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When Lena was younger, she always thought she would end up alone in the world. That everyone would leave her and she would remain with nothing but her solitude. But everything had proven her wrong, and here she was—with her wife and her little ray of sunshine. She could hardly believe her baby girl was almost six years old!
“Mommy?” Lynn called out to Lena.
The three of them were on their way to Midvale to celebrate Lynn’s birthday. Kara and Lena wanted a small party, far from the cameras and gossip of National City. They wanted Lynn to enjoy her birthday and her party without having to worry about paparazzi trying to crash a six-year-old’s celebration.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Lena replied, turning to look at her daughter in the back seat.
After Lynn was born, Kara learned she couldn’t just fly her family everywhere, so she decided to start driving again. So now, Lynn was in the back seat while Lena kept her company in the passenger seat.
“Why is the sky blue?”
“Because of the gases in the atmosphere, sweetheart.”
Lynn looked out the window. Her blue eyes matched the sky, and Lena couldn’t help but sigh as she remembered the first time her daughter opened her eyes—Kara’s eyes. The little girl then looked back at her mother, brushing a strand of her now-dark hair away from her face.
“My eyes are blue,” the girl said, looking out the window again. “Mommy’s are blue too.”
“We have my eyes, my love,” Kara replied, glancing briefly at the rearview mirror before looking at Lena, who was smiling.
Kara knew Lena had always loved the fact that Lynn had her eyes, but secretly, Kara still wished Lynn had Lena’s eyes.
“They’re like the sky, Mommy,” the little girl declared.
“They are like the sky, sweetheart,” Lena replied with a smile.
Eliza Danvers had always been a kind and loving person to everyone she cared about, so when Lena officially became part of the family, she felt like she finally had the support—and maybe even the love—of a mother figure in her life. And she wasn’t wrong. The older woman had always been generous with hugs and affectionate comments, but when Lynn was born, everything was taken to a whole new level.
Lynn had a deep love for her grandmother, and Lena knew Eliza loved her granddaughter even more. So she wasn’t surprised when, as soon as they got out of the car, Lynn was already running into the older woman’s open arms.
“Grandma!” Lynn shouted as she ran toward her.
“Hello, my angel,” Eliza replied, picking the little girl up and covering her face in kisses. “You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. Soon I won’t be able to carry you anymore.”
“I missed you so much, Grandma,” Lynn said, wrapping her little arms around Eliza’s neck.
“You missed Grandma more than you missed me?” asked a voice coming from behind Eliza.
“Aunt Alex!” And with that, Lynn immediately jumped into Alex’s arms, hugging her with all the strength a six-year-old girl could muster. “I missed you a lot too, Auntie.”
“I missed you too, Lynn.”
After years without taking a break or even a weekend off, Alex had finally taken Kara’s advice and gone on vacation. She’d already been in Midvale for two weeks.
“Apparently, my daughter doesn’t need me anymore,” Lena said as she walked over to Eliza and Alex, while Kara followed behind carrying all the family’s luggage.
“I’m not even sorry about that, Luthor,” Alex replied, hugging Lynn tightly.
Lena rolled her eyes and then went on to hug her mother-in-law.
“I’m so happy you all decided to spend the weekend with us,” Eliza exclaimed, pulling Lena into a warm hug.
“You know, I’m here too,” Kara complained after dropping the bags on the porch. “We’ve been here for almost five minutes, and I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten a hug yet.”
If there was one thing Lena adored about the Danvers family, it was how close and united they were. So it hadn’t been hard to get used to the frequent Danvers family group hugs—or, as Kara liked to call them, the big bear hugs.
It was finally Lynn’s birthday.
The sun had barely peeked through the curtains when little footsteps echoed down the hall of Eliza’s cozy Midvale home. The scent of pancakes and fresh berries lingered in the air, mixed with the soft hum of a favorite Saturday morning playlist playing low in the background. The kitchen table had been transformed—balloons floated lazily near the ceiling, and a small banner that read Happy 6th Birthday, Lynn! was hanging slightly crooked above the window.
Lena was the first to spot her.
“There’s our birthday girl,” she whispered, already kneeling to open her arms.
Lynn beamed, her cheeks pink from sleep and excitement as she ran straight into her mother’s hug. Kara followed a second later, swooping in to pepper her daughter’s other cheek with kisses until Lynn’s tiny laugh filled the whole room like sunlight.
