won’t touch your little girlfriend, not for a while. My main focus is Superman, and, funnily enough, tiny awkward Kara Danvers has led me right to him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a smart girl, Lena, I know you would have figured it out by now. But it's fine, you want to protect them - I get it. I’ve watched Kara for a while now, had my people keep an eye on her. She’s a terrible liar, just like her cousin, but she doesn’t want to play superheroes. So she’s safe, for now.”

Lena purses her lips, begins pacing. “She wouldn’t have helped you.”

“You’re right. But, her letters are very interesting, she seemed to like you very much - maybe even love you, isn’t that precious.” She hears him opening a letter, can practically see his smile over the phone and she bites her tongue so hard she tastes copper. “You’re her Kryptonite, Lena. Did you read that one? Or did Mother manage to put an end to this before you knew? How silly of me, you probably don’t even know what Kryptonite is.”

She doesn’t correct him, swallows her pride to keep Kara safe.

“Enlighten me.”

“I’m sure you know about her planet, otherwise she wouldn’t be telling you half the things she did. Very honest, this child.” She hums, Lex rumples the paper, teases Lena with the fact he knows as much (if not more) about Kara, about Krypton. “Kryptonite is a mineral found on that dead planet of theirs, it’s what kept them powerless. Kara says her planet imploded, which would explain how my company managed to come across some of its debris while out of Earth’s atmosphere. You see, Lena, on Earth, Kryptonite not only leaves Kara powerless, it makes her weaker . It’s cute, really, that you made an alien feel weak.”

Lena aches, deep in her bones. Aches for Kara, for her to be able to tell Lena in brash, teenage honesty, scribbled in the dark with a blooming heart.

She aches for herself, to not know until now, to have this letter ripped from her, to leave her bitter and cynical and yearning for someone who has probably forgotten all about her. Kara is in danger because Lena had let her love her, know her, had turned a blind eye when her mother said Kara’s letters were lost in the move.

It washes over Lena, fresh and rumbling waves to drown in all over again.

“You said she’d be safe.”

“She will be, so long as she doesn’t interrupt her cousin and I.”

“Superman is the Man of Steel,” Lena says it defiantly, hopes the anxiety doesn't creep into her voice. “And you, Lex, you are nothing more than a brat with a god complex.”

Lex barks a laugh, and Lena hears him scrunch the letter in his fist, flinches.

“Look out for me, sister, I’ll be on the news real soon.”

The line goes dead, and Lena tries to calm her boiling blood, the inferno that rages in her chest. She brings a hand to her face, drags it down the length of her skin, nails scratching at the juncture of her jaw and neck.

Fuck it.

She screams - a harsh, furious scream. It tears through her, her muscles pounding and she pitches her phone, hears it dent the pillar beside the archway leading to the lounge, the crunch of glass shattering.

She knows she has to clean it up, dip into her inheritance for a new one. Right now though, she is too weak, too tired and sour and angry to even think of it.

She finally lets her knees give out, shaking legs dropping to the floor and she folds in on herself. Her nails bite at the skin of her forearms, forehead leant on them as her legs bend at the knees. She jerks her jaw shut, feels her eyes well up and she’s done being strong, done wearing a mask, done being a Luthor.

Her teeth letting go of her bottom lip, she thinks of her sixteen year old self, of how she came to know a fragile girl that turned to be of stone and steel, of how she could float above clouds with arms wrapped around her, of how she could be so stupid to let it go.

Lena cries for the things she could have had, for what Lex could have been, what Kara will be without her.

Lena cries for Clark, a man(?) who will be murdered by her brother for trying to help, a man with a cousin who bears the weight of a dead world on her shoulders. Lena cries for them, because they are the last of their kind, and how are they to pass it on if they’re killed?

Lena cries because if Clark is murdered and Kara keeps herself a secret, Krypton dies with herself and the Danvers, Krypton dies with Lex ripping it to corrupted pieces.

Kal hasn’t texted her for nearly two weeks, and Kara’s gut turns inside out with worry.

