Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“The important thing is right now --- the present moment. Our present inner resolve, our determination, enables us to sever the bonds of karmic causality by the strength arising from within and enter the sure path of happiness.

-SGI

Kara had given exceptional thought to how she might die—at least, when she was stuck in her pod after the destruction of Krypton—but even then, she wouldn’t have imagined the life she was thrown into now. She wouldn’t die now, that she knew without doubt. However, the creature in front of her didn’t know that.

She stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked back at her pleasantly.

She was pretending to be human, scared. But she was doing it for someone she loved, and even if she had lied to get here, that had to count for something.

She knew that if she had never ended up in Forks, she wouldn’t be facing this monster now. But, even as the threat of heat vision burned behind her eyes, trying to claw its way up the surface in a desperate attempt to protect those she loves, she couldn’t bring herself to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it’s not reasonable to grieve when it’s threatened. Instead, you fight back.

The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill Kara.

Chapter Text

“We bereaved are not alone. We belong to the largest company in all the world – the company of those who have known suffering.”

-Helen Keller

Kara’s head lolled against the car window, tracking each raindrop that slid down the transparent surface. It signaled both the end and the beginning, another chapter of her life to unfold—to change. If there was one thing Kara had learned about herself in the recent years since crashing on Earth, it was that she absolutely, without a doubt, hates change. Yet, she now found herself in Eliza’s car heading under the thick canopy of trees, the rain of the Olympia area a near constant as she listened to the pelting sound of raindrops hitting metal.

Just barely getting accustomed to her new life on Earth, a planet so alien to her in nature, Kara had found herself hurtling into another unknown of this strange world. Kara had deigned not to voice these things to her adoptive mother upon the announcement of their departure from the sunny skies of National City, California. Eliza and Alex—even herself included, though she hadn’t known him long—had lost Jeremiah Danvers. And if there was one thing that Kara understood, it was the grief-stricken emotions of those lost beyond the world of the living.

Kara still mourned her own people, her culture, her planet, her only living relative having grown up without her. And now, the knowledge that while on Earth, she would outlive everyone she ever knew, everyone she had come to love. She wanted to doubt the findings from the Kryptonian Fortress, wanted to settle into the abyss of denial and ignorance, but she knew the technology was sound, knew that Kal wouldn’t lie about such matters of the heart.

Jeremiah was gone, and Alex was squirreled away in piles of textbooks as she attended medical school; Kara could sympathize with Eliza’s need for a change of scenery. This is why she found herself sitting in the passenger seat as Eliza drove them into a small town named Forks in Washington state. Which, in Kara’s opinion, was seriously missing some much-needed sunlight. It was clouded, and the road fogged as Eliza maneuvered the car to a small, beige, two-story home.

There was a police cruiser parked on the curb, and a garish, rusted-red pickup truck was already stowed away on the right side of the driveway. Kara clutched the small potted cactus in her hands—the symbolism of the gift from Kennny being entirely lost on her, though she kept it as a reminder of their home in National City. She was agonizingly mindful of her grip, working hard not to shatter the clay pot as Eliza parked the car. Eliza reached over, reassuringly squeezing Kara’s thigh as she gazed at her childhood home.

Kara heard the telltale sign of a limping gait before she saw the man; presumably the owner of the police cruiser, exit the house, judging by the uniform he wore. Eliza must have noticed the tense nature of Kara’s rigid shoulders, reaching out to brush a stray strand of golden hair out of her face.

“You’ll do just great, sweetheart. Everyone is gonna love you.” Kara nodded deliberately, prying one hand from her cactus to undo her rather unnecessary seatbelt as Eliza exited the car to greet the graying man. Kara herself exited the car, taking to Eliza’s side as the man approached, a hearty smile pulling at the wrinkles around his eyes.

“Dr. Danvers! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he bellowed cheerily, surprising even Kara as he picked Eliza up into a bear hug, doing a flourishing spin before setting down an awe-struck Eliza Danvers.

“Chief Swan!” Eliza laughed loudly, a rare sound these days. “It’s a pleasure to be back in town. How’s Bella?” Kara watched the interaction with curiosity, hearing the way Chief Swan’s heart stuttered slightly behind his ribcage.

“Same ole, same ole, Eliza. She’s off in Alaska right now, her and the Cullens.” He shifted from foot to foot, twisting one end of his mustache, a multicolored bushy shape of brown, gray, and white. “Not sure when they’ll be back—a damn shame if I do say so myself. I was hoping for you to meet my grandbaby. But enough about that! Who’s this little lady?”

Kara smiled awkwardly as Eliza placed another reassuring hand on her shoulder. “This here is Kara.”

He tipped his head slightly, his cheery face replaced by a much more solemn look, one that appeared to mesh perfectly with the lines of his face, as if it were his default expression.

“I heard about what happened to your family a couple of years ago. My condolences.” Kara tried to smile, but it came out too forced. Her teeth grinded together as she was caught out of her depth, wading the waters of the lies they told people about her own past. Her parents didn’t die in house fire, her planet exploded. There weren’t enough condolences in the world.

“Thank you, Chief Swan.” He waved into the air, confusing Kara with the odd and human gestures.

“Just call me Charlie.” He then dug into his pocket, Kara wincing slightly at the high-pitched sound of jingling keys reaching her over sensitive ears. “Here’s that house key for ya; some of the ladies and I made sure it was in good condition for your move over.”

“Thank you, Charlie, that’s very kind of you.”

He nodded his thanks before pointing over to the large truck with its rounded fenders and bulbous cab. “That brings me to my last thing; this here used to be my daughter’s truck, thought I’d pass it along—”

“Chief Swan, one-eighty-seven, East Docks.” Charlie frowned, his eyebrows drawing together as he reached for his radio.

“Ten-four, Swan, ten-seventy-six.” Charlie shook his head, an apologetic air about him as he tipped his head once more. “That’ll be my leave. You girls just give me a shout if you need anything.”

“Thanks again, Charlie,” Eliza called after his retreating form, waiting until his cruiser pulled away from the curb before turning back to Kara. “Do you wanna start unpacking now or later?”

She gave a meek smile. “Now is fine.”

Kara unloaded most of the boxes, her super strength and speed making quick work of their belongings. Eventually, she took the heaviest box—her box—up to her new bedroom. Hers was on the east side, a wide window giving her the view of the backyard and the trees beyond. She carefully set the box onto her new bed, looking around the room.

The walls were a soft gray, and the floor was dark wood. The window was adorned with flowy blue curtains, and the room was barren of almost anything except the queen bed, a dresser off to the side, and a small desk across from the dresser.

The room was smaller than the one she shared with Alex back in National City, but then again, she no longer had to share. Kara set the cactus down, mulling over their new home. Longing for her home, her planet, the sister she had come to love.

Everything was different here. It had a dark and gloomy feel, and the absence of direct sunlight, the very essence of her super-powered alien biology, made her feel a loss she hadn’t expected. At the same time, its cold nature reminded Kara painfully of Krypton.

She had to remind herself not to dwell, to remember that this was just a new beginning. Her world wasn’t going to implode again. She set herself to unpack, already dreading the ordeal of high school in the morning.

***

Kara wasn’t by any means the best driver. In fact, if she wasn’t literally invulnerable, she was sure Eliza wouldn’t let her drive to begin with. Forks High School had a frighteningly small population compared to what she was used to, and it was much quieter than Kara usually experienced. Kara was already a freak of nature, a literal alien from a dead planet light years away, and she would be the new girl in the middle of the year. Great.

It was a cacophony of heartbeats, shifting organs, and blood rushing, the chatter among the student population barely audible over the assaulting sounds of human life. Kara found a parking spot, gripping the steering wheel with enough force to leave indents in the leather. She tried to calm her breathing, trying to recall all the times Eliza or Alex had talked her through an anxiety attack. Slowly, her senses fell to the foreground, still there, but more bearably.  

Kara could do this. Sure, she was an alien, but she learned that humans held fast to stereotypes. She was blonde and tall, and if you paid enough attention to look past the baggier clothes, she was rippling with powerful muscles. She was what everyone imagined in the sunny escape of National City, at least, on the surface. She’d never fit in, too intelligent that it made her “weird,” too uncoordinated that it neared unbearable clumsiness— in reality, it was an uphill battle every single day to remain in control of her powers-- which averted her focus. She didn’t understand the things humans said or why they acted the way they did. English was still hard for Kara, idioms and the like flying higher above her head than she herself could fly. Kara could touch the stars, but she was just as inconsequential to the world because of it. She was an outsider, a nobody. It’s part of why she hated the nuances of high school so much. She longed for the structure of Kryptonian guilds.

She hadn’t realized when she’d cut the truck’s engine, just that it was quieter in her head, not bouncing around her skull with feverish intent. She was parked outside one of the smaller school buildings, a slight sign indicating it was the office. There were few cars in this parking lot, presumably staff parking.

With little resolve, Kara stepped out of the warmth of the cab, meandering towards the office doors, walking along the small stone path lined with green hedges.

The room was brightly lit, an assault on Kara’s eyes, to say the least. It was a small room, a waiting area off to the side with cushioned chairs; orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices, and awards clung onto the minor wall space, and a large clock ticked incessantly on the wall. Plants crowded the free spaces despite the mass of greenery just outside the walls.

Kara turned her attention to the long counter that seemed to divide the room. It was cluttered with wire baskets filled with papers and brightly colored flyers of all sorts. There were three smaller desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a graying red-haired woman with wire-rim glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt with a strange design, causing Kara to briefly look down at her own deep blue sweater that housed a light-colored button-up underneath. She felt suddenly overdressed, entirely confused by the nature of the woman’s clothing choices.

“Can I help you?” the voice reverberated painfully around her skull.

“I’m Kara Danvers.” Her voice lilted at the end of her quiet introduction, the answer sounding more like a question even to herself. Awareness seemed to light the woman’s eyes, and Kara had the sneaking suspicion that the Danvers were the center of gossip in the insignificant town.

“Of course!” she intoned, turning to dig around the scattered mess for a stack of papers. The sound of the paper shifting around grated against Kara— she could hear every grain of paper sliding against one another. Today was not looking very bright for Kara; her senses were on hyperdrive in response to her anxiety.

“I have your schedule right here and a map of the school!” The babbling woman cut through Kara’s transgression, her stout form making its way around the counter to hand Kara the small stack. Much to Kara’s chagrin, the lady went through the classes and highlighted the fastest routes on the small map. Kara didn’t understand the necessity; she could read perfectly well, and her mind worked faster than any human— she could calculate the fastest route in less than half a second. Nonetheless, she let the woman carry on, seemingly happy with the small task of helping the new student; Kara nodded along at the appropriate times.

At the end of her explanations, she gave Kara a separate sheet. “You’ll just have each teacher sign this slip, and you’ll bring it back to the office at the end of the day.”

“Thank you,” Kara nodded, going to take her leave before the woman spoke again.

“I hope you like it here in Forks.” Kara gave a quiet response to the sentiment before leaving the building and heading back to the truck, intent on joining the growing line of people heading into the student parking lot.

Kara was relieved to see that most of the other vehicles, like Kara’s truck, were older; it was one less thing to worry about in the grand scheme of being the outcast. Back home, they weren’t necessarily in a low-income area. Eliza was a surgeon and made good money. Still, between the loss of Jeremiah, his income and funeral expenses, helping Alex pay for the college that the grants didn’t cover, and the constant replacement of things that Kara accidentally broke, they’d never really had the money to get a brand-new car. However, it was common to see flashy new vehicles in National City, from Mercedes to Porches to BMWs. The only vehicle that seemed to stand out here was the flashiest one, a silver Volvo that seemed out of place in the rundown Forks High School parking lot.

Kara cut the engine as soon as she was in a parking spot, not wanting to hear the deafening roar of a diesel engine longer than necessary and hopped out of the truck. She tightened her hand around the backpack strap slung over her shoulder, thankful for her photographic memory as she pictured the school map in her mind. She ducked her head, hair shrouding most of her face as she headed toward building three, where her first class of the day was housed. Kara followed behind two brightly colored raincoats through the door, thankful to not have to open it and risk tearing it off its hinges by mistake. Anxiety effected self-control in strange ways, after all.

The classroom was small, nothing compared to the large, crowded ones in National City High. The people in front of Kara hung up their raincoats on the small rack against the wall, and Kara found her way to the desk, approaching the teacher. He was a tall, dark man with short hair, and a nameplate identified him as Mr. J’onzz. He smiled kindly as he took the slip from Kara, signing in a flourish before he— thankfully— directed Kara to a lone desk in the back of the classroom. Kara kept her gaze down on the reading list she’d been given, trying to ignore the feeling of a dozen eyes on her.

The list contained Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner, and the like. It was all things Kara had already read, but still, many English idioms and metaphors made little sense to Kara, so she was excited to get further insight into the topics. She listened with rapped attention as the teacher went on with his lesson. When the bell rang, Kara suppressed a flinch, wincing at the loud frequency of it with the combined noise of chairs screeching across the linoleum flooring.

The boy next to her suddenly leaned across the aisle, a mop of brown hair falling into his eyes. His face was scattered with the occasional acne that all teenage boys seemed to possess. He had a dopey smile and would most likely be classified as a nerd if Kara went by human stereotypes.

“You’re Kara Danvers, right?”

Kara nodded in response.

“Where’s your next class?” he asked, seeming unfazed by her lack of verbal response.

“Um, government with Ms. Grant, in building six.” Kara tentatively met his eyes, a soft brown— the type that appears honey-gold in the sunlight. It was inviting and warm, not something Kara generally experienced with people.

“I’m heading to building four. I could show you the way if you’d like...?” Kara already knew the way, photographic memory and all, but he seemed nice at the least, and if Kara knew anything, nice people were hard to come by in high school. “I’m Winslow, by the way— but you can just call me Winn.” He added in a rush, almost as an afterthought.

“Yeah, thanks.” Kara smiled tentatively, the first genuine smile she’s had in days. She followed Winslow— Winn— over to the rack as he shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his umbrella from the side pocket of his backpack.

They headed out into the rain, Winn hoisting up his umbrella to cover Kara— who didn’t think to buy a raincoat—and Winn’s shorter stature compared to Kara’s towering frame made it an awkward task. She thanked him for the gesture, watching his smile widen, and his eyes spark in appreciation.

“I bet this is a lot different than National City, huh? Did you know that California averages only fifteen-point-five inches of rain a year while Washington state gets an average of thirty-eight inches of rain per year?” Kara’s eyebrows raised in apprehension as Winn continued with his absurd weather knowledge. A few moments later, he tripped in a puddle, his words getting caught in the back of his throat as he barely righted himself in time before giving Kara a wince, a laugh bubbling out from him as Kara reached to fix his crooked glasses.

“Yes, it’s very different. It’s not as sunny here.” He studied her with apprehension for a moment, seemingly bewildered for a reason unknown to Kara, before he gave her another smile and they continued on their way.

They finally reached the door of building six, Winn giving Kara a goofy two-finger salute: “Good luck in there. Ms. Grant is a tad… eccentric, to say the least.”

“Thank you, Winn.” Kara fiddled with her glasses, a nervous habit she seemed unable to break since Jeremiah gifted them to her.

“Maybe we will have some other classes together.” Kara gave him another smile before heading into the building, not wanting to characteristically stumble over her words in front of someone she just met. She feared scaring him off. After all, she was the alien new kid with zero friends outside of her adoptive mother and sister. It was rather sad to think about.

The rest of Kara’s morning passed similarly, though her trigonometry teacher, Mr. Gand, was the only teacher to force Kara to stand at the front of the class and introduce herself. She stumbled over her words, her face as red as a tomato, and then, of course, she tripped over her feet on her way to her desk. She hoped no one noticed the new spider-webbed cracks in the floor.

After that, the affairs of trigonometry were rather dull, the mathematics laughably rudimentary compared to what Krypton taught children at just five years old. Following trigonometry and after her following two classes, she started to recognize similar faces within each class. Some were braver than others and would walk up to Kara to introduce themselves and immediately take to asking personal or invasive questions. Kara felt none of them were truly genuine and decided not to give them much thought. Many of them asked those invasive questions, leaving Kara to fabricate things, a mangled version of half-truths and half-lies as she avoided her alien-ness.

One girl— who Kara had learned was Nia— sat beside her in her trigonometry and Spanish classes and opted to walk Kara to the lunchroom following Spanish. She was kind and awkward in the same way as Winn but more forward than he was, asking her questions left and right, though different from how the rest of the student population had interrogated her.

Nia was shorter than Kara but still taller than Winn, and Kara found she didn’t have to duck her head as much when talking to her. At that time of waiting in the lunch line, Nia was pointing to several groups, or, as Nia referred to them, cliques, and explaining to Kara who was who and who to avoid.

After securing their food, Nia dragged Kara over to a table, Winn giving her an excited wave as curious looks turned to her.

“So, guys, this here is Kara,” she gave a small wave and a smile a tad too awkward, “this is James, that’s Maggie, he’s Querl— we just call him Brainy— and then I’m Nia! Which, you knew already.”

She looked over at the friend group, Winn in all his short goofy glory, James was a lanky and tall dark-skinned boy with a shaved head, his eyes kind but his expression lacking a smile, Maggie was laughably short even while sitting down next to James. Like James’, her expression was void of a smile, her expression more critical and reserved— as if sizing Kara up. Still, she didn’t seem unkind, and Kara turned her gaze to Querl. He had shoulder-length hair and his nose so deep in a textbook that Kara doubted he had noticed their appearance.

The conversation among them wasn’t necessarily tense or awkward, but it was stilting here and there, inside jokes unknown to Kara and the type of camaraderie that came from growing up with each other. Unlike her previous school, the inside jokes didn’t seem to target Kara, and this odd group of classmates didn’t seem to have any ill will toward her. If Kara had to guess, she’d say this was the type of friend group that would deliberate amongst themselves on whether or not to allow someone into their little group.

A few minutes later, while sitting with these strange new people, Kara caught the sounds of several footsteps— all in sync, and the source devoid of any heartbeats. Her brows furrowed, confused as a group of pale figures barren of any sounds of life approached.

None of them looked that similar in the slightest. Of the group of five, two were boys, distinctively opposite of one another. One of them was a burly, stocky, tall boy with a scruffy beard; the other was shorter and lankier with short, cropped brown hair. Then there were the two girls, similar in their dark hair but contrasting in the features of their faces.

One was softer in appearance, the others features more angular with an uncaring air about her. There was another, the last one to enter the cafeteria, catching Kara’s eyes with rapped attentiveness. She was shorter than the other two girls, her hair darker— nearly appearing black in its intensity. Her jaw was a sharp line, her cheekbones seemingly chiseled from stone itself. She was eerily beautiful and statuesque, her dark painted lips an unadulterated contrast to her ghastly pallor— they were all very pale, varying in shades, but she appeared paler than the rest of the strange people with no heartbeats.

Somehow, they were all very similar in the same instance of disillusionment. They all resembled the perfect picture of human beauty yet deathly pale with intense eyes. They all held themselves in a similar style, appearing aloof and bored of the world, uncaring about the masses around them.

Their eyes were cast elsewhere, not staring amongst themselves or out into the cafeteria, a blank stare that flitted along nothing in particular.

“Who are they?” Nia and Winn turned to look over as the group approached a table in the far corner, secluded from the rest of the student population. The strikingly beautiful one glanced over as Nia eyed them, intense green eyes meeting Kara’s own stare before it flitted away just as fast as it had occurred. It was a strange instance, one that left Kara sure that if she wasn’t super-human, she wouldn’t have even noticed the quick reaction, a look of uninterested boredom, as if her eyes had raised in blank recognition of a name being called.

“That’s Jack and Sam Luthor, then Andrea and William Rojas. The Rojas are twins, only ones apparently related. Then there’s Lena Luthor. Oh, and they all live together.” Winn stated matter of factly in response as if it was as obvious as breathing.

Kara looked away, blushing violently as she turned to her half-eaten food. “They’re uh, very… beautiful?” She sounded confused even to herself.

Winn giggled to himself while Nia and Maggie nodded vehemently; even James hummed in agreement. “Yes, they are—but they’re all together though.”

Kara tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

Maggie waved a flippant hand through the air. “They’re like, dating, y’know? Together together. Andrea and Sam, Jack and William.”

“None of them are related, though; they are all adopted—well, besides the Rojas. Sort of.” It was the first time James had spoken, and his voice was deep and smooth.

“Yeah, Lionel Luthor and Lillian Luthor. Lionel is a young doctor; I’m not sure what Lillian does, though.”

“Hey, Brainy, where did you say they came from?” Maggie inquired, nudging his shoulder.

Brainy jumped, head snapping up from the book, “Huh? Oh, the Luthors? They moved down from Alaska a year ago.” The rest of the group nodded as Brainy returned to his book a moment later.

“You said Dr. and Mrs. Luthor are young, right?” Nia nodded at the question, “That’s sort of really kind of them to take in so many kids that young.”

Maggie shrugged. “I guess. I know the Rojas twins have been with them since they were eight. I think Lillian is their aunt or something.”

“We haven’t really figured it out, but we’ve been debating on if Lillian can have kids or not— y’know since they’ve adopted so many kids.” Kara titled her head, the concept of human reproduction still strange to her— after all, Kryptonian children were made in the Matrix System, genetically designed to be the perfect mixture of each parent. Kal was the only exception to that in centuries.

Kara glanced back over at the strange group, noting that they themselves appeared to be outcasts despite their beautiful nature. Kara’s eyes locked with the youngest Luthor’s. Intense green eyes, a strange mixture of moss and succulents, seemed to stare right through Kara.

“What about her?” Her eyes were trained on the shorter one, noting the regal set of her shoulders.

“Hm? Oh, that’s Lena Luthor.” Nia shrugged, plopping another french fry into her mouth. Kara took another glance, watching as the group whispered amongst themselves, lips moving so quickly it became nearly indecipherable. If Kara really wanted to, she could easily listen in, but she’d quickly learned that humans didn’t like it when they were eavesdropped on.

“She’s gorgeous, of course, but definitely don’t waste your time. Lena doesn’t date, and apparently no one here is good enough looking to even get a shot with her.” Maggie intoned, a sour note to her voice, as if she was irritated just by the fact.

Kara wanted to laugh but bit her lip in an effort to conceal it, catching an amused look from Lena as she cast another glance her way. It wasn’t long before the five of them rose from their seats, all unnaturally graceful in a way that screamed inhuman, as they made for the exit. At that moment of departure, Lena hadn’t glanced at Kara, but she was sure she could see the up tilt of a smile from her side profile.

One of Kara’s new friends, Maggie, had Biology II with Kara, walking with her to class in her reserved nature. They entered the class without much flourish and Maggie immediately went to sit at one of the blacktop tables. Kara noticed with dismay that everyone already had a lab partner, all aside from Lena Luthor, whom Kara recognized by her striking beauty alone.

Kara approached the teacher, Mr. Carr, if his name plate was anything to go by, to get her slipped sign. Kara kept an eye on the youngest Luthor as Mr. Carr signed off on her slip. A breeze ruffled Kara’s hair from the orbiting fan in the room— a strange item considering the cold weather of Olympia—and she watched as Lena Luthor suddenly went rigid, her face twisting into an expression of enragement and hostility. Kara looked away swiftly, taking back the signed slip and falling deeper into dismay as Mr. Carr directed Kara to take the seat next to Lena. Kara tripped on a book on her way to her desk, a slight burst of flight that went unnoticed being the only thing that saved her from face-planting onto the biology II floor. The girl next to that table had giggled viciously, and without much ceremony or grace, Kara plopped into the seat next to the tense Luthor.  

Immediately, Kara noticed the near-black hue of her eyes, a terrifying difference compared to the tangible green only minutes prior. Kara was bewildered at her antagonistic stare, unsure of what she could have possibly done to receive such a reaction from the youngest Luthor.

Kara decided to keep to herself, pulling out her textbook and keeping her eyes trained on it as she avoided the intensity that was Lena Luthor. Kara, with her enhanced everything, could hear the shifting movements, could tell without looking just by the vibrations of the air, that Lena had moved; she was leaning away from Kara in a way that would probably appear discrete to anyone else.

Another misfortune appeared in the fact that they were set to study cellular anatomy, something Kara had known for several years now. Regardless, Kara diligently took notes, more so for distraction than necessity. Occasionally, she’d glance over at the strange girl who sat next to her, her stiff posture unyielding, as if impossible for her to do anything else. Her long sleeves were pushed to her elbows, highlighting creamy skin with slight muscles and the occasional mole speckled across the pale skin. Kara noticed the tightly clinched fist resting against her left leg, tendons and muscles standing out in rigid divergence from the rest of her smooth stretch of visible skin.

The class seemed to drag longer than the others, Kara fighting the urge to bounce her leg in her anxieties, knowing that one accidental moment could cause a small crater in the linoleum floor. The stiff form of Lena was devoid of any heartbeat, and Kara could tell without concentration that Lena had not taken a breath since the moment she had walked into the classroom. She knew this was not normal for humans, far from it, actually, but she had no basis to go on. To her knowledge, there weren’t sub-species of humans on Earth, and besides herself and Kal-El, she was unaware of any other aliens inhabiting Earth.

Kara inwardly began wondering what was wrong with Lena before quickly shutting it down, remembering all the times she had heard the shrouded whispers of people asking the same thing about her. Kara took a deep breath, listening to the ticking of the clock above the teacher, waiting until the shrill sound of the bell went off. Kara didn’t understand Earth metaphors much, but it seemed that Lena Luthor, with her daunting glare of annoyance, made the phrase “looks could kill” ring in Kara’s head with sudden clarity.

The bell then rang, and this time, Kara had anticipated it and remained still as Lena Luthor was suddenly out of her seat, rising with fluidity and grace, and out the door before anyone else had even risen. Kara stared blankly after her momentarily before jolting into action, gathering her belongings and shoving them into her backpack, trying to shake off the strange feeling of unease that the Luthors carried about themselves.

Kara rose from her seat, a male voice calling out to her for the second time that day.

“You’re Kara Danvers, right?” Kara bit back a sigh of annoyance, something unlike her, but the day was starting to feel even more grating than when it had begun.

“Yes.” She gave a false smile, but the boy didn’t seem deterred.

“I’m Mike Matthews.” He was barely taller than Kara, with short brown hair and a patchy beard. Something about him screamed unfounded arrogance, and Kara was further annoyed by it.

“Hi, Mike.” Her tone was so clipped that she was sure that if Alex heard it, she’d think Kara had grown a second head.

“Do you need help finding your next class?”

“I’m headed to the gym, but I think I know the way.”

That seemed to only make Mike smirk as if he had accomplished something: “I’m actually heading that way now. Come on, let’s go.” Kara, too nice in her nature, was suddenly between a hard place and a rock. She didn’t want to tag along with him, already annoyed by his existence in her space.

Nonetheless, Kara found herself walking alongside Mike as he chattered on. She wasn’t paying much attention; one part of her was confused about the whole ordeal with Lena Luthor, and the main part panicking about gym class. Gym class was the bane of Kara’s super-powered existence; one minor slip-up could mean accidentally pulverizing a kid’s skull if she so much as threw a ball too hard. It was a terrifying prospect, and as much as Kara wanted to say she had one hundred percent control of her powers, she knew that would be a lie.

So, she sulked, not saying a word to Mike as they entered the rundown gymnasium. Unfortunately, it couldn’t end there. Nothing ever did for Kara.

“So, what did you do? Stab Lena Luthor or something? I’ve never seen that freak act like that before.” His tone was mocking, and his smile sardonic.

Great, people noticed that.

Kara went with the alternative route: playing the ditzy blonde.

“I’m sorry, who? Was that the girl I sat next to in biology?” His smile faltered slightly as he awkwardly readjusted the strap of his backpack.

“Uh yeah— she looked like she was in pain or something.”

“I don’t know,” Kara shrugged, “I’ve never talked to her.”

Mike hummed, obviously fumbling to keep the conversation going. “She’s a weird girl,” he cast his eyes to the changing room, shuffling on his feet as he lingered in Kara’s space. “If I were lucky enough to sit beside you, I’d talk to you.”

“Right,” Kara responded skeptically before turning and heading to the girls’ locker room door. She could hear him berating himself under his breath as she walked away, smiling slightly at the whole absurdity of the situation.

Thankfully, Coach Lord provided Kara a gym uniform but didn’t require her to change for the day. Gym class was like Kara’s own personal Hell, and she was grateful for the singular saving grace that occurred today.

Kara sat on the sidelines, watching four volleyball matches co-occur, wincing at the memories of all the times she’d accidentally broken a classmate’s bone playing this exact sport. It made her feel slightly nauseated, and she was grateful when the bell signaled the end of the day.

She began her walk to the office, thankful the rain had let up. There was still a biting chill, the wind whipping around almost frantically, but it didn’t bother Kara. She was immune to extreme temperatures, and it only registered as a cool breeze against her skin.

Kara went to open the door, suddenly freezing in her steps. Two voices were talking, but there was only one heartbeat.

Kara gathered that Lena Luthor was arguing with the school’s secretary in a low voice, trying to trade out sixth-period biology for a different class— any class.

Kara only felt more confused than before. Mike’s statement clearly showed that Lena Luthor wasn’t typically like this, and she found it hard to believe that this was all about Kara. However, she also found herself lacking any other explanation.

Kara looked around, making sure the area was absent of people before she slid her glasses down her nose slightly, her vision shifting along the electromagnetic spectrum before solidifying, giving her a clear picture of the scene playing in the office building.

The lady in the purple shirt looked perturbed, and Lena was hunched over the counter, a demanding air exuding from her. The secretary was denying the request, saying that every class was full. Then, another breeze blew past, the wind once again ruffling Kara’s hair. The instant it happened, she watched as Lena Luthor’s back stiffened, and she turned a dangerous glare toward Kara’s general direction.

Kara stumbled for a second, losing focus and causing her vision to shift rapidly between X-ray, infrared, and microscopic. Her head pounded at the sudden assault on her ocular senses, and she quickly shoved her lead-lined glasses back up her nose as Lena stormed out of the building, walking past Kara without so much a glance.

For the third time that day, Kara Danvers stared at Lena Luthor’s retreating form. With a sigh and a shake of her head, Kara approached the secretary— still looking disheveled from her run-in with the Luthor— and handed her the slip with all the teachers’ signatures.

Despite the previous encounter, the woman held a kind smile. “How was your first day, dear?”

“It was fine,” Kara lied, something that was frighteningly becoming easier and easier as the years passed. The woman didn’t seem all that convinced, but she also didn’t put up a fight as Kara turned to leave, intent on getting back to her truck and, subsequently, home.

The whole drive home, Kara felt the biting sting of tears threatening to fall, trying her best to keep them at bay until she arrived home. She wasn’t all that successful, but she was relieved to see Eliza’s car parked in the driveway already. She cut the engine nearly in the same instant as putting it in park before quickly grabbing her bag and entering the house.

“I’m home,” she called out, but Eliza immediately sensed the forlorn tone and soon left the kitchen, wiping her hands against her apron.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” she immediately approached, fingers moving to caress Kara’s cheek gently.

The feeling of flour sticking against her skin was familiar and grounding, but she still shrugged, unsure of herself and her words— uncertain of her place in the world.

“That bad, huh?” Eliza was always soft and gentle with Kara, using the back of one knuckle to wipe away a stray tear. “How about I finish making this chocolate pecan pie, and we can watch The Wizard of Oz?” Kara nodded, and quickly, Eliza was ushering her to the couch. It didn’t take long for Eliza to join her, and she found herself waking up on the sofa the following day, a warm quilt draped over her.

Chapter Text

“Nothing is predestined. The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to new beginnings.”

- Ralph Blum.

The next day was somehow better, yet terribly worse.

On the one hand, it was better because it hadn’t started raining— an improvement for Kara considering her desire for the warm rays of sunlight back in National City. She knew it would rain soon, the clouds dark and oppressive, but she settled with the fact it hadn’t rained yet. Then, Kara knew what to expect of her day. She saw Winn in English, who sat beside her while glaring at Mike the entire time. She sat through government with the stern Ms. Grant, ignoring Mike Matthews the whole class, who attempted to throw a paper plane her way at one point, only to be reprimanded by Ms. Grant. People didn’t stare as much, and she sat with the large group at lunch— Brainy, Winn, Nia, James, and Maggie. Mike had tried to join, but with a scathing look from Maggie and Winn, he had retreated. She felt more like she was treading water than than drowning.

It was worse because she was tired. Kara couldn’t seem to sleep all that well; the wind knocking around the house and the constant pelting of raindrops, combined with nightmares of Krypton’s descent, didn’t bode well for a tired teenage alien. Then, Mr. Gand had called on Kara despite her hand being firmly not raised, and she had stumbled over her answer, earning mocking laughter from some students despite the fact her answer had been correct. Nia had smiled reassuringly at her in the aftermath. Then, it somehow became miserable when she was forced to play volleyball, accidentally sending one of the balls ricocheting dangerously around the gym and hitting Winn’s head as the target. He didn’t seem all that upset; he merely sat up from the floor and gave a thumbs up, glasses askew, before lying back down on the floor. Worst of all, though Kara considered it a ridiculous reason for it to be a bad day, Lena Luthor was entirely and utterly absent from school. All morning, she had dreaded lunch, thinking about Lena’s accusatory glares only for her to be nowhere to be found come lunchtime. Kara had the inane desire to know why Lena Luthor had acted the way she did, though she feared she didn’t have the strength to actually do so, despite having tossed and turned while imagining what she would say in such a confrontation.

But when she walked into the cafeteria with Nia on one side and James on the other, she immediately noticed the four other siblings seated neatly at their table with their untouched trays of food. That was when Mike had tried to steal Kara away, and Winn and Maggie had appeared without so much of a word, their arms crossed threateningly. Well. As threatening as the two hobbits could be.

At lunch, Kara found herself entirely anxious over the anticipation of her arrival, thankful that the loud noises of the cafeteria seemed to cover up the creaking of plastic as her chair started to crumble under the force of her grip. Not wanting to explain such an incident, she quickly folded her hands in her lap, eyes occasionally glancing towards the side cafeteria door leading outside.

She made her way to biology, holding her breath as she entered the room, only to find that Lena Luthor was still nowhere to be found. She exhaled quietly, taking her seat and once again avoiding Mike Matthews. She didn’t know what to do with him, feeling as though diplomacy was the correct course of action, but unsure on to execute it. Regardless, Winn and Maggie seemed to enjoy warding him off from Kara, so maybe it was a problem for a later date. 

Kara repeated in her head that she was glad to have the desk to herself, that she didn’t care that Lena Luthor had seemingly disappeared because of Kara. It felt ridiculous and egotistical to consider; it seemed impossible as Kara hadn’t even so much as spoken with the youngest Luthor, and yet there was no other readily available explanation. 

When school was finally over, and the blush that followed the volleyball incident was quickly receding, she changed into her thick red sweater and jeans. She was able to evade Mike, having caught Winn’s knowing look as he asked Mike to accompany him to the nurse’s office after the fiasco in gym class. 

She had reached the truck quickly, avoiding the masses of fleeing students and the cacophony of sounds that echoed around her. She was quick to join the exit line, reaching into her bag to ensure the grocery money Eliza had provided her with was safe and secure. 

Kara often did the grocery shopping, the least she could do considering she wasn’t allowed in the kitchen if it didn’t evolve only the microwave. The Danvers had all learned the hard way that Kara had no skills in the kitchen, and often, Kara just used her heat vision instead of the microwave. It was technically safer, even if Alex didn’t believe her. As she waited in line, she caught sight of the two Luthors and the Rojas twins clambering into the shiny silver Volvo. 

Kara hadn’t particularly noticed their clothing choices before, too wrapped up in their strange beauty and Lena’s behavior at first. Still, now that she was truly looking, they all appeared designer in origin, stylish, and elegant. The one odd thing about Forks compared to National City was their beauty, and apparent wealth didn’t give them any headway in the school society; it only seemed to exclude them from it further. It was the exact opposite of National City. Kara looked away imperceptibly, feeling the cold gaze of the siblings as she drove past.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Kara to arrive at Thriftaway— the local grocery store. Though Kara wouldn’t have admitted this months ago, being in the supermarket was grounding to her, it was familiar. Despite the many different ones, they all held the same chorus of noises. Wheels gliding along the floor, the beeping of items being scanned, the sounds of change being handled, the sprinklers going off in the produce section, and a plethora of other sounds. It was all normal and familiar, something Kara was in desperate need of today. 

When Kara got home— surprisingly before Eliza— she unloaded the groceries, putting each item in the designated spaces that Eliza had arranged. When she was finished, she trudged upstairs to wait until Eliza arrived home to start dinner. She considered starting her homework before disregarding the thought, opting to open her phone and pull up her messages with Alex.

— Hey, Kar! How was the first day of school? Missing you tons, almost tempted to book it out of here just to ignore the pile of school work I have ;) 

That was sent yesterday at about the same time school ended, and there was another following it up from this morning.

— Hey hon, Mom said you had a pretty rough day. Do you need me to come and beat anyone up for you?

Kara smiled, laughing softly at her sister’s antics before shooting off a message.

— I’d rather not bail you out of jail again

—IT WAS ONE TIME KARA

Came the immediate reply before the phone suddenly rang; Alex’s face displayed brightly on the screen.

“Hey,”

“Hey yourself, dork.” Kara groaned loudly, making Alex laugh with villain-like glee.

“How’s school going? Busy busy, I imagine?”

“Hey! Don’t try and redirect the conversation, Kara!”

“What conversation?” Alex mumbled a string of unintelligible words at Kara’s nonchalant response. “Fine, fine.” She sighed loudly, falling back onto the comfortable expanse of her bed. “It’s not that bad I swear, no need to beat anyone up.”

“You sure? Cause I will be on the next flight— “

“Alex! It’s fine, really. I’ve actually made some friends— “

“Oh my god, Kara Danvers has friends?! Tell me all about ’em!”

“Alexandra— “

“Ouch— “

“You hush, okay,” Alex grumbled again, the shifting of papers audible to Kara as her sister was no doubt dealing with her homework. “So there’s Winn— I met him first, super dorky and most definitely a nerd, then there’s Nia, she’s super sweet, a little shy. Then there’s also Maggie— I think you’d like her. She’s got the same type of I’ll rip your head off if anyone says anything mean to you’ vibe.”

“You can bet it on your pretty little head; I’ll rip them limb for limb.”

“Alex,” Kara groaned, face palming in the same instance.

“Sorry, sorry, go on.”

“Right. Anyway, there’s James and Querl, well, Brainy, and they’re both super quiet. Brainy has always got his nose in a book and it’s kind of endearing. Then, aside from the friends, there’s this annoying boy— “

“Does my little sister have a crush?”

“Gross, Alex, no way. Rao, strike me down if that ever happened.”

“He’s that bad?”

“He won’t leave me alone, follows me around—hey, what’s that weird expression?”

“Follows you around like a lost puppy?”

“Yeah, that one! Anyways, Maggie and Winn have been warding him off. I’m almost tempted to spike him with a volleyball.” Alex started laughing so loudly that by the end of the next thirty seconds, she was coughing and struggling to breathe.

Eventually, with a wheeze and another coughing fit, Alex spoke again. “So, what seems to be the issue? Mom was really worried last night.”

Kara signed, and Alex patiently waited for Kara to speak as the minutes dragged on.

“It’s just this girl, I guess. She and her family are kind of the outcast at school, but you know me, I’m definitely not one to judge,” Alex huffed at that, “but the thing is, we had my last class together, and the only seat left was at her table. I’d never even spoken to her, and yet she acted absolutely disgusted by my existence, Alex.”

Kara worried her lip between her teeth as Alex remained quiet for a suspicious amount of time; the sound of rustling paper ceased to exist. “Kara, what’s her name and address?”

“Alex, no— “

“Kara— “

“I said no, Alex, plus she wasn’t even in school today, and there’s a chance it had nothing to do with me, okay? I am fine, but, and I mean but, if she is super mean to me, I will bail you out of jail again.”

“Fine, fine, deal.” Kara tilted her head, a familiar heartbeat accompanied by a low engine catching her attention. 

“Hey, Alex, Eliza just got home—“

“Stay out of the kitchen—“

“Haha, very funny. I’ll talk to you later. Thank you for being the best big sister in the world.”

“Always. I’ll be pretty busy tomorrow with exams, but text if you need anything. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Kara disconnected the call then, already on her way downstairs before Eliza had finished unlocking the door.

“Hi, honey.” Eliza immediately wrapped Kara in a bear hug, and she could feel the tension fade from her body. She still wasn’t used to this, the comfort that she found in the Danvers. She never would have imagined there would ever be people she would consider family after the death of her home. She relished it, clinging to the feel of coarse hospital scrubs and the smell of antiseptic that never seemed to dissipate from Eliza. She was internally grateful for them. She was reluctant to let go, but when a rumble imitated from Kara’s stomach, Eliza laughed in good nature before patting her cheek lovingly and making a beeline for the kitchen.

Kara simply followed after her, taking a seat at the kitchen table as she watched Eliza take out several ingredients and tie the apron around her waist. Eliza gave her a knowing look in which Kara raised her hands in a sign of surrender, a silent I won’t touch anything voiced between their gestures.

Eliza had only smiled and turned back around, and Kara had set to read Wuthering Heights— one of the class-assigned readings she’d been given. She’d already read it and had perfect memory, but if she slowed her mind down, it helped to pass the time. Before long, Eliza was setting dinner down at the table, and Kara was closing her book.

They hadn’t sat in silence for long, something that wasn’t in their nature to do, and Eliza began happily asking her about school, her expression soft and understanding. 

“Well, I have a few classes with this girl Nia and this boy Winn. I’ve been sitting with their group of friends at lunch. But then there’s this boy Mike, and he just won’t leave me alone.” Kara shook her head absently before taking another bite of food.

“Ah, Mike Matthews. He and his family are… a little arrogant, to say the least. They’re not the nicest people, to be frank, but they don’t cause too much trouble. They own a sporting goods store not too far from town; they make pretty good money off the backpackers who come through.”

Kara was glad that Eliza seemed to understand the ordeal. Eliza knew it wasn’t in Kara’s nature to be annoyed by someone, so if Eliza agreed, she must be understating the truth. 

“Mhmm,” Kara swallowed. “Everyone else seems pretty nice, though.” She paused momentarily, staring at her food with such intensity that her heat vision threatened to come to life. “Do you know anything about the Luthors?” Eliza raised a brow at that before nodding slowly and dabbing a napkin across her mouth.

“Dr. Luthor’s family? Yeah, he’s a pretty good man, but they tend to keep to themselves. I haven’t met his wife or children, but he seems alright. He’s pretty young to be a doctor, though.”

“They uh— the kids… they’re a little different, I guess. They don’t seem to fit in well at school.” Eliza bristled at that, something that was surprising to Kara. 

“People in this town,” she sighed deeply, “You know how those small-town people can be, Kara. Dr. Luthor, though, he’s a brilliant man and a damn good surgeon if I ever saw one. He could probably get a job at any hospital and make ten times as much on salary. Alas, he and I are similar in that aspect. He’s a young man who just wants to give his family the world; that’s why they moved here, actually. Said his wife wanted to live in a small town away from all the hustle and bustle of city life. And Charlie, he told me he expected some trouble from all those adopted teenagers, but he says they’ve never so much as spoken out of turn.” Kara’s brow furrowed at that, words that seemed in stark contrast to what she had witnessed at school. Nonetheless, she nodded along easily, mind running amuck rapidly as she considered all the possibilities on the why of the whole thing.

Kara decided with a half-truth in response: “They all seem pretty nice to me; I just noticed they kind of keep to themselves. They’re all strangely beautiful, though. I wasn’t aware humans could look like that.” Eliza laughed at the joke, shaking her head in endearment.

“You should see the doctor. A good thing he’s married, or all those nurses would be flocking their way towards him, no doubt making the hospital turn to chaos.” 

Kara smiled, mind still wandering around the youngest Luthor as they finished their meals. Kara was always the one to do the dishes, both because she liked to share the responsibility equally and because it helped her practice controlling her strength. Many times, Kara had accidentally shattered a plate or glass, but Eliza had never once fussed at her for it. When she was done, she gave Eliza another hug before unwillingly heading back upstairs to work on her math homework. 

That night, the wind had died down, and the rain had yet to fall, leaving it peacefully quiet. It was one less thing to tear her senses apart at the seams, though the nightmares still left her tossing and turning, but when she woke up— floating several feet above the bed— she felt more rested and at peace than the day before.

The rest of the week had passed in a similar fashion each day, the rain coming and going as if on a whim. School was uneventful with its tedious routines, and by Friday, she could recognize and name all the students that went to Forks High School. When it came to gym class, her classmates had learned not to pass her the ball and step quickly in front of her if the other team had made her their target. She was happy to stay out of it, lest she risk pummeling Winn again by mistake. Lena Luthor didn’t return to school.

Every day, Kara sat anxiously in the cafeteria as she watched the Luthors enter the cafeteria without Lena. After that, she could relax and fall into the peaceful routine of lunchtime conversations filled with jokes that she was slowly learning the meanings of. As of late, conversations were mostly filled around Winn trying to organize a trip to La Push Ocean Park in two weeks. Kara was invited quickly, and they all cheered happily when she agreed to go with them. Nia and Querl had reservations, knowing it would be cold, but Kara didn’t experience that human issue and was happy to tag along. After all, oceans on Earth were vastly different than the ones on Krypton, and it intrigued her to no end. 

And, on that Friday, she had become comfortable entering biology, no longer plagued by the idea of Lena Luthor sitting there in all her glory. For all Kara knew, she could have dropped out of school, and she tried desperately to not think about the youngest Luthor. Yet, she still couldn’t completely suppress the worry gnawing at her, as if she was at fault for the continued absence of Lena Luthor, as ridiculous as that sounded. 

Kara’s first weekend in Forks passed without accident, though Eliza had been stuck at the hospital for the better part of the weekend, leaving Kara home alone. She’d made her best attempt at cleaning the house (she may or may not have accidentally snapped the broom in half), got ahead in her homework assignments that were due in a few weeks, and texted Alex frequently. 

Kara, partly due to the fact she was literally hardwired that way, had a need for knowledge that was unquenchable, and she had driven to the library in town on Saturday. She had been sourly disappointed to find that it was poorly stocked and that she had already read everything they had, and deigned it not worthy enough to get a library card. She would have to ask Eliza soon if she could drive up to Olympia or Seattle to find a decent bookstore.

The rain remained soft instead of pelting during the weekend, and her sleep had improved slightly. On Monday, she was greeted by several students in the parking lot and waved to all of them with a shy smile in response. It was colder but not raining, which Kara was grateful for, considering she still lacked a raincoat and an umbrella. In English, Winn had taken his customary seat next to Kara, and they were given a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights that was straightforward and boringly easy to Kara. She had still waited for students to turn their papers in before she dared to get up, not wanting to draw attention to the fact she had finished the quiz in two minutes.

All in all, she was getting more comfortable and found that she was adjusting more quickly than she had in National City. 

When she walked out of class, she was confounded by the swirling bits of white floating around in the air. She could hear people shouting excitedly as she looked around, thundering heartbeats and wheezing lungs reaching her ears in the next instance. She was bewildered.

Winn laughed happily, reaching out to catch one of the strange white dots. “Wow, it’s snowing, Kara.”

Snowing? Oh! Snow! Kara mused, a smile of glee quickly taking over her face. Krypton and National City certainly didn’t have snow, and she was amazed at seeing it for the first time.

She reached for one of the white dots— a snowflake if her mind provided her with the correct term— a laugh of amazement rattling from her. The snowflake immediately melted on contact; Kara knew it would. Her body temperature running at a constant 105°F didn’t necessarily mix well with cold things. 

Winn turned towards her, a look of recognition sparking in his eyes before he literally jumped in excitement. “Oh my god, this is the first time you’ve seen snow before, right? It hasn’t snowed in National City since 1974.” Kara’s eyebrows raised at the out-of-the-blue fact, another genuine smile coming from it— it had been happening so often lately that it had started to feel normal.

“Yeah, yeah, it is.” At this point of the day, a thin layer of snow had already formed, Winn had specks of snowflakes littered all over his head, and their glasses had fogged up.

In the next instant, Winn was jumping, yelling an accusatory curse as snow dust was falling from his back, Maggie a few yards away laughing like a hyena.

“Oh, it’s on!” he yelled to her before pulling Kara down by the sleeve and hiding behind a bush. 

“Okay, so, no snow in National City, so I doubt you’ve ever had a snowball fight, but we need to kick their asses.” Kara’s eyes widened, glancing over as Maggie, Nia, James, and even Brainy were quickly gather snow to make snowballs. 

“Winn… you’ve seen me in gym, I— “

“Practice makes perfect, Kara, no time like the present!” He was already quickly scooping up snow, making compact little balls.

Kara deliberated, looking back and forth between Winn and the group. She had only ever seen snowball fights in movies, and the snow seemed soft, lacking solidity, and flakey. It should shatter directly upon contact, and Kara had decided she could risk it without harming someone.

Winn struggled to make compact balls, but the cold didn’t bother Kara’s bare hands. She knew she could pulverize coal into diamonds and found it rather easy to make the snowballs. 

They were perfectly round, and Winn looked at her in surprise as their stack of “ammo” grew. “You sure you’ve never done this?’ Kara just laughed, awkwardly brushing it aside.

A moment later, he threw a snowball that hit James square in the chest after Maggie quickly ducked to avoid fire. James just smiled imperiously, tugging at his scarf before he let one loose. Kara tracked its path, time slowly as her mind scattered around. It was headed directly for Winn’s face, and in a second, she had pulled him down roughly and threw one back. Possibly, with a little too much force.

The snowball hit James square in the face with so much force that it knocked him completely down, leaving him flat on his back. Kara momentarily worried before a deep, rich laugh filled the air around them, and more snowballs rained around them. 

At that point, the entire student body seemed to have joined in, no one knowing who was on whose side, just endless explosions of snow and joy. 

It wasn’t until a while later that a horde of teachers walked outside, scolding everyone for being nearly twenty minutes late to class. Despite the snowball fight suddenly ending, everyone was wearing smiles and not the least bothered at how their fingers and lungs burned from the cold. Winn had given Kara a high five—who forgot to roll her arm with the action, leaving Winn shaking his hand out with a wince of pain. Then they parted, going their separate ways for the next class.

Spanish class was rather routine for Kara, who found she could absorb and learn languages quite quickly. Afterward, she had walked to lunch flanked by Nia and James—Maggie had stayed back for something. Winn had walked in with Brainy, snow melting atop his head as he laughed loudly and gave Brainy a good-natured shrug. Brainy had a large clump of ice still in his long hair, and Kara had a sneaking suspicion that it was Winn’s doing. Kara just shook her head, joining Nia and James in the lunch line and making her way through before heading to their regular table.

Kara suddenly froze in her steps, a loud curse following it as Nia collided with the immovable object that was Kara. Nia then pulled on Kara’s arm—which didn’t budge in the slightest—with a concerned look etched into her face.

There were five people at the table.

Kara ducked her head quickly. She could feel the heat of her blush spreading up her neck, up into the tips of her ears. She suddenly felt self-conscious in her baggy sweater, streaks of mud in the fabric from the remnants of the mushy snow. 

“What’s with Kara?’ Her mouth fell into a pin-straight line, annoyance flaring.

“Nothing. Go bother someone else, Mike.” Nia held a biting tone, something Kara hadn’t expected of the shy and soft-spoken girl.

Once he was gone, there was a warm presence around her shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

Kara blinked rapidly for a second, her senses coming back into focus. “Yeah, just feeling a little bit nauseous.” Something that was physiologically impossible for Kara.

She was spurred into motion by Nia’s gentle push on her shoulder, guiding her to their table. They sat there, everyone just as animated as usual, while Kara simply sipped at her soda and ignored the gnawing hunger of her alien appetite. While nausea wasn’t something that occurred for Kara due to her alien biology, anxiety wasn’t something that the yellow Sun could take away, leaving her to wilt in her seat.

Twice, Winn had asked her how she was feeling, but she had denied that anything was amiss, though she had contemplated making a different lie just to escape into the nurse’s office for the next hour. 

Kara shook her head. She was impervious. She shouldn’t have to run away.

Kara chanced a glance their way, hoping to not be met with that deadly glare.

Instead, they were laughing. Lena, Jack, and William’s hair were all saturated with melting snow, and she watched in astonishment as Sam and Andrea leaned back as Jack shook his dripping hair towards them. They were enjoying the snowy day just like everyone else—only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of them.

Aside from the laughter and playfulness, something seemed off, different in a way Kara couldn’t pinpoint—besides the lack of heartbeats. She examined Lena more carefully; her skin seemed less pale than when Kara last saw her. Maybe she was flushed from the snow fight, she decided. Then, the circles under her eyes seemed less prominent. There was something more; she just couldn’t pinpoint it, so she pondered, trying and failing to isolate the change.

“Kara, what are you staring at?” Winn intruded on her thoughts, eyes following Kara’s sight line.

At that exact moment, her eyes flashed over to meet Kara from across the cafeteria. Kara ducked her head again, letting her hair fall along the side of her face to hide herself. Kara was sure, though, that in the instant their eyes met, Lena didn’t look harsh or unfriendly like the last time they’d seen each other. She seemed merely curious and unsatisfied in some way.

Nia leaned into Kara’s space, whispering, “Lena Luthor is staring at you.”

“She doesn’t look angry, does she?” Kara couldn’t stop herself from asking despite the rush of embarrassment that followed.

Nia took another glance, “No, it doesn’t seem like it; why?”

Resting her check in her palm, she said, “I don’t think she likes me.” Kara confided, and everyone at the table nodded in mutual understanding.

“The Luthors don’t like anybody,” Maggie said, waving a fry around in the air as she spoke, her gaze cast towards the Luthor. “Well… they don’t notice anyone enough to like them. She’s still staring at you, though.”

Winn hissed, “Stop staring at them!”

Maggie raised her hands in surrender before James was changing the topic. He was planning an “epic battle of the blizzard” in the parking lot after school and wanted everyone to join them. When Brainy had decided, Nia had suddenly and enthusiastically agreed. The way Nia had looked at Brainy left Kara with the impression she would do anything Brainy asked within reason. This time, Kara declined, too rattled by the Lena Luthor incident and wanting nothing more than to sulk in her bed. For a brief moment, she considered super-speeding through the forest to get home in less than a second.

For the rest of her lunch hour, Kara kept unusually quiet, her gaze cast down onto the grain of the table, mapping out inconsequential patterns just to keep herself occupied. Kara reasoned that Lena hadn’t looked angry, that she could do this and didn’t need to flee home into Eliza’s arms. Or maybe all the way to National City to see Alex. That could be a good idea— no, no, no. Kara halted her own thoughts, determined to not let a silly incident that probably— well, maybe— didn’t have anything to do with her. Kara groaned, and her head fell to the table with a resounding smack that the group didn’t comment on, seemingly aware that Kara was riddled with anxiety and that it was best not to interrogate her. 

Despite her inability to get nauseated, her stomach seemed to be doing cartwheels, and it only intensified as lunch ended and she walked side by side with Maggie to biology. Walking out of the doors lead to a chorus of groans, the snow now quickly melting, rain pouring down and washing away the remnants of the mushy ice. Maggie, like all people besides Kara, carried an umbrella around and promptly handed it to Kara— seeing Maggie was shorter than even Winn— and held it aloft as they made their journey. Maggie was forming a string of complaints as they walked towards building four, seemingly just as perturbed by the rain as Kara was at that given moment. 

Once inside her classroom, Kara let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, relieved by the lack of life and statuesque beauty from her empty table. Mr. Carr was bustling around, distributing microscopes and a small box of slides on each table. Unlike earlier, she and everyone else weren’t late for class, and the class didn’t start for several antagonizing minutes. The class filled with chatter as Kara idly doodled her house sigil on the corner of a page in her notebook. 

Kara could sense it very clearly, the sound and vibrations apparent to her with uncanny clarity as the seat beside her was taken, but her eyes stayed firmly on her sigil, her pen pressingly a little too deep into the paper and puncturing it.

“Hello,” Kara startled inwardly, the voice smooth and methodical, perfectly expected and unexpected all the same.

Kara looked up, adjusting her glasses in that nervous tic of hers, surprised that Lena Luthor was speaking to her. Lena was still sitting as far away as the desk allowed, her hair damp and disheveled in a way that somehow accentuated her beauty. 

Her brilliant face was friendly and open, and a slight smile tugged at her perfect lip— painted a deep shade of red like the previous time Kara had seen her. Kara noticed that Lena’s eyes were careful and nearly calculating in their intensity. 

“My name is Lena Luthor,” she continued, “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Kara Danvers?” Kara’s mind spun with confusion, wondering if she had hallucinated the whole thing but knowing it was impossible. Lena Luthor was suddenly perfectly polite now. Kara needed to say something, and despite her nature to always ramble away, she found herself at a loss for words—

“I um, how— how do you know my name?” Great going, Kara. She scolded herself, embarrassment flaring for another time that day. 

Lena laughed softly, enchantingly, and without malicious intent. “Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town was excitedly anticipating your and Dr. Danvers’ arrival.”

Kara flushed, chastising herself for her inability to compose words correctly, but thankfully, Mr. Carr had decided to start class at that very moment. Kara tried her best to concentrate as the burly teacher explained the lab they’d be doing today. Apparently, the world was out to get Kara. The slides in the box were purposefully out of order, and they were to work with their lab partners on the slides of onion root cells in the phases of mitosis and then order and label them correctly. They weren’t allowed to use their textbooks or notes, which meant Kara would have little success in avoiding the curious gaze of Lena Luthor. 

With a command from Mr. Carr to get started, Kara eyed the microscope. “Would you like to go first?” Kara, now paying further attention to the enigma of Lena Luthor, noticed the odd Irish lilt in her none, barely noticeable— as if she were trying to hide it— but it was there all the same, and Kara found herself stuck, unable to say anything as she was blinded by Lena’s soft crooked smile. 

“Or I could start if you wish?” The smile had dropped, a strange expression taking its place that Kara didn’t know the name for.

“No,” Kara flushed, “I’ll go ahead.” Kara pulled the microscope towards her; she had already done this lab, and frankly, her vision was stronger than any microscope hoped to be, and she didn’t actually need it, but the world didn’t need to know that; she digressed. 

She studied the slide briefly, only for show purposes, “Prophase.”

“Do you mind if I look?” Lena asked, already reaching for the microscope as Kara went to remove the slide, only for her hand to land gently on Kara’s wrist to stop her. Kara blinked for a moment, confused by the feeling of it. Her hand was ice cold, so cold that Kara could noticeably feel it. Kara jerked her hand away quickly, so quick she hadn’t even considered the repercussions of what would happen if she pulled back with too much force. She was shocked; she could withstand extreme temperatures and barely feel a thing, but she could feel the icy temperature of Lena Luthor against her skin— something that wasn’t unpleasant or bitingly cold to her but still shocking, nonetheless.

“I’m sorry.” Lena’s hand had retreated just as quickly as Kara had retracted, but was still reaching for the microscope. Kara watched her, still confounded by the touch. She examined as Lena took an even shorter glance than Kara’s, “Prophase.” She agreed, scrawling elegant handwriting down in the first box on their shared worksheet. She then traded it for the next slide in a swift movement, giving it a cursory glance. 

“Anaphase.” She mumbled, writing it down as she spoke. 

Kara tried to sound as indifferent as possible, gently nudging at her glasses to slide down her nose the perfect amount necessary.

“May I?” Lena gave a slight smirk, pushing the microscope towards Kara. Once again, Kara pretended the microscope was necessary, finding that Lena had been right. “Slide three?” Kara held her hand out, not actually looking through the eyepiece at all and catching the way Lena was careful not to touch her again. 

Kara placed the slide, acting as if to look through the microscope, and this time, her answer was much faster. Her microscopic vision solidified, and she pulled back in less than half a second.

“Interphase.” Kara caught Lena’s single raised eyebrow; a questioning look that had occurred before Kara had pushed the microscope over before she had even asked. 

She took a swift look before writing it down on the paper. Kara would have written it down, but Lena’s scrawl was elegant, and Kara felt it would be a disservice to add her clumsy writing to the paper.

Kara glanced around, noticing that they were the only ones finished, everyone else far from it as they bickered with their lab partners over who was right and who was wrong. Mike and his partner— Imra— had their textbooks open in their laps under the desk. 

Which left Kara with nothing to do… besides trying not to look at her.

Unsuccessfully, Kara glanced up, seeing that Lena was staring at her, that same inexplicable look of frustration apparent on her face. Suddenly, Kara realized what that sudden difference was. Her eyes. They weren’t like the sea green from the first, nor the deep black from later that day. Instead, they had a honey-gold hue to them. 

“Did you get contacts?” Kara asked, unthinking.

Lena looked puzzled momentarily before shaking her head, “No.”

“Oh,” Kara felt that annoying blush rise back up, “I thought there was something different about your eyes.” Lena merely shrugged and looked away. Kara was learning she actually despised the fact there was no sound of life coming from her body, hated she couldn’t hear the telltale sign of a heart jumping about during a lie, the way blood pressure would rise and fall, and the lungs would take on a different pattern of breathing. She’d never realized the absence of those things would leave her in the unknown, wondering whether something was honest or dishonest. 

But Kara knew something was different. She could remember clearly the first time she’d seen Lena Luthor. She vividly remembered the technicolor of a thousand different greens making up her eyes and then the flat black that preceded it, ultimately striking in its contrast to her pale skin. 

Today, her eyes were entirely different, a strange ocher of color yet darker than butterscotch, not something usual for humans. Kara didn’t have an explanation for it, and after closer examination, there didn’t appear to be a translucent ring around the iris to indicate contacts. 

Kara glanced down, noticing Lena’s hands balled up tightly against her thighs. She was tempted to say something else— anything else, really— but she heard Mr. Carr approaching before he leaned over to look at their completed worksheet. 

He accusingly glared at Lena, “So, Lena, didn’t you think Kara should get a chance with the microscope?”

“Actually, she identified three of the five.” Was the automatic and fluid response, with nothing in her tone betraying the tenseness of her body. 

Mr. Carr looked at Kara now, his expression skeptical. “Have you done this lab before?”

She nodded, “Not with onion root.”

“Whitefish blastula?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded, seemingly with approval, “Were you in the advanced placement program in National City?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he paused momentarily, clicking his tongue, “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners.” He mumbled something else as he walked away, but Kara didn’t particularly care enough to focus on hearing it.

“It’s too bad about the snow, isn’t it?” Kara turned to look at Lena, who had a feeling Lena was forcing herself to partake in small talk. She seemed the type for deep conversation, not inconsequential rudimentary things. 

“Kinda, yeah. It was my first time seeing snow, but I still miss the Sun.” She tapped her pencil against the table before adding, “And it’s not that I don’t enjoy the rain; the clouds just keep the Sun at bay more than I’d like.”

“Forks must be a difficult place for you to live then?”

“Not necessarily. My adoptive mom likes it here, and I’ve made a few friends. It’s not terrible.”

Lena seemed to muse at that, her smile returning briefly, a look of fascination taking root in her eyes. 

“Why did you move here then?”

Kara turned to look away, her face too distracting that it worried Kara she might say something she wasn’t supposed to. 

“It’s… complicated.” 

“I think I can keep up.” She pressed, but in a way that didn’t seem overly invasive. 

Kara paused for a long moment before making the mistake of meeting her gaze. That vibrant green had returned, confusing Kara and making her answer without thought. 

“My adoptive dad passed away. Sister at college.” Her brows furrowed but didn’t hold the look of pity Kara was used to, only understanding evident. 

“I’m sorry.” Kara shrugged it off, and Lena went for a more lighthearted response.

“That doesn’t sound too complex.” there was another pause before sympathy took over, “When did it happen, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Kara averted her gaze again, still caught in the guilt that wracked her when Jeremiah’s death was mentioned. She still felt at fault.

“Last September.” Her voice sounded sad, even to herself.

“And your sister? Where does she attend college?”

Kara couldn’t fathom Lena Luthor’s sudden interest, considering what Kara had taken to referring to as The Lena Luthor Incident. “Alex got into Stanford.”

Pretty impressive.” Lena surmised.

She was still staring at Kara like the information of Kara’s life was somehow vital knowledge, and she couldn’t tell if she felt off-put by it or not. 

“And your mother forced you to come up here?”

“Adoptive mother,” she corrected automatically, “No, she didn’t. I chose to come with her.”

“I don’t understand,” she admitted, seeming more frustrated by it than necessary. “If you miss the sun and the warmth so much, why come here?”

“The lack of warmth isn’t really the issue. But Eliza was sad, being reminded of everything. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. If she needed a change of scenery, I was fine with that, and with Alex in school, we’re all each other has.”

Lena was staring intently with a look of confoundedness.

Kara just shrugged, feeling awkward in her own skin while sitting beside Lena. “That’s all there is to it, really.” The lie felt bitter: the way Jeremiah died, her cousin somewhere in the world, her planet exploding, losing everyone she ever knew, being stuck in the Phantom Zone, crashing to a strange planet. It was all boiled to the forefront of her mind, a tidal wave of emotions that knew no bounds. The cacophony of her feelings only seemed to increase the cacophony of noise around her, her senses dialing back up as her focus failed. 

“That doesn’t seem very fair.”

Kara swallowed the anger that threatened to rise. “Has anyone ever told you that life isn’t fair?” It was a concept Kara was intimately close to. 

“I believe I have heard that somewhere.” Her tone held more bite, a dry remake in response that clashed with the whirlwind of emotions and overstimulated agony that Kara was experiencing.

“I feel like there’s more to it, that you’re suffering more than you let on.” Kara looked over at Lena again, feeling her cheeks heat up dangerously, her heat vision threatening to explode. “Am I wrong?”

Kara tried to ignore her, but Lena’s arrogance only further grated against Kara’s fried nerves.

“I didn’t think.” She was smug.

Kara glanced away, tampering her heat vision down enough to look back at Lena a few moments later. “Why does it matter to you?”

Lena frowned, the arrogance fading just as fast as it had come. “That’s a very good question,” Lena said too low to herself, at a decimal humans couldn’t pick up on, but Kara was overloaded, the sound waves reaching and clashing with the vibrations that settled through the air. 

Kara sighed as Lena opened her mouth again, “Am I annoying you?”

Kara looked back at Lena, her senses dialing back slightly as she forced herself to focus on the lack of heartbeat that Lena had. “Not exactly. I’m more annoyed at myself. Alex always says I’m easy to read, an open book.” She hated the way she sounded, almost like a broken child, as the whisper escaped her.

She supposed she was a broken child.

“On the contrary, I find you rather difficult to read.” Kara felt Lena was making herself sound softer for her benefit, her voice not as loud as the rest of the room.

“You must be a good reader then.” What is that even supposed to mean? Kara chastised herself, a reoccurrence whenever she was around Lena Luthor. 

“Usually,” Lena responded. Her voice held more of the Irish lilt than previously, and her softness chipped away at the fake American accent. 

Kara winced as Mr. Carr called the class to order, the sudden increase in his voice a shock to Kara’s system. The following silence that followed wasn’t all that quiet to Kara. She could hear blood rushing, hearts pounding, lungs inhaling and exhaling, the electricity buzzing in the walls and ceilings, the sound of pipes running water, the sounds of digestive systems working away, birds chirping outside, cars driving miles away, voices from every direction that was certainly miles away from the school. The feeling of her clothes and the vibrations of the air, the smells of dozens of people infiltrating her nose, and her glasses were the only thing keeping her eyes from shifting along all manners of light spectrums. 

Her only solace was the quietness of Lena Luthor’s being. 

Though Lena had been the tipping point for her sensory overload, she also found that, unintentionally and without Lena’s knowledge, Lena Luthor was the only one in the room that could stop the onslaught of noises. 

Slowly, she returned to herself, senses finally falling to the background, and she noticed— though she didn’t know when— she had snapped her pencil in half, the graphite staining against her palm. 

She tried to appear attentive to Mr. Carr but was falling short.

When the bell rang, Lena Luthor was up and out of her seat with the same grace and fluidity as the previous Monday, and like last Monday, Kara stared after her in amazement. 

Unfortunately, Mike approached her. “That was awful,” he groaned. “They all looked exactly the same. You’re lucky you had Luthor for a partner.”

“I didn’t have any trouble with it,” Kara responded, finding that the assumption stung, but immediately felt guilt at his hurt look. “I’ve done the lab before, though.”

“Luthor seemed friendly enough today,” he commented as he shrugged on his raincoat. He struggled to catch up to Kara, who had simply glided out of the door and started heading toward the gym. 

She tried to sound indifferent, to channel her inner Alex Danvers, “I wonder what was with her last Monday.”

He was incessantly chatty, not something that Kara cared for after the aftermath of her overstimulation, and gym class didn’t seem to hold her attention either. When Mike ended up on her team for the day, she was happy to let him cover her position as well as his own. Her attention was only necessary when it was her time to serve the ball; her team ducked warily out of the way each time she was up.

When school had finished, the rain was just a mist and not so bothersome. When Kara looked around to ensure the coast was clear, she noticed the still, white figure. Lena Luthor was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from Kara, and staring intently in her direction. Kara swiftly looked away and backed out of the parking spot, nearly clipping a rusty Toyota Corolla in the process before slamming on the brakes. Her next attempt at leaving the spot went better, and as she passed the Volvo, she could swear she saw Lena laughing. 

Chapter Text

“Our behavior toward each other is the strangest, most unpredictable, and most unaccountable of all the phenomena with which we are obliged to live. In all nature, there is nothing so threatening to humanity as humanity itself..”

- Lewis Thomas.

When Kara opened her eyes in the morning, she immediately noticed something was different. It was the light. It was still the gray-green light of a cloudy day in the forest, but it was clearer somehow. Kara jolted, realizing there was no fog veiling her window. 

In an instant, she had left her bed and was now peering outside the window, smiling immediately as the white expanse of snow met her eyes. It was dusting everything, the yard, the trees, the road, and her truck. The rain from yesterday had frozen over, making it a dangerous expedition to school, though it didn’t deter her excitement. She could see the intricate patterns of pine needles having been frozen over from the rain, which only seemed to enamor her more with the strange phenomenon of snow. 

Feeling lighter than she had the previous day, she floated down the stairs—literally—noting that Eliza had already left for the day and opted to make a bowl of cereal and pull out the carton of apple juice. For once in her life, Kara felt excited to go to school, which only struck a tingling of fear into her at the prospect. She knew it wasn’t the unstimulating learning environment she anticipated, nor was it seeing her newfound friends. If she was honest, Kara knew she was excited to get to school because she would see Lena Luthor. And that, to Kara, was very, very stupid. 

Kara reckoned she should be avoiding Lena entirely, especially after the embarrassing babbling she’d done just the day prior. Not to mention, Kara felt strangely suspicious of her; why would Lena lie about her eyes? She still felt confused over the hostility she sometimes felt emanating from the youngest Luthor, and Kara was still ridiculously tongue-tied whenever she pictured Lena’s perfect face. Then again, Kara didn’t quite know why she was getting so tongue-tied. Lena was just another girl; why did she affect her in such ways?

Kara shook her head at the thought, knowing she shouldn’t be anxious to see Lena. 

When she set off to drive to school, she settled on floating a millimeter above the ground to reach her truck, not wanting to take a fall that would inevitably crack the cement. The drive to school, however, was far more daunting. Kara had never driven on ice, and as she made the nightmarish journey, she found that the steering wheel had the indents of her fingers gouged into them by the time she parked. 

She was still early, and in order to keep her thoughts from straying to the dark-haired wonder of her life, she settled on thinking about her new friends. Things were different here, and maybe it was because the group hadn’t seen her stumble through the past four years of her life trying to get accustomed to Earth. They hadn’t witnessed the strangest things Kara had said, or the strange events that occurred around Kara, nor had they seen the embarrassing moments where she would say things like, “They didn’t have birds on Krypton,” far too loudly in the open. 

Along with being in Forks, she noticed more boys had started paying attention to her. Notably, Mike, though she couldn’t understand why. Kara was sure she looked the same as she had in National City. Maybe it was that the boys back home had watched Kara go through the awkward stages of adolescence, and the image still clung to their minds, or perhaps it was the nature of her “weirdness.” She pondered if maybe it was because she was the novelty of a town where newcomers were few and far between. Whatever the reason, Mike’s puppy dog behavior was disconcerting. She wondered momentarily if she would feel better being ignored than sought after by such an annoying human specimen. Kara glanced down at her phone, noticing time had slipped away, and quickly exited the truck. As she got out, she noticed glinting light reflecting off her tires and bent down to look closer. She realized that the reason her drive hadn’t been too painful was because Eliza must have put snow chains on the truck. Kara smiled at that, her throat constricting with emotion. She was still amazed by the ability of strangers to take in an alien from a dead planet, to shower her with as much love as possible—as if she had been there with them her whole life. As if she belonged with them.

Kara was still standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion the snow chains had brought on, when a shrill noise caught her attention.

It was a high-pitched screech, and it quickly became a painful nuisance. Kara looked up to find the source before she was startled.

Kara saw several things simultaneously. Everything appeared in slow motion to Kara, her abilities lending to her in a way no one else could fathom.

Lena Luthor was standing four cars down from Kara, a look of horror adorning her pale face as she stared at her. Lena’s face stood out from the sea of other faces; most of them had not yet realized what was happening due to the slow processing speed of the human brain. Some had expressions slowly morphing into shock. Of most immediate importance, however, was the dark blue van that was skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of her truck, and Kara was standing directly between two objects set to collide. 

Kara didn’t know what to do or how to get out of this. The truck couldn’t hurt her, but no one else knew that, and she certainly couldn’t reveal that. But it was clear people noticed her standing there, and if she moved, people would surely question Kara standing there and then suddenly gone in a blur of super-speed. 

Suddenly, something hit Kara hard, a strange phenomenon in itself as the scent of cinnamon and old books hit her like a brick wall. Kara’s head impacted against the icy blacktop, and she could hear the cracks splitting about within the asphalt. She was suddenly lying on the pavement beside her truck, something cold and hard pressed against her body as she heard the end of the van hit the corner of her truck. The van was still spinning, however, and as she looked up, the sound of a low curse informed her that someone was with her at that moment, only to reveal it was Lena Luthor. 

Two white hands shot out protectively in front of Kara, and the van shuttered to a stop, barely a foot from her face, the hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of the van’s body. 