Kal has always told her to hide in the shadows, to blend with humans. Not because he wouldn’t love to have his little (big?) cousin be beside him in his heroics, but because he wants her safe, because he knows the dangers of exposing loved ones to the secret of Krypton.

But this is different, he had warned her to not be a hero. Not to keep quiet, not to hide away, but to not expose herself.

Somehow it's different, like he's not just protecting civilians anymore.

//

She finds out when Alex calls her cell, loud and piercing and it interrupts Kara’s studying for the year’s last set of tests. She grips her nose between her thumb and forefinger, swipes across the screen to answer.

“Alex-”

“Kara, go downstairs. Now.”

“What?” She stands from her desk, walks towards the door.

“It's Clark,” Alex says it rushed, scared, a whisper. “He’s being attacked.”

Kara starts to speed up, stomach churning, trying to find reason, logic. “He gets attacked every week.”

“Not like this, Kara, he,” she hears Alex take a breath, hears her heart speed up as she speaks. “Its Lex. He has Kryptonite, Kara, he’s using it on Clark. It’s not looking good.”

Kara runs then, so fast she’s a blur to the girls on her floor. She slows to reach the common room, opens the door and readies herself to steal the remote off someone, but all the girls are gathered around, perched on couches and armchairs, some on the floor.

They’re all watching the news, eyes rapt on the report.

She stays in the doorway, sees Kal on the ground, Lex Luthor meters away, the Kryptonite green and glowing sickly in his hands.

“I need to help him.”

“Kara, no.” Alex’s voice is hard, and Kara knows she’s right, that Kal had told her to lay low and not play heroes. But this is her cousin, this is the only tie to Krypton she has left, she can’t just let it slip away. “I know, okay, I know you want to help. But you can’t, Kara. You’ll end up just the same as Clark, maybe even worse, if you get anywhere near Lex right now.”

She edges towards the back of the common room, into the kitchenette, leans against the fridge with narrowed eyes still on the TV.

“I can’t just sit here and watch him die, either, Alex.”

“You’re not going to.” Kara grits her teeth, nods even though Alex can’t see. “Look, Dad, he - he worked for some people. Before he died, there were people who protected or arrested aliens. He worked for them, Clark had helped them before. Dad helped Clark a couple of times, and so did his friend Hank.”

“What the hell is Hank able to do that Kal can’t?”

“Hank won’t feel the effects of Kryptonite, and the other agents won't either. They can get Lex, Kara, you just need to give them time.”

She feels her eyes heat up, her throat tight. She swallows, tries not to grip her phone too hard.

“How can I be sure they’ll even get there in time?”

“Just watch, Kara, please. Don’t go out there.” Alex is softer now, and Kara feels some of the tension ebb away. “I can come and get you if you need, you can watch it at my place.”

“Don’t be silly,” Kara breathes once, twice, trains her ears onto the report. Kal has stood back up, but he’s not getting very far. “National City is too far from here, by the time you get me it could be over. I could -”

“It's too risky to fly.” Alex finishes for her, and Kara nods again. “I can stay on the phone the whole time, or you can text me or skype me while you watch.”

Kara sees Kal, sees him struggle to get into the air, watches with a grimace as gravity throws him back down into the pavement. He’s human, now, maybe not even that - weaker, more Clark than Kal and Kara seethes at the thought of it, of Lex betraying him like this for some twisted ideology.

“Skype is fine, I’ll stream it from my dorm.”

“Okay, don’t break anything along the way.”

She sees Kal land a punch to Lex’s jaw, it doesn’t send him reeling but it looks like it hurts.

Good.

Lex is caught, swarmed by agents in all black with guns bigger than dinner plates and Lena lets out a sigh of relief when Superman’s cousin is nowhere to be seen in Metropolis.

There are articles and reports everywhere about Lex within hours, and Lena knows after reading the very first one that Luthor is going to be a name for the ages, for all the reasons she never wanted it to be.

Her mother protests Lex’s innocence, claims Superman’s power extends to manipulation and that one day he will corrupt the Earth to its very core. In some articles, Lex is branded a hero, though those are greatly outweighed by those who see him for what Lena knows in the deepest pits of her heart and soul: Lex Luthor is an evil, maniacal madman, hellbent on the experimentation and execution of aliens.

It pains her, to some degree, to think that she may have been able to stop this, to deter Lex. Maybe if she had never humoured him years ago, if she had told him that aliens were of stories and the human prayer to not be alone in the universe.

But it's too late, Lex’s trial will be in a week, and Lena is to provide witness, evidence, and testimony.

Her mother had already emailed her a list of things she is to say, from an encrypted file; she is to tell the court that Lex is no monster, that he had fallen prey to the fascination of aliens, only to have found out their true intentions with their Earth.

Lena loved her brother with all her heart, to testify for him should be easy.

But she thinks of Clark, of his skewed glasses and waved hair and eyes that are so much like Kara’s that she can barely look at him, and she thinks maybe it isn’t that easy at all.

[23:12 from: Clark Kent] Thank you for letting me do that alone

[23:17 sent to: Clark Kent] You’re welcome

[23:17 sent to: Clark Kent] But if it ever happens again you can bet I’m grabbing the nearest towel to wear as a cape and saving your butt

[23:18 from: Clark Kent] I would love nothing less

[23:19 sent to: Clark Kent] Are you going to the trial?

[23:20 from: Clark Kent] I have to

[23:20 from: Clark Kent] I’m reporting on it. It's my first solo article

[23:21 sent to: Clark Kent] That’s so cool!!! <3 :D :D

[23:21 sent to: Clark Kent] Tell me how it goes. Firsthand, no articles

[23:22 from: Clark Kent] I will. Promise

[23:22 from: Clark Kent] Want me to telling you what Lena’s wearing too? ;)

Read 23:23

Kara Danvers is typing…

Kara Danvers has gone offline.

Lena wakes to the sound of knocking against her bedroom balcony, three fervent but controlled taps and she rolls over to rub at her eyes. Fumbling for the switch, she turns on the lamp, hits her elbow on the bedside table and hisses before her eyes adjust.

Clark is hovering, a metre or so from the railing, and Lena realises he must have knocked and flown backwards - an attempt to make this just the slightest bit less creepy.

She threads her fingers through her ponytail, yawns as she pulls it up to redo it. Her eyes are wet with sleep and she nearly stumbles through the glass door before opening it, slowly walking out.

The cool night air bites at her calves, and she shivers. She looks at Clark, levels her chin, and he nods at her in lieu of a greeting.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he says, waits for her to turn on her heel, an invitation for him to fly closer. “Lex, he - I’m sorry, Lena.”

She keeps her back to him, knows if she turns she’s going to see his lips curl the same as Kara’s, the dent in his forehead and the crease in his nose the exact same and she - she can’t. Not now.

“You’re sorry?” She grits her teeth, crosses her arms. “For what, Clark? For being my brother’s friend while he drove himself crazy over your alter ego? For writing an article on him, me - my family? For turning us all into monsters when Lex had lost his mind?”

“Lena, I,” she sees his reflection, watches him shake his head. “You need to understand.”

“I need to understand,” she repeats, turns to him this time, stares at his boots, doesn’t let her eyes stray. “I don't think so. You need to understand, Clark. Lex is my brother , he was the only family I had when I left, he taught me and joked with me. Do you know what it's like to try and unlearn that? To look at the man you admired and deny yourself that? To betray your own mother - a woman who took you in when she didn't need to, who could have let you rot in a foster home - to look her in the eye as you sit behind that microphone and do exactly as she told you not to?”

She chances a look at Clark, turns and catches a glimpse of him looking like he’s been slapped. He brings his lips together, slumps his shoulders and it's odd - a hero to look defeated, a hero to look human even as he stands beyond the reaches of gravity.

“I don’t know what that’s like,” he admits, floats close enough to rest his hands on the railing. She’s facing him now, and they just stare at each other, trying to decipher everything that goes unsaid, the lines that must be read between. “But Lex was my friend, and he… I couldn’t stop this. You couldn’t stop this. But you need to know, that this isn’t my fault, this isn’t your fault.”