Then, Kara’s focus long gone, watched as Lena’s hands moved so quickly, they blurred. One hand was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, the other moving Kara’s legs. In an instant, the metallic thud reached Kara’s ears, and the van settled onto the asphalt, exactly where Kara’s legs had been. Glass popped and shattered around them before the screaming proceeded after one long second. In the abrupt chaos, Kara could hear dozens of people shouting her name, but more clearly than the shouts was Lena Luthor’s low, frantic, Irish voice in her ear.

“Kara? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Kara sounded strange to herself for a moment, confused at the events. She tried to sit up, only to realize Lena was holding her against the side of her body in an iron grasp.

“Be careful,” she warned, “I think you hit your head pretty hard.”

Kara fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew it was a perfectly concerned response, that Lena didn’t know she was invulnerable, but she was. Invulnerable, that is. Kara was perfectly fine, aside from the shock of the whole situation. 

“Ow,” Kara responded instead, simply because it would make sense. It would appear more weird if Kara didn’t complain about the apparent damage her impervious head had taken. 

“That’s what I thought.” Amazingly enough, Lena’s voice sounded like she was trying to suppress laughter. 

“How—Lena, how did you get over here so fast?” Kara knew without doubt that no human could move that fast.

“I was standing right next to you, Kara.” Her tone was serious again, a dangerous undercurrent.

Kara moved to sit up again, and Lena let her, releasing her hold around Kara’s waist and sliding as far from Kara as their limited space allowed. Kara looked at her concerned, innocent expression, and found herself momentarily disoriented by the force of Lena’s intense green eyes. 

Then, they found them, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, as well as Kara and Lena.

“Don’t move,” someone instructed,

“Get Adam out of the van!” someone else shouted. There was a flurry of activity around them. Kara went to stand up, but Lena pushed her back down by her shoulder with a surprising amount of strength.

Kara grumbled a complaint, surprised when Lena let out a breathy laugh.

“You were over there,” Kara said again, and then the laugh abruptly stopped. “You were by your car.”

Lena’s expression was hard, “No, I wasn’t.” 

“I saw you.” The chaos around them continued, and Kara could hear the gruff voices of adults approaching the scene. But Kara wasn’t letting it go, not that easily, at least. 

“Kara, I was standing with you and pulled you out of the way.” The full devasting power of Lena’s eyes turned to Kara, flecks of that honey-gold color flashing to life momentarily as if she was trying to communicate something crucial.

“No.” Kara set her jaw, watching as the green disappeared entirely and those gold eyes blazed.

“Please, Kara.”

“Why?” It wasn’t a demand, but Kara couldn’t understand, or maybe she could. She herself was a super-powered being, and whatever Lena was, it certainly wasn’t human.

“Trust me,” Lena pleaded, her soft voice overwhelming Kara even over the sound of approaching sirens. 

“Will you promise to explain everything to me later?” Kata tried instead.

“Fine,” Lena snapped, abruptly exasperated. Kara didn’t respond to the sudden anger, just waited as the EMTs arrived.

It took three EMTs and two teachers—Mr. J’onzz and Coach Lord –to shift the van far enough away to bring the stretchers in. Lena had vehemently refused, and Kara tried to do the same, but Lena, being the traitor that she was, told them that she had hit her head and probably had a concussion. Kara groaned in embarrassment when they put the gaudy and unnecessary neck brace on. It appeared as if the entire school was watching soberly as they loaded Kara into the back of the ambulance. Lena, of course, got to ride into the front. 

Kara found it simply maddening. Here she was, merely wasting the EMTs’ time and resources that she didn’t require because the world didn’t know she was invulnerable. To make matters worse, Chief Swan had arrived before the ambulance could whisk her away.

“Kara!” He yelled in panic as soon as he spotted her on the stretcher. Great, not it was sure to get back to Eliza.

“I’m fine, Charlie; nothing to worry about.” She tried placating the frenzied man, but the deep, sorrowful lines of his expression failed to dissipate. 

He had turned to consult with the closet EMT for a second opinion, and Kara had tuned him out to consider the inexplicable images of the event that plagued her mind. When she’d been lifted away from the damages, Kara had seen the deep dent in another part of the van—a very distinct dent that fit the contours of Lena’s shoulders, as if she had braced herself against the vehicle with enough force to damage the metal frame. 

Then there was Lena’s family, looking on from a distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury yet no hint of concern for their sister’s safety.

Kara knew there was no logical solution to explain what she had seen, just as there was no logical explanation for Kara’s super-powered being and how she absorbed solar radiation. The only thing that remotely made sense to Kara was that maybe Lena was an alien—but that didn’t make much sense to Kara either. She hadn’t seen anything about strange crash sites or alien sightings in the news. Then again, the news never reported her or Kal’s crash landing. 

Naturally, the ambulance received a police escort via Charlie, leaving Kara to feel even more ridiculous as she was unloaded from the ambulance. It was made worse as Lena simply glided through the hospital doors under her own power, leaving Kara to ground her teeth in exasperation.

There was another flurry of activity as another stretcher was brought in. A string of apologies wafted easily through the thin divider that the sheet provided. It was Adam who hastily pulled back the dividing sheet. “Kara, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, Adam. Are you alright?” Adam was human, after all; he would have been the only one to sustain injuries during the whole ordeal.

He didn’t answer, though; instead, his hands were moving wildly, and his eyes held a bottomless pit of guilt. “I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice all wrong…” He suddenly winced as a nurse began dabbing at his face. Kara looked cursory over her glasses before doing a quick X-ray check. Nothing seemed broken, at least. 

“Don’t worry about it, Adam, I’m alright, and you missed me anyway.” 

“How did you get out of the way so fast?” Kara’s jaw locked momentarily before she forced it to relax. There was no way she could out herself or even Lena— regardless of whatever Lena was. Lying was something that didn’t come entirely naturally to Kara, even if she had been doing so regularly for the past three years. She hoped against hope that Adam didn’t realize the sudden changes in her facial muscles as she conjured the lie.

“Oh, um… Lena pulled me out of the way.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Adam was only confused, though, “Who?”

“Lena Luthor— she— she was standing next to me.” Even Kara was sure the way her voice wavered was a dead giveaway to the shoddy lie, but Adam must have assumed it was because of the “near death” experience and rolled with it.

“Luthor? I didn’t see her… wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is she okay?”

“I think so, yeah, she’s around here somewhere, but they didn’t make her use a stretcher or anything.” There was too much noise around the hospital for even Kara to pinpoint the devoid sound of nothingness at that moment, though she desperately wanted to speak to Lena.

A blessing came in the face of Eliza approaching her first, lest another doctor decided to run some tests and find that her temperature ranged on the death meter for humans, her skin couldn’t be punctured, and a pressure cuff wouldn’t work on her.

She immediately pulled the divider between her and Adam back into place before undoing the neck brace for Kara, soothing her hair and the crinkle between her brows. “Did you...?” It was a low whisper, one she knew that only Kara could hear.

Whatever Lena was, Kara didn’t feel comfortable outing her even to Eliza, so instead, she nodded in response. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Eliza, I didn’t have a choice—”

“Honey, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. It was a freak accident. I’m sure no one will pay it much mind.”

A deep breath escaped Kara. “And the boy in the van is he—” Despite her own x-ray abilities, she doubted herself.

“He’s all right, just a cut on his forehead. Though, Charlie was threatening to take his license away on the way in.” They laughed at that, and a moment later, another doctor entered the room.

“Dr. Danvers, what a pleasure.” He was nearly as pale as his white coat, his brown hair falling just above his shoulders, and he had a clean-shaven face. His eyes were a dimmer version of that golden hue that Lena’s sometimes had. He also had that same devoid aura, the lack of anatomy shifting around unsettling. He must be whatever Lena was. 

“Dr. Luthor, it’s good to see you.” Eliza smiled kindly back, “I already had a look at my daughter. 

His smile widened, a set of perfect white teeth on display. “You must be Kara, then?” At her nod, he lowered the clipboard in his hands. “Ah, in that case, I’m sure Dr. Danvers conducted the utmost care.” 

Eliza and Dr. Luthor talked for a few more minutes before she kissed the top of her head, explaining she’d have to fill out some paperwork for a moment before Kara could leave. 

Once she was alone, she decided to lie in wait and rest her eyes. A few minutes passed before she heard the unmistakable sound of Lena Luthor’s being, the scent of old books and cinnamon nearly as telling as her lack of heartbeat.

“So, what’s the verdict?” came the smooth Irish lilt, causing Kara to open her eyes.

“Nothing wrong at all. Eliza is doing some paperwork before I can leave. How come you’re not strapped to a gurney?”

“Your mom’s a doctor, my dad’s a doctor. All about who you know. But don’t worry, I’m here to spring you early.”

Kara raised a skeptical brow. “How come?” 

“Well, word has it, most of the school appears to be in the waiting room, and your sister is apparently getting on the next flight out here.” Kara released a loud groan, her head falling back down onto the scratchy hospital pillow. 

“Can we speak alone?” Kara asked after another lull of silence. Lena grit her teeth and started to walk away, leaving Kara to quickly scramble out of bed to catch up. As soon as they turned a corner in a short hallway, Lena whirled back around, that dangerous glint in her eyes again. 

“What is it, Kara?” Her voice was a whisper, but the unfriendliness had returned.

“You owe me an explanation.” Kara reminded Lena, a slight pout taking over her bottom lip.

“I saved your life—I don’t owe you anything.”

“You promised.”

“Kara, you hit your head; you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kara’s temper flared for another time, her heat vision on the cuspid of exploding. “My head is perfectly fine.”

Lena glared, “What do you want from me, Kara.” The glare adorning her face and the tone of exhaustion were out of sync, total opposites of one another. Lena’s changing emotions were something far more confusing to Kara than she’d like to admit.

“I want to know the truth,” Kara whispered. “I want to know why I’m lying for you.” It was one thing to lie to keep herself and her family safe, it was another thing for Kara to lie for someone else without reason. 

“What do you think happened?” Lena was still defensive, but her words had lost the harshness of earlier.

It all came out in a rambled rush.

“You weren’t anywhere near me. You were four cars down with the rest of your family. No one else saw, no one is even talking about you being there. The van was going to hit me, and then you, and then it didn’t, and now the imprints of your hands are in the side of it, and you’re not hurt at all. Then you literally lifted the van to keep it from landing on my legs.” Kara felt it was a crazy thing to say, but people would say the same thing about her if she lifted a semi with one hand.

“You think I lifted a van off of you?” Her tone was still defensive but not as angry, as if she was keeping her most prevalent feelings at bay, “Nobody will believe you, you know.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.” She spoke each word carefully, slowly, as if her being would implode if she didn’t. It just might if her heat vision kept threatening to flare up like this.

Surprised flitted across Lena’s face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “Then why does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” Kara insisted. “I don’t like to lie, and frankly, I’m not very good at it, so there better be a good reason why I am.”

“Can’t you just thank me and get it over with?”

“Thank you.” It was a little smart-ass-y of her, but she’d learned that from Alex years ago.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No.” Lena scowled at that. 

“Why did you even bother?” Kara asked, confusion evident in the lines of her face as she stared intently at Lena.

For a brief, strange moment, Lena looked vulnerable, as if confused by her own actions.

“I don’t know,” She whispered, and with that, she turned and walked away.

Kara stood there a few moments later before she heard a familiar heartbeat. “Honey, there you are.”

“Sorry, Eliza, I was talking to Lena Luthor. She came to check if I was alright, and we took a walk.”

“Lena Luthor?” Kara realized with startled clarity that she’d have to craft a different lie to Eliza.

Rao help me. “Yeah, she was worried about the whole ordeal. She managed to sneak by the apparent crowd in the waiting room to come see me.”

“Ah, well, we’re all ready to go. Chinese?”

Kara nodded happily before they made for the exit, a thought suddenly halting her in her steps, “Please tell me, Eliza, that Alex isn’t hopping on a plane?”

Eliza let out a sigh, a fleeting laugh leaving her. “Thankfully, I was able to talk her out of it. You might want to call her later though.” 

Kara let out a loud groan at the prospect of dealing with a distraught Alex Danvers, which only served to make Eliza let out a good-natured laugh once more. “I think the world might just be out to get me.”

“You’ll be alright, sweetheart. She’s just your being sister; there is no stopping her when she gets riled up. I won’t be surprised if she takes a flight up here anyway.”

Kara shook her head, quickly shooting Alex a text letting her know she’d call after dinner.

True to Lena’s words, the waiting room was nearly bursting with Forks’ High School students. She wasn’t friends with most of them, but Winn and Nia converged on her quickly, with James slowly following suit. She quickly found herself enveloped in a bear hug from Winn and Nia, and she was mindful of her strength as she wrapped her arms around both of them. Kara was so focused on not crushing them to dust that it nearly drained out the incessant chatter around her. Eliza knew her, though, and gently touched her back, urging her onward as she promised to talk to them soon. She gave the group an awkward wave of departure as they made for the glass doors to get to the safety of Eliza’s car. 

Once in the car, on the way to the only Chinese place in town, Kara noticed that Eliza kept looking at her worriedly. Once they arrived at the restaurant, Eliza angled herself towards Kara immediately after cutting the engine. 

“Are you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet; it’s not like you.” Kara smiled softly at the maternal care that Eliza offered freely and without stipulations. Kara wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it.

“I’m alright, just a little shaken up. I wasn’t expecting something like this to happen.” Kara ducked her head, anxiously toying with the loose thread of her sweater sleeve. “Are you sure you’re not mad—I know that you and Jeremiah always told me to hide—”

“Kara, sweetie,” Eliza gently cut her off, pulling Kara’s hand into her own. “I’m not mad at you. Not at all. It was an accident; you couldn’t have known something like that would happen. If you hadn’t been there, someone could have gotten seriously hurt. I’m proud of you, okay?”

“Okay,” Kara echoed, giving Eliza a watery smile.

“Extra potstickers?”

“Yes, please.” 

***

After the two Danvers arrived home and finished their takeout, Kara retreated to her room to call Alex. As expected, she was near hysterics—as much as Alex Danvers could be—and had, in fact, already booked a plane ticket. It took Kara nearly forty minutes to convince Alex to cancel her flight, which resulted in a stern talking to about how Kara needed to be more careful. 

Kara found it hard to pay attention to nonetheless, she was rapidly becoming consumed with the mystery of Lena Luthor. 

It was the first night she’d dreamed of Lena Luthor—the first night she hadn’t had a nightmare about the destruction of her planet in years. 

Chapter Text

“You like to claim that you’re in charge of the world, but it’s as if the world hasn’t noticed and it does whatever it pleases in spite of you. You claim the sky is blue, but almost on a daily basis it betrays you.”

- Trish Mercer

In Kara’s dreams, it was dark. The only light seemed to be emanating from Lena’s skin. She couldn’t see Lena’s face, only her back as she retreated from Kara, leaving her in an all too familiar blackness of despair. No matter how fast Kara ran, she couldn’t catch up to Lena. It was as if her powers had been zapped from her cells, as if she was stuck under the restraints of a red sun. Kara would call for Lena, but she never stopped—never turned around. Kara would wake up troubled with the occasional scorch mark on the ceiling. It reminded her all too well of all the nights she’d wake up screaming during the first two years on Earth, of the times Eliza would come sit with her in bed until she calmed down. Of all the times she’d accidentally blown a hole into the roof and had quietly helped Jeremiah patch up the roof time and time and again. Eventually, she’d started sleeping in her glasses, trying against hope to suppress her heat vision. Only in the past year had the nightmares died down enough for her to forgo the glasses when it came down to sleeping, but now the nightmares were replaced with strange dreams of Lena Luthor. It was nearly every night, but Lena was always on the periphery, never within Kara’s reach. 

The month that followed the accident was uneasy, tense, and, at first, embarrassing.

To Kara’s dismay, she found herself the center of attention for the rest of the first week. Adam Grant seemed friendly enough, but becoming impossible as he followed her around, obsessed with making amends. Kara tried to convince him to drop it, that she only wanted to forget about the whole thing—but he remained insistent. He followed Kara between classes and tried to sit at the crowded lunch table with her friends. Winn and even Mike were less friendly towards Adam than they were to each other. After Mike and Winn barred Adam from sitting at the table, he tried to weasel his way in instead. Nia and Winn had then gone off on Mike about how arrogant and selfish he was. He sulked off after that. No one seemed concerned about Lena, though Kara had explained over and over again how Lena was the true hero—how she had pulled Kara out of the way and had nearly been crushed, too. Kara tried to be convincing. Maggie, Mike, Winn, and everyone else always commented that they hadn’t even seen Lena there till the van was pulled away. Winn seemed the least convinced—he wasn’t critical in any way, but there was something in his eyes that made Kara worry that he wasn’t the only one unconvinced.

Kara wondered to herself why no one else had seen Lena standing so far away before impossibly being next to Kara and “saving her life.” With chagrin, Kara realized why—no one else was as aware of Lena as she seemed to be. No one seemed to watch Lena the way Kara did. Lena Luthor was never surrounded by crowds of curious bystanders eager for her firsthand account. People avoided Lena like they always had. The Luthors and the Rojas sat at their same table unbothered as always, never eating and only talking amongst themselves.

None of them—Especially Lena—glanced Kara’s way anymore. When Lena sat next to her in class, as far from her as the table would allow, she seemed totally unaware of Kara’s presence. Only now and then, when Lena’s fist would suddenly ball up—skin stretched even whiter over the bones—did Kara wonder if she wasn’t entirely as oblivious as she appeared. Lena seemed to wish that she hadn’t pulled Kara from the path of Adam’s van—there were no other conclusions Kara could come to. 

Kara wanted to talk to her, and the day after the accident, she tried. The last time she had seen Lena, outside of the ER, Lena was furious, and Kara was confused and upset. She was still upset that Lena wouldn’t trust her with the truth even though she was keeping her promise to tell no one. But Lena had displayed something inhuman, no matter what she was. Overnight, Kara’s frustration faded into understanding. She knew better than anyone what it was like to keep something hidden, to be afraid of someone finding out. She knew how hard it was to trust someone with something so life-altering. 

Lena was already seated when Kara got to Biology, looking straight ahead. She sat down, expecting Lena to turn toward her. She showed no sign that she realized Kara was there.

“Hi, Lena,” Kara said softly, trying to show Lena she wasn’t going to make a scene or anything of that nature. 

She turned her head a fraction towards Kara without meeting her gaze, nodded once, and then looked the other way.

That was the last contact she’d had with Lena, though there she was, a foot from Kara, every day. Kara watched her sometimes, unable to stop herself—from a distance, though, in the cafeteria or parking lot. Kara would watch as her seafoam eyes would mesh into golden that grew perceptibly darker day by day. In class, Kara tried to stop giving Lena notice that she existed just as she showed Kara. But that wasn’t Kara’s forte, and she often failed, occasionally finding herself watching Lena without her own consent. Kara was becoming miserable over something so inane. The dreams continued.

Despite Kara’s misgivings of the truth, the tenor of her text messages alerted Alex that something was wrong, and she called a few times, worried. Kara tried her best to convince her it was the weather that had Kara down and that she missed the sunshine that National City provided.

Mike, at least, was pleased by the apparent distance between Kara and her lab partner. Kara could see he’d been worried that Lena’s daring rescue might have impressed Kara and was relieved that it seemed to have the opposite effect. Mike grew more confident sitting on the edge of her table to talk before Biology class started, ignoring Lena as entirely as she ignored them.

The snow had washed away for good after that one icy day, leaving James disappointed he’d never gotten his proper snowball fight, but pleased Winn’s beach trip would soon be possible. The rain continued its heavy onslaught, though, and the weeks passed slowly.

Nia made Kara aware of another event looming on the horizon—Nia called the first Tuesday of March to ask Kara’s permission to invite Winn to the girl’s choice spring dance in two weeks. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind… you weren’t planning to ask him?” Nia persisted when Kara said she didn’t mind in the least, that she viewed Winn solely as a friend. 

“No, Nia, I’m not going,” Kara assured—dancing was an ability that even Kara didn’t have, if breaking Kenny’s nose back in National City was anything to go off of… among three other boys who ended up with broken noses before Kenny. “And I know it’s not really any of my business… but I think you should ask Brainy instead.” 

Nia seemed to bypass Kara’s suggestion instead, making a weak attempt to convince Kara, “Come on, it’ll be really fun.”

“You’ll have more fun if you ask Brainy, y’know, Winn is great, but I’ve seen how you and Brainy are around each other.”

Nia groaned loudly, and Kara heard what she suspected was Nia falling back against her bed in a huff of air. “I don’t know Kara... what if he—what if he doesn’t like me because—well, you know—the whole trans thing—”

“Nia, breathe,” Kara smiled softly, shaking her head at the oblivious idiot who happened to be Nia. “Trust me, that is a concern that doesn’t exist on Brainy’s list. He likes you because you’re you.”

“Ugh, fine, but if this backfires, I’ll send Winn after you.”

The next day, Kara noticed that James was even more quiet than usual, and that Nia had been anxiously bouncing her foot during Spanish. Kara was afraid to ask why—if Nia thought she had a thing for Winn, she was worried something about it had disheartened James and made Nia nervous.

Kara’s fears were strengthened during lunch when James sat as far from Winn as possible, chatting animatedly with Maggie. That was weird, and then Winn was unusually quiet. 

Despite not having Biology with Kara, Winn walked with her to class solemnly before stopping outside the door and turning fully to Kara. “So… James asked me to the spring dance.” Kara’s brows raised in surprise,

“That’s great!” Kara’s voice was genuine and enthusiastic, but Winn scuffed his shoe against the floor. “I know James has his eyes on you. You guys will have a blast.”

Winn ducked his head further, and Kara could hear his heart floundering around in his ribcage. “I told him I had to think about it.”

“Why would you do that?” Kara was confused. She knew James liked Winn and was pretty confident Winn liked James back.

Winn’s face was a flaming red as he looked back up, awkwardly scratching at his growing stubble of facial hair. 

I was wondering if… well, if you might be planning to ask me.” Kara paused, her jaw going slack for a moment as her hand tightened around the strap of her backpack. Awkwardly, she looked into the classroom to avoid Winn’s eyes, only to notice Lena’s head tilt reflexively in their direction. 

“Winn, I think you should go with James.” Kara chewed on the inside of her cheek as she turned back to Winn. 

Winn’s eyes jumped in surprise, though, throwing a glance towards Lena at her desk. “Oh. Oh! Oh my God, you’re a lesbian—that’s why you’re not into me—”

Kara’s eyebrows skyrocketed, “What—”

“This—this is—this—this is great Kara!”

“I’m not gay!” She whispered, exasperated, suddenly and acutely aware that Lena was listening.

Winn let out a barking laugh, and his dopey smile returned in full force as if Kara’s rejection didn’t matter anymore. “Right.”

Kara shook her head, more confused. “What do you mean, ‘right,’ Winn?”

He just shook his head before inclining it towards the classroom door, “You’re totally into Lena Luthor, aren’t you?’

“I am not! What makes you—” The bell rang suddenly, making Kara jump at the loud shrill before Winn wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before walking off with his dimpled grin. Kara let out a groan of annoyance before entering class and taking her seat. 

Of course, Mike Matthews was already waiting for her at her and Lena’s desk. His smile was arrogant, and Kara had a suspicion about where this conversation was about to go. As Kara sat down, she decided to get to the point immediately.

“I’m sorry, Mike, but I’m not going to the dance with you—not to mention, aren’t the girls supposed to ask the guys out?” His smile faded immediately, and he looked around awkwardly. 

“Did you already ask someone?” Kara wondered if Lena noticed the way Mike’s eyes flickered in her direction.

“No,” Kara assured him, but the combination of Winn’s words and Mike’s futile glances at Lena had Kara starting to spiral. “I’m not going to the dance at all, actually.”

“Why not?” Mike demanded.

Kara just wanted out of this awkward conversation and didn’t want the whole student body finding out she couldn’t dance, so she devised a new plan. “I’m going to Seattle that Saturday.” Kara suddenly needed to get out of town to get her mind off things—off certain people—and this seemed to be the perfect opportunity. 

“Can’t you go some other weekend?”

“I’m sorry, no. I already had it planned before I found out about the dance.” Kara explained, her heart thundering loudly in her own ears. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Imra is into you. You should wait till she asks you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mike mumbled, turning dejectedly to walk back to his seat.

Kara closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers across her temples as everything seemed too loud again. When Mr. Carr began talking, Kara signed and opened her eyes to try and brave the intense, shrill noises.

Immediately, Kara noticed Lena was staring at her curiously, that same familiar edge of frustration even more distinct in her black eyes.

Kara stared back, surprised and expecting Lena to look away quickly. Instead, Lena continued to gaze at Kara with probing intensity into her eyes, as if trying to figure out the universes’ greatest mystery. There was no question of Kara looking away. She seemed to be entrapped in Lena’s gaze. Kara’s hands were gripping her own thighs tightly, mirroring Lena’s previous posture. 

“Ms. Luthor?” the teacher called, startling Kara internally as she realized that she’d tuned the word out again by listening intently to Lena Luthor’s being. 

“The Krebs Cycle,” Lena answered, seeming reluctant as she turned to look at Mr. Carr.

Kara looked down at her textbook, trying desperately to escape the intensity of Lena’s gaze. Nervously, Kara pulled her hair over her shoulder, creating an artificial barrier between them as Kara’s senses threatened to overload again. Kara felt a strange rush of emotions that she couldn’t place, that confused her— all just because Lena Luthor looked at her for the first time in half a dozen weeks. It was a strange, unhealthy level of influence that washed over Kara in a haze of longevity. 

Kara was rapidly becoming overwhelmed by these strange feelings. She was used to Krypton’s ways— the lack of finding love and relationships organically, whether platonic or not. The Birthing Matrix system handled all of that. Your whole life was planned before you were born. Your place in the world, your friends, they were predetermined. There were no interrelation variables on Krypton. However, Kara’s heart was slowly thawing from the Kryptonian ice and becoming more and more human by the day. 

Kara tried very hard to not be aware of Lena for the rest of the class hour, and since that proved to be impossible, Kara wanted to keep it under wraps that she was aware of her. When the bell rang at last, Kara turned her back to Lena to gather her things, expecting Lena to glide out of the room immediately, as usual. 

“Kara?” Her voice shouldn’t have been so familiar to Kara, as if she’d known the sound of it all her life rather than a few short weeks. Kara turned slowly, unwillingly, as a blush started to find its way into her cheeks.

“Yes?” Kara’s voice didn’t sound like her own, as if alienated from her own body.

Lena must have noticed, her lips twitching as if she was fighting a smile. 

Kara closed her eyes, inhaling deeply to stilt her own senses before exhaling and opening her eyes again. “What do you want, Lena?” It wasn’t accusatory, but her frustration had leaked marginally into her tone.

“I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere, which was a shocking change of pace to Kara. “I’ve been very rude, I know. But it’s better this way, truly.” Lena’s face was severe yet entirely neutral all the same.

“I don’t know what you mean, Lena,” Kara responded softly, feigning aloofness she didn’t have. 

“It’s better if we’re not friends,” Lena explained, her voice still a soft whisper, “Trust me.” Kara tilted her head. She’d heard that many times before—she knew the undercurrent of truth that was masked by such a vague statement. 

“Do you regret it?” Kara asked unthinkingly.

“Regret?” she seemed caught off guard by the sudden question. “Regret for what?”

“For not letting the van crush me.” Kara hated to say it and knew that it was a ridiculous concept to her, but the question had Lena looking astonished. She stared at Kara in disbelief.

When she finally spoke, Lena’s voice sounded almost mad. “You think I regret saving your life?”

Kara wanted to scoff at the ridiculousness of it. She was invulnerable and sent to this closed-minded planet that would leave her family dead and her stuck in a lab to be experimented on for the rest of her life. “I know you do.”

“You don’t know anything.” Kara decided she wasn’t mad, that it wasn’t anger, but rather a sort of disbelief radiating from the youngest Luthor. 

Kara turned back away, feeling that dangerous heat rising behind her eyes again. She gathered her books quickly, stood, and walked out the door. Kara meant to dramatically sweep out of the classroom, but she was notoriously clumsy, and her mind was too riddled with a Lena Luthor to correct herself; of course, Kara tripped, and her books went spiraling all over the floor. 

Kara stood there a moment with her eyes closed, listening to the snickering of passing students, before she opened her eyes to bend down and gather her belongings. Only, there she was, standing there with the books already stacked in a neat pile. Lena handed them to Kara, her face that same neutral mask.

“Thank you,” Kara said, knowing her face was red and not from the threat of heat vision this time. Embarrassment was another familiar thing to Kara these days.

“You’re welcome.” Again, Lena’s voice and her expression were in dissonance with one another.

Desperate to escape, Kara straightened up and turned around, hightailing it toward the gym and away from Lena.

Gym was brutal. They had moved on to basketball. Everyone was well aware not to pass the ball to Kara, which was good, but she did fall down a lot. Kara was clumsy at times, but sports? Her clumsiness was all in her design. It was too risky to excel in something and far too dangerous for the people around her. She was already sure she’d left a crack in the gym floor by simply jumping too hard. But today, Kara’s clumsiness was mostly genuine. Her mind was filled with intense golden and green eyes, images of Lena Luthor’s striking face taunting her. Today, she was dangerously clumsy. 

And it was all because a certain Luthor wouldn’t leave her alone.

It was a relief to leave the gym, to escape it all. She had to force herself to keep a human pace instead of super speeding to her truck. Kara’s truck had suffered from the incident, but not badly. She had to replace the taillights, and there was a significant dent in the left fender that she could fix herself but hadn’t had the capacity to. Adam’s mom— Ms. Grant— had to sell the van for spare parts.

Just as Kara was approaching the truck, she nearly jumped out of her skin at the dark figure leaning against the truck before she realized it was Brainy. 

“Hey, Brainy,” Kara called as she approached. 

“Hello, Kara.” 

“What’s up?” she asked as she fiddled with the key to unlock the truck, noticing the nervous uptick of his heartbeat.

“I require your advice about something.” Kara slung her backpack into the passenger seat before turning back to Brainy and nodding her head, urging him to continue. 

“I am sure that you are aware that I... like… Nia. However, it is the girls’ choice dance, and she has not asked me. I fear there is only a twenty percent chance of her asking and was wondering if you would accompany her in my steed.” 

“You’re so weird, Brainy.” Brainy didn’t take the teasing to heart; he only placed his hands behind his back as he gave an awkward smile. “I’m sure Nia is going to ask you; just give it some more time. Plus, I won’t be in town. I’m going to Seattle that day.”

“Oh. Are you sure your calculations are correct that she will ask me, Kara?”

“Brainy, I don’t have to do any sort of calculation to know that Nia likes you and you like Nia. Just let it happen.” 

“But— “

“No buts! Just chill out. Hold off only any of your strange calculations and get outta here and wait it out. Your brain is too big for your head sometimes.”

Brainy huffed and shook his head with an appreciative smile before sulking off towards his car. Kara heard a low laugh and didn’t have to turn to know it was Lena walking past the front of her truck. But she did turn and saw Lena doing just that, looking straight forward with her lips pressed into a straight line.

Kara gritted her teeth, hopped into her truck, and slammed her door a little too hard, causing the truck’s frame to rattle. Kara immediately started reversing into the forming line after starting the deafening engine, but Lena was already in her silver car, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of Kara, effectively cutting her off. She stopped there, waiting for her family; Kara could see the four of them walking toward the car but still by the cafeteria door. 

Kara, feeling a little too much like Alex Danvers in that moment, considered taking out the back of the silver Volvo with her truck before deciding that was a ridiculous thing to think about at all. Kara knew there was a line forming behind her and was anxiously gripping the steering wheel. Kara glanced into the rearview mirror, seeing Adam behind her in his new Sentra, waving. Kara didn’t wave back. In fact, she pretended she hadn’t seen it while focusing on anywhere except the car in front of her.

Suddenly, in her avoidance of everything in that moment, a knock sounded against her passenger window. Startled, she looked over to see Adam. She took a glance in her review mirror, confused as she saw his car still running with the door wide open. She leaned across the cab to roll the window down, “I’m sorry, Adam, I’m stuck behind Luthor.” Kara was already feeling embarrassed and didn’t want him to think the holdup was her fault.

“Oh, I know— I just wanted to ask you something while we’re trapped here.” He grinned.

Oh no, not again.

“Will you ask me to the spring dance?” he continued.

“I’m not going to be in town, Adam.” 

“Yeah, Mike said that.” Of course, it was Mike’s fault.

“Then why—“He shrugged abruptly.

“I was hoping you were just letting him down easy.”

 Okay, it’s definitely his fault. 

“Sorry, Adam, I really will be out of town,” Kara explained again.

“That’s alright, we still have prom.”

Before Kara could respond, he was already walking back to his car. Kara could feel the shock and utter confusion on her face at the strange events of today. She looked forward to see Sam, Andrea, Jack, and William all sliding in the Volvo. She could see in Lena’s review mirror that Lena’s eyes were undoubtedly on Kara, her body shaking with laughter, as if she had heard every word Adam had said. 

Then, suddenly, they were all in, and Lena was speeding away. Kara drove home slowly, carefully, and her mind replayed a specific conversation she had today. 

She was confused over a lot of things recently, but now, the most prevalent was what Winn had said. Sexuality wasn’t much of a big deal on Krypton, but she’d been on Earth for almost five years now. She understood the way the world worked here— mostly anyway. She was a child when she landed here; for the last four years, she’d been working on the assumption that one day, she’d end up with a man. She had dated Kenny briefly in National City before his tragic death. Now, the stars were misaligned. Kara knew she didn’t know nearly enough about Lena Luthor to like her in any sense of the way, but she couldn’t deny that something about her was drawing Kara in. She needed to talk to Alex. 

Before she could even set her bag down after walking through the door, her phone rang. She tossed the bag to the floor, sighing with relief when she saw that it was Alex calling.

She flopped onto the couch as she answered, “Hey Alex.”

“Hey to you too. You sound oddly defeated. What’s up?”

“No, no—what were you calling about?” Kara deflected, not wanting the attention on herself quite yet.

Alex seemed to deliberate for a moment, an exhale of air reaching Kara’s ears before Alex decided to let it slide for the time being. “Just calling to let you know I aced all my exams. They offered to place me in a more difficult course if I wanted.”

“Alex! That’s great news!” Kara enthused, smiling over her sister’s achievements, before something clicked in her mind. “Alex… that’s not something you usually call about; what’s the real reason?”

Alex let out a grunt; Kara could imagine the furrow between Alex’s eyebrows as if she were there herself. “Honestly? I wanted to check on you. You’ve been a little distant lately.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kara sighed, closing her eyes, “I’m sorry, Alex.” 

“Kara… I know you’ve been feeling a lot of things lately—I know all of this has been very difficult—but is something else bothering you?” Alex’s voice was soft and careful, as if Kara could shatter into a million pieces suddenly and all at once.

Kara would if she thought too deeply.

“I… I had a friend say something to me today—there’s so much happening, but this one… this one stupid thing just keeps repeating itself over and over again in my head, Alex.”

Alex listened patiently, something that Kara was eternally grateful for. Alex’s comfort and understanding seemed to be the band-aids keeping Kara taped together. 

“I don’t know what it means for me—about me. I feel more lost than I already did. I know that you and Eliza… and Jeremiah… try—tried—your best to make me feel like I belong, but I’ve always felt out of place. I’m an outsider. And no one will ever truly understand that, not even Kal. He grew up here. He’s just as human as everyone else. But I’m… I’m not, Alex.” 

“Kara...”

“I don’t want your pity, Alex—”

“It’s not pity, Kara. It’s love. You’re my family, I care about you, and I love you. I wish I could make all your pain and suffering vanish, I would in a heartbeat. I hate to see you like this, so—”

“Broken?”

“No, Kara. You’re not broken. You’re not something that needs to be fixed.” Kara could feel the burn of tears welling up in her eyes, and she sniffled quietly. “You’re just a person who’s gone through a great deal of pain and heartache. I know things seem glum right now, and you know I’m not one to believe in that whole ‘everything heals with time’ bullshit, but I promise you, Kara, that one day the burden of the cards you were dealt won’t feel so suffocating.” Kara felt the tears track down her cheeks and could hear the echo of a tear splashing onto the screen of her phone. She sniffled, and they sat in silence for a long while before Alex spoke again.

“Kara, what brought this on?” Alex was unnervingly gentle with Kara. It was hard to believe in moments like these that Alex had ended up in juvie and then jail multiple times for kicking someone’s ass in defense of Kara.

“My friend Winn… he kind of said something that implied—okay, not implied, he actually said it—but he said that, well, I don’t know, Alex—”

“Kara, breathe,” Alex instructed, and Kara complied, taking a deep, shaky breath as more tears fell.

“Sorry… he basically came to the conclusion that I… that I was gay and implied I… liked… someone.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she pulled her legs into her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she set the phone aside and put Alex on speaker. 

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Conflicted, scared, like he might be right—not about liking the person, but y’know.”

“Why scared? I know you don’t talk about Krypton often, but from what I understand, Krypton didn’t really care about sexuality and stuff? You’ve never seen bothered by other people—”

“I’m not bothered by it at all. And you’re right. Krypton didn’t care. But this is Earth, Alex. I’ve been here long enough to know how this planet reacts to certain things, how people react.”

“Are you worried about how Mom and I would react if you were gay?”

Kara was silent, not voicing that specific fear she had mulled over on the way home.

“Kara…”

“Yeah?”

“Mom and I would love you no matter what, and so would Jeremiah if he were here. This doesn’t change anything. You’re still our Kara, just Kara.”

“Thank you, Alex.” And she meant it wholeheartedly. She may have failed in her mission to protect and raise Kal-El, but she wasn’t sure what she would do on Earth without Alex Danvers.

“How are you feeling?” she inquired.

Kara’s tears had dried up considerably, and she did feel better now. “I feel okay, a little shaken but better. I think Winn might be right, Alex.”

Alex tried for lightheartedness, “Well, in that case, I hope to meet your girlfriend soon.”

Kara groaned loudly, “Alex shut it. She’s not my girlfriend, and I don’t even like her. She just happens to be very beautiful and enigmatic.”

“Soooo, tall dark and handsome?” Alex teased.

“Not so much on that tall part, but yeah, I guess so.”

“Sorry, not everyone can be as tall as you, Kara.”

“Alex,” she groaned, “I’m not even that tall.”

“When was the last time you met someone taller than you?” 

“Five foot nine is not that tall. You’re just upset you’re shorter than me.” Alex grumbled, and the topic quickly changed.

***

When Kara retreated to her room while waiting for dinner to finish, she sat on her bed with her legs crossed, deep in thought. She was trying to analyze every word Lena had spoken today. 

What did it mean, it was better if we weren’t friends?

Kara’s stomach twisted as she realized what Lena must have meant. If Winn thought she liked Lena, maybe Lena had come to the same conclusion; she didn’t want to lead Kara on… so they couldn’t even be friends… because Lena wasn’t interested in Kara at all. 

Of course, she wasn’t interested in me, Kara thought bitterly, unsure of the reason why she had such a visceral reaction to the thought. Kara’s eyes had that familiar sting. Kara was an alien, but no one outside of her family knew that, of course, she wasn’t interesting. And Lena was. Interesting… and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful…

Kara shook her head at the thoughts, trying to banish them to no avail. 

That was fine. Kara could leave her alone. She would leave her alone. She would get through the sentence of purgatory that high school offered and then go to some college in a sunny place with lots of palm trees and find a decent job. 

***

“Eliza?” She inquired when they were almost done with dinner.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Um, I wanted to know if it would be okay if I went to Seattle for the day a week from Saturday?” Kara anxiously pulled at her fingers under the table. 

“How come?” Eliza sounded surprised, as if she hadn’t expected Kara to go too far from the safety of Forks.

“Well, I wanted to get a few books—the library here is pretty limited—and maybe look at some clothes.” Kara still had her savings from working several summers at Noonans, a small café type place in National City. The truck did cost a bit in the gas department, but Kara was still comfortable enough to do some spending.

“The truck probably doesn’t get very good gas mileage—I assume you’re not flying, right?” Eliza joked, and Kara shook her head with mirth.

“As much as I would like to save myself the drive when I could fly there in two seconds, you know I wouldn’t endanger myself like that.”

“I know, honey. You going alone?” She asked, and Kara couldn’t tell if it was usual motherly suspicion about a secret boyfriend—or girlfriend, Kara realized—or if Eliza was just worried about car trouble.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I know you know how to navigate a big city, I trust you won’t get lost. Just be careful, alright?”

Kara nodded her ascent and thanked Eliza.

“Will you be back in time for the dance?”

Of course, in a small town, Eliza would know when the high school dances were.

“No, you remember what happened to Kenny? Better not have a repeat of sophomore year while I attempt to dance.” They laughed over that before quickly finishing the remnants of dinner and cleaning up the kitchen together. 

***

The next morning, when Kara pulled into the parking lot, she deliberately parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. Getting out of the cab, Kara fumbled with the key and fell into a puddle at her feet. As Kara bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it before Kara could. She jerked upright in surprise. Lena Luthor was right next to her, leaning casually against Kara’s truck. 

“How do you do that?” Kara inquired, having never heard Lena’s approach, which was something new and weird for her.

“Do what?” Lena held out the key as she spoke, dropping them into Kara’s palm as she went to reach for it.

“Appear out of thin air.”

“Kara, it’s not my fault you’re unobservant.” Her voice was quiet as usual, velvet and smooth.

Kara frowned; it’s not my fault your body exudes no sounds like a dang statue.

Lena’s eyes were light again today, that luring green with the occasional flicker of deep, golden honey color. Kara had to look down to reassemble her now-tangled thoughts.

“Why the traffic jam yesterday?” Kara inquired, trying to bridge a topic before the silence became awkward.

“That was for Adam’s sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance.” She smirked.

“You!” Kara gasped, a flicker of heat appearing behind her eyes before dissipating as quickly as it had come.

“And I’m not pretending you don’t exist.” Lena continued.

“So you’re trying to irritate me to death with teenage boys? Because Adam’s van didn’t do the job?” Kara wanted to take it back immediately, the words out of character for her, but it was too late: anger flashed in Lena’s now solid, tawny-colored eyes. Her lips pressed into a thin line, the smirk and humor gone. 

“Kara, you are utterly absurd.” Lena’s voice sounded cold, and the heat behind Kara’s eyes started to rise again. Quickly, Kara turned just before her eyes began glowing with the heat of her irritation. She started to walk away, blinking rapidly until she felt the glow fade away, the heat dissipating along with it. 

“Wait,” Lena called, but Kara kept sloshing through the rain. In the next instance, Lena was next to her, easily keeping pace with Kara’s long strides.

“I’m sorry that was rude,” Lena said as they walked, but Kara ignored her, trying to keep the promise she made to herself. Avoid Lena, stay out of Lena’s life. “I’m not saying it isn’t true, though I’m not sure, but it was rude to say it anyway.”

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Kara complained, confused by reality and what she thought she knew about the situation. She was supposed to be avoiding Lena. Lena said they shouldn’t be friends, and here they were, walking side by side and talking. 

“I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me,” Lena softly laughed as if her humor had suddenly recovered miraculously.

“Do you have a multiple personality disorder?” Kara bit her tongue. Why was she so angry? Anger wasn’t like Kara. It didn’t come naturally to her. Everything seemed to be bubbling over recently, but her mind was a jumbled mess. It was too much for her to parse through.

“You’re doing it again.” Lena’s voice was surprisingly calm, still soft.

Kara signed, somewhat defeated, “What do you want to ask?”

“I was wondering if, a week from Saturday—you know, the day of the spring dance—”

Kara blanched, thinking about the conversation with Winn that Lena must have overheard, “Are you trying to be funny?” Kara interrupted, feeling as if she was about to be mocked. 

She whirled around to face Lena. Kara had to look down—Lena was several inches shorter than her—and watched as Lena looked up, her face immediately drenched from the rain. She was still as beautiful as ever, her dark hair sticking to the sides of her face, the raindrops sliding over the smooth expanse of alabaster skin. Her eyes were now striking green that contrasted deeply with her raven hair. She was breathtaking. 

Lena’s eyes were wickedly amused. “Will you please allow me to finish?” Kara bit her lip, clasping her hands behind her back, trying desperately to move past the strange beauty Lena had as she stood in the rain, perfectly alluring and unaffected by the elements. 

“I heard you say you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride.”

Oh. She wasn’t being mocked, and Lena We Shouldn’t Be Friends Luthor, was offering her a ride. That was unexpected.

“What?” Kara voiced her confusion, not sure if she was grasping this conversation properly.

“Do you want a ride to Seattle?”

“With you?” She needed to double-check that she understood what was happening here.

“Myself, obviously.” Lena smiled with amusement, and Kara was nearly blinded by her perfect teeth.

She was still stunned, but now, she couldn’t tell if it was the conversation or the person she was talking to. “Why?”

“Well, I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks, and, to be honest, I’m not sure if your truck can make it.”

“My truck works just fine. Thank you for the concern.” It was the only thing Kara could manage to say, so she started to walk again, her anger having entirely dissipated and instead replaced with other feelings she didn’t know the name of.

“But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?” She matched Kara’s pace again. 

“I’m not sure how that concerns you.” Stupid, shiny Volvo.

“The wasting of finite resources is everyone’s business.”

Of course, Lena cared about the planet’s resources. She wished she could say the same about Krypton. 

“Honestly, Lena.” Kara felt a thrill go through her as she said her name, and she hated it. “I can’t keep up with you,” she admitted, “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.”

“I said it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.” Kara realized she had stopped walking again. They were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, and Lena’s face was mostly clear of rain now. That certainly didn’t help Kara’s clarity of thought.

“It would be more… advisable for you not to be my friend,” Lena explained. “But I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Kara.” Lena’s eyes were intense as she uttered that last sentence, her voice velvety. Kara couldn’t remember how to breathe, and she was nearly sure that if it wasn’t for her insane Kryptonian lung capacity, she would have asphyxiated herself then and there. “Will you go with me to Seattle?” Lena asked, still intense. Kara couldn’t speak; entirely dumbfounded, she nodded.

Lena smiled briefly before her face became serious. “You really should stay away from me,” she warned. “I’ll see you in class.” Lena abruptly turned and walked back the way they’d came.

Chapter Text

“Morality is not just any old topic in psychology but close to our conception of the meaning of life. Moral goodness is what gives each of us the sense that we are worthy human beings.”

- Steven Pinker

Kara made her way to English in a daze, that she hadn’t even realized when she first walked in that class had already started.

“Thank you for joining us, Miss Danvers,” Mr. J’onzz said in a displeased tone.

Kara flushed and hurried to her seat.

It wasn’t until the end of class that Kara realized Mike wasn’t sitting in his usual seat next to her. Kara felt a twinge of guilt but tried to move past it. Mike wasn’t the most likable person; he was everything opposite of what Kara believed in. 

Winn met Kara at the door like usual. He was himself, not having bat an eye at Kara’s rejection in the wake of the realization that had put Kara in a tailspin. He gained more enthusiasm as he talked about the weather report for the weekend. The rain was apparently set to take a minor break, which might make his beach trip possible. Kara was also eager about it, responding in kind about her desire to do some whale watching.

The rest of the mornings passed in a blur. It was difficult for Kara to believe that she hadn’t just imagined what Lena had said, or the way her eyes looked. Kara silently wondered if it all was a rather convincing dream that she’d confused for reality. That seemed almost more probable than appealing to Lena on any level.

So, Kara was impatient and frightened as she and Nia entered the cafeteria. She wanted to see Lena’s face, to see if she’d gone back to the cold, indifferent person Kara had known for the last several weeks. Or, if by some miracle, Kara had really heard what she thought she heard that morning. Nia, Winn, James, and Brainy all babbled out about their dance plans—Kara realized that Maggie was nowhere to be found and focused her attention just enough to ask about it.

“Oh, apparently, she’s really sick. Her aunt took her out of school. She lives on the rez though, and her aunt was talking about her transferring to the rez school.” Nia was frowning as she spoke.

“The rez?” Kara asked.

“Yeah, the Quileute Reservation. Her mom is native, and after her dad and mom kicked her out, her aunt took her in and moved back here. I’ll spare the details, though, not my place and all that.” Winn tacked on, making Kara frown. She wasn’t going to pry; it wasn’t her business, but she couldn’t imagine any reason that would warrant Maggie being kicked out.

Quickly, though, conversation resumed, and Kara’s attention was diverted again. She looked over at Lena’s table, disappointment knifing through her. The other four were there, but Lena was absent. Kara bowed her head, sulking as the conversation continued. It was a few minutes before Nia gently nudged her, and she looked up in question.

“Lena Luthor is staring at you again,” Lena’s name broke through Kara’s abstraction. “I wonder why she’s sitting alone today.”

Kara’s head followed Nia’s gaze to see Lena, smiling softly, staring at her from the empty table across the cafeteria from where she usually sat. Once she’d caught Kara’s eye, she raised one hand and motioned for Kara to join her. As Kara stared in disbelief, Lena smirked.

“Does she mean you?” Nia asked with abundant excitement in her voice.

“Maybe she needs help with her Biology homework,” Kara muttered for her own benefit, knowing that Lena needed no such help but finding it hard to believe today was happening. “Um, I uh, I should go see what she wants.”

Kara stood up, but of course, Winn had listened and watched the exchange. “Go get ’em, tiger!” He cheered enthusiastically, making Kara blush as she walked toward the table.

When she reached Lena’s table, Kara stood, unsure, behind the chair across from her.

“Why don’t you sit with me today?” Lena was smiling, but her face was welcoming and kind. Kara sat down automatically, watching Lena with suspicion. Kara found it even harder to believe that someone so beautiful could be real. She was afraid that Lena might disappear in a sudden puff of smoke and that she would wake up. 

Lena seemed to be waiting for Kara to say something.

“This is different,” Kara finally managed, her mind an intangible mess again.

“Well…” Lena paused before the rest of her words followed in a rush, “I’m not much of a religious person, but since I’m going to hell anyway, I might as well do it thoroughly.” Kara waited for Lena to say something that made sense, not following the words without the needed context.

“I have no idea what you mean, you know that right?” Kara eventually pointed out.

“I know,” her lips turned up in closed mouth smile before she changed the subject. “I thought your friends would be angry with me for stealing you away, but they seem jubilant over it.”

What high school student uses ‘jubilant’ in a sentence?

“A few of them have certain off-the-wall assumptions.”

“I may not give you back, though,” Lena replied with a strange glint in her eyes.

Kara gulped. Not from fear, but the ever-consuming confusion that seemed to be present.

“You look worried.”

“No,” Kara said, surprised as her voice broke over the word, before she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Surprised, actually.”

What had changed?

“I told you—I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So, I’m giving up.” Her lips were still upturned in that slight smile, but her ocher eyes were serious. 

“Giving up?” Kara repeated in confusion.

“Yes—I’m giving up on trying to be good. I’m just going to do what I want now and let the chips fall where they may.” Lena’s smile had faded as she explained, a hard edge creeping into her tone.

“You lost me again.”

That breathtaking smile appeared—the one from the parking lot—full of perfect teeth and joy.

“I always say too much when I’m talking to you—that’s one of my problems.”

“Don’t worry—I don’t understand any of it,” Kara responded wryly. Humans said weird things.

“I’m counting on that,” Lena admitted.

“So, in plain English, are we friends now?” Kara hated the small amount of hope that crept into her voice,

“Friends…” Lena mused.

“Or not,” Kara muttered, already feeling dejected.

Lena just continued grinning. “Well, we can try, I supposed. But I’m warning you now that I’m not a good friend for you.” Behind her smile, that warning was real. Kara paid it no mind, though; it meant nothing to her. Nothing on this planet could hurt her.

“You say that a lot,” Kara noted, her voice even without a semblance of fear. That seemed to throw Lena a little.

“Yes, because you’re not listening to me. I’m still waiting for you to believe it. If you’re smart, you’ll avoid me.”

“I don’t like your false opinions on the subject of my intellect.”

Lena smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so condescending.”

Kara nodded, accepting the apology but playing along. “So, as long as I’m being… not smart, we’ll try to be friends?” Kara struggled to sum up the confusing exchange.

“That sounds about right. What are you thinking?” Lena asked curiously,

Kara looked up into her now sea-green eyes, became befuddled, and, as usual, fumbled out the truth.

“I’m trying to figure out what you are.”

Lena’s jaw clenched, enhancing her already dangerously sharp jawline, but the smile remained with strained effort. 

“Are you having any luck with that?” She asked in an offhand tone.

“Not too much,” Kara admitted.

She laughed softly, “What are your theories?” Kara tilted her head, noticing the strange Irish lilt in the last word.

Kara blushed, not wanting to admit she had spent the month debating between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers.

“Won’t you tell me?” Lena asked, tilting her head with a shockingly tempting smile, one perfect dark eyebrow raising in question.

Kara shook her head, “Too embarrassing.”

“That’s really frustrating, you know,” Lena complained.

“No,” Kara disagreed quickly, her eyes narrowing as she was met with that uncommon anger hiding just beneath the surface. “I can’t imagine why that would be frustrating at all—just because someone refuses to tell you what they’re thinking, even if all the while they’re making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean… now, why would that be frustrating?” Lena grimaced, but Kara was already on a roll.

“Or better,” she continued, “say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things—from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and she never explained any of that, either, even after she promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating.”

Kara knew it was all very hypocritical, but she couldn’t help it. She had so many negative emotions bottled up, and it was starting to overflow.

“You’ve got a bit of a temper, don’t you?”

Kara sighed, “Not usually, no. But I don’t like double standards.”

They stared at one another, unsmiling.

Then, Lena glanced over Kara’s shoulder, and unexpectedly, she snickered.

“What?”

“Your boyfriend seems to think I’m being unpleasant to you—he’s debating whether or not to come break up our fight.” She snickered again.

Kara had a feeling Lena was referring to Winn. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s not my boyfriend.” Kara frustratedly explained, “But I can’t say you’d be wrong. That sounds like Winn, trying to defend my honor and all that jazz.”

“Most people are easy to read.”

“Except me, of course.”

“Yes. Except for you.” Her mood shifted suddenly, honey eyes returning with brooding force. “I wonder why that is.”

Kara had to look away from the intensity of her stare. She focused on drawing shapeless patterns on the tabletop with her forefinger.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Lena asked, distracted.

“No.” Generally, Kara was always hungry. It was a part of her metabolism, and with her heat vision flaring up so frequently, she was burning through even more calories. But right now? Kara’s stomach was full—a strange twisting feeling that could only be described as butterflies. “You?” Kara looked at the empty table before them.

“No, I’m not hungry.” Kara didn’t understand Lena’s expression—it looked like she was enjoying some private joke, but even right now, Kara believed food was never a laughing matter. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Kara asked after a few hesitant moments of deliberation.

Lena was suddenly wary, “That depends on what you want.”

“It’s not much,” Kara reassured her.

Lena waited, guarded but curious. 

“I just wondered… if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so I’m prepared.” Kara’s eyes were cast on the table as she spoke, still drawing inconsequential shapes.

“That sounds fair.” When Kara looked up, Lena’s lips were pressed together, but there was no hint of laughter or judgment. As if she understood the premise all too well.

“Thanks.”

“Then, can I have one answer in return?” She inquired.

“One.”

“Tell me a theory.”

Kara shook her head. “Not that one.”

“But you just promised me one answer.” Lena reminded.

“And you’ve broken promises yourself.”

“Just one theory—I won’t laugh.”

“Yes, you will.” Kara was nearly confident about that, already seeing the mirth in Lena’s eyes as they faded from honey to everglades.

Lena looked down, then glanced at Kara through her long lashes, those green eyes scorching Kara.

“Please?” she breathed, leaning towards Kara.

Kara blinked, mind going blank as a slow smirk formed around Lena’s mouth.

“What?” Kara asked, the world off kilter and a little dazed.

“Please tell me just one little theory.” Her eyes were so intense that Kara complied without much more thought. 

“Uh, well—I—bitten by a radioactive spider?”

“That’s not very creative.” Lena scoffed, as if offended.

“I’m sorry, that’s all I’ve got.” She said, senses coming back to her.

“You’re not even close,” Lena teased.

“No spiders?”

“Nope.”

“And no radioactivity?”

“None.”

“Dang,” Kara sighed, resting her head on the palm of her hand. 

“High-frequency sounds and fire don’t bother me either,” Lena laughed.

“You’re not supposed to laugh, remember?” Kara chided, but there was no malice behind it.

Kara was unnerved as her laughter was immediately smoothed by a neutral mask of indifference, as if Lena regularly did it with practiced ease.

“I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I wish you wouldn’t try.” Lena was serious again.

“Because…?”

“What if I’m not a superhero? What if I’m the bad guy?” Lena tried for a playful smile, but it was off, and her eyes were impenetrable.

“Oh,” Kara said, as several things Lena had hinted suddenly fell into place. “I see.” She awkwardly adjusted her glasses. 

“Do you?” Lena’s face was abruptly severe, as if she were afraid she’d said too much.

“You’re dangerous?” Kara guessed, her heartbeat remaining calm and unaffected at the realization. Lena had been trying to tell her that all along.

Kara studied Lena’s face, honey eyes full of some emotion Kara couldn’t comprehend. Kara judged people on their own merits, and though Lena was often brash and rude, she believed that relatively bad people didn’t save practical strangers from assumed death.

“But not bad,” Kara whispered, shaking her head as she came to the conclusion, “No, I don’t believe that you’re bad.”

“You’re wrong,” Kara believed the words would be inaudible to any human, but Kara heard them perfectly clear, along with the self-loathing that adorned them. Kara didn’t feel any of the things that Lena probably expected of her.

Kara wasn’t anxious or afraid. She wasn’t on edge or anything of the like. More than anything, she was fascinated by the enigmatic person sitting across the table with unmatched beauty and eyes that constantly shifted colors. It was the same as she always felt around Lena—aside from the occasional burst of frustration or anger. 

The silence lasted between them until Kara noticed the cafeteria was almost empty. She jumped to her feet, “We’re going to be late.”

“I’m not going to class today,” Lena responded, sitting perfectly still at the table.

“Why not?” Kara asked as she hauled her backpack over her shoulder.

“It’s healthy to ditch class now and then.” She had that same closed-mouth smile as she looked at Kara, but her eyes were still troubled.

“Well, I’m going,” Kara told her. She was too much of a coward to risk getting caught, not to mention, she didn’t want to draw more attention to herself than there already was.

Lena looked back down at the table, “I’ll see you later, then.”

Kara hesitated, torn, but then the warning bell rang and sent Kara hurrying out of the cafeteria. As Kara half-ran to class, her mind was spinning. Unraveling. There were so few questions answered compared to how many new questions were raised. 

Kara was lucky; when she arrived, Mr. Carr wasn’t in the room yet. She settled quickly into her seat, aware of Mike’s resentful stare. Mr. Carr came into the room then, looking just as grumpy as usual as he juggled a few small cardboard boxes in his arms. He put them down on Mike’s table, telling him to pass them around the class.

“Okay. I want you all to take one piece from each box.” He said as he produced a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab coat and pulled them on. The sharp sound of gloves snapped into place against his wrist was both grating and ominous to Kara. “The first should be an indicator card,” he went on, grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it. “The second is a four-pronged applicator—” he held up something that Kara compared to a nearly toothless hair pick “—and third is a sterile micro-lancet.” He held up a small piece of blue plastic and split it open. Kara, with her enhanced vision, saw the barb clearly. Her stomach flipped. She should have just skipped.

“I’ll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please, don’t start until I get to you.” Mr. Carr’s monotonous voice was getting to Kara. 

He started at Mike’s table again, carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares, “Then, I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet…” He grabbed Mike’s middle finger, demonstrating as he pricked the finger. Oh no. I have to get out of here.

“Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs,” He continued his monotone demonstration, squeezing Mike’s finger until the blood flowed. Kara swallowed. Blood wasn’t something that bothered her, but a classroom full of people seeing how no matter how many times she tried, her skin would never break, her blood would never draw? That terrified her.

“And then apply it to the card,” He finished, holding up the blood-coated card for them to see. Kara closed her eyes, thinking of a way to get out of this as Mr. Carr made his rounds to each table. 

“The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you all should know your blood type.” Suddenly, an idea struck Kara. Plenty of people fainted at the sight of blood. “Those of you who aren’t eighteen yet will need a parent’s permission—I have slips at my desk.”

He continued through the room with his water drops, and Kara laid her head against the black tabletop, feigning to struggle to hold on to consciousness. All around her, Kara could hear squeals, complaints, and giggles as her classmates pricked their fingers. Kara continued her charade, breathing slowly in and out through her mouth.

“Ms. Danvers, are you alright?” Mr. Carr asked, his voice close to Kara with a tinge of annoyance present.

“I already know my bloody type, Mr. Carr,” Kara lied, weakening her voice.

“Are you feeling faint?” Was the gruff reply.

“Yes, sir,” Kara muttered, thinking this might be her best performance yet. 

“Can someone take Kara to the nurse?” He called, and Kara didn’t need to open her eyes as she heard the disturbance in the air. She already knew it was Mike before the motion sent his scent over to Kara. She had to force herself not to wrinkle her nose as the smell hit her.

“Can you walk?” Mr. Carr asked, just as gruff as before.

“Yes,” Kara whispered, glad that her desperate attempt to flee seemed to be working. Mike seemed too eager as he put his arm around her waist and pulled her arm over his shoulder. Kara debated dead weighting; watch Mike try to carry a three hundred pound molecularly dense alien, but ultimately decided against it. Keeping the ruse, she leaned heavily against him on the way out, levitating her body unnoticeably to make it seem like she weighed the average amount for a teenage human girl. 

Mike towed Kara slowly across campus. When they were around the edge of the cafeteria, out of sight of building four in case Mr. Carr was watching, Kara stopped.

“Just let me sit for a minute, please?” Mike “helped” Kara sit on the edge of the walkway. He stood there for a moment.

“You’re burning up, Kara. We should get you to the nurse.” 

“Kara?” a different voice called from the distance. Kara winced, recognizing that familiar voice anywhere.

“What’s wrong—is she hurt?” Kara’s eyes were closed again, but Lena was closer now and sounded upset. Kara knew she wasn’t imagining that. 

Mike seemed stressed. “I think she fainted in class. I don’t know what happened. She didn’t even stick her finger.”

“Kara.” Lena’s voice was right beside her now, relief in the tone. “Are you alright?”

Might as well keep it up.

“No,” she groaned. “Go away.”

Lena chuckled.

“I was taking her to the nurse,” Mike explained, his voice becoming defensive, “but she wouldn’t go any farther.”

“I’ll take her,” Lena replied, and Kara swore she could hear the smile still in her voice.

“You can go back to class.”

“No.” Mike protested. “I’m supposed to do it.” Suddenly, the sidewalk disappeared from beneath Kara. Her eyes flew up in shock. Lena had scooped Kara up into her arms as easily as if she weighed ten pounds and not three hundred and seven.

“Put me down!” Kara demanded, not over the shock of how easily Lena had picked her up without Kara aiding with her power of flight. 

“Hey!” Mike called, already ten paces behind them; Lena ignored him. “Considering what Mike told me, you don’t look that awful.” Lena raised a suspicious eyebrow. 

“Put me back on the sidewalk,” Kara pleaded, but still overly aware of the cool temperature of Lena’s body as she walked. It was so strange to Kara. She could never feel the temperature of anything—aside from food, everything felt room temperature to her. That was the cost of being impervious to extreme temperatures. Which made it more worrying to Kara.

How cold was Lena’s skin to humans if even Kara could feel the coolness of it? She imagined it was unpleasant to humans—something so cold it burned—but it was a soothing feeling to Kara. That wasn’t good either.

“So, you faint at the sight of blood?” Lena teased, clearly entertained.

“Truthfully? I hate blood labs and was making my escape. So could you just set me down, and we can go on about our days?”

“Well, if I do that, then you won’t have the nurse as your alibi, and then Snapper Carr will find out. He’ll be pissed, like he is about most things.”

Kara groaned, throwing her head back, hating that Lena was right. “Fine, I’ll keep up my little charade.”

“Good,” Lena responded before going through a door.

“Oh my,” a female voice gasped—Kara’s eyes were closed again, and her face contorted into a false grimace. 

“She fainted in Biology,” Lena explained. Her humor had vanished, and her voice was perfectly solemn.

Kara peeked her eyes open. She was in the office, and Lena was striding past the front counter toward the nurse’s door. Ms. Cope, the red-headed front office receptionist, ran ahead of Lena to hold it open. The grandmotherly nurse looked up from a novel, astonished, as Lena swung her into the room and placed her gently on the crackly paper that covered the brown vinyl mattress on the singular cot. Then Lena moved to stand against the wall as far across the narrow room as possible. Her eyes were bright, excited, and nearly betraying the act.

“She’s just a little faint,” Lena reassured the startled nurse. “They’re blood typing in Biology.”

The nurse nodded sagely. “There’s always one.”

Lena muffled a snicker.

“Just lie down for a minute, honey; it’ll pass.”

“I know,” Kara sighed at the ridiculousness of it all, but she was her own reason for winding up here. 

“Does this happen a lot?” The nurse asked.

“Sometimes,” she lied.

“You can go back to class now.” The nurse told Lena.

“I’m supposed to stay with her,” Lena said with such assured authority that—even though she pursed her lips—the nurse didn’t argue it further.

“I’ll go get some ice for your forehead, dear,” she announced before bustling out of the room.

Once she was gone, Kara sat up, “You were right.”

“I usually am—but about what in particular this time?”

“Ditching is healthy.” Truly, she was becoming more like Alex day by day. She idly wondered if there was a therapist for people who watched their planet explode before being stuck in space for over two decades. 

“You scared me for a minute there,” Lena admitted after a pause, her tone sounding as if she was confessing a terrible weakness. “I thought Matthews was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods.”

“Ha ha.” She replied sarcastically.

“I was pondering if I needed to avenge your death,” then she whispered, “but then it turned out you’re as healthy as a horse.” Kara didn’t get that phrase. What did horses have to do with health? What was it with Earth and weird idioms?

“Poor Mike. I’ll bet he’s mad.”

“He absolutely loathes me,” Lena sounded oddly pleased by that.

“You can’t know that,” Kara argued, but then wondered suddenly if Lena could know that.

“I saw his face—I could tell.”

“How did you see me? I thought you were ditching.” Kara turned her head to the door, heard the approaching footsteps, and settled back onto the cot, closing her eyes and pinching her face with “queasiness.” 

“I was in my car, listening to a CD.” Such a standard response that it surprised Kara slightly.

Then, the door opened, and Kara looked to see the nurse with a cold compress in her hand. 

“Here you go, dear.” She laid it across her forehead before letting out a small gasp. “Oh my, you’re burning up, honey.” Right, alien biology. 

“I guess I was feeling a little sick before class. The blood definitely exacerbated it, though.” Kara sat up, pretending to dispel dizziness as she did so. Then the door opened again, and Ms. Cope stuck her head in.

“We’ve got another one,” she warned.

Kara returned the compress to the nurse, careful not to touch her skin. “Here, I don’t need this.” Then, Mike staggered through the door, now supporting a sallow-looking Lauren Gand, another girl from their Biology class. Kara and Lena drew back across the room.

“Oh no,” Lena muttered loud enough to keep the game going. “Go out to the office, Kara.” Kara nearly burst out laughing, but Lena continued. “Trust me—go.”

Kara spun on her heel and caught the door before it closed, darting out of the nurse’s office. She could feel Lena right behind her.

“You actually listened to me.” Lena seemed surprised.

“I smelled the blood,” Kara responded, wrinkling her nose.

“People can’t smell blood.” Lena contradicted.

They can’t? Too late to back out now.

“Well, I can—it smells metallic, like rust and then salt.” She was staring at Kara with an unfathomable expression.

“What?” Kara asked, bewildered by the expression.

“It’s nothing.”

Mike came through the door then, glancing between Kara and Lena. Kara came to the conclusion that Lena was right; the look he gave Lena absolutely derived from loathing. He looked back at Kara, his eyes glum.

“You look better,” he accused.

“Just keep your hand in your pocket, please.” Kara warned, keeping the charade up. Mike would be the one to tattle.

“It’s not bleeding anymore,” he muttered. “Are you going back to class?”

“I would just have to turn back around and wind up here.”

“Yeah, I guess… So, are you going this weekend? To the beach?” Who invited Mike?

While he spoke, he’d flashed another glare toward Lena, who was standing against the cluttered counter, motionless as a sculpture, staring off into space.

“Maybe, I’m not sure yet.” She responded, deciding she needed to text Winn later to find out how Mike weaseled his way into their trip.

“If you do, we’re meeting at my dad’s store, at ten.” His eyes flickered to Lena again, a clear sign of wondering if he was giving too much information. His body language was making it clear it wasn’t an open invitation, but then again, Mike was never openly invited to begin with.

“We’ll see.”

“I’ll see you in gym, then.” He said, moving uncertainly toward the door. 

“See you,” Kara replied. Mike looked at her again, his face slightly pouty, before ambling out the door with his shoulders slumped.

“Gym,” Kara groaned, already dreading it.

“I can take care of that.” Kara hadn’t noticed Lena moving to her side, but Lena spoke in her ear now. “Go sit down and look pale,” she muttered.

That was a little challenging for Kara; she was never pale and didn’t sweat or show signs of fatigue. Kara just hoped her body temperature and grimaces would sell it enough. Kara sat in one of the creaky folding chairs and rested her head against the wall with her eyes closed.

She could hear Lena speaking softly at the counter.

“Ms. Cope?”

“Yes?”

“Kara has gym next period, and I don’t think she feels well enough. Actually, I was thinking I should take her home now. Do you think you could excuse her from class?” her voice was like melting honey; Kara could already imagine the intensity of her overwhelming eyes. 

“Do you need to be excused, too, Lena?” Ms. Cope fluttered, making Kara grimace even more.

“No, I have Mrs. Vasquez, she won’t mind.”

“Okay, it’s all taken care of. You feel better, Kara,” she called out, and Kara nodded weakly, hamming it up a bit more.

“Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you again?” Kara flushed, knowing before she opened her eyes that Lena’s expression had become sarcastic with her back to Ms. Cope.

“I’ll walk.” Kara stood, making a slow beeline for the door as Lena held it open, her smile polite but her eyes full of amusement. 

Kara walked out in the rain, the feeling of it soothing to her after her closeness to Lena Luthor. Her skin was cool, but her closeness was like Kara had been burned, as if she had flown too close to the sun.

“Thanks,” Kara said as Lena followed her out, “It’s almost worth ‘getting sick’ to miss gym.”

“Anytime.” She was staring straight forward, squinting in the rain.

“I’m going to try to somehow prevent Mike from going—he was never invited in the first place—but are you going? This Saturday, I mean?” Kara had a small hope that Lena would, though it seemed unlikely. She couldn’t picture Lena loading up to carpool with the rest of the group from school; Lena didn’t belong in the same world as them. But Kara was just hoping that Lena might give her a slight twinge of more enthusiasm she’d felt for the outing—especially if she couldn’t stop Mike from coming. 

“Where are you all going, exactly?” She was still looking ahead, expressionless.

“Down to La Push, to First Beach.” Kara studied her face, trying her best to read Lena. She noticed the way Lena’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. 

She glanced up at Kara from the corner of her eye, smiling wryly. “I really don’t think I was invited.”

Kara sighed, “I just invited you.”

“Lets you and I not push poor Mike further this week. We don’t want him to snap.” Kara had the feeling that Lena enjoyed the idea more than she should. 

“Mike-schmike.” Kara muttered, preoccupied by the way Lena said, “you and I.” She liked it more than she should.

They were near the parking lot now. Kara veered left, toward her truck, but something caught her by her jacket, yanking her back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lena asked, amused. She was gripping a fistful of Kara’s jacket in one hand. Kara was beginning to wonder how strong exactly Lena was.

“I’m going home.” Kara’s words lilted at the end, and it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“I promised to take you home safely.” She was still amused, but there was something strange in her eyes.

“What about my truck?” Kara complained, glancing toward her rusting truck again.

“I’ll have Sam drop it off after school.” Lena was towing Kara toward her car now, pulling Kara’s jacket. Kara debated planting her feet, making herself immovable, but if Lena was strangely strong and Kara had questions about what she was, she didn’t want Lena wondering the same things about her. 

She finally freed Kara at the passenger door, and Kara indignantly straightened her jacket.

“You’re real pushy, you know.” Kara grumbled, but Lena just smirked.

“It’s open,” was all she responded before sliding into the driver’s side.

Kara stood there a moment, debating on whether or not to bolt back to her truck. She had a feeling Lena would quickly catch up, so she stood there another moment, letting the rain wash over her; her hair was dripping down her back.

Lena lowered the automatic window and leaned across the seat.

“Get in, Kara.”

“This is completely unnecessary,” Kara said stiffly as she got into the car, feeling a lot like a drowned rat. Lena didn’t answer. Instead, she fiddled with the controls, turning the heater up and the music down. The choice of music made Kara curious.

“Dancing with Myself?” Kara asked, surprised.

“You know Billy Idol?” Lena sounded surprised too.

“I don’t live under a rock,” Kara said, not wanting to say something like, ‘Well, when I crashed on Earth, I spent a long time consuming all eras of pop culture to better understand Earth and its people.’ Yeah, that would be ridiculous.

“My sister has eccentric taste. She would listen to all sorts of music, so I picked up on a few here and there.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Alex did have eccentric taste, but so did Kara.

“It’s one of my favorites.” Lena stared out through the rain, lost in thought. Kara felt that it was sad—for that to be one of Lena’s favorites. It wasn’t the happiest song by any means, despite its upbeat tempo.

Kara listened to the music, relaxing against the light gray leather seat. It wasn’t a soothing melody, but it was impossible to not respond to something so familiar. The rain blurred everything outside the window into gray and green smudges. It was then Kara realized how fast they were driving, the town flashing by in a blur that could only be described as dangerously over the speed limit. Kara wasn’t unnerved by it; she wasn’t sure she would be even if she was human—the car moved steadily, so evenly that it almost didn’t feel like they were going fast at all.

“What’s your sister like?” Lena asked suddenly, and Kara looked over to see Lena studying her with curious eyes; her attention was far from the road she was driving on, and the car continued to move seamlessly.