She feels the press of her fingers on her biceps, lets the air sting as she presses her nails further. Breathing, she sees Clark’s cape float behind him, imagines it on Kara - if she had gotten here first, if she became justice incarnate. She wouldn’t have known Kara, the warmth of her skin or the radiance of her smile, wonders if she would have cared if Lex succeeded in this alternate world, if she would feel sympathy for the woman struck down by the man who took her under his wing.

It stirs like tar in her stomach, tastes bitter in her mouth. She shakes her head, furrows her brow to ask Clark,

“How is it not my fault?” She paces, three steps before continuing. “I’m the one who dropped the alien ball, I’m the one whose letters he found. If Kara had kept away from me, if I’d have just told him to drop it, to shut up and move on-”

“Lena,” Clark reaches out across the railing, gently tugs her to face him. He’s as warm as Kara, as strong and firm as her, but it’s different. “Lex would have done this, no matter the actions of you, Kara, or myself. It was always going to happen, no matter who the aliens were. His desires are self serving, we were both foolish to trust him for as long as we did.”

“He’s my brother , Clark.”

And she knows how childish it sounds, how dumb it sounds. But Lena had worshipped this remarkable man, had watched him grow from intelligent to genius, had thought of him as innovative and passionate and idolised him for it.

Lex was there to tease her about her crushes, to help her with her homework, to show her around campus. She had clipped his hair for him when he got self-conscious about the very real possibility early balding, had scribbled inventions on his whiteboard with him whenever their minds went too fast to talk, had cooked for him and played board games when they were both to melancholy to speak.

Lex was her brother, her family. He filled the void for Lena, crept between the gaps of her ribs in a way only Kara had.

And maybe Clark can’t understand that, maybe he won’t, but it’s all Lena has to say.

Clark stays behind the railing but lets go of her arm, apologises if he hurt her and resigns himself to stay behind the metal - a caged animal, powerful but restrained.

“Do you really believe what Lex said about me?”

She wants to say no, feels the waver in Clark’s voice like maybe he believes it himself sometimes. But the fierce loyalty to Lex that she wishes would go away rears its head, the years of what it means to be a Luthor fogging her mind as she lowers her chin.

“I don't know.”

Clark sighs, in a way that makes Lena think he understands this loyalty, this cross to bear, a legacy that shouldn’t go on but must.

“Would you believe it if he had said it about Kara?”

Her jaw clenches, lips pursed.

“You two are not the same.”

“What’s so different?”

She doesn’t know where to begin. Clark is hard in all the places that Kara is soft, Kara’s eyes blaze with the fire in her heart and Clark’s are steeled, Kara reminds her of the sun - always giving, shining, a comfort on her world - where Clark is boiled and pent up with something she cannot explain.

It runs too deep, her answer wouldn’t help Clark understand.

“She’s not like you,” is all she can say.

“Right, because I use my powers. Because I hurt your brother. He came after me first, Lena, don’t forget that.” He backs up, folds his arms and squares his shoulders. “He deserved everything that happened.”

Lena nearly launches herself off the balcony, molten rage burning her blood, runs through her until she is a pendulum of indignance.

“You know what, Clark? Fuck you.” She spits, feels her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. “I know he deserves everything that he’s got coming, but you - you do not get to stand there and act as if I don’t. You don’t get to play hero when I know he fucked you over as much as anyone else, you don’t get to fly over to my balcony and fake sympathy when you just want to make sure someone feels as betrayed as you do.”

“Lena, I-”

“No, Clark, you don’t get to do this. And you certainly don’t get to bring up Kara, not when I know damn well you don’t know a thing of what happened.” The railing is ice cold underneath her fingers, knuckles turning white with how hard she clenches. “She was everything I had when I was younger, and you ripped her away - you did that, because you made her feel like she couldn’t control herself around humans. You tore an innocent and pure girl from everything she had learned here, and you made her feel guilty for who she was. I don’t care if your intentions were noble, you hurt her - and no matter how much the Danvers love her and she loves the Danvers, you didn’t even let her try to love herself.”

Clark’s face sinks then, a solemn fold between his brows. Maybe he hadn’t known that this was what he’d done, maybe he’d lived in righteous bliss until it blinded him, but heaven and hell be damned if Lena isn’t going to make sure he’s glaringly aware of it now.

“You may be Superman, Clark, but you are no man to me,” she shakes her head, bites her lip. “You are a naive boy, who cannot see the grey between black and white. I admire you for your service to us as a hero, but you’re going to need more than powers to be super. You have to realise you’re not immune to human whims and fancies, Clark, Lord knows you’ve been here long enough to fall privy. Lex is villainous, evil, yes - but don’t come to my balcony in the dead of night and say he couldn’t have been saved. His insanity could have been stopped, and we failed him.”

Clark gapes at her, mouth opening and closing, his toes moving inside of his right boot as he searches for something to say.

“You still love your brother,” he starts, and they nod at each other. “I still love Lex, too. But I won’t pretend this wasn’t inevitable. I keep thinking - what if it was Kara? What if he took his crosshairs off me and put them on her instead? I was scared, Lena. That’s why I took her away, because she needed to learn how to protect people, in case something happened to me and I couldn’t anymore. She’s not ready to be a hero, not yet. But maybe someday.”

“She is not your prodigy.” She holds tighter to the balcony, back flexing. “Spin it any way you want, but Kara deserves to make her own choices, be her own person.”

“She has always made the right ones before.”

Lena tastes copper, settling in the muscle of her cheek. She lets go of the railing, turns her nose up as she stalks towards her bedroom.

“I think you should go,” she’s had enough, her eyes droop despite the adrenaline. “Now.”

She hears Clark’s cape whip in the wind, pushes loose hairs from her eyes.

Clark looks at her through his reflection and Lena glares back, he hovers back a few inches, sighing.

“She misses you, you know.” He says, and Lena feels her heart stop in her chest. “Like, a lot.”

He flies away, a blur in the moonlight, and Lena slams the balcony door shut behind her.

Kara still has her graduation gown on, Alex having stolen her cap as soon as they were in the car together, and it itches, the blue silk sticking at her collar and tickling at her ankles as she sits. But Alex had insisted there was no time to change, that they needed to celebrate, even if that meant having to hitch a ride back home with Eliza first.

Every time Alex turns to face her, she’s posing, lips puckered as eyes narrowed until the tassel swings to hit her in the nose. Kara laughs each time because Alex is still caught by surprise, and it bubbles up in Kara, affection swelling for her sister.

“So,” Alex turns the cap this time, leaving the tassel to dangle at her spine. “What do you want to do?”

Kara shrugs, not having really celebrating anything before. Sure, birthdays and Thanksgiving but this is different, she knows that. Its human custom to do something big after you graduate, something daring and so very adult that Kara doesn't even know where to begin.

“I’m happy to do whatever you wanna do.”

Alex smiles at her, feline and dangerous before she makes sure Eliza is pretending not to pay attention to them.

“I’m gonna take you out on my bike,” Alex thinks aloud, taps her chin. “What if we drove out, like, way out? I could take you somewhere that you could fly without, you know, being worried.”

Eliza looks at them through the rear view mirror, and Kara blanches under her gaze.

“I don’t know,” she says, but it’s not convincing, she knows Alex can see the excitement in her eyes and Eliza can see the way she’s almost vibrating under her seatbelt.

“Awesome,” Alex claps her hands, rubs them together. “Knew that spare helmet was a good investment.”

//

Alex drives recklessly, and Kara isn’t sure if that’s because Alex loves the thrill of being close to thrown to the ground, or if she simply wouldn’t care if she got hurt anymore. Kara’s arms are wound tight around her sister, face pressed into the space between Alex’s shoulders.

Alex teases her later, because “Kara you fly at least three times faster than my bike can go, why are you scared?”

Kara doesn’t have the heart to tell her it’s because there’s nothing in the sky to fear, that crash landings are somehow always worse than the actual falling.

//

Alex takes Kara to a stretch of land, apparently once an airport, abandoned after criminal activity. Kara doesn’t ask what kind of activity, doesn’t even bother to ask how Alex knows because she tells Kara it all with a shrug and childlike grin.