“She’s a lot like me in some ways, but she’s got a wilder streak,” Kara explained, watching Lena raise that singular eyebrow again. “She’s not as outgoing as I am—but she’s also not a rambling mess—but she’s brave. Sometimes, I think she’s braver than me. She’s both responsible and irresponsible at the same time and slightly eccentric. But she’s my big sister. She’s overly protective but is always there for me when I need her, even though we’re not blood-related. She’s my best friend. I’m unsure what I would do…” here, on Earth, “without her.”

“How old are you, Kara?” Lena sounded almost frustrated for a reason she couldn’t imagine. Kara looked out the window, noticing the car had stopped; she was already home. She could barely see the house. The rain was too heavy, like the car was submerged in a river.

“I’m seventeen,” Kara responded, confused at the sudden question and Lena’s sudden inquiry about it.

“You don’t seem seventeen.”

That’s because I’m forty-one and had a lot of time to think while I was stuck in the Phantom Zone.

Lena’s reproachful tone made Kara laugh unbridled. She couldn’t understand a thing about Lena Luthor, and it was starting to become comical.

“What?” She asked, curious again.

“Eliza always says that I’m an old soul. That I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year.” Kara laughed, then sighed as the amusement was washed from her alongside the rain. Thinking about everything she lost, all brought on by a silly question about her age. She tried to move past it, not wanting to somehow drop her traumatic past onto the stilting conversation.

“You don’t seem much like a junior in high school yourself,” Kara noted, but Lena just made a face and changed the subject.

“What about your mother—your biological mom?” Kara blinked, not wanting tears to fall as she pictured Alura in her head. Somedays, she wished her mind was as fragile as humans, to be able to blur the images of the past and diminish their picture. But Kara’s mind wasn’t fragile; her memory was perfect and far exceeded any human’s mind. Alura’s perfect picture, the sound of her voice, and the rest of her family would haunt her forever. Constantly driving a knife into her, never letting her move on. She would be stuck with the memories of hundreds of people she’d ever lost for all eternity. Kara looked out the window, feeling suddenly frayed as she listened to a frog’s heartbeat miles away, and she listened to the sound of students laughing at Fork’s High School, as nature washed over her with all the sounds of life and the city’s soundscape reached her more than a hundred miles away. It was a painful cacophony of the world, as her senses kept expanding past Washington State, as they converged further than the entire United States. Emotional turmoil forced Kara to listen to the whole world all at once, unwilling to be reeled back in, as if it was meant to torture her. She tried very hard not to break anything in Lena’s car, to keep her hands in her lap and her eyes closed in case her heat vision went awry.

“Kara?”

And then the world was quiet again. Everything pinpointed to Lena and her lack of heartbeat, all reeled in by her velvety voice. Kara was unnerved—by many things—but was always surprised when Lena’s lack of anatomical sounds seemed to be her salvation. 

“I’m sorry for asking, I didn’t mean to pry.” This time, Lena’s apologies sounded genuine. There was no bite, no edge of frustration. Just solemn apprehension. 

Kara opened her eyes, feeling the sticky feeling of tears on her cheeks before hastily wiping them away.

“No, no, it’s okay—I’m sorry, it’s just,” she sighed deeply, trying not to ramble. “I don’t get asked about my family often, I don’t really get to talk about them. And I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not like it’s fresh. It happened four,” twenty-eight, “years ago.” Her voice was wobbling, weak, and betraying her.

Lena’s face was almost too much to bear, too understanding and too brilliant to look at. So, she didn’t, and she turned her head, hearing Lena open her mouth before words flowed from her. 

“I’m sorry, Kara. I’m sure you know this, but I was adopted by the Luthors. I know what it’s like to experience loss. To lose a mother.” It was the softest Lena had ever spoken, and Kara turned to look at Lena, surprised by the truthfulness there. “You can talk to me about your family, but you don’t have to.”

Kara nodded, waited a few more minutes, then, “My mom—Alura—she was very young to have a child. She enjoyed life and I was told that when she married my father, who was a lot older than her, that it made her feel even younger. It made her more ambitious and proud in her duties. She became a better… judge. She began to forgive her sister—Astra, after she had me.” Kara abruptly cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut as Krypton’s destruction flashed in her eyes.

“Did you… approve? Of your mother being with an older man?” Kara opened her eyes, even more confused. What a strange thing to ask, Kara thought. It wouldn’t matter, regardless. Everyone was predetermined and matched together.

“Does it matter?” Kara countered, “They were both happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for my family.”

“What about your mom—I’m sorry—Eliza? Would she extend that courtesy to you?” Kara was very confused by this conversation, but it was distracting enough for her tears to dry. Kara was sure there was a weird curiosity from Lena that drew the conversation here, but she was utterly certain it had been by design to distract Kara from the past. 

“I—I don’t know, maybe? Eliza really just cares about me being happy.”

“No one too scary and monstrous then,” Lena teased, but there was a hint of that same self-loathing again.

Kara grinned, “What do you mean by scary? Like a bald guy in his twenties?” Lena laughed loudly at that, shaking her head in amusement. Kara didn’t think it was that funny, but she felt elated at having made Lena laugh like that.

“That’s one definition, I suppose.”

“What’s your definition?”

Lena ignored the questions and asked her own, “Do you think I could be scary?” She raised that damning eyebrow again, the faint traces of a smile lightening her face.

“Lena, I really don’t want to imagine you bald. Please don’t shave your head.” Lena rolled her eyes, giving Kara an odd look. “Fine, fine.” Kara studied Lena for a moment before opting to go with the truth. “I think you could be, if you wanted to.”

“Are you frightened of me now?” The smile vanished, and her heavenly face was suddenly serious again.

“No.” Kara responded, evenly and truthfully, and the smile returned. “So, are you going to tell me about your family?” she asked, “I’m sure it’s more interesting than my apparent trauma.” Kara winced at the last part but still noticed Lena’s now cautious expression. 

“What do you want to know?”

“So we’ve covered the Luthors adopting you,” 

“Yes.”

Kara hesitated another moment. “What happened to your parents?”

“I never knew my father… and my mother, she died many years ago.” It was said almost matter-of-factly, but Kara knew better; she could hear the inkling of emotion in her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t really remember her that clearly. It’s all very faint memories. Lionel and Lillian have been my parents for a long time now.”

“And you love them.” It wasn’t a question. It was evident in the way Lena spoke of them.

“Yes.” She smiled, “We butt heads at times, but I couldn’t imagine two better people.”

“I’m glad you have them.”

“I’m glad you have Eliza and Alex.” She responded, and Kara cleared her throat.

“And your brothers and sisters?”

Lena glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

“My brothers and sisters, rather Andrea and William for that matter, are going to be quite upset if they have to stand in the rain waiting for me.”

“Oh, sorry, I guess you should get going.” Kara didn’t want to get out of the car.

“And you probably want your truck back before Dr. Danvers gets home, so you don’t have to tell her about the ‘Biology’ incident.” Lena was smirking, eyes full of mirth again.

“I’m sure she’s already heard. There are no secrets in Forks.” Kara sighed, but Lena laughed. There was a strange edge to the laughter, one she could understand, considering she was one huge secret in Forks herself.

“Have fun at the beach… good weather for sunbathing.” Lena glanced out at the sheeting rain.

“Won’t I see you tomorrow?”

“No. Jack and I are starting the weekend early.”

“What are you going to do?” A friend could ask that… right?

Kara was hoping the disappointment in her voice wasn’t too noticeable.

“We’re going to be hiking in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainer.”

“Oh, uh, have fun.” Kara tried to sound enthusiastic, but Lena didn’t seem fooled one bit. A smile was playing around the edge of her lips.

“Will you do something for me this weekend?” Lena turned fully toward Kara, her blazing green eyes so intense again that Kara nodded helplessly.

“Don’t be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who attracts accidents like a magnet. So… try not to all into the ocean or get run over by anything, alright?” Lena’s smile was soft, and Kara just laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She replied as she exited the car and started to walk toward the door.

Lena was smiling as she drove away.

Chapter Text

“There are many realities not just one. There is a truth that goes far beyond what we are told today to believe in. And we find that truth when we are brave enough to break away from what keeps everybody else feeling comfortable. Your reality is what you believe in. And nobody should be able to tell you to believe otherwise.”

- C. Joybell C.

When Kara sat on her bed, listening for the sound of her truck to arrive, she texted Winn. She asked him who had invited Mike and then quickly learned that no one had; Mike had invited himself after overhearing their conversation. They had all tried to deter him, but he didn’t seem to care that no one wanted him there. She was so engrossed in messaging back and forth with Winn that she never even heard the engine approach, only that when she looked out the window, it was suddenly there.

Kara wasn’t looking forward to the next day, and it more than lived up to Kara’s non-expectations. Of course, there were the fainting comments; Kara, knowing it was all an act, tried not to pay attention to those. Mike had seemed to keep his mouth shut about Lena’s involvement, but her friends all had questions about lunch yesterday. There was an odd dynamic; Maggie’s snide comments and jesting humor were now absent, but the world went on anyway.

“So, what did Lena Luthor want yesterday?” Nia asked in Trig, excitedly tapping her fingers on the desk as Kara blushed against her will.

“I don’t really know,” Kara answered truthfully, “I’m not sure she ever got to the point.”

“You know, I’ve never seen her sit with anyone but her family before. That was weird.” Nia commented, still excited, though Kara wasn’t sure what about precisely.

“Weird,” Kara agreed, surprised at how excited all her friends seemed to be.

The worst part about Friday was that, even though Kara knew Lena wouldn’t be there, she still hoped. When she walked into the cafeteria with Nia and James, Kara couldn’t keep herself from looking at her table, where Sam, Andrea, and William sat talking, heads close together. Kara couldn’t seem to stop the gloom that engulfed her as she realized she didn’t know how long she’d have to wait before seeing Lena again. 

At their usual table, everyone had plans for their trip the next day. Winn was animated, putting great trust into the local weatherman who promised sun tomorrow. Kara had a little hope for it—it was warmer, almost sixty today. 

Kara intercepted a few unfriendly glances from Mike during lunch, which Kara didn’t fully understand until they were leaving lunch. Kara was a foot behind him; he was speaking to Imra, evidently unaware of Kara’s presence.

“… don’t know why Kara”—her sneered her name—“doesn’t just sit with the Luthors from now on.”

Kara knew that Mike certainly wasn’t the nicest person on the planet, but Kara was surprised to hear so much malice behind the words. She had paused then, letting the rest of her friend group pass her by as she focused intently on not listening in. 

That night at dinner, Eliza seemed enthusiastic about Kara’s trip to La Push in the morning. She was ecstatic about Kara making friends, and of course, Eliza knew all the names of the kids going, their parents, and their great-grandparents. Eliza seemed to approve greatly of her friend choices, especially since her reactions towards Mike weeks prior had been a little unfavorable. Kara wondered if she would approve of her plan to ride to Seattle with Lena Luthor but didn’t ask. Eliza seemed to have good opinions on the Luthors in general and didn’t think bringing it up again over a specific Luthor was worth it.

“Eliza, do you know a place called Goat Rocks or something like that? I think it’s south of Mount Rainer,” Kara asked casually. 

“Yeah—why?”

Kara shrugged. “Some kids were talking about camping there.”

“It’s not a very good place for camping,” Eliza said worriedly, her brows furrowed. “There are too many bears. Most people go there during the hunting season.”

“Oh,” Kara muttered, looking down at her plate. “Maybe I got the name wrong.” Kara knew she hadn’t, and Eliza seemed to know too but didn’t comment on it. 

Kara tried to sleep in, but an unusual brightness that she was no longer used to woke her up. She opened her eyes to see a clear yellow light streaming through the window. Kara almost couldn’t believe it, so used to the dreary weather that she hurried to the window to check. Sure enough, there was the sun. It was in the wrong place in the sky; it seemed too low and not as close as it should be, but it was definitely the sun. Clouds ringed the horizon, but a large patch of blue was visible in the middle. She lingered by the window, soaking up the sun as it radiated her cells in a way that it hadn’t in weeks. She was never weaker, not even with the way the sun was always covered and hidden by clouds, but something about direct sunlight made her feel revitalized.

Despite not wanting Mike to be there, they couldn’t seem to shake his hellbent agenda to be there. The Matthews’ Olympic Outfitters—where they all decided to meet—was just north of town. She’d seen the store, but she’d never stopped there. She recognized Mike’s Suburban and Adam’s Sentra in the parking lot as she pulled up to their vehicles. They were all standing around, but there was a clear divide between Kara’s friends and Mike’s friends. She saw Mike huddled with a bunch of boys and Imra. When Kara exited the truck, Imra gave her a scathing look as she whispered to a girl Kara remembered as Leslie Willis. 

“You came!” Winn called, running over and giving Kara a hug that she was slowly getting used to experiencing from her friends. “I told you it would be sunny today, didn’t I?’

“I told you I was coming,” she laughed, and Winn waved it off, still delighted, nonetheless.

“We’re just waiting for Nia and James… unless you invited someone,” Winn added, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively once again. 

Kara shoved him lightly, careful not to knock him to the ground. “Nope,” she lied, her smile becoming slightly forced. Despite the lie, Kara hoped some miracle would occur, and Lena would appear. Conversely, Winn just shook his head as if chastising Kara for not inviting Lena. Mike seemed to overhear, looking satisfied. 

“Hey, pay that dimwit no mind.” Winn scoffed before whispering, “we didn’t want him here anyway, you know.”

“I know. I just don’t get it why he won’t leave me alone.”

“Maybe he’s jealous.” Winn teased, and Kara rolled her eyes. 

“Wanna ride with me? I know it’s a minivan, but Nia doesn’t have a car and neither does James. So, its either the minivan, or the hoodlums.”

Kara agreed, and it didn’t take long before they clamored into Winn’s minivan. 

It was only fifteen miles to La Push from Forks, with gorgeous, dense green forests edging the road most of the way and the wide Quillayute River snaking beneath it twice. Kara rolled her window down, absorbing as much sunlight as possible. Kara had been to many beaches, having lived in California, but as they went through the mile-long crescent of First Beach, she couldn’t help but conclude that it was breathtaking—more beautiful than any beach in California.

The water was dark gray, even in the sunlight, white-capped and heaving to the gray, rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbor waters with sheer cliff sides, reaching to uneven summits and crowned with austere, soaring firs. The beach had only a thin border of actual sand at the water’s edge, after which it grew into a million large, smooth stones that looked uniformly gray from a distance to ordinary people. But to Kara, she could see, even from the distance, that every shade of stone was different: terracotta, lavender, blue-gray, dull gold, and lastly, sea green that helplessly reminded Kara of Lena. The tide line was strewn with colossal driftwood trees, bleached bone white in the salt waves; some piled together against the edge of the forest fringe, some lying in solitary, just out of reach of the waves. 

A brisk wind came off the waves, the smell briny and the wind refreshing. Pelicans floated on the swells while seagulls and a lone falcon wheeled above them. Kara was constantly amazed by birds and how they soared high in the sky just as she could. She wondered if her parents would have liked birds. 

The clouds still circled the sky, threatening to invade at any moment, but the sun shone bravely in its halo of blue sky for now. They picked their way down the beach, Mike leading the way to a ring of driftwood logs that had obviously been used for gatherings like theirs before. A fire circle was already in place, filled with black ashes that hadn’t been scattered by the wind yet. Winn and Brainy set off to gather broken branches of driftwood from the drier piles against the forest edge, and soon, there was a teepee-shaped construction built atop the old cinders. 

“Have you ever seen a driftwood fire?” Winn asked. Kara was sitting on one of the bone-colored benches; Mike’s friends clustered on the other side, gossiping excitedly. Nia and Brainy sat beside Kara on her right, while James sat solitarily on her left. Winn kneeled by the fire, taking the offered lighter from James’ outstretched hand before setting the smaller sticks on fire.

“No,” Kara said, watching as Winn carefully placed the blazing twig against the teepee.

“You should like this then—watch the colors.” He lit another small branch and laid it alongside the first. The flames started to lick quickly up the dry wood. 

“It’s blue,” Kara gasped, surprised. 

“The sea salt plus the metal salts does it. It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” Winn was speaking with wonder as he lit another piece and placed it where the fire hadn’t yet caught. Then, Winn came to sit in between Kara and James. James and Winn were quickly raptured in shy conversations, their feelings for one another now known. Nia and Brainy were doing much the same, and Kara focused on the fire. She watched as the strange blue and green flames crackled toward the sky. 

After a half-hour of chatter, some of the boys wanted to hike to the nearby tide pools. This posed a slight dilemma for Kara. On one hand, she’d never been to a tide pool—she wasn’t entirely sure if Krypton even had tide pools—but they fascinated her. On the other hand, it reminded her of Lena’s request that she not fall into the ocean—which could happen with Kara’s luck. 

There was a divide. Many of Mike’s friends did not want to hike, but Kara’s friends were all for it, and with enough pleading from Imra, Mike stayed behind. 

The hike wasn’t long, though Kara hated losing the sky in the woods. The green light of the forest was strangely at odds with the adolescent laughter, too murky and ominous to be in harmony with the light banter around her. Kara soon fell behind, amazed at the strange colors that filtered through the canopies of trees. Eventually, she broke through the emerald confines of the forest and found the rocky shore again. It was a low tide, and a tidal river flowed past them on its way to the sea. Deep pools that never completely drained were teeming with life along its pebbled banks.

Her friends seemed fearless, leaping over the rocks, perching precariously on the edges. Kara found a stable-looking rock—one that didn’t look like it would teeter over with her weight—and sat there cautiously. She was spellbound by the natural aquarium below her. The bouquets of brilliant anemones undulated ceaselessly in the invisible current, twisted shells scurred about the edges, obscuring the crabs within them, starfish stuck motionless to the rocks and each other, while one small black eel with white racing stripes wove through the bright green weeds, waiting for the sea to return. Kara was wholly absorbed by nature on Earth, but a small part of her mind wondered what Lena was doing at that moment, trying to imagine what she would be saying if she were there with Kara. 

Eventually, everyone came to the consensus they were hungry, and Kara stiffly followed them back, mind occupied with thoughts of Lena. 

When they got back to the First Beach, the group they’d left behind had multiplied. As they got closer, Kara could see the shining straight black hair and copper skin of the newcomers, teenagers from the reservation come to socialize,

The food was already being passed around, and most people hurried to claim a share while Winn moved to introduce the newcomers as they entered the driftwood circle. Among them was Maggie Sawyer, looking a tad out of place and keeping her distance. None of them said anything; they just smiled awkwardly as she stayed near the other natives. Kara wasn’t listening very closely as she sat down next to Brainy. James brought them all sandwiches, so she didn’t catch the names of the eight natives, aside from a girl named Jessica and a younger boy named Jacob. 

It was relaxing sitting next to Brainy; he was a restful kind of person to be around—he didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with chatter. He left Kara free to think undisturbed while everyone ate. Kara was thinking about how disjointed time seemed to flow in Forks, passing in a blur at times, with single images standing out more clearly than others. And then, at other times, every second was significant, etched in her mind. Kara knew exactly what caused the difference and found herself slightly distraught over it.

During lunch, the clouds started to advance, slinking across the blue sky, darting in front of the sun momentarily, casting long shadows across the beach, and blackening the waves. As people finished eating, they drifted away in twos and threes. Some walked down to the edge of the waves, trying to skip rocks across the choppy surface. Others were gathering for a second expedition to the tide pools. Mike—with Imra shadowing him—headed up to the one shop in the village. Some of the local kids went with them; others went along on the hike. By the time they all had scattered, Kara was sitting alone on her driftwood log, with James and Winn occupying themselves with a CD player someone had thought to bring, and three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including Maggie, the boy named Jacob, and the oldest boy who acted as a spokesperson.

A few minutes after Brainy left with the hikers, Maggie sauntered over to take his place by Kara’s side. Her hair looked healthier—silkier—than the last time Kara had seen her, and it was falling in soft waves down her back. 

“How are you? The others said you were sick and your aunt took you out of school?” Kara inquired, and Maggie looked away, her shoulders drooping slightly. 

“Yeah... she did. I’m… feeling better. I’m learning more about my heritage,” she said, making a swooping gesture to the boys. 

The silence that followed was stilting. They never talked one-on-one; they didn’t know one another well. Another moment later, Imra returned, having apparently forgotten something.

“I forgot you two knew each other.” Imra stated, sounding almost insolent, but neither Kara nor Maggie responded. 

After she grabbed what she needed, she called out to Kara again. “Kara,” she observed her face, “I was just telling Adam that it was too bad none of the Luthors could come out today. Didn’t anyone think to invite them?” Her expression of concern was unconvincing even to Kara.

“You mean Dr. Lionel Luthor’s family?” the tall, older boy asked before Kara could respond, much to Imra’s irritation. Kara thought he was really closer to a man, his voice deep.

“Yes, do you know them?” she asked condescendingly, turning halfway toward him.

“The Luthors don’t come here,” he said in a tone that closed the subject, ignoring Imra’s question. Irked, Imra sulked off to return to Mike, no doubt.

Kara stared at the deep-voice boy, taken aback, but he was looking away toward the dark forest behind them. He said the Luthors didn’t come there, but Kara thought his tone implied something—that the Luthors weren’t allowed; they were prohibited. His manner left a strange impression on Kara, and she tried to ignore it without success. 

Maggie interrupted Kara’s thoughts. “So, is Forks driving you insane yet?”

“That might be an understatement.” Kara breathed out, knowing her answer was entirely about Lena. Maggie grinned in understanding, though, taking the answer the way it was supposed to have been.

Kara was still turning over the brief comment on the Luthors and had a sudden idea—a stupid plan, really, but she had no better ideas. 

“Do you wanna take a walk down the beach with me?” Kara asked, and sure enough, Maggie jumped up willingly, seeming to want to escape the strange oppressive cloud that descended around them.

They walked north across the multihued stones toward the driftwood seawall; the clouds finally closed ranks across the sky, causing the sea to darken and the temperature to drop. Kara shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets, pretending to be cold.

“Have you come up to Forks at all since you left the school?” 

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been kind of stuck here. My aunts been keeping me stuck at home but won’t tell me why.”

Kara hummed in acknowledgment before changing the subject. “Who was that other boy Imra was talking to? He seemed a little older.”

“That’s Sam—he’s nineteen.” Maggie supplied easily.

“What was that he was saying about the doctor’s family.” Kara asked, curiosity clear in her tone.

“The Luthors… apparently they’re not supposed to come onto the reservation.” She looked away, out toward James Island, her voice mirroring Sam’s tone slightly but without the same amount of antipathy.

“Why not?” Maggie glanced back at Kara before shaking her head.

“I don’t know Kara; I’m just learning about everything. I don’t think I’m supposed to say anything.”

“I won’t tell anyone; I’m just trying to understand since I didn’t grow up here or anything.” Kara responded earnestly. 

Maggie raised an eyebrow—it didn’t have the same effect as when Lena did it—and her cheeks dimpled as she gave a sardonic smile. “Do you like scary stories?”

“I love them,” Kara falsely enthused. In fact, she tended to stay away from them. Maggie walked over to a nearby driftwood tree with its roots sticking out like the attenuated legs of a vast, pale spider. She perched lightly on one of the twisted roots while Kara sat beneath her on the tree’s body. Maggie stared down at the rocks, clearly thinking. 

“Do you know any of the old stories about where we—the Quileute’s—came from?” Maggie began.

“Not really—honestly, I didn’t know about the tribe until I moved here,” she admitted, flushing in embarrassment.

“Well, there are a lot of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood—supposedly, the ancient Quileute’s tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest tree on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark.” Maggie shook her head at the prospect. “Another legend claims that they’re—we’re,” she amended, “are descended from wolves, and that the wolves are our brothers still. It’s actually against tribal law to kill them.”

“Then there are the stories about the cold ones.” Maggie’s voice dropped lower, her dimples disappearing as a frown took their place.

“The cold ones?” Kara asked, shifting in her seat slightly, intrigued.

“Yeah. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and apparently, some much more recent. According to the legend, supposedly, my great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our lands.” She rolled her eyes. “These are all things that my aunt has been telling me though, some of it from the tribe themselves but they’re all a little wary of me since I was never around. I didn’t even know I was part Quileute until recently.”

“Who was your great-grandfather?”

“A tribal elder… like my mother… apparently anyway. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies to the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like the tribe’s ancestors. I guess they would be likened to werewolves.”

Kara was even more confused about how this was related to the Luthors if it involved a legend like werewolves.

“Werewolves have enemies?”

Maggie shrugged, “Only one. So, traditionally, the cold ones are our enemies. But a pack of them came to our territory during my great-grandfather’s time. They claimed to be different. They didn’t hunt the way others of their kind did—they weren’t supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So, my great-grandfather seemingly made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off Quileute land, we wouldn’t expose them to the pale faces.”

“If they weren’t dangerous, then why…?” Kara tried to understand, struggling not to let Maggie see how seriously she was considering her ghost story. 

“There’s always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they’re civilized like this clan was. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist.” Maggie was frowning again.

“What do you mean, ‘civilized’?”

“They claimed that they didn’t hunt humans. They supposedly were somehow able to prey on animals instead.”

Kara tried to keep her voice casual. “So how does this fit in with the Luthors? Are they like the cold ones your great-grandfather met?”

“No.” Maggie paused dramatically, the dimples appearing again. “They are the same ones.” Maggie must have thought Kara’s expression was fear-inspired by the story and continued with glee. “There are more of them now, a new female and a new male, but the rest are in the same. In my great-grandfather’s time, they already knew of the leader, Lionel. He’d been here and gone before your people have even arrived.” Maggie appeared to have been fighting off a laugh.

“And what are they?” Kara finally asked. “What are the cold ones?” Maggie smiled darkly, a strange countenance to her usual demeanor. 

“Blood drinkers. You people call them vampires.”

Kara stared out at the rough surf after Maggie answered, unsure what her face was exposing. She still idly wondered if it was an alien species that crashed to Earth long ago.

“You looked worried.” She laughed delightedly.

“You’re a good storyteller.” Kara responded, still staring into the waves.

“Pretty crazy shit though, isn’t it? No wonder my aunt doesn’t want us to talk about it to anyone.”

Kara couldn’t control her expression enough to look at her yet and awkwardly fiddled with her glasses. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you away.”

“I think I just violated the treaty,” she laughed.

“I’ll take it to the grave,” however long that may be.

“Seriously, though, don’t say anything to Eliza. She seemed pretty upset when she heard that some of the natives weren’t going to the hospital since Dr. Luthor started working there.”

“I won’t, of course not.” Kara shook her head, debating whether or not to at least tell Alex. 

“Do you think they’re a bunch of superstitious natives or what?” Maggie asked in a playful tone, but Kara could tell that Maggie was also worried Kara may have judged her for it, especially since it was a part of Maggie’s heritage now. 

Kara finally managed to look away from the ocean and attempted to smile. “Not at all. Every culture has their own myths and legends.” Another day, another painful reminder in Krypton found in the mundane ways of life.

Then Kara heard the sound of beach rocks clattering against each other, warning them that someone was approaching. Their heads snapped up simultaneously to see Mike and Imra about fifty yards away, walking toward them. 

Imra looked beyond irritated. “There you are, Kara.” Mike called in relief, waving his arm over his head. 

“He’s still after you?” Maggie asked, alerted to the clear jealous edge in Mike’s tone. Kara was surprised it was so obvious.

“Unfortunately.” Kara whispered back.

They approached too quickly for Maggie or Kara’s liking—neither was particularly fond of Mike and his cohorts. 

“Where have you been?” he asked, despite the answer being right in front of him.

“Maggie was just telling me some local stories. Pretty interesting stuff.” Kara was fiddling with the bottom hem of her jacket.

“Well,” Mike paused, carefully eyeing Maggie like he thought she was a threat. “We’re packing up—it looks like it’s going to rain soon.”

Kara already knew, she could sense it before it happened. She could smell the rain approaching, could hear and feel the dull, distant thunder before it ever arrived, but she still looked up at the glowering sky. Rain was certain. 

“Okay.” Kara jumped up. “I’m coming.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” Maggie said. Kara could tell she was attempting to goad Mike, and she went with it.

“It really was,” Kara smiled brightly. I’ll try to visit soon,” she promised. Maggie’s dimples were in full force again before she nodded and sauntered off with an amount of bravado that Kara was confident only Maggie could achieve. 

Kara pulled up her hood as they tramped across the rocks toward the nearby parking lot. A few raindrops began falling, making black spots on the stones where they landed. When they reached the car, her friends were already beginning to clamber in— James had already called shotgun. So, she climbed in the back with Nia and Brainy, closing her eyes as everyone chatted amongst themselves, trying very hard not to think about Lena Luthor.

Chapter Text

“Of all the things you choose in life, you don't get to choose what your nightmares are. You don't pick them; they pick you.”

- John Irving

Kara told Eliza she had a lot of homework to do, and that she wasn’t hungry. Eliza hadn’t batted an eye at the homework but gave Kara a worried look at the mention of the lack of appetite. Eliza didn’t voice it, for that Kara was grateful for as she hurried up the stairs.

Once in her room, she locked the door. She dug around in the drawer of her desk until she found an older pair of headphones that used to be Alex’s. She plugged them into the CD player that had used to belong to Jeremiah, before inserting the CD that Alex had once gifted her. It was one of Alex’s favorite bands, one of the few Kara had little interest in. She found there was too much bass and yelling for her taste. With the CD player in hand and the headphones securely over her ears, she plopped down onto her mattress, hit play, and turned the volume all the way up to the point it started to hurt her ears. She closed her eyes, but the light was still intruding so she hastily grabbed one of her pillows and placed it over her face.

Kara concentrated very carefully on the music, trying to understand the lyrics, to unravel the complicated drum patterns and the way the guitars played different keys and rifts. By the third time she’d listened to the CD, she knew all the words to each song.

And it worked. The shattering beats made it impossible for Kara to think— which was the whole purpose. She listened to the CD over and over again, singing the songs in a whisper before eventually, sleep consumed her.

***

Kara opened her eyes to a familiar place. She was aware that it was a dream— everything had a strange haze to it, too unreal and the colors were all wrong.

Regardless, she still recognized the green light of the forest. She could hear the waves crashing against rocks somewhere nearby, but it was muted in a sense. Too dull to be real. Kara knew it was the ocean, that if she followed the diluted sounds, she’d find the sun again. She was trying to follow the sound, but then Maggie Sawyer was there, tugging at Kara’s hand, pulling her back toward the blackest part of the forest.

“Maggie? What’s wrong?” Even Kara’s voice was distorted, an inhuman sound. Maggie’s face was frightened, and she yanked Kara with all her strength against Kara resistance— Kara realized she was powerless in this dream, but she knew she didn’t want to go back into the dark. She’d spent two decades suspended in darkness, shrouded in the loss of time as Phantoms clawed at her pod— her suffocating, restricting pod.

“Run, Kara, you have to run!” she whispered, terrified.

“This way, Kara!” She recognized Winn’s voice calling out somewhere deep in the gloomy heart of trees.

“Why?” Kara shouted back, terror knifing through her as she tried to escape to the sun, to leave the darkness behind. Now, her nightmares were mixed with the present and the past.

Maggie then let out an agonizing shout before falling to the forest floor, her body twitching as Kara watched in horror.

“Maggie!” Kara screamed, but she was gone.

In Maggie’s place was a large russet colored wolf with black eyes, standing at eye level with Kara. The wolf faced away, its snout pointing toward the shore, the fur down its spine and shoulders bristling, deafening grows leaving the dangerous fangs of its maul.

“Kara, run!” Winn called out again, this time behind her. But she didn’t turn, she was distracted by the approaching light coming from the beach.

And then Lena stepped out from the trees, her skin faintly glowing and her eyes a dangerous flat black. She raised one hand and beckoned for Kara to come near.

The wolf at her side growled, its massive paw digging into the forest floor, and it hunched, springs coiled tightly as the beast threatened to lunge.

Kara took a step forward, toward Lena. She smiled then, but her teeth were sharp, pointed, and nothing like the dazzling smile Kara had grown used to.

“Trust me,” the Americanized accent was entirely gone, replaced by the true Irish lilt that Lena fought to tamper down each day.

She took another step.

The wolf launched itself across the space between Kara and the vampire, fangs aiming for the jugular.

“No!” Kara screamed, wrenching upright out of her bed, precariously floating and her eyes glowing intensely.

The sudden movement caused the headphones to pull the CD player off the beside table, clattering to the wooden floor.

The light was still on, and she lowered her body back down the bed, realizing she was still fully dressed, her shoes still on. She glanced, disoriented, at the digital clock on her dresser. It was three-seventeen in the morning.

She groaned, fell back, and rolled over onto her face and kicked her boots off. She was too uncomfortable, too emotionally spent to get anywhere near sleep. She rolled back over to unbutton her jeans and awkwardly shimmy out of them in her hellbent objective to stay horizontal.

It had been no use of course. Kara’s subconscious had dredged up exactly the images she had been trying to avoid. Now, she was forced to face them, to acknowledge them, to reconcile the images with reality. Abruptly, Kara sat up, left her room, grabbed a towel from the bathroom closet, and stepped into the shower. She turned it as hot as it would, barely feeling the heat and wishing desperately that she could.

The shower didn’t last nearly as long as she would have liked. She took the time to brush her teeth, blow dry her hair, and eventually she ran out of things to do in the bathroom. Wrapped in a towel, she crossed back to her room. She listened intently for a moment before realizing Eliza wasn’t in the house. She expanded her hearing, carefully and with concentrated effort to pinpoint the exact place she needed. Eliza had been on call; she was rushing someone into emergency surgery right now.

Kara returned to herself, regulating her hearing back to a normal inconspicuous amount before she began to dress. She grabbed her most comfortable black sweatpants and the deep blue and worn National City High School sweater: the end of the sleeves was frayed with the assault of Kara’s nervous habit.

In her home, she played no pretenses and left her lead-lined glasses on the bedside table before sitting at her desk and switching on her old laptop. Out here, essentially in the middle of nowhere, the Wi-Fi was nearly obsolete. Kara grumbled as her computer slowly booted up, missing Krypton’s technology and opting to go make a bowl of cereal while she waited.

She chewed slowly, forcing herself not to devour the bowl in three seconds flat, trying to quell her anxiety. When she was done, she washed her bowl and spoon— miraculously, both remained intact. Her feet dragged as she walked back up the stairs, the thought of floating up them never even occurred to Kara. Once in her room, she beelined for the CD player first, picked it up off the floor, checked for damage, and then placed in the center of her nightstand table. She grabbed the discarded headphones that had detached from the CD player in the wake of her nightmare and placed them squarely in the drawer of her desk. Then she put the same CD on, lowering the volume until it was purely background noise.

With a great sigh, she turned to her laptop. She sat in the wooden chair, clicked on Chrome, and waited patiently for it to open. She typed one word.

Vampire.

It took an infuriatingly long time for any search results to show. When the results finally populated, there was a lot to sift through— everything from movies and TV shows to role-playing games, underground metal, and gothic cosmetic companies.

Eventually, Kara finally found a promising looking site— Vampires A-Z. Kara waited impatiently for it to load, clicking away the pop up adds the accompanied it while she waited. Finally, the screen loaded: simple white background with black text— almost academic looking. Two quotes greeted Kara on the home page:

“‘Throughout the vast shadowy world of ghosts and demons there is no figure so terrible, no figure so dreaded and abhorred, yet dight with such fearful fascination, as the vampire, who is himself neither ghost nor demon, but yet who partakes the dark natures and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities of both. —Rev. Montague Summers

If there is in this world a well-attested account, it is that of the vampires. Nothing is lacking: official reports, affidavits of well-known people, of surgeons, of priests, of magistrates; the judicial proof is most complete. And with all that, who is there who believes in vampires? —Rousseau’”

The rest of the site was an alphabetized listing of all the different myths of vampires held throughout the world. The first Kara clicked on, Danag, was a Filipino vampire supposedly responsible for planting taro on the island long ago. The myth continued that the Danag worked with humans for many years, but the partnership ended one day when a woman cut her finger and a Danag sucked her wound, enjoying the taste so much that it drained her body completely of blood.

Kara read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible. It seemed that most vampire myths centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed to Kara like a construct created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children, and to give an excuse for infidelity. Several of the stories Kara read involved bodiless spirits and warnings against improper burials. She tried to skim over those; bodiless spirits resembled the phantoms far too much in Kara’s mind. Kara hadn’t seen many vampire movies, but there wasn’t much that seemed to resemble the ones she had seen anyway. Even few, like the Hebrew Estrie and the Polish Upier, were preoccupied with drinking blood.

Only three entries managed to truly snag Kara’s attention: the Romanian Varacolaci, a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful, pale-skinned human; the Slovak Nelapsi, a creature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in the single hour after midnight; and the other: Stregoni Benefici.

This last one held only a brief sentence.

Stregoni Benefici: an Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.

Kara felt relief from that one small entry, the only myth among hundreds that claimed the existence of good vampires.

Overall, though, there was little that coincided with Maggie’s stories or her own observation. She’d catalogued in her mind as she carefully read and compared it with what she knew. Speed, strength, beauty, pale skin, eyes that shift colors, cold-skinned; and then Maggie’s criteria: blood drinkers, enemies of the werewolves, immortal. There were very few myths that matched even one factor.

There was another small problem, one that Kara remembered from the minimal number of scary movies she’d seen as well as what she’d read so far—vampires couldn’t come out in the daytime, the sun would burn them to cinders. They slept in coffins all day and came out only at night. Aggravated, she closed the lid of her laptop and stood, pacing the floor. She felt overwhelming embarrassment in that moment. It was all so stupid. There Kara was, sitting in her room, researching vampires.

With another aggrieved sigh, she resulted to opening the bottom of her dresser drawer and dug around until she emerged with a gleaming, fragile crystal. Carefully, she placed the crystal on the floor, activated it, and stepped back.

A moment later, the holographic form of her mother flickered to life, materializing from the crystal, and with it, her memories.

“Hi, Mom.” Kara’s voice broke slightly, trying to keep the tears at bay. There was a reason she didn’t bring the crystal out often.

“Hello, Kara.” She sighed deeply, relieved to hear her mother’s voice even if it wasn’t real, wasn’t authentic and merely a recording.

“You seem troubled, inah. What ails you?”

Kara shook her head, still feeling ridiculous. “Um, Mom, would you—I don’t—is there—” Kara’s jaw snapped closed, taking another deep breath. “Do you know… do you know anything about—about vampires?”

“The term is unfamiliar to me. Could you enlighten me?”

Kara hummed, trying to find a generic explanation that the memories of her mother might know.

“Are there any species that… drink blood? That are, I don’t know, fah dhehraogh?”

“None that comes to mind. Though, where blood is concerned, there were Transilvanians, from the planet Transilvane. Little is known of them; they’ve always shrouded away.” Alura responded, voice smooth and calm and nothing like Kara’s babbling.

Defeated again, Kara, with tears in her eyes, said goodbye to her mother and returned the crystal to the drawer.

She needed to get out of the house, that, Kara was certain off. Forced to hide herself, rendering it impossible for her to fly off somewhere, she had no where she wanted to go that didn’t involve a three-day drive. She pulled on her boots anyway, unclear of her destination as she went downstairs and shrugged into her raincoat, and practically ran out the door.

It was overcast, but not yet raining. Kara ignored the truck and started on foot, angling across the yard toward the ever-encroaching forest. It didn’t take long before she was deep enough for the house and road to become invisible to the naked eye. The only thing that remained was the squelch of the damp earth under her feet and the wildlife around her.

Kara followed no trails, even if there was a perfectly good thin ribbon of one somewhere nearby. Kara’s sense of direction was perfect, even without her extraordinary senses. She wandered deeper and deeper into the forest, mostly heading east. The forest held the Sitka spruces and hemlocks, the yews and the maples. Kara enjoyed plants, naming each plant and tree she saw with perfect recall—plants reminded her of herself, the way they absorbed solar radiation and thrived. She kept delving deeper, letting her frustrations push her forward. Eventually, as her frustrations and anger dwindled, being carried away by the serenity of the forest, she slowed. A few drops of moisture trickled down from the canopy above her; not yet rain, but rather the pools of water remaining on the expanse of large leaves returning their water back to earth.

Kara stumbled upon a recently fallen tree—recent judging by its lack of overgrown moss—resting against the trunk of another tree, creating a sheltered little bench. She stepped over the ferns and sat carefully, making sure her jacket was between the damp wood and her clothes, and leaned her hooded head back against the living tree.

Despite the serenity, Kara knew it was the wrong place to go, she knew that, but where was she to go? The forest was deep green and far too much like the scene in last night’s dream to allow for much peace of mind. Sitting there, in the un-silent silence, she listened as the birds changed the frequency of their caws and chirps as the rain started to descend.

Regardless, in the trees, it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed her indoors. Nothing had changed in the forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands seemed more plausible in the green haze over the forest than they had in her overwhelmingly normal clear-cut bedroom.

Kara forced herself to focus on the two most vital questions she had to answer but did so unwillingly.

First, she had to decide if it was possible that what Maggie had said about the Luthors could be true.

Immediately her mind responded with a resounding negative. It was silly and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions. But what then? Kara asked herself.

There was only one rational explanation she could think of at that moment. She listed in her head again the things she’d observed: the incredible speed and strength, the eye color shifting from black to gold to green and everywhere in between, the inhuman beauty, the pale, frigid skin. And more—small things that registered slowly—how they never seemed to eat, the disturbing grace with which they moved. And the way Lena spoke sometimes, with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the style of a turn-of-the-century novel than that of a twenty-first-century classroom. She had skipped class the day they’d done blood typing. She hadn’t said no to the beach trip until she heard where Kara was going. She seemed to know what everyone was thinking… except Kara. Lena had told Kara that she was the villain, dangerous.

Could the Luthors be vampires?

Kara shook her head. Her mother knew little of Transilvanians, it was entirely possible that they were the aliens that even spurred the notion of vampires in the world. That made more sense to Kara. She knew though that Lena Luthor was not human, she was something more.

So then—maybe, Kara decided—that would have to be her answer for now. Second, what was Kara going to do if it was true? Another alien—aliens—on Earth, besides Kara and Kal? That would be monumental. Kara quickly decided she couldn’t involve anyone else—not Eliza, not Alex, and definitely not her friends. She wasn’t going to out Lena and her family as aliens, not when she was one herself. Only two options seemed practical.

The first was to take Lena’s advice: to be smart, to avoid Lena as much as possible. To cancel their plans, to go back to ignoring Lena as far as possible. To pretend there was an impenetrably thick glass wall between them in the one class they were forced together. To tell Lena to leave her alone—and mean it that time. She had no clue if Transilvanians could harm Kara, if she could be killed by them. But when the thought of being left alone by Lena crossed Kara’s mind, she was seized with the agony of despair as she considered that alternative. Kara’s mind rejected the pain, quickly skipping on to the next choice.

Kara could simply do nothing. After all, if Lena was an alien… something sinister, she’d done nothing to hurt Kara so far. In fact, Lena thought she had saved Kara’s life, she had acted so quickly that Kara wondered if it was sheer reflex. And if it was a reflex to save lives—like Kara had—how bad could Lena be?

Kara’s head spun around in answerless circles.

There was one thing Kara was sure of, if she was sure of anything. The dark Lena in her dream was a reflection only of her fear of the words Maggie had spoken, and not Lena herself. Even so, when Kara had screamed out in terror at the werewolf’s lunge, it wasn’t fear for the wolf that brought out her desperate cry. It was a fear that Lena would be harmed—even as she called to Kara with sharp-edged fangs, she feared for Lena. In that, Kara knew she had her answer. She didn’t know if there ever was a choice, really. She was already in too deep. Now that she knew—if she knew—Kara could do nothing about her other frightening secret. Because even when Kara thought of Lena, of her voice, her hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of her odd personality, Kara wanted nothing more than to be with Lena in that moment.

Even if… but Kara shut the thought down. She couldn’t think more about it, not there, alone in the dark forest. Not while the rain made it dim as twilight, a half-light between dawn and sunrise, the in between moments when the upper rim of the Sun appears on the horizon in the beginning of morning, the moment before a plethora of nameless colors splash and collide with one another to make something utterly beautiful. The canopy of trees allowed the rain to fall like pattered footsteps across the matted earthen floor, singing a chorus to the melody the half-light provided, and Kara quickly stood, feeling like an intruder to nature itself.

Kara began her journey back, forcing herself to keep a measured human pace as she attempted to keep her head steady atop her shoulders. Walking at herself sustained pace, she realized just how far she had ambled. She was miles away from home. Eventually, she broke free of the trees, having glimpsed the house through open spaces of webbed branches moments before.

Shockingly, it was nearing noon when Kara walked back inside. She went upstairs, disregarding her soggy clothes as she dressed for the day. Which wasn’t much since she was staying indoors for the rest of the day. It was another T-shirt and a pair of green flannel bottoms that reminded her of Lena’s eyes. It didn’t take too much effort for Kara to concentrate on her task for the day, a paper on Macbeth that was due Wednesday. Kara skipped the outline part—she found them redundant—and immediately got to work on her paper. She was content now, more serene than she’d felt since Thursday afternoon, if she was being honest.

That was how Kara had always been. Making decisions was painful for Kara, it bared down on her heavily and it was the part she agonized over. Once the decision was made, she simply followed through—usually with relief that the choice was made. Sometimes the relief was tainted by despair, but that was neither here nor there. Kara’s decision regarding Lena was ridiculously easy to live with. Dangerously easy. And so, the day was quiet, productive—she finished her paper before four and did more reading. Eliza came home, looked harried and with a large fish Charlie had gifted her for dinner. Kara made a mental note to buy Eliza some fish recipe books while she was in Seattle the next week. The chills Kara felt now when she thought of the trip were no different than the ones she’d felt before she’d taken the walk with Maggie Sawyer. Kara felt that maybe she should feel afraid, but she couldn't bring herself too.

Kara slept dreamlessly that night, her mind exhausted from the day before. Kara woke, for the second time since arriving in Forks, to the bright yellow light of a sunny day. She glided to the window, stunned to see there was hardly a cloud in the sky this time. She couldn’t help the wide smile that overtook her face; she truly had missed the sun. Eliza noticed at once.

“Beautiful day out,” Eliza commented, smiling softly at the joy she saw radiating from her youngest daughter.

“Yup,” Kara agreed, popping the “p” as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

Eliza’s smile widened, her blue eyes crinkling around the edges as she shook her head, already plating breakfast.

Kara scarfed down breakfast cheerily, watching the dust moats stirring in the sunlight that streamed in the back window. Eventually Eliza cleaned up, kissing Kara on top of her head as she gave her goodbyes before leaving for work when her pager beeped loudly. When Kara was ready, she stood by the door, hesitating with her hand on her rain jacket. She was tempted to leave it at home, but with a resigned sigh she folded it over her arm and stepped out into the brightest light she’d seen in months.

Her excitement nearly led to her breaking the handles for the windows in her haste to roll them down, but she managed to curb it enough to leave the inside of her truck intact. Kara was one of the first to arrive at school, having been too excited to check what time it was when she left, so she parked her truck and headed toward the seldom-used picnic benches on the south side of the cafeteria. The benches were still damp, so she carefully laid her jacket down to sit on, glad to have use for it. Her homework was finished, but she pulled it out anyway, adding unnecessary work to her Trig homework—lest everyone finds out she could do it all in her head in half a second or think she cheated. That would definitely raise suspicion either way.  But halfway through adding the work, she started day dreaming, watching the sunlight play on the red-barked trees. She sketched inattentively along the margins of her homework. After a few minutes, Kara suddenly realized she’d drawn five pairs of dark eyes staring out of the pages at her. Quickly, she scrubbed them away with her eraser.

“Kara!” She heard someone call, someone that sounded suspiciously like Mike. She looked around, realizing the school had become populated while she’d sat there absentmindedly. Everyone was in t-shirts, some even in shorts though Kara reckoned the temperature couldn’t be over sixty. Mike was coming toward her in khaki shorts and a striped rugby shirt, waving.

“Hey, Mike,” Kara called, waving back, unable to be annoyed just yet on a morning like this.

He came to sit beside Kara, his hair tidy and his scruffy beard trimmed, his grin stretching across his face. Mike was uncomfortably excited to see her.

“I never noticed how blue your eyes are before,” he commented. The wind blew past, and Kara felt uncomfortable as he caught a stray lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Kara ducked her head, anxiously fiddling with her glasses, but Mike didn’t seem to catch the unease.

“Great day, isn’t?”

“My kind of day,” Kara agreed, her voice coming out more hollow than she intended.

“What did you do yesterday?” His tone was nearly proprietary.

“I finished my essay.” Mike frowned, hitting his forehead with the heel of his hand.

“Oh yeah—that’s due Thursday, right?”

“Uh, Wednesday, I think.”

“Wednesday?’ His frowned deepened, “That’s not good… What did you write yours on?”

“Whether Shakespeare’s treatment of the female characters is misogynistic.”

Mike blinked, staring at Kara as if she’d just spoken a different language. She might as well have.

“I guess I’ll have to get to work on that tonight,” he grumbled. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go out.”

“Oh.” Kara was taken off guard, wondering why she could never have a pleasant and friendly conversation with Mike that didn’t end up awkward.

“Well, we could go to dinner or something… and I could work on it later.” It wasn’t hope in his tone, but rather self-assured arrogance, as if Kara would never say no.

“Mike…I uh,” Kara hated this, “I don’t think—think that would be a… good idea.” She stumbled out, watching as Mike’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Why?” he asked, arrogance still present but his eyes guarded. Kara’s thoughts flickered to Lena, wondering if that’s where Mike’s thoughts were as well.

“Mike, I’m just… I’m not into you like that.”

He looked bewildered, almost confused that Kara didn’t like him. “Plus, you know, Imra is like super into you.”

“Oh,” he looked dazed, slightly wounded, and Kara took her chance of escape.

“It’s time for class, I can’t be late again.” She gathered her homework, stuffing it all back into her back before silently making it to building three.

When Kara saw Nia in Trig later in the day, Nia was bubbling with enthusiasm. She and Winn were going shopping for the dance and wanted Kara to come despite her having no need too. It would be nice to spend time with her friends outside of town, but she was indecisive. Kara didn’t know what she’d be doing in the evening—which was unquestionably the wrong path to let her mind wander down. Of course, Kara was thrilled about the sunlight, but that wasn’t completely responsible for her euphoric mood, not even close.

So, Kara gave Nia a maybe, telling her she’d have to talk to Eliza first. Nia talked of nothing but the dance on the way to Spanish, continuing as if without an interruption when class finally ended, five minutes late, and then on the way to lunch. Kara, though happy for Nia and enthused by the excitement radiating off the shorter girl, was far too lost in her own frenzy of anticipation to notice much of what she said. Kara was painfully eager to see not just Lena but all the Luthors—to compare them with the new suspicions that plagued her mind. As she crossed the threshold of the cafeteria, she wondered if Lena would be sitting alone again—waiting for Kara to join her.

As was Kara’s routine, she glanced first toward the Luthors’ table. A shadow of panic gripped her as she realized the table was empty. With dwindling hope, Kara’s eyes scoured the rest of the cafeteria intently, hoping to find Lena alone, waiting for her. The place was nearly filled—Spanish having made them late—but there was no sign of Lena or any of her family. Desolation hit Kara with crippling strength.

Kara shambled behind Nia, trying desperately and unsuccessfully to focus on her words. Everyone else was already at their table, and Kara quietly took her seat next to Winn.

Winn had asked a few questions about the Macbeth paper, which Kara answered as naturally as she could while spiraling downward in misery, wondering if Lena had finally realized how uninteresting Kara was. Winn too invited Kara to go with them tonight, and she agreed now, hoping to distract from anything Lena Luthor related.

Kara realized she’d been holding on to a last shred of hope when she entered Biology, saw Lena’s empty seat, and felt a new wave of disappointment. The rest of the day passed slowly, dismally. In Gym, they had a lecture on the rules of badminton, the next sport they had lined up. Kara was grateful for the reprieve, glad to sit and listen instead of stumbling around the court trying not to injure anybody. The best part was that coach Lord didn’t finish, so Kara had another day off tomorrow which allowed her to figure out how not to hit the birdie too hard and rip a hole through the netting of the racket.

She was glad to leave campus, to be free from anyone as she moped before she went out later. However, as soon as Kara walked through the front door of the house, Nia called to cancel plans. Kara, while disappointed, was happy for Nia—Brainy had asked her out on a proper date. The shopping trip was rescheduled to tomorrow.

Which left Kara with little in the way of distractions. She spent ten minutes on her homework, but when she was through with that, she checked her text messages. She had a plethora from Alex, all of them of varying worries and questions if she was okay. She sighed and typed a quick response, wishing she could see Alex instead.

hey al! sorry, ive been out to the beach with a couple friends and then had to write a paper [3:22]

Her excuses were flimsy at best, and she knew Alex was busy with class, which gave her time to prepare for the inevitable phone call.

its sunny out today, which is super shocking. so im going to go outside and soak up as much solar radiation as i can. love you <3 [3:25]

Kara decided to kill an hour with non-school-related reading. She had a minor collection of books and moved to the small stack and picked up a few books at random. She then headed to the backyard, grabbing an old quilt from the linen cupboard at the top of the stairs on her way down.

Outside in the small square yard, Kara folded the quilt in half and laid it out of the reach of the trees’ shadows on the thick lawn that would always be slightly wet, no matter how much the sun shone. She then laid on her stomach, crossing her ankles in the air as she grabbed one of the aforementioned books. She blanched as she looked at the cover: Lena Rivers by Mary J. Holmes. Kara instantly set the book down and grabbed another: Of Lena Geyer by Marcia Davenport.

Kara’s head collided with the quilt, groaning in frustration. Weren’t there any other names available between the eighteenth and nineteenth hundreds? Annoyed, she rolled on her back. Kara pushed her sleeves up as high as they would go and closed her eyes. She tried to convince herself that she would think of nothing but the warmth of the sun on her skin, of her cells being infused with radiation. The breeze was still light but was insistent with its endeavors as it blew tendrils of her hair around her face. Kara pulled it from her face, letting her golden hair fan out on the quilt above her, and focused again on the warmth that touched her eyelids, her cheekbones, her nose, her lips, her forearms, her neck, soaking through the thin fabric of her shirt…

***

The next thing Kara was consciously aware of was the sounds of Eliza’s car turning onto the concrete of the driveway. Kara sat up in surprise, realizing that the light was gone, behind the trees, and that she had fallen asleep. Kara looked around, muddled, with the sudden feeling she wasn’t alone.

“Eliza?” Kara asked but could only hear the car door shutting softly.

Kara shook her head before gathering the now-damp quilt and her abandoned book. They met each other in the kitchen, the smell of antiseptic greeting Kara.

“Did you fall asleep in the sun, sweetheart?” Kara flushed, nodding her head at Eliza’s endearing question. “Come on, I got us Chinese again.” At that, Kara perked up and happily followed Eliza into the living room. They put on Kara’s favorite movie, the Wizard of Oz, once again, and idly discussed their days as the movie went on.

Once they’d finished with Chinese and briefly paused the movie to clean up, Kara spoke, “Eliza, Nia and Winn are going dress and suit shopping for the dance—tomorrow—in Port Angles, and they uh, they wanted me to help them choose. Would you mind if I—if I went?”

“Nia Nal and Winslow Schott Junior?” Eliza asked and Kara bobbed her head.

“Seems alright to me, but it is a school night.”

“We’ll leave right after school so we can get back early.”

“Alright, have fun sweetheart.” She kissed Kara’s head again, “I’m beat, I’m going to go take a shower and head to bed.”

***

It was sunny again in the morning. Kara awakened with renewed hope that she grimly tried to temper down. She dressed for the warmer weather in a plain black t-shirt and loose jeans—something she would have worn in the dead of winter in National City. She arrived at school, running late. With a sinking heart, Kara circled the full parking lot looking for a space, while also searching for the silver Volvo that was clearly not there. Kara parked in the last row and hurried to English, arriving just before the final bell.

Her day went the same as yesterday—Kara couldn’t keep little sprouts of hope from budding in her mind, only to have them quashed as she searched the lunchroom in vain and sat at her empty table in Biology. Thankfully, the Port Angeles plans were still on; Kara was anxious to get out of town so she could stop glancing over her shoulder, hoping to see Lena appearing out of the blue in the way she always did. Kara also refused to think that she might be shopping alone in Seattle this weekend. Surely, Lena wouldn’t cancel without at least telling Kara.

After school, Winn with Nia followed Kara home in the old minivan so Kara could ditch her books and truck. She quickly snagged her wallet from her backpack and shoved into the back pocket of her jeans and ran out to join her friends.

Her excitement seemed to skyrocket as they drove past the town limits.

Chapter Text

“Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.”

- Maya Angelou

Winn drove relatively fast, so they made it to Port Angeles by four. Kara had never truly had a night out with friends, so the rush of the new experience—of having genuine friends—was invigorating. Rock songs colored the background as Nia went on about her date with Brainy; Brainy was awkward but sweet the entire time and had eventually admitted it was his first time going on a date. Winn himself was exuberated to be going to the dance and had thanked Kara profusely for pushing him in the right direction.

Port Angeles was a beautiful little tourist trap, much more polished and quainter than Forks. Winn and Nia knew it well, so they didn’t plan to waste their time on the picturesque boardwalk by the bay like Kara was tempted to do. Winn drove straight to the one big department store in town, which was a few streets in from the bay area’s visitor-friendly face.

The dance was decidedly semiformal, and the three of them weren’t exactly sure what that meant. Both Winn and Nia seemed surprised and almost disbelieving when Kara told them she’d only ever been to one dance in National City—a dance that ended with a broken nose. They didn’t need to know about the other three instances and the events that led up to those—sophomore year was a strange time for Kara.

“So have you never gone to a dance with a girlfriend or something?” Nia asked dubiously, shocking Kara by the easy acceptance of her newfound sexuality.

“Well, I’d only ever been to a dance once—with the boy who’s nose I broke with my crap dancing—and I didn’t know I liked girls until Winn so eloquently announced it to me in the hallway.” They all laughed at that, mirth flowing easily between them. “Plus no one ever asked me besides Kenny. I was kind of the outcast or whatever.”

“Well, plenty of people have asked you out here.” Winn chided in. “and you told them no, which totally get. Half of them are dimwits.” They were scanning the racks of dresses for Nia now.

“Well, except for Adam.” Winn amended with a curious look.

“What?” Kara gasped, eyes wide behind the frames of her glasses. “What did—what? What did you say?”

“Adam told everyone he’s taking you to prom,” Nia informed, looking concerned.

“He said what?” Kara’s mouth floundered as she shook her head quickly.

“I knew it wasn’t true. Want me to beat him up for ya?” Winn asked, resting his hand on Kara’s tense shoulder as she stood there silently, lost in shock that was quickly turning into irritation.

Kara ground her teeth. “Do you think that if I ran him over with my truck, he would stop feeling guilty about the accident? That he might give up on making amends and call it even? Maybe I should throw him into space.” She muttered the last part, wondering if she could get Alex to threaten him. 

“Maybe,” Nia laughed, “If that’s why he’s doing it anyway. You never know with boys—no offense Winn.”

“None taken!” He replied cheerily. The dress and suit sections weren’t large and both of them found outfits to try on rather fast. Kara sat on a low chair just inside the dressing room, by the three-way mirror, trying to control her fuming.

Winn was torn between two suits—one solid black number, the other an electric blue with dark accents that complimented his complexion. Kara encouraged the blue suit; why not have fun in a colorful suit? Nia chose a pale pink dress that draped around her frame and brought out honey tints in her dark brown hair. Kara complimented them both generously and helped by returning the rejects to their racks.

The whole process was much shorter and easier than similar trips she’d taken with Alex back home. Maybe there was something to be said about limited choices. They then headed over to shoes and accessories. While the pair tried things on, Kara merely watched and critiqued, not in the mood to shop for herself, though she did need new shoes. The euphoria for the outing was wearing out in the wake of annoyance toward Adam, leaving room for the stormy cloud to make its return over Kara’s head.

“Nia?” Kara began, hesitant while she was trying on a pair of pink strappy heels—she was overjoyed to have a date tall enough for her to wear heels at all.

Winn had drifted over to the jewelry counter, leaving them alone.

“Yeah?” She held her leg out twisting her ankle to get a better view of the shoe.

Kara chickened out. “I like those a lot.”

“I think I’ll get them—though they’ll ever match anything but the one dress.” She mused.

“I think you should go ahead—they’re on sale anyway.” Kara encouraged, watching as Nia put the lid back on a box that held more practical-looking off-white shoes. Kara tried again.

“Is it… Is it normal for the… Luthors”—Kara kept her eyes on the shoes— “to be out of school a lot?” Kara failed miserably in her attempt to sound nonchalant.

Nia nodded knowingly before turning her attention back to the shoes. “Yeah, when the weather is good, they go backpacking all the time—even the doctor. They’re real outdoorsy. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll see Lena soon.”

Kara flustered, her words coming out jumbled as she tried to deny the reason she asked, but Nia didn’t believe it for a second. She didn’t ask any questions though, which was a relief to Kara.

Winn eventually returned with a small shopping bag in hand and they made plans to go to dinner at a little Italian restaurant on the boardwalk. Winn and Nia were going to take their clothes back to the car and then walk down to the bay—Kara told them she would meet them at the restaurant in an hour; she wanted to look for a bookstore. Both were willing to come with Kara, but Kara simply encouraged them to have fun. Eventually they departed, chattering happily as Kara headed in the direction Winn had pointed out.

Kara had no trouble finding the bookstore, but it wasn’t what she was looking for. The bookstore was far too modern for what she was looking for—it wouldn’t have older books that potentially held myths on vampires.

Kara meandered through the streets, which were filling up with the end-of-work traffic, and hoped she was heading downtown to hopefully find a proper bookstore. Kara wasn’t paying as much attention as she should; she was wrestling with despair. She was trying desperately not to think about Lena, and what Nia had said… and more than anything, Kara was trying to beat down her hopes for Saturday, fearing a disappointment worse than the rest, when she looked up to see someone’s silver Volvo parked along the street and it all came crashing down to her.

Stupid, unreliable potential alien, Kara thought to herself.

She traipsed in a south direction, toward some glass fronted shops that looked promising; when she got to them, they were just a repair shop and a vacant space. Kara still had too much time before looking for Nia and Winn yet, and decided she needed to get her tumultuous emotions in check first. She fiddled with her glasses and took a few deep breaths before deciding to wander mindlessly. She continued around the corner, walking for a while before she realized she was going in the wrong direction. The little foot traffic she had seen was going north, and it looked like the buildings here were mostly warehouses. Kara decided to turn east at the next corner, and then loop around after a few blocks to find her way back to the boardwalk.

A group of four men turned around the corner Kara was heading for, dressed too causally to be heading home from the office, but too grimy to be tourist. As they approached her, she realized they weren’t many years older than she was—well, physically, anyway. They were joking loudly among themselves, laughing raucously and punching each other’s arms. Kara scooted as far to the inside of the sidewalk as she could to give them room, walking swiftly, looking past them to the corner.

“Hey, there!” Kara glanced up automatically, already annoyed. She didn’t feel like beating up four men in broad daylight. Two of them had paused, the other two were slowing. The closest, a heavyset, dark-haired man in his early twenties, seemed to be the one who had spoken.

He was wearing a flannel shirt open over a dirty t-shirt, cutoff jeans, and sandals. He took a half step toward Kara.

She said nothing, just quickly looked away and walked faster—at a human pace—toward the corner. Kara could hear them laughing, the sound bouncing around in her head.

“Hey, wait!” one of them called after her again, but Kara kept her head down and rounded the corner with a sigh of relief. She could still hear them chortling.

Kara found herself on a sidewalk leading past the backs of several somber-colored warehouses, each with large bay doors for unloading trucks, padlocked for the night. The south side of the street had no sidewalk, only a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire protecting some kind of engine parts storage yard. Kara realized she wandered far past the part of Port Angeles that she, a guest, was intended to see. It was getting dark, she realized, the clouds finally returning, piling up on the western horizon, creating an early sunset. The eastern sky was still clear, but graying, shot through with streaks of pink and orange. A single van passed her, and then the road was empty.

The sky suddenly darkened further, and, as she looked over her shoulder to glare at the offending cloud, Kara realized she’d been so unfocused that she hadn’t realized two men walking quietly twenty feet behind her.

They were from the same group she’d passed at the corner, though neither was the dark-haired one who’d spoken to her. Kara turned her head forward at once, lengthening her strides. She listened intently to their quiet footsteps, much too quiet when compared to the boisterous noise they’d been making earlier. She had a feeling they were worse than just thieves, and relieved that if anyone was a target, it was her, the immovable force made of steel. She focused on the right hand turn only a few yards away; she could hear them clearly, remaining the same distance, never getting closer or further. She reached the corner, a quick glance revealing it was a dead end. She kept walking; the street ended at the next corner where a stop sign was positioned.

Kara debated disappearing in a blur of super-speed, but it was too wide in the open, they would no doubt see her suddenly disappear, and there was the threat of cameras around. They sounded further back though, thirty or forty feet if Kara guessed on sound alone.

She kept her pace steady as she approached the end of the street, not showing any panic as the men continued to follow her. Kara noticed two cars going north passed the intersection she was heading for, relieved there would be enough people to shake her followers.

She skipped around the corner, only to skid to a stop.

The street was lined on both side by blank, doorless, windowless walls. She could see in the distance, two intersections down, streetlamps, cars, and more pedestrian, but all too far away. Lounging against the western building, midway down the street, were the other two men from the group, watching Kara with excited smiles as she froze dead on the sidewalk. With disgust, Kara realized then that she wasn’t being followed, she was being herded.

She paused for a moment, trying to calculate the best way to discard of the men.

“There you are!” The booming voice of the stocky dark-haired man shattered the intense quiet. Even in the gathering darkness, Kara could tell he was looking past her.

“Yeah,” came a loud voice from behind. Kara kept walking, knowing she’d be intercepted regardless. “We just took a little detour.”

The thicket man shrugged away from the wall as Kara came to a stop and he walked slowly into the street.

“Stay away from me,” Kara warned, her voice even and strong.

“Don’t be like that, sugar,” he called, and the raucous laugher started again behind her. She planted her feet, remembering all the self-defense lessons Alex had given her, despite not needing them.

Headlights suddenly flew around the corner, the tires screeching as the car nearly hit the stocky one, forcing him to jump back toward the sidewalk. But the silver car unexpectedly fishtailed around, skidding to a stop with the passenger door open just a few feet away from Kara.

“Get in,” a furious voice demanded.

Kara knew the voice immediately, felt a sense of security washing over her even though she was perfectly capable. She jumped into the seat, slamming the door shut behind her.

It was dark in the car, no light had come on with the opening of the door, but Kara’s eyes adjusted quickly to pierce through the darkness, seeing Lena’s furious face clearly. Her face was twisted in a dangerous scowl, her eyebrows creased with unbidden rage that Kara couldn’t quite understand. The tires squealed again as Lena spun around to face north, accelerating too quickly, swerving toward the stunned men on the street. Kara glimpsed them diving for the sidewalk as the car straightened out and sped toward the harbor.

“Put on your seat belt.” Lena demanded, her tone nearing gravely and incomprehensible through the thick Irish accent. Kara obeyed; the snap as the belt connected was loud in the oppressive silence. Lena took a sharp left, racing forward, blowing through several stop signs without pause.

Kara found herself surprisingly unconcerned at the lack of following traffic laws and uncaring of where they were going. Kara stared at Lena’s face, studying the flawless features despite the fact she was murderously angry.

“Are you okay?” Kara asked softly, frightened to break the silence.

“No,” she said curtly, her tone livid.

Kara sat in the silence again, watching Lena’s face while her eyes blazed straight ahead, until the car came to a sudden stop. Kara glanced around, seeing the dark outline of trees crowding the roadside. They weren’t in town anymore.

“Kara?” she asked, voice tight and controlled, Americanized again with the usual hint of Irish.

“Yeah?”

“Are you all right?” Lena still wasn’t looking at her, but the fury was plain on her face. Kara had to remind herself what Lena must have thought was about to happen—remind herself that Lena had no idea how capable Kara was of defending herself.

“Yes.” Kara replied, voice still soft.

“Distract me, please.” Lena ordered.

“I um—what—”

Lena exhaled sharply.

“Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down,” she clarified, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“Uh,” Kara wracked her brain for something trivial. “I’m going to throw Adam Grant into space tomorrow before school?”

Lena’s eyes were still squeezed shut but her mouth twitched.

“Why?”

“He’s telling everyone that he’s taking me to prom—either he’s crazy or he’s still trying to make up for almost killing me last… well, you remember it, and he thinks prom is somehow the correct way to do this. So, I figure if I endanger his life, then we’re even, and he can’t keep trying to make amends. If that doesn’t work, I can’t just get Alex to fly up and threaten him. Worst come to worst I thought about totaling his Sentra, that way he doesn’t have a ride and can't take anyone to prom…” Kara rambled out, fiddling with her glasses as a blush overtook her face.

“I heard about that.” Lena sounded a little more composed.

“You did?” Kara asked in disbelief, watching as Lena sighed and finally opened her eyes.

“Better?”

“Not really.”

Kara waited, but Lena didn’t speak again. She leaned her head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling of the car. Lena’s face was rigid.

“What’s wrong?” Kara was whispering again.

“Sometimes I have a problem with my… temper, Kara.” She was whispering too, and as she stared out the window, her eyes narrowed. “But it wouldn’t be helpful for me to turn around and hunt down those…” Lena didn’t finish the sentence, looking away as her face contorted into controlled indifference to mask the obvious anger. “At least,” she continued, “that’s what I’m trying to convince myself.”

“Oh.” The word felt entirely inadequate, but her mind was jumbled, and she couldn’t offer a better response.

They sat in silence again. Kara glanced at the clock on the dashboard; it was past six-thirty.

“Winn and Nia will be worried. I was supposed to meet them.”

Lena started the engine without another word, turning around smoothly and speeding back toward town. They were under the streetlights in no time at all, still going too fast, weaving with ease through the cars slowly cruising the boardwalk. She parallel-parked against the curb in a space Kara would have thought much too small for the Volvo, but Lena slid into the spot effortlessly in one try. Lena was, without doubt, a much better driver than Kara. Kara looked out the window to see the lights of La Bella Italia, and Winn and Nia just leaving, pacing anxiously away from them.

“How did you know where…?” Kara began, but then she just shook her head. She heard the door open and turned to see Lena sliding out.

“I’m taking you to dinner.” Lena smiled slightly, but her eyes were still hard. The door slammed and Kara fumbled with her seatbelt, and then hurried to get out of the car. Lena was already waiting for her on the sidewalk.

She spoke before Kara could. “Go stop and Nia and Winn before I have to track them down, too. I don’t think I could restrain myself if I ran into your other friends again.”

Kara’s signature crinkle appeared between her brows at the threat in Lena’s voice.

“Nia! Winn!” She called out to them, waving when they turned. They rushed to Kara, the pronounced relief on both their faces simultaneously morphing to surprise as they saw who she was standing next to. They hesitated a few feet from them.

“Where have you been?” Nia asked, distraught before darting forward and hugging Kara.

“I got lost,” she said sheepishly, returning the hug carefully before pulling back. “And then I ran into Lena.” Kara gestured toward her before shooting a warning glare at Winn as an impish grin started to make an appearance.

“Would it be all right if I joined you?” Lena asked in that silken voice.

“Um, actually, Kara, we already ate while we were waiting—I’m sorry.”

“I think you should eat something.” Lena’s voice was a whisper, but full of authority. She looked up at Winn and spoke louder. “Do you mind if I drive Kara home tonight? That way you won’t have to wait while she eats.”

“Of course!” Winn responded immediately, earning him a jab in the ribs from Nia.

“See you tomorrow, Kara. Lena.” Nia smiled, dragging Winn away. Kara waited until they had gotten into Winn’s car, parked on First Street, and driven away before she turned to face Lena again.

“Honestly, I’m not hungry,” Kara insisted, knowing it was a lie but not wanting Lena to foot the bill like Kara knew she would.

“Humor me.”

Lena walked to the door of the restaurant and held it open with an obstinate expression, making it clear there would be no further discussion on the matter. Kara walked past her into the restaurant with a resigned sigh. The restaurant thankfully wasn’t crowded—it was the off season in Port Angeles. The host was male, and Kara understood the look in his eyes as he assessed Lena. He welcomed her a little more warmly than necessary. Kara was surprised by how much that bothered her.

“A table for two?” Lena’s voice was alluring, whether she was aiming for it or not. Kara saw his eyes flicker to Kara and then away, seemingly satisfied by the cautious, no-contact space Lena kept between them. He led them to a table big enough for four in the center of the most crowded area of the dining floor.

Kara was about to sit, but Lena shook her head.

“Perhaps something more private?” She insisted quietly to the host, smoothly handing him a tip. Kara had never seen anyone refuse a table in such a manner except for in old movies.

“Sure.” He sounded more surprised than Kara was. He turned and led them around a partition to a small ring of booths—all of them empty. “How’s this?”

“Perfect.” Lena flashed her gleaming smile, dazing the man momentarily.

“Um”—he shook his head, blinking— “your server will be right out.” He walked away unsteadily.

“You really shouldn’t do that to people,” Kara reprimanded as she sat down. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Do what?”

“Dazzle them like that—he’s probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now.”

Lena seemed confused.

“Oh, come on,” Kara laughed. “You have to know the effect you have on people.”

Lena tilted her head to one side, her eyes curious. “I dazzle people?”

“You haven’t noticed?”

Lena ignored the questions. “Do I dazzle you?”

“Frequently,” Kara admitted, her face burning as the blush reached the tips of her ears.

And then their server arrived, her face expectant. The host had definitely dished behind the scenes, and this new girl didn’t look disappointed. She slipped a strand of short black hair behind one ear and smiled with needless warmth.

“Hello. My name is Amber, and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?” Kara didn’t miss that she was speaking only to Lena.

Lena looked at Kara.

“Sweet tea. No lemon.” It sounded like a question.

“Two teas,” Lena said.

“I’ll be right back with that,” she assured Lena with another unnecessary smile, but Lena didn’t see it. She was watching Kara.

“What?”

Her eyes stayed fixed to Kara’s face. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Kara replied, surprised by Lena’s intensity.

“You don’t feel dizzy, sick, cold…?”

“Should I?”

She snickered at Kara’s puzzled tone.

“Well, I’m actually waiting for you to go into shock.” Her face twisted into that perfect soft smile.

“I don’t think that will happen,” Kara said after she could breathe again, knowing her face was at a constant blush. “I’ve been through enough shock for a lifetime.”