Kara hands her helmet to Alex, gently and slowly. Alex reminds her that Kara can throw things now, to be more confident, but Kara is going to fly for the first time in four years and she’s not sure how to even begin to explain the nerves as they eat away at her.

Alex hangs the helmets on a handlebar each, takes Kara by the hand and starts walking.

“We can see the sky first, from human perspective.” She says, and Kara lets out a breath, squeezing Alex’s hand. “You can tell me all about the nitty gritty of college.”

Kara rolls her eyes, “You heard all about it the whole time I was there.”

“True, but it was always updates and classes and missing me,” she says that last part with a wink, sits on the ground and Kara follows, bumps their shoulders together. “Like I said, nitty gritty.”

Kara wrinkles her nose, “Like, dirty?”

Alex throws her hands up. “Whoa, um, I meant the figurative nitty gritty. Sorry.”

“Oh,” Kara nods, blushes. “Sorry. So, like, gossip, scandal, that sort of thing?”

“I can give you an example if you want?” She asks, Kara dips her head to smile gratefully. “Okay, so, hmm. Oh, okay, got one. In my third year, there was this party - huge, Kara, two sororities held a joint pre-break party, it was wild . Anyway, there’s this nerdy guy, right? Glasses, pastel button ups, the works.”

“Hey!” Kara pushes Alex, whose brows come together before she sees Kara’s outfit.

“No offense,” she stifles a laugh. “So everyone sees him and the two most popular guys on the football team decide to get him drunk, and I mean hammered . Poor guy doesn’t know left from right for the first hour that he’s drinking, he’s that bad. Turns out, their plan to humiliate this guy backfired, because he hooked up with both their girlfriends, as well as two other girls from the party. Nerd boy had more game for a night than the whole football team.”

Kara laughs, leans back.

Alex prods her, waits for her laughs to die down before saying something.

“Honestly, I don’t have anything that good.”

“Aw, come on,” Alex lays down beside her, arms folded behind her head. “Surely there’s something. ”

Kara shakes her head, cranes her neck to face Alex.

“Really, nothing beats hot nerd boy.”

Alex hums, “I suppose it is a pretty hard story to top.”

“Although, I did hear rumours about the chemistry project this year that had the whole class grow facial hair.”

Alex faces her then, eyes wide. “Even the bald teacher you complained about?”

“Better,” Kara giggles. “He ended up with a mullet.”

Alex laughs so hard her body convulses, and even if Kara never found out the truth to that rumour, it's totally worth it to see Alex like this, innocent and young and painted by moonlight.

//

Kara drags Alex up with her when she flies, slowly at first to remember her bearings, but as soon as Alex sees the confidence back in her eyes, in her movements, she begs for them to go faster.

“Eliza would kill us.”

Alex holds tighter, grins as Kara starts to speed up anyway.

“Mom is gonna kill us no matter what, might as well make it worth it.”

Kara laughs, strong and hearty as she propels her and Alex through the air as fast as she’ll allow herself.

She checks on Alex every few minutes, but Alex tells Kara that lightheadedness is normal and to not be such a worry-wart, and Kara doesn’t know what that means, just that she wants to prove Alex wrong.

So they fly, until Kara’s muscles ache, until she can taste frost between her teeth from smiling so wide, until the adrenaline wears off and Alex yawns before pressing herself into Kara’s shoulder.

Kara takes them back to the motorcycle, and Alex stops for ice cream on the way home.

Kara spends the night the way she used to, in Alex’s childhood bed, the two of them wrapped up in the covers, wearing Jeremiah’s old shirts with flannel pants, Alex taking Kara’s glasses off as she begins to doze.

Kara whispers goodnight to Alex, and Alex says it back in Kryptonese, and Kara thinks she feels the sun in her chest before it's even risen.

Lena’s heels click on the harsh tiles of the Daily Planet, her calves burning from the three flights of stairs. People bustle all around her, nudge her, some apologise but most don't - they recognise her and she levels them with a cool stare before they decide for themselves if she’s intimidating or terrifying.

She makes it to the fourth floor, makes out the hard stature of Clark Kent, trapped between his desk and two friends.

Lois Lane, she recognises immediately, long tousled hair and allure all enraptured by the bumbling persona in front of her. It's sweet, nostalgic in a way Lena shoves to the back of her mind.

The other man she’s seen before, with his camera and lovely grin, but she cannot remember his name. Opts for Joel, George, Jimmy. Something.

She strides towards Clark, stops before him and bows her head.

“Mr Kent,” she says, and he nods at her, eyes wide. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I may have a word?”

Lois bristles, stands a little taller, but Clark’s hand is on her wrist in seconds, and they share a look that both Lena and the friend can only try to decipher.

“It’s okay,” Clark says it gently, and she eases. “She’s Lena, not Lex.”

Lena turns from him then, walks away and Clark follows.

He catches up with her quickly, hand on her elbow and he guides her down the series of hallways throughout the Daily Planet, and Lena feels the tension of his hand ease, remind himself he’s human, and it's so very Kara that it hits her before she can even try to suppress it.

Clark takes her to a room in shambles, somewhere on the fifth floor, there are nail guns and power saws and Lena thinks maybe he intends to throw her out the window that’s yet to be replaced.

“It’s having renovations done,” his hand rubs at the back of his neck, taking a step back. “Superman went through it last week, and the crew is on lunch break right now.”

“Ah,” Lena nods, scans the room for people. Just in case.

“You wanted a word?”

“I did,” Lena nods, brings her handbag closer to her body. “I wanted to apologise.”

Clark breathes out, long and low. “Oh.”

“You see,” Lena folds her arms, guards herself and looks down. “I loved my brother, Clark, loved him more than anything this world had to offer, adored him with the power of the elements. But, he hurt you. And, if you didn’t stop him, he would have hurt more innocent refugees.”

She makes sure to say refugees instead of aliens, instead of Kara.

“I’m sorry, too.” Clark nods, sets his mouth to a thin line, uncrosses his arms to let them hang loose at his side. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

Lena feels her eyes well up, and Clark is there in a second. His arms are strong and secure around her, and there’s a part of him that smells like the sun and earth, like Kara, and she lets herself break.

She sobs into him, and he holds her the way her parents or brother never had, the way she needs to be, yearns to be. Like she is weak, like she’s allowed to be weak - strong for too long and in need of a reverie.

She leans back, Clark’s hands on her shoulders now. She sniffs, laughs under her breath and he does too, because Lena can see the redness in his eyes, know he hurts too.

“I’m going to redefine what it means to be a Luthor,” she says, clenches her jaw to believe herself as much as Clark does. “Funnily enough, when Lex got his research grant, he left the company to me. Guess he forgot to change it.”

Clark’s smile is lopsided. “You mean you own Luthor Corp now?”

“L-Corp, yeah. I’m going to rebrand it, shape it into what it should have been. I’ve already burned and deleted all the plans of anti-alien weaponry that I could find,” she wipes at her eyes. “I owe aliens that much. I know there’s more to be done, but it’s a start.”

Clark curls a finger, taps it under her chin.

“You owe yourself that much.” His hand drops from her shoulder, and he wipes some hair from his face. “I meant what I said, back there. You are not your brother, and, as you pointed out, I am not Kara.”

“No,” she stutters out a laugh. “You are definitely not.”

Clark softens, around the edges and in his face, and it's then that Lena can see more similarities between them than ever.

“Maybe you should try and see her,” he shrugs. “Maybe just talk to her. I know she’d love to hear from you, even if it’s only a text.”

Lena shakes her head, tries to put distance between her and Clark but it doesn’t work because there’s a pull, an otherworldly force that drags her within distance of Kryptonians until her mind wants to walk away but her body can’t.

“Not yet, not when things are the way they are.” She clears her throat, stands taller, more convincing. “When things are better, when Luthors are better. Then, maybe.”

Clark grins, all sunshine and bared teeth, and he pulls her in until they’re side by side, walking back to his desk.

“I’ll make sure to be the first to report on it, Little Luthor.”

Lena eases into his side, arm linked with his, and for the first time in years, the name doesn’t sting.

Kara slumps onto Alex’s couch, head thrown back as she groans.