“Just the same. I’ll feel better when you have some sugar and food in you.”

Right on cue, the waitress appeared with their drinks and a basket on breadsticks. She stood with her back to Kara as she placed them on the table.

“Are you ready to order?” She asked Lena.

“Kara?” Lena asked, and the waitress turned unwillingly toward Kara.

Kara picked the first thing she saw on the menu, “Uh… the mushroom ravioli?”

“And you?” She turned back to Lena with a smile.

“Nothing for me,” she said, unsurprising to Kara.

“Let me know if you change your mind.” The coy smile was still in place, but Lena wasn’t looking at her, and she left dissatisfied.

“Drink,” Lena ordered.

Kara gave a glare without any heat before she obediently picked up the glass and drank deeply, not realizing how thirsty she was. When Kara was finished, Lena pushed her glass toward Kara.

“Thanks,” Kara muttered, fiddling with her glasses nervously.

“Are you cold?” Lena’s eye drifted to Kara’s bare arms, the t-shirt hugging comfortably around her biceps.

“No, I’m fine. It wasn’t that cold outside, or in here either.”

“It’s forty outside and the thermostat is set to sixty-five in here.” Oh. Kara hadn’t realized. “Don’t you have a jacket?”

“Yes, but I uh, I left it in Winn’s car.”

Lena was shrugging out of her jacket. Kara suddenly realized that she’d never once noticed that Lena was wearing a jacket—not just tonight, but ever. Kara’s attention seemed to never draw away from her face. Kara made herself look now, focusing. Lena was removing a light beige leather jacket now; underneath she wore a black turtleneck sweater. It fit her snugly, emphasizing hidden muscles that Kara had never seen before without the imposed jacket.

Lena handed Kara the jacket, interrupting her ogling and causing her face to color hotly under the force of her blush.

“Thanks,” Kara said again, sliding her arms into her jacket. It was cold—so cold Kara could noticeably feel it. The jacket was a little tighter on Kara, her frame broader than Lena’s, but the jacket smelled amazing. It was cinnamon and old books mixed together, but much stronger than when Kara stood in proximity to her. Kara could tell it wasn’t perfume though, it was merely the strange natural scent of Lena Luthor.

Lena stared intently, as if appraising Kara, before pushing the breadbasket toward her.

“Seriously, I’m not going into shock.” Kara protested, but still reached for a breadstick—she still had a Kryptonian metabolism after all.

“You should be—a normal person would be. You don’t even look shaken.” Lena seemed unsettled as she stared into Kara’s eyes. They were lighter now—lighter than Kara had ever seen them—golden butterscotch.

“I feel… safe… with you.” Kara confessed, not fully the truth, but not fully a lie either.

However, that seemed to displease Lena, her dark eyebrows furrowed; she shook her head, frowning.

“This is more complicated than I’d planned.” Lena muttered. Kara picked up a third breadstick, measuring Lena’s expression and trying to figure out when it would be opportune to start questioning her.

“Y’know, you’re usually in a better mood when your eyes are so light—or when they’re green.” Kara commented, trying to distract Lena from whatever had her frowning and somber.

Lena stared, slightly stunned. “What?”

“You’re always…” Kara paused, trying to think of the word, and watching as Lena raised that skeptical eyebrow again, “crabbier—when your eyes are black—I expect it then.” Kara went on. “I sort of, well, I kind of have a theory about that. I guess.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed, swaying between green and butterscotch. “More theories?”

“Mm-hm.” Kara fidgeted with her glasses again, focusing on her breadstick.

“I hope you were more creative this time… or are you still stealing from comic books?” Her faint smile was sardonic; her eyes were still tight.

“Well, no, not this time. No comics at all, but I didn’t come up with it on my own, either.” Kara confessed.

“And?” she prompted.

But then the waitress strode around the partition with Kara’s food. Kara realized they’d been unconsciously leaning toward each other across the table, but only because they had straightened up as the waitress approached. She set the dish in front of Kara—it looked good—and turned quickly to Lena.

“Did you change your mind?” she asked. “Isn’t there anything I can get you?” Kara may have been imagining the double meaning in her words, but she wasn’t sure.

“No, thank you, but some more tea would be nice.” She gestured with a slender white hand to the empty cups in front of Kara.

“Sure.” She removed the empty glasses and walked away.

“You were saying?”

“I’ll tell you about it in the car. If…” Kara paused, tilting her head as she examined the brunette.

“There are conditions?” The dark eyebrow quirked up again, her voice ominous.

“I do have a few questions, of course.”

“Of course.”

The waitress was back with two more teas; she sat them down without a word this time and left.

“Well, go ahead.” Lena pushed; her voice cautious.

“Why are you in Port Angeles?”

Lena looked down, folding her hands together slowly on the table. Her eyes flickered up to look at Kara from under her lashes, the hint of a smirk pulling at her lips.

“Next.”

“But that’s the easiest one,” Kara pouted, but Lena just repeated the word.

Kara looked down, frustrated at the lack of headway she was making with the brunette. Kara unrolled her silverware, picked up her fork, and carefully began to eat her ravioli. She forced herself to chew slowly while she thought. Kara didn’t typically like mushrooms—or anything healthy, really—but the dish was still good. She ate a few more bites, sipped on her tea, then looked back up at Lena.

“Okay, I guess. Let’s say, I don’t know, hypothetically, of course, that… someone… could know what people are thinking, read minds, you know—with a few exceptions.”

“Just one exception,” she corrected, “hypothetically.”

“Right, one exception.” Kara was thrilled that she was playing along, but she tried to seem casual. “How… how does that work? What are the limitations? How would… that someone… find someone else at exactly the right time? How would she know she was in trouble?” Kara wondered if her convoluted questions even made sense.

“Hypothetically?” Lena questioned.

“Sure.”

“Well, if… that someone…”

“Let’s call her ‘Abby,’” Kara suggested.

Lena smiled wryly. “Abby, then. If Abby had been paying attention, the timing wouldn’t have needed to be quite so exact.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Only you could get into trouble in a town this small. You would have devastated their crime rate statistics for a decade, you know.”

“We’re speaking of a hypothetical case.” Kara gently reminded, clearing her throat gracelessly.

“Yes, we were,” she agreed. “Shall we call you ‘Jane’?”

“How did you know?” Kara blurted out, unable to curb her curiosity or her intensity as she leaned toward Lena again.

Lena seemed to waver, torn by some internal dilemma. She locked eyes with Kara, and Kara guessed she was making the decision right then on whether or not to simply tell the truth.

“You can trust me, you know.” Kara breathed out, unthinking as she moved to touch Lena’s folded hands, but she slid her hands back minutely, and Kara pulled back as well.

“I don’t know if I have a choice anymore.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I was wrong—you’re much more observant than I gave you credit for.”

“I thought you were always right.” Kara teased.

“I used to be.” Lena shook her head again. “I was wrong about you on one other thing, as well. You’re not a magnet for accidents—that’s not a broad enough classification. You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you.”

“And you put yourself into that category?” Kara guessed; Lena’s face turned cold, expressionless.

“Unequivocally.”

Kara stretched her hand across the table again—ignoring when Lena pulled back slightly once more—to touch the back of Lena’s hand shyly with her fingertips. Lena’s skin was cold and hard, like stone against Kara’s gentle touch.

“Thank you.” Kara’s voice was low with gratitude for the principles of it.

“That’s twice now.” Lena’s face softened. “Let’s not try for three, agreed?” Kara rolled her eyes but nodded anyway.

Lena moved her hands out from under Kara’s, placing both of her hands under the table, but she leaned toward Kara.

“I followed you to Port Angeles,” she admitted, speaking in a rush. “I’ve never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it’s much more troublesome than I would have believed.  But that’s probably just because it’s you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes.” Lena paused, and Kara briefly wondered if she should be bothered by the fact Lena was following her; instead, she found that she’d didn’t find it uncomfortable at all. Lena stared, probably wondering why Kara’s lips were curving into an involuntary smile.

Kara went with her own running joke, the pretense of being human, “Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time—with—with the van, and that you’ve been interfering with fate?”

“That wasn’t the first time,” Lena said, and her voice was so low that the only reason Kara could hear it at all was because she was an alien. Kara tilted her head again, trying to find Lena’s eyes, but she was looking down. “Your number was up the first time I met you.”

Kara suddenly remembered her violent black glare that first day, but the memory seemed to be stifled by the now found safety she felt in Lena’s presence.

“You remember?” she asked, her angelic face now grave.

“Yes.” Kara was calm, probably the most level-headed she’d been in weeks. Something was different and she didn’t know what.

“And yet, here you sit.” There were traces of wonder in her tone, that signature eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Yes, here I sit… because of you.” Kara paused. “Because somehow you knew how to find me today…?” she prompted.

Lena pressed her lips together, staring at Kara through narrowed eyes, deciding again. Her eyes flashed down to the plate, barely touched, and then back to Kara.

“You eat, I’ll talk?” she bargained.

Kara quickly scooped up another ravioli and popped it in her mouth.

“It’s harder than it should be—keeping track of you. Usually, I can find someone very easily, once I’ve read their mind before.” Lena was looking at Kara anxiously, and Kara realized she’d frozen. She made herself swallow and then stabbed another ravioli with her fork.

“I was keeping tabs on Winn, not carefully—like I said, only you could find trouble in Port Angeles—and at first, I didn’t notice when you took off on your own. Then, when I realized that you weren’t with him anymore, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in his head. I could tell that you hadn’t gone in, and that you’d gone south… and I knew you would have to turn around soon. So, I was just waiting for you, randomly searching through the thoughts of people on the street—to see if anyone had noticed you so I would know where you were. I had no reason to be worried… but I was… strangely anxious…” Lena seemed lost in thought, staring right past Kara, seeing things she couldn’t fathom.

“I started to drive in circles, still… listening. The sun was finally setting, and I was about to get out and follow you on foot. And then—” Lena stopped, clenching her teeth together in sudden fury. She made an obvious effort to calm herself.

“Then what?” Kara whispered, but Lena’s gaze continued to stare over her head.

“I heard what they were thinking,” her voice was gravely, her upper lip curling into a scowl. “I saw your face in his mind.” Lena suddenly leaned forward, one elbow appearing on the table, her hand covering her eyes. The movement was so swift, Kara was monetarily startled by the fact someone else could move as fast as herself.

“It was very… hard—you can’t imagine how hard—for me to simply take you away and leave them… alive.” Her voice was muffled by her arm. “I could have let you go with Winn and Nia, but I was afraid if you left me alone, I would go looking for them,” Lena admitted in a whisper. Kara sat there quietly, her thoughts incoherent. Her hands were folded in her lap, and Kara was leaning weakly against the back of the seat. Lena still had her face in her hand, and she was as still as if she’d been carved from the stone her skin resembled.

Finally, Lena looked up, her eyes searching Kara’s, and full of her own questions.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“I’m ready to leave,” Kara acquiesced, her plate now empty, and overly grateful that she had an hour-long car ride home with Lena. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. The waitress appeared as if she’d been called. Or watching.

“How are we doing?” she asked Lena.

“We’re ready for the check, thank you.” Her voice was quiet, raspier, still reflecting the strain of their conversation. It seemed to muddle the waitress. Lena looked up, waiting.

“S-sure.” She fumbled a moment as she grabbed the small leather book from the front pocket of her black apron, “Here you go.” There was a bill in her hand already, and she slipped it into the book and handed it right back to the waitress.

“No change.” Lena smiled, standing up smoothly as Kara clumsily climbed to her feet.

She smiled invitingly at Lena again. “You have a nice evening.” Lena didn’t look away from Kara as she thanked the waitress; Kara fought to suppress a smile. Lena walked close beside Kara to the door, still careful not to touch her. Kara’s mind suddenly jumped to the conversation with Nia, excited about sharing her first kiss with Brainy. Kara sighed and Lena immediately took notice, looking up at Kara curiously. Kara looked down at the sidewalk, grateful that Lena didn’t seem to be able to know what she was thinking.

Lena opened the passenger door, holding it for Kara as she stepped in, and shutting it softly behind her. Kara watched her walk around the front of the car, amazed, yet again, by how graceful she was. Kara should probably be used to that by now—but she wasn’t. Kara had a feeling Lena wasn’t the kind of person anyone got used to.

Once inside the car, Lena started the engine and turned the heater on high. Kara, like usual, didn’t need the heat, nor the jacket Lena had provided, though, breathing in the scent of Lena was something else entirely.

Lena pulled out through traffic, apparently without a glance, before heading toward the freeway.

“Now,” Lena said profoundly, “it’s your turn.”

Chapter Text

“I pass with relief from the tossing sea of Cause and Theory to the firm ground of Result and Fact.”

- Winston Churchill.

“Can I ask just one more?” Kara pleaded as Lena accelerated quickly down the quiet road.

“One.” Lena agreed, her lips forming that thin cautious line again.

“Well… you said you knew I hadn’t gone into the bookstore, and that I had gone south. I was just wondering how you knew that.”

Lena looked away deliberately.

Kara sighed, tossing her head back against the headrest. “I thought we were past all the evasiveness.” She grumbled.

Lena almost smiled.

“Fine, then. I followed your scent.” Lena looked at the road, giving Kara time to compose her face. Kara certainly couldn’t think of an acceptable response to such admission, but she filed the tidbit of information away for later. Kara tried to refocus, not wanting Lena to be ready to finish now that she was finally explaining things.

“And then you didn’t answer one of my first questions…” Kara stalled, toying at the hem of her shirt.

Lena gave a look of disapproval. “Which one?”

“How does it work— the mind reading thing? I mean, can— can you read anybody’s mind, anywhere? How did you do it? Can the rest of your family…?” Kara felt almost silly asking for clarification on “hypotheticals.”

“That’s more than one.” Lena pointed out, but Kara continued to toy with the frayed edge of her shirt as she stared at Lena, waiting.

“No, it’s just me. And I can’t hear anyone, anywhere. I have to be fairly close. The more familiar someone’s… ‘voice’ is, the farther away I can hear them. But still, no more than a few miles.” She paused thoughtfully. “it’s a little like being in a huge hall filled with people; everyone’s taking at once. It’s just a constant buzzing of voices in the background. Until I focus on one voice, and then what they’re thinking becomes clear.

“Most of the time I tune it all out— it can be very distracting. And then it’s easier to seem normal”— Lena frowned as she said the word— “when I’m not accidentally answering a question someone’s thought rather than their words.”

“Why do you think you can’t hear me?” Kara asked curiously, wondering if it had anything to do with being Kryptonian.

Lena looked over at Kara, her eyes enigmatic.

“I don’t know.” She mumbled. “The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn’t work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I’m only getting FM.” Lena grinned, suddenly amused.

“My mind doesn’t work right? I’m a freak?” The words bothered Kara more than they should— but she had spent the last four years having that word thrown at her both to her face and behind her back.

“I hear voices in my head and you’re worried that you’re a freak?” Lena laughed, the sound melodic. “Don’t worry, it’s just a theory…” her face smoothed back over. “Which brings me back to you.”

Kara sighed, wondering how to begin.

“Aren’t we past all the evasions now?” she reminded Kara softly. Kara looked away from her face for the first time, trying to find words. She happened to notice the speedometer.

“Rao! Aren’t you worried you’ll get pulled over or something?”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Lena seemed startled but the car didn’t decelerate.

“You’re going a hundred miles an hour!” Kara shot a panicky glance out the window— panicky for Lena’s safety, not her own— truly noticing how fast they were driving now.

“Relax, Kara.” She rolled her eyes, still not slowing.

“Are you trying to kill us?”

“We’re not going to crash.”

Kara rolled her eyes this time, still sitting comfortably in her seat. “Why are you in such a hurry anyway?”

“I always drive like this.” She turned to look at Kara, smirking.

“Well just—just keep your eyes on the road then.”

“I’ve never been in an accident, Kara— I’ve never even gotten a ticket.” She was still smirking as she tapped her forehead. “Built-in radar detector.”

“Very funny,” Kara huffed, “you remember Eliza is a doctor, right? Well, she’s given me and Alex plenty of horror stories about the people she’s seen come in after a wreck from reckless speeding.” Then Kara finally got over her panic, remembering the way Lena had tanked the van. “But I guess if you turn us into a Volvo pretzel—I wish I had a pretzel right now— you would probably walk away just fine.”

“Probably.” Lena agreed with a brief laugh. “But you can’t.” Lena sighed, and Kara watched as the needle dropped to eighty.

If only Lena knew.

“Happy?”

“Nearly. Sure there’s no cops lurking?”

Lena huffed, “I hate driving slow.”

“This is slow?” Kara questioned Lena despite understanding the sentiment well. The world was far too slow, her mind and body the opposite—sometimes it felt like the world was standing stilt.

“Enough commentary on my driving.” She grumbled, tone verging on annoyed. “I’m still waiting for your latest theory.”

Kara bit her lip, adjusting her glasses as Lena tried to catch her eyes, green eyes surprisingly gently.

“I won’t laugh.” She promised.

“I’m more afraid you’ll be angry with me.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Lena waited; Kara was looking down at her hands to avoid Lena’s expression.

“Go ahead.” Her voice was calm.

“I don’t know how to start,” Kara admitted. Not only would she be testing her theory, but she’d also be stating that aliens existed, and the off chance that Lena wasn’t an alien, well, that made that a more terrifying prospect.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning… you said you didn’t come up with this on your own?”

“No,”

“What got you started—a book? A movie?” she probed.

“No— it— it was Saturday, at the uh, beach.” Kara risked a glance up; Lena looked puzzled.

“I ran into Maggie— she lives on the Rez now with her aunt.” Kara paused momentarily. “Her aunt has been teaching her about the legends of the tribe.”

She still looked confused.

“Her mom used to be a tribal leader, so her aunt is passing down everything now, I guess. Her great-great grandfather also used to be a tribal leader.” Lena’s confused expression froze in place. “We went for a walk, and she told me some old legends— trying to scare me, I think. She told me one…” Kara hesitated, watching Lena’s face intently.

“Go on,” Lena replied, her brow quirking up.

“About vampires.” Kara whispered, afraid of the anger soon to come. Lena’s knuckles tightened dangerously on the wheel.

“And you immediately thought of me?” Her voice was still calm despite the rigid set of her shoulders.

“No. She… mentioned your family.”

Lena was as silent as ever, her eyes glued to the road for the first time since their conversation began.

Kara was suddenly worried about protecting Maggie. “She thought it was a silly superstition.” Kara rushed out quickly, “She—she didn’t expect me to think anything of it.” Kara fiddled again with her glasses, nervousness bubbling over. “It’s my fault, I made her tell me.”

“Why?”

“Imra. Imra said something about you— she, well, she said— basically she was trying to provoke me. I think. And an older boy from the tribe said your family didn’t come to the reservation, but really it sounded like he meant something different. So, I got Maggie alone and convinced her to tell me.” Kara confessed, hanging her head with shame.

Lena snickered, eyes remaining on the road. “What did you do then?”

“I did some research online.”

“And did that convince you?” Lena’s voice had an air of disinterest, but her hands were still gripped tightly around the steering wheel, the leather groaning with the effort of it.

“No. Nothing fit. Most of it was super silly to be honest. And then…” Kara stopped, not sure if she should admit this fact.

“What?”

It came out as a soft whisper, softer than she had intended, “I decided it didn’t matter.”

“It didn’t matter?” Kara finally looked up as Lena’s tone shattered the stillness around them— Kara had finally broken through Lena’s carefully constructed and composed mask. Her face was incredulous, with a hint of anger that Kara had feared would make an appearance. Her eyes were a blazing gold.

“No.” Kara responded softly, earnestly. “It doesn’t matter to me what you are.”

A hard, mocking edge entered her voice. “You don’t care if I’m a monster? If I’m not human?”

“No.”

Lena was silent, staring straight ahead again. Her face was bleak and cold, her sharp jawline clenched dangerously as if she was a rapid animal trapped in a corner.

“You’re angry,” Kara sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. But I hardly believe being an alien qualifies as being a monster.”

Kara watched as the speedometer suddenly dropped drastically, a strange look on Lena’s face before the car lurched forward again, easing off at the eighty mile per hour mark.

“Kara… you think I’m— I’m an alien?” This time Lena was truly puzzled.

“Well, I uh, it makes sense, right? I mean, I’m an alien.”

“You’re— aliens are real?” Genuine surprise flashed across Lena’s face this time, her eyes flickering back to green as the anger—no, self-loathing—dissipated.

“Yeah… wait... if you’re not an alien— vampires are real?” Kara gasped, her eyebrow inching toward her hairline in shock.

Lena was stoic again, a muscle twitching in her jaw.

“Oh Rao, I’m right?” Kara couldn’t figure out if she was shocked because Lena wasn’t an alien, or if it was because Lena hadn’t said anything further about Kara being an alien.

“Does it matter?”

Kara took a deep breath.

“Not really,” she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before she continued, “But I am curious.”

Lena seemed resigned now, but something odd flitted in her eyes and Kara couldn’t tell if it was because Kara discovered her secret, or because Lena knew Kara was an alien now. “What are you curious about?”

Kara tried to wrangle every myth she’d read about vampires during her research since the alien theory was now in dead water.  “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” Came the automatic response.

“And how long have you—how long have you been seventeen?” Lena’s lips twitched as she stared at the road.

“A while.” she admitted.

“Okay.” Kara couldn’t stop the goofy smile from taking over her face, elated that the cold and aloof Lena Luthor was still being honest. Lena looked back at Kara; her stare watchful like they had been before—when she thought Kara was going into shock. Kara only smiled wider, leading to the deepening frown appearing on Lena’s face.

“Don’t laugh— but how can you come out in the daylight?”

Lena laughed anyway. “Myth.”

“Burned by the sun?”

“Myth.”

“Sleeping in coffins?”

“Myth.” Lena hesitated for a moment, her tone becoming peculiar. “I can’t sleep.”

Kara took a moment to absorb that information. “Like, at all?”

“Never,” she said, voice incredibly low in volume.

Lena turned her head, watching Kara more fully. Green and blue clashed together, holding onto one another until eventually those green eyes flitted away, intent on the road again.

Lena voice became hard once again. “You haven’t asked me the most important question yet.”

Kara blinked, dazed for a moment. “Which is that?”

“You aren’t concerned about my diet?” her tone was leeched in sarcasm.

“Oh. Oh.” She softly exclaimed, “that.”

“Yes, that.” Her voice was bleak. “Don’t you want to know if I drink blood?”

Kara’s brows furrowed in thought. “Well, Maggie kind of said something about that.”

“What did Maggie say?” Her tone was entirely flat, holding no emotion once so ever. It was disconcerting, the way Lena’s mood changed on a whim.

“She said you didn’t… that you didn’t hunt… people. She said your family wasn’t supposed to be dangerous because you only hunted animals.”

“She said we weren’t dangerous?” flatness turned into deep skepticism.

“Well, I mean, no, not exactly. Maggie said you weren’t supposed to be dangerous. But the Quileutes still didn’t want you on their land, just in case.”

Lena looked forward but this time Kara couldn’t tell if she was watching the road or not.

“So, was she right? About the not hunting people thing?”

“The Quileutes have a long memory,” she whispered in response. Kara took it as confirmation.

“Don’t let that make you complacent though,” Lena continued, “They’re right to keep their distance from us. We are still dangerous.”

“I don’t understand,” another admission from Kara.

“We try,” she explained slowly. “We’re usually very good at what we do. Sometimes we make mistakes. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you.”

“That is a mistake?” Kara felt hurt and disappointment sear at the edges of her heart; she could hear the sadness in her own voice.

“A very dangerous one,” Lena muttered.

They were both silent then and Kara watched the headlights twist with the curves of the road. It almost didn’t look real to Kara, like time was moving too fast— like a video game. She was too aware of time slipping through her fingers in that moment, and she was hideously afraid that she would never have the chance to be with Lena like this again— openly, the walls between them gone for once. Lena’s words hinted at an end, and Kara recoiled from the idea. She couldn’t waste a minute with Lena. For the first time in her life, the world wasn’t slow.

“Tell me more,” Kara asked, feeling almost desperate to hear Lena’s voice again.

Lena looked at Kara quickly, startled by her change of tone. “What more do you want to know?”

“Tell me why you hunt animals instead of people,” Kara suggested, her voice still tinged with desperation. She realized her eyes were damp, and she fought against the grief that didn’t make sense trying to overpower her.

“I don’t want to be a monster.” Her voice was very low again, something Kara was beginning to expect.

“But animals aren’t enough?”

Lena paused. “I can’t be sure, of course, but I’d compare it to living on tofu and soy milk— we call ourselves vegetarians as an inside joke. It doesn’t really satiate the hunger— or rather thirst— but it keeps us strong enough to resist. Most of the time.” Her tone slid into ominousness. “Sometimes it’s more difficult than others.”

“Is it very difficult for you now?”

Lena sighed, “Yes.”

“But you’re not hungry now.” Kara said it confidently— stating, not asking.

“Why do you think that?”

“Your eyes. I told you I had a theory. Sometimes they flicker between green and gold, but when your crabby— I’ve noticed when people get crabby it’s usually cause they’re hungry— your eyes are black.”

Lena laughed softly, “You are observant, aren’t you?”

Kara didn’t answer; she was listening to the sound of Lena’s laugh, committing it to memory.

“Were you hunting this weekend— with Jack?” Kara finally asked when the laughter had died off.

“Yes.” She paused for a second, as if deciding whether or not to say something. “I didn’t want to leave, but it was necessary. It’s a bit easier to be around you when I’m not thirsty.”

“Why didn’t you want to leave.”

“It makes me… anxious… to be away from you.” Lena eyes were gentle and intense, as if it costed her a great deal to admit it out loud. “I wasn’t joking when I asked you to try and not fall in the ocean or get run over last Thursday. I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you. And after what happened tonight, I’m surprised that you did make it through a whole weekend unscathed.” Lena shook her head, but Kara was already opening her mouth.

“Well, you see, the thing is— remember when I said I’m an alien?” Lena nodded skeptically. “Well, on this planet, I’m kind of invulnerable. Nothing here can hurt me.”

“What?” Lena was the most confused Kara had ever heard her.

“Yeah. The van could never have crushed me, I can’t drown or get ran over— and I could have literally thrown those creeps into space if I wanted to.”

“You’re being serious?” Lena still seemed to not believe it, despite the fact that Kara was certain Lena could hear the level beat of her own heart.

“If you’re a vampire, why is it so hard to believe I’m an alien?”

“You just… look so human.” Lena admitted, still confused as ever.

“A lot of aliens do, and even more don’t. I’ve been to over a dozen planets when I was younger. Thankfully Kryptonians resemble humans or else I don’t think I could have fit it at all. And I’m sorry for not saying anything about it when you were all worried but well, I was trying to protect my family… and myself, I guess. I really don’t want to spend forever in a lab.”

Lena scoffed but it wasn’t full of malice this time. “To think I spent three days worried out of my mind over nothing.” Kara blushed before she truly processed the words.

“Three days? Didn’t you just get back today?”

“‘No, we got back Sunday.”

“Then how come none of you were in school?” Kara wasn’t angry, but she was feeling disappointment again.

“Well, you asked if the sun hurt me, and it doesn’t. But I can’t go out in the sunlight— at least, not where anyone can see me.”

“Why?”

“I’ll show you sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you call me if—if you were back in town?”

Lena was puzzled. “But I knew you were safe.”

“But I didn’t know where you were. I—” Kara hesitated, dropping her gaze.

“What?” Lena’s voice was compelling.

“I didn’t like it. Not seeing you. It uh, it makes me anxious... too.”

Lena was quiet, and as Kara glanced up, she saw that Lena’s expression was pained.

“Ah,” Lena groaned quietly. “This is wrong.” Kara couldn’t understand the response.

“What did I say?”

“Don’t you see, Kara? It’s one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved.” Lena turned her anguished eyes to the road, her words flowing quickly between them. “I don’t want to hear that you feel that way.” Her voice was low but urgent. “It’s wrong. It’s not safe. I’m dangerous, Kara—please, grasp that.”

“No.” Kara ground out defiantly.

“I’m serious,” she growled.

“So am I. I told you; it doesn’t matter what you are, it’s too late anyway. Also, you can’t hurt me even if you tried.”

Lena’s voice whipped out, low and harsh. “You don’t know that.” Kara rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in the silence and watching as the speedometer exceeded a hundred miles.

“What are you thinking?” Lena asked, her voice still raw. Kara shook her head, not sure if she could speak without being a stuttering mess. “Are you crying?” She sounded appalled, but Kara was only now noticing the moisture that now brimmed in her eyes. Kara swatted against her face, removing the threat of traitorous tears.

“No.” her voice was weak sounding.

Kara saw Lena reach toward her hesitantly with her right hand, but then stopped and placed it slowly back on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry.” Lena’s voice burned with regret. Kara knew she wasn’t just apologizing for the words that had upset her.

The darkness slipped by them in silence.

“Tell me something,” Lena inquired after another minute, and Kara could hear Lena’s struggle to use a lighter tone.

“Yes?”

“What were you thinking tonight, just before I came around the corner? I couldn’t understand your expression—you didn’t look scared, you looked like you were concentrating very hard on something.”

“I was trying to think of the best way to get rid of them without revealing my powers—or accidentally shattering every bone in their bodies.

“You could do that?” Lena still didn’t seem to believe Kara.

“Pretty easily, yeah.” Kara fiddled with her fingers for a moment. “I have to consciously try not to break everything I touch at every given moment.”

“I understand the feeling.” Lena sighed deeply, and Kara knew it was a confession to how strong Lena truly was. “Define invulnerable?”

“If you’re wondering if you could shatter my skeleton or break my skin, the answer is no. I don’t know anything about… about vampires, but I wouldn’t imagine it would be possible considering my physiology.” Lena hummed in acknowledgement, and all too soon they were passing the boundaries of Forks.

After another beat of silence, “Will I see you tomorrow?"

“Yes—I have a paper due, too.” Lena smiled. “I’ll save you a seat at lunch.”

It was silly, after all that had happened tonight, how that little promise sent flutters through Kara’s stomach, making her unable to speak. They were in front of Eliza’s house now; the lights were on, Kara’s truck perfectly in its place. Everything was utterly normal. It was like waking from a dream. Lena stopped the car, but Kara didn’t move.

“Do you promise to be there tomorrow?"

“I promise.”

Kara considered that for a moment, then nodded. She pulled off Lena’s jacket, taking one last discreet whiff.

“You can keep it—you don’t have a jacket for tomorrow.” Lena reminded, but Kara still handed the jacket back.

“I don’t get cold or hot. It’s an alien thing.”

“Oh, right,” her smile was wry.

Kara hesitated, her hand on the door handle, trying to prolong the moment.

“Kara?” she asked in a different tone—serious but hesitant.

“Yes?” Kara turned back to Lena, hoping her eagerness wasn’t too apparent.

“Will you promise me something?”

“Yes.” Kara responded, and instantly regretted her unconditional agreement. What if Lena asked her to stay away from her? Kara couldn’t keep that promise.

“Don’t go into the woods alone.”

Kara stared at her in blank confusion. “Why?”

Lena frowned; eyes narrowed as she stared past Kara out the window. “I know you’re—you know—but I do not imagine you want the world to know and I’m not always the most dangerous thing out there. Leave it at that?”

Kara was relieved this was a promise she could keep. “Of course, whatever you say.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lena sighed and Kara opened the door unwillingly.

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Kara?” She turned and Lena was leaning toward her, her pale, glorious face just inches from Kara’s. She swore her heart stopped beating for a brief, strange moment.

“Sleep well,” Lena said, her breath blowing into Kara’s face and stunning her. It was the same exquisite scent that clung to her jacket, only more concentrated. Kara blinked, thoroughly dazed. Lena leaned away, a smirk forming as Kara remained stuck until her brain managed to somewhat unscramble itself. She then stepped out of the car awkwardly, accidentally leaving small dents in the frame of the car that she hoped Lena wouldn’t notice later. That seemed to be a moot hope—she could hear Lena’s soft laughter as clear as day as she shut the door behind her.

Lena waited until Kara had made her way to the front door; she heard the quiet rev of the engine as the silver car disappeared around the corner.

Kara reached for the key mechanically, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. Eliza called from the living room. “Kara?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” She walked in to see Eliza watching some nature documentary.

“You’re home early.”

“Am I?” Kara was surprised; she had no idea what time it was.

“It’s not even eight yet,” Eliza looked a little worried. “Did you guys have fun?”

“Yeah—it was lots of fun.” Kara felt like she was in a fog, trying to remember their outing that had been planned. “They both found outfits.”

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. I’m just a little burnt out. I’ve gotten use to the quietness of Forks’, and it was louder in Port Angeles than I had expected.”

Eliza’s expression was empathetic. “Maybe lying down would help.”

Kara bobbed her head, “I’m just going to call Winn first.”

“Weren’t you just with him?” Eliza asked, surprised.

“Yes—but I left my jacket in his car. I want to make sure he brings it tomorrow.”

“Well, give him a chance to get home first. I’d hate to be called into work because of a teenager on their phone while driving.” It was a lighthearted joke, but Kara still heeded the seriousness of it.

Kara went into the kitchen and ungracefully fell into a nearby chair which protested at the action, the creaking filling the silence of the kitchen for a brief moment. She wondered how any of this was remotely possible.

Her phone rang suddenly, buzzing incessantly in her pocket. She fumbled for a second, digging the device out of her pocket and trying not to crush it.

“Hello?” she asked breathlessly.

“Kara?”

“Hey, Winn, I was just about to call you!”

“You made it home?” Kara could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, but I left my jacket in your car—could you bring it to me tomorrow?”

“Sure, but you’ve gotta tell me what happened!”

“Uh, tomorrow—in Trig, okay?”

“Ugh—” and then he seemed to catch on, “Oh, is Eliza there?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow then. You have to spill everything—and I mean everything. Bye!”

“Bye, Winn.” Kara laughed softly before heading up the stairs. There seemed to be a heavy stupor clouding her mind. She went through the motions of getting ready for bed without paying any attention to what she was doing. She stood under the abrasive spray of scalding water, unaffected by the heat and too tired to move.

She eventually stumbled out, wrapping herself securely in a towel. She dressed swiftly for bed in a whirl of super speed before climbing under her quilt, curling into a ball. Her mind was still swirling, full of images that were slowly beginning to make sense. Nothing seemed entirely clear at first, but as she fell gradually closer to unconsciousness, a few certainties became evident. About three things Kara was absolutely positive.

First, Lena was a vampire. Second, there was a part of Lena—and Kara didn’t know how potent that part might be—that thirsted for her blood. And third, Kara was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her. 

Chapter Text

“I am not what you see. I am what time and effort and interaction slowly unveil.”

― Richelle E. Goodrich

It was very hard, in the morning, to argue with the part of herself that was sure last night was a dream. Logic wasn’t on her side, or common sense. Kara clung to the parts she couldn’t have imagined—like Lena’s smell. She was sure she could never have dreamed that up on her own.

It was foggy and dark outside her window, absolutely perfect. Lena had no reason not to be in school today. Kara dressed in heavier clothes, remembering to keep up the pretense of needing them. She was reminded that her jacket was left in Winn’s car as she went through the motions; it was further proof that her memory was real. When she got downstairs, Eliza was gone again—and Kara was running later than she’d realized. She swallowed a granola bar in three bites, chased it down with milk straight from the carton, and the hurried out the door with another granola bar between her teeth. It was unusually foggy; the air was almost smokey. The mist of the cold morning clung to the exposed skin against her face and neck. It was so foggy, and with her lead-lined glasses keeping her eyesight at an almost “human level”, she didn’t realize there was another car in the driveway until she was already a few feet down. A silver car. Kara’s heart thudded, stuttered, and then picked up again in double time.

She didn’t see where Lena came from, but suddenly she was there, pulling the door open for Kara. Kara pulled the granola bar from her teeth, shoving it into her pocket quickly.

“Do you want to ride with me today?” she asked, amused by Kara’s expression as she caught her by surprise yet again. There was uncertainty in Lena’s voice. She was really giving Kara a choice—she was free to refuse, and part of Lena hoped for that. It was a vain hope.

“Yes, thank you.” Kara breathed out. She stepped into the warm car, noticing Lena’s tan jacket was slung over the headrest of the passenger seat. The door closed behind her, and in an instant, Lena was sitting next to her, starting the car.

“I brought the jacket for you. I now know you won’t get sick or something, but no one else knows that.” Lena’s voice was guarded but a smirk was growing. Kara noticed she wore no jacket herself, just a light knit gray sweater that clung to her body perfectly, accentuating her chest. Kara worked hard to keep her eyes on Lena’s face, and away from her body. 

“I appreciate the thought.” Kara said, pulling the jacket from the headrest and pushing her arms through the too-short sleeves, curious to see if the scent could possibly be as good as she remembered. It was better.

“You’re welcome.” Was the low response from Lena that Kara now expected.

They drove through the fog-shrouded streets, too fast to be safe, and feeling awkward. Kara was, at least. Last night all the walls seemed to be down… almost all. Kara didn’t know if they were still being candid today, and it left Kara tongue-tied. She waited for Lena to speak.

Lena turned to smirk at her. “What, no twenty questions today?”

“Do my questions bother you?” Kara asked, for once relieved for the silence to be broken.

“Not as much as your reactions do.” She looked like she was joking, but Kara couldn’t be sure.

Kara frowned. “Do I react badly?”

“No, that’s the problem. You take everything so coolly—it’s unnatural. It makes me wonder what you’re really thinking.”

“I always tell you what I’m really thinking.”

“You edit.” She accused.

“Not very much. It’s only fair, just because I’m an alien doesn’t mean I can read your mind either.”

Lena scoffed. “Still enough to drive me insane.”

“You don’t want to hear it anyway.” Kara mumbled, almost whispered. As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. The pain in her voice was faint; she could only hope Lena hadn’t noticed it.

Lena didn’t respond, and Kara wondered if she had ruined the mood. Her face was unreadable as they drove into the school parking lot. Something occurred to Kara belatedly.

“Where’s the rest of your family?” Kara asked—more than glad to be alone with her but remembering Lena’s car was usually full.

“They took Andrea’s car.” Lena shrugged as she parked next to a glossy red convertible with the top up. “Ostentatious, isn’t it?”

“Wow,” Kara breathed. “If she has that, why does she ride with you?”

“Like I said, it’s ostentatious. We try to blend it.”

“You don’t succeed.” Kara laughed, shaking her head as she got out of the car. She wasn’t late anymore; Lena’s erratic driving had gotten them to school in plenty of time. “So why did Andrea drive today if it’s more conspicuous?”

“Hadn’t you noticed? I’m breaking all the rules now.” Lena met her at the front of the car, staying very close to Kara’s side as they walked onto campus. Kara wanted to close that little distance, to reach out and touch Lena, but she was afraid that Lena wouldn’t like for her to.

“Why do you have cars like that at all?” she wondered aloud. “If you’re looking for privacy?”

“An indulgence,” Lena admitted with an impish smile. “We all like to drive fast.”

“Figures,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Under the shelter of the cafeteria roof’s overhang, Winn was waiting, his eyes about to bug out of their sockets. Over his arm, bless him, was her jacket.

“Hey, Winn,” Kara greeted when they were a few feet away. “Thanks for remembering.” He handed the jacket over without speaking, a grin starting to form.

“Good morning, Winn.” Lena said politely, her voice aiming for irresistible, but Winn seemed nonplused by it.

“Hi.” He shifted his wide eyes to Kara, the smile growing in tandem. He was clearly excited. “I’ll see you in Trig?” He gave a meaningful look and Kara had to stifle a laugh. What on earth was she going to tell him?

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Winn walked away, pausing twice to peek back over his shoulder at them.

“What are you going to tell him?” Lena whispered.

“Hey, I thought you couldn’t read my mind!” Kara bantered, swatting her hand at Lena’s side with more force than intended. Lena just raised an appraising eyebrow, but she didn’t waver in her spot.

“You are strong.” Kara glared and Lena rolled her eyes. “I can’t. However, I can read his—he’ll be waiting to ambush you in class.” Kara groaned as she pulled off Lena’s jacket and handed it back to Lena, replacing it with her own jacket.

“So, what are you going to tell him?”

“A little help?” Kara pleaded. “What does he want to know?” Lena shook her head, grinning wickedly. “That’s no fair.”

“No, you not sharing what you know—now that’s not fair.” Lena deliberated for a moment as they walked. They stopped outside the door to Kara’s first class.

“He wants to know if we’re secretly dating, what your feelings are for me, and if you’ve kissed me yet—or if I kissed you. He also has suspicions about… what I am.” Lena finally admitted.

“Yikes,” Kara replied, trying to quell the blush. “What should I say?” Kara tried to keep her expression innocent. People were passing them on their way to class, probably staring, but Kara was barely aware of them, every sense in her body honed in on Lena Luthor.

“Hmmm.” Lena paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping the bun of Kara’s hair and wound it back into place. Kara’s heart spluttered hyperactively. “I suppose you could say yes to the first… if you don’t mind—it’s easier than any other explanation.”

“I don’t mind,” Kara said faintly.

“And as far for his other questions… well, I’ll be listening to hear the answers to those ones myself.” One side of her mouth pulled up into Kara’s favorite uneven smile. Kara couldn’t catch her breath soon enough to respond to the remark. Lena turned and walked away.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” she called over her shoulder. Three people walking through the door stopped to stare at Kara.

She hurried into class, flushed. Lena was such a cheater. Kara was even more worried about what she was going to say to Winn. Kara sat in her usual seat, plopping her bag down unceremoniously. She glanced at Winn, all the way across the classroom and momentarily glad they didn’t sit next to each other in English.

“Morning, Kara.” Mike said from the seat next to Kara. She looked up to see an odd, almost resigned look on his face. “How was Port Angeles?”

“It was…” There was no honest way to sum it up. “Great,” she finished lamely. “Nia got a really cute dress and Winn got a strapping suit.”

Mr. J’onzz called the class to order then, saving Kara from further conversation with Mike as he asked for everyone to turn in their papers. English and then Government passed in a blur, while Kara worried about how to explain things to Winn and agonized over whether Lena would really be listening to what she said through the medium of Winn’s thoughts. Kara reckoned it was similar to her super-hearing, but she didn’t use it to purposely eaves drop. Most of the time, anyway.

The fog had almost dissolved by the end of the second hour, but the day was still dark with low, oppressive clouds. Kara smiled up at the dark sky for the first time ever. Lena was right, of course. When Kara walked into Trig, Winn was sitting in the back row, nearly bouncing off his seat in excitement. Kara braved herself as she went to sit next to him, trying to convince herself it would be better to get the grilling questions over with as soon as possible.

“Tell me everything!” he commanded before Kara was even in her seat.

“What do you want to know?” Kara asked nervously.

“What happened last night?” He was tapping his fingers against the desk, as if his excitement was too big to keep restrained in his body.

“She bought me dinner, and then she drove me home.” He playfully glared; his expression was lined with skepticism. “How did you get home so fast?”

“She drives like a maniac. Terrifying.” Kara hoped Lena heard that.

“Was it like a date—did you tell her to meet you there? Did you tell her you have feelings for her?”

Kara shook her head, the blush rearing its head again. She might turn into a tomato soon. “No—I was very surprised to see her there.” Winn wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“But she picked you up for school today?”

“Yes—that was a surprise, too. She noticed I didn’t have a jacket last night.”

“So are you going out again?” His smile was huge and dopey.

“She offered to drive me to Seattle Saturday because she thinks my truck isn’t up to it—does that count?” Kara asked nervously.

“Yes!” he nodded jubilantly, his foot tapping along excitedly.

“Well, uh, yes then?”

“W-o-w.” He exaggerated the word into three syllables. “Lena Luthor. I knew she liked you.” Kara shushed Winn.

“I know,” she agreed. “Wow” didn’t even cover it.

“Wait!” His hands flew up, palms toward Kara like he was stopping traffic. “Has she kissed you—did you kiss her?”

“No,” Kara mumbled, feeling the flush in her ears. “I’m not sure it’s like that.” Winn looked disbelieving, but Kara felt disappointed.

“Do you think Saturday…?” He raised his eyebrow, resting his head against his hand as he moved his elbow onto the table.

“I really doubt it.” The discontent in her voice was poorly disguised.

Winn waved it away. “What did you talk about?” Nia asked as she took the seat next to Winn just before class began, her smile mirroring Winn’s. Thankfully, Mr. Gand wasn’t paying close attention, and they weren’t the only ones still talking.

“I don’t know, Nia, like, lots of stuff?” she whispered back. “We talked about the English essay a little.” Very, very little. Kara remembered Lena mentioning it in passing.

“Please, Kara,” Winn begged.

“Give us some details,” Was the pleading follow up by Nia.

“Okay… I’ve got one. You should have seen the waitress flirting with her—it was over the top. But she didn’t pay any attention to the waitress at all.”

“That’s a good sign,” they both nodded. “Was she pretty?”

“Very—I think she was maybe, I don’t know, nineteen or twenty?”

“Even better! Lena must like you.” Winn pumped his fist in the air with excitement.

“I think so, but it’s hard to tell. She’s always so cryptic,” Kara threw that in for Lena’s benefit, sighing.

“I don’t know how you’re brave enough to be alone with her,” Nia breathed.

“Why?” Kara was shocked but Nia didn’t seem to understand that reaction.

“She’s so… intimidating. I wouldn’t know what to say to her. I’d probably just turn into a bumbling mess. It’s like she’s all business and no play.”

“I do have some trouble with incoherency when I’m around her,” Kara admitted, adjusting her glasses as her friends jeered quietly. “And not really all business? More like… I don’t even know, very dry sarcasm? She’s actually pretty sweet.” Most the time anyway.

“Oh well. She is unbelievably gorgeous.” Winn shrugged as if that excused any flaws. It might.

“There’s a lot more to her than that.”

“Really? Like what? You have to spill!”

Kara wished she had let it go. Almost as much as she was hoping Lena would be kidding about listening in.

“I can’t explain it right… but she’s even more unbelievable behind the face.” The vampire who wanted to be good—who ran around saving people’s lives so she wouldn’t be a monster… Kara stared toward the front of the room.

“I believe it,” Nia giggled.

Kara tried very hard to look like she was paying attention to Mr. Gand.

“So you like her, then?” Winn asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

“Yes,”

“I mean, do you really like her?” Kara didn’t have to look at Winn to know he was making a suggestive face.

“Yes,” Kara said again, blushing furiously. She hoped that detail wouldn’t register in his thoughts.

Winn wasn’t giving up even with Kara’s one syllable answers. “How much do you like her?”

“Too much,” Kara breathed out. “More than she likes me. But I don’t see how I can help that.” Kara sighed, one blush blending into the next. Then, thankfully, Mr. Gand called on Winn for an answer. Neither Winn nor Nia got the chance to start on the subject again during class, and as soon as the bell rang, she bolted to Spanish and took her seat next to James.

Nia seemed to catch the hint that Kara was overwhelmed with conversations on Lena, and they spent the rest of Spanish dissecting sentence structures.

Eventually the bell rang for lunch and Kara shoved her books roughly in her bag. Her uplifted expression must have tipped James off—Nia had already vacated the room.

“You’re not sitting with us today, are you?” he guessed.

“I don’t think so.” Kara couldn’t be sure that Lena wouldn’t disappear inconveniently again.

But outside the door of their Spanish class, leaning against the wall—looking more like a Greek god than anyone had a right to—Lena was waiting for Kara.

“See you later, Kara.” His voice was thick with implications as he left the room. Kara might have to turn off the ringer on her phone.

“Hello.” Her voice was amused and irritated at the same time. She had been listening, it was obvious.

“Hi.”

Kara couldn’t think of anything else to say, and Lena didn’t speak—biding her time, Kara presumed—so it was a quiet walk to the cafeteria. Walking with Lena through the crowded lunchtime rush was a lot like her first day; everyone stared.

Lena led the way into the line, still not speaking, though her eyes returned to Kara’s face every few seconds, the expression speculative. It seemed to Kara that irritation was winning out over amusement as the dominant emotion on her face. Kara fidgeted nervously with the zipper on her jacket.

She stepped up to the counter and filled a tray with food.

“What are you doing?” Kara objected. “You’re not getting all that for me?” Kara could have easily eaten it all and tenfold, but Kara had a feeling Lena would pay for their lunch.

She was correct as she watched Lena step forward to pay. “Half is for me, of course.”

Kara’s eyebrows raised.

Lena led the way to the same place they’d sat that one time before. From the other end of the long table, a group of seniors gazed at them in amusement as they sat across from each other. Lena seemed oblivious.

“Take whatever you want,” she said, pushing the tray toward Kara.

“I’m curious,” Kara said as she picked up an apple, turning it around in her hands, “what would you do if someone dared you to eat food?”

“You’re always curious.” Lena grimaced, shaking her head. She glared at Kara, holding her eyes as Lena lifted the slice of pizza off the tray, and deliberately bit off a mouthful, chewed quickly, and then swallowed. Kara watched, eyes wide.

“If someone dared you to eat dirt, you could, couldn’t you?” Lena asked condescendingly.

Kara wrinkled her nose. “I did once… Alex dared me to.” she admitted. “It wasn’t… so bad.”

Lena laughed. “I suppose I’m not surprised.” Something over her shoulder seemed to catch Lena’s attention.

“Winn’s analyzing everything I do—he’ll break it down for you later.” She pushed the rest of the pizza toward Kara. The mention of Winn brought Lena’s former irritation back to her features. Kara put down the apple and took a bite of the pizza, looking away, knowing that Lena was about to start.

“So the waitress was pretty, was she?” she asked casually.

“You really didn’t notice?”

“No. I wasn’t paying attention. I had a lot on my mind.”

“Poor girl.”

“Something you said to your friends… well, it bothers me.” Lena refused to be distracted. Her voice was husky, and she glanced at Kara up from under her lashes with troubled eyes.

“I’m not surprised you heard something you didn’t like. You know what they say about eavesdroppers,” Kara teased, taking another bite of food.

Lena rolled her eyes. “I warned you I would be listening.”

“And I warned you that you didn’t want to know everything I was thinking.”

“You did,” she agreed, but her voice was still rough. “You aren’t precisely right, though. I do want to know what you’re thinking—everything. I just wish… that you wouldn’t be thinking some things.” Kara frowned.

“That’s quite a distinction.”

“But that’s not really the point at the moment.”

“Then what is?” Kara asked as they inclined toward each other across the table. Her slender white hands folded under her chin; Kara leaned forward, her right hand cupped around her neck. She had to remind herself that they were in a crowded lunchroom, with probably more curious eyes on them. It was too easy to get wrapped up in their own private, tense little bubble. Her senses seem to drown out and focus entirely on Lena when they were together. The chatter of the lunchroom wasn’t so overwhelming suddenly.

“Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?” she muttered, leaning closer to Kara as she spoke, her dark golden eyes piercings. Kara tried to remember how to exhale. She had to look away.

“You’re doing it again.” Kara mumbled, watching Lena tense slightly as the blush raced up her face.

“What?”

“Dazzling me,” Kara admitted, trying to concentrate as she looked back at Lena.

“Oh.” Lena frowned.

“It’s not—it’s not your fault,” she sighed. “You can’t help it.”

“Are you going to answer the question?”

Kara looked down, unable to look at Lena and instead busied herself with the zipper of her jacket again. “Yes.”

“Yes, you are going to answer, or yes, you really think that?” Lena was irritated again.

“Yes, I really think that.” Kara kept her eyes on the table, her eyes tracing the pattern of the faux wood grains printed on the laminate. The silence dragged on. Kara stubbornly refused to be the first to break it this time, fighting hard against the temptation to peek at her expression.

Finally, Lena spoke, voice velvet soft. “You’re wrong.” Kara glanced up to see that her eyes were gentle and green.

“You can’t know that.” Kara disagreed in a whisper. She shook her head in doubt, though her heart throbbed at Lena’s words and Kara wanted so badly to believe them.

“What makes you think so?” Her liquid moss eyes were penetrating—trying futility, Kara assumed, to lift the truth straight from her mind. Kara stared back, struggling to think clearly despite Lena’s face, to find some way to explain. As she searched for words, she could see Lena getting impatient; frustrated by Kara’s silence, she started to scowl. Kara lifted her hand from her neck and held up one finger.

“Let me think,” Kara insisted. Lena’s expression was cleared, now that she was satisfied that Kara was planning to answer. Kara dropped her hand to the table, moving her left hand so that her palms pressed together. She stared at her hands, twisting and untwisting her fingers as she finally spoke.

“Well, aside from the obvious, sometimes…” Kara hesitated. “I can’t be sure—I can’t read minds like you and I don’t like to listen in on private matters—but sometimes it seems like you’re trying to say goodbye when you’re saying… when you’re saying something else.” That was the best Kara could do to sum up the whirlwind of emotions that Lena’s words triggered in her at times.

“Perceptive,” Lena whispered, and there was that feeling again—something akin to anguish—surfacing as she confirmed Kara’s fears. “That’s exactly why you’re wrong though,” Lena began to explain, but then her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘the obvious?’”

“Well, look at me,” Kara said, unnecessarily as Lena was already staring. “I’m absolutely ordinary—well, except the whole alien thing—nothing about me stands out. And look at you.” Kara waved a hand toward Lena and all her bewildering perfection. Lena’s brows creased angrily for a moment, then smoothed as her eyes took on a knowing look.

“You don’t see yourself very clearly, you know. You didn’t hear what every human male and female in this school was thinking on your first day.”

Kara blinked, astonished. “I don’t believe it…” she mumbled to herself.

“Trust me just this once—alienness aside, you are the opposite of ordinary.” Kara’s embarrassment was much stronger than her pleasure at the look that came into Lena’s eyes when she said those words. Kara quickly reminded Lena of the original topic.

“But I’m not saying goodbye,” she pointed out.

“Don’t you see? That’s what proves me right. I care the most, because if I can do it”—Lena shook her head, seeming to struggle with the though— “if leaving is the right thing to do, then I’ll hurt myself to keep from hurting you, to keep you safe.”

Kara glared. “And you don’t think I would do the same?”

“You’d never have to make the choice.”

Abruptly, her unpredictable mood shifted again; a mischievous, devastating smile rearranged her features. “Of course, keeping you safe seems to be a moot point now, but who knows what could happen. Something has to be able to break your skin. Not even I’m completely invulnerable. Keeping you safe from the unknown should be a full-time occupation that requires my constant presence.”

“No one has tried to do away with me today.” Kara teased gently, grateful for the lighter subject. She didn’t want Lena to talk about goodbyes anymore.

“Yet,” Lena added, still completely unconvinced that nothing here could harm Kara.

“Yet,” Kara agreed; she would have argued, but maybe if Lena kept expecting some unknown disaster—well, she wanted to keep Lena close.

“I have another question for you.” Lena’s face was still casual.

“Shoot.”

“Do you really need to go to Seattle this Saturday, or was that just an excuse to get out of saying no to all your admirers?” Kara made a face at the memory.

“I haven’t forgiven you for the Adam thing yet,” she warned, remembering that the reason Lena had caused a traffic jam was so that Adam could ask Kara out. “It’s your fault that he’s deluded himself into thinking I’m going to prom with him.”

“Oh, he would have found a chance to ask you without me—I just really wanted to watch your face,” Lena laughed, and Kara would have been angrier if her laughter wasn’t so fascinating. “If I’d asked you, would you have turned me down?” Lena asked, still laughing to herself.

“Probably not,” Kara admitted. “But I would have canceled later—faked an illness or a sprained ankle.

Lena was puzzled. “Why would you do that?”

Kara shook her head sadly. “You’ve never seen me in Gym, I guess, but I would have thought you would understand.”

“Are you referring to the fact you’re incredibly clumsy and once broke a kid’s nose by dancing?” Kara grimaced. Of course, Lena had heard that in Winn and Nia’s thoughts.

“Obviously.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem.” Lena was very confident. “It’s all in the leading. Plus, you can’t break me, Kara.” She could see that Kara was about to protest and cut her off. “But you never told me—are you resolved on going to Seattle, or do you mind if we do something different?”

As long as the “we” part was in, Kara didn’t care about anything else.

“I’m open to alternatives,” Kara allowed. “But I do have a favor to ask.” Lena looked wary, as she always did when Kara asked an open-ended question.

“What?”

“Can I drive?”

Lena frowned. “Why?”

“Well, mostly because, well, when I told Eliza I was going to Seattle, she specifically asked if I was going alone—and you know, at the time, I was. If she asked again, I probably wouldn’t lie, but I don’t think she will again, and leaving my truck at home would just bring up the subject unnecessarily. Oh, and also, because your driving is worrisome.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “Of all things about me, you’re worried about my driving.” She shook her head in amusement, but then her eyes were serious again. “Won’t you want to tell Eliza that you’re spending the day with me?” There was an undercurrent to Lena’s question that Kara didn’t understand.

“I’m not prepared for the questions.” Kara was definite about that. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“There weather will be nice, so I’ll be staying out of the public eye… and you can stay with me, if you’d like to.” Again, she left the choice up to Kara.

“And you’ll show me what you meant, about the sun?” Kara asked, excited by the idea of unraveling another one of the unknowns.

“Yes.” Lena smiled, and then paused. “But if you don’t want to be… alone with me, I’d still rather you didn’t go to Seattle by yourself. I shudder to think of the trouble you would find in a city that size.”

Kara was miffed. “National City is five times bigger than Seattle—just in population—”

“But apparently,” Lena interrupted, “trouble didn’t seek you out down in National City. So, I’d rather you stayed near me.” Her eyes did that unfair smoldering thing again.

“Reminder that I am invulnerable. But, as it happens, I don’t mind being alone with you.”

“I know,” Lena sighed, brooding. “You should tell Eliza, though.”

“Why?”

Lena’s eyes were suddenly fierce, their golden hue returning in full force. “To give me some small incentive to bring you back.

Kara rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Lena exhaled angrily and looked away.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Kara suggested.

“What do you want to talk about?” Lena asked, but she was still annoyed. Kara glanced around, making sure they were still out of anyone’s hearing.  As she cast her eyes around the room, she caught the eyes of her sister, Sam, staring at her. The others were looking at Lena. Kara looked away swiftly, back to Lena, and she asked the first thing that came to mind.

“Why did you go to that Goat Rocks place last weekend… to hunt? Eliza said it wasn’t a good place to hike, because of bears.” Lena stared at Kara as if she was missing something incredibly obvious.

“Bears?” she gasped, and Lena smirked. “You know, bears are not in season.” Kara added, trying to hide her shock.

“If you read carefully, the laws only cover hunting with weapons,” she informed Kara.

Lena watched her face with enjoyment as that slowly sank in.

“Bears?” She repeated with difficulty.

“Grizzly is Jack’s favorite.” Her voice was still offhand, but her eyes were scrutinizing Kara’s reaction. She tried to pull herself together.

“Hmmm.” Kara sounded, taking another bite of food as an excuse to look down. She chewed slowly, and then took a long drink of Coke without looking up.

“So,” she said after a moment, finally meeting Lena’s now anxious gaze. “What’s your favorite?”

Lena raised an eyebrow and the corners of her mouth turned down in disapproval.  “Mountain lion.”

“Ah,” Kara said in a politely disinterested tone, looking for her soda again.

“Of course,” Lena said, and her tone mirrored Kara’s, “we have to be careful not to impact the environment with injudicious hunting. We try to focus on areas with an overpopulation of predators—ranging as far away as we need. There’s always plenty of deer and elk here, and they’ll do, but where’s the fun in that?” she smiled teasingly.

“Where indeed,” Kara mumbled around another bite of food.

“Early spring is Jack’s favorite bear season—they’re just coming out of hibernation, so they’re more irritable.” She smiled at some remembered joke.

“Nothing more fun than an irritated grizzly bear,” Kara agreed, nodding. Lena snickered, shaking her head.

“Tell me what you’re really thinking, please,”

“I’m trying to picture it—but I can’t,” Kara admitted. “How do you hunt a bear without weapons? I mean, I imagine it’s similar to my power set, but I’ve never hunted a bear…”

“Oh, we have weapons.” Lena flashed her bright teeth in a brief, threatening smile. “Just not the kind they consider when writing hunting laws. If you’ve ever seen a bear attack on television, you should be able to visualize Jack hunting.”

Kara couldn’t help but shake her head and peeked across the cafeteria toward Jack, grateful that he wasn’t looking her way. The thick bands of muscle that wrapped his arms and torso were somehow even more menacing now.

Lena followed her gaze and chuckled. Kara stared at her, unnerved.

“Are you like a bear, too?” Kara asked in a low voice.

“More like the lion, or so they tell me,” She said lightly. “Perhaps our preferences are indicative.”

Kara tried to smile. “Perhaps,” she repeated, but her mind was filled with opposing images that she couldn’t merge together. “Is that something I might get to see?”

“Absolutely not!” Lena’s face turned even whiter than usual, and her eyes were suddenly furious. Kara leaned back, stunned. Lena leaned back as well, folding her arms across her chest. Kara had to force herself to look away as her prominent breasts were put more on display.

“Too scary for me?” Kare asked when she had control over her voice again.

“If that were it, I would take you out tonight,” Lena responded, her voice cutting. “You need a healthy dose of fear. Nothing could be more beneficial for you.”

Kara gave her a level look. “Then why?” she pressed, trying to ignore Lena’s angry expression. She glared at Kara for a long moment.

“Later,” she finally said. Lena was on her feet in one lithe movement. “We’re going to be late.”

Kara glanced around, startled to see that Lena was right and the cafeteria was nearly vacant. When she was with Lena, the time and the place were such a muddled blur that Kara completely lost track of both. She jumped up and grabbed her backpack from the back of her chair.

“Later, then.” She agreed. Kara wouldn’t forget.

Chapter Text

“Take the complications, rules, shoulds, musts, have tos, and so on out of your life. By uncomplicating your life and removing the trivial pursuits that occupy so much of it, you open a channel for the genius within you to emerge.”

― Wayne Dyer

Everyone watched them as they walked together to their lab table. Kara noticed that Lena no longer angled the chair to sit as far from Kara as the desk would allow. Instead, she sat quite close beside Kara, their arms almost touching.

Mr. Carr backed into the room then—what superb timing the man had—pulling a tall metal frame on wheels that held a heavy-looking, outdated TV and VCR. A movie day—the lift in the class atmosphere was almost tangible.

Mr. Carr shoved the tape into the reluctant VCR and walked to the wall to turn off the lights.

And then, as the room went black, Kara was suddenly hyperaware that Lena was sitting less than an inch from her. Kara was stunned by the unexpected electricity that flowed through her, amazed that it was possible to be more aware of Lena than she already was. A crazy impulse to reach over and touch her, to graze her perfect face just once in the darkness, nearly overwhelmed Kara. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, her hands balling into fist. She was sure she was losing her mind.

The opening credits began, lighting the room by a token amount—not that Kara needed it. Her eyes, of their own accord, flickered to Lena. Kara smiled sheepishly as she realized Lena’s posture was identical to her own, fist clenched under her arms, right down to the eyes, peering sideways at Kara. Lena grinned back, her eyes somehow managing to smolder, even in the dark. Kara looked away before she could do anything rash.

The hour seemed incredibly long. Kara couldn’t concentrate on the movie—she didn’t even know what subject it was on. She tried unsuccessfully to relax, but the electric current that seemed to be originating from somewhere in Lena’s body never slackened. Occasionally, Kara would permit herself a quick glance in Lena’s direction, but she never seemed to relax either. The overpowering craving to touch Lena also refused to fade, and Kara crushed her fists safely against her ribs—she wouldn’t risk breaking the table or her chair from the force of her grip. She breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Carr flicked the lights back on at the end of class, and stretched her arms out in front of her, flexing her stiff fingers. Lena snorted beside her.

“Well, that was interesting,” Lena articulated. Her voice was dark, and her eyes were cautious.

“Uh,” was the only thing that could leave Kara’s mouth in that tense moment.

“Shall we?” she asked, rising fluidly.

Kara almost groaned. Gym was next. Kara stood with care, focusing very hard on not shattering anything. Her concentration seemed affected by the strange new intensity between them. Lena walked Kara to her next class in silence and paused at the door; Kara turned to say goodbye. Lena’s face startled her—her expression was torn, almost pained, and so fiercely beautiful that the ache to touch Lena flared as strong as before. Kara’s goodbye was lodged in her throat.

Lena raised her hand, hesitant, conflict raging in his eyes, and then swiftly brushed the length of Kara’s cheekbone with her fingertips. Lena’s skin was comfortably cool to Kara, like she had expected, but the trail her fingers left on her skin was alarmingly warm—like Kara had been burned but didn’t feel the pain of it yet.

Lena turned without a word and strode quickly away from Kara. She walked into the gym, feeling the lightheadedness that she knew was imaginative. Kara drifted to the locker room, changing in a trancelike state, only vaguely aware that there were other people surrounding her. She was completely enamored with Lena Luthor’s existence. Reality didn’t fully set in until she was handed a racket. It felt entirely unsafe in her hand. She could see a few of the other kids in class eyeing her furtively. She needed to get a grip on herself before she sent the building crumbling down around them. Coach Lord ordered them to pair up into teams.

Mercifully, Winn approached Kara before Mike and came to stand beside her.

“Do you want to be a team?’

“Winn, I could kiss you right now.” She exhaled in relief.

He grimaced, “Save that for you know who! And don’t worry, I’ll keep out of your way.” Kara imagined Winn was remembering a previous incident that ended with him on the gym floor with a nasty bruise on his forehead.

It didn’t go smoothly. Kara managed to send a birdie straight through the net—it was easily explained away by Winn who said it was frayed and was bound to split apart eventually. He gave her a strange look, as if he knew something she didn’t but he never said anything about it. Kara spent the rest of the hour in the back corner of the court, trying to participate as little as possible. Winn wasn’t practically good at sports, and he only managed to win one of the four games in the last round as coach finally blew the whistle. He gave Kara an unearned high five and she made sure to roll her arm with the movement.

“So,” Kara turned to see Mike approaching as they walked off the court, to flank her on one side. She watched Winn clench his jaw, but he remained silent.

“So what?”

“You and Luthor, huh?” he queried, his tone rebellious. Kara’s jaw clenched, and her mouth opened to respond but Winn beat her to it.

“That’s none of your business, Mike.” Winn warned, but Mike seemed to ignore it.

“I don’t like it,” he griped anyway.

“You don’t have to,” Kara fumed and felt as Winn’s hand wrapped around her forearm, tugging at her with all his human might. She didn’t budge for even a second.

“She looks at you like… like you’re something to eat.” Mike continued, disregarding the outburst.

Kara choked back her response, but a small giggle managed to get out despite her efforts. Winn’s hand seemed to tighten. Mike glowered at them both. Kara set her jaw and fled to the locker room once Winn’s grip had eased up.

Kara dressed quickly, feeling something stronger than butterflies battering recklessly against the walls of her stomach, her argument with Mike already a distant memory. She wondered if Lena would be waiting, or if she should meet her at the car. Kara suddenly felt a wave of terror—what if Lena’s family was there? What if they know that I knew? Was I supposed to know that they knew that I knew or not?

Kara was somehow the last to exit the locker room but was quickly grabbed by Winn. They were the only two left in the gym.

“Winn?” she faltered.

“Hey, I need to talk to you.” Kara’s eyebrow furrowed and she did a quick listen around to make sure no one was in earshot.

“What’s up?”

“So, I know that something is up—about Lena—”

“Winn what are you talking about?”

“I know that she’s not—” he began to whisper, “—I know she wasn’t near you before the van.” Kara eyebrows shot up, panic striking through her. “She’s not—”

“WinnImanalien.” It came out in a rush that was entirely incomprehensible to anyone but her—and probably Lena. She tried again, hellbent on protecting Lena. “Winn, I’m an alien. I stopped the van.”

“I know that you’re—”

“What—”

“—but Lena’s a vamp—” Kara hand clamped down on Winn’s mouth in a blur of superspeed. His eyes widened, his eyebrow nearing his hairline.

“Winn, you cannot say anything. You can’t know that.” He tried to pull her hand away, but she didn’t budge a centimeter. She was trying to communicate something crucial through her eyes. Slowly he nodded, understanding dawning on his face.

He gulped. “So, I was right, you’re an alien?” Kara nodded once and he exhaled. “And?” Kara nodded to the unspoken question. “Okay then.” He exhaled deeply, scratching at the scar on his chin. “Okay. I promise it’s safe with me.” He lifted up his pinky and Kara grasped it with her own. She watched as Winn kissed his half before doing the same.

“I didn’t stop the van.” she addressed. Winn nodded in understanding before pulling Kara into a hug with as much strength as he could muster.

“I’m here for you, okay?” Kara nodded against his shoulder, hugging him as tight as she dared until she heard his lungs wheeze. Once they detached, he gripped her shoulders meaningfully. “Now, I know a certain someone drove you to school, so, go get the girl.” His gleeful smile returned and only widened at Kara’s blush. He ushered her out of the gym after that.

The school parking lot had dissipated greatly, and it seemed her worries were unnecessary. Lena was waiting, leaning casually against the side of the gym, her breathtaking face untroubled now.

“Hi,” Kara breathed, smiling hugely.

“Hello.” Her answering smile was brilliant. “How was Gym?” Kara’s face fell minutely.

“Fine,” she lied.

“Really?” Lena was unconvinced. Her eyes shifted their focus slightly, looking over Kara’s shoulder and narrowing. Kara glanced behind her to see Winn’s back as he walked away. “Winn’s thoughts are quite loud.” Lena smirked but said nothing further besides the careful look she was giving. And then she frowned as she clearly shifted through Winn’s thoughts.

Kara braced for the inevitable backlash of Winn knowing both their secrets.

“Matthews’ getting on my nerves.” Was what came out instead. Kara’s jaw ticked. Mike wasn’t just getting on Lena’s nerves. “I also ‘heard’ you ripped a hole in the net?”

Kara was horror-struck. “You were listening?”

Lena nodded, a small smirk taking place.

“You were the one who mentioned how I’d never seen you in Gym—it made me curious.” Lena was in no way repentant, so Kara ignored it. They walked in silence to her car, but Kara stopped a few steps away—a crowd of people, all boys, were surrounding it.

Then she realized they weren’t surrounding the Volvo, they were actually circled around Andrea’s red convertible, unmistakable lust in their eyes. None of them even looked up as Lena slid between them to open her door. Kara climbed quickly into the passenger side, also unnoticed.

“Ostentatious,” Lena demurred.

“What kind of car is that?”

“An M3.”

Kara nodded, sifting through all the times Alex had mentioned cars. “A BMW?”

“Yes. Are you upset that I was listening?” Lena asked as she carefully maneuvered her way out.

“Kind of?”

Lena sighed. “Will you forgive me if I apologize?”

“Maybe… if you mean it. And you promise not to do it again,”

Her eyes were suddenly shrewd. “How about if I mean it, and I agree to let you drive Saturday?” she countered Kara’s conditions. Kara considered, and decided it was the best offer she would get.

“Deal,” Kara agreed.

“Then I’m sorry I upset you.” Lena’s eyes burned with sincerity for a protracted moment—playing havoc with the rhythm of Kara’s heart—and then turned playful. “And I’ll be on your doorstep bright and early Saturday morning.”

“That uh, it doesn’t help with the Eliza situation if an unexplained Volvo is left in the driveway.”

Lena’s smile turned condescending. “I wasn’t intending to bring a car.”

“Oh—” it hit Kara exactly what Lena meant.

“I’ll be there, no car.” Kara let it go, she had more pressing things to question.

“Is it later yet?” she braved.

Lena frowned. “I suppose it is later.”

Kara kept her expression polite as she waited.

Lena stopped the car and looked up, surprised—of course they were already at Eliza’s house, parked behind the truck. It was easier to ride with Lena if Kara only looked when it was over. When she looked back at Lena, she was staring at Kara, measuring her with her eyes.

“And you still want to know why you can’t see me hunt?” Lena seemed solemn, but Kara thought she saw a trace of humor deep in those green eyes.

“Well,” Kara clarified, “I was mostly wondering about your reaction.”

“Did I frighten you?” Yes, there was definitely humor.

“No,” Kara answered honestly.

“I apologize for my reaction regardless.” Lena persisted with a slight smile, but then all evidence of teasing disappeared. “It was just the very thought of you being there… while we hunted.” Her jaw tightened.

“That would be bad?”

Lena spoke between her clenched teeth. “Extremely.”

“Because…?”

Lena took a deep breath and stared through the windshield at the thick, rolling clouds that seemed to press down, almost within reach.

“When we hunt,” Lena spoke slowly, unwillingly, “we give ourselves over to our senses… govern less with our minds. Especially our sense of smell. If you were anywhere near me when I lost control that way…” she shook her head, still gazing morosely at the heavy clouds.

Kara kept her expression firmly under control, expecting the swift flash of Lena’s eyes to judge Kara’s reaction that was soon to follow. Her face gave nothing away. Alex might’ve been impressed by Kara’s poker face in that moment.

Their eyes held, and the silence deepened and changed. Flickers of electricity that she’d felt this afternoon began to charge the atmosphere as Lena gazed unrelentingly into Kara’s eyes. It wasn’t until minutes later that Kara realized she had been holding her breath. When she drew in a soft breath— not ragged in the way Lena expected— it broke the stillness and Lena closed her eyes.

“Kara, I think you should go inside now.” Lena’s voice was rough again, her eyes opening to stare at the clouds.

Kara opened the door, reveling in the feeling of the draft that washed over her in the next instance. Kara climbed carefully out of the car, her fingers slotting into the already made dents of her fingers before she shut the door softly. The whir of the automatic window unrolling made Kara look back.

“Oh, Kara?” Lena called after her, her voice more even. Lena leaned toward the open window with a faint smile on her lips.

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow it’s my turn.”

“Your turn to what?”

Lena smiled wider, flashing her gleaming teeth. “Ask the questions.” And then she was gone, the car speeding down the street and disappearing around the corner before Kara could even collect her thoughts. Kara smiled as she walked to the house. It was clear Lena was planning to see Kara tomorrow, if nothing else.

That night Lena starred in Kara’s strange mix of nightmares and dreams, as usual. Something was different though; the climate of her unconsciousness had changed. It thrilled with the same electricity that had charged the afternoon, and Kara tossed and turned restlessly, waking often. It was only in the early hours of the morning that she finally sank into a dreamless sleep.