“Please tell me you didn’t fly here,” is Alex’s greeting, rounding the corner of her kitchen island, cardboard containers in hand.

“And please tell me that those are the potstickers I asked you to order.”

Alex laughs under her breath, taps Kara’s calf with her knee so she’ll make room for her to sit. She hands Kara her container, two more on the island waiting, as she sits, props her knees up for a makeshift table.

“I take it the interview for CatCo didn’t go well, then?”

Kara grimaces around a bite, puffed cheek turning red and Alex suppresses the urge to giggle.

“Yes, well, no. Ugh, it's complicated?”

Alex mutes the TV, turns her head as she pokes her chopsticks into her noodles.

“Go on.”

“Well, like,” Kara’s voice is muffled, she swallows before she continues. “I bombed out on being Miss Grant’s assistant. But, she seemed to think I had a “sense of justice inept for secretary work” . So, I’m working for her, but not under her.”

“Wait, what?”

Kara smiles, dazzling with teeth covered in sticky sauce and this time Alex does laugh, followed by Kara, who bows.

“You’re now looking at probationary reporter, Kara Danvers.”

Alex jumps to her feet, still on the couch, noodles spilling to the crease of the pillows beneath them. “Holy shit!”

“Right?”

“Kara, this is so,” Alex catches herself, puts her container on the coffee table (making sure Kara does the same), before pouncing onto her sister's, arms around her neck. “This is so amazing, I’m so proud of you. Oh my god, have you told Mom? When’s your first assignment?”

Kara pats her on the back, reclines back to answer.

“No, I wanted to tell you first, but we can ring Eliza after dinner if you want.” She leans over, plucks a potsticker from her container before continuing. “And my first solo assignment won't be for months yet, but I want it to have something to do with aliens.”

Alex rolls her eyes, “Risky.”

“Gotta follow your passion,” she shrugs, and Alex hugs her again.

//

They ring Eliza, and she screams so loud that Alex worries the speaker feature on her phone is broken for three weeks afterwards.

Tooth and nail, Lena Luthor had fought to rise her family’s company from the ashes. And, for the most part, she had achieved it. Despite initial doubts, Lena was able to fire those who wore her brother’s ideals as armour, had kept on and hired kind souls with the strive to better alien protection.

She terminates all plans for weapons, destroys prototypes and the weapons themselves. She makes sure to let the company’s actions speak for itself and its new direction in this time, refuses interviews she knows she cannot handle yet.

Clark emails her six months into the rebranding, asks if it's okay if someone else does her first interview, because his boss has him swept up in a cold case for the time being. She agrees, so long as it's someone he trusts.

//

Lena works at her desk, coffee long forgotten and cold beside her laptop. The beginning of day peeks through the balcony’s windows, and Lena gets up from her chair to find the remote for the shutters.

The leather sticks to the backs of her knees as she stands, dismissing the nerves as no more than first interview jitters. Finding the remote, she presses the button, watches as the sunlight pours in, coats the room in a warm glow that light bulbs cannot match.

It is still early morning, the sky a canvas of reds and purples and oranges, and it calms Lena, centers her.

Just as she places the remote back in its holder, there’s a knock at her door, her secretary popping her head inside.

“Miss Luthor, your nine o’clock is here.”

“Thank you, Jess,” she nods, turns her head, “send them in.”

The pad of the reporter’s feet are soft, cautious. Lena can’t blame them, she’d be surprised if someone wasn’t weary of her upon first glance by now.

“Thank you for you time, Miss Luthor.”

Her voice is warm, like honey and sunrise, and Lena smiles for a moment to let it wash over her. This person does not hate her, there is nothing but curiosity and unanswered questions in her tone.

“It’s no trouble. And please, call me Lena,” she pivots, sees the woman’s hand to shake and takes it. “Miss…”

Her hand is strong, runs hot and pulsing and Lena looks up.

Eyes as blue as the sky, as deep as the ocean, stare right at her, through her, and Lena’s mind is a blank slate as she feels the walls around her close in.

“Danvers,” she smiles at Lena, wide and bright and knowing . And Lena wishes the ground would open up beneath her, prays for the earth to swallow her whole. “Kara Danvers.”