When she woke, she wasn’t tired—it was hard to tire a Kryptonian—but she felt somewhat on edge. She pulled on a deep green turtleneck that clung to her body and highlighted the muscles she usually tried to hide, along with a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knees. Breakfast was the usual, quiet event she had expected. Eliza had fried eggs for herself; Kara had a heaping bowl of cereal.  She wondered if Eliza had forgotten about this Saturday, but she answered the unspoken question as she stood to take her plate to the sink.

“About this Saturday…” Eliza began, walking across the kitchen and turning on the faucet.

Kara winced. “Yeah?”

“Are you still set on going to Seattle?” she asked, her tone worried.

“That was the plan.” Kara played with the spoon in her bowl, wishing Eliza hadn’t brought it up so she wouldn’t have to compose careful half-truths to her adoptive mother.

Eliza squeezed some dish soap onto her plate and swirled it around with the brush. “Are you sure you can’t make it back in time for the dance?”

“I’m not going to the dance, Eliza.” She breathed out, releasing her grip on the spoon.

“Did anyone ask you?” Eliza questioned, trying to hide her concern by focusing on rinsing the plate.

Kara sidestepped the minefield. “It’s a girl’s choice.” She still wasn’t ready to tell Eliza about her sexuality—she didn’t seem to have the courage for it.

“Oh.” Eliza frowned as she dried the plate.

Kara sympathized with her. It must be a difficult thing, to be a mother; living in fear that your daughter would meet a boy she liked, but also having to worry if she didn’t. Not to mention the added layer of being an alien and fearing your daughter would never meet someone that could share and love that burden. How ghastly it would be, Kara thought, frowning, if Eliza had even the slightest inkling of exactly what she liked. She didn’t imagine having an alien daughter who liked a vampire girl would go over well with the doctor.

Eliza left then, with a kiss on the top of Kara’s head, and Kara headed for the stairs to brush her teeth and gather her books. When she heard Eliza’s car pull away, she could only wait a few seconds before she peeked out her window. The silver car was already there, waiting in Eliza’s spot in the driveway. Kara floated down the stairs and landed with a thud as she exited the front door, wondering how long this bizarre routine would continue. She never wanted it to end. Lena waited in the car, not appearing to watch as Kara shut the door behind her without bothering to lock the deadbolt. Kara walked to the car, pausing shyly before opening the door and stepping in. Lena was smiling, relaxed—and, as usual, perfect and beautiful to an excruciating degree.

“Good morning.” Her voice was silky. “How are you today?” Her eyes roamed over Kara’s face, as if her question was something more than simple courtesy. Then her eyes traveled to Kara’s arms and seemed to linger there for a moment.

“Good, thank you.” Kara was always good—much more than good—when she was near Lena.

Lena’s gaze lingered on Kara’s bouncing foot. “You seem on edge?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed, automatically adjusting her glasses and trying to quell the bounce of her foot.

“Neither could I,” Lena teased as she started the engine. Kara was becoming used to the quiet purr. She was sure the roar of her truck would overwhelm her immensely, whenever she got to drive again.

Kara tittered. “I guess that’s right. I suppose I slept just a little bit more than you did.”

“I’d wager you did.”

“So what did you do last night?” Kara inquired but Lena just laughed.

“Not a chance. It’s my day to ask questions.”

“Oh, that—that’s right. What do you want to know?” Kara’s crinkle appeared between her brows. She had no idea what Lena would ask.

“What’s your favorite color?” Lena asked, her face grave.

Kara rolled her eyes. “It changes from day to day.”

“What’s your favorite color today?” she was still solemn.

“Probably green.” Kara tried not to think about the real reason why.

Lena snorted, dropping her serious expression. “Green?” she asked skeptically.

“Sure. I mean, everything here is covered in green—tree trunks, rocks, dirt—is all covered up with moss and the likes up here. It’s not an off shade of green, but a deep green that is warm.” and not at all because your eyes are green.

Lena seemed fascinated by the tid bit of information. She considered for a moment, staring into Kara’s eyes. “You’re right,” she decided, serious again. “Green is warm.” She reached over, swiftly, but somehow still hesitantly, to sweep Kara’s hair back behind her shoulder from where it had fallen.

They were at the school by now. Lena turned back to Kara as she pulled into a parking space.

“What music is in your CD player right now?” Lena asked, her face as somber as if she’d asked for a murder confession.

Kara realized she’d never removed the CD Alex had given her. When she said the name of the band, Lena smiled crookedly, a peculiar expression in her eyes. She flipped open a compartment under her car’s CD player, pulled out one of thirty or so CDs that were jammed into the small space, and handed it to Kara.

“This?” She raised that singular eyebrow.

It was the same CD. Kara examined the familiar cover art, keeping her eyes down.

It continued like that for the rest of the day. While Lena walked her to English, when she met Kara after Spanish, and all through the lunch hour, Lena questioned her relentlessly about every insignificant detail of her existence. Movies she’d liked and hated, the few places (on Earth) she’d been, and many places she wanted to go, and books—endlessly books. 

Kara often talked a lot, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked this much. More often than not, Kara felt self-conscious, certain she must be boring to Lena. But the absolute absorption on her face and her never ending stream of questions compelled Kara to continue. Mostly, Lena’s questions were easy, only a few triggering easy blushes, and no questions about anything related to her being an alien. And when Kara did blush, it brought on a whole new round of questions.

Such as the time Lena asked for her favorite gemstone, and Kara blurted out nephrite without thinking. Lena had been flinging questions at Kara with such speed that she felt like she was taking one of those psychiatric tests where you answer the first word that comes to mind. Kara was sure Lena would have continued down whatever mental list she was following, except for the blush. Kara’s face reddened because, until very recently, her favorite gemstone was garnet. It was impossible, while staring back into Lena’s nephrite eyes, not to remember the reason for the switch. And, naturally, Lena wouldn’t rest until she’d admitted why she was embarrassed.

“Tell me,” Lena finally commanded after persuasion failed—failed only because Kara kept her eyes safely away from her face.

“It’s the color of your eyes,” Kara sighed, surrendering, staring down at her hands as she fiddled with a piece of her hair. “I suppose, I have three. Nephrite, for when your eyes are green, topaz when they’re golden, and onyx when they’re black.” She’d given more information than necessary in her unwilling honesty, and Kara worried it would provoke the strange anger that flared whenever she slipped and revealed too clearly how obsessed she was with Lena.

But Lena’s pause was short.

“What kinds of flowers do you prefer?” she fired off. Kara sighed in relief and continued with the psychoanalysis. Biology was a complication again. Lena had continued with her quizzing up until Mr. Carr entered the room, dragging the audiovisual frame again. As the teacher approached the light switch, Kara noticed Lena slide her chair slightly further from Kara’s. It didn’t help. As soon as the room was dark, there was the same electric spark, the same restless craving to stretch her hand across the short space and touch Lena’s cool skin, as yesterday.

Kara leaned forward on the table, resting her chin on her folded arms, her hidden fingers gripping the table’s edge dangerously as she fought to ignore the irrational longing that unsettled her. She didn’t look at Lena, afraid that if she was looking at her, it would only make Kara’s self-control that much harder. Kara sincerely tried to watch the movie, but at the end of the hour she had no idea what she’d just seen. She sighed in relief again when Mr. Carr turned the lights on, finally glancing at Lena; she was looking at Kara, her eyes ambivalent.

Lena rose in silence and then stood still, waiting for Kara. They walked toward the gym in silence, like yesterday. And also, like yesterday, Lena touched Kara’s face wordlessly—this time with the back of her cool hand, stroking once from Kara’s temple to jaw—before she turned and walked away. Lena had distracted Kara almost entirely from her friends, and Gym passed quickly as she caught up with Winn and Nia—with Winn giving knowing looks the entire time. Mike didn’t speak to her today, either in response to Kara’s ignorance of him, or because he was still angry over the squabble yesterday. Kara couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about that, let alone concentrate on Mike as they played badminton on opposite teams. Kara hurried to change afterward, fighting the urge to use her superspeed in the crowded locker room. Eventually she made it out the door, a wide smile automatically spreading across her face as she met Lena at the door. Lena smiled in reaction before launching into more cross examination.

Now, alone in Lena’s car, her questions were different, not as easily answered. Lena wanted to know what Kara missed about home—Krypton—insisting on description of anything and everything and only briefly stopping when she sensed tears in Kara’s eyes. They sat in front of Eliza’s house for hours, as the sky darkened, and the rain plummeted around them in sudden deluge.

Kara tried describing impossible things like the scent of the Oregus Plant—bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant—of the Kryptonian legends of Nightwing and Flamebird, the barrenness of the ice planet outside of the sprawling cities, the very size of the red sun, extending orange red from horizon to horizon, occasionally interrupted by spires of ice that covered the planet. The hardest thing to explain was the beauty of Krypton—to justify a beauty that didn’t exist on Earth—Kara promised to show Lena the Fortress of Solitude one day—to just justify the many deadly vegetations and predators that lurked on the exposed shape of land, to explain the guild systems and the birthing matrix, and everything in between. The one thing that didn’t give beauty was the Phantom Zone. Kara didn’t tell Lena everything about that, nor how long she was trapped there. Kara found herself using her hands as she tried to describe it to Lena, especially as she tried to think of English translations for certain words.

Lena’s quiet, probing questions kept Kara talking freely, lifting a burden off her shoulders she didn’t know was there, and forgetting, in the dim light of the storm, to be embarrassed for monopolizing the conversation. Finally, when Kara had finished detailing her room on Krypton and how she got the scar next to her eyebrow, Lena paused instead of responding with another question.

“Are you finished?” Kara asked in relief; talking about Krypton was still emotionally taxing.

“Not even close—but Eliza will be home soon.”

“Eliza!” Kara suddenly recalled her existence and sighed; her mind had been solely on Krypton and Lena. Kara looked out at the rain-darkened sky, but it gave nothing away. “How late is it?” she wondered out loud as she glanced at the clock, surprised by the time—Eliza would be driving home now.

“Twilight—it’s a half-light,” Lena muttered, looking at the western horizon, obscured as it was with clouds. Her voice was thoughtful, as if her mind were somewhere far away. Kara stared at her as Lena gazed unseeingly out the windshield.

Kara was still staring when Lena’s eyes suddenly shifted back to hers

“It’s the safest time of day for us,” Lena said, answering the unspoken question in Kara’s eyes. “The easiest time. But also, the saddest, in a way… the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” Lena smiled wistfully.

“I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars. I would never be able to see Krypton’s spot in the sky.” Kara frowned. “Not that you see them here much, and I’m kind of forbidden from flying up.”

Lena laughed, arching an eyebrow at the revelation that Kara could fly. The mood was abruptly lightened.

“Eliza will be here in a few minutes. So, unless you want to tell her that you’ll be with me Saturday…” that eyebrow arched again.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Kara gathered her books in a blur of super speed that Lena silently appraised. “So is it my turn tomorrow, then?”

“Certainly not!” Lena’s face was teasingly outraged. “I told you I wasn’t done, didn’t I?”

“What more is there?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow.” Lena reached across to open the door for Kara, and her sudden proximity sent Kara’s heart into frenzied palpitations. Lena’s hand froze on the handle.

“Not good,” she muttered.

“What is it?” Kara was surprised to see that Lena’s jaw was clenched; her eyes disturbed.

Lena glanced at her for a brief second. “Another complication.” She responded glumly.

She flung the door open in one swift movement, then moved, almost cringed, swiftly away from Kara.

The flash of headlights through the rain caught Kara’s attention as a dark car pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing them.

“Eliza’s around the corner,” Lena warned, staring through the downpour at the other vehicle.

Kara hopped out at once, despite her confusion and curiosity. The rain was louder as it glanced off her jacket.

Kara tried to make out the shapes in the front seat of the other car, but she wouldn’t be able to make it out without removing her glasses. She could see Lena illuminated in the glare of the new car’s headlights; she was still staring ahead, her gaze locked on something or someone Kara couldn’t see. Lena’s expression was a strange mix of frustration and defiance.

Then she revved the engine, and the tires squealed against the wet pavement. The Volvo was out of sight in seconds.

“Hey, Kara,” called a familiar, husky voice from the driver’s side of the little black car.

“Maggie?” she asked, trying to clear the rain from the unnecessary glasses. Just then, Eliza’s sedan swung around the corner, her lights shining on the occupants of the car in front of Kara.

Maggie was already climbing out, her wide grin and dimples clearly visible. In the passenger seat was an older woman with a memorable face—a face that dragged with age, with creases running through the russet skin like an old leather jacket. And the surprisingly familiar eyes, black eyes that seemed at the same time both too young and too ancient for the face they were set in. Maggie’s aunt, Wyonna Sawyer, Kara easily connected. She was staring at Kara, scrutinizing her face, so Kara smiled tentatively at the elder woman. Her eyes were wide, as if in shock or fear, her nostrils flared. Kara’s smile faded.

Another complication, Lena had said.

Wyonna stared at Kara with intense, anxious eyes. Kara groaned internally. Had Wyonna recognized Lena so easily? Could she really believe the impossible legends her niece had scoffed at?

The answer was clear in Wyonna’s eyes. Yes. Yes, she could.

Chapter Text

“No person, no place, and no thing has any power over us, for 'we' are the only thinkers in our mind. When we create peace and harmony and balance in our minds, we will find it in our lives.”

― Louise L. Hay

“Wyonna!” Eliza called as soon as she got out of the car. Kara turned toward the house, beckoning Maggie as she ducked under the porch. She heard Eliza greeting them behind her.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you behind the wheel, Maggie,” Eliza said with disapproval, the sounds reaching Kara easily through the downpour.

“I have my license now,” Maggie said while Kara unlocked the door and flicked the porch light on.

“I’m sure,” Eliza laughed.

“I have to get around somehow.” Kara knew it was Wyonna’s voice easily. Kara went inside, leaving the door open behind her as she turned on the lights and hung up her jacket. Then she stood by the door, watching anxiously as Eliza and Maggie helped Wyonna out of the car and into her wheelchair. Kara backed out of the way as the three of them hurried in, shaking off the rain.

“This is a surprise,” Eliza was saying.

“It’s been too long,” Wyonna answered. “I hope it’s not a bad time.” Her dark eyes flashed up to meet Kara again, their expression unreadable.

“No, it’s a great time. I hope you can stay for the game.” Kara’s brows furrowed. She had never known Eliza to be interested in sports.

Maggie grinned. “I think that’s the plan—our TV broke last week.” Wyonna made a face at her niece.

“And of course, Maggie was anxious to see Kara again,” she added. Maggie scowled and ducked her head. Had she accidentally been flirting with Maggie at the beach?

“Are you hungry?” Kara asked, turning toward the kitchen. She was eager to escape Wyonna’s searching gaze.

“Nah, we ate just before we came.” Maggie responded.

She didn’t even try asking Eliza—she knew Eliza would kick her out the kitchen in a heartbeat. She listened as they moved in the direction of the front room and the TV, Wyonna’s chair soon to follow.

Kara sat at the table, cracking open her Trig homework.

As Kara scanned over the questions, she sensed someone walking into the room.

“So, how are things?” Maggie asked, taking the seat across from Kara.

“Pretty good.” Kara smiled; Maggie’s enthusiasm was hard to resist—when did Maggie become so enthusiastic? “How about you? Did you finish your car? I remember you mentioning it once at Lunch.”

“No,” she frowned. “I still need parts. We borrowed that one.” Maggie gestured with her thumb in the direction of the front yard.

“Sorry. I hope you’re able to find the parts.”

“Is there something wrong with the truck—Jacob’s dad worked on it when it was Bella’s.”

Kara shook her head. “Oh, I just wondered because you weren’t driving it.”

Kara stared down at her homework, toying with the edge of the paper. “I got a ride with a friend.”

Maggie hummed. “I couldn’t see who the driver was through the rain.” Kara hummed again, making a show of doing the work for a problem before circling the answer. “My aunt seemed to know her from somewhere.”

Kara turned the paper toward Maggie. “Could you help me with this question?” She was hopping this would distract Maggie, but as Maggie finished doing the work for the question and explaining it to Kara, “So who was it?”

Kara sighed in defeat. “Lena Luthor.”

To her surprise, Maggie laughed. Kara glanced up; she looked a little embarrassed.

“Guess that explain it then, I remember she couldn’t keep her eyes off you when I was still at Forks High.” She said. “I wondered why my aunt was acting so strange.”

“That’s right.” Kara faked the innocent expression. “She doesn’t like the Luthors.”

“Superstitious legends if you ask me,” Maggie mumbled under her breath.

“You don’t think she’d say anything to Eliza?” Kara couldn’t help asking, the words coming out in a low rush.

Maggie stared at her for a moment, and Kara couldn’t read the expression in her dark eyes. “I doubt it,” she finally answered. “I think Eliza chewed her out pretty good last time. They haven’t spoken since Eliza made a trip up here a year ago—tonight is sort of a reunion, I think. I don’t think my aunt would bring it up again.”

“Oh,” Kara tried desperately to sound indifferent.

When Kara was done with her homework, she joined everyone in the front room, pretending to watch the game while Maggie chatted with her. Kara was really listening to Eliza and Wyonna’s conversation, watching for any sign that Wyonna was about to rat her out, trying to think of ways to stop her if she began. It was a long night, but she was afraid to leave Wyonna alone with Eliza. Finally, the game ended.

“Are you and your friends coming back to the beach soon?” Maggie asked as she pushed her aunt over the lip of the threshold. Kara noticed how Maggie didn’t refer to them as her friends anymore. It was strange and peculiar, something to find out later.

“I’m not sure,” Kara hedged.

“That was fun, Eliza,” Wyonna announced.

“Come up for the next game,” Kara and a feeling Eliza didn’t really like sports; it seemed to rather be an equal ground for the women to hang out over.

“Sure, sure,” Wyonna said. “We’ll be here. Have a good night.” Her eyes shifted to Kara, and her smile disappeared. “You take care, Kara,” she added seriously.

“Thanks,” she muttered, looking away.

She headed for the stairs while Eliza waved from the doorway.

“Wait, Kara,” she said.

Kara cringed, wondering if Wyonna got something in without Kara realizing.

But Eliza was relaxed, still grinning from the unexpected visit. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you tonight. How was your day?”

“Good.” Kara hesitated with one foot on the first stair, searching for details she could safely share. “My badminton team won one out of four games, which is an improvement.”

“You’re playing?” Kara recognized her tone and was quick to remedy it.

“I’m being careful I swear! No obvious use of power, I’m restraining my strength—plus my friend did most the work.” Total lie, Kara actually made a point to carefully try in gym today—not as much as Winn had, but it was noticeable difference. Everyone seemed impressed by the minuscule effort but didn’t say anything.

“Who is it?” Eliza asked with interest.

“Uh… Winn Schott.”

“Oh yeah—you said you were friends with Winslow.” Eliza perked up. “Nice family,” she mused for a moment. “Why didn’t you ask him to the dance this weekend?”

“Eliza!” Kara groaned. “He’s kind of dating my friend James, and I don’t like him like that. Besides, you know what happened last time I went to a school dance.”

Eliza laughed at that, smiling apologetically. “So I guess it’s good you’ll be gone Saturday… I’ve made plans with some friends from work. The weather’s supposed to be warm so—if you wanted to put your trip off till someone could go with you, I’d stay home. I know with Alex away in school and me working all the time, I leave you here alone too much.”

“Eliza, you’re doing a great job.” Kara smiled genuinely, feeling Eliza’s care wash over her. “I don’t mind. It’s a bit strange, but the quiet is nice.” Eliza smiled back, seemingly at peace knowing that Kara was okay.

Kara slept better that night; her sleep dreamless. When she woke to the pearl-gray morning, her mood was blissful. The tense evening with Wyonna and Maggie seemed harmless enough now; Kara decided to try and forget it. She caught herself whistling while she was pulling her hair into an intricate bun, and later again as she skipped down the stairs. Eliza noticed.

“You’re cheerful this morning,” she commented over breakfast.

Kara shrugged. “It’s Friday.”

Kara used her superspeed, rushing so she would be ready the second Eliza left. She had her bag ready, shoes on, teeth brushed. As soon as she heard Eliza’s car turn the corner, Kara rushed to the door. Lena was already waiting in her shiny car, windows down, engine off.

Kara didn’t hesitate this time, climbing in the passenger side quickly, the sooner to see her face. Lena grinned, one corner of her mouth lifted, stopping Kara’s breath and heart. She likened Lena’s beauty to that of an angel that humans raved about. Lena was glorious—there was nothing about her that could be improved upon.

“How did you sleep?” Lena asked. Kara wondered if she had any idea how appealing her voice was.

“Fine. How was your night?”

“Pleasant.” Lena’s smile was amused; Kara felt like she was missing an inside joke.

“Can I ask what you did?” Kara inquired.

“No.” Lena grinned. “Today is still mine.” Lena wanted to know about people today: more about Alex, her hobbies, and what they’d done in their free time together. And then about Kara’s biological family, her few school friends—embarrassing Kara when Lena asked about previous boys or girls she had dated. Kara was relieved she’d never truly dated anyone, so that particular conversation couldn’t last long. Lena seemed as surprised as Winn and Nia by her lack of romantic history.

“So you never met anyone you wanted?” Lena asked in a serious tone that made Kara wonder what she was thinking about.

Kara was grudgingly honest. “Not in National City—well, more like there was never a deep connection with anyone to last long enough to—to get into the dating stage.”

Lena’s lips pressed together into a hard line.

They were in the cafeteria at this point. The day had sped by in a blur that was rapidly becoming routine. Kara took advantage of Lena’s brief pause to take a bite of her bagel.

“I should have let you drive yourself today.” Lena announced, apropos of nothing, while Kara chewed.

“Why?” She asked, confused.

“I’m leaving with Sam after lunch.”

“Oh.” Kara blinked, bewildered and disappointed. “That’s okay, it’s not that far of a walk. Especially for me.”

Lena frowned at Kara impatiently. “I’m not going to make you walk home. We’ll get your truck and leave it here for you.”

“I don’t have my key with me,” she sighed. “I really don’t mind walking. I don’t get exhausted easily.” Lena had a mischievous look in her eyes that caused Kara to brush raucously. Lena shook her head.

“Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition—unless you’re afraid someone might steal it.” She laughed at the thought.

“All right,” Kara agreed, pursing her lips. She knew her keys were in the pocket of a pair of jeans she wore on Wednesday, under a pile of clothes in the laundry room. Even if Lena broke into her house, or whatever she was planning, she’d never find it. Kara wouldn’t be able to find it without x-ray vision, and she was pretty certain vampires didn’t have that skill. Lena seemed to feel the challenge in Kara’s consent. Lena smirked, overconfident.

“So where are you going?” Kara asked as casually as she could manage.

“Hunting,” Lena answered grimly. “If I’m going to be alone with you tomorrow, I’m going to take whatever precautions I can.” her face grew morose… and pleading. “You can always cancel, you know.” Kara looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of her eyes. She refused to be convinced to fear Lena, especially when she knew no harm could befall her. If only Lena could understand that.

“No,” she whispered back, glancing back at Lena’s face. “I can’t.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” she whispered bleakly. Her eyes swirled from green to dark gold.

Kara changed the subject. “What time will I see you tomorrow?” she asked, already saddened by the thought of Lena leaving now.

“That depends… it’s Saturday, don’t you want to sleep in?” she offered.

“No,” she answered too fast; Lena restrained a smile.

“The same time as usual, then,” she decided. “Will Eliza be there?”

“No, she’s going out with friends tomorrow.” Kara beamed at the memory of how conveniently things had worked out.

Lena’s voice turned sharp. “And if you don’t come home, what will she think?”

“I have no idea,” Kara responded nonchalantly. “She knows I’ve been missing Alex. Maybe she’ll think I flew down there.” Lena scowled at her, but Kara just looked at her blankly.

“What are you hunting tonight?” Kara asked once she was sure Lena’s glowering had dissipated.

“Whatever we find in the park. We aren’t going far.” Lena seemed bemused by Kara’s causal reference to her secret realities.

“Why are you going with Sam?”

“Sam is the most… supportive.” Lena was frowning again.

“And the others?” Kara adjusted her glasses. “What are they?” Lena’s brow puckered for a brief moment.

“Incredulous, for the most part.” Kara peeked quickly behind her to Lena’s family. They sat staring off in different directions, exactly the same as the first time she’d seen them. Only now there were four; their beautiful, dark-haired sister sat across from Kara, her golden eyes troubled.

“They don’t like me,” she guessed.

“That’s not it,” Lena disagreed, but her eyes were too innocent. “They don’t understand why I can’t leave you alone.”

Kara frowned. “Neither do I, for that matter.”

Lena shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes before she met Kara’s gaze again. “I told you—you don’t see yourself clearly at all. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known. You fascinate me.” Kara glared.

She mouthed, “Is it because I’m an alien?”

Lena rolled her eyes again, shaking her head. “Having the advantages I do,” she whispered, touching her forehead discreetly, “I have a better grasp on human nature. People are predictable. But you… you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise.”

Kara looked away, her eyes wandering back to Lena’s family, embarrassed and dissatisfied. Her words made Kara feel like a science experiment. She wanted to laugh at herself for expecting anything else.

“That part is easy enough to explain,” she continued. Kara felt Lena’s eyes on her face, but she couldn’t look at Lena yet, afraid Lena might read the chagrin in her eyes. “But there’s more... and it’s not so easy to put into words—” Kara was still staring at the Luthors while she spoke. Suddenly, Andrea, her breathtaking sister, turned to look at Kara. No, not to look—to glare, with dark, cold eyes. Kara wanted to look away, but her gaze held Kara’s until Lena broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under her breath. It was almost a hiss.

Andrea turned her head, and Kara was relieved to be free. She looked back at Lena—and she knew Lena could see the confusion that widened her eyes.

Lena’s face was tight as she explained. “I’m sorry about that. She’s just worried. You see… it’s dangerous for more than just me if—after spending so much time with you so publicly…” Lena looked down.

“If?”

“If this ends… badly.” Lena dropped her head into her hands, as she had that night in Port Angeles. Lena’s anguish was plain; Kara yearned to comfort her, but she was at a loss to know how. Kara’s hand reached toward Lena involuntarily; quickly though, Kara dropped it to the table, fearing that her touch would only make things worse. Kara realized slowly that Lena’s words should be frightening. All Kara could seem to feel was an ache for Lena’s pain.

And frustration—frustration that Andrea had interrupted whatever she was about to say. Kara didn’t know how to bring it up again. Lena still had her head in her hands.

Kara tried to speak in a normal voice. “And you have to leave now?”

“Yes.” Lena raised her face, it was serious for a moment, and then her mood shifted, and she smiled. “It’s probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology—I don’t think I could take any more.”

Kara blinked. Sam—her long caramel-brown hair framing her features, soft and sharp in all the right places—was suddenly standing behind Lena’s shoulder. Her frame was willowy, graceful even in absolute stillness. She wasn’t as pale as Lena; her skin had a slight olive tone despite her absolute paleness.

Lena greeted her without looking away from Kara. “Sam.”

“Lena,” she answered, her voice smooth and even, a higher timber than Lena’s own voice.

“Sam, Kara—Kara, Sam,” Lena introduced them, gesturing casually with her hand, a wry smile on her face.

“Hello, Kara.” Sam’s brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but her smile was friendly. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Lena flashed a dark look at Sam.

“Hi, Sam,” Kara uttered shyly.

“Are you ready?” She asked Lena.

Lena’s voice was aloof. “Nearly. I’ll meet you at the car.” Sam left without another word; her walk was so fluid, so sinuous that Kara couldn’t possibly fathom how someone could move so gracefully.

“Should I say, ‘have fun,’ or is that the wrong sentiment?”  Kara asked teasingly, turning her attention back to Lena.

“No, ‘have fun’ works as well as anything.” Lena grinned.

“Have fun, then.” It was surprisingly wholehearted.

“I’ll try.” Lena was still grinning. “And you try to be safe, please.”

“What a challenge for me.”

“Promise?” Her eyebrow arched up.

“I promise to try to be safe. I’ll do the laundry tonight—that ought to be fraught with peril.”

“Don’t fall in,” Lena mocked.

“I’ll do my best.”

Lena stood then, and Kara rose too.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kara sighed.

“It seems like a long time to you, doesn’t it?” Lena mused and Kara nodded sadly.

“I’ll be there in the morning,” Lena promised, smirking. Lena reached across the table to touch Kara’s face, lightly brushing along her cheekbone again. Then Lena turned and walked away. Kara stared after her until she was gone.

Kara was tempted to ditch the rest of the day, at the very least Gym, but a warning instinct stopped her. She knew that if she disappeared now, Mike and his cohorts would assume she was with Lena. And Lena was worried about the time they’d spent together publicly… if things went wrong. Kara refused to dwell on the last thought, concentrating instead on making things safer for Lena.

Kara intuitively knew—and sensed Lena did, too—that tomorrow would be pivotal. Their relationship couldn’t continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. They would fall off one edge or the other, depending entirely upon Lena’s decision, or her instincts. Kara’s decision was made, made before she’d ever consciously chosen, and she was committed to seeing it through. There didn’t seem to be anything more terrifying to Kara right now, nothing more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from Lena. It was an impossibility.

Kara went to class, feeling dutiful. She couldn’t honestly say what happened in Biology; her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Mike was unfortunately speaking to her again; he wished Kara a good time in Seattle. Kara carefully explained that she’d canceled her trip, worried about her truck.

“Are you going to the dance with Luthor?” he asked, suddenly sulky.

“No, I’m not going to the dance at all.”

“What are you doing, then?” he asked, too interested. Kara’s natural urge was to tell him to butt out. Instead, she lied brightly.

“Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I’m going to fail.” She lied easily, fluidly, wondering when it had become to easy.

“Is Luthor helping you study?”

“Lena,” she emphasized, “is not going to help me study. She’s gone away somewhere for the weekend.” The lies came so naturally, and she briefly wondered if this knew found ability was because of Lena or for Lena.

“Oh,” Mike perked up. “You know, you could come to the dance with our group anyway—that would be cool. We’d all dance with you.” He promised.

The mental image of Imra’s face made her tone sharper than necessary. “I’m not going to the dance, Mike, okay?”

“Fine.” He sulked again. “I was just offering.”

When the school day finally ended, Kara walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm. She doubted Lena could have retrieved her truck, let alone driven it without red lining it. Then again, Kara was starting to believe nothing was impossible for Lena. Her instinct proved correct—her truck sat in the same space Lena had parked her Volvo in this morning. Kara shook her head, incredulous, as she opened the unlocked door and saw the key in the ignition.

There was a piece of white paper folded on her seat. Kara grabbed the paper, got in, and closed the door before she unfolded it. Two words were written in Lena’s elegant script.

Be safe.

The sound of the truck roaring to life over stimulated Kara instantly and she had to fight incessantly to rear in her sense of hearing. With a few deep breaths, her hold on the steering wheel lessened as the noise became more manageable. When Kara got home, the handle of the door was locked, the dead bolt unlocked, just as she’d left it this morning. Inside, she went straight to the laundry room. It looked just the same as she’d left it, too. She dug for her jeans and, after finding them, checked the pockets. Empty. She shook her head, smiling unbiddenly as she wondered how Lena pulled that one off.

Then she called Winn—he was the only one Kara thought she could trust since he already knew, and nothing seemed to be circulating the school. Winn was ecstatic to hear Kara was spending the day with Lena. She answered all the basic questions surrounding myths, leaving out the part where Lena could read minds. Then they briefly discussed Kara’s power set. She was surprised that she didn’t have to reassure Winn that she was fine—he seemed to trust Lena to do no harm despite her vampire status. She said goodbye shortly after that, and dinner was a quiet affair. Eliza, uncharacteristically, seemed absentminded at dinner. Kara assumed she was worried over something at work, perhaps a patient or something of another.

“You know, Eliza…” she began, breaking into her reverie.

“What’s that, Kar?”

“I think you’re right about Seattle. I think I’ll wait until Winn or someone else can go with me.”

“Oh,” she said surprised, lowering her fork. “Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home sweetheart?”

“No, Eliza, don’t change your plans. It’s alright and I’ve got a million things to do… homework, laundry… I need to go to the library and the grocery store. I’ll be in and out all day… you go and have fun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, Eliza, besides our food stock is dangerously dwindling thanks to my appetite.”

Eliza laughed but Kara was feeling guilty for deceiving Eliza, so guilty that she almost took Lena’s advice and told Eliza where she would be. Almost.

After dinner, Kara folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately, it was the kind of job that only kept her hands busy. Her mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control.

She fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly painful, and an insidious fear that picked at Kara’s resolve. She wasn’t afraid of Lena, but she was afraid of losing Lena despite not knowing her for long. She had to keep reminding herself that she’d made a choice, and she wasn’t going back on it. Kara pulled Lena’s note out of her pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words she’d written. She wants Kara to be safe, she told herself again and again. Despite being invulnerable, Lena still wanted her to be safe. Kara would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was Kara’s other choice—to cut her out of her life? Intolerable. Besides, since she’d come to Forks, it really seemed like her life was about Lena.

Kara was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. She air dried her hair, letting it fall into its natural curls, and fussed over what outfit she would wear. She knew she was far too stressed to sleep so she tried entering a deep meditative sleep reciting Kryptonian prayers to ease her mind and body. Eventually, she gladly sank into unconsciousness.

She was up early, having slept soundly and thankfully dreamlessly. Though she was well rested, Kara slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before. She dressed in a rush, fidgeting with her tan sweater. She sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Eliza was already gone. A thin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the sky. They didn’t look very lasting.

She ate breakfast quickly, hurrying to clean up when she was done. Kara peeked out the window again, but nothing had changed. She had just finished brushing her teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent her heart thudding against her rib cage.

She flew to the door—literally. She nearly broke the deadbolt in her haste, but she managed to yank the door open without any damages. There Lena was. All the agitation dissolved as soon as Kara looked at her face, calm taking its place. Kara breathed a sigh of relief—yesterday’s fears seemed very foolish with her here.

Lena wasn’t smiling at first—her face was somber. But then her expression lightened as she looked Kara over, and she laughed.

“Good morning,” she guffawed.

“What’s wrong?” Kara glanced down to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything important, like shoes, or pants.

“We match.” Lena laughed again. Kara realized Lena had a long, light tan sweater on, with a white-collar showing underneath, and blue jeans. Kara laughed with her, wondering how Lena always managed to look like a runway model.

Kara locked the door behind her while Lena walked to the truck. She waited by the passenger door with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.

“We made a deal,” Kara reminded Lena smugly, climbing into the driver’s seat, and reaching over to unlock Lena’s door.

“Where to?” she asked.

“Put your seat belt on—I’m nervous already.”

Kara gave her a dirty look as she complied.

“Where to?” she repeated with a sigh.

“Take the one-oh-one north,” Lena ordered.

It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling Lena’s gaze on her face. She compensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still sleeping town.

“Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?”

“The truck is old enough to be your car’s grandfather—have some respect,” Kara retorted in good nature.

They were soon out of the town limits, despite Lena’s negativity. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses.

“Turn right on the one-ten,” she instructed just as Kara was about to ask. She obeyed silently.

“Now we drive until the pavement ends.”

Kara could hear the smile in Lena’s voice, but she was too afraid of driving off the road and proving Lena right to look over and be sure.

“And what’s there, at the pavement’s end?” Kara wondered.

“A trail.”

“We’re hiking?” Kara was suddenly feeling glad to have worn sneakers.

“Is that a problem?” Lena’s tone was teasing.

“No,” Kara laughed, she wanted to give Lena a run for her money since they’d be alone. She could use her powers any way she wanted.

“It’s only five miles or so, so we’re in no hurry.” Five miles. She could run that in less than half a second. They drove in silence for a while as Kara contemplated their day.

“What are you thinking?” Lena asked, almost impatiently, after a few moments.

“Just wondering where we’re going.”

“It’s a place I like to go when the weather is nice.” They both glanced out the window at the thinning clouds as Lena spoke.

“Eliza said it would be warm today.”

“And did you tell Eliza what you were up to?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“But Nia thinks we’re going to Seattle together?” She seemed cheered by the idea.

“No, I told her you canceled on me—which is true.”

“No one know you’re with me?” Angrily, now.

“That depends… I assume you told Sam?”

“That’s very helpful, Kara,” she snapped.

Kara sighed. “I told Winn. But I’m sure you read his thoughts—he knows. About us both. Winn trusts you.”

Lena hummed but she still was on a warpath. “Are you so depressed by Forks that it’s made you suicidal?”

“You said it might cause trouble for you… us being together publicly,” Kara said softly, focusing on the road.

“So, you’re worried about the trouble it might cause me—if you don’t come home?” Lena’s voice was still angry, and bitingly sarcastic. Kara nodded, keeping her eyes on the road and wondering when Lena was going to get it through her thick skull that she couldn’t hurt Kara.

Lena muttered something under her breath that Kara chose to ignore.

Apparently, the answer was never. Her skull was far too thick for that.

They were silent for the rest of the drive. Kara could feel Lena’s waves of infuriated disapproval rolling off of her, and Kara could think of nothing to say.

Then the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small wooden marker. Kara parked on the narrow shoulder and stepped out, averting her gaze from Lena—she was angry, and Kara no longer had the excuse of driving to not look at her. It was warm now, warmer than it had been in Forks since the day she arrived. Kara could feel the sun’s energy, even though she couldn’t truly feel the meager warmth of the day. Kara pulled off her sweater and knotted it around her waist, glad to be rid of it as she felt the breeze wash over her arms—she was thankful to have the foresight of wearing a light t-shirt for this reason alone. She heard Lena’s door slam and looked over to see that she had removed her sweater too. She was facing away from Kara, into the unbroken forest beside the truck and staying rooted in the shade.

“This way,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Kara, eyes still annoyed. She started into the dark forest.

“The trail?” Kara asked curiously as she caught up with Lena.

“I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it.”

“No trail?” Lena must have thought Kara’s tone was desperate.

“I won’t let you get lost.” She turned then, with a mocking smile, and Kara stifled a gasp. Lena’s white shirt was sleeveless, and she wore it unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of her throat flowed uninterrupted over the marble contours of her breast, the only barrier being a black lacy bra; Lena’s perfect musculature and curves were no longer merely hinted at behind concealing clothes. Lena was too perfect, Kara realized with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this godlike creature could be meant for her.

Lena stared at Kara, bewildered by her tortured expression. “Do you want to go home?” she said quietly, a different pain than Kara’s saturating her voice.

“No.” Kara walked forward till she was close beside Lena, anxious not to waste one second of whatever time she might have with Lena.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was gentle, almost a caress.

“I’ve never hiked before,” Kara answered dully, trying to quell the unusual smirk that threatened to arise. “You’ll have to be very patient.”

Her brow arched up. “I can be patient—if I make a great effort.” Lena smiled, holding Kara’s gaze, trying to lift her out of her sudden, unexplained dejection. Kara tried to smile back, but with fighting off the smirk, it turned into something more akin to a grimace. Lena scrutinized her face.

“I’ll take you home.” She promised. Kara couldn’t tell if the promise was unconditional or restricted to an immediate departure. Kara knew Lena thought it was fear on her face, and Kara was grateful again that she was the one person whose mind Lena couldn’t hear.

“Well, if you want to hike through the jungle, we better get to it.” Lena frowned, struggling to understand Kara’s tone and expression.

Lena gave up after a moment and led the way into the forest. The way was mostly flat, and Lena held the damp ferns and webs of moss aside for Kara. When Lena’s straight path took them over fallen trees or boulders, Lena would reach for her hand to help, only to take on a strange expression when Kara gracefully floated over them. But Lena’s cool touch on her skin never failed to make Kara’s heart thud erratically. Twice when Lena had reached out, Kara caught the look on Lena’s face that made Kara sure that Lena could somehow hear her thoughts.

Kara tried to keep her eyes away from Lena’s perfection as much as possible, but she slipped often. Each time, Lena’s beauty pierced through Kara with sadness. For the most part, they walked in silence. Occasionally, Lena would ask a random question that she hadn’t gotten to in the past two days of interrogation. She asked about birthdays—Kara had to explain she didn’t truly know her birthday because of the differences between the Krypton and Earth calendars, and that they celebrated her Earth Birthday instead. Lena asked about her teachers on Krypton, her childhood pets. Kara talked about the stray cat Streaky that helped her learn restraint and control, and about how she had no luck with fish and had accidentally killed three over the years. Lena laughed at that, louder than Kara was used to—bell-like echoes bouncing back to them from the empty woods.

The hike took them a good chunk of the morning—Lena never showed signs of impatience as Kara moved with leisure and wonder through the landscape. The forest spread out around them in a boundless labyrinth of ancient trees that left them both feeling perfectly at ease, neither of them feeling lost in the slightest despite the consuming forest around them.

After a couple hours, the light that filtered through the canopy transformed, the murky olive tone shifting to a brighter jade. The day had turned sunny, just as she’d foretold. Kara felt a thrill of excitement—which quickly turned to impatience. Lena seemed too content at moving at a human pace and Kara desperately wanted to use a burst of superspeed now.

“Are we there yet?” Kara teased, pretending to scowl.

“Nearly.” Lena smiled at the change in Kara’s mood. “Do you see the brightness ahead?”

Kara peered into the thick forest. She sighed and removed her glasses. She blinked rapidly as her vision sharpened into hyper focus. Kara could see lightning in the trees ahead, a glow that was yellow instead of green. Kara picked up the pace, her eagerness growing with every step. Lena let Kara lead now, following noiselessly behind.

She reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place she had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled with wildflowers—violet, yellow, and soft white. Somewhere nearby, Kara could hear the bubbling music of a stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. Kara walked slowly, awestruck, through the soft grass, swaying flowers, and warm gilded air. Her cells felt irradiated. Kara halfway turned, wanting to share this with Lena, but Lena wasn’t behind her where she’d thought she’d be. Kara spun around, searching for Lena with sudden alarm. It was hard to locate someone who had no heartbeat, didn’t seem to breathe, and could stay as still as a statue. When she finally heard the sound of the wind being misdirected around something, she spotted Lena still under the dense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow. Lena was watching Kara with cautious eyes. Only then did Kara remember what the beauty of the meadow had driven from her mind—the enigma of Lena and the sun, which she’d promised to illustrate for Kara today.

Kara took a step toward her, her eyes alight with curiosity. Lena’s eyes were wary, reluctant. Kara smiled encouragingly and beckoned to Lena with her hand, taking another step back to Lena. She held up a hand in warning, and Kara hesitated, rocking back onto her heels.

Lena seemed to take a deep breath, and then she stepped out into the bight flow of the midday sun.

Chapter Text

“Art is always and everywhere the secret confession, and at the same time the immortal movement of its time.”

― Karl Marx

Lena in the sunlight was shocking. Kara couldn’t get used to it, though she’d been staring at Lena all afternoon. Her skin, white despite the faint flush from yesterday’s hunting trip, literally sparkled, like thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded in the surface. Lena lay perfectly still in the grass, her shirt open over her sculpted, incandescent chest, her scintillating arms bare. Her glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course she didn’t sleep. A perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal. Now and then, Lena’s lips would move, so fast that to the untrained eye, it looked like they were trembling. She was singing, low and soft and quick. Kara didn’t recognize the song and Lena didn’t respond when she had asked.

Kara enjoyed the sun too, as if she could feel its very essence coursing through her veins. She would have liked to lie back, as Lena did, and let the sun warm her face. But Kara stayed curled up, her chin resting on her knees, unwilling to take her eyes off Lena. The wind was gentle; it tangled in Kara’s hair and ruffled the grass that swayed around Lena’s motionless form.

The meadow, so spectacular to Kara at first, paled next to Lena’s magnificence. Hesitantly, always afraid, even now, that she would disappear like a mirage, too beautiful to be real… hesitantly, Kara reached out one finger and stroked the back of Lena’s shimmering hand, where it lay within reach. Kara marveled again at the perfect texture, satin smooth, cool as stone. When Kara looked up again, Lena’s eyes were open, watching her. Butterscotch today, lighter, warmer after hunting. Lena’s quick smile turned up the corners of her flawless lips.

“I don’t scare you?” she asked playfully, but Kara could hear the real curiosity in her soft voice.

“Never.”

Lena smiled wider; her teeth flashed in the sun.

Kara inched closer, stretching out her whole hand now to trace the contours of Lena’s forearm with her fingertips. Kara saw that her fingers trembled, and she knew it wouldn’t escape Lena’s notice.

“Do you mind?” Kara asked, for Lena had closed her eyes again.

“No,” she said without opening her eyes “You can’t imagine how that feels.” Lena sighed.

Kara lightly trailed her hand over the perfect lithe muscle of her arm, followed the faint pattern of bluish veins inside the crease of her elbow. With her other hand, Kara reached to turn her hand over. Realizing what Kara wished, Lena flipped her palm up in one of those blindingly fast, disconcerting movements of hers. It startled Kara; her fingers froze on Lena’s arms for a brief second.

“Sorry,” she muttered. Kara looked up in time to see her golden eyes close again. “it’s too easy to be myself with you.”

Kara shook her head slowly, her words coming out soft. “No, it’s not—I’m not used to someone being able to move like I can.” She lifted Lena’s hand, turning it this way and that as she watched the sun glitter on Lena’s palm. Kara held it closer to her face, trying to see the hidden facets in her skin without using x-ray vision or microscopic vision, as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Lena whispered. Kara looked into Lena’s eyes watching her, suddenly intent. “It’s still so strange for me, not knowing.”

“I’m sure everyone on this planets feels that way all the time.”

“It’s a hard life.” Kara wondered if she imagined the hint of regret in her tone. “But you didn’t tell me.”

“I was wishing I could know what you were thinking…” Kara hesitated.

“And?”

“I was wishing that I could believe that you were real. And I was wishing that I wasn’t afraid.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid.” Lena’s voice was unbearably soft. Kara heard what Lena couldn’t truthfully say, that Kara didn’t need to be afraid, that there was nothing to fear.

“Well, that’s not exactly the fear I meant. I’m not afraid of what you are.”

In an instant, Lena was half sitting, propped up on her right arm, her left palm still in Kara’s hands. Lena’s angelic face was only a few inches from hers. Kara might have flinched from her unexpected closeness, but she was unable to move. Lena’s golden eyes mesmerized her as they shifted between colors.

“What are you afraid of, then?” she whispered intently. Kara couldn’t answer though. As she had once before, she smelled Lena’s cool breath against her face. Sweet, delicious, the scent made Kara’s mouth water. It was unlike anything else. Instinctively, unthinkingly, Kara leaned closer, inhaling.

Then Lena was gone, her hand ripped from Kara’s. Kara was on her feet in the next instance. Lena was twenty feet away, standing at the edge of the small meadow, in the deep shade of a huge fir tree. She stared at Kara, her eyes dark in the shadows, her expression unreadable.

She could feel the hurt on her face.

“I’m… sorry… Lena,” Kara whispered, knowing Lena could hear her.

“Give me a moment,” Lena whispered back, lower than Kara had but knowing she would hear it.

After ten incredibly long seconds, Lena walked back, slowly for her. She stopped, still several feet away, and sank gracefully to the ground, crossing her legs. Her eyes never left Kara’s. Lena took two deep breaths, and then smiled in apology.

Kara sat down slowly. “I am so very sorry.” Lena hesitated. “Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?”

Kara nodded once, not quite able to smile at Lena’s joke. She was worried about Lena. Lena seemed to know that, and her smile turned mocking.

“I’m the world’s best predator, aren’t I? Everything about me invites you in—my voice, my face, even my smell. As if I need any of that!” Suddenly, Lena was on her feet, bounding away, instantly out of sight, only to appear beneath the same tree as before, having circled the meadow in half a second.

“As if you could outrun me,” Lena laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and full of self-loathing. She reached up with one hand and, with a deafening crack, effortlessly ripped a two-foot-thick branch from the trunk of a spruce. Lena balanced it in one hand for a moment, and then threw it with blinding speed, shattering it against another huge tree, which shook and trembled with the blow.

She was in front of Kara again, standing two feet away, still as a stone.

“As if you could fight me off.” Lena said gently, almost defeatedly. She still couldn’t seem to truly believe Kara’s invulnerable state. Kara stood there without moving, staring at the thin line of Lena’s mouth. She’d never seen Lena so completely free of that carefully cultivated façade. She’d never been less human… or more beautiful.

Lena’s lovely eyes seemed to glow with rash excitement, then, as the seconds passed, they dimmed. Her expression slowly folded into a mask of ancient sadness.

Kara stood there, moving slowly, and knowing that Lena was tracking her every movement.  She turned her back to Lena and began walking to the edge of the meadow.

“Don’t be afraid,” it was almost broken in the way Lena whispered the words. Kara heard Lena take a step forward, but she didn’t turn to face her. Not until she had reached the edge. Lena was still in the center of the meadow, looking ashen.

Slowly, Kara placed a palm against a thick tree that seemed older than time itself in that very moment. She looked back at Lena, removing her glasses and taking in every minute detail around them. It was overwhelming for a moment, the intense details and sounds of everything around. And then she pushed. It looked effortless, but a resounding crack emanated from the tree as Kara pushed it over easily. Splinters flew about and the tree landed with a booming sound. It was a simple gesture, a simple display of unlimited power that brimmed beneath the surface; but it did the trick, throwing Lena off her self-loathing tirade.

Lena blinked a few times, staring at Kara like she was seeing her for the first time. In an instant, Kara was standing in front of Lena again, the breeze of her speed washing over them both as she gingerly placed her glasses back on. “I’m not afraid. I have no reason to be.”

Lena nodded; her eyebrows drawn together as she considered this, accepted this. “Are you alright?”

Kara laughed lightly, taking Lena’s cool hand in her own again and dragging them down to the ground.

She looked at Lena’s smooth, cold hand, and then at her eyes. They were soft, repentant, and a brilliant green this time around. Her gaze returned to Lena’s hand, and Kara deliberately returned to tracing the lines on Lena’s hand with her fingertip.

Kara looked up, her smile wide and genuine.

Lena’s answering smile was dazzling.

“So, where were we?” she asked in the gentle cadences of an earlier century.

“Fears.”

“Right. We were talking about why you were afraid?”

Kara hummed noncommittedly, toying with a piece of grass with her free hand.

“Well?” The seconds seemed to tick by, and Kara absently played with the grass and the lines of Lena’s palm.

“How easily frustrated I am,” Lena sighed. Kara looked into her eyes, abruptly grasping that this was every bit as new to Lena as it was to her. As many years of unfathomable experience as Lena had, this was hard for her, too. Kara took courage from that thought.

“I was afraid… because, for, well, what you said. We can’t, we can’t be seen publicly. I’m afraid that I’d like to stay with you, much more than I should.” Kara looked down at Lena’s hands as she spoke. It was difficult for her to say this aloud, to force the words through her teeth and not make a fool of herself.

“Yes.” Lena agreed slowly. “That is something to be afraid of, indeed. Wanting to be with me, the things that follow. That’s not really in your best interest.” Kara frowned. “I should have left long ago. I should leave now. But I don’t know if I can.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kara mumbled. “I didn’t travel thousands of lightyears just to outlive every person I’ll ever love.” Lena frowned at this information, seemingly sorrowful despite the hint of surprise in her eyes. It was another simple confession, another thing Lena accepted without pause.

“Don’t worry. I’m essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much.”

“I’m glad.”

An animalistic growl escaped from Lena’s throat. It was almost dizzying to keep up with Lena’s mood swings. Almost.

“It’s not only your company I crave! Even if you are—if you’re invulnerable—never forget that. If you weren’t—” Lena waved a hand toward Kara, “—I’d be more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else.” She stopped, and Kara looked to see her gazing unseeingly into the forest.

Kara thought for a moment.

“I don’t think I understand exactly what you mean—by that last part anyway.”

Lena looked back at Kara and smiled, her mood shifting yet again.

“How do I explain?” she mused. “And without sounding so… terrifying…” Without seeming to think about it, Lena placed her hand back into Kara’s; Kara held it tightly in both of hers, tighter than she would ever dare squeeze a human. Lena looked at their hands.

“That’s amazingly pleasant, the warmth.” Lena sighed and a moment passed as she assembled her thoughts.

“You know how everyone enjoys different flavors?” she began. “Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?” Kara nodded.

“Sorry about the food analogy—I couldn’t think of another way to explain.”

They smiled at one another ruefully.

“You see, every person smells different, has a different essence. If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, he’d gladly drink it. But he could resist, if he wished to, if he were a recovering alcoholic. Now, let’s say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac—and filled the room with its warm aroma—how do you think he would fare then?”

They sat silently, looking into each other’s eyes—trying to read each other’s thoughts.

Lena broke the silence first.

“Maybe that’s not the right comparison. Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroin addict instead.”

“So what you’re saying is, I’m your brand of heroin?” Kara teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Lena smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate Kara’s effort. “Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin.”

“Does that happen often?” Kara asked.

Lena looked across the treetops, thinking through her response.

“I spoke to my brothers about it.” She still stared into the distance. “To William, everyone one of you is much the same. He’s the most recent to join our family. It’s a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn’t had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor.” She glanced quickly at Kara, her expression apologetic.

“Sorry,”

“I don’t mind. Don’t worry about… I don’t know, offending me, or grossing me out or whatever. That’s just the way you think. I can understand that. Just explain however you can.”

Lena took a deep breath and gazed at the sky again.

“So, William wasn’t sure if he’d ever come across someone who was as”—she hesitated, looking for the right word— “appealing as you are to me. Which makes me think not. Jack has been on the wagon longer, so to speak, and he understood what I meant. He says twice, for him, one stronger than the other.”

“And for you?”

“Never.”

The word hung for a moment in the caress of the breeze.

“What did Jack do?” Kara asked to break the silence. It was the wrong question to ask. Lena’s face grew dark, her hands clenched into fist inside of Kara’s. It was tight enough for Kara to feel the pressure, even if it was a little dull. Lena looked away. Kara waited, but Lena wasn’t going to answer.

“I guess I know,” Kara finally sighed.

Lena lifted her eyes; her expression was wistful, pleading.

“Even the strongest of us fall off the wagon, don’t we?”

“What are you asking?” Kara’s tone was sharper than intended, and she tried to soften her next words. She knew what Lena’s honesty cost. “I mean, is there no hope, then? If—If I was human, I mean?”

“No, no!” Lena was instantly contrite. “Of course there’s hope! I mean, I would never…” She left the sentence hanging. Her eyes swirled with gold as they burned into Kara’s.

“It’s different for us. Jack… these were strangers he happened across. It was a long time ago, and he wasn’t as… practiced, as careful, as he is now.”

Lena fell silent and watched Kara intently as Kara thought it through.

“So... if I was human, and we’d met… oh, in a dark alley or something…” she trailed off.

“It took everything I had not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and—” Lena stopped, abruptly, looking away. “When you walked past me, I could have ruined everything Lionel has built for us, right then and there. If I hadn’t been denying my thirst for the last, well, too many years, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.” Lena paused, her lips twisting into a scowl.

She glanced at Kara grimly, both of them remembering. “You must have thought I was possessed.”

“I couldn’t understand why. How you could hate me so quickly…”

“To me, it was like you were some kind of demon, summoned straight from my own personal hell to ruin me. The fragrance coming off your skin… I thought it would make me deranged that first day. In that one hour, I thought of a hundred different ways to lure you from the room with me, to get you alone. And I fought them each back, thinking of my family, what I could do to them. I had to run out, to get away before I could speak the words that would make you follow…”

Lena looked up at Kara’s staggered expression as she attempted to absorb her bitter memories. It helped that Kara was able to process information quickly. Her golden eyes scorched from under her lashes, hypnotic and deadly.

“You would have come.” She promised.

Kara spoke calmly. “Without a doubt.”

A breathy laugh emanated from Lena. “I supposed it is nice to know I can’t so easily break you.”

Kara laughed as well, but then Lena frowned down at their joined hands.

“And then, as I tried to rearrange my schedule in a pointless attempt to avoid you, you were there—just outside the building. The scent was maddening. I so very nearly took you then. There was only one frail human there—so easily dealt with.”

Kara was seeing her own memories anew through Lena’s eyes, only now grasping the nature of Lena’s kind. Kara shivered at how close she’d come to being inadvertently responsible for Ms. Cope’s death.

“But I resisted. I don’t know how. I forced myself not to wait for you, not to follow you from the school. It was easier outside, when the breeze would blow in the opposite direction from me, and I could no longer smell you. I was able to think more clearly, to make the right decision. I left the others near home—I was too ashamed to tell them how weak I was, they only knew something was very wrong—and then I went straight to Lionel, at the hospital, to tell him I was leaving.” Kara stared in surprise.

“I traded cars with him—he had a full tank of gas, and I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t dare to go home, to face Lillian. She wouldn’t have let me go without a scene. She would have tried to convince me that it wasn’t necessary…

“By the next morning, I was in Alaska.” Lena sounded ashamed, as if admitting a great cowardice. “I spent two days there, with some old acquaintances… but I was homesick. I hated knowing I’d upset Lillian, and the rest of them, my adopted family. In the pure air of the mountains, it was hard to believe you were so irresistible. I convinced myself it was weak to run away. I’d dealt with temptation before, not of this magnitude, not even close, but I was strong. Who were you, an insignificant girl”—Lena grinned suddenly— “to chase me from the place I wanted to be? So, I came back…” Lena stared off into space. Kara couldn’t speak, couldn’t force words.

“I took precautions, hunting, feeding more than usual before seeing you again. I was sure that I was strong enough to treat you like any other human.” Lena’s eyes twinkled with the joke. “I was arrogant about it.

“It was unquestionably a complication that I couldn’t read your thoughts to know what your reaction was to me. I wasn’t used to having to go to such circuitous measures, listening to your words in Winn and Nia’s minds… and then I couldn’t know if you really meant what you said. It was all extremely irritating.” Lena frowned at the memory.

“I wanted you to forget my behavior that first day, if possible, so I tried to talk with you like I would with any person. I was eager, actually, hoping to decipher some of your thoughts. But you were too interesting, I found myself caught up in your expression… and every now and then you would stir the air with your hand or your hair, and the scent would stun me again…

“Of course, then you were—what I thought at the time—nearly crushed to death in front of my eyes. Later I thought of a perfectly good excuse for why I acted at that moment—because if I hadn’t ‘saved’ you, if your blood had been spilled there in front of me, I don’t think I could have stopped myself from exposing us for what we are. But I only thought of that excuse later. At the time, all I could think was, ‘Not her.’”

Lena closed her eyes, lost in her agonized confession. Kara listened more eagerly than rationally. Common sense told her that she should be appalled. Instead, she was relieved to finally understand. Kara was filled with compassion for Lena’s suffering, even now, as Lena confessed her craving to take her life. Kara was finally able to speak, though her voice was faint.

“In the hospital?” Her eyes flashed up to Kara’s.

“I was appalled. I couldn’t believe I had put us in danger after all, put myself in your power—you of all people. As if I needed another motive to kill you.” Lena visibly flinched, but not a muscle in Kara’s body reacted. “But it had the opposite effect.” She continued quickly. “I fought with Andrea, Jack, and William when they suggested that now was the time… the worst fight we’ve ever had. Lionel sided with me, and Sam.” She grimaced when she said her name. Kara couldn’t imagine why. “Lillian told me to do whatever I had to in order to stay.” She shook her head indulgently.

“All that next day I eavesdropped on the minds of everyone you spoke to, shocked that you kept your word. I didn’t understand you at all. But I knew that I couldn’t become more involved with you. I did my very best to stay as far from you as possible. And every day the perfume of your skin, your breath, your hair… it hit me as hard as the very first day.” She met Kara’s eyes again, and they were surprisingly tender and vibrantly green.

“And for all that,” she continued, “I’d have fared better if I had exposed us all at that first moment, then if now, here—with no witnesses and nothing to stop me—if I were to hurt you.”

Kara, despite being an alien, was still human enough to ask. “Why?”

“Kara.” Lena pronounced her name carefully, then playfully ruffled Kara’s hair with her free hand. A shock ran through Kara’s body at the casual touch. “Kara, even if I could hurt you, I couldn’t live with myself if I ever did. You don’t know how it’s tortured me.” Lena looked down, ashamed again. “The thought of you, still, white, cold… to never see you blush scarlet again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses… it would be unendurable.” Lena lifted her glorious, agonized eyes to Kara’s. “You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever.”

Kara’s head was spinning at the rapid change in the direction their conversation had taken. From the cheerful topic of Kara’s potential demise, they were suddenly declaring themselves. Lena waited, and even though Kara looked down to study their hands between them, she knew Lena’s multicolored eyes were on her.

“You already know how I feel, of course,” Kara finally said. “I’m here… which roughly translated, means I would rather die than stay away from you.” Kara frowned. “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not human. I’d probably be an idiot.”

“You are an idiot,” Lena laughed without malice. Their eyes met, and Kara laughed too. They laughed together at the idiocy and sheer impossibility of such a moment.

“And so, the Luthor fell in love with the Super…” Kara blushed at the sudden nickname and hid her eyes as she thrilled to the specific verbiage.

“What a stupid Super,” she sighed.

“What a sick, masochistic Luthor.” Lena stared into the shadowy forest for a long moment, and Kara wondered where her thoughts had taken her.

“Why...?” Kara began, and then paused, not sure how to continue. Lena looked at her, and smiled; sunlight glinted off her face, her teeth.

“Yes?”

“Tell me why you ran from me before.”

Lena’s smile faded. “You know why.”

“No, I mean, exactly what did I do wrong? I don’t want you to suffer more, so I better start learning what I shouldn’t do. This, for example”—Kara stroked the back of Lena’s hand—” seems to be all right.” Lena smiled again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Kara. It was my fault.”

“But I want to help, if I can, to not make this harder for you.”

“Well…” Lena contemplated for a moment. “It was just how close you were. Most humans instinctively shy away from us, are repelled by our alienness…” Lena smirked, “I wasn’t expecting you to come so close. And the smell of your throat.” She stopped short, looking to see if she’d upset Kara.

“Okay, then,” Kara said flippantly, trying to alleviate the suddenly tense atmosphere. She tucked her chin. “No throat exposure.” It worked; Lena laughed.

“No, really, it was more the surprise than anything else.”

Lena raised her free hand and placed it gently on the side of Kara’s neck. She sat very still, the chill of Lena’s touch a natural warning—a warning that would tell anyone to be terrified. But there was no feeling of fear in Kara. There were, however, other feelings…

“You see,” Lena said. “Perfectly fine.” Kara’s blood was racing, and she wished she could focus enough to slow it, sensing that this must make everything much more difficult—the thudding of her pulse in her veins. She knew Lena could hear it.

“The blush on your cheeks is lovely.”  Lena declared softly. She gently freed her other hand, and Kara’s hands fell limply into her lap. Gently, Lena brushed her cheek, then held Kara’s face between her two marble hands.

“Be very still,” she whispered, as if Kara wasn’t already frozen. Slowly, never moving her eyes from Kara’s, Lena leaned toward her. Then abruptly, but very lightly, Lena rested her cold cheek against the hollow at the base of Kara’s throat. Kara was quite unable to move, even if she’d wanted to. She listened to the sound of Lena’s even breathing, watching the sun and wind play in her raven hair, more human than any other part of her.

With deliberate slowness, Lena’s hands slid down the sides of her neck. Kara shivered—not at the cool feeling of Lena’s skin, but the intimacy of it—and she heard Lena’s breath catch in her throat. Her hands, however, did not pause as they softly moved to Kara’s shoulders, and then stopped.

Lena’s face drifted to the side, her nose skimming across Kara’s collarbone. She came to rest with the side of her face pressed tenderly against Kara’s chest. Listening to her heartbeat.

Lena sighed with contentment.

Kara didn’t know how long they sat without moving. It could have been hours. Eventually the throb of her pulse quieted, but Lena didn’t move or speak again as she held Kara. She knew that at any moment, it could be too much, and Lena would lose control. She knew that it would be normal to be afraid, but Kara didn’t know a thing about being normal. She couldn’t think of anything, except that Lena was touching her.

And then, too soon, she released Kara.

Lena’s eyes were peaceful.

“It won’t be so hard again,” Lena said with satisfaction.

“Was that—was it very hard for you?”

“Not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be. And you?”

“No, it wasn’t bad… for me.”

Lena smiled at the blush on Kara’s face.

“Here.” Lena took Kara’s hand and placed it against her cheek. “Do you feel how warm it is?”

Kara couldn’t really tell. The cool chill was gone, but it felt the same temperature as her. Neither warm nor cold. Kara though, it was hard for her to even notice that, for she was touching Lena’s face, something she’d dreamt of constantly since the first day she’d seen her.

“Don’t move,” Kara whispered.

No one could be still like Lena. She closed her eyes and became as immobile as stone, a carving under Kara’s hand.

Kara moved even more slowly than Lena had, careful not to make one unexpected move. She caressed Lena’s cheek, delicately stroked her eyelid, the purple shadow in the hollow under her eyes. She traced the shape of her perfect nose, and then, so carefully, her flawless lips. Her lips parted under Kara’s touch, and she could feel Lena’s cool breath on her fingertips. Kara wanted to lean in, to succumb to the scent of Lena, the taste of her lips. But Kara dropped her hand and leaned away, not wanting to push Lena too far.

She opened her eyes, and they were hungry. Not in a way that would ever strike fear into Kara, but rather to tighten the muscles in the pit of her stomach and send her pulse hammering through her veins again.

“I wish,” Lena whispered, “I wish you could feel the… complexity… the confusion… I feel. That you could understand.”

Lena raised her hand to Kara’s hair, then carefully brushed her hand across Kara’s face.

“Tell me,” Kara breathed, working hard not to pulverize the ground beneath her in the innate urge to push from the ground and fly.

“I don’t think I can. I’ve told you, on the one hand, the hunger—the thirst—that, deplorable creature that I am, I feel for you. And I think you can understand that, to an extent. Though”—Lena half smiled— “As you are not addicted to any illegal substances, you probably can’t empathize completely.

“But…” Lena’s fingers touched Kara’s lips lightly, making a shiver race down Kara’s spine. “There are other hungers. Hungers I haven’t felt in so long, that it’s almost foreign to me.”

“I may understand that better than you think.”

“I’m not used to feeling human. Is it always like this?”

Kara couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re asking me, an alien, if this is what it’s like for humans?” Lena ducked her head, and Kara was sure that if there was blood in her veins, then she would have been blushing.

Lena moved to speak but Kara just smiled and waved it away. “I can’t speak for feeling human… but for me? No, never. Never before this.” Lena’s hands found Kara’s again, and then gripped one another with iron strength.

“I don’t know how to be close to you,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I can.”

Kara leaned forward slowly, cautioning Lena with her eyes. She placed her cheek against Lena’s stone chest before adding more pressure—until Lena no longer felt like stone but rather flesh. She could hear Lena’s breathing and nothing else. She had a feeling Lena didn’t always breathe, or rather, she knew Lena didn’t always breathe.

“This is enough,” Kara sighed, closing her eyes.

In a very human gesture, Lena put her arms around Kara and pressed her face against Kara’s hair.

“You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for,” Kara noted.

“I have human instincts—they may be buried deep, but they’re there.” Lena let out a laugh, her hold on Kara tightening. “It helps, knowing you’re not so fragile, not so easily breakable.” They sat like that for another immeasurable moment; Kara wondered if Lena was as unwilling to move as she was. But Kara could see the light was fading, the shadows of the forest beginning to touch them, and Kara sighed.

“You have to go.”

“I thought you couldn’t read my mind.”

“It’s getting clearer.” She could hear the smile in Lena’s voice. Kara suddenly had an idea.

“Can we race?”

Lena’s eyebrows shot up. “Race?”

“Yes—only if you don’t turn into a bat.” Lena’s mouth twitched up into a crooked smile, so beautiful Kara’s heart nearly stopped.

“Like I haven’t heard that one before!” she laughed.

“Right, I’m sure you get that all the time.” Lena just tsked as they climbed to their feet. “Are you sure?”

“I promise you I’m faster than you.” Lena took it as a challenge and was suddenly gone.

Kara took off. Kara was faster, but Lena was something else entirely. Lena streaked through the dark, thick underbrush of the forest like a bullet, like a ghost. There was no sound, no evidence that her feet touched the earth. Kara did not have the same nuance, wasn’t nearly as silent, and the speed at which she ran meant the wind was forceful and noisy.

Then it was over. They’d hiked for hours this morning to reach Lena’s meadow, and now, in a matter of seconds, Kara was back at the truck—Lena arrived a few seconds later, looking impressed.

“You were holding out on me earlier— taking such a long time to get there.” Lena tsked again, an eyebrow raising and falling in appraisal.

“Maybe I was letting you have your fun since you still didn’t seem to believe me.” She responded teasingly, and Lena let out a soft laugh as she shook her head.

“How do you feel?” Was Lena’s simple question, but Kara caught the double meaning. How do you feel now that you’ve truly seen what I am?

“I told you. It doesn’t change anything for me. It’s also somewhat of… of a relief— knowing I’m not the only one who’s going to outlive the planet.”

“I was thinking while running— “

“Hopefully about not hitting the trees.” Kara teased, and Lena rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be silly Kara, running is second nature for me, it’s not something I have to think about.” That summed up how Kara felt about flying. It was as easy as breathing for her.

“I prefer flying,” Lena’s eyes narrowed. Swirls of gold were starting to invade the verdant green of her eyes.

“I was thinking there was something I wanted to try.” And she took Kara’s face in her hands, slowly and gently.

Kara couldn’t breathe.

Lena hesitated— not in the normal way, the human way.

Not in the way a person might hesitate before they kissed someone, to gauge that person’s reaction, to see how they’d be perceived. Perhaps, that person would hesitate to prolong the moment, that ideal moment of anticipation, sometimes better than the kiss itself.

Lena hesitated to test herself, to see if she could handle it, to make sure if she was still in control of her primal urges.

And then, her cold, marble lips, pressed gently against Kara’s.

Kara’s blood felt like it was boiling her alive, it burned into her lips. Her fingers knotted into the base of Lena’s raven hair, trying to pull her impossibly closer. She was tempted to deepen the kiss, to give into the thoughts that had plagued her, but before she could, the ghost of her breath, her heady sent, against Kara’s lips was gone almost as fast as it appeared. Lena had turned into unresponsive stone under Kara’s steel grip. Lena’s hands, gently but with enough force to move a Kryptonian, pushed Kara’s face back. Lena’s expression was guarded.

“Oops?” Kara exhaled, pushing her glasses up.

“That’s an understatement.”

Lena’s eyes were wild, her jaw clenched in acute restraint, yet she didn’t lapse from her perfect articulation. She held Kara’s face just inches from her own. Glints of sunlight shimmered and refracted across Lena’s alabaster skin as a cloud made its journey past the sun.

“Should I…?” Kara began to disentangle herself, to give Lena some room.

Lena’s hands refused to let Kara move an inch.

“No, it’s tolerable. Wait a moment, please.” Lena’s voice was polite, controlled.

Kara kept her eyes on Lena’s, watching as the excitement in them faded and gentled.

“There,” Lena said, obviously pleased with herself.

“Tolerable?” she questioned.

Lena let out of a breathy laugh. “I’m stronger than I thought. It’s nice to know.”

“I wish I could say the same. I’m sorry.”

“You’re only hu—” Lena’s jaw snapped shut and Kara couldn’t help but laugh.

“Still getting used to the fact I’m not human?” Kara asked, trying to blink away the dazed effect of kissing Lena Luthor.

Lena just rolled her eyes. How lighthearted, how human Lena seemed as she laughed now, her seraphic face untroubled. She was a different Lena than the one Kara had known. And Kara felt all the more besotted by her.

“You should let me drive.”

“Are you crazy?” Kara protested.

“I can drive better than you on your best day,” Lena teased.

“I’m sure that’s true, but I don’t think my truck could take it.”

“Some trust, please, Kara.”

Kara’s hand was in her pocket, curled tightly around the key. Her brow furrowed, deliberated, then she shook her head with a grin. “Nope. Not a chance.”

Lena’s perfect eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Kara started to step around her, heading to the driver’s side. Kara, as uncoordinated as she was, tripped over a rock. Lena had a different idea—her arm darted out, creating an inescapable snare around her waist. Well, inescapable for a human.

“Kara, I’ve already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive.” Lena teased, bypassing Kara’s glare. “I’m not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can’t even walk straight, and I have better reflexes. Besides, friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” Lena joked with a laugh.

“Drunk?” Kara asked, confused, as her head tilted to the side.

“You’re intoxicated by my very presence.” Lena was grinning, her smirk playful.

“You might be confusing me with being human. I can’t get drunk on this planet.”

Lena shook her head with mirth, her eyes intense. Kara decided that Lena’s eyes might just be the death of her. She would give Lena anything. Wordlessly, with a deep blush creeping up her face, she held the key high and dropped it, watching as Lena’s hand flashed like lightning to catch it soundlessly. “T-take it easy—my truck is a senior citizen.”

“Very sensible,” Lena approved.

“And are you not affected at all?” Kara asked, a crinkle between her brows. “By my presence?” Again, Lena’s neutral mask transformed, her expression became soft, warm. Lena didn’t answer at first; she simply bent her face to Kara’s and brushed her nose slowly along Kara’s jaw, from her ear to her chin. Kara fought hard to keep her trembling breath at bay, trying to keep her heartbeat steady and not the frantic beat it tried to adopt.

“Regardless,” Lena finally whispered, “I have better reflexes.”

Chapter Text

“Magic: it was what happened when the mind met the world, and the mind won for a change.”

― Lev Grossman

Lena could drive well, when she kept the speed reasonable, Kara had to admit. Like so many things, it seemed to be effortless to Lena. She barely looked at the road, yet the tires never deviated so much as a centimeter from the center of the lane. Lena drove one handed, holding Kara’s hand on the seat. Sometimes, she gazed into the setting sun, sometimes she glanced at Kara—at her face, her hair blowing out the open window, their hands twined together. She had turned the radio to an oldies station, and she sang along with a song Kara had never heard. Lena knew every line.

“You like fifties music?” Kara asked.

“Music in the fifties was good. Much better than the sixties, or the seventies,” Lena gave a false shudder. “The eighties were descent.”

“Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?” Kara questioned, tentatively, not wanting to upset Lena’s buoyant humor.

“Do it matter much?” Lena’s smile, to Kara’s relief, remained unclouded.

“No, but I still wonder…” she grimaced. “There’s nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night.”

“I wonder if it will upset you,” Lena reflected to herself. She gazed into the sun; the minutes passed.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m technically forty-one.” Lena’s head turned sharply to Kara, an incredulous look on her face for a moment before her head turned back to the road. “Phantom Zone.”

Lena sighed, seeming to find Kara’s words encouraging. She looked into the sun—the light of the setting star glittered off Lena’s skin in ruby-tinged sparkles—and spoke.

“I was born in Dublin in 1830.” Lena paused and glanced at Kara from the corner of her eyes. Kara’s face was carefully unsurprised, patient for the rest. Lena had a small smile and continued. “Lionel found me in a hospital in the summer of 1847. I was seventeen, malnourished and dying of Cholera—this was during the Potato Famine.”

She heard Kara’s intake of breath. Lena is one hundred and seventy-five. She looked up into Kara’s eyes again.

“I don’t remember it well—it was a very long time ago, and human memories fade.” Lena was lost in her thoughts for a short time before she went on. “I do remember how it felt, when Lionel saved me. It’s not an easy thing, not something you could forget.”

“Your parents?”

“I don’t know anything about my father, but my mother had already died—she drowned. I was alone. That’s why he chose me. In all the chaos of the famine, no one would ever realize I was gone.”

“How did he… save you?”

A few seconds passed before Lena answered. She seemed to choose her words carefully.

“It was difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. But Lionel has always been the most human, the most compassionate of us… I don’t think you could find his equal throughout all of history.” She paused. “For me, it was merely very, very painful.” Kara could tell from the set of Lena’s lips, she would say no more on this subject. Kara suppressed her curiosity even though it was far from idle. There were several things Kara needed to think through regarding this particular issue, things that were only lurking in the back of her mind.

Lena’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. “He acted from loneliness. That’s usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Lionel’s family, though he found Lillian soon after. She fell from a cliff. They brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating.”

“So you must be dying, then, to become…” Kara couldn’t seem to frame the word now.

“No, that’s just Lionel. He would never do that to someone who had another choice.” The respect in her voice was profound whenever she spoke of her father figure. “It’s easier he says, though,” Lena continued, “if the blood is weak.” Lena looked at the now-dark road, and Kara could feel the subject closing again.

“And Sam and Andrea?”

“Lionel brought Andrea to our family next. I didn’t realize till much later that he was hoping she would be to me what Lillian was to him—he was careful with his thought around me.” Lena rolled her eyes. “But she was never more than a sister. Sam wouldn’t show up for a while, but two years later, Andrea found Jack. She was hunting—we were in Appalachia at the time—and found a bear about to finish him off. She carried him back to Lionel, more than a hundred miles, afraid she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. I’m only beginning to guess how difficult that journey was for her.” Lena threw a glance in Kara’s direction, and raised their hands, still folded together, to brush Kara’s cheek with the back of her hand.

“But she made it,” Kara encouraged, looking away from the unbearable beauty of Lena’s eyes.

“Yes,” she mumbled. “She saw something in his face that made her strong enough. For a long time, they were together, until Sam and William showed up. Sometimes they lived separately from us, as a married couple back then. But the younger we pretend to be, the longer we can stay in any given place. Forks seemed perfect, so we all enrolled in high school.”

“What happened with Andrea and Jack?”

“They weren’t together in love. They were together because they thought they should be. That changed with Sam and William.” She paused for another moment. “Sam and William are two very rare creatures. They both developed a conscience, as we refer to it, with no outside guidance. William belonged to another… family, a very different kind of family. Sam found him. Like me, she has certain gifts above and beyond the norm for our kind.”

“Really?” Kara interrupted, fascinated. “But you said you were the only one who could hear peoples’ thoughts.”

“That’s true. She knows other things. She sees things—things that might happen, things that are coming. But it’s very subjective. The future isn’t set in stone. Things change.”

“What kind of things does she see?”

“She saw Willaim and knew that he was looking for her before he knew it himself. She saw Lionel and our family, and they came together to find us. She’s most sensitive to non-humans. She always sees, for example, when another group of our kind is coming near. And any threat they may pose. Then Andrea and Sam, they bonded deeply, slowly after William found solitude in Jack. Sam and Andrea are as thick as thieves.”

“So Sam and Andrea are not together?”

“Hah, no. Everyone just thinks that because they’re so close. William and Jack are together though.”

“Are there a lot of… your kind?” Kara was surprised. How many of them could walk among humans undetected?

“No, not many. Most of us won’t settle in any one place. Only those like us, who’ve given up hunting humans”—a sly glance in Kara’s direction— “can live together for any length of time. We’ve only found one other family like ours, in a small village in Alaska. We lived together for a time, but there were so many of us that we became too noticeable. Those of us who live… differently tend to band together.”

“And the others?”

“Nomads, for the most part. We’ve all lived that way at times. It gets tedious, like anything else. But we run across the others now and then, because most of us prefer the North.”

“Why is that?”

They were parked in front of Kara’s house now, and Lena had turned off the truck. It was very quiet and dark; there was no moon. The porchlight was off, so Kara knew Eliza wasn’t home yet.

“Did you have your eyes open this afternoon?” Lena teased. “Do you think I could walk down the street in the sunlight without causing traffic accidents? There’s a reason why we chose the Olympic Peninsula, one of the most sunless places in the world. It’s nice to be able to go outside in the day. You wouldn’t believe how tired you can get of nighttime in eighty-odd years.”

Kara opted to not bring up the fact that she had been trapped in darkness for twenty-four years. “So that’s where the legends came from?”

“Probably.”

“And Sam came from another family, like William?”

“No, and that is a mystery. Sam doesn’t remember her human life at all. And she doesn’t know who created her. She awoke alone. Whoever made her walked away, and none of us understand why, or how, he could. If she hadn’t had that other sense, if she hadn’t seen William and Lionel and know that she would someday become one of us, she probably would have turned into a total savage and reigned down on the humans.”

There was so much to think through, so much Kara still wanted to ask. But, to Kara’s greatest embarrassment, her stomach growled. Kara had been so intrigued that for the first time since landing on this planet, she hadn’t noticed she was hungry. She realized now that she was ravenous.

“I’m sorry, I’m keeping you from dinner.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“I’ve never spent much time around anyone who eats food. I forget.”

Kara grimaced. “You might want to get used to that… I eat a lot more than any human.” She was silent for another moment. “I want to stay with you though.” It was easier to say in the darkness, knowing as she spoke how her voice would betray her, her hopeless addiction to Lena Luthor.

“Can’t I come in?” she asked.

“Would—Would you like to?” Kara couldn’t picture it, this godlike creature sitting in her shabby kitchen chair.

“Yes, if it’s alright.” Kara heard the door close quietly and almost simultaneously Lena was outside her door, opening it for her.

“Very human,” Kara complimented her.

“It’s definitely resurfacing.”

She walked beside Kara in the night, so quietly that if Kara couldn’t hear the disturbance in the air, she would doubt Lena was there at all. In the darkness, she looked much more normal. Still pale, still dreamlike in her beauty, but no longer the fantastic sparkling creature of their sunlit afternoon.

Lena reached the door ahead of Kara and opened it for her. Kara paused hallway through the frame.

“The door was unlocked?”

“No, I used the key from under the eave.”

She stepped inside, flicked on the porch light, and turned to look at Lena with her eyebrows raised. She was sure she’d never used that key in front of Lena.

“I was curious about you.”

“You spied on me?” But somehow Kara couldn’t infuse her voice with the proper outrage. She was fascinated.

Lena was unrepentant. “What else is there to do at night?” Kara let it go for the moment and went down the hall to the kitchen. Lena was there before her, needing no guide. She sat in the very chair Kara had tried to imagine her in. Her beauty lit up the kitchen. It was a moment before Kara could look away.

In the safety of her home, she removed her glasses entirely and concentrated on getting her dinner. She took last night’s lasagna from the fridge, placed a square on a plate, and heated it in the microwave.  She watched as it revolved, filling the kitchen with the smell of tomatoes and oregano. Kara didn’t take her eyes off the plate of food as she spoke.

“How often?” she asked causally.

“Hmmm?” Lena sounded as if Kara had pulled her from some other train of thought.

Kara still didn’t turn around. “How often did you come here?”

“I come here almost every night.”

Kara whirled, stunned. “Why?”

“You’re interesting when you sleep.” She spoke matter-of-factly. “You talk. And sometimes float.”

“No!” Kara gasped, heat flooding her face all the way up to her hairline. She gripped the kitchen counter, very nearly breaking it in her grasp. She knew she talked in her sleep; Alex teased her about it. She hadn’t thought it was something she needed to worry about now.

Lena’s expression shifted instantly to chagrin. “Are you very angry with me?”

“That depends!” Kara almost sounded like she’d been winded.

Lena waited.

“On?” she urged.

Suddenly Kara felt a bright and familiar heat behind her eyes. Instantly, silently, Lena was at her side, taking her hands carefully into her own.

“Don’t be upset!” Lena pleaded. She tried to look Kara in the eyes, but there was veiled curiosity as she stared into the white hot of Kara’s eyes, the way tangible heat spread out from her eyes, the skin surrounding them a glowing hue of red-orange. Kara tried to look away—she didn’t know exactly how heat vision would affect a vampire, but she wasn’t intent on finding out.

“You miss your mother—Alura,” she whispered. “You worry about Alex. And when it rains, the sound makes you restless. You used to talk about home a lot—both National City and Krypton—but it’s less often now. Once you said, ‘It’s too gray.’” Lena laughed softly, hoping, Kara could see, not to offend her.

“Anything else?” Kara demanded, feeling her heat vision slowly dissipate.

Lena knew what she was getting at. “You did say my name,” she admitted. Kara sighed in defeat.

“A lot?”

“How much do you mean by ‘a lot,’ exactly?”

“Oh no!” Kara hung her head.

She pulled Kara against her chest, softly, naturally.

“Don’t be self-conscious,” Lena whispered in her ear. “If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I’m not ashamed of it.” Then they both her the sound of tires on the concrete driveway, and saw the headlights flash through the front windows, down the hall to them. She stiffened in Lena’s arms.

“Should your mother know I’m here?” she asked.

“I’m not sure…” Kara tried to think through it quickly.

“Another time then…”

And Kara was alone.

“Lena!” she hissed.

She heard a ghostly laugh, then nothing else.

Eliza’s key turned in the door.

“Kara?” she called. It had bothered Kara before; who else would it be?

Suddenly she didn’t seem so far off base.

“In here.” Kara grabbed her dinner from the microwave and sat at the table as Eliza walked in. Her footsteps sounded so noisy after her day with Lena.

“Could you get me some of that, sweetie?” Eliza removed her shoes, and then leaned against Lena’s chair for support. Kara took her food with her, scarfing it down as she got Eliza’s leftovers and herself seconds. Feeling impatient with the microwave, she gave the lasagna a quick burst of heat vision as she grabbed two glasses of milk. She chugged her glass to busy herself. As she set the glass down, she noticed the milk trembling and realized her hand was shaking. Eliza sat in the chair, and the contrast between her and its former occupant was comical.

“Thanks,” she said as Kara placed her food on the table.

“How was your day?” Kara asked; the words were rushed. Kara was dying to escape the room.

“Good. First time I’ve gone out with friends in a good while. How about you? Did you get everything done that you wanted to?”

“Not really—it was too nice out to stay indoors.” Kara took another large bite.

“It was a nice day,” Eliza agreed.

What an understatement.

Finished with the last bite of lasagna, Kara lifted her glass and downed the remains of her milk.

Kara shouldn’t have been surprised about how observant Eliza tended to be. “In a hurry?”

“Yeah, I’m tired. I’m going to bed early.”

Eliza wasn’t fooled. “You look kind of keyed up,” she noted.

“Do I?” was all Kara could manage in response. She quickly scrubbed her dishes clean in the sink—miraculously without breaking any—and placed them upside down on a dish towel to dry.

“It’s Saturday,” Eliza mused.

Kara didn’t respond. She knew it would be a bubbling mess and incoherent string of words.

“No plans tonight?” Eliza questioned, a strange undertone of amusement.

“No, Eliza, I just I- I want to get some sleep.”

“None of the boys in town your type, eh?” She was suspicious but trying to play it cool.

“No, none of the boys have caught my eye yet.” Kara was careful not to overemphasize the word ‘boy’ in her quest to keep Eliza out of the dark.

“I thought maybe that—”

“Eliza,” Kara suddenly cut her off, wringing her fingers together as she took a deep breath. “I don’t—I don’t like… boys…”

“Oh,” Her eyebrows raised in shock before she gave a warm smile. “Well, you’re too good for any boys, anyway.”

Kara gave a dry laugh, nerves still running rampant.

Eliza was quick to wrap Kara into a bear hug. “I love you sweetie.”

“Love you too,” Kara breathed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m gonna head to bed now.” The weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter.

“Okay, goodnight, honey.” Eliza responded softly, releasing Kara so she could climb up the stairs.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Kara worked to make her tread sound slow and tired as she walked up the stairs. She closed her door, then sprinted to the window. She threw it open and leaned out into the night. Her eyes scanned the darkness, the impenetrable shadows of the trees.

“Lena?” she whispered, feeling completely idiotic. The quiet, laughing response came from behind her.

“Yes?” Kara whirled around, letting out a breath of surprise.

Lena lay, smiling hugely, across Kara’s bed, her hands behind her head, her ankles crossed, the picture of ease.

“Oh,” Kara sank slowly to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Lena pressed her lips together, trying to hide her amusement.

“Just give me a minute to restart my heart. I’m not used to people being able to sneak up on me.”

Lena sat up slowly, so as not to startle Kara. Then she leaned forward and reached out to pick Kara up, gripping the tops of her arms like she was a toddler. She sat Kara on the bed beside her.

“Why don’t you sit with me,” she suggested, putting a cool hand on Kara’s. “How’s the heart?”

“You and I can both hear it y’know, so I’m sure I’m fine.” Lena’s quiet laughter shook the bed.

They sat there for a moment in silence, both listening to Kara’s heartbeat slow. She thought about having Lena in her room, with her adoptive mother in the house.

“Can I have a minute to be… human?” Kara asked.

“Certainly.” Lena gestured with one hand that Kara should proceed.

“Stay,” Kara said, with a glare that held no heat.

“Yes ma’am.” Lena made a show of becoming a statue on the edge of the bed.

Kara hopped up, grabbing her pajamas from off the floor, and her bag of toiletries off the desk. She left the light off and slipped out, closing the door. She heard the sound of some documentary downstairs on the TV and shut the bathroom door loudly so that Eliza would know it was occupied. She meant to hurry. She brushed her teeth in a flurry of superspeed, trying to remove all traces of lasagna. In the shower, the hot water could not be rushed. She wished the water could get hotter, so that she could truly feel the heat; instead, it felt like a barely warm caress to her Kryptonian skin. If it wasn’t for her heightened sense of touch, she probably wouldn’t even know she was getting doused in water. The familiar smell of her shampoo made her feel like she might be the same person she had been this morning. Kara tried not to think of Lena, sitting in her room, waiting, because then Kara had to start all over with the calming process. Finally, she couldn’t delay anymore. She shut off the water, toweling hastily, rushing again. She pulled on her holey t-shirt and gray sweatpants. She suddenly felt underdressed in her pajamas when in the presence of Lena Luthor.

Kara rubbed the towel through her hair again, and then yanked the brush through it quickly. She threw the towel in the hamper and flung her brush and toothpaste in her bag. Then she dashed down the stairs in her pajamas.

She hugged Eliza, a little too tightly if the sound of her back popping way anything to go by. “Night, Eliza.”

“Night, Kara.” She seemed startled, but hugged Kara back tightly. Trying to quell her excitement in front of Eliza, she trudged back up the stairs at a horribly human pace.

She closed the door tightly behind her.

Lena hadn’t moved a fraction of an inch, a carving of Aphrodite perched on Kara’s faded quilt. Kara smiled, and Lena’s lips twitched, the statue coming to life.

Her eyes appraised Kara, taking in the damp hair and the tattered shirt. She raised one eyebrow, as was her manner, “Nice.”

Kara grimaced.

“No, it looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” Kara whispered. She went back to Lena’s side, sitting cross-legged beside her.

“What was all that for?”

“Eliza.”

“Oh,” She contemplated that. “Why?” As if she couldn’t know Eliza’s mind much more clearly than Kara could guess.

“Apparently, I look a little overexcited. I was trying to make it clear I’m staying home tonight.”

She lifted her chin, examining Kara’s face.

“You look very warm.”

She bent her face slowly to Kara’s, laying her cool cheek against her skin. Kara held perfectly still.

Lena hummed in contentment.

It was very difficult for Kara, while Lena was touching her, to frame a coherent question. It took Kara a minute of scattered concentration to begin.

“It seems to be… much easier for you, now, to be close to me.”

“Does it seem that way to you?” she murmured, her nose gliding to the corner of Kara’s jaw. She felt Lena’s hand, lighter than a moth’s wing, brushing her damp hair back, so that her lips could touch the hollow beneath Kara’s ear.

“M-much, much easier,” Kara said, trying to exhale.

“Hmm.”

“So I was wondering…” Kara began again, but Lena’s fingers were slowly tracing her collarbone, and Kara lost her train of thought.

“Yes?” Lena breathed.

“Why is that” Kara voice shook, embarrassing her, “do you think?” She felt the tremor of Lena’s breath on her neck as she laughed.

“Mind over matter.”

Kara pulled back; as she moved, Lena froze—she could no longer hear Lena breathing.

They stared curiously at each other for a moment, and then, as Lena’s clenched jaw gradually relaxed, her expression became puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no, the uh, the opposite actually. You’re driving me crazy.” Kara explained, knowing her face was permanently crimson in Lena’s presence. Lena considered that briefly, and when she spoke, she sounded pleased.

“Really?” A triumphant smile slowly lit her face.

“Would you like a round of applause?” Kara groaned sarcastically. But Lena’s smile simply turned into a smirk.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised,” Lena clarified. “In the last hundred years or so,” her voice was teasing, “I never imagined anything like this. I didn’t believe I would ever find someone I actually wanted to be with… in another way than my brothers and sisters. And then to find, even though most of its new to me, that I’m good at it… being with you…”

“You’re good at everything,” Kara pointed out.

Lena shrugged, allowing that, and they both laughed quietly.

“But how can it be so easy now?” Kara pressed, her signature crinkle appearing again. “This afternoon…”

“It’s not easy,” she sighed. “But this afternoon, I was still… undecided. I am sorry about that, it was unforgivable for me to behave so.”

“Not unforgivable,” Kara disagreed.

“Thank you.” Lena smiled. “You see,” she continued, looking down now, “I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough…” she picked up one of Kara’s hands and pressed it lightly to her face. “And while there was still that possibility that I might be… overcome”—she breathed in the scent of Kara’s wrist— “I was… susceptible. Until I made up my mind that I was strong enough, that there was no possibility at all that I would… that I ever could…”

Kara had never seen Lena struggle so hard for words. It was so… human.

“So there’s no possibility now?”

“Mind over matter,” Lena repeated, smiling, her teeth bright even in the darkness.

“Wow, that was easy,”

Lena threw her head back and laughed, quietly as a whisper, but still exuberantly.

“Easy for you!” she amended, touching Kara’s nose with her fingertip. Then, abruptly, Lena’s face was serious. “It does help knowing you’re an alien. And I’m trying,” she was whispering again, her voice pained. “If it gets to be… too much, I’m fairly sure I’ll be able to leave.”

Kara’s face morphed into a pout. She didn’t like the talk of leaving.

“And it will be harder tomorrow,” Lena continued. “I’ve had the scent of you in my head all day, and I’ve grown amazingly desensitized. If I’m away from you for any length of time, I’ll have to start all over again. Not quite from scratch, though, I think.”

“Don’t go away, then,” Kara responded, unable to hide the longing in her voice.

“That suits me,” she replied, her face relaxing into a gentle smile. “Bring on the shackles—I’m your prisoner.” But her alabaster hands formed manacles around Kara’s wrist as she spoke. She laughed her quiet, musical laugh. She’d laughed more tonight than Kara had ever heard in all the time she’d spent with Lena.

“You seem more… optimistic than usual,” Kara observed. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be like this?” she smiled. “The glory of first love, and all that. It’s incredible, isn’t it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in the pictures, and experiencing it?”

“Very different,” Kara agreed. “Not as… forceful than I’d imagined.” Lena gave a questioning look that Kara had no choice but to oblige. “On Krypton, marriages were arranged for noble houses. Everyone—except my cousin Kal—was genetically engineered in the birthing Matrix. We all had predetermined matches.” Lena hummed sadly. “But keep going, I want to hear about your perspective.”

Lena nodded, and she spoke so quickly that Kara was glad she was anything but human. She wouldn’t be able to catch the words otherwise. “For example, the emotion of jealousy. I’ve read about it a hundred thousand times, seen actors portray it in a thousand different plays and movies. I believed I understood that one pretty clearly. But it shocked me…” she grimaced. “Do you remember the day that Mike asked you to the dance?”

Kara nodded, though she remembered that day for a different reason. “The day you started talking to me again.”

“I was surprised by the flare of resentment, almost fury, that I felt— I didn’t recognize what it was at first. I was even more aggravated than usual that I couldn’t know what you were thinking, why you refused him. Was it simply for his sake? Was there someone else? I knew I had no right to care either way. I tried not to care.

“And then the line started forming,” she laughed, and Kara groaned at the memory. “I waited, unreasonably anxious to hear what you would say to them, to watch your expressions. I couldn’t deny the relief I felt, watching the annoyance on your face. But I couldn't be sure.

“That was the first night I came here. I wrestled all night, while watching you sleep, with the chasm between what I knew was right, moral, ethical, and what I wanted. I knew that if I continued to ignore you as I should, or if I left for a few years, till you were gone, that someday you would say yes to Mike, or someone like him. It made me angry.

“And then,” she whispered, “as you were sleeping, you said my name. You spoke so clearly, at first, I thought you’d woken. But you rolled over restlessly and mumbled by name once more and sighed. The feeling that coursed through me then was unnerving, staggering. And I knew I couldn’t ignore you any longer.” She was silent for a moment, probably listening to the suddenly uneven pounding of Kara’s heart.

“But jealously… it’s a strange thing. So much more powerful than I would have thought. And irrational! Just now, when Eliza asked you about if there were any boys of interest…” Lena shook her head angrily.

“I should have known you’d be listening,” Kara grumbled again.

“Of course.”

“That made you feel jealous, though, really?”

“I’m new at this; you’re resurrecting the human in me, and everything feels stronger because it’s fresh.”

“But honestly,” Kara teased, “for that to bother you, after I have to hear that Andrea—Andrea, the incarnation of pure beauty, Andrea—was meant for you. Sam or no Sam, how can I compete with that?”

“There’s no competition.” Her teeth gleamed. She drew Kara’s trapped hands around her back, holding Kara to her chest. Kara kept as still as she could, even breathing with caution.

“I know there’s no competition.” Kara mumbled into Lena’s cool skin. “That’s the problem.”

“Of course, Andrea is beautiful in her way, but even if she wasn’t like a sister to me, even if Samantha didn’t belong with her, she could never have one tenth, no, one hundredth of the attraction you hold for me.” Lena was serious now, thoughtful. “For over a hundred years, I’ve walked among my kind, and humans… all the time thinking I was complete in myself, not realizing what I was seeking. And not finding anything, because you weren’t alive yet—because you weren’t on Earth yet.”

“It hardly seems fair,” Kara stated, her face still resting on Lena’s face, listening to her breath come and go. “There was the destruction of my planet, and now I haven’t had to wait at all. Why should I get off so easily after the death of my planet?”

“The death of your home doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to keep moving forward, continuing on in life and what have you.” She freed one of Kara’s hands, released her wrist, only to gather it carefully into her other hand. She stroked Kara’s wet hair softly, from the top of her head to the middle of her back. “But I would not say you’re getting off easy. You only have to turn your back on nature, on humanity… what’s that worth?”

“Very little—I don’t feel deprived of anything.”

“Not yet.” Lena’s voice was abruptly full of ancient grief. Kara tried to pull back, to look at Lena’s face, but they were both suddenly still. Alert. Eliza was walking up the stairs. Lena was suddenly gone.

Kara scrambled onto her bed, rolling under her quilt and balling up on her side, the way she usually slept. She heard the door crack open, as Eliza peeked in to make sure Kara was safely sound asleep. Kara breathed evenly, trying to emulate sleep. Once she heard the door safely close, Lena’s arm was suddenly around her waist, under the covers, her lips at Kara’s ear.

“You are a terrible actress—I’d say that career path is out for you.”

“Darn it,” Kara’s heart was thrashing around her chest. Lena hummed a melody Kara didn’t recognize; it sounded like a lullaby. Lena paused.

“Should I sing you to sleep?”

“Right,” Kara laughed. “Like I could sleep with you here.”

“You do it all the time,” Lena reminded her.

“But I didn’t know you were here,” Kara protested.

“So you if you don’t want to sleep…” she suggested, ignoring Kara’s protest. Her breath halted. Lena laughed, aware of her effect on Kara. “What do you want to do then?”

Kara couldn’t answer at first,

“I’m not sure,” she settled on.

“Tell me when you decide.”

She could feel Lena’s cool breath on her neck, feel her nose sliding along Kara’s jaw, inhaling.

“I thought you were desensitized.”

“Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet,” Her breath ghosted across Kara’s ear. “You have a very floral smell, like honeysuckle… or jasmine.” she noted. “It’s mouthwatering.”

“Yeah, it’s an off day when I don’t get someone telling me how edible I smell.”

Lena snorted, and then sighed.

“I’ve decided what I want to do,” she told Lena. “I want to hear more about you.”

“Ask me anything.”

Kara sifted through her questions for the most vital. “Why do you do it?” she inquired. “I still don’t understand how you can work so hard to resist what you… are. Please don’t misunderstand, of course I’m glad that you do. I just don’t see why you would bother in the first place.”

Lena hesitated before answering. “That’s a good question, and you’re not the first one to ask it. The others—the majority of our kind who are quite content with our lot—they too, wonder at how we live. But you see, just because we’ve been… dealt a certain hand… it doesn’t mean that we can’t choose to rise above—to conquer the boundaries of a destiny that none of us wanted. To try and retain whatever essential humanity we can.”

Kara lay unmoving, locked in awed silence.

“Did you fall asleep?” Lena wondered after a few minutes.

“No.”

“Is that all you were curious about?”

Kara rolled her eyes. “Not quite.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Why can you read minds—why only you? And Sam, seeing the future… why does that happen?”

She felt Lena shrug in the darkness. “We don’t really know. Lionel has a theory… he believes that we all bring something of our strongest human traits with us into the next life, where they are intensified—like our minds, and our senses. He thinks that I must have already been very sensitive to the thoughts of those around me. And that Sam had some precognition, wherever she was.”

“What did he bring into the next life, and the others?”

“Lionel brought his compassion. Lillian brought her ability to love passionately. Jack brought his strength, Andrea her… tenacity. Or you could call it pigheadedness.” she shook her head with mirth. “William is interesting. He was quite charismatic in his first life, able to influence those around him to see things his way. Now, he is able to manipulate the emotions of those around him—calm down a room of angry people, for example, or excite a lethargic crowd, conversely. It’s a very subtle gift.”

Kara considered the impossibilities Lena described, trying to take it in. Lena waited patiently while Kara thought.

“So where did it all start? I mean, Lionel changed you, and then someone must have changed him, and so on.”

“Well, where did you come from? Evolution? Creation? Couldn’t we have evolved in the same way as other species, predator and prey? Or, if you don’t believe that all this world could have just happened on its own, which I’m partial to accept myself, is it so hard to believe that the same force that created the delicate angel fish with the shark, the baby seal and the killer whale, could create both humans and my kind together?”

“Let me get this straight—since I’m an alien, I’m like a unicorn, right?”

“Right.” Lena chortled, and something touched Kara’s hair—her lips?

Kara wanted to turn toward Lena, to see if was really Lena’s lips against her hair. But she had to be good; she didn’t want to make this any harder for Lena than it already was.

“Are you ready to sleep” She asked, interrupting the short silence. “Or do you have any more questions?”

“Only a million or two.”

“We have tomorrow, and the next day, and the next…” Lena stated. Kara smiled, euphoric at the thought.

“Are you sure you won’t vanish in the morning?” Kara wanted this to be certain. “You are mythical, after all.”

“I won’t leave you.” Her voice had the seal of a promise in it.

“One more, then, tonight…” Kara flushed. The darkness was no help—she was sure Lena could feel the sudden warmth under her skin.

“What is it?”

“No forget it, I uh, I changed my mind.”

“Kara, you can ask me anything.”

She didn’t answer, and Lena groaned.

“I keep thinking it will get less frustrating, not hearing your thoughts. But it just gets worse and worse.”

“I’m glad you can’t read my thoughts. It’s bad enough that you eavesdrop on my sleep talking.”

“Please?” Her voice was so persuasive, so impossible to resist. Kara shook her head.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just assume it something much worse than it is,” she joked. “Please?” again, that pleading voice.

“Well,” Kara began, glad that Lena couldn’t see her face.

“Yes?”

“You said that Andrea and Jack had been married before… is that… marriage… the same as it is for humans?”

Lena laughed in earnest now, understanding. “Is that what you’re getting at?”

Kara fidgeted, unable to answer.

“Yes, I suppose it is much the same,” she said. “I told you, most of those human desires are there, just hidden behind more powerful desires.

“Oh,” was all Kara could manage.

“Was there a purpose behind your curiosity?”

“Well, I did wonder… about you and me… someday…” Lena was instantly serious—Kara could tell by the sudden stillness of her body. Kara froze too, reacting automatically.

“I’m not sure… I mean at first, I was worried about your fragility but now…”

“Would it be too hard for you… if I were that… close?”

“That’s certainly a problem, but not what I was thinking of. I worry about your involvement in my world. Now I don’t have to worry about accidentally hurting you, but I worry about my society. But I hadn’t thought about marriage itself too much. I never believed it would be in my cards to get married. What about you—what was marriage like on Krypton?”

“It was similar to Earth’s way, but a little different.” Kara sighed, recalling long forgotten memories. “The betrothed would stand on the Jewel of Truth and Honor. An ancient Kryptonian wedding ceremony would begin… when that was over, the couple would exchange wedding bracelets of a color variation unique to them—no other couple would be allowed to duplicate this.  Then you’d get a blessing from Rao—our god—and there would be a ceremonial kiss. By Kryptonian law, divorce was forbidden. Once a couple is married, there’s no way to dissolve a marriage.”

Lena hummed in acknowledgement. “What if the couple had a falling out?”

Kara shrugged. “For the lucky ones that didn’t have arranged marriages, there was a computer that would judge the couple—it was the Matricomp. In order to get married, the Matricomp had to approve the marriage and its compatibility. By law, a marriage could only go through if it was approved by the Matricomp—it would be treason to go against it. After a wedding, the couple would visit the Fire Falls for good luck. There wasn’t the human… honeymoon.”

Lena seemed to deliberate for a moment. “I’m curious now…” her voice was light. “Have you ever…?” she trailed off suggestively.

“Of course not,” Kara flushed. “I told you; I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, not even close. Plus, it wasn’t… it wasn’t safe. I agree with you Lena; humans are fragile. If I wasn’t focused for even a second in a moment like that, if I wasn’t aware of every movement—if I lost sight of my strength, I could accidentally pulverize a human with a single touch.”

Lena’s hold seemed to tighten protectively around Kara. “I know. It’s just that I know other peoples’ thoughts. I know love and lust don’t always keep the same company. But, for what it’s worth, you don’t have to be careful with me Kara. You can’t break me.”

“And you can’t break me, Lena. And they do for me—love and lust I mean—they do keep the same company… for me…”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“Your human instincts…” Kara began; Lena waited. “Well, do you find me attractive, in that way, at all?”

Lena laughed, seeming appalled by such a question. “I may not be human, but I am a woman with eyes.” She assured Kara.

Kare yawned involuntarily.

“I’ve answered your questions, now you should sleep.” Lena insisted.

“I’m not sure if I can.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Kara said, too loudly in the stillness.

Lena laughed again, and then began to hum that same, unfamiliar lullaby, the voice of an archangel, soft in her ear.

More tired than she realized, exhausted from the long day of mental and emotional stress, she drifted to sleep in the cool embrace of Lena’s arms.

Chapter Text

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy, for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves. We must die to one life before we can enter into another.”

― Anatole France

The muted light of yet another cloudy day eventually woke Kara. She laid with an arm across her eyes, slightly groggy. Uncharacteristically, it was as if her brain was trying to recall a dream, reaching for it but not quite able to grasp it. She groaned and rolled over, hoping for more sleep. Then, the events of yesterday rushed toward her and flooded her with awareness.

She sat up in a blur— a literal blur— blinking her eyes rapidly as she adjusted to every minute detail of the room.

“Your hair is surprisingly… not a haystack.” Lena’s unruffled and amused voice came from the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Lena!” she breathed, “You stayed.” In a thoughtless blink, Kara was standing in front of Lena, pulling her into a crushing hug. She froze, shocked by her own uncontrolled enthusiasm. She stared at Lena as she pulled back, afraid she had crossed the wrong line.

Lena simply laughed.

“Of course,” she answered, startled, but seeming pleased by Kara’s reaction. Her hands rubbed at Kara’s lower back, urging her forward.

Kara laid her head cautiously against Lena’s shoulder, breathing in the smell that was undesirably Lena.

“If it wasn’t for my perfect alien memory, I could have been sure it was a dream.”

“You’re not that creative,” Lena scoffed without malice.

“Eliza!” Kara suddenly remembered, extending her senses and scouring the premises with her ears. She was gone.

“She left an hour ago—she was on call, there was an emergency surgery.” Kara was suddenly overwhelmed by trivial things such as morning breath.

“You’re not usually this confused in the morning,” Lena noted, trying to corral Kara closer again.

“I need another human—er, alien—minute?” Kara admitted.

“I’ll wait.”

Kara hurried to the bathroom, her emotions unrecognizable. She didn’t seem to know herself, inside and out. The face in the mirror was practically a stranger—eyes too bright, brightness that hadn’t been there since Krypton—hectic spots of red splashed across her cheekbones.

She brushed her teeth and ran a scattered hand through her hair. She splashed her face with cold water that didn’t actually do anything to ease her emotions. She half flew to her room. It seemed like a miracle that Lena was there, her arms waiting for Kara. Lena reached for her, and Kara’s heart thumped unsteadily. She was absolutely terrified of being abandoned again, even if she didn’t voice it.

“Welcome back,” she spoke reverently, taking Kara into her arms. They swayed together for a while in silence; Kara couldn’t help but notice that there few inches in height difference allowed Lena’s chin to rest comfortably—perfectly—in the crook of Kara’s neck. Her thoughts were momentarily derailed when she noticed that Lena’s clothes were changed, her hair smooth and pin straight.

“You left?” she inquired as she pulled back, touching the collar of Lena’s fresh shirt.

“I could hardly leave in the clothes I came in—what would the neighbors think?”

Kara pouted.

“You were very deeply asleep; I didn’t miss anything.” Her eyes seemed to gleam—damagingly green in the moment. “The talking came earlier.”

Kara huffed, pushing Lena away playfully. “What did you hear?”

Her verdant eyes grew incredibly soft. “You said something in a language I don’t recognize. Kryptonian?”

“Kryptonese.” She corrected softly.

“Zhao khuhp rrip?” Lena repeated with perfect intonation, though jarring for Kara to hear for two reasons. One, the accent was staggeringly not Kryptonian, and two, Lena was speaking Kryptonese—if only to repeat Kara’s words, but it still mattered deeply to her.

She knew her face was scarlet the moment Lena raised one of those flawless eyebrows. “It uh, it means ‘I love you.’” Lena’s smile seemed to intensify. “You knew that already.” Kara tried to deter Lena’s smug look.

“It was nice to hear, just the same.”

Kara hid her face, burying it against Lena’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Kara whispered, this time conscious and in English, and her heart felt like it was going to escape her ribcage.

“You are my life now,” Lena answered simply before pulling Kara away from her. “Will you teach me to speak your native language?”

Kara floundered, her mouth opening and closing several times. She hadn’t expected that. No one truly knew Kryptonese—Kal’s was rudimentary at best, his grammar a mess and his pronunciation shoddy. Alex only wanted to know the cuss words. Eventually she settled on a simply nod, words not enough to describe the emotions she was feeling now.

Lena simply pulled Kara back into her arms, swaying as the room became lighter and time moved forward.

“Breakfast time,” Lena said eventually, casually—to prove, Kara was sure, that she had remembered all of her living frailties.

Kara clutched her throat with both hands and stared at Lena with wide eyes. Shock was quick to cross her face. “Kidding!” Kara snickered. “And you said I couldn’t act!”

Lena frowned deeply. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was absolutely funny, and you know it.” Kara examined her eyes carefully to make sure she was forgiven. Lena’s eyes never changed to the telling golden hue, so apparently, she was.

“Shall I rephrase?” she asked. “Breakfast time for the alien?”

“Oh, okay.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrousness of it all. Kara disappeared in a blur, already sitting at the kitchen table when Lena made her way down. The kitchen was bright, happy, seeming to absorb Kara’s mood.

“What’s for breakfast?” she asked cheekily.

That threw Lena for a minute.

“Er, I’m not sure. What would you like?” Her marble brow puckered. Kara grinned, hopping up from her seat.

“That’s alright. As long as no actual cooking is involved, I can fend for myself.” Kara found a bowl and a box of cereal. She could feel Lena’s eyes on her as she poured the milk and grabbed a spoon. She sat her food on the table, and then paused.

“Can I get you anything?” Kara asked, not wanting to be rude.

Lena rolled her eyes. “Just eat, Kara.”

Kara sat at the table, watching Lena as she took a bite. She was gazing at Kara, studying her every movement. It made Kara self-conscious. She cleared her mouth to speak, to distract Lena.

“What’s on the agenda today?”

“Hmmm…” she watched Lena frame her answer carefully. “What would you say to meeting my family?”

Kara gulped.

“Are you afraid now?” She sounded ridiculously hopeful.

“Yes,” Kara admitted; how could she deny it—Lena could see her eyes.

“Don’t worry.” Lena smirked. “’I’ll protect you.”

“Invulnerable, Lena. I’m invulnerable. But I’m not afraid of them.” She explained. “I’m afraid they won’t… like me. Won’t they be, well, surprised that you would bring someone… like me… home to meet them? Do they know that I know about them? Do they know I’m an alien?”

“Oh, they already know about everything—well, they don’t know you’re an alien. That’s not for me to tell. However, they’d taken bets yesterday, you know—” she smiled, but her voice was sardonic— “on whether I’d bring you back, though why anyone would bet against Sam, I can’t imagine. At any rate, we don’t have secrets in the family. It’s not really feasible, what with my mind reading and Sam seeing the future and all that.”

“And William making you feel all warm and fuzzy about spilling your guts, don’t forget that.”

“You paid attention,” Lena smiled approvingly.

“I’ve been known to do that every now and then.” Kara grimaced. “So did Sam see me coming?”

Her reaction was strange. “Something like that, it’s all very spotty. I’m beginning to think that’s something to do with you being an alien.” Lena seemed suddenly uncomfortable, turning away so that Kara couldn’t see her eyes. She stared at Lena curiously.

“Is that any good?” she asked, turning back to Kara abruptly and eyeing her breakfast with a teasing look on her face. “Honestly, it doesn’t look very appetizing.”

“Well, it’s no irritable grizzly…” she mumbled around a mouthful of cereal. Lena glowered, but Kara was still wondering why Lena had seemed uncomfortable when she mentioned Sam. Kara hurried through her cereal, speculating. Lena stood in the middle of the kitchen, the statue of Aphrodite again, staring abstractly out the back windows.

Then her eyes were back on Kara, and she smiled that same heartbreaking smile that she always did.

“You should introduce me to your adoptive mother, too, I think.”

“Technically, she already knows you,” Kara chided.

“As your girlfriend, I mean.”

Kara stared at her with suspicion. “Why?”

“Isn’t that customary?” Lena questioned innocently.

“I don’t know,” Kara admitted. Between being a refugee on Earth, and a dating history with few reference points to work with, she was clueless. Not that any normal rules of dating applied here. “That’s not necessary, y’know? I don’t expect you to… I mean, you don’t have to pretend for me.”

Her smile was patient. “I’m not pretending.”

Kara swirled her spoon around in the milk, biting her lip.

“Are you going to tell Eliza I’m your girlfriend or not?” Her voice was still soft, patient, not at all in the demanding tenor Kara would have expected.

“Is that what you are?” Kara suppressed her internal cringing at the thought of Lena and Eliza and the word girl and friend all in the same room at the same time.

“It’s a loose interpretation of the word ‘girl,’ I’ll admit.”

“I was under the impression that you were something more, actually,” Kara confessed, looking at the table.

“Well, I don’t know if we need to give her all the gory details.” She reached across the table to lift Kara’s chin with a cold, gentle finger. “But she will need some explanation for why I’m around here so much. I don’t want Doctor Danvers getting a restraining order put on me. I hear she knows Chief Swan.”

“Will you be?” Kara asked, suddenly anxious. “Will you really be here?”

“As long as you want me,” she assured her.

“I’ll always want you,” Kara warned. “Forever.” Lena walked slowly around the table, and, pausing a few feet away, she reached out to touch her fingertips to Kara’s cheek. Her expression was unfathomable.

“Does that make you sad?” Lena asked suddenly, gently.

“What?”

“That you will live forever—your family, your Earth family, they’re human. You’ve mentioned in passing that you will live forever here.”

Kara sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It makes me sadder than I can really comprehend. I lose one… I lose one family, only to land on a planet where the Sun radiates my cells and keeps me eternally unchanged… to lose another—another—family.” Lena’s hand came to rest on Kara’s shoulder, an anchor point.  There was a strange look in Lena’s eyes, somehow repentant, understanding, and indecisive all at once.

“I’m sorry, Kara.” She just shook her head, plastering on a smile. Lena got the hint. “Are you finished?”

Kara jumped up. “Yup.”

“Get dressed— I’ll wait here.”

It was hard to decide what to wear. Kara doubted there were any etiquette books detailing how to dress when your vampire sweetheart takes you home to meet her vampire family.

She ended up in dark gray chinos, and a dark blue blouse Lena had once complimented. Still casual, but not too casual. A quick glance in the mirror told Kara her hair was manageable today, falling in soft waves. She let it land loosely over her shoulders and her back, framing her face. She then grabbed her glasses, put them on, and bounded down the stairs.

“Okay, I’m decent.” Lena was waiting at the foot of the stairs, closer than Kara thought, and she bounded right into her. She steadied Kara, holding her a careful distance away for a few seconds before suddenly pulling Kara closer.

“Wrong again,” her cool breath ghosted Kara’s ear. “You are utterly indecent—no one should look so tempting, it’s not fair.”

“Tempting how?” Kara fluttered, nervous. “I-I can change—”

Lena sighed, shaking her head. “You are so absurd.” Lena moved, reaching up on her toes and pressed her lips delicately to Kara’s forehead, and the room seemed to fade away. The smell of Lena made it impossible to think.

“Shall I explain how you are tempting me?” It was clearly a rhetorical question. Lena’s fingers traced slowly down Kara’s spine, her breath coming more quickly against Kara’s flushed skin. Her hands were tight around Lena’s solid biceps. She tipped Kara’s head down.

Cool lips met inexplicable warmth and Kara’s steel grip tightened. Her lips parted instinctively against Lena’s, and she could feel the tug of razor-sharp teeth as Lena seemed to give into her more primal urges. Her lips diverted, following the curve of Kara’s neck instead, gently nipping at the skin.

“Kara?” Her voice was suddenly alarmed.

“Shisir!” She was floating, at least a foot off the ground. “You—you made me… float!” Kara accused, rather incoherently as she touched back down.

“What am I going to do with you?” Lena groaned with false exasperation. “Yesterday I kiss you, and you attack me. Today you start to float away. You’re incorrigible Kara Danvers.”

Kara laughed weakly. “Zor-El.”

“Ah, let me rephrase, you, Kara Zor-El, are incorrigible. How am I going to take you anywhere?” Lena was infuriatingly cheeky today. Or was it every day?

“I’m fine,” Kara insisted. “Your family is going to think I’m insane anyway, what’s the difference?”

Lena measured her expression for a moment. “I’m quite partial to that color with your skin,” she offered unexpectedly. Kara flushed further—if that was possible—and looked away.

“Can we uh, can we just go already before… before I combust? I’m already going crazy thinking about meeting your family.”

“And you’re worried, not because you’re headed to meet a houseful of vampires, but because you think those vampires won’t approve of you?”

“Careful, Luthor, your American accent is really starting to slip away. But yes, that’s right.” Kara teased, intently focused on the distinctly Irish accent in the word ‘worried.’

Lena just snickered and rolled her eyes. “You’re incredible.”

Kara realized, as Lena drove her truck out of the main part of town, that Kara had no idea where she lived. They passed over the bridge at the Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past them growing farther apart, getting bigger. Then they were past the other houses altogether, driving through misty forest. Kara was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient, when Lena turned abruptly onto an unpaved road. It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few meters as it twisted, serpentlike, around the ancient trees.

Then, after a few miles, there was some thinning of the woods, and they were suddenly in a small meadow—or was it actually a lawn? The gloom of the forest didn’t relent, though, for there were six primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees held their protective shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story.

Kara didn’t know what she had expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. The house was timeless, graceful, and probably a hundred years old. It was painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall, rectangular and well proportioned. The windows and doors were either part of the original structure or a perfect restoration. Her truck was the only car in sight. She could hear the river close by, hidden in the obscurity of the forest.

“Woah…”

“You like it?” she smiled.

“It… has a certain charm.”

“Ready?” Lena asked, opening Kara’s door.

“Not even a little bit—let’s go.” She tried to laugh, but it seemed to get stuck in her throat. Kara smoothed her hair nervously.

“You look lovely.” She took Kara’s hand easily, without thinking about it. They walked through the deep shade up to the porch. Kara knew Lena could feel her tension; her thumb rubbed smoothing circles into the back of Kara’s hand. Lena opened the door for her.

The inside was even more surprising, less predictable, than the exterior. It was intensely bright, open, and extravagantly large. It must have been originally several rooms, but the walls had been removed from most of the first floor to create one wide space. The back, south facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass, and, beyond the shade of the cedars, the lawn stretched bare to the wide river. A massive curving staircase dominated the west side of the room. The walls, the high beamed ceiling, the wooden floors, and the thick carpets were all varying shades of white.

Waiting to greet them, standing just left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, were Lena’s parents.

Kara had seen Dr. Luthor before, of course, yet she couldn’t help but be struck again by his youth, his outrageous perfection. At his side was Lillian, she assumed, the only one of the family she’d never seen before. She had the same pale, beautiful features as the rest of them. Only, for two people not related at all, born in different times, she looked strikingly like Lena. Her hair was pin-straight like Lena’s, hanging around her face, but it was a rich brown opposed to the staggering darkness of Lena’s. Her face was just as angular, just as sharp in all the right places as Lena but with piercings blue eyes. They were both dressed casually, in light colors that matched the inside of the house. They smiled in welcome but made no move to approach them. Trying not to frighten her, Kara guessed. They didn’t know she was an alien, she reminded herself.

“Lionel, Lillian,” Lena’s voice broke the short silence, “this is Kara.”

“You’re very welcome, Kara.” Lionel’s step forward was measured, careful as he approached Kara. He raised his hand tentatively, and Kara stepped forward to shake hands with him.

“It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Luthor.”

“Please, call me Lionel.”

“Lionel.” Kara grinned at him, her sudden confidence surprising her. She could feel Lena’s relief at her side, it was so palpable.

Lillian smiled and stepped forward as well, reaching for Kara’s hand. Her cool, stone grasp under the weight of Kara’s careful handshake was just as she had expected.

“It’s very nice to know you,” she said sincerely.

“Thank you. I’m glad to meet you too.” And she was. It was like meeting some fairy tale creatures that were impossibly ethereal.

“Where are Sam and William?” Lena asked, but no one answered, as they had suddenly appeared at the top of the wide staircase.

“Hey, Lena!” Sam called enthusiastically. She ran down the stairs, a streak of brown hair and pale olive skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of Kara. Lionel and Lilian shot warning glances at her, but Kara liked it. It was natural—for her, anyway, and increasingly normal for Kara to be around other people with similar abilities.

“Hi, Kara.” She walked forward smoothly, hugging Kara in a quick motion before pulling back. If Lionel and Lillian had looked cautious before, they now looked staggered. There was shock in Kara’s eyes, not expecting a sudden hug, but was also pleased that she seemed to approve of her so entirely. She was startled to feel Lena stiffen at her side. Kara glanced at her face, but her expression was unreadable.

“You do smell nice, I never noticed before,” she commented, to Kara’s extreme embarrassment.

No one else seemed to know quite what to say, and then William was there— tall and neat in appearance. A feeling of ease spread through Kara, and she was suddenly comfortable despite where she was. Lena stared at William, raising one eyebrow, and Kara remembered what Willam could do.

“Hello, Kara,” William greeted. He kept his distance, not offering to shake her hand, but it was impossible to feel awkward near him.

“Hi, William.” Kara smiled at him shyly, and then at the others. “It’s nice to meet you all—you have a very beautiful home,” she added conventionally.

“Thank you,” Lillian spoke softly. “We’re so glad that you came.” It was with feeling, and Kara realized that she thought she was brave.

Kara also realized that Andrea and Jack were nowhere to be seen, and she remembered Lena’s too-innocent denial when she’d asked Lena if the others didn’t like her.

Lionel’s expression distracted Kara from this train of thought; he was gazing meaningfully at Lena with an intense expression. Out of the corner of her eye, Kara saw Lena nod once.

She looked away, trying to be polite. Kara’s eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. She always admired the piano, it was her favorite Earth instrument.

Lillian noticed her preoccupation.

“Do you play?” she asked, inclining her head toward the piano.

Kara shook her head. “I’ve never played, I’d like to one day. It’s beautiful; is it yours?”

“No,” she laughed. “Lena didn’t tell you she was musical?”

“No.” Kara challenged Lena’s suddenly innocent expression with narrowed eyes. “I should have known, I guess.”

Lillian raised her brows in the same manner as Lena—it was uncanny—in confusion.

“Lena can do everything, right?” Kara explained; William snickered, and Lillian gave Lena a reproving look.

“I hope you haven’t been showing off—it’s rude,” she scolded.

“Just a bit,” Lena laughed freely. Lillian’s face softened at the sound, and they shared a brief look that Kara didn’t understand, though Lillian’s face seemed almost smug.

“She’s been too modest, actually,” Kara corrected with her own soft smile.

“Well, play for her,” Lillian encouraged.

Lena objected. “You just said showing off was rude.”

“There are exceptions to every rule.”

“I’d like to hear you play,” Kara volunteered.

“It’s settled then.” Lillian pushed Lena toward the piano; Lena pulled Kara along, sitting Kara on the bench beside her.

Lena gave her a long, exasperated look before she turned to the keys. Then, her fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory, and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it was impossible to believe only one set of hands played. Kara felt her jaw drop in astonishment before she tried to quickly recover, but not before hearing the low chuckles behind her at her reactions. Lena looked at Kara casually, the music still surging around them without pause, and winked.

“Do you like it?” Kara was learning to see past Lena’s mask of cool indifference; she could see the earnest in those sea-green eyes, seeking Kara’s approval.

“You wrote this?” She didn’t even try to prevent the awe that leaked into her words like oil.

Lena nodded, a small smile taking over, “It’s Lillian’s favorite.” Kara closed her eyes and shook her head. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m feeling extremely insignificant.”

The music slowed, transforming into something softer, something that Kara couldn’t help but recognize immediately as the same melody of Lena’s lullaby weaving through the profusion of notes.

“You inspired this one,” she spoke softly as the music grew unbearable sweeter.

Kara couldn’t speak; she was short circuiting.

“They like you, you know,” Lena said conversationally. “Lillian especially.”

Kara glanced behind her, but the grandiose room was empty now.

“Where did they go?”

“Very subtly giving us some privacy, I suppose.”

Kara couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her. “They like me… but Andrea and Jack…” she trailed off, not sure how to express her doubts.

Lena frowned, her brows furrowing. “Don’t worry about Andrea.” Her eyes were wide and persuasive. “She’ll come around.”

Kara pursed her lips, lifting her glasses up slightly in her skepticism. “Jack?”

“Well, he thinks I’m a lunatic, it’s true, but he doesn’t have a problem with you. Jack and Andrea are still close; he’s trying to reason with Andrea.”

“What is it that upsets her?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

Lena sighed deeply, but the music still refused to stop under her attentive touch. “Andrea struggles the most… with what we are. It’s hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth. And she’s a little jealous.”

“Andrea, jealous of me?” she questioned incredulously. She tried to imagine a universe in which someone as breathtaking as Andrea would have any possible reason to be jealous of someone like her.

“You’re human,” at Kara’s look of confusion, Lena gestured to her ears. “She wishes that she were too.”

“Oh,” she supposed that made sense. “Even William though…”

“That’s really my fault,” Lena admitted, “I told you he was the most recent to try our way of life. I wanted him to keep his distance.”

“Lillian and Lionel…?” Kara continued quickly.

“Are happy to see me happy. Actually, Lillian wouldn’t care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. All this time she’s been worried about me, afraid that there was something missing from my essential makeup, that I was too young when Lionel changed me… She’s ecstatic. Every time I touch you, she just about chokes with satisfaction.”

“Sam seems… enthusiastic.”

“Sam has her own way of looking at things,” Lena’s sudden frown was telling enough to something, though Kara had no idea what that something was.

“And you’re not going to explain that, are you?” A moment of wordless communication passed between them. Lena realized that Kara knew she was keeping something from her. Kara realized that she wasn’t going to give anything away. Not now.

“So, what was Lionel telling you before?”

Another crease formed between Lena’s eyebrows. “You noticed that did you?”

Kara shrugged. “Of course,”

She looked at Kara thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. “He wanted to tell me some news—he didn’t know if it was something I would share with you.”

“Will you?”

“I have to, because I’m going to be a little…” Her brows quirked, “overbearingly protective over the next few days—or weeks—and I wouldn’t want you to think I’m naturally a tyrant.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly. Sam just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we’re here, and they’re curious.”

“Visitors?”

“Yes… well, they aren’t like us, of course—in their hunting habits, I mean. They probably won’t come into town at all, but I’m certainly not going to let you out of my sight till they’re gone.”

Kara looked away when it was clear Lena would say nothing else on the topic. Her eyes couldn’t help but wander again around the spacious room.

Lena followed her gaze. “Not what you expected, is it?” Her voice was smug.

“No,” Kara admitted bashfully.

“No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don’t even think we have cobwebs… what a disappointment this must be for you,” she continued slyly. Kara ignored the teasing.

“It’s so light… so open.”

Lena was more serious when she answered. “It’s the one place we never have to hide.”

The song was still playing, Kara’s song, drifted to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note hovered poignantly in the silence.

“Thank you,” She realized there were tears in her eyes. Kara dabbed at them, embarrassed.

Lena touched the corner of her eye, trapping a tear Kara had missed. She lifted her finger, examining the drop of moisture broodingly.

Kara looked at her questioningly, and Lena gazed back for a long moment before she finally smiled.

“Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

“No coffins?” Kara verified, the sarcasm in her voice not entirely masking the slight but genuine anxiety she felt.

Lena laughed, taking Kara’s hand, and leading her away from the piano.

“No coffins,” she promised.

They walked up the massive staircase, Kara’s hand trailing along the satin-smooth rail. The long hall at the top of the stairs was paneled with honey-colored wood, the same as the floorboards.

“Andrea’s room, William and Jack’s room… Lionel’s office… Sam’s room…” she gestured as she led Kara past the doors.

She would have continued, but Kara stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring incredulously at the ornate hanging on the wall above her head. Lena laughed at her bewildered expression.

“You can laugh,” she said. “It’s sort of ironic.” Kara didn’t laugh. Her hand raised automatically, one finger extended as if to touch the large wooden cross, its dark patina contrasting with the lighter tone of the wall. She didn’t touch it, though she was curious if the aged wood would feel as silky as it looked.

“It must be very old,” she guessed.

Lena shrugged “Early sixteen-thirties, more or less.” Kara looked away from the cross to stare at Lena.

“Why do you keep this here?” she wondered.

“Nostalgia. It belonged to Lionel’s father.”

“He collected antiques?” Kara suggested doubtfully.

“No. He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached.”

Kara wasn’t sure if her face betrayed her shock, but she returned to gazing at the simple, ancient cross, just in case. Kara quickly did the mental math; the cross was over three hundred and seventy years old. The silence stretched on as she struggled to wrap her mind around the concept of so many years.

“Are you all right?” Lena sounded worried.

“How old is Lionel?” she asked quietly, ignoring Lena’s question, still staring up.

“He just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday,” Lena explained, and Kara looked back down at her with a million questions in her eyes. Lena watched her carefully as she spoke.

“Lionel was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn’t marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell’s rule, though.”

Kara kept her face composed, aware of Lena’s scrutiny as she listened.

“He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves… and vampires.” Kara grew still, but Lena went on without pausing.

“They burned a lot of innocent people—of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch.

“When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Lionel was a disappointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.

“The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course”—her brief laugh was darker now— “and waited where Lionel had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged.”

Her voice was impossibly quiet, barely a whisper.

“He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Lionel heard him call out in Latin to the others when he caught scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Lionel—he was twenty-three and fast—was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Lionel thinks he was too hungry, so he turned and attacked. He fell on Lionel first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Lionel bleeding in the street.”

She paused. Kara could sense she was editing something, keeping something from her.

“Lionel knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned—anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Lionel acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It’s a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.

“It was over then, and he realized what he had become.” Kara wasn’t sure what her face was revealing, but Lena suddenly broke off.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Kara assured her. And, though Kara bit her lip in hesitation, Lena must have seen the curiosity burning in her eyes.

She smiled. “I expect you have a few more questions for me.”

“A few.”

Her smile widened over her brilliant teeth. Lena started back down the hall, pulling Kara along by the hand. “Come on, then,” she encouraged. “I’ll show you.”

Chapter Text

“I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.”

― Virgina Woolf

Lena led her back to the room that she’d pointed out as Lionel’s office. She paused outside the door for an instant.

“Come in,” Lionel’s voice invited.

Lena opened the door to a high-ceilinged room with tall, west-facing windows. The walls were paneled again, in a darker wood—where they were visible. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that reached high above Kara’s head and held more books than she’d ever seen outside a library.

Lionel sat behind a large mahogany desk in a leather chair. He was just placing a bookmark in the pages of a thick volume he held. The room was how Kara’d always imagined a college dean’s would look—only Lionel looked too young to fit the part.

“What can I do for you?” he asked them pleasantly, rising from his seat.

“I wanted to show Kara some of our history,” Lena explained. “Well, your history, actually.”

“We didn’t mean to disturb you,” Kara apologized.

“Not at all. Where are you going to start?”

“The Waggoner,” Lena replied, placing one hand lightly on Kara’s shoulder and spinning her around to look back toward the door they’d just come through.

Every time she touched Kara, even in the most casual way, her heart had an audible reactions. It was more embarrassing with Lionel there.

The wall they faced now was different from the others. Instead of bookshelves, this wall was crowded with framed pictures of all sizes, some in vibrant colors, others dull monochromes. Kara searched for some logic, some binding motif the collection had in common, but she found nothing in her hasty examination.

Lena pulled her toward the far-left side, standing her in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.

“London in the sixteen-fifties,” Lena explained.

“The London of my youth,” Lionel added, from a few feet behind them.

“Will you tell the story?” Lena asked, and Kara twisted a little to see Lionel’s reaction.

He met her glance with a smile. “I would,” he replied. “But I’m actually running a bit late. The hospital called this morning—Dr. Snow is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories as well as I do,” he added, grinning at Lena now.

It was a strange combination to absorb—the everyday concerns of a town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London.

It was also unsettling to know that he spoke aloud only for Kara’s benefit. After another warm smile for her, Lionel left the room.

Kara stared at the little picture of Lionel’s hometown for a long moment.

“What happened then?” she finally asked, staring down at Lena, who was watching her. “When he realized what had happened to him?” Lena glanced back to the paintings, and Kara looked to see which image caught her interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors—an empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.

“When he knew what he had become,” she began quietly, “he rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that’s not easily done.”

“How?” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the word broke through Kara’s shock.

“He jumped from great heights,” Lena told her, her voice impassive. “He tried to drown himself in the ocean… but he was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing that he was able to resist… feeding… while he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, it takes over everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation.”

“Is that possible?” her voice was faint.

“No, there are very few ways we can be killed.” Kara opened her mouth to ask, but Lena spoke before she could.

“So he grew very hungry, and eventually weak. He strayed as far as he could from the human populace, recognizing that his willpower was weakening, too. For months he wandered by night, seeking the loneliest places, loathing himself.

“One night, a herd of deer passed his hiding place. He was so wild with thirst that he attacked without thought. His strength returned and he realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared. Had he not eaten venison in his former life?” Lena shook her head. “Over the next months his new philosophy was born. He could exist without being a demon. He found himself again.

“He began to make better use of his time. He’d always been intelligent, eager to learn. Now he had unlimited time before him. He studied by night, planned by day. He swam to France and—”

“He swam to France?”

“People swim the Channel all the time, Kara,” Lena responded patiently.

“That’s true, I guess. It just sounded funny in that context. Go on.”

“Swimming is easy for us—”

“Everything is easy for you,” she griped.

Lena waited, her expression amused.

“I won’t interrupt again, I promise.”

Lena chuckled darkly and finished her sentence. “Because, technically, we don’t need to breathe.”

“You—”

“No, no, you promised.” She laughed, putting her cool finger lightly to Kara’s lips. “Do you want to hear the story or not?”

“You can’t spring something like that on me, and then expect me not to say anything,” she mumbled against her finger.

She lifted her hand, moving it to rest against Kara’s neck. The speed of her heart reacted to that, but she persisted.

“You don’t have to breathe?”

“No, it’s not necessary. Just a habit.” She shrugged.

“How long can you go… without breathing?”

“Indefinitely, I suppose; I don’t know. It’s gets a bit uncomfortable being without a sense of smell.”

“A bit uncomfortable,” Kara echoed.

She wasn’t paying attention to her own expression, but something in it made Lena grow somber. Her hand dropped to her side and she stood very still, her eyes intent on Kara’s face. The silence lengthened. Her features were immobile as stone.

“What is it?” Kara whispered, touching her frozen face. Lena’s face softened under her hand, and she sighed.

“I keep waiting for it to happen.”

“For what to happen?”

“I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you’ll run away from me, screaming as you go.” Her mouth quirked into a half smile, but her eyes were still serious. “I won’t stop you. I want this to happen, because I want you and your family to be safe. And yet, I want to be with you. The two desires are impossible to reconcile…” she trailed of, staring at Kara’s face. Waiting.

“I’m not running anywhere,” Kara promised.

“We’ll see,” she responded, smiling again.

Kara frowned at her. “So, go on—Lionel was swimming to France.” Lena paused, getting back into her story. Reflexively, her eyes flickered to another picture—the most colorful of them all, the most ornately framed, and the largest; it was twice as wide as the door it hung next to. The canvas overflowed with bright figures in swirling robes, writhing around long pillars and off marbled balconies. Kara couldn’t tell if it represented Greek mythology, or if the characters floating in the clouds above were meant to be biblical.

“Lionel swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night, he studied music, science, medicine—and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives.” Her expression became awed, almost reverent. “I can’t adequately describe the struggle; it took Lionel two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital…” Lena stared off into space for a long moment. Suddenly she seemed to recall her purpose. She tapped her finger against the huge painting in front of them.

“He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London sewers.” Lena touched a comparatively sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down calmly on the mayhem below them. Kara examined the grouping carefully and realized, with a startled laugh, that she recognized one of the dark-haired men.

“Solimena was greatly inspired by Lionel’s friends. He often painted them as gods,” Lena laughed. “Alexander, Marcus, Caius,” she said, indicating the other three; two black-haired, one snowy-white. “Nighttime patrons of the arts.”

“What happened to them?” Kara wondered aloud, her fingertips hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.

“They’re still there.” She shrugged again. “As they have been for who knows how many millennia. Lionel stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to ‘his natural food source,’ as they called it. They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Lionel decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, you see.

“He didn’t find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if he were one of them. He began practicing medicine. But the companionship he craved evaded him; he couldn’t risk familiarity. Lionel was visiting Ireland when the Potato Famine was as its worst, working nights in a hospital. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act—since he couldn’t find a companion, he would create one. He wasn’t absolutely sure how his own transformation had occurred, so he was hesitant. And he was loath to steal anyone’s life the way his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he found me. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He had dealt with my mother’s remains in the morgue, and knew I was alone. He decided to try…” Her voice dwindled until it was no more than a whisper trailing off. Lena stared unseeingly through the west windows. Kara wondered which images filled her mind now, Lionel’s memories or her own. She waited quietly.

When she turned back to Kara, a gentle angel’s smile lit her expression.

“And so we’ve come full circle,” she concluded.

“Have you always stayed with Lionel, then?” Kara wondered.

“Almost always.” Lena put her hand lightly on Kara’s waist and pulled Kara with her as she walked through the door. Kara stared back at the wall of pictures, wondering if she would ever get to hear the other stories.

Lena didn’t say any more as they walked down the hall, so Kara asked, “Almost?”

She sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. “Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence—about ten years after I was… born… created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn’t sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So, I went off on my own for a time.”

“Really?” Kara was intrigued, rather than disgusted, as she perhaps should have been.

Lena could tell. Kara vaguely realized that they were headed up the next flight of stairs, but she wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings.

“That doesn’t repulse you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I guess… it sounds reasonable.”

Lena half scoffed half laughed, more loudly than before. They were at the top of the stairs now, in another paneled hallway.

“From the time of my new birth,” she mumbled, “I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That’s why it took me ten years to defy Lionel—I could read his perfect sincerity; understand exactly why he lived the way he did.

“It took me only a few years to return to Lionel and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the… depression… that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl—if I saved her, then surely, I wasn’t so terrible.”

Kara imagined only too clearly what Lena described—the alley at night, a young girl, the dark man behind her. And Lena, Lena as she hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?

“But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn’t escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Lionel and Lillian. They welcomed me back like the daughter prodigal. It was more than I deserved.”

They’d come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.

“My room,” she informed Kara, opening it and pulling her through. Lena’s room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. Her view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than Kara would have believed. The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs and books. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind Kara was afraid to touch because she’d be sure to break something. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.

“Good acoustics?” she guessed.

Lena laughed and nodded.

She picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with them. Kara went to look at Lena’s mind-boggling music collection first—her book collection seemed entirely composed of science related textbooks.

“How do you have these organized?” Kara asked, unable to find any rhyme or reason to the titles.

Lena wasn’t paying attention.

“Uh, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame,” she said absently.

She turned, and Lena was looking at her with a peculiar expression in her eyes.

“What?”

“I was prepared to feel… relieved. Having you know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn’t expect to feel more than that. I like it. It makes me… happy.” She shrugged, smiling slightly.

“I’m glad,” Kara smiled back; she’d worried that Lena might regret telling her these things. It was good to know that wasn’t the case. Then, as her eyes dissected Kara’s expression, her smile faded and her forehead creased.

“You’re still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren’t you?” She guessed.

A faint smile touched Lena’s lips, and she nodded.

“I hate to burst you bubble Luthor, but you’re really not as scary as you think you are. I don’t find you scary at all, actually.” Lena stopped, raising her eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then she flashed a wide, wicked smile.

“You really shouldn’t have said that.” she laughed before suddenly an animalistic noise sounded in the back of her throat, almost like a growl. Her lips curled back over her perfect teeth; her body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed like a lion about to pounce.

Kara backed away from her, glaring.

“You wouldn’t.”

Kara’s senses sharpened; she saw Lena leap at her, as if in slow motion. Kara was faster, that she had learned after the meadow.

At the last possible second, Kara stepped aside. Time seemed to speed up as Lena crashed unceremoniously onto the sofa, knocking it into the wall with a loud thud. Kara couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as Lena turned accusing eyes to her as she righted herself on the sofa. Kara approached, more smug than she usually was, even in the heat of Lena’s golden glare.

“That was unfair.”

Kara shrugged, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You are a very, very terrifying monster, Luthor.”

In a swift move, one Kara could have stopped, Lena pulled her into her lap. “Much better.”

“Can we come in?” a soft voice sounded from the hall. It was Sam, then William behind her in the doorway. Kara’s cheeks burned from her precarious position on her lap, but Lena seemed at ease.

“Go ahead.” Lena was still laughing quietly. Sam seemed to find nothing unusual in their embrace; she walked—almost floated, her movements were so graceful—to the center of the room, where she folded herself sinuously on the floor. William, however, paused at the door, his expression a trifle shocked. He stared at Lena’s face, and Kara wondered if he was tasting the atmosphere with his unusual sensitivity.

“It sounded like you were having Kara for lunch, and we came to see if you would share,” Sam announced.

Kara couldn’t help but laugh, and Lena was grinning with ease.

“Sorry, I don’t believe I have enough to spare,” she replied, her arms holding Kara recklessly close.

“Actually,” William said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the room, “Sam says there’s going to be a real storm tonight, and Jack wants to play ball. Are you game?”

The words were common enough, but the context confused Kara. She gathered that Sam was a bit more reliable than the weatherman though. Lena’s eyes lit up, but she hesitated.

“Of course you should bring Kara,” Sam chirped, and Kara caught the quick glance William through at her.

“Do you want to go?” Lena asked her, excited, her expression vivid.

“Sure.” She tried hard to suppress her excitement; she didn’t want to give away anything. But this was her chance to let loose. “Uh, where are we going?”

“We have to wait for thunder to play ball—you’ll see why.” She promised.

“Will I need an umbrella?”

They all three laughed aloud.

“Will she?” William asked Sam.

“No.” she was positive. “The storm will hit over town. It should be dry enough in the clearing.”

“Good, then.” The enthusiasm in William’s voice was catching, naturally. Kara found herself eager.

“Let’s go see if Lionel will come.” Sam gracefully walked to the door in a fashion that would break any runway model’s heart.

“Like you don’t know,” William teased, and they were swiftly on their way. William managed to inconspicuously close the door behind them.

“What will we be playing?”

“You will be watching,” Lena gestured to her ears again; Kara still wasn’t used to other people being able to hear things the way she could. “We will be playing baseball.”

“Vampires like baseball?”

“It’s the American pastime,” she said with mock solemnity.

“You’re not American… nor is Andrea, Jack, William, or Lionel…”

“Potato, potahto.”

Chapter Text

“Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona. Not all holes, or games, are created equal.”

― George Will

It was just beginning to drizzle when Lena turned onto her street. Up until that moment, Kara had no doubt that Lena would be staying with her while she spent a few interim hours in the real world.

And then she saw the black, weathered Ford, parked in Eliza’s driveway—and heard Lena mutter something unintelligible in a low, harsh voice.

Leaning away from the rain under the shallow front porch, Maggie Sawyer stood behind her aunt’s wheelchair. Wyonna’s face was as impassive as stone as Lena parked her truck against the curb. Maggie stared down, her expression flickering between mortified and cocky.

Lena’s low voice was furious. “This is crossing the line.”

“She came to warn Eliza?” Kara guessed, more horrified than angry. Lena just nodded, answering Wyonna’s gaze through the rain with narrowed eyes.

Kara felt weak with relief that Eliza wasn’t home yet.

“Let me deal with this,” Kara suggested. Lena’s black glare made her anxious.

To her surprise, Lena agreed. “That’s probably best. Be careful, though. The child has no idea.”

She bristled a little at the word ‘child.’ “Maggie is close to my age… sort of?”

She looked at Kara then, her anger abruptly fading. “I’m sorry.”

Kara sighed and put her hand on the door handle.

“Get them inside,” Lena instructed, “so I can leave. I’ll be back around dusk.”

“Do you want my truck?” She offered, meanwhile wondering how she could explain its absence to Eliza.

Lena rolled her eyes. “I could walk home faster than this truck moves.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Kara added wistfully.

She smiled at Kara’s glum expression. “Actually, I do. After you get rid of them”—she threw a dark look in the Sawyers’ direction— “you still have to prepare Eliza to meet your new girlfriend.” Lena grinned widely, showing all her teeth.

Kara groaned. “Thanks a lot.”

Lena smirked. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised. Her eyes flickered back to the porch, and then she leaned in to swiftly kiss Kara just under the edge of her jaw. Kara’s heart lurched frantically, and Kara, too, glanced toward the porch. Wyonna’s face was no longer impassive, and her hands clutched at the armrests of her chair.

“Soon,” Kara stressed as she opened the door and stepped out into the rain. She could feel Lena’s eyes on her back as she half-ran through the light sprinkle toward the porch.

“Hey, Wyonna, Hi, Maggie.” She greeted them as cheerfully as she could manage. “Eliza’s gone for the day—I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Not long,” Wyonna said in a subdued tone. Her black eyes were piercing. “I just wanted to bring this up.” She indicated a brown paper sack resting in her lap.

“Thanks,” Kara said, catching the faintest scent of fish. “Why don’t you come in for a minute and dry off?”

She pretended to be oblivious to Wyonna’s intense scrutiny as she unlocked the door and waved them ahead of her.

“Here, let me take that,” she offered, turning to shut the door. Kara allowed herself one last glance at Lena. She was waiting, perfectly still, her eyes solemn.

“You’ll want to put it in the fridge,” Wyonna noted as she handed Kara the package. “It some of Harry Clearwater’s homemade fish fry—one of Eliza’s favorites. The fridge keeps it drier.” She shrugged.

“Thanks,” Kara repeated, but with more feeling than the last. “Eliza didn’t really have fish back home—it was all local, and National City bay doesn’t have the… cleanest… water.”

Wyonna hummed. “Is Eliza still hanging in the usual spots?”

“I uh, I don’t really know what her old haunts were,” Kara quickly lied. She could hear Eliza’s heartbeat nine miles away, could pinpoint the exact place she was. It was always in the foreground, the rhythmic beat of Eliza’s heart, the slightly more erratic beat of Alex’s over a thousand miles away. She was certain that if Lena had a heartbeat, it too would join the symphony of her foreground.

Wyonna eyed Kara, her expression becoming thoughtful.

“Mags,” she said, still appraising Kara. “Why don’t you go get that new picture of Rebecca out of the car? I’ll leave that for Eliza, too.”

Maggie gave an incredulous look, but asked, “Where is it?” Her voice was morose, her eyebrows pulling together as she stared at the floor.

“I think I saw it in the trunk,” she stated, still staring at Kara. “You may have to dig for it.” Maggie slouched back out into the rain.

Wyonna and Kara faced each other in silence. After a few seconds, the quiet started to feel awkward, so Kara turned and headed for the kitchen. She could hear wet wheels squeak against the linoleum as Wyonna followed. Kara shoved the bag onto the crowded top shelf of the fridge and spun to confront Wyonna. Kara wasn’t always confrontational, but she was protective of those she cared about.

“Eliza won’t be back for a long time.” Her voice held an edge of steel, almost rude. Wyonna nodded in agreement but said nothing. “Thanks again for the fish fry,” she hinted, trying to remove the elder Sawyer from her home.

Wyonna continued nodding. Kara sighed and folded her arms across her chest. She seemed to sense that Kara’d given up on small talk.

“Kara,” she said, and then hesitated.

She waited.

“Kara,” Wyonna tried again, “Eliza is one of my best friends.”

“Yes.”

She spoke each word carefully in her low voice. “I noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with one of the Luthors.”

“Yes,” Kara repeated curtly. She could feel heat building behind her eyes steadily, feel the groan of the floor beneath her as her feet threatened to go through it. She was more rigid than she’d ever been, all in the name of Lena Luthor.

Wyonna’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but I don’t think that is such a good idea.”

“You’re right,” Kara agreed. “It’s none of your business.” Wyonna raised her graying eyebrows at her tone.

“Your probably don’t know this, but the Luthor family has an unpleasant reputation on the reservation.”

“Actually, I did know that,” Kara informed her in a hard voice. This surprised Wyonna. “But that reputation couldn’t be deserved, could it? Because the Luthors never set foot on the reservation, do they?” Kara could see that her less than subtle reminder of the agreement that both bound and protected her tribe pulled Wyonna up short.

“That’s true,” she acceded, her eyes guarded. “You seem… well informed about the Luthors. More informed than I expected.”

Kara stared her down. “Maybe even better informed than you are.” Wyonna pursed her full lips as she considered that.

“Maybe.” She allowed, but her eyes were shrewd. “Is Eliza as well informed?” she found the weak chink in Kara’s armor.

“Eliza likes the Luthors a lot,” She hedged, but Wyonna clearly understood her evasion. Her expression was unhappy but unsurprised.

“It’s not my business, but it may be Eliza’s.”

“Thought it would be my business, again, whether or not I think that it’s Eliza’s business, right?”

Kara wondered if Wyonna even understood Kara’s confusing question as she struggled not to say anything too compromising. But she seemed to. She thought about it while the rain picked up against the roof, the only sound breaking the silence.

“Yes,” she finally surrendered. “I guess that’s your business, too.”

Kara sighed in relief. “Thanks, Wyonna.” The heat simmered down; she felt lighter.

“Just think about what you’re doing, Kara,” she urged.

“Okay,” Kara agreed quickly, feeling the anger quickly fade.

Wyonna frowned. “What I meant to say was, don’t do what you’re doing.” Kara looked into her eyes, filled with nothing but concern for Kara, and there was nothing she could say to Wyonna.

The front door banged loudly, and Kara was startled at the sound.

“There’s no picture anywhere in that car.” Maggie’s complaining drawl reached them before she did. The shoulders of Maggie’s shirt were stained with the rain, her hair dripping, when she rounded the corner.

“Hmm,” Wyonna grunted, suddenly detached, spinning her chair around to face her niece. “I guess I left it at home.”

Maggie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Great.”

“Well, Kara, tell Eliza”—Wyonna paused before continuing— “that we stopped by, I mean.”

“I will,” she muttered.

Maggie was surprised. “Are we leaving already?”

“Eliza’s gonna be out late,” Wyonna explained as she rolled herself past Maggie.

“Oh.” Maggie looked disappointed. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then, Kara.”

“Sure,” Kara agreed, and that won her one of Maggie’s signature dimpled smiles.

“Take care,” Wyonna warned her. Kara didn’t answer.

Maggie helped her aunt out the door. Kara waved briefly, glancing swiftly toward her now-empty truck, and then shut the door before they were gone. She stood in the hallway for a minute, listening to the sound of their car as it backed out and drove away. Kara stayed where she was, waiting for the irritation and anxiety to subside. She headed up the stairs to change out of her ’dressy’ clothes. She tried on a couple of different tops, not sure what a baseball game with vampires truly entailed. She gave up quickly—fashion wasn’t her forte—and ended up throwing on an old flannel shirt and jeans. Her phone rang and she reached for it on her bed. She had a small hope it was Lena, though if she wanted to talk to Kara, Lena would probably just materialize in her room.

“Hello?” she asked, mindlessly floating around her room in hunt for a pair of new socks.

“Kara? It’s me,”

“Oh, hey, Nia.” She landed on the floor with a soft thud; it felt like months rather than days since she’d last spoken to Nia. “How was the dance?”

“It was so much fun!” Nia gushed. Needing no more invitation than that, she launched into a minute-by-minute account of the previous night. Kara responded in all the right places, but she was having a hard time concentrating. Nia, Brainy, the dance, the school—they all seemed strangely irrelevant at the moment. Her eyes kept flashing to the window, trying to judge the degree of light behind the heavy clouds.

“Did you hear what I said, Kara?” Nia asked, concerned.

“I’m sorry, what?” She felt like a bad friend for spacing out.

“I said, Brainy kissed me after a slow dance! Can you believe it?”

Kara laughed. “That’s great news, Nia! I’m glad he worked up the nerve again”

“So, what did you do yesterday?” Nia asked, and Kara faintly wished she was speaking to Winn, so she didn’t have to lie.

“Nothing, really. I uh, just hung around outside to enjoy the sun.” She heard Eliza’s car pulling in.

“Did you ever hear anything more from Lena?” her tone was teasing; the front door shut softly.

“Um.” Kara hesitated, not sure what her story was anymore.

“Kara, honey, I’m home!” Eliza called.

Nia heard Eliza’s voice. “Oh, your mom’s there. Never mind—we’ll talk tomorrow. See you in class.”

“Bye, Nia.” She hung up the phone as she walked down the stairs.

“Hey, Eliza.” She was scrubbing her hands in the sink. “Wyonna dropped off some of Harry Clearwater’s fish fry this afternoon.” Kara worked to sound enthusiastic—an unusual occurrence for her.

“She did?” Eliza’s eyes lit up. “I’ll have to get some fish from the fish market tomorrow.”

Kara cleaned up the house a little as Eliza made dinner; it didn’t take long until they were sitting at the table, eating in companionable silence. Eliza was enjoying her food; Kara was wondering desperately how to fulfill her assignment, struggling to think of a way to broach the subject.

“What did you get up to today?” Eliza asked, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Well, this afternoon I just hung around the house…” Only the very recent part of this afternoon, actually. She tried to keep her voice upbeat, but Kara’s stomach was hollow. “And this morning I was over at the Luthors’.” Eliza lowered her fork slowly, her brows knitting together.

“Dr. Luthor’s place?” she asked in astonishment.

Kara pretended not to notice. “Yeah.”

“What were you doing there?” she hadn’t lifted her fork back up.

“Well, I uh, sort of have a date with Lena Luthor tonight, and she w-wanted to introduce me to her parents… Eliza?”

It appeared that Eliza was having an aneurysm.

However, a quick glance over her glasses and a burst of x-ray vision proved otherwise.

“Eliza, are you all right?”

“You are going out with Lena Luthor?” Her voice was incredulous. It was uncanny, unlike Eliza. Kara had never heard that tone from her before.

“I thought you liked the Luthors?”

“She’s too old for you,”

That was unexpected. What was going on with Eliza?

“We’re both juniors,” Kara corrected, though Eliza was more right than she dreamed.

“Wait…” she paused. “Which one is Lara?”

“Lena is the youngest, the girl with the black hair.” The beautiful one, the godlike one…

“Oh, well, that’s”—she struggled, and Kara came to the conclusion that Eliza was trying to make up for the lack of a father figure in the house— “better, I guess. I’m sure the others are nice and all, but they look too… mature for you. Is Lara your girlfriend?”

“It’s Lena, Eliza.”

“Is she?” Yeah, she was definitely making up for the lack of a dad. There was no other explanation for this sudden behavior.

“Sort of, I guess.”

“You said last night that you weren’t interested in any one in town.” But she lifted up her fork again, so Kara could see the worst of the “dad-performance” was over.

“Well, Lena doesn’t live in town, Eliza.”

Eliza gave her a disparaging look as she chewed.

“And anyway,” Kara continued, “it’s kind of at an early stage, y’know. Please don’t embarrass me with the girlfriend talk, okay?”

“When is she coming over?” The uncharacteristic gruffness was gone from Eliza’s voice, but she was still clearly concerned.

“She’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Where is she taking you?”

Kara groaned loudly. “Eliza. We’re going to play baseball with her family.” Her eyebrows raised, and then she laughed.

“You’re playing baseball?”

“Well, I’ll probably watch most of the time. I know I have to be careful with my powers.”

“You must really like this girl,” she observed, suspiciously. Kara sighed and rolled her eyes for Eliza’s benefit.

Kara heard the roar of an engine pull up in front of the house. Kara jumped up and started cleaning her dishes, her excitement threatening to bubbly over.

“Leave the dishes, I can do them tonight.” The doorbell rang, and Eliza moved to answer it. Kara was half a step behind her.

She hadn’t realized how hard it was pouring outside. Lena stood in the halo of the porch light, looking like a female model in an advertisement for raincoats.

“Come on in, Lena.”

Kara breathed a sigh of relief when Eliza got her name right.

“Thanks, Doctor Danvers.” Lena responded in a respectful tone, all hints of her Irish nature gone from her voice. It was uncanny—the fluid American accent that she never kept up with in Kara’s presence.

“Go ahead and call me Eliza. Here, I’ll take your jacket.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

“Have a seat there, Lena.”

Kara grimaced.

Lena sat down fluidly in the only chair, forcing Kara to sit next to Eliza on the sofa. She quickly shot Lena a dirty look; she winked behind Eliza’s back.

“So I hear you’re getting my girl to watch baseball.” Only in Washington would the fact that it was raining buckets have no bearings at all on the playing of outdoor sports.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the plan.” She didn’t look surprised that Kara’s had told Eliza the truth. She might have been listening.

“Well, more power to you, I guess.”

Eliza laughed, and Lena joined in.

“Okay.” Kara stood up, her cheeks flaming. “Enough humor at my expense. Let’s go.” Kara walked back to the hall and pulled on her jacket; they followed.

“Not too late, Kar.”

“Don’t worry, Eliza, I’ll have her home early,” Lena promised.

“You take care of my girl, all right?”

Kara groaned but they ignored her.

“She’ll be safe with me, I promise, ma’am.”

Eliza couldn’t doubt Lena’s sincerity, it rang in every word. Kara stalked out, embarrassed. They both laughed, and Lena followed her. Kara stopped dead on the porch. There, behind her truck, was a monster Jeep. Its tires were up to her waist. There were metal guards over the headlights and taillights, and four large spotlights attached to the crash bar. The hardtop was shiny red.

“Wear your seat belts,” Eliza called behind her.

Lena followed Kara around to her side and opened the door. In one fluid movement, Kara hopped into the seat that was high off the ground. As Lena went around to the driver’s side, at a normal, human pace, Kara tried to put on her seatbelt. There were too many buckles.

“What’s all this?” she asked when Lena opened the door.

“It’s an off roading harness.”

“Really?”

Kara tried to find the right places for all the buckles to fit, but it wasn’t going too quickly. Lena sighed and reached over to help her. Kara was glad the rain was too heavy for human eyes to see through. That meant Eliza couldn’t see how Lena’s hands lingered at her neck, brushed along her collarbones. She gave up trying to help her and focused on her breathing.

Lena turned the key and the engine roared to life. They pulled away from the house.

“This is a… um… big Jeep you have.”

“It’s Jack’s. I didn’t think you’d want to run the whole way and reveal yourself to the family. Not nearly as dramatic as I’d hoped.”

“Where do you keep this thing?”

“We remodeled one of the outbuildings into a garage.”

“Aren’t you going to put on your seat belt?”

Lena threw her a disbelieving look.

Then something sunk in.

“Run the whole way? As in, we’re still going to run part of the way?”

Lena grinned tightly. “In the name of secrecy of your alienness, you’re not going to run.”

“So… you’re going to… carry me…?” she drawled slowly, feeling mortified at the idea.

“You’ll be fine. Then you can show my family up at baseball.”

“How’d you know I was gonna reveal myself during baseball?” She watched Lena’s face carefully, but she simply shrugged.

“I could see it in your eyes earlier.”

Kara bit her lip and Lena leaned over to kiss Kara’s cheek, and then groaned. Kara looked at her, puzzled.

“You smell so good in the rain,” she explained.

“In a good way, or in a bad way?” Kara asked cautiously.

Lena sighed. “Both, always both.”

Kara watched the trees pass by as Lena found her way in the gloom and downpour, eventually turning on a side road that was less of a road and more of a mountain path. For a long while conversation was impossible, because Kara was bouncing along in her seat like a jackhammer. Lena seemed to enjoy the ride, though, smiling hugely the whole way.

Eventually they came to the end of the road; the trees formed green walls on three sides of the Jeep. The rain was a mere drizzle, slowing every second, the sky brighter through the clouds.

“We have to go on foot from here.”

“You know what?” I’ll just wait here—I’m not sure I could take the embarrassment of you carrying me.”

“What happened to all your courage? You were extraordinary this morning.” Lena teased, finding a little too much joy in Kara’s embarrassment.

She was around Kara’s side of the car in a blur, unbuckling Kara. “I’ll get those, you go on ahead.” She protested.

“Hmm…” she mused as she quickly finished. “It seems I’m going to have to tamper with your mind.”

Before Kara could react to that, Lena pulled her from the Jeep and set her feet on the ground. It was barely misting now; Sam was going to be right.

“Tamper with my mind?” Kara asked nervously.

“Something like that.” Lena was watching her intently, carefully, but there was humor deep in her green eyes. She placed her hands against the Jeep on either side of Kara’s head and leaned forward, forcing Kara to press her back against the now closed door. Lena leaned in even closer, her face inches from Kara’s. She had no room to escape.

“Now,” Lena breathed, and just her smell alone disturbed Kara’s thought processes. “What exactly are you worrying about?”

“Well, um, hitting a tree—” Kara floundered “—and dying… and uh, some—something else?”

Lena fought back a smile. Then she bent her head slightly up and touched her cool lips softly to the hollow at the base of Kara’s throat.

“Are you still worried now?” she murmured against Kara’s skin.

“Yes.” She struggled to concentrate. “About hit—hitting trees and death.” Her nose drew a line up the skin of Kara’s throat to the point of her chin. Her cool breath tickled Kara’s skin.

“And now?” Her lips whispered against her jaw.

“Trees,” Kara gasped. Lena lifted her face to kiss Kara’s eyelids.

“Kara, you don’t really think I would hit a tree, do you?”

“No, but I might.” There was no confidence in her voice. Lena smelled an easy victory.

She kissed slowly down Kara’s cheek, stopping just at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re invulnerable, but do you really think I’d let you hit a tree?” Her lips barely brushed against Kara’s.

“No,” she breathed. Kara knew there was a second part to her brilliant defense, but she couldn’t quite call it back.

“You see,” Lena said, her lips ghosting against Kara’s. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, is there?”

“No,” Kara sighed, giving up.

Then Lena took her face in her hands almost roughly, and kissed Kara in earnest, her unyielding lips moving against Kara’s.

There really was no excuse for Kara’s behavior. Obviously, she knew better by now, and yet, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from reacting exactly as she had the first time. Instead of keeping safely motionless, her arms twined tightly around Lena’s neck, and she was suddenly welded to her stone figure. Kara went to deepen the kiss, and then sighed as Lena staggered slightly , her breath still ghosting against Kara’s lips.

“Kara,” she was gasping. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear you will.”

“You’re indestructible too.” Kara breathed, pulling her back just as roughly as the kiss before, reigniting the heat of the kiss. It was handsy and passionate, not at all soft, and they only broke apart when the sound of metal bending interrupted them.

“I might have believed that before I met you. Now let’s get out of here before I do something really stupid.” A soft growl emanated from Lena’s throat as she extricated herself. Then her eye flickered to the Jeep. “Oh, Jack’s going to kill me.”

Kara examined the damage. The indent of her body was pressed into the door, and handprints were wrought into the surface where Lena had braced herself.

“Whoops?”

Without further convincing, Kara hopped onto Lena’s back, locking her legs around her waist and secured her arms in a chokehold around Lena’s neck.

Kara tucked her face into Lena’s shoulder blade, squeezing her eyes shut as she breathed in the scent of Lena and tried to calm her frantic heart.

She could barely tell they were moving with her eyes closed. She could feel Lena gliding along beneath her, but Lena could have been strolling down the sidewalk, the movement was so smooth.

Kara wasn’t quite sure they had stopped until Lena reached back and touched her hair. “We’re here Kara.” She opened her eyes, and sure enough, they were at a standstill. Kara unlocked her stranglehold on Lena’s body and slipped to the ground, landing on her backside. Clearly, she wasn’t able to calm down just yet; she was unnecessarily clumsy.

Kara huffed as she hit the wet ground.

Lena stared at her incredulously, evidently not sure whether she was still too upset to find Kara funny. But her bewildered expression pushed Lena over the edge, and she broke into a roar of laughter.

Kara picked herself up, ignoring Lena as she brushed the mud and bracken off the back of her jacket. That only made Lena laugh harder. Annoyed, Kara began to stride off into the forest, following the sound of chatter. She felt Lena’s arm around her waist.

“Where are you going, Kara?”

“To a baseball game.”

Kara continued to walk away but Lena grabbed her again. “Don’t be mad, I couldn’t help myself. You should have seen your face.” She laughed before she could stop herself.

“Are you the only one who’s allowed to get mad?” Kara asked, raising her eyebrows.

Lena softened. “I wasn’t mad at you.”

“You were mad. I don’t know about you, but I can smell… pheromones.” She recalled the bitter-scent emanating off of Lena.

“I’m never angry with you—how could I be? Brave, trusting… warm as you are.”

“Then why?” she whispered, feeling like the wind was knocked out of her.

Lena put her hands carefully on both of Kara’s shoulders. “I infuriate myself.” She replied gently. “It feels impossible to stop myself. I know I can’t actually hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have that… thirst. That… instinct to sink in my teeth. It makes me hate myself. I should be stronger, I just be able to—” Kara placed her hand over her mouth.

“Don’t.” Lena took her hand, moving it from her lips, but holding it to her face.

“I love you,” she said. “It’s a poor excuse, but it’s still true.”

It was the first time Lena said she loved her—in so many words. Lena might not realize it, but Kara certainly did.

Lena softly brushed her lips against Kara’s.

She held perfectly still this time, trying to make it easier for Lena before she eventually sighed against the Luthor.

“You promised Eliza that you would have me home early, remember? We’d better get going.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lena smiled wistfully and released all of Kara but one hand. She led her a few feet through the tall, wet ferns, and draping moss, around a massive hemlock tree, and they were there, on the edge of an enormous open field in the lap of the Olympic peaks. It was twice the size of any baseball stadium.

Kara could see the others all there; Lillian, Jack, and Andrea, sitting on a bare outcropping of rock, were the closest to them, maybe a hundred yards away. Much farther out she could see William and Sam, at least a quarter mile apart, appearing to throw something back in forth; Kara realized it was a ball moving at blinding speed between them. Lionel was marking bases, but could they really be that far apart?

When they came into view, the three on the rocks rose.

Lillian started toward them. Jack followed after a long look at Andrea’s back; Andrea had risen gracefully and strode off toward the field without a glance in their direction.

“Was that you we heard, Lena?” Lillian asked as she approached.

“It sounded like a bear choking,” Jack clarified.

Kara smiled hesitantly at Lillian. “That was her.”

“Kara was being unintentionally funny,” Lena explained, quickly settling the score.

Sam had left her position and was running toward them. She hurtled to a fluid stop at their feet. “It’s time,” she announced, and as soon as she spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond them, and then crashed westward toward town.

“Eerie, isn’t it?” Jack questioned with easy familiarity, winking at Kara.

“Let’s go.” Sam reached for Jack’s hand, and they darted toward the oversized field. Jack was nearly as graceful and just as fast as her.

“Are you ready for some ball?” Lena asked, her eyes eager, bright.

Kara tried to sound appropriately enthusiastic past the nervous ball in her stomach. “Go team!” Lena snickered and, after musing Kara’s hair, bounded off after the other two. Her run was more aggressive, a cheetah rather than a gazelle, and she quickly overtook the others.

“Shall we go down?” Lillian asked in a soft, melodic voice. Kara nodded and they began walking, Lillian kept a few feet between them, and Kara wondered if she was still being careful not to frighten her. She matched her stride to Kara’s without seeming impatient at their human pace.

“You don’t play with them?” she asked shyly.

“No, I prefer to referee—I like keeping them honest,” she explained.

“Do they like to cheat?”

“Oh yes—you should hear the arguments they get into. Actually, I hope you don’t, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves.”

“You sound like my adoptive mom,” Kara laughed, surprised.

She laughed too. “Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways. I never could get over my mothering instincts—did Lena ever tell you I had lost a child?”

“No,” Kara whispered, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was remembering.

“Yes, my first and only baby. He died just a few days after he was born, the poor small thing,” she sighed. “It broke my heart—that’s why I jumped off the cliff, you know,” she added matter-of-factly.

“Lena just said you f-fell.” Kara stammered.

“Always the gentlewoman.” She smiled. “Lena was the first of my new children. I’ve always thought of her that way, even though she’s older than I, in one way at least.” She smiled warmly. “That’s why I’m so happy that she’s found you, dear.” The endearment sounded natural on her lips.

“You don’t mind, then?” Kara asked, hesitantly again. “That I’m… all wrong for her?”

“No.” She was thoughtful. “You’re what she wants. It will work out, somehow,” she said, though her forehead creased with worry. Another peal of thunder began.

Lillian stopped then; they’d reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they had formed teams. Lena was far out in left field, Lionel stood between first and second bases, and Sam held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher’s mound. Jack was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled through the air. Kara waited for him to approach home plate, but then she realized, as he took his stance, that he was already there—farther from the pitcher’s mound than Kara could have thought possible. William stood several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves.

“Would you like to referee this time?” Lillian asked her and Kara gave her a smile.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could play.” Six heads all whipped toward Kara—everyone but Lena who was smirking discreetly. Or, as discrete as a smug Lena Luthor could be.

“Uh, Kara, I don’t know.” Sam said hesitantly, tossing the ball haphazardly in her hand. “I mean, I throw pretty hard.” In demonstration, she stood deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand flicked out and the ball smashed into the bat. The crack of the impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed off the mountains—Kara immediately understood the necessity of the thunderstorm.

The ball shot like a meter above the field, flying deep into the surrounding forest. No one moved however, turning back to Kara with impish smiles after their demonstration.

Kara squared her shoulders and smiled knowingly. Sam seemed bewildered—well, all of them seemed bewildered aside from Lena.

Sam sent Lena a questioning look, but Lena nodded confidently, her face having smoothed back into that familair mask of neutrality. Jack shrugged before suddenly standing next to Kara and handing over the bat. Kara walked the distance at a human pace, trying to get used to the feel and the weight of the bat. It definitely wasn’t a normal bat—she wouldn’t doubt it if the Luthors had a bat specifically designed for occasions like this.

“It’s your head. I’m not gonna make it easy.” Sam muttered and Lena was then a few feet away from Kara, assumingly to reassure Sam that she was there to stop the ball from hitting Kara.

Kara swung the bat a few times before nodding to Sam that she was ready. Sam grabbed a spare ball, then struck again at an incredible speed and Kara swung for it, missing. Kara shook her head, catching the arc of the ball returning to Sam before she tried again. Lillian called a strike.

“You got this,” Lena encouraged to Kara’s right.

The next throw ended in another strike and Kara grit her teeth. She wasn’t used to the physicality of the motion, but her senses were too dull, too human. “Lena? Take these.” She pulled her glasses off, shoving them into Lena’s awaiting grasp. If she was going to play baseball with vampires, she needed her senses to be uninhibited. Everything sharpened instantly, her sight, her smell, her sense of feeling, her brain’s processing power; everything was amplified with the absence of lead. It used to be a curse for her, but she was learning to embrace every part of herself the longer she spent around Lena’s careless use of abilities.

“Again!” Kara called, but Sam’s forehead was creased with worry.

“I’m not sure being unable to see the ball is going to help.” Kara snickered and adjusted her footing.

“Scared to lose?” She wasn’t sure where the confidence came from, but it surged through her like a tsunami.

Sam laughed easily. “You’ve got a stubborn one, Lena.”

Kara did a few more practice swings, focusing on the movement and vibrations as the object cut through the air. “Ready.”

Sam sighed before a deadly whistle cut through the air as the ball was released from her grip. Kara waited a second longer than last time, calculating distance and swing force before she put everything she had into it. In a thunderous echo, the ball collided with the bat before it soared passed Sam at a wicked speed. It all took them a moment to react, alarmed by the speed and force Kara had sent the ball hurdling.

Like a rocket, Kara started running. In less than a second, she stood back on the home plate. “Now what?” Lena was smiling with pride, shrugging.

“Looks like you made a home run.” She made a sweeping gesture and Kara realized why. Everyone was standing stock still, expressions riddled with shock.

“That’s curious,” she caught Lionel mutter to no one in particular.

“What the hell?” It was Andrea this time, her brows furrowed deeply and her eyes intense.

“Does that mean I can play?” Kara asked, her jaw clenched tightly in fear that she had ruined their fun.

“Of course,” Lionel breathed. “Do you mind my asking what you are?” He glanced at Lena who smirked in return.

“You smell human,” William noted.

“I’m uh, I’m an alien.” Kara smiled awkwardly, casting a glance at Lena. “My planet is—was — Krypton, two light years away. The yellow Sun on Earth grants me powers.”

“You’re an alien?” Sam was shocked, and Kara couldn’t help but wonder how a vampire who could see the future didn’t see that coming.

“Aliens are real?” Was Jack’s breath of a response.

“Yup,” Kara popped the ‘p’, nervously bouncing on the balls of her feet as the Luthors, still as statues, processed this information.

After a long stretch of silence, Lena said in lieu of any discussion, “I vouch for her.”

Lionel nodded once, seeming to collect his wits again before standing in front of Kara within in a span of her thunderous heartbeat. “Welcome to the family, Kara.” His pale hand was outreached, an offering that Kara easily took as she shook his cool hand. His eyes were full of sincerity as he spoke, “I promise to guard your secret, as we have trusted you with ours.”

“Thank you,” her smile was small, but genuine. She couldn’t understand how they accepted this fact so easily and without question. It didn’t make sense to her, yet here she was, standing on a baseball field with the impossible. Maybe it wasn’t hard to believe in the impossible when you were the impossible.

“I think we have a better runner than Lena,” Sam smirked in a teasing tone, but Kara could see the meaning behind it; it was another acceptance of Kara and what she was.

“I’m announcing now that Kara is always on my team for any future games.” Andrea spoke from her side of the field, and surprisingly, there was no sarcastic snark in her tone. Kara considered that maybe, Kara not being human, was all she needed to win the cynical vampire over.

When it was settled and they all took their places around the field with Lillian as the referee, the game commenced.

Kara soon learned that Jack hit the hardest, and that Lena was the fastest of the Luthors. She also learned the other reason they waited for thunderstorms to play, when she, trying to avoid Lena’s infallible fielding, hit a ground ball toward Lionel. Lionel ran into the ball and then raced Kara to first base. When she collided with the man, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders. Lena had whirled her head around in concern at the commotion but seemed smitten to see Kara and Lionel unscathed.

“Safe,” Lillian had called in a calm voice.

Jack’s team was up by one—Andrea managed to flit around the bases after tagging up on one of Jack’s long flies—when Lena caught the third out. In the brief moment, she had sprinted to Kara’s side, sparkling with excitement as Kara let out a winded breath. She had never stretched her powers in such a way, and it was exhilarating, but she was starving and beginning to tire after not having used her powers like this ever.

“What do you think?” she inquired, her smile dazzling.

Kara’s responding smile was just as brilliant. “One thing’s for sure, I’ll never be able to consider a dull old Major League Baseball game again.”

In a crass display of public affection that shocked Kara, Lena gave a gentle kiss to her lips before darting over to bat next, a laugh filling the air.

Lena infuriatingly played intelligently—as Kara was vetoed from being allowed on Lena’s team after one too many instances of Kara flying to aide in Lena’s efforts—and kept the ball low, out of reach of Andrea’s always ready-hand in the outfield, gaining two bases like lightning before Jack could rocket the ball into Kara’s palm. Lionel knocked one so far out of the field—with a deafening boom that hurt Kara’s ears—that he and Lena, both made it in. Sam whooped as she gave them each a high five, their joyous laughter filling the clearing. The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they razzed each other like any street ballplayers as they took turns with the lead. Occasionally Lillian would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, and they stayed dried, as Sam predicted, but Kara was covered in mud and grass stains, her clothes a little more tattered than when she had begun after speeding through the forest to catch runaway balls, and after several collisions with the Luthors during the plays, one thunderous crack after another, she was looking worse for wear.  She was having an amazing time, covered in grime, as she laughed after Sam made a comment about Jack’s poor batting skills. Kara had never felt more free, and dare she say, more accepted, in her life. She loved Alex and Eliza with all her heart, but it was nothing like this. Kara Danvers wasn’t human, and while that reality ravaged her mind every day, she was also becoming more comfortable being Kara Zor-El each day she spent with Lena Luthor. She felt like a new person.

But there fun quickly came to an end. Lionel was up to bat, Lena catching, when Sam suddenly gasped. Kara’s eyes were on Lena, as usual, and saw Lena’s head snap up to look at Sam. Their eyes met and something flowed between them in an instant. Lena was at her side before the other could ask Sam what was wrong.

“Sam?” Lillian’s voice was tense, a brittle edge to it.

“I didn’t see—I couldn’t tell,” she whispered, almost frantic as all the others gathered.

“What is it, Sam?” Lionel asked with a calm voice of authority.

“They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before,” she muttered, her brows furrowed.

Andrea was muttering in Spanish— “…pinche nómadas... no deberían estar aquí...” –leaning over Sam protectively before switching to English. “What changed?”

“They heard us playing, and it changed their path,” Sam explained, contritely, as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her. Seven pair of quick golden eyes flashed to Kara’s face and away.

“How soon?” Lionel questioned, turning toward Lena. A look of intense concentration crossed her face.

“Less than five minutes. They’re running—they want to play.” Lena scowled.

“Can you make it?” Lionel asked, his gaze flicking toward Kara again. Slowly the puzzle pieces were coming together in Kara’s mind. Other vampires.

“No. I’d have to carry her to not risk them… finding out…” that she’s an alien, was left unspoken. “Besides, the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting. That could have unforeseen problems.”

“How many?” Jack inquired, leaning towards Sam with his arms crossed.

“Three,” she answered tersely.

“Three!” he scoffed; his English accent more pronounced than usual. “Let them come.” The steel bands of muscle flexed along his massive arms.

For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Lionel deliberated. Only Jack seemed unperturbed; the rest stared at Lionel’s face with anxious eyes.

“Let’s just continue the game,” Lionel finally decided, his voice cool and level. “Sam said they were simply curious.” All of this was said in a flurry of words that lasted only a second. Kara caught all of it, her brow furrowed in worry. Then Lillian had asked Lena something with a mere thought, and Kara was only able to understand the slight shake of Lena’s head and the relief on Lillian’s face.

“You catch, Lillian,” Lena announced. “I’ll call it now.” And she planted herself in front of Kara, effectively dismissing her from the game. Kara understood that it was partly Lena’s protective nature, and also partly to make Kara seem human in front of the approaching vampires.

The others returned to the field, warily sweeping the dark forest with sharp, blazing, eyes. Sam and Lillian seemed to orient themselves around where Kara stood.

Kara stated the obvious, “The others are coming now.”

“Yes, stay very still, keep quiet, and don’t move from my side, please.” Lena hid the stress in her voice well, but Kara could hear it in the way her accent lilted out more thickly. Lena pulled Kara’s long hair forward, around her face.

“That won’t help,” Sam said softly. “I could smell her across the field.”

“I know.” A hint of frustration colored Lena’s tone. Lionel stood at the makeshift home plate, and the others joined the game halfheartedly.

“What did Lillian ask you?” Kara whispered, glancing at the matriarch and then back to Lena’s golden eyes.

Lena hesitated before answering, “Whether they were thirsty,” came the unwilling mutter.

The seconds ticked by; the game progressed with apathy now. No one dared to hit harder than a bunt, and Jack, Andrea, and William hovered in the infield. Now and again, Kara was aware of Andrea’s eyes on her. They were expressionless, but something about the way she held her mouth made Kara think she was angry, but whether it was general anger, or anger towards Kara, she wasn’t sure. Lena paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind ranging the forest.

“I’m sorry, Kara,” Lena whispered fiercely, her eyes a solid, golden fire. “It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I’m so sorry.”

Kara heard Lena’s breath stop, and her eyes zeroed in on right field. Lena took a half step, angling herself between Kara and what was coming. Lionel, Jack, and the others turned in the same direction, all of them hearing the sounds of passage through the forest.

Chapter Text

“There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.”

― Ernest Hemingway

They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters apart. The first male into the clearing fell back immediately, allowing the other male to take the front, orienting himself around the tall, dark-haired man in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The third was a woman; the distance made no difference to Kara’s eyesight, but the most startling thing about her was her blonde hair. It was nearly fluorescent.

They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Lena’s family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.

As they approached, Kara took note of how different they seemed from the Luthors. Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers: jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, waterproof fabrics. The clothes were frayed, though, with wear, and they were barefoot. Both men had short, somewhat messy hair, but the woman’s brilliant golden hair was filled with leaves and debris from the woods.

Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of Lionel, who, flanked by Jack and William, stepped guardedly forward to meet them. Without any seeming communication between them, they straightened into a more causal, erect bearing.

While they were all beautiful in their own vampiric way, the three of them seemed entirely ordinary when compared to the Luthor family. The man in front had marginally neater hair than the other, its color black and glossy. He was of medium build, hard muscled, of course, but nothing next to Jack’s brawn. He smiled easily, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth. The woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the men facing her, and the loose grouping around Kara, her chaotic hair quivering in the slight breeze. Her posture was distinctly feline. The second male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his dark brown hair and regular features both nondescript. His eyes, though completely still, somehow seemed the most vigilant.

Their eyes were different too. Not the gold or black, or human colors Kara had come to expect, but a deep burgundy color that was disturbing and sinister. The black-haired man, still smiling, stepped toward Lionel.

“We thought we heard a game,” he said in a relaxed voice with the slightest of southern drawls. “I’m Otis, these are Eve and Benjamin.” He gestured to the vampires beside him.

“I’m Lionel. This is my family, Jack and William, Andrea and Lillian, Sam, Lena and Kara.” He pointed them out in groups, deliberately not calling attention to individuals. Kara felt a shock run through her as Lionel casually mentioned Kara to be a part of his family.

“Do you have room for a few more players?” Otis asked sociably.

Lionel matched Otis’ friendly tone. “Actually, we were just finishing up. But we’d certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?”

“We’re headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven’t run into any company in a long time.”

“No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves.”

The tense atmosphere had slowly subsided into a casual conversation; Kara guessed that William was using his peculiar gift to control the situation.

“What’s your hunting range?” Otis casually inquired; Kara watched as Lionel ignored the assumption behind the inquiry. “The Olympic Range here, up and down the coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent residence nearby. There’s another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali.

Otis rocked back on his heels slightly. “Permanent? How do you manage that.” There was honest curiosity in his voice.

“Why don’t you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably?” Lionel invited. “It’s a rather long story.” Benjamin and Eve exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word “home,” but Otis controlled his expression better.

“That sounds very interesting, and welcome.” His smile was genial. “We’ve been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven’t had the chance to clean up in a while.” His eyes moved appreciatively over Lionel’s grass stained, but refined appearance.

“Please don’t take offense, but we’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand,” Lionel explained.

“Of course.” Otis nodded. “We certainly won’t encroach on your territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway,” He laughed, and Kara felt a shiver run up her spine at the callus mention of lives lost.

“We’ll show you the way if you’d like to run with us—Jack and Sam, you can go with Lena and Kara to get the Jeep,” he casually added. Three things seemed to happen simultaneously while Lionel was speaking. Kara’s hair ruffled with the light breeze, Lena stiffened, and the second male, Benjamin, suddenly whipped his head around, scrutinizing Kara, his nostrils flaring.

A swift rigidity fell on all of them as Benjamin lurched one step forward into a crouch. Lena bared her teeth, crouching in defense, a feral snarl ripping from her throat.

It was nothing like the playful sounds Kara had heard from Lena this morning; it was the single most menacing thing she had ever heard.

“What’s this?” Otis exclaimed in open surprise. Neither Benjamin nor Lena relaxed their aggressive poses. Benjamin feinted slightly to the side, and Lena shifted in response.

“She’s with us.” Lionel’s firm rebuff was directed toward Benjamin. Otis seemed to catch Kara’s scent less powerfully than Benjamin, but awareness now dawned on his face.

“You brought a snack?” he asked, expression incredulous as he took an involuntary step forward.

Lena snarled even more ferociously, harshly, and animalistic, her lip curling high above her glistening, bared teeth. Otis stepped back again.

“I said she’s with us,” Lionel corrected in a hard voice.

“But she’s human,” Otis protested. The words were not at all aggressive, merely astounded.

“Yes.” Jack was very much in evidence at Lionel’s side, his eyes on Benjamin. Benjamin slowly straightened out of his crouch, but his eyes never left Kara, his nostrils still flaring. Lena stayed tense like a lion in front of her.

When Otis spoke, his tone was soothing— trying to defuse the sudden hostility. “It appears we have a lot to learn about each other.”

“Indeed.” Lionel’s voice was still cool.

“But we’d like to accept your invitation.” His eyes flickered toward Kara and back to Lionel. “And, of course, we will not harm the human girl. We won’t hunt in your range, as I said.”

Benjamin glanced in disbelief and aggravation at Otis and exchanged another brief look with Eve, whose eyes still flickered edgily from face to face.

Lionel measured Otis’ open expression for a moment before he spoke.

“We’ll show you the way. William, Andrea, Lillian?” he called. They gathered together blocking Kara from view as they converged. Sam was instantly at Kara’s side, and Jack fell back slowly, his eyes locked on Benjamin as he backed toward them.

“Let’s go, Kara.” Lena’s voice was low and bleak. This whole time, Kara had been rooted in place, thinking of a dozen different outcomes to the situation, and trying to appear as human as possible. If it came down to it, Kara wanted the element of surprise on her side. Realistically, she had no idea if she could take on a vampire, let alone three, and she had no idea how vampires faired against other vampires. Lena had to grip her elbow and pull sharply to break her trance. Kara had to consciously make herself budge, having been rooted to the spot by sheer Kryptonian strength. Sam and Jack were close behind them, behind Kara. She stumbled alongside Lena, still stunned. Lena’s impatience was almost tangible as they moved at a human speed to the forest edge.

Once they were in the trees, and safely away from the outsiders, they took off, all flanking Kara as they plunged into the now-black forest like wraiths. Kara glanced over—the sense of exhilaration that usually seemed to possess Lena as she ran was completely absent, replaced by a fury that consumed her and drove her faster.

They reached the Jeep in an impossibly short time, and Lena barely slowed as she directed Kara to the backseat. Sam was already in the front seat, Jack having slid in next to Kara, and Lena was starting the engine. It roared to life, and they swerved backward, spinning around to face the winding road.

Lena was growling something under her breath, and Kara had a feeling it was a string of profanities in about a dozen different languages.

The jolting trip was much worse this time, and Kara had to actively make herself “fly downward” to stay rooted in the seat without the safety harness. They hit the main road and their speed increased. Kara noticed they were heading south—away from Forks.

“Where are we going?” Kara asked, leaning forward in her seat.

No one answered. No one even looked at her.

“Dammit, Lena! Where are you taking me?”

Lena seemed to be startled only slightly at Kara’s word choice. “We have to get you away from here—far away—now.” Lena didn’t look back, her eyes were on the road. The speedometer read a hundred and five miles an hour.

“Turn around!” Kara demanded, “You have to take me home!” It was a near shout as worry over Eliza overtook her. She started to move, forcing her way to the front.

“Jack.” Lena said grimly.

And Jack secured her hands in his steely grasp. But Kara was stronger and pushed him back with a sickly creak of marble, her eyes blazing with the threat of heat vision.

“No! Lena! No, you can’t do this.”

Sam and Jack were staring at her worriedly, surprise etched into their faces all the same.

“I have to, Kara, now please be quiet.” Lena’s voice sounded almost exhausted.

“I won’t!” Kara rebutted, her eyes brightening and the leather of the seat tearing under her grasp. “You have to take me back! You, you have no idea what this will do to Alex, to Eliza—after everything they’ve been through—”

“Calm down, Kara.” Lena’s infliction had never been so cold, so calculated and haughty, until now.

The entirely of the dark vehicle was illuminated by Kara’s threatening glare, the heat converging over her face with more intensity than it ever had.

Sam spoke for the first time, trying to deescalate. “Lena, pull over.” Lena flashed her a hard look, and then sped up.

“Lena, let’s just talk this through.”

“You don’t understand,” Lena roared in frustration. Kara had never heard Lena’s voice so loud; it was deafening and heartbreaking in the confines of the Jeep. Lena was panicking. The speedometer neared one hundred and fifteen. “He’s a tracker, Sam, did you see that? He’s a tracker!”

Kara felt Jack stiffen next to her, and she wondered at his reaction to the word. It meant something more to the three of them than it did to Kara; she wanted to understand, but there was no opening for her to ask.

“Pull over, Lena.” Sam’s tone was reasonable, but there was a ring of authority in it that Kara had never heard before.

The speedometer inched past one-twenty.

“Do it, Lena.”

“Listen to me, Sam. I saw his mind. Tracking is his passion, his obsession—and he wants her, Sam—her, specifically. He begins the hunt tonight, and when he realizes that he can’t kill her, you know where he’ll go next.”

Kara’s eyes dimmed slightly. Lena was worried about Kara’s family.

“He doesn’t know where—”

Lena interrupted her. “How long do you think it will take him to cross her scent in town? His plan was already set before the words were out of Otis’ mouth.”

Kara’s jaw clenched, her eyes brightening again. “You can’t leave Eliza here. You can’t leave her!” She refused to lose another mother.

“She’s right” Sam added softly.

The car slowed slightly.

“Let’s just look at our options for a minute,” Sam coaxed. The car slowed again, more noticeably, and then suddenly they screeched to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. It was by sheer force of will that Kara didn’t get thrown around at the force of the stop. She was grateful Jack hadn’t said anything about the damage she was wreaking on his Jeep.

“There are no options,” Lena hissed, her eyes furious.

“I’m not leaving Eliza.” Kara ground out, her heat vision flickering in warning.

Lena ignored her completely, unfazed by the dangerous energy behind Kara’s eyes.

“We have to take her back,” Jack finally spoke.

“No.” Lena was absolute.

“He’s no match for us, Lena. He won’t be able to touch her or her family.”

“He’ll wait.”

Jack smiled. “I can wait, too.”

“You didn’t see—you don’t understand. Once he commits to a hunt, he’s unshakable. We’d have to kill him.”

Jack didn’t seem upset by the idea. “That’s an option.

“And the woman. She’s with him. If it turns into a fight, the leader will go with them too.”

“There are enough of us, plus Kara.”

“There’s another option,” Sam said quietly.

Lena turned on her in calculated fury, her voice a cold, condescending snarl—each word forcefully enunciated. “There is no other option!”

Jack and Kara stared at Lena in shock, but Sam seemed unsurprised. The silence lasted for a long minute and Lena and Sam stared each other down.

Kara broke it. “Does anyone want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Lena responded flatly. Sam glared at her, finally provoked.

“Listen,” Kara pleaded. “You take me back—”

“No,” Lena interrupted.

Kara sent a burst of heat vision on the steering wheel, forcing Lena to acknowledge her. “You take me back. I tell Eliza I want to go visit Alex in National City. I pack my bags. We wait till this tracker is watching, and then we run. He’ll follow and leave Eliza alone. Eliza won’t be suspicious of anything. Then you can take me any damned place you want.

They stared at Kara, stunned.

“It’s not a bad idea, really.” Jack’s surprise was slightly insulting.

“It might work—and we simply can’t leave her mother unprotected. You know that.” Sam egged on.

Everyone looked at Lena.

“It’s too dangerous—I don’t want him within a hundred miles of her or her family.”

Jack was supremely confident. “Lena, we’ll lure him out. He’s not getting through us.”

Sam thought for a minute. “I don’t see him attacking. He’ll try to wait for us to leave her alone.”

“It won’t take long for him to realize that’s not going to happen.”

“I demand that you take me home.” Steel laced Kara’s tone. Lena pressed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Please,” Kara said in a much softer voice, her heat vision vanishing and leaving pleading blue eyes.

Lena didn’t look up, and when she spoke, her voice sounded worn.

“You’re leaving tonight, whether the tracker sees or not. You tell Eliza whatever story works. Pack the first thing your hands touch, and then get in your truck. I don’t care what Eliza says to you. You have fifteen minutes. Do you hear me? Fifteen minutes from the time you cross the doorstep.” The Jeep rumbled back to life, and Lena spun them around, the tires squealing. The needle on the speedometer started to race up the dial. Lena was entirely untroubled by the scorched part of the steering wheel, as if she accepted burst of solar energy as a normal part of her life.

A few minutes passed in silence, other than the roar of the engine. Then Lena spoke again.

“This is how it’s going to happen. When we get to the house, if the tracker is not there, I will walk her to the door. Then she has fifteen minutes.” Lena’s worried glare met Kara’s gaze in the review mirror. “Jack, you take the outside of the house. Sam, you get the truck. I’ll be inside as long as she is. After she’s out, you two can take the Jeep home and tell Lionel.”

“No way,” Jack broke in. “I’m with you.”

“Think it through, Jack. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Until we know how far this is going to go, I’m with you.” Lena sighed, his insistence wearing on Lena’s already thin patience.

“If the tracker is there,” she continued grimly, “we keep driving.”

“We’re going to make it there before him.” Sam said confidently. Lena seemed to accept that. Whatever her problem with Sam was, she didn’t doubt her now.

“What are we going to do with the Jeep?” Sam asked.

Lena’s voice had a cold edge. “You’re driving it home.”

“No, I’m not.” She responded calmly.

The stream of profanities—in what Kara believed to be Gaelic this time—went on.

“We can’t all fit in my truck,” Kara whispered.

Lena didn’t appear to hear her.

“I think you should let me go alone.” Kara said even more quietly. Lena heard that.

“Kara, please just do this my way, just this once,” Lena pleaded between clenched teeth.

“Listen, Eliza’s not an imbecile,” Kara protested. “If you’re not in town tomorrow, she’s going to get suspicious.”

“That’s irrelevant. We’ll make sure she’s safe, and that’s all that matters.”

“Then what about this tracker? He saw the way you acted tonight. He’s going to think you’re with me, wherever you are.”

Jack looked at Kara, insultingly surprised again. “Lena, listen to her,” he urged. “I think she’s right.”

“Yes, she is,” Sam agreed.

“I can’t do that.” Lena’s voice was somehow more icy than before.

“Jack should stay, too,” Kara continued. “He definitely got an eyeful of Jack.”

“What?” Jack turned on her.

“You’ll get a better crack at him if you stay.” Sam agreed.

Lena stared at her incredulously. “You think I should let her go alone?”

“Of course not,” Sam responded. “William and I will take her. With our combined powers, it’ll be rather safe.”

“I can’t do that,” Lena repeated, but this time there was a trace of defeat in her voice. The logic was working on her.

Kara tried to be persuasive. “Hang out here for a week—” She saw Lena’s expression in the mirror and amended “—a few days. Let Eliza see you haven’t kidnapped me, and lead this Ben on a wild-goose chase. Make sure he’s completely off my trail. Then come and meet me. Take a roundabout route, of course, then William and Sam can go home.” Kara could see Lena beginning to consider it.

“Meet you where?”

“National City.” Of course.

“No. He’ll hear that’s where you’re going,” she responded impatiently.

“And you’ll make it look like that’s a ruse, obviously. He’ll know that we’ll know that he’s listening. He’ll never believe I’m actually going where I say I am going.”

“She’s diabolical,” Jack laughed, shaking his head.

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“There are several million people in National City,” she informed Lena.

“It’s not that hard to find a phone book.”

“If it comes down to it, I’m sure I’m stronger than a vampire.”

“Oh?” Lena inquired, the smallest hint of mirth in her tone.

“Lena, we’ll be with her,” Sam reminded her.

“What are you going to do in National City?” The mirth vanished.

“Stay indoors.”

“I kind of like it.” Jack was thinking about cornering Ben, no doubt.

“Shut up, Jack.”

“Look, if we try to take him down while she’s still around, without revealing that she’s not human which will only fuel him more, there’s a much better chance someone will get hurt—Eliza will, or you will, trying to protect her unnecessarily. Now, if we get him alone…” Jack trailed off with a slow smile; Kara was thoroughly shocked that Jack seemed to accept her invulnerability much easier than Lena had. Plus, Kara was right.

The Jeep was crawling slowly along now as they drove into town. Despite Kara’s brave talk, she could feel the hairs on her arms standing up. She thought about Eliza, alone in the house… she tried to summon hope.

“Kara.” Lena’s voice was incredibly soft. Sam and Jack looked out their respective windows. “If you let anything happen to yourself—anything at all—I’m holding you personally responsible. Do you understand that?”

Kara sighed, “When are you gonna understand that nothing on this Earth can hurt me?”

Lena didn’t respond and instead turned to Sam. “Can William handle this?”

“Give him some credit, Lena. He’s been doing very, very well, all things considered.”

“Can you handle this?” Lena eyebrow lifted up haughtily.

And gracefully, subtly, Sam pulled back her lips in a horrific grimace and let loose with a guttural snarl that had Kara rightfully surprised.

Lena smiled at her. “But keep your opinions to yourself,” she muttered suddenly.

Chapter Text

“Saying goodbye doesn’t mean anything. It’s the time we spent together that matters, not how we left it.”

― Trey Parker

Eliza was waiting up for Kara. All the house lights were on. Kara’s mind was blank as she tried to think of a way to make her let her go. This wasn’t going to be pleasant, her excuse to visit Alex wouldn’t be nearly enough.

Lena pulled up slowly, staying well back from Kara’s truck. All four of them were acutely alert, ramrod straight in their seats, listening to every sound of the woods, looking through every shadow, catching every scent, searching for something out of place. The engine was cut off, and Kara sat, motionless, as they continued to listen.

“He’s not here,” Kara breathed out.

“Let’s go,” Lena slid from the driver’s seat.

“Don’t worry, Kara,” Jack said in a low but cheerful voice, “we’ll take care of things here quickly.”

Kara felt moisture filling up her eyes as she looked at Jack. She barely knew him, and yet, somehow, not knowing when she would see him again after tonight was anguishing. Kara knew this was just a faint taste of the goodbyes she would have to survive in the next hour, and the thought made the tears begin to spill.

“Sam, Jack.” Lena’s voice was a command. They slithered soundlessly into the darkness, instantly disappearing. Lena opened Kara’s door and took her hand.

“When this is over, we’re gonna talk about your anger issues.” Kara tried to lightly tease as Lena moved to wipe away a stray tear.

“I apologize… I haven’t felt this sort of… worry and… fear, in a very, very long time. It’s all quite unnatural for me.”

“You’ll have to get used to it—I’ve got a lot of human friends and human family.”

Lena ducked her head, reaching into a pocket and procuring Kara’s forgotten glasses. She gently put them on Kara, adjusting them with a look of sorrow. The instant dulling of the world around her was almost a shock—a strange shock she hadn’t experienced with the lessening of her senses.

“Fifteen minutes,” Lena urged.

“I can do this.” Kara sniffled. Her tears had given her inspiration. She stopped on the porch and took hold of Lena’s face with her hands. She looked fiercely into those golden eyes.

“Zhao khuhp rrip.” she said in a low, intense voice. “I will always love you, no matter what happens now.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Kara,” Lena said just as fiercely.

“Just follow the plan, okay? Keep Eliza safe for me. She’s not going to like me very much after this, and I want to have the chance to apologize later.”

“Get inside, Kara. We have to hurry.” Lena’s voice was urgent.

“One more thing,” Kara whispered passionately. “Don’t listen to another word I say tonight!” Kara tilted her head down to kiss Lena’s surprised, frozen lips with so much force it knocked Lena back slightly. Then she turned and shoved the door open.

“Go away, Lena!” she yelled at her, running inside and slamming the door shut in her still-shocked face.

“Kara?” Eliza had been hovering in the living room, and she was already on her feet.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled at Eliza through her tears, which were flowing relentlessly now. She ran up the stairs to her room, throwing the door shut and locking it. Superspeeding around the room, she reached under her bed, retrieving her duffel bag. Then she lifted the mattress up with one hand, swiftly grabbing her envelope that contained her emergency funds.

Her duffel was already half full by the time Eliza started pounding on the door. “Kara, are you okay? What’s going on?” Her voice was frightened.

“I’m going home.” Kara shouted back, her voice breaking in the perfect spot.

“Did she hurt you?” her tone was unbearably worried.

“No!” Kara shrieked back. She turned to her dresser, and Lena was already there, silently yanking out armfuls of random clothes, which she proceeded to throw to Kara.

“Did she break up with you?” Eliza was perplexed.

“No!” Kara yelled back, slightly more breathless as she shoved everything into the bag.

“What happened, Kara?” Eliza shouted through the door, pounding again.

“I broke up with her!” Kara shouted back, jerking on the zipper of the bag. She almost tore it off, but Lena’s capable hands pushed Kara’s away and zipped it smoothly. She put the strap carefully over Kara’s arm.

“I’ll be in the truck—go!” Lena whispered and pushed Kara toward the door. She vanished out the window.

Kara unlocked the door and pushed past Eliza’s frail human body gently, adjusting her bag easily as she ran down the stairs.

“What happened?” Eliza inquired again, franticly. She was right behind Kara. “I thought you liked her.”

Eliza caught her elbow in the kitchen; Kara had to force herself to stop moving in order to not rip Eliza arm out of socket. She was bewildered and her grip was firm.

She gently turned Kara to look at her, and Kara could see in her face that she had no intention of letting her leave. Kara could think of only one way to escape, and it involved hurting Eliza so much that Kara hated herself for even considering it. But she had no time, and she had to keep Eliza safe. Kara glared at Eliza, the same height as her, fresh tears in her eyes for what she was about to say.

“I do like her—that’s the problem. I can’t do this anymore! I can’t put down any more roots here! This town is too much like Krypton—no bright yellow Sun, it’s cold and damp and fauna everywhere—I don’t want to be stuck in this stupid, boring town where you met Jeremiah! I hate it here—I miss the Sun; I can’t stay here another minute! This will never be home—never be Krypton!”

Eliza’s hand dropped from her arm like Kara had electrocuted her. She turned away from Eliza’s shocked, wounded face and headed for the door.

“Sweetheart, you can’t leave now. It’s nighttime.” Eliza whispered behind her, pulling at straws like it was a life raft. The motherly endearment twisted like a knife in Kara’s gut. She couldn’t turn around.

“I don’t need as much sleep like you humans do. I’ll never be human.” The truth of her own words rang out, emotions swelling in her stomach. The only person that seemed to make Kara feel normal these days was Lena.

“Just wait another week,” Eliza pled, still shell-shocked. “We can talk about this—Alex will be here to visit.”

That completely derailed Kara. “What?”

Eliza continued eagerly, almost babbling with relief as Kara hesitated.

“She called while you were out. Several professors have been caught in something shady, so they’re dismissing school for three weeks while they work on hiring new staff.

Kara shook her head, trying to reassemble her now-confused thoughts. Every passing second put Eliza in more danger.

She turned, turning the knob. Eliza was too close, one hand extended toward her, her face dazed. Kara couldn’t waste any more time arguing with her. She was going to have to hurt her further.

“Just let me go, Eliza.” Her jaw was a hard line as she met Eliza’s glassy eyes. Kara said the words as angrily as she could. “You’re not my mom, Alex is not my sister, and this is not my family.” The lies tasted bitter in her mouth, twisting her gut further.

Kara’s cruel words, her lies, did their job—Eliza stayed frozen on the doorstep, stunned, while Kara ran into the night. She resisted the urge to use superspeed, but still reached the truck in a frantic run. She threw her bag in the bed and wrenched the door open. The key was waiting in the ignition.

“I’ll call you tomorrow!” Kara called out, wishing more than anything that she could explain everything to Eliza right then, knowing she would never be able to. Kara gunned the engine and peeled out.

Lena reached for her hand.

“Pull over,” she said as the house, and Eliza, disappeared behind them.

“I can drive,” Kara said through the tears pouring down her cheeks. Lena’s pale hands unexpectedly gripped Kara’s waist, and her foot pushed Kara’s off the gas pedal. Lena pulled her across her lap, wrenching Kara’s hands free of the wheel, and suddenly Lena was in the driver’s seat. The truck didn’t swerve an inch, and Kara was too emotionally exhausted to fight the extrication.

“You wouldn’t be able to find the house,” Lena tried to explain away, as if she didn’t know Kara had a photographic memory. Lights suddenly flared behind them. Kara glanced out the back window. 

“It’s just Sam,” Lena reassured her. She took Kara’s hand again. Her mind was filled with the image of Eliza in the doorway, an image she would never forget. Not for centuries to come.

“The tracker?”

“He heard the end of your performance,” Lena responded grimly.

“Eliza?” Kara questioned with dread.

“The tracker followed us. He’s running behind us now.” Kara sighed with relief which earned a slight glare from Lena.

“Can we outrun him?”

“No.” but Lena sped up as she spoke. The truck’s engine whined in protest.

Kara was staring back at Sam’s headlights when the truck shuddered, and a dark shadow sprung up outside the window.

She immediately recognized Jack’s scent and sighed in further relief.

“It’s okay, Kara,” Lena promised. “Everyone is going to be safe.” They raced through the quiet town toward the north highway.

“I didn’t realize this place reminded you of Krypton so much,” Lena said conversationally, and Kara knew she was trying to distract her. “It seemed like you liked it here, were adjusting fairly well—especially recently. Maybe I was just flattering myself that I was making life more interesting for you.”

“I wasn’t being nice,” Kara confessed, ignoring Lena’s attempt at diversion, looking down at her hands. “That was the same thing I said when I ran away a few months after the Danvers took me in—about them not being my family. But now… that’s simply not true.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll forgive you.” Lena smiled a little, though it didn’t touch her eyes.

Kara stared at her desperately, and then Lena saw the naked panic in her eyes.

“Kara, it’s going to be all right.”

“But it won’t be all right when I’m not with you,” Kara whispered. Currently, Lena was the last thing she had to lose.

“We’ll be together again in a few days,” Lena said, tightening her arm around Kara. “Don’t forget that this was your idea.”

“It was the best idea—of course it was mine.” Lena’s answering smile was bleak and disappeared immediately.

“Why did this happen?” Kara questioned, her voice catching. “Why me?” Lena stared blankly at the road ahead, a thousand emotions seeming to pass through her eyes.

“It’s my fault—I was a fool to expose you like that.” There was an innate sense of self-loathing that colored her tone.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kara insisted. “I was there, big deal. It didn’t bother the other two. Why did this Ben decide to kill me? There are people all over the place, why me?”

Lena hesitated, thinking before she answered.

“I got a good look at his mind tonight,” she began in a low voice. “I’m not sure if there’s anything I could have done to avoid this, once he saw you. It is partially your fault.” Lena’s voice was wry, “If you didn’t smell so appallingly luscious, he might not have bothered. But when I defended you… well, that made it a lot worse. He’s not used to being thwarted, no matter how insignificant the object. He thinks of himself as a hunter and nothing else. His existence is consumed with tracking, and a challenge is all he asks of life. Suddenly, we’ve presented him with a beautiful challenge—a large clan of strong fighters all bent on protecting the one ‘vulnerable’ element. You wouldn’t believe how euphoric he is now. It’s his favorite game, and we’ve just made it his most exciting game ever.” Lena’s tone was full of abhorrent disgust.

She paused for a moment.

“But if I had stood by, he would have tried to kill you right then. If that happened, you would have been revealed and we would have had to kill Otis and Eve,” Lena spoke with hopeless frustration.

“I thought… I didn’t smell the same to the others… as I do to you,” she voiced her silent question hesitantly.

“You don’t. But that doesn’t mean that you aren’t still a temptation to every one of them. If you had appealed to the tracker—or any of them—the same way you appeal to me, it would have meant a fight right there.” Lena was shaking her head, appalled by the idea alone. “I don’t think I have any choice but to kill him now,” Kara could tell that wasn’t what Lena wanted, that Lena hated the idea of taking any life, even if it was as twisted as Ben’s.

“Lionel won’t like it,” Kara tried to hedge without directly pulling Lena’s feelings to the surface.

Kara could hear the tires crossing the bridge, and a quick glance through the dark confirmed the river. She knew they were getting close. She had to ask Lena now, in case she ever needed to.

“How can you kill a vampire?”

Lena glanced at her with unreadable eyes and her voice was suddenly harsh, the undercurrent of self-loathing still present.

“The only way to be sure is to tear him to shreds, and then burn the pieces.”

“And the other two will fight with him?”

“The woman will. I’m not sure about Otis. They don’t have a strong bond—he’s only with them for convenience. He was embarrassed by Ben in the meadow…”

“But Ben and the woman—they’ll try to kill you?” Kara’s voice was raw and fretted with worry.

“Kara, don’t you dare waste time worrying about me. I can carry my own. Your only concern is to please, please, try not to be reckless.”

“He’s still following.” He may not have a heartbeat, but Kara could hear his footfalls in the distance. He wasn’t nearly as silent as Lena.

“Yes. He won’t attack the house, though. Not tonight.” Lena turned off onto the barely visible drive, with Sam following behind. They drove right up to the house. The lights inside were bright, but they did little to alleviate the blackness of the encroaching forest. Jack had her door open before the truck was stopped; Kara allowed him to pull her from the seat and speed through the door.

They burst into the large white room, Lena and Sam at their sides. All of them were there; they were already on their feet at the sound of their approach. Otis stood in their midst. Kara could hear the low growl rumble deep in Jack’s throat as she moved next to Lena.

“He’s tracking us,” Lena announced, glaring balefully at Otis as icy disdain leeched into her voice again. Her jaw was a sharp line, her teeth clearly grinding together in her anger. It wasn’t possible for Lena Luthor, but Kara could have sworn that Lena was several shades more pale than usual.

Otis’ face wasn’t nearly as grave, but his demeanor was that of dissent. “I was afraid of that.”

Sam made her way to William’s side, whispering in his ear quickly the nature of their plan. A moment later they had ascended the stairs in a blur of movement, disappearing from the room. Andrea watched them, her eyes flickering for a moment, her mouth set in a severe line. Kara was certain now that Andrea’s palpable anger wasn’t directed toward her any longer.

“What will he do?” Lionel questioned Otis’, and Kara immediately knew where the cold-business-like tone that Lena often used, had come from; even if they were hundred years apart in age and unrelated by nothing more than vampire venom, Lena was his daughter without doubt.

“I’m sorry,” Otis began, and Kara could hear Lena’s low growl of annoyance. “I was afraid, when your girl there defended her, that it would set him off.”

“Can you stop him?”

Otis shook his head. “Nothing stops Ben Lockwood once he gets started.”

“Well stop him,” Jack promised, his hand briefly resting on Lena’s tense shoulder; there was no doubt what he meant.

“You can’t bring him down. I’ve never seen anything like him in my three hundred years. He’s absolutely lethal. That’s why I joined his coven.”

His coven, Kara thought, of course. The show of leadership in the clearly was merely that, a show.

Otis was shaking his head again. He glanced at Kara, perplexed, and back to Lionel. “Are you sure it’s worth it?”

Lena’s enraged, threatening growl filled the room and Otis cringed back. Lena had never seemed less human than in the moment, full of primal and animalistic behavior. Lionel looked gravely at Otis. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to make a choice.”

Otis understood. He deliberated for a moment, his eyes took in every face, and finally swept the bright room.

“I’m intrigued by the life you’ve created here. But I won’t get in the middle of this. I bear none of you any enmity, but I won’t go up against Ben. I think I will head north—to that clan in Denali.” He hesitated, his eyes flickering to Kara’s eyes before setting on Lena’s furious gold. “Don’t underestimate Benjamin. He’s got a brilliant mind and unparalleled senses. He’s every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be, and he won’t come at you head on… I’m sorry for what’s been unleashed here. Truly sorry.” He bowed his head, but Kara still noticed the puzzled look directed toward her.

“Go in peace,” Came Lionel’s formal response as his arms crossed.

Otis took another long look around himself, and then hurried out the door.

The silence lasted less than a second.

“How close?” Lionel looked at Lena, his brow furrowed.

Lillian was already moving, her hand touching an inconspicuous keypad on the wall, and with a groan, huge metal shutters began sealing up the glass wall. Kara inhaled sharply, a feeling of claustrophobia settling in her ribcage.

“About three miles out past the river; he’s circling around to meet up with the woman.” Kara fought the feeling of the walls closing in around her, focusing solely on the tenor of Lena’s voice.

“What’s the plan?”

“We’ll lead him off, and then William and Sam will run her south.”

“And then?”

Lena’s tone was deadly. “As soon as Kara is clear, we hunt him.”

“I guess there’s no other choice,” Lionel agreed, his face grim and an air of resolved regret about him.

Lena turned to Andrea, her face momentarily pleading before it smoothed into indifference. “Go upstairs and trade clothes.” Andrea’s face morphed into disbelief before settling on contrite as she nodded solemnly.

Lena then turned her head, eerily calm. “Kara?”

Kara nodded, squeezing Lena’s hand before she was up the stairs with Andrea in the next breath.

“What are we doing?” Kara asked breathlessly, walking into a dark room off the second-story hall.

“Trying to confuse the smell. It won’t work for long, but it might help get you out.” Kara averted her gaze quickly, her eyesight piercing through the darkness easily as she began to strip.

“I don’t think I’ll fit…” Kara hesitated, knowing she was taller, had more muscle, and broader shoulders than Andrea. Even as she spoke it into existence, she was quickly shedding out of her shirt and shimming out of her jeans.

Something was pressed into her hands, assumingly a shirt. In her haste, she nearly ripped the too-tight shirt in half. Then she was yanking on slacks that hugged her hips and thighs tightly, stopping an inch too short on her ankles.

Andrea was in her clothes in an instant, looking slightly comical in the too large clothes, and rolling the hem of Kara’s pants up. In another half of a heartbeat, Kara, Andrea, and Sam—with a leather bag in hand—were at the landing of the stairs.

It appeared that everything had been settled downstairs in their absence. Lena and Jack were ready to leave, Jack carrying a heavy-looking backpack over his shoulder. Lionel was handing Lillian something small. He turned and handed Sam the same thing—it was a small silver cell phone—something Kara knew wasn’t any cell phone on the market, and far more advanced than the rudimentary phones of humans. She’d have to ask Lena about that later.

“Lillian and Andrea will be taking your truck, Kara,” he explained as he passed by. Kara simply nodded, glancing warily at Andrea as she began muttering in Spanish again. “Sam, William—take the Mercedes. You’ll need the dark tint further south.”

They nodded as well.

“We’re taking the Jeep.”

Kara was surprised to see that Lionel intended to go with Lena. Then she realized, with a stab of worry, that they made up a hunting party.

“Sam,” Lionel turned, “will they take the bait?” The room seemed to wait with bated breath as Sam closed her eyes, becoming impossibly still.

When her eyes finally opened, “He’ll track you. The woman will follow the truck. We should be able to leave after that.” Her voice was as certain as the hard line of her jaw.

“Let’s go.” Lionel began to walk toward the kitchen, but Lena was at her side at once. She caught Kara with an iron grip that didn’t quite compare with Kryptonian strength, but was full of desperation as Lena crushed Kara against her. Lena seemed not to care, or maybe she was unaware, of her watching family as she pulled Kara’s chin down to plant her icy lips into a hard kiss against Kara’s. Lena held her face for a moment, her honey eyes burning into an ocean of blue. Then her eyes faded to green, going blank, curiously dead, as she turned away.

Then they were gone.

They stood there, the Luthors looking away from Kara as tears streaked noiselessly down her face.

The silent moment dragged on, and then Lillian’s phone vibrated in her hand. It flashed to her ear.

“Now,” she announced, and Andrea stalked out the front door with an air of rage as Lillian stopped to touch Kara’s cheek as she passed. “Be safe.” Her whisper lingered behind them as they slipped out the door. It was deftly followed by the thunderous sound of Kara’s truck coming to life, before fading into the distance.

Willam and Sam waited. Sam’s phone was at her ear before it buzzed. “Lena says the woman is on Andrea’s trail. I’ll get the car.” She vanished in the shadows the way Lena had gone.

She and William looked at each other. He stood across the length of the entry way from Kara… being careful.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said quietly, the Americanized school accent replaced by a strange mix of English and Southern American. Despite their situation, Kara couldn’t help but wonder at what time period William had come from to provide such clashing accents into one smooth drift.

“What?” Kara hated the brittle tone of her voice.

“I can feel what you’re feeling now—and you are worth it.”

“I’m not,” Kara mumbled, feeling the weight of her two worlds settling heavily on her shoulders. “If anything happens to them, it will be for nothing.”

“You’re wrong,” he repeated, smiling kindly at Kara. She heard the rustle of movement, then Sam stepped through the front door.

“Are you ready?” Kara gave a solemn nod before trailing behind the vampire, taking off in a blur of motion bracketed by William and Sam, leaving the bright lights behind them.

Chapter Text

“Impatience translates itself into a desire to have something immediate done about it all, and, as is generally the case with impatience, resolves itself in the easiest way that lies ready to hand.”

― Edward Sapir

When Kara woke up, she was momentarily hit with a bout of confusion. Her thoughts were hazy, still twisted up in her dreams and nightmares; it took her longer than it should have to realize where she was.

The room was too bland to belong anywhere but in a hotel. The bedside lamps, bolted to the tables, were a dead giveaway, as were the long drapes made from the same fabric as the bedspread, and the generic watercolor prints on the walls.

Her memories of how she got there came rushing to the surface. The sleek black car, with windows tinted darker than any limousine. The engine was quiet, though they raced across the black freeways at more than twice the legal speed. And Kara remembered Sam sitting with her on the dark leather backseat. Somehow, during the long night, Kara’s head had ended up against her granite neck. Her closeness didn’t seem to bother Sam, and her cool, hard skin was oddly comforting. The front of her thin cotton shirt was cold, damp with the tears that streamed from Kara’s eyes until, red and sore, they ran dry.

Sleep had evaded her; her aching eyes strained open even though the night finally ended, and dawn broke over a low peak somewhere in California. The gray light, streaking across the cloudless sky, stung Kara’s eyes. Though she couldn’t close them; when she did, the images that flashed all too vividly, like still slides behind her eye lids, were unbearable. Etched permanently into her mind; Eliza’s broken expression—Lena’s brutal snarl, teeth bared—Andrea’s heated glare accentuated by her rapid Spanish—the keen-eyed scrutiny of the tracker—the dead look in Lena’s eyes after she had kissed her the last time… Kara couldn’t stand to see them. So she fought against the nightmares the images would cause as the sun rose higher.

She was still awake when they came through a shallow mountain pass and the sun, behind them now, reflected off the tiled rooftops of the city. Kara didn’t have enough emotion left to be surprised that they’d made a two-day journey in one. She stared blankly at the wide, hilled expanse laid out in front of her. National City—the palm trees, the haphazard lines of the intersecting freeways, the constant buzz of life, all submerged in a thin smog and embraced by towering skyscrapers.

The shadows of the palm trees slanted across the freeway—defined, sharper than Kara remembered, paler than they should be. Nothing could hide in these shadows. The bright, open freeway seemed benign enough. But she felt no relief, no sense of homecoming.

“Which way is the airport, Kara?” William inquired, and Kara flinched, though his voice was soft and un-alarming. It was the first sound, besides the purr of the car, to break the long night’s silence.

“Stay on the I-ten,” she answered automatically. “We’ll pass right by it.” Her brain had worked slowly through the fog of debilitating emotions. “Are we flying somewhere?” she directed toward Sam.

“No, but it’s better to be close, just in case.” She remembered beginning the loop around Simmons International Airport… but not ending it. She supposed that must have been when she’d fallen asleep. She had a vague impression of leaving the car half-asleep—the sun was just falling behind the horizon—her arm draped over Sam’s shoulder and her arm firm around Kara’s waist, dragging her along as she stumbled through the warm, dry shadows. She had no memory of this room.

Kara looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed it was three o’clock, but they gave no indication if it was night or day. No edge of light escaped the thick curtains, but the room was bright with light from the lamps.

She rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes. It was dark outside. Three in the morning, then. The room looked out on a deserted section of the freeway and the new long term parking garage for the airport. Kara was only slightly comforted to be able to pinpoint the time and place.

She was all too aware of the prickly sensation of too-tight clothes wrapped around her frame, realizing she was still in Andrea’s clothes. It was a relief to discover her duffel bag on top of the low dresser.

When she was on her way to find new clothes, a light tap on the door made her flinch. A quick x-ray confirmed who it was.

“Can I come in?”

Kara took a deep, stabilizing breath. “Yeah.”

Sam walked in and looked over at Kara cautiously. “You look like you could sleep longer,” she commented dryly.

A mix of a laugh and a scoff escaped her as she shook her head.

Sam drifted silently to the curtains and closed them securely before turning back to Kara.

“We’ll need to stay inside,” her tone took a more serious edge.

“Okay.” Her voice was hoarse.

“Thirsty?”

Kara shrugged, feeling like she wasn’t present in the moment and instead drifting somewhere between here and distant memories. “I’m okay. How about you?”

“Nothing unmanageable.” She smiled. “I ordered some food for you, it’s in the front room. Lena reminded me that you have to et a lot more frequently than we do.”

The Kryptonian felt a spark of hope. “She called?”

“No,” Sam responded, watching as Kara’s face fell. “It was before we left.” She took Kara’s hand carefully and led her though the door into the living space of the hotel suite. Kara could hear the low buzz of voices from the TV. William sat motionlessly at the desk in the corner, his eyes watching the news with no glimmer of interest.

Kara sat on the floor next to the coffee table, where a tray of food waited, and began picking at it without noticing what she was eating. Sam perched on the arm of the sofa and stared blankly at the TV like William.

She ate slowly, watching Sam, turning now and then to glance at William. It began to dawn on Kara that they were too still. They never looked away from the screen, though commercials were playing now. Kara pushed the tray away, her stomach abruptly uneasy. Sam looked down at her.

“What’s wrong, Sam?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Her tawny eyes were wide, honest… Kara didn’t trust them.

“What do we do now?”

“We wait for Lionel to call.”

“And should he have called by now?” Kara could see that she was near the mark. Sam’s eyes flitted from hers to the phone on top of her leather bag and back.

“What does that mean?” She forced her voice to not quaver. “That he hasn’t called yet?”

“It just means that they don’t have anything to tell us.” Her voice was too even, and the air was harder to breathe. William was suddenly beside Sam, closer to Kara than usual.

“Kara,” he started in a suspiciously soothing voice. “You have nothing to worry about. You are completely safe here.”

“I know that.”

“Then why are you frightened?” He was confused, and Kara realized that while he might feel the tenor of her emotions, he couldn’t read the reasons behind them.

“You heard what Otis said.” Her voice was just a whisper, but she knew they would hear her. “He said Ben was lethal. What if something goes wrong, and they get separated? If something happens to any of them, Lionel, Jack… Lena…” Kara gulped. “If that wild woman hurts Andrea…” her voice had grown higher, a note of despair beginning to rise in it. “How could I live with myself—for all of eternity—when it’s my fault? None of you should be risking yourselves for me—”

“Kara, Kara, stop,” he interrupted, his words pouring out so quickly that it briefly jarred Kara. “You’re worrying about all the wrong things, Kara. Trust me on this—none of us are in jeopardy. You are under too much strain as it is; don’t add to it with wholly unnecessary worries. Listen to me!” he ordered, for Kara had looked away. “Our family is strong. Our only fear is losing you and your family.”

“But why should you—”

Sam interrupted this time, touching Kara’s cheek with her cold fingers. “It’s been nearly two centuries that Lena’s been alone. Now she’s found you. You can’t see the changes that we see, we who have been with her for so long. Do you think any of us want to look into her eyes for the next hundred years if she loses you?”

Kara’s guilt slowly subsided as she looked into Sam’s dark eyes, but, even as the calm spread over her, she knew she couldn’t trust her feelings with William there.

It was a very long day.

They stayed in the room. Sam called down to the front desk and asked them to ignore their maid service for now. The windows stayed shut, the TV on, though no one watched it. The silver phone resting on Sam’s bag seemed to grow bigger as the hours passed.

Kara’s imposed babysitters handled the suspense better than she did. Kara fidgeted and paced, nearly burning a hole into the floor as the Luthors in the room only grew impossibly stiller: two statues of whose eyes followed Kara imperceptibly as she moved. She occupied herself with memorizing the drab room; the striped pattern of the couches, tan, peach, cream, dull gold, and tan again. Sometimes she stared at the abstract prints, randomly finding images in the shapes, like she would with the clouds when she was younger. Her eyes traced a blue hand, a woman combing her hair, a cat stretching. But when the pale red circle became a staring eye, she looked away.

As the afternoon wore on, Kara went back to bed, simply for something to do. She hoped that by herself in the dark, she could give in to the terrible fears that hovered on the edge of her consciousness, unable to break through under William’s careful supervision.

But Sam followed her casually, as if by some coincidence she had grown tired of the front room at the same time. Kara was beginning to wonder exactly what sort of instructions Lena had given her. She laid across the bed, and Sam sat, legs folded, next to Kara. Kara ignored her at first, suddenly tired enough to sleep. But after a few minutes, the panic that had held off in William’s presence began to make itself known. Kara gave up on the idea of sleep quickly then, curling up into a small ball, wrapping her arms around her legs.

“Sam?” she whispered.

“Yes?”

Kara kept her voice calm. “What do you think they’re doing?”

“Lionel wanted to lead the tracker as far north as possible, wait for him to get close, and then turn and ambush him. Lillian and Andrea were supposed to head west as long as they could keep the woman behind them. If she turned around, they were to head back to Forks and keep an eye on your mom. So, I imagine things are going well if they can’t call. It means the tracker is close enough that they don’t want him to overhear.”

“And Lillian?”

“I think she must be back in Forks. She won’t call if there’s any chance the woman will overhear. I expect they’re all just being insanely careful.”

“Do you think they’re safe, really?”

“Kara, how many times do we have to tell you that there’s no danger to us?”

“Would you tell me the truth, though?”

“Yes. I will always tell you the truth.” Her voice was earnest, and after a moment of deliberation, Kara decided she meant it.

“Tell me then… how do you become a vampire?”

Her question caught Sam off guard. She was quiet. Kara rolled over to look at her, and her expression seemed ambivalent.

“Lena doesn’t want me to tell you that,” she stated firmly, but Kara sensed that Sam didn’t agree. Sam knew something about the future, Kara was sure.

“That’s not fair. I think I have a right to know.”

“I know.”

She looked at Sam, waiting.

She sighed. “She’ll be upset.”

“I don’t think it’s really her business. This is between you and me. Sam, as a friend, I’m asking you.” And they were friends now, somehow—as she must have known they would have been all along.

Sam looked at her with deep, wise eyes, choosing. “I’ll tell you the mechanics of it,” she allowed, “but I don’t remember it myself, and I’ve never done it or seen it done, so keep in mind that I can only tell you the theory.”

Kara waited.

“As predators, we have a glut of weapons in our physical arsenal—much, much more than really necessary. The strength, the speed, the acute senses—” Kara realized that the only thing that separated her from being a predator was that she didn’t need blood to survive “—not to mention those of us like Lena, William, and I, who have extra senses as well. And then, like a carnivorous flower, we are physically attractive to our prey.”

Kara was incredibly still, remembering how pointedly Lena had demonstrated that same concept for Kara in the meadow.

Sam smiled with both warmth and mystery. “We have another fairly superfluous weapon. We’re also venomous.” Her teeth were glistening. “The venom doesn’t kill—it’s merely incapacitating. It works slowly, spreading through the bloodstream, so that, once bitten, our prey is in too much physical pain to escape us. Mostly superfluous, as I said. If we’re that close, the prey doesn’t escape. Of course, there are always exceptions. Lionel, for example.”

“So… if the venom is left to spread…”

“It takes a few days for the transformation to be complete, depending on how much venom is in the bloodstream, how close the venom enters to the heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, the poison spreads, healing, changing the body as it moves through it. Eventually, the heart stops, and the conversation is finished. But all that time, every minute of it, the victim would be wishing for death.”

Kara frowned, a half-baked idea in the back of her mind scrambling to a halt.

“It’s not pleasant…”

“Lena said that it was difficult to do… I don’t quite understand.” She admitted quietly.

“We’re also like sharks in a way.” Sam explained. “Once we taste the blood, or even smell it for that matter, it becomes hard to keep from feeding. Sometimes impossible. So to actually bite someone, to taste the blood, it would begin the frenzy. It’s difficult on both sides—the bloodlust on the one hand, the awful pain on the other.”

“Why do you think you don’t remember?” The question came out of her mouth before she could stop herself, her blue eyes widening in embarrassment, but Sam didn’t seem all that bothered.

“I don’t know. For everyone else, the pain of transformation is the sharpest memory they have of their human life. I remember nothing of being human.” Her voice was wistful, full of sadness and sorrow.

They laid silently, wrapped in their own individual meditations.

The seconds ticked by, and Kara had almost forgotten Sam’s presence, she was so enveloped in her thoughts.

Then, without any warning, Sam leaped from the bed, landing silently on her feet. Kara’s head jerked up, startled as she stared at Sam.

“Something’s changed.” Her voice was urgent, and she wasn’t talking to Kara anymore.

Sam reached the door at the same time as William did. He had obviously heard their conversation and Sam’s sudden exclamation. He put his large hands on Sam’s shoulders and guided her back to the bed, sitting her on the edge.

“What do you see?” he asked intently, staring into her eyes. Sam’s eyes were focused on something very far away. Kara sat close, leaning in as she caught Sam’s low, quick voice.

“I see a room. It’s long and there are mirrors everywhere. The floor is wooden. He’s in the room, and he’s waiting. There’s gold… a gold stripe across the mirrors.

“Where is the room?”

“I don’t know. Something is missing—another decision hasn’t been made yet.”

“How much time?”

“It’s soon. He’ll be in the mirror room today, or maybe tomorrow. It all depends. He’s waiting for something. And he’s in the dark now.”

William’s voice was calm, methodical, as he questioned Sam in a practiced way that Kara imagined all the Luthors were acquainted with. “What is he doing?”

“He’s watching TV…. No, he’s running a VCR, in the dark, in another place.

“Can you see where he is?”

“No, it’s too dark.”

“And the mirror room, what else is there?”

“Just the mirrors, and the gold. It’s a band, around the room. And there’s a black table with a big stereo and a TV. He’s touching the VCR there, but he doesn’t watch the way he does in the dark room. This is the room where he waits.” Her eyes drifted, blazing gold, before they focused on William’s face and bled into a warm brown.

“There’s nothing else?”

She shook her head. They looked at each other, motionless.

“What does it mean?” Kara questioned, an edge of steel in her tone.

Neither of them answered for a moment, then William looked at her.

“It means the tracker’s plans have changed. He’s made a decision that will lead him to the mirror room, and the dark room.”

“But we don’t know where those rooms are?”

“No.”

“But we do know that he won’t be in the mountains north of Washington, being hunted. He’ll elude them.” Sam’s voice was bleak, monotone.

“Should we call?” They traded a serious look at Kara’s question, undecided. The phone rang.

Sam was across the room in a quarter of a heartbeat. She held the phone to her ear, but didn’t speak first.

“Lionel,” Kara released the breath she’d been holding, but Sam didn’t seem surprised or relieved.

“Yes,” she confirmed, glancing at Kara. Sam listened for a long moment. “I just saw him.” She described again the vision she’d seen. “Whatever made him get on that plane… it was leading him to those rooms.” She paused. “Yes,” Sam said into the phone, and then she turned to Kara.

“Kara?”

She held the phone out toward her. Kara was across the room faster than Sam had moved.

“Hello?” she breathed.

“Kara,” Lena greeted.

“Lena I’ve been so worried.”

“Kara,” she sighed, a tinge of affection in the sound, “I told you not to worry about anything but yourself.” It was incredible to hear Lena’s voice, even in the way of a soft reprimand that held no anger or frustration. Kara felt the hovering cloud of despair lighten and drifting back as she spoke.

“Where are you?”

“We’re outside of Vancouver. Kara, I’m sorry—we lost him. He seems suspicious of us—he’s careful to stay just far enough away that I can’t hear what he’s thinking. But he’s gone now—it looks like he got on a plane. We think he’s heading back to Forks to start over.” Kara could hear Sam filling in William behind her, her words, which would have been a blurred hum to human ears, was crystal clear to Kara; she turned her attention back to Lena.

“I know. Sam saw that he got away.”

“You don’t have to worry though.” Lena reassured. “He won’t find anything to lead him to you. You just have to stay there and wait till we find him again.”

“I’ll be fine. Is Lillian with Eliza?”

“Yes—the blonde woman has been in town. She went to the house, but while Eliza was at work. She hasn’t gone near her, so don’t be afraid. She’s safe with Lillian and Andrea watching.”

“What’s she doing?” Kara knew the crinkle between her brows had taken root.

“Probably trying to pick up the trail. She’s been all through town during the night. Andrea traced her through the airport, all the roads around town, the school… she’s digging, Kara, but there’s nothing to find.”

“And you’re sure Eliza’s safe?”

“Yes, Lillian won’t let her out of her sight. And we’ll be there soon. If the tracker gets anywhere near Forks, we’ll have him.”

“I miss you,” Kara whispered, even if she knew it was futile in a room with vampires.

“I know Kara. Believe me, I know. It’s like you’ve taken half myself away with you.” It was the softest Kara had ever heard Lena, her Irish lilt further enunciating the words.

“Come and get it then,” Kara challenged, teasingly and all too earnestly.

“Soon, as soon as I possibly can. I’ll make you and your family safe first.” Her voice was a hard promise.

“Zhao khuhp ripp,” Kara reminded her.

“Could you believe that, despite everything I’ve put you through, I love you as well?”

“Yes, I can, actually,” Kara’s laugh was watery.

“I’ll come for you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

As soon as the phone went dead, the cloud of despair began to creep over Kara again, settling on her shoulders heavily.

She turned to give the phone back to Sam and found her and William bent over the table, where Sam was sketching on a piece of hotel stationery. Kara leaned on the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder. She drew a room: long, rectangular, with a thinner, square section at the back. The wooden planks that made up the floor stretched lengthwise across the room. Down the walls were lines denoting around the breaks in the mirrors. And then, wrapping around the walls, waist high, a long band. The band Sam said was gold.

“It’s a ballet studio,” Kara said, suddenly recognizing the familiar shapes as if Sam had ripped them from Kara’s memory. They looked at her, surprised.

“Do you know this room?” Willaim’s accented voice sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of something Kara couldn’t identify. Sam bent her head to her work, her hand flying across the page now, the shape of an emergency exit taking shape against the back wall, the stereo and TV on a low table by the front right corner.

“It’s the place I used to go for dance lessons—when I first crashed on Earth. Eliza thought it would be a good way to master my strength and speed.” She touched the page where the square section jutted out, narrowing the back part of the room. “That’s where the bathrooms were—the doors were through the other dance floor. But the stereo was here”—Kara pointed to the left corner—“it was older, and there wasn’t a TV. There was a window in the waiting room—you would see the room from this perspective if you looked through it.” Sam and William were staring at her.

“Are you sure it’s the same room?” William asked, still calm.

“Yes—Kryptonians have perfect memory—I wouldn’t forget even if I wanted to. The mirrors, the bar.” Kara traced her finger along the ballet bar set against the mirrors. “It’s the same details.” She touched the door, set in exactly the same place as she recalled.

“Would you have any reason to go there now?” Sam asked, breaking her reverie.

“No. I grew frustrated—I’m a terrible dancer, they always put me in the back for recitals.” Kara admitted, a red tinge coloring her cheeks.

“So there’s no way it could be connected to you?” Sam asked intently.

“No, I don’t even think the same person owns it anymore.”

“Where was the studio you went to?” William asked in a casual voice.

“It was just around the corner from Eliza’s house. Alex used to walk me there after school…” Kara explained, her voice trailing off. She didn’t miss the look the two vampires exchanged.

“Here in National City, then?” His voice was still casual.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Fifty-eight Street and Cypress.” They all sat in silence, staring at the drawing.

“Sam, is that phone safe?”

“Yes,” she reassured Kara. “The number would just trace back to Washington.”

“Then I can use it to call my sister.”

“I thought she was in San Franciso.”

“She is—but she’s coming home soon—too Forks—and she can’t go home to the house with Eliza while…” Kara’s voice trembled. “And she can’t go back to our home here in National City.” Kara was thinking about something Lena had said, about the blonde-haired woman at Eliza’s house, at the school, where her records would be.

“William?” Sam asked.

He thought about it. “I don’t think there’s any way it could hurt—be sure you don’t say where you are, of course.”

Kara reached eagerly for the phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang all the way through, and then Kara heard her sister’s bored tone telling her to leave a message.

“Alex,” she said after the beep, “it’s me. Listen, I need you to do something. It’s important. As soon as you get this message, call me at this number.” Sam was already at Kara’s side, writing the number for her on the bottom of the picture. Kara read it carefully, twice. “Please don’t go anywhere until you talk to me. Don’t worry, I’m okay, but I have to talk to you right away, no matter how late you get this message, all right? I love you. Always.” Kara closed her eyes and prayed to Rao with all her might that no unforeseen change of plans would bring Alex to either home before she got her message.

She settled into the sofa, nibbling on a plate of leftover food, anticipating a long evening. She thought about calling Eliza but wasn’t sure what she would say. Kara concentrated on the news, watching out for stories about California, or about spring training—strikes or tsunamis or terrorist attacks—anything that might send Alex home early.

 Kara was immortal, but immortality didn’t seem to grant her the same endless patience that it seemed to grant the vampires. William nor Sam seemed to feel the need to do anything at all. For a while, Sam sketched the vague outline of the dark room from her vision, as much as she could see in the light from the TV. But when she was done, she simply sat, looking at the blank walls with her timeless eyes. William, too, seemed to have no urge to pace, or peek through the curtains, or run screaming out the door, the way Kara did.

Kara must have fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring again. The touch of Sam’s cold hands woke her briefly as she carried Kara to the bed, but she was unconscious again before her head hit the pillow.

Chapter Text

“When I have to take phone calls, I start to sweat and panic. Being on the phone is so weird - hearing a voice without seeing the face so you can't really know the intention behind the voice.”

― Christine and the Queens

Kara could feel it was too early again when she woke, and she knew she was getting the schedule of her days and nights slowly reversed. She laid in her bed and listened to the quiet voices of Sam and William in the other room. She rolled off the bed, her feet hovering an inch above the ground as she floated her was into the living room. Sam and William were sitting together on the sofa, Sam sketching again while Willaim looked over her shoulder. They didn’t look up when Kara entered, softly landing on the floor, too engrossed in Sam’s work.

She crept to William’s side to peek.

“Did she see something more?” she inquired quietly.

“Yes. Something’s brought him back to the room with the VCR, but it’s light now.”

Kara watched as Sam drew a square room with dark beams across its low ceiling. The walls were paneled in wood, a little too dark, out of date. The floor had a dark carpet with a pattern in it. There was a large window against the south wall, and an opening through the west wall led to the living room. One side of that entrance was stone—a large tan stone fireplace that was open to both rooms. The focus of the room from this perspective, the TV and VCR, balanced on a too-small wooden stand, were in the southwest corner of the room. An aged sectional sofa curved around in front of the TV, a round coffee table in front of it.

“The phone goes there,” Kara whispered, pointing.

Two pairs of eternal eyes stared at her.

“That’s my mother’s house in Midvale Heights.”

Sam was already off the couch, phone in hand, dialing. Kara stared at the precise rendering of Eliza’s family room. Uncharacteristically, William slid closer to Kara. He lightly touched his hand to her shoulder, and the physical contact seemed to make his calming influence stronger. The panic stayed dull, unfocused.

Sam’s lips were trembling with the speed of her words, the low buzzing impossible to decipher for Kara’s stricken mind; she couldn’t concentrate.

“Kara,” Sam called. She looked at her numbly. “Kara, Lena is coming to get you. She and Jack and Lionel are going to take you somewhere, to hide you for a while.”

“Lena is coming?” The words were like a life vest, holding her head above the flood.

“Yes, she’s catching the first flight out of Seattle. We’ll meet her at the airport, and you’ll leave with her.”

“But my sister… he came here for my sister, Sam!” Despite William, Kara’s hysteria bubbled up in her voice. She couldn’t lose a second family.

“William and I will stay till she’s safe.”

“I can’t win, Sam. You can’t guard everyone I know forever. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s not tracking me at all. He’ll find someone, he’ll hurt someone I love… Sam, I can’t—I have to do something—”

“We’ll catch him, Kara,” she assured, but it fell on deaf ears.

“And what if you get hurt, Sam? Do you think that’s okay with me? Do you think it’s only my human family he can hurt me with?” Sam looked meaningfully at William. A deep heavy fog of lethargy washed over Kara, and her eyes closed without her permission. Her mind struggled against the fog, realizing what was happening. Kara forced her eyes open and stood up, stepping away from William’s hand.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” she snapped, heat vision flaring up brightly behind her eyes.

She walked to her room and shut the door, slammed it really—a tight line between shaking the walls and ripping the door off its hinges—so she could be free to go to pieces privately. This time Sam didn’t follow her. For three and a half hours she stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking. Her mind went around in circles at a rapid speed, trying to come up with some way out of this nightmare. There was no escape, no reprieve. She could see only one possible end looming darkly in her future. The only question was how many other people would be hurt before Kara reached it.

The only solace, the only hope Kara had left in that moment, was knowing that she would see Lena soon. Maybe, if she could just see Lena’s face again, she would also be able to see the solution that eluded her now.

When the phone rang, Kara returned to the front room, a little ashamed of her behavior. She hoped she hadn’t offended either vampire, that they would know how grateful she was for the sacrifices they were making on her account. Sam was talking as rapidly as ever, but what caught Kara’s attention was that, for the first time, William was not in the room. Kara looked at the clock—it was five-thirty in the morning.

“They’re just boarding their plane,” Sam told her. “They’ll land at eight-thirty-five.” Just a few more hours to keep breathing until she was here.

“Where’s William?”

“He went to check out.”

“You aren’t staying here?”

“No, were relocating closer to Eliza’s home here.” Kara’s stomach twisted uneasily at her words.

But the phone rang again, distracting her. Sam looked surprised, but was already walking forward, reaching hopefully for the phone.

“Hello?” Sam asked. “No, she’s right here.” She held the phone out to Kara. Your sister, she mouthed.

“Hello?”

“Kara? Kara?” It was her sister’s voice, in a familiar tone Kara had heard a thousand times in the past few years, anytime she’d used her powers in public, did something too unexplainable. It was the sound of panic.

But something else was there too. Something tinny, something electronic—something not quite natural that her super-hearing picked up on.

It hit her then.

It’s not her, she mouthed back to Sam who frowned before motioning for Kara to play into it.

“Calm down, Alex,” she said in her most convincing voice, walking slowly, starting to pace. “Everything’s fine, okay? Just give me a minute and I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

Kara paused, moving the phone from her ear and putting it on speaker.

“Alex?”

“Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to.” The voice she heard now was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. It was a man’s tenor voice, a pleasant, generic voice—the kind of voice that you heard in the background of luxury car commercials. He spoke very quickly.

“Now, I don’t need to hurt you sister, so please do exactly as I say, and she’ll be fine.” He paused for a minute while Kara listened in mute boredom. She knew he didn’t have Alex. “That’s very good,” he congratulated. “Now repeat after me, and do try to sound natural. Please say, ‘No, Alex, stay where you are.’”

Sam rolled her eyes, momentarily amused as she crossed her arms. Despite sounding ‘natural’, a scowl was etched into Kara’s face. “No, Alex, stay where you are.”

“Good. Now say, ‘Alex, please listen to me.’ Say it now.”

“Alex, please listen to me,” her voice pleaded. Alex might even be impressed with her acting.

“Are you alone? Just answer yes or no.”

“Yes.” Kara lied easily.

“But they can still hear you, I’m sure.”

“Yes.”

“All right, then,” the agreeable voice continued, “say, ‘Alex, trust me.’”

“Alex, trust me.”

“This worked out rather better than I expected. I was prepared to wait, but your sister arrived ahead of schedule. It’s easier this way, isn’t it? Less suspense, less anxiety for you.”

Kara waited, fingers digging into the sofa’s arm and tearing through the fabric as if it was paper mache.

“Now, I want you to listen very carefully. I’m going to need you to get away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no.”

Kara glanced at Sam, who shook her head.

“No.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative than that. Do you think you could get away from them if your sister’s life depended on it? Answer yes or no.”

Kara debated. The airport. Simmons International Airport: crowded, confusingly laid out… Lena would be pissed.

Trust me, she mouthed to Sam who looked rather perplexed.

“Yes.”

“That’s better. I’m sure it won’t be easy, but if I get the slightest hint that you have any company, well, that would be very bad for your sister,” the friendly voice promised. “You must know enough about us by now to realize how quickly I would know if you tried to bring anyone along with you. And how little time I would need to deal with your sister if that was the case. Do you understand? Answer yes or no.”

“Yes.” Her voice was a double-edged sword.

“Very good, Kara. Now this is what you have to do. I want you to go to your sister’s house. Next to the phone there will be a number. Call it, and I’ll tell you where to go from there.” Kara already knew where she would go, and where this would end. But she would follow his instructions exactly. “Can you do that? Answer yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Before noon, please, Kara. I haven’t got all day,” he said politely—conversationally.

“It’s important, now, that you don’t make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them that your sister called, and that you talked her out of coming home for the time being. Now repeat after me, ‘Thank you, Alex.’ Say it now.”

“Thank you, Alex.”

“Say, ‘I love you, Alex, I’ll see you soon.’ Say it now.”

“I love you, Alex.” Her voice was convincingly thick. “I’ll see you soon,”

“Goodbye, Kara. I look forward to seeing you again.” He hung up.

“How are you sure he doesn’t have your sister?” Was Sam’s immediate questions as she moved to stand beside Kara.

“I could hear this sort of electronic buzzing—it was a recording of Alex. Not her. It didn’t sound human to me.” Sam nodded before moving to her next question.

“What’s your plan?”

“Do as he said.” Sam moved to speak but Kara cut her off. “He doesn’t know that I know he doesn’t have Alex. It works in our favor. I can’t tell you the rest.”

“Why not?” Her gaze was firm but not critical.

“Because Lena will hear your thoughts. I need it to be believable, and I need to buy time.”

“What if you get hurt? Lena would never—”

“Lena can’t get it through her stubborn skull that I’m invincible on this planet.” Kara smiled at the affectionate jab, and Sam let out a small breezy laugh. “And that’s an element of surprise. Ben thinks I’m a fragile human to be broken. He doesn’t know I’m unbreakable.”

Sam seemed to be genuinely considering it. “I need to write a letter… for Alex.” Sam raised an eyebrow, signaling that she didn’t believe Kara, but was allowing it for the sake of Kara’s crazed plan. “I need you to give it to her—leave it at the house, I mean.”

“Sure, Kara.” She shook her head, fetching Kara a piece of paper and a pen.

Lena, she wrote, I love you. I am so sorry. He has my sister, and I have to try. I know it may not work. I am so very, very sorry.

Don’t be angry with Sam and William. If I get away from them it will be a miracle. Tell them thank you for me. Sam, especially, please. And please, please, don’t come after him. That’s what he wants. I think. I can’t bear it if anyone has to be hurt because of me, especially you. Please, this is the only thing I can ask you now. For me. Zhao khuhp ripp. Forgive me.

Kara Zor-El

She folded the letter carefully, and sealed it in the envelope Sam had provided. Eventually she would find it. She only hoped Lena wasn’t too angry over her lying—over the whole situation really. She hoped Lena would listen to her just this once, but Lena was the most stubborn vampire she knew.

Kara knew she wouldn’t listen.

Chapter Text

“Hide-and-seek, grown up style. Wanting to hide. Needing to be sought. Confused about being found.”

― Robert Fulghum

It had taken much less time than Kara had thought—the initial terror, the despair, the shattering of her heart, knowing that Lena Luthor would follow her and potentially get hurt. The minutes were ticking by more slowly than usual. William still hadn’t come back. Kara would have thought she was far beyond the ability to be surprised, her thoughts tortured and unstable, but she was surprised when she saw Sam bent over the desk, gripping the edge with two hands.

“Sam?”

She didn’t react when Kara called her name, but her head was slowly rocking side to side, and she saw Sam’s face. Her eyes were blank, dazed…

Kara was at her side in a blur of movement, reaching out automatically to touch her hand.

“Sam!” William’s voice whipped, and then he was right behind Sam, his hands curling over hers, loosening them from their grip on the table. Across the room, the door swung shut with a low click.

“What is it?” he demanded.

She turned her face away from Kara’s, staring blankly at the floor. “Kara,”

“I’m right here,” she responded, confused and concerned.

Sam’s head twisted around, her eyes locking on Kara’s, their expression still strangely blank. Kara realized at once that Sam hadn’t been speaking to her, she’d been answering William’s question.

“What did you see?” Kara asked—but there was no question in her tone.

Willaim looked at Kara sharply. She kept her expression vacant and waited. His eyes were confused as they flickered swiftly between Sam’s face and Kara’s, feeling the chaos… for Kara could guess what Sam had seen now. She felt a tranquil atmosphere settle around her. Kara welcomed it, using it to keep her emotions disciplined, under control.

Sam, too, recovered herself.

“Nothing, really,” she answered finally, her voice remarkably calm and convincing.  “Just the same room as before.” Kara hated that Sam had to lie to her family for this to work, but in the same breath, she was grateful.

Sam finally looked at Kara, her expression smooth and withdrawn. “Did you want breakfast?”

“No, I’ll eat at the airport.” Kara was exceptionally calm. She went to the bathroom to shower, and it was almost as if she was borrowing William’s strange extra sense. She could feel Sam’s wild—though well-concealed—desperation to have Kara out of the room, to be alone with William. So she could tell him that they were doing something wrong, that they were going to fail…

Kara got ready methodically, concentrating on each small task. She left her hair down, loose curls swirling around her, framing her face. The peaceful mood William created worked its way through her and helped her think clearly. Helped her flesh out her plan. Kara dug through her bag until she found her sock full of money; she emptied it into her pocket.

She was anxious to get to the airport, and glad when they left by seven. Kara sat alone this time in the back of the dark car. Sam leaned against the door, her face toward William but, behind her sunglasses, shooting glances in Kara’s direction every few seconds.

“Sam?” Kara asked indifferently.

She was wary. “Yes?”

“How does it work? The things that you see?” she stared out the side window, her voice sounding bored. “Lena said it wasn’t definite… that things change?” It was harder than Kara would have thought to say her name. That must have been what alerted William, why a fresh wave of serenity filled the car.

“Yes, things change…” she mumbled. “Some things are more certain than others… like the weather. People are harder. I only see the course they’re on while they’re on it. Once they change their minds—make a new decision, no matter how small—the whole future shifts.”

Kara nodded thoughtfully. “So you couldn’t see Ben in National City until he decided to come here.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

And she hadn’t seen Kara in the mirror room with Ben until she’d made the decision to meet him there. Kara hoped to Rao Sam would be able to keep those thoughts from Lena. It felt impossible.

They got to the airport. The airport was a shrill cacophony of sounds that made Kara’s ears metaphorically bleed, but luck was with Kara, or maybe it was just good odds. Lena’s plane was landing in terminal four, the largest terminal, where most flights landed—so it wasn’t surprising that hers was. But it was the terminal Kara needed: the biggest, the most confusing. And there was a door on level three that would be her chance to slip past the vampires.

They parked on the fourth floor of the large garage. Kara led the way, for once more knowledgeable about her surroundings than they were. They took the elevator down to level three, where the passengers unloaded. Sam and William spent a long time looking at the departing flights board. Through the noise assaulting her senses, Kara could hear them discussing the pros and cons of Metropolis, Central City, Star City. Places Kara had never been.

Kara waited for her opportunity, impatient, unable to stop her foot from tapping in a near blur of motion. They sat in the long row of chairs by the metal detectors, William and Sam pretending to people-watch but really watching the Kryptonian. Every inch she shifted in her seat was followed by quick glances out of the corner of their eyes.

She pulled the unmarked envelope out of her pocket and set it on top of Sam’s black leather bag. Sam looked at her.

“My letter,” Sam nodded, tucking it under the top flap. Lena would find it soon enough.

The minutes passed and Lena’s arrival grew closer. It was incredible how every cell in her body seemed to know she was coming, to long for her coming. That made it more difficult. Kara found herself trying to think of excuses to stay, to see Lena first and then make her escape. But she knew that was impossible if she was going to have any chance to get away and use the element of surprise she had. Several times Sam offered to go get breakfast with Kara. Later, Kara told her, not yet.

She stared at the arrival board, watching s flight after flight arrived on time. The flight from Seattle crept closer to the top of the board. And then, when she had only thirty minutes to make her escape, the numbers changed. Her plane was ten minutes early. She had no more time. Kara wished in that moment that teleportation was in her skill set.

“I think I’ll eat now,” Kara said quickly.

Sam stood. “I’ll come with you.”

“Do you mind if William comes instead?” Kara asked, desperate but her voice not conveying it. “I’m feeling a little…” she didn’t finish her sentence, her eyes wild enough to convey what she didn’t say.

William stood up; Sam’s eyes were confused, but—to Kara’s relief—resolved, trusting of whatever Kara was doing and essentially letting Kara escape the confines of the airport.

William walked silently behind Kara, his hand on the small of her back, as if he was guiding her. She pretended to have a lack of interest in the first few airport cafes, despite being ravenous, as her eyes scanned for what she really wanted. And there it was, around the corner, out of Sam’s eyesight: the level three ladies’ room.

“Do you mind?” Kara asked William as they passed. “I’ll be just a moment.”

“I’ll be right here,” he replied.

As soon as the door shut behind Kara, she was running. She remembered—as she always did—the last time she had gotten lost from this bathroom, because it had two exits. Outside the far door it was only a short sprint to the elevators, and if William stayed where he said he would, she’d never be in his line of sight. Kara didn’t look behind her as she ran as fast as humanly acceptable. People stared, but she ignored them. Around the corner, the elevators were waiting, and she dashed forward, throwing her hand between the closing doors of a full elevator headed down. She squeezed in beside the irritated passengers and checked to make sure that the button for level one had been pushed. It was already lit, and the doors slid closed.

As soon as the door opened, she was off again, to the sound of annoyed murmurs behind her. She slowed herself momentarily as she passed the security guards by the luggage carousels, only to break into a run again as the exit doors came into view. With the quiet, non-breathing, lack of heartbeat nature of vampires, Kara had no way of knowing if William was looking for her yet in this crowded airport. She would only have seconds if he was following her scent. Kara jumped out the automatic doors, nearly shattering it by running into it as they opened too slowly.

Along the crowded curb there wasn’t a cab in sight. She desperately wished it wasn’t broad daylight, she wished she could openly use her powers. It wouldn’t be so difficult to get where she needed with a hop and skip of flight. She had no time. William was either about to realize she was gone, or already did.

A shuttle to the Hyatt was just closing its doors a few feet behind Kara.

“Wait!” she called, running, waving at the driver.

“This is the shuttle to the Hyatt,” the driver said in confusion as he opened the doors.

“Yes,” she huffed, “that’s where I’m going.” Kara hurried up the steps. He looked askance at her luggage-less state, but then shrugged, not caring enough to ask.

Most of the seats were empty. Kara sat as far from the other travelers as possible, and watched out the window as first the sidewalk, and then the airport drifted away. She couldn’t help imagining Lena, where she would stand at the edge of the road when she found the end of Kara’s trail. She felt overwhelming guilt over that prospect, knowing how Lena would worry. But she couldn’t dwell on it, she had to get to Ben first. Her luck held. In front of the Hyatt, a tired-looking couple was getting their last suitcase out of the trunk of a cab. Without any manners in sight, Kara jumped out of the shuttle and ran to the cab, sliding into the seat behind the driver. The tired couple and the shuttle driver stared at her.

She told the cab driver Eliza’s address. “I need to get there as soon as possible.”

“That’s across town,” he complained.

Feeling a lot like a certain Luthor, she threw five twenties over the seat. “Will that be enough?”

“Sure, kid, no problem.”

She sat back against the seat, folding her arms across her chest, hands hugging her biceps to keep from accidentally destroying the seat with her hands. The familiar city began to rush around her, but Kara didn’t look out the windows. She exerted herself to maintain control. She was determined not to lose herself at this point, now that her plan was successfully completed. There was no point in indulging in more anxiety, more terror for the Luthors. Her path was set, she was going to protect the strange coven of vampires. She just had to follow it now.

So, instead of worrying, she closed her eyes and spent the twenty-minute drive with Lena.

Kara imagined that she had stayed at the airport to met Lena. She visualized how she would scan above the heads in the crowd to sooner see her face. How quickly, how gracefully she would move through the crowds of people separating them. And then when Kara would run to close those last few feet between them—reckless as always—and would be in her marble arms, finally home. Kara wondered where they would have gone. North somewhere, so Lena could be outside in the day. Or maybe somewhere remote, so they could lay in the sun together again. She imagined Lena by the shore, her skin sparkling like the sea. It wouldn’t matter how long they had to hide. To be trapped in a hotel room with her would be enough. So many questions Kara still had for her. She could talk to Lena forever, never sleeping, never leaving her side.

She could see Lena’s face clearly, each detail etched permanently into Kara’s memory, could hear Lena’s monotone tenor as she told some dry joke. And, despite the plethora of negative emotions roped around her ribcage, she was fleetingly happy. So involved in her escapist daydreams, she lost all track of the seconds racing by.

“Hey, what’s the number?”

The cab driver’s question punctured her fantasy, letting all the colors run out her lovely fantasies. Anxiety, bleak and hard, was waiting to fill the empty space they left behind.

“Fifty eight twenty one,” her voice sounded strangled and the driver looked at her, nervous.

“Here we are then.”

“Thank you,” Kara whispered. She tried to remind herself there was no need to be afraid. Nothing could hurt her; she wasn’t afraid for herself. But she was afraid of what this vampire could do to her vampires.

She walked to the door, trying to keep herself human, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the eave. She unlocked the door, and it was dark inside, empty, normal. Kara approached the phone, turning on the kitchen light on her way. There, on the white board, was a ten-digit number written in a small, neat hand. It was an effort for Kara to not shatter the phone in her shaking, furious grasp. It rang only once.

“Hello, Kara,” that easy voice answered. “That was very quick. I’m impressed.”

“Is my sister all right?” she kept up the charade, focusing on her sister’s heartbeat three hundred miles away in San Francisco.

“She’s perfectly fine. Don’t worry, Kara. I have no quarrel with her. Unless you didn’t come alone, of course.” Light, amused.

“I’m alone.” The same way she always felt on this planet. Until Lena. That was worth everything within itself.

“Very good.” Kara was beginning to wonder if ‘very’ was the only word in this man’s vocabulary. “Now, do you know the ballet studio just around the corner from your home?”

“Yes. I know how to get there.”

“Well, then, I’ll see you very soon.”

Kara hung up, the phone shattering with the crack of plastic as her strength came undone, one step further from human, one step further from something she would never be.

She bolted from the room, through the door, out into the California heat. She didn’t waste time on looking back at the house, at the sentimentally—the last person to walk through those familiar rooms was her enemy.

She felt slow, like she was running through wet sand—burdened by the necessity to appear human when she was anything but. As she rounded the corner, her senses seemed to be in overdrive. The city was too loud, the sun too bright. She was beginning to lose control. More than ever, she wished for the green, quiet forests of Forks… of home.

When she rounded the last corner, onto Cypress, she could see the studio, looking just as her memory recalled. The parking lot in front was empty, vertical blinds in all the windows drawn. A quick scan of x-ray vision confirmed that Ben was the only one here, the essence of a predator. On the door was a handwritten note on hot pink paper; the dance studio was closed for spring break. Kara’s hand landed on the handle and tugged on it cautiously; she couldn’t give herself away yet, no matter how much she wanted to pulverize her way through it. It was unlocked, and she walked in.

The lobby was dark and empty, cool, the air conditioner thrumming. The plastic molded chairs were stacked along the walls, and the carpet held a tang of shampoo. The west dance floor was dark, but the east dance floor, the bigger room, was lit. The blinds remained closed on the windows.

And then her sister’s voice called.

“Kara? Kara?” That same tone of panic, only now the electronic buzz was deafening and false.

“Kara, you scared me! What if it’s radioactive?” She heard a laugh, and whirled to the sound.

There she was, on the TV screen, laughing in parts wonder and skepticism. It was Kara’s first Thanksgiving; she was fourteen and had just heated the turkey up with a burst of heat vison—that part had been cut from the video, the screen going Blue.

Kara could send the minute disturbance in the air. She turned slowly. He was standing as still as a statue by the back exit. In his hand was a remote. They stared at one another for a long moment, and then he smiled.

He walked toward Kara, quite close, and then passed her to put the remote down next to the VCR. Kara watched him carefully, her body nearly vibrating in expectation, her powers wanting to break free in her anger. It was a battle to keep her heat vison at bay.

“Sorry about that, Kara, but isn’t it better that your sister didn’t really have to be involved in all this?” His voice was courteous, kind.

“Yes,” Kara responded, her voice saturated with genuine relief.

“You don’t sound angry that I tricked you.”

“I’m not.” She was never tricked to begin with.

“How odd. You really mean it.” His dark eyes assessed Kara with interest. The irises were nearly black, just a hint of ruby around the edges. Thirsty. “I will give your strange coven this much, you humans can be quite interesting. I guess I can see the draw of observing you. It’s amazing—some of you seem to have no sense of your own self-interest at all.”

He was standing a few feet away from Kara, arms folded, looking at her with intrigue. There was no menace in his face or stance. He was so incredibly average-looking, nothing remarkable about his face or body at all. Just the white skin, the circled eyes she’d grown so used to. He wore a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt and faded blue jeans.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that your girlfriend will avenge you?” he asked, hopefully it seemed.

“No, I don’t think so. At least, I asked her not to.” She knew Lena would appear anyway.

“And what was her reply to that?”

“I don’t know.” It was strangely easy to converse with this hunter. “I left her a letter.”

“How romantic, a last letter. And do you think she will honor it?” Kara almost wanted to scoff. Lena was far too stubborn for that.

“I hope so.” She replied instead.

“Hmmm. Well, our hopes differ then. You see, this was all just a little too easy, too quick. To be quite honest, I’m disappointed. I expected a much greater challenge. And, after all, I only needed a little luck.” Kara waited in silence, still not giving anything away. She felt like Kal in that moment, as if she was embodying a different persona, one unwavering and made of steel.

“When Eve couldn’t get to your mother, I had her find out more about you. There was no sense in running all over the planet chasing you down when I could comfortably wait for you in a place of my choosing. So, after I talked to Eve, I decided to come to National City, looking for your sister. I’d heard you say you were going home. At first, I never dreamed you meant it. But then I wondered. Humans can be very predictable; they like to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. And wouldn’t it be a perfect ploy, to go to the last place you should be when you’re hiding—the place that you said you’d be

“But of course I wasn’t sure, it was just a hunch. I usually get a feeling about the prey I’m hunting, a sixth sense, if you will. Of course, I couldn’t be sure, you could’ve been in Antarctica for all I knew. And the game wouldn’t work unless you were close by.

“Then your girlfriend got on a plane to National City. Eve was monitoring them for me, naturally; in a game with this many players, I couldn’t be working alone. And so, they told me what I’d hoped, that you were here after all. I was prepared; I’d already been through your charming home movies. And then it was simply a matter of the bluff.

“Very easy, you know, not really up to my standards. So, you see, I’m hoping you’re wrong about your girlfriend. Lena, isn’t it?” Kara didn’t answer, keeping her heat vision at bay was becoming a momentous task. She sensed he was coming to the end of his gloat. It wasn’t meant for her anyway. There was no glory in beating Kara, a “weak human.”

“Would you mind, very much, if I left a little letter of my own for your Lena?”

The hunter took a step back and touched a palm-sized digital camera balance carefully on top of the stereo. A small red light indicated that it was already running. He adjusted it a few times, widening the frame. Her anger bubbled.

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t think she’ll be able to resist hunting me after she watches this. And I wouldn’t want her to miss anything. It was all for her, of course. You’re simply a human, who unfortunately was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and indisputably running with the wrong crowd, I might add.”

He stepped toward Kara, smiling. “Before we begin…” Kara fought the scowl, fought digging her heels into the ground and unleashing her heat vision.

“I would just like to rub it in, just a little bit. The answer was there all along, and I was afraid Lena would see that and ruin my fun. It happened once, oh, ages ago. The one and only time my prey escaped me.

“You see, the vampire who was so stupidly fond of this little victim made the choice that your Lena was too weak to make. When the old one knew I was after his little friend, he stole her from the asylum where he worked—I never understood the obsession some vampires seem to form with you humans — and as soon as he freed her, he made her safe. She didn't even seem to notice the pain, poor little creature. She'd been stuck in that black hole of a cell for so long. A hundred years earlier and she would have been burned at the stake for her visions. In the nineteen-twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatments. When she opened her eyes, strong with her fresh youth, it was like she'd never seen the sun before. The old vampire made her a strong new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch her then.” He sighed. “I destroyed the old one in vengeance.”

“Sam,” Kara breathed, astonished.

“Yes, your little friend. I was surprised to see her in the clearing. So, I guess her coven ought to be able to derive some comfort from this experience. I get you, but they get her. The one victim who escaped me, quite an honor.

“And she did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to taste… She smelled even better than you do. Sorry—I don’t mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Sunshine, somehow…” He took another step toward Kara, till he was just inches away. He lifted a lock of golden hair and sniffed at it delicately. Kara felt repulsed. He released the strand, patting it back into place, before she felt his cool fingertips against her throat. He reached up to stroke her cheek once quickly with his thumb, his face curious. Kara’s teeth ground together.

“No,” he mumbled to himself as he dropped his hand. “I don’t understand.” He sighed. “Well, I suppose we should get on with it. And then I can call your friends and tell them where to find you, and my little message.”

Kara could see what he wanted in his eyes. He didn’t want this to be quick and painless. He wanted it to be painful and dragged on.

He stepped back, and began to circle, casually, as if he were trying to get a better view of a statue in a museum. His face was still open and friendly as he decided where to start.

Then he slumped forward, into a crouch Kara recognized, and his pleasant smile slowly widened, grew, till it wasn’t a smile at all but a contortion of teeth. Kara was sure he expected her to run. But she didn’t.

She was stock still as he lurched forward with the vampiric speed he possessed. His fist was poised, ready to strike, but in an easy movement, Kara side stepped him, and he stumbled. He was scowling and confused before he struck like a cobra again.

Kara allowed to contact to hit, his fist slamming into her cheek. She didn’t budge an inch, and as his marble fist connected, there was a sickening creaking sound. He wailed in pain, his face contorting more monstrously, his friendly pretense dissolving all at once.

“What the hell?” He snarled animalistically before lurching again. They grappled with one another, and within a millisecond, as it became apparent that Kara was stronger, fear overtook this vampire’s face for the first time. Kara threw him, the sound of glass shattering echoing off the cavernous room.

He was stunned but resilient, scrambling to his feet in another blur of movement. He charged, and somehow, they found themselves in a blur of movement as they tussled over the floor, craters forming in the floor with each movement, glass raining down all around them.

Kara pinned him in a crater so deep that dirt had settled over the vampire’s snarling face. “You will never hurt my coven again,” heat flared behind her eyes, and though the vampire didn’t know exactly what that entailed, Kara was sure he got the idea, and he stopped fighting back.

It didn’t last long. A sickening growl rose from the hunter’s throat as he threw Kara across the room. She landed in the far wall, the drywall raining down around her, framing her as  she extricated herself easily. She knew now vampires could feel pain.

She didn’t.

Chapter Text

“Monsters will always exist. There's one inside each of us. But an angel lives there, too. There is no more important agenda than figuring out how to slay one and nurture the other.”

― Jacqueline Novogratz

Once again, the pair was moving in a blur of chaotic motion, colors streaking in their whirlwind, glass breaking, the ground being torn apart, and the walls shaking with the force of impact after impact. Stone hands were wrapped tightly around Kara’s throat, and she wildly kicked her foot out. There was a howl of pain, a limb bent all wrong, and another blur of movement. There was an echo, one so deafening that it could have been roaring thunder in the room with them, as Kara’s steel fist connected with granite skin. His face was disfigured, another sickening creak of vampiric skin ringing in the air. They circled one another, and a flicker of hubris flashed in the vampire’s eyes before he was hurtling toward Kara again.

Then there was something else, something beautiful in their destruction, something as uplifting as it was ghastly. It was another snarl, a deeper wilder roar that rang with fury.

The angel was calling her name, calling her to a heaven she didn’t believe in. It distracted Kara long enough for her to be thrown across the room, but with a burst of flight she corrected herself, hurtling toward the hunter and plunging him several feet into the earth. The human eye wouldn’t be able the see the barrage of her fist striking again and again and again with unbidden speed and strength, restraint absent from Kara’s form.

“Kara!” the angel’s voice cried in horror.

The beast beneath Kara snarled and snapped its jaws toward her. She felt the force of teeth biting into her arm, a strange imprint of pain ripping up her forearm before there was another crack and the teeth came loose. The deranged vampire let out an unintelligible sound before pushing against her again. They were in another blur of movement before the vampire changed course.

Toward the dark-haired snarling angel. Lena was fast, but not as strong as the other vampire, and she was sent flying high into the windows with a grunt of pain. Kara’s heat vision flared to life behind her eyes, anger clouding her. Her foot crunched over her glasses, but it didn’t matter, they’d been shattered minutes ago. She reached Ben, flinging him away from Lena with the force of a nuke, a blast of heat vision hitting him square in the chest. He screamed and flailed as he ignited—as if he was paper, the fire was spreading and consuming. Kara was prepared to kill him, to take a life, but something tugged at her arm, and she spun around roughly, heat vision threatening whoever it was.

Blazing golden eyes struck against the white hot of Kara’s, which immediately faded to a blaze of blue. Somewhere behind her, after her fight with Ben, she heard what suspiciously sounded like a vampire being ripped apart behind her, but that didn’t matter. Because Lena Luthor was standing in front of her, her hair wind whipped, and inhuman eyes wild. “I won’t let you have the burden of taking a—”

There was a creak of marble as Kara crushed herself against Lena, no longer caring for her desolate surroundings. Despite the fact Lena didn’t need to breathe, she let out a wheeze of a noise.

“You’re a lot stronger than me,” she grunted, and Kara reluctantly lessened her grip, but kept her hold firm. Lena’s cool hand splayed across the back of Kara’s tattered shirt, her other hand cradling the back of her head as she nuzzled her face into Kara’s neck. The scent of cinnamon and old books was almost enough to lessen the ache in chest, the fear of losing Lena sitting like lead in her stomach.

“I love you,” Kara breathed, a tear making its escape.

“I know,” She whispered into her neck just as fervently as Kara who finally pulled back enough to look into Lena’s eyes. “Your sister is safe?”

She tilted her head, searching for Alex’s heartbeat across the state. She found the rhythmic thumping easily. “Yes. Still at Stanford in San Fran.” Fire crackled somewhere behind Kara as a struggle died out.

“Sam.” Kara suddenly remembered. Sam was at her side in an instant, looking just as worried as Lena did. “Sam, the video—he knew you, Sam, he knew where you came from.” It was urgent, but the pungent smell of gasoline assaulted her, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

It was an image, over Sam’s shoulder, that Kara would never forget. Ben was being torn apart and set further ablaze.

The look in Sam’s eyes was distant as she looked toward the burning vampire. A thousand emotions were no doubt running amuck in Sam’s head. “We need to leave.”

Chapter Text

“Each blockage is a blockage. Each impasse is an impasse. You have to find a solution; there is no recipe that fits each one of them.

― Roberto Azevedo

Kara’s eyes opened to a warm, yellow light. She was in an unfamiliar room, a beige room. The wall beside her was covered in long dark curtains. The light seemed to be illuminating from the bed side lamp. Her head was rested against cool marble—Lena’s shoulder. They must be in a different hotel.

“Lena?” she mumbled into the stillness.

“Hmm?”

“Where are we?”

“In a hotel a few miles from the airport. You must have exhausted yourself, darling. Passed out almost as soon as we left the dance studio.” Lena’s tone was warm, affectionate, but cautious and curious all the same.

“I need to call Eliza and Alex,”

“Sam called them. She told them both that she had intercepted you, let you have some time to settle down, work through your emotions.” She was laughing and Kara groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Not a conversation I look forward to.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I’m sorry. For leaving, for bringing Sam into it…” Lena squeezed her shoulder, shaking her head.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you’re just as stubborn as I am. But you didn’t get hurt, so how can I be angry?”

Kara hummed, letting the words sink in. “What happened to Ben?” she still couldn’t reconcile the image of his burning body with reality.

Lena’s chest moved with the weight of her sigh. “After I pulled you away, Jack and William took care of him.” There was a fierce note of regret in her voice.

“Are Sam and Lionel okay?”

“Always a worrier… yes, they’re okay. Sam worked hard to keep me out of her head you know.”

Kara jumped to the next question. “Did Sam see the tape?”

“Yes.” A strange tone entered Lena’s voice, one Kara couldn’t quite place.

“She was always in the dark, that’s why she didn’t remember.”

“I know. She understands now.” Her voice was even, but her face was solemn. Kara turned carefully, angling Lena’s head to place a firm kiss against those cool lips. Lena pulled back with a huff but Kara snaked her hand around the pale expanse of her neck.

“I’m not finished kissing you,” she complained.

Lena grinned, and darted in quickly for another chaste kiss, before pulling away, and moving to stand. The crinkle formed between her brows. “Sam’s here, with food.” She perked up immediately, her previous anxiety gone completely and replaced with the ravenous urge to eat. That was probably why she’d fallen asleep—she wasn’t sufficiently keeping up with her Kryptonian metabolism.

It appeared that Sam had ordered double of literally every item on the menu, all of which Kara essentially inhaled, all to the amusement of the Luthors lurking about the hotel room.

They lazed about most of the day, waiting for the glaring California sun to descend across the horizon, lest they blind the populace of National City with their sparkling skin. There was a weight lifted off of everyone’s shoulders, but Kara could still see the taught line of guilt across Lena’s.

When they were alone, later that night in the private cabin of an airplane that Kara didn’t want to know the price of, Lena had tried to leave. The guilt was immense, and Lena was ashamed of putting Kara in danger. But that was all it was, an impasse before Kara cleared away that guilt as best she could. Kara was unbreakable and Lena had kept her human family safe.

“No, I don’t want to be without you, Kara, of course not. Be rational. If it weren’t for the fact that I was the one putting you in danger… that’s I’m the reason you almost killed someone…” That sank deeply within Kara’s gut.

“There’s never one sole reason that leads to events, Lena. You’ve been on this planet long enough to understand that, I’m sure.” A dark brow quirked up, but Kara continued. “I’m not human, that’s true, but you protected my family. And sometimes, I’m more alien than I am human. You didn’t make me almost kill someone—Ben would have killed a number of people if he wasn’t stopped. Even if it was hard, it was an easy decision.”

“How is that an easy decision? Especially for you, I—”

“Lena.” She interrupted softly, loosening Lena’s grip on the armrest and pulling the pale hand into her own. “Things are different on Krypton. He’s a threat, and the council would have taken action quickly. On Krypton, he would have received a worse fate then death. The Phantom Zone.  I don’t know if I could live with myself if I… If I killed someone… but I do know it was an act of mercy, considering where I come from.”

Lena didn’t seem to appreciate that, the knowledge that Kara would have taken a life, not knowing whether she would be able to handle the guilt, but she let it go, let it slide off her as she conceded.

“Promise me,” Kara had whispered.

“What?”

“You know what,” Kara wouldn’t allow Lena to dwell on the negative.

“I don’t seem to be strong enough to stay away from you, so I suppose that you’ll get your way.”

“Good.” She hadn’t promised, but it was enough for now.

Enough for a lifetime.

Chapter Text

“If coming events are said to cast their shadows before, past events cannot fall to leave their impress behind them.

― Helena Blavatsky

Lena, being the woman she is, helped Kara into the car, being careful of silk and chiffon, the flowers she’d just pinned into Kara’s elaborately styled curls. She ignored the pouting set of Kara’s mouth as she slid into the driver’s seat and head back out the long narrow drive.

“At what point exactly are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Kara wasn’t particularly grumpy, she just didn’t like surprises. The unknown was terrifying to her. Lena knew that.

“I’m shocked that you haven’t figured it out yet.” She threw a false mocking smile in Kara’s direction, and Kara’s breath caught in her throat. She was beginning to question if she’d ever get used to Lena’s perfection.

“I did mention that you looked stunning, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” Lena grinned again. Kara had never seen her dress in black before, and, with the contrast against her pale skin, her beauty was absolutely surreal. That much Kara couldn’t deny, even if the fact that Lena was wearing an all-black tuxedo made Kara nervous.

Not quite as nervous as the dress. Or the shoes. The stiletto heel certainly wasn’t going to help Kara as she attempted to not make craters in the floor with each step.

“I’m not coming over anymore if Sam is going to treat me like a Guinea Pig Barbie when I do,” Kara griped with no real steam. She’d spent the better part of her day in Sam’s staggeringly vast bathroom as she played hairdresser and cosmetician, but Kara didn’t truly mind all that much. It seemed to make Sam happy, and whenever Kara fidgeted or teased Sam, she reminded Kara that she didn’t have any memories of being human, and that she was living vicariously through Kara. Then Sam had dressed her in a deep blue, high slit, off the shoulders dress—with French tags Kara couldn’t quite read, a dress more suitable for a runway than Forks. Kara had an idea of what was happening, but she was afraid to put her suspicions into words.

She was distracted then by the sound of a phone ringing. Lena pulled her cell phone from a pocket inside her jacket, looking briefly at the caller ID before answering.

“Hello, Eliza,” she answered warily.

“Eliza?” Kara frowned, worried

Eliza had been… difficult since Kara’s return to Forks. She had compartmentalized her bad experience into two defined reaction. Toward Lionel she was almost worshipfully grateful, since he had “taken” Lena and Sam to bring Kara home. On the other hand, she was stubbornly convinced that Lena was at faut—because, if not for her, Kara wouldn’t have fled from Forks in the first place. And Lena was far from disagreeing with her. These days Kara had rules that hadn’t existed before: curfew… visiting hours. But even as Eliza compartmentalized, Kara could still see the hurt behind her blue eyes, Kara’s words sticking to her memory. Eliza had accepted Kara’s apology when she returned, the ordeal a sobbing mess as Kara clung to Eliza as she expressed forgiveness. Kara wasn’t sure she could forgive herself.

Something Eliza was saying made Lena’s eyes widen in disbelief, and then a grin spread across her face, dimpling her cheeks slightly.

“You’re kidding!” she laughed.

A crinkled formed between Kara’s brows. “What is it”

Lena ignored her. “Why don’t you let me talk to him?” Lena suggested with evident pleasure. She waited for a few seconds.

“Hello, Adam, this is Lena Luthor.” Her voice was friendly, on the surface, but Kara knew it well enough to catch the soft edge of menace. What was Adam doing at her house? The awful truth began to dawn on Kara. She looked again at the dress Sam had put her in.

“I’m sorry if there’s been some kind of miscommunication, but Kara is unavailable tonight.” Lena’s tone changed, and the threat in her voice was suddenly much more evident as she continued. “To be perfectly honest, she’ll be unavailable every night, as far as anyone besides myself is concerned. No offense. And I’m sorry about your evening.” She didn’t sound sorry at all, and then she was hanging up the phone, a huge smirk on her face.

Kara’s face and neck flushed crimson with an emotion she couldn’t describe.

Lena looked at her in surprise. “Was that last part a bit too much? I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Kara side stepped that.

“You’re taking me to prom!” She breathed in a rush, not angry but surprised and embarrassed. It was embarrassingly obvious now. If Kara had been paying any attention at all, she was sure she would have noticed the date on the posters that decorated the school buildings. But she never dreamed Lena was thinking of subjecting her to this.

Lena’s brow ticked up. “I wasn’t aware you hated dances so much.”

She was mortified. First, because she’d missed the obvious. And also, because the vague suspicions—expectations, really—that Kara’d been forming all day, as Sam transformed her into a different person, were so far wide off the mark. Her half-fearful hopes seemed very silly now. She had guessed there was some kind of occasion brewing. But prom? That was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Lena, I—I can’t dance, I mean—” Smoldering green eyes scorched Kara.

“Humor me,” she insisted. But Kara didn’t dance. Kenny wasn’t the only person Kara had broken a nose while dancing—she even broken a few toes of those who dared to dance with her. For someone with all the power in the world, she was exceptionally clumsy since all her energy was spent focusing on not shattering the Earth. But Lena’s eyes were blazing, that strange green with flecks of grey, the one eye that was slightly bluer.

“Fine,” Kara relented, hoping she wouldn’t break the stone façade of her vampire. “I’ll go quietly, but you can’t fault me if I break anything.” Lena’s answering smile was unbidden and full of affection as she gave Kara another once over.

“Hmmm,” she was staring, eye lingering on the bare tan skin of Kara’s leg that was visible through the slit. “Remind me to thank Sam for that tonight.”

“Sam is going to be there?”

“With William, and Jack, and Andrea.” She admitted. There had been progress with Andrea. It seemed that Kara being far from human offered the vampire some sort of comfort. And she was on good terms with Jack, who enjoyed having Kara around—he thought the bizarre powers Kara possessed were intriguing and at times hilarious.

“Is Eliza in on this?” Kara asked, adjusting her spare glasses nervously.

“Of course.” Lena’s wide grin was interrupted by laughter. “Apparently Adam wasn’t though.”

Kara grit her teeth in annoyance. She didn’t understand how Adam could be so delusional. At school, where Eliza couldn’t hover, Lena and Kara were inseparable—except for those rare sunny days.

They were at the school now; Andrea’s red convertible was conspicuous in the parking lot. The clouds were thin today, a few streaks of sunlight escaping through far away in the west.

Lena got out and walked around the car to open Kara’s door, holding her hand out. Kara stared at her, eyes wide with the potential of disaster.

Lena sighed, eyes flickering gold for a moment before settling back into their usual verdant green. “When someone wants to kill you, you’re made of steel—and then when someone mentions dancing…” Lena was shaking her head, the long raven hair pin straight, accentuating those damning eyes further. “Kara, there’s no way you’re going to hurt me dancing. And I’m not letting go of you tonight.”

Kara wasn’t so sure. After her fight with Ben—after the damage she had inflicted… the sickening creak of him being torn apart beneath her was ever present. But Lena’s eyes were disarming, and she could see it the moment Kara relented. Her smile brightened and she pulled Kara from the car.

The cool weight of Lena’s hand at the small of her back never left as they made their way to the school.

In National City, they held proms in hotel ballrooms. This dance was in the gym, of course. It was probably the only room in town big enough for a dance. When they got inside, Kara laughed with glee. Like the movies she watched after crashing to Earth, there were actual balloon arches and twisted garlands of pastel crepe paper festooning the walls. It was cliché and hideous, but Kara loved it.

“This looks like a horror movie waiting to happen,”

“Well,” Lena exhaled, slowly approaching the ticket table. “There are more than enough vampires present.” Kara looked at the dance floor; a wide gap had formed in the center of the floor, were two pairs whirled gracefully. The other dancers pressed to the sides of the room to give them space—no one wanted to stand in contrast with such radiance. Jack and William were intimidating and flawless in classic tuxedos. Sam was striking in a black satin dress with geometric cutouts that bared large triangles of her pale bronze skin. And Andrea was… well, Andrea. She was beyond belief. Her vivid scarlet dress was backless, tight to her calves where it flared, with a necklines that plunged to her waist.

“Do you want me to bolt the doors so you can massacre the unsuspecting townsfolk?’ Kara whispered conspiratorially.

“And where do you fit in that scheme?” The signature brow quirked up again.

“Oh, I’m with the vampires, of course.”

Lena smiled reluctantly. “Anything to get out of dancing.”

“Anything.”

Lena bought their tickets, then turned Kara toward the dance floor, towing her to where her family was twirling elegantly—if in a style totally unsuitable to the present time and music. Kara watched with fear.

“Lena.” Her throat felt dry as she managed only a whisper that she knew Lena would hear flawlessly. “I honestly can’t dance!”

“Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered back. “I’ll teach you.” Despite Kara’s heels making her even taller than Lena than usual, she slipped Kara’s arms around her neck and began leading.

Suddenly they were whirling too. With Lena’s confident guidance, Kara fell into step easily, as if she was shedding the clumsy Kara Danvers front and slipping into the confident and bright Kara Zor-El. They waltzed as if it was the easiest thing in the world, and Lena was bewitched.

“I thought you couldn’t dance?” her lips pulled into a crooked smile of wonder.

“Maybe I just can’t dance with humans.” Sam caught her eye on a turn and smiled in encouragement—Kara smiled back. She was surprised that she was enjoying herself. Every dance prior had been… something.

Then Lena’s eyes snapped toward the doors, and they faded into a dull gold.

“What is it?” Kara wondered aloud, following Lena’s gaze before she found the object of Lena’s ire. Maggie Sawyer, not dressed in formal attire, but in a long-sleeved white shirt, her hair smoothed back into a ponytail, was crossing the floor toward them. After the first shock of recognition, Kara couldn’t help but feel bad for Maggie. She was clearly uncomfortable—excruciatingly so. Her face was apologetic as her eyes met Kara’s.

A low, quiet rumble made its way from Lena’s throat.

“Behave,” Kara hissed, eyes flitting between Lena and Maggie.

Lena’s voice was scathing and cold. “She wants to chat with you.” Maggie reached them then, the embarrassment and apology even more evident on her face.

“Hey, Kara, I was hoping you would be here.” Maggie sounded like she’d been hoping for the exact opposite. But her smile was just as warm as ever, classic Maggie dimples on full display.

“Hi, Maggie.” She smiled back. “What’s up?”

“Can I cut in?” she asked tentatively, glancing up at Lena for the first time. Lena’s face was composed, but her expression blank. Her only answer was to carefully remove Kara’s arm from around her neck and take a step back.

“Thanks,” Maggie said amiably.

Lena just nodded, looking at Kara intently before she turned to walk away. Maggie put her hands on Kara’s waist—she certainly wasn’t tall enough to place them around her neck.

They weren’t really dancing—their height difference made that impossible. Instead, they swayed awkwardly from side to side without moving their feet.

“So, how did you end up here tonight?” She asked without true curiosity. Considering Lena’s reaction, she could guess.

“Can you believe my aunt paid me twenty bucks to come to your prom?” she admitted, slightly ashamed.

“Yes, I can,” Kara sighed. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying yourself, at least. Seen anything you like?” Kara teased, nodding toward a group of girls lined up against the wall like pastel confections.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “But she’s taken.” Maggie looked up to meet Kara’s curious and perplexed gaze for just a second—then they both looked away, awkwardness falling around them.

“You look really pretty, by the way,” she added charmingly.

“Uh, thanks, Maggie… so why did Wyonna pay you to come here?” Kara asked quickly, though she knew the answer. She fought the urge to fiddle with her glasses.

Maggie didn’t seem grateful for the subject change; she looked away, uncomfortable again. “She said it was a ‘safe’ place to talk to you. I swear the old lady is losing her mind.”

Kara joined in her laughter weakly.

“Anyway, she said that if I told you something, she would get me that master cylinder I need,” she confessed with a sheepish grin.

“Tell me, then. I want you to get your car finished.” Kara grinned back. At least Maggie didn’t believe any of this. It made the situation a bit easier. Against the wall, Lena was watching Kara’s face, her own face expressionless. Kara saw a sophomore with a pink handkerchief on his suit jacket eyeing her with timid speculation, but Lena didn’t seem to be aware of him.

Maggie looked away again, ashamed. “Don’t get mad, okay?”

“There’s no way I’ll be mad at you, Maggie,” Kara assured her. “I won’t even be mad at Wyonna. Just say what you have to.”

“Well—this is stupid, I’m sorry, Kara—she wants you to break up with your girlfriend. She asked me to tell you ‘please.’” She shook her head in disgust.

“She’s still superstitious, huh?” Kara laughed awkwardly, her gaze briefly meeting Lena’s across the distance.

“Yeah. She was… kind of over the top when you left Forks. She didn’t believe you just…”

“Left?” Kara supplied. “Lena didn’t kidnap me or anything.”

“I know that.” Maggie amended quickly. She wouldn’t meet Kara’s eyes. They weren’t even bothering to sway to the music anymore, though Maggie’s warm hands were still on Kara’s waist. She missed the cool expanse of Lena’s touch.

“Look, Maggie, I know Wyonna probably won’t believe this, but just so you know”—she looked at Kara now, responding to the earnestness in her voice—“Lena wasn’t the real reason I left. I’m just homesick. Lena, her sister, and her father talked some sense into me. The Luthors are good people and should be judged on their own merits.”

“I know,” she claimed, but she sounded like Kara’s sincere words had affected her some. Maybe she’d be able to convince Wyonna of this much, at least.

“Hey, I’m uh, I’m sorry you had to come do this, Maggie,” Kara apologized, frowning. “At any rate, you get your parts, right?”

“Yeah,” she muttered, still looking awkward… upset.

“There’s more?” Kara’s brows rose above her glasses, her disbelief palpable.

“Forget it,” she grumbled. “I’ll get a job and save money myself.”

“Oh, come on Mags, just spit it out.” Kara pouted, wanting this to be done and over with.

“It’s so bad.”

“It can’t be that awful. Tell me,” She insisted, her gaze intense.

“Okay, but geez, this sounds bad.” She shook her head. “She said to tell you, no, to warn you that—and this is her plural, not mine”—she lifted one hand from Kara’s waist and made little quotation marks in the air— “We’ll be watching.” She watched warily for Kara’s reaction. It sounded like something from a mafia movie and Kara couldn’t help but laugh. Her world may be full of alienness and vampires, but the mafia wasn’t in it.

“Sorry you had to do this, Maggie,”

“I don’t mind that much.” She grinned in relief. Her eyes were appraising as they raked quickly over Kara’s dress. “So, should I tell her you said to butt the hell out?” Maggie asked hopefully

“No,” Kara sighed, her eyes crinkling at the edges. “Tell her I said thanks. I know she means well.” The song ended and Kara extricated herself from Maggie.

“Do you want to dance again?” Lena answered for her.

“That’s all right, Maggie. I’ll take it from here.” Maggie flinched, and stared wide-eyed at Lena, who stood just behind them.

“Hey, I didn’t see you there,” she glanced between them, the air thick. “I guess I’ll see you around, Kara.” Maggie stepped back, waving halfheartedly.

Kara smiled. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

“Sorry,” she said again before she turned for the door. Lena’s arms were around Kara as the next song started. It was a little up-tempo for slow dancing, but that didn’t seem to concern Lena. She leaned her had against Kara’s chest, content.

“Feeling better?” Kara asked, breathing in the scent of Lena as her cheek rested against the dark crown of Lena’s head.

“Not really,” she sounded exasperated.

“Don’t be mad at Wyonna. She just worries about me for Eliza’s sake. It’s nothing personal.”

“I’m not mad at Wyonna,” she corrected, sounding just as exasperated as before. “But her niece is irritating me.” Kara pulled back to meet Lena’s eyes.

“Why?”

“First of all, she made me break my promise.”

Kara stared at her in confusion.

Lena half smiled. “I promised I wouldn’t let go of you tonight.”

“I forgive you since you’re such a gentlewoman.”

“Ah, thank you darling. But there’s something else.” Lena frowned, and Kara waited as patiently as she could. “She called you pretty,” she finally continued, her frown deepening. “That’s practically an insult, the way you look right now. You’re much more than beautiful.”

Kara laughed despite the heat that started in her chest and rapidly expanded as it reached her neck, her face, and the tips of her ears. “I think you might be a little biased, Miss Luthor.”

“I don’t think that’s it. Besides, I have excellent eyesight.” They were twirling again, Lena holding Kara close to her.

“So are you going to explain the reason for all of this?” Kara wondered. Lena looked up at her, confused, and Kara stared meaningfully at the crepe paper.

She considered for a moment, and then changed direction, spinning Kara through the crowd to the back door of the gym. Kara caught a glimpse of Nia and Brainy dancing, staring at Kara with glee. Nia waved and she smiled back quickly. Wnn was there, too, looking blissfully happy in the arms of James Olsen; he didn’t look away from James’ eyes. Mike and Irma, Garth, glaring toward them, with Laurel; Kara could name every face that spiraled past her. And then they were outdoors, in the cool, dim light of a fading sunset.

As soon as they were alone, Lena moved them, in a blur of movement across the dark grounds, to a bench beneath the shadow of the madrone trees. She sat there, pulling Kara to sit beside her. The moon was already up, visible through the gauzy clouds, and Lena’s face glowed pale in the white light. Her mouth was a hard line, her eyes troubled as they flickered between colors.

“The point?” Kara softly prodded again.

Lena ignored her, staring up at the moon.

“Half-light, again,” she whispered. “Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always had to end.”

“Somethings don’t have to end,” she squeezed Lena’s hand, an edge of super strength behind her grip, trying to convey more than her words could.

Lena sighed.

“I brought you to prom,” she said slowly, finally answering Kara’s question, “because I don’t want you to miss anything. I don’t want my presence to take anything away from you, if I can help it. I want you to have a normal life. I want your life to continue as it would have if I’d died in eighteen-forty-seven like I should have.”

Kara shuddered at her words, and then stubbornly shook her head. “In what strange parallel dimension would I have ever gone to prom of my own free will?”

Lena smiled for a fraction of a second. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“That’s because I was with you. But Lena, you have to understand… my life ended the day my parents put me in that pod. I’ll never have a normal life. And while I’m under a yellow sun, I’m doomed to walk the Earth for all eternity. Why wouldn’t I want to do that with someone as equally doomed?”

Lena seemed to consider this, but she was still unrelenting. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you were never destined to have a normal life, to fall in love with a human and grow old. But you seem so ready for this to be the end,” she whispered, “for this to be the twilight of your life, though your life has barely started. You’re ready to give up everything?”

“I don’t have much more to give up, Lena. It’s not the end, it’s the beginning.”

“I’m not worth it,” it was the saddest Kara had ever heard Lena speak.

“Do you remember when you told me that I didn’t see myself very clearly?” Kara asked, raising her eyebrows as a soft smile took over her face. “You obviously have the same blindness.”

“I know what I am.”

“You and I aren’t that different. The only true difference is our diets.”

“Only you could believe that,” but her words were mocking as Lena moved, inclining her head slowly until her cold lips brushed against the skin just under the corner of Kara’s jaw. “Aren’t that different, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kara whispered, so that her voice wouldn’t have a chance to break. Every sense was focused on the sole point of her skin where Lena’s cool lips and cold breath lingered.

Lena laughed, no doubt hearing Kara’s erratic heartbeat as she pulled away. “I don’t like that you dream about being with a monster.”

Kara’s heart slowed, frowning at Lena’s word choice.

“You have a kindhearted, beautiful soul, Lena. Mostly I dream about being with you forever.”

Lena’s expression changed, softened and saddened by the longing in Kara’s voice.

“Kara.” Her fingers lightly traced the shape of her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kara smiled under her fingertips. “Promise?”

“Promise.” And Kara touched her face, a rush of intensity between them.

“I love you more than everything else in the world combined.”

“I love you, darling,” Lena answered, smiling as she leaned down to press her cold lips once more to Kara’s throat.