“Happy birthday, my little star,” Kara said, her voice soft but bright.
“Four years old today,” Lena added, pressing another kiss to her daughter's temple, “when did that happen?”
“I think I grew overnight!” Lynn declared, arms stretching dramatically above her head, still nestled between both her moms.
Eliza chuckled from the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You do look taller today.”
In the middle of the moment—Kara kneeling beside her daughter, Lena’s arms still wrapped around her waist, both mothers with matching expressions of pure joy and disbelief—Alex raised her phone from across the room and, without saying a word, snapped a picture.
The shutter was soft, but Kara caught it anyway and shot her sister a look, though the smile never left her lips.
“You better send me that,” she said.
“It’s already in your inbox,” Alex replied smugly, leaning back against the counter, coffee in hand.
The photo had caught everything. The golden morning light filtering through the window. The way Lena’s hand cradled the back of Lynn’s head. Kara’s hair slightly tousled from rushing to make it downstairs in time. And right in the center—Lynn, glowing with laughter, cheeks flushed, loved from both sides.
They all sat down at the table soon after, Lynn still bouncing slightly in her seat. She made a wish before blowing out the candle on her blueberry pancake stack, her eyes squeezed tight, her little hands clasped together like it was the most important wish in the world.
And maybe it was.
Because for Lynn, the room was already full of everything she could possibly want. Warmth, pancakes, laughter—and two pairs of arms ready to catch her, always.
After the last bite of pancake disappeared from her plate (and at least half of Lena’s strawberries mysteriously vanished too), Lynn climbed into Kara’s lap, resting her head against her mother’s chest with the kind of trust that melted even the iciest of hearts.
Kara wrapped her arms around her daughter and rested her chin on top of her head. She swayed them slightly, side to side, in that quiet motherly way that felt like a lullaby even without music.
Lena was watching them from across the table, her teacup cradled in both hands. The soft lines of her face were lit by morning light, and her eyes shone with something that Kara knew all too well now—contentment, love, the impossible swell of motherhood.
Alex scrolled through her phone, stopping on the photo she’d just taken. She turned it around and held it out toward Lena and Kara.
“I think this might be the best picture I’ve ever taken.”
Kara blinked, then smiled as Lena leaned in to look.
There they were—caught in a moment so simple, so small, and yet so enormous in what it meant. The three of them on the kitchen floor: Kara and Lena kneeling on either side of their daughter, cheeks pressed to her tiny face, Lynn’s laugh frozen in time. Her eyes were crinkled, her mouth open in that gap-toothed giggle they both adored.
Lena reached for Kara’s hand without even thinking, lacing their fingers together.
“We should frame it,” she said softly, eyes still on the screen.
“Print a few copies,” Kara agreed. “One for home, one for Eliza, and one for your desk.”
“And your cape drawer,” Lena added with a teasing smirk.
Kara chuckled. “That’s classified.”
Just then, Lynn perked up, her head turning as though a sudden idea had struck her like lightning.
“Can I take a picture now?” she asked eagerly, already hopping down and making a beeline for Alex’s phone. “Of you and Mommy?”
Lena and Kara exchanged amused glances, then nodded. Kara crouched beside Lena, her arm around her wife’s shoulders as they smiled up at their little photographer.
Lynn held the phone in both hands, tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as she tried to center the shot.
“Say cheeese!” she ordered with great authority.
“Cheeeeese,” they said in unison, breaking into soft laughter just after the click.
Behind Lynn, Eliza appeared in the doorway with two small wrapped boxes in her arms. She paused for a second, taking in the scene—her daughter, her daughter-in-law, and her granddaughter, tangled in the kind of happiness she had always hoped her children would find.
“I think it’s time for presents,” she announced, her voice bright.
Lynn gasped like it was Christmas morning. “Presents!”
She bolted toward Eliza with a speed only sugar and birthday excitement could fuel.
Kara helped Lena up and leaned in, kissing her cheek as the laughter and noise swirled around them again.
“This,” Kara whispered, her voice barely above the hum of music and giggles, “is everything.”
Lena looked at her, her gaze tender and full. “It really is.”
The backyard had been transformed into a miniature wonderland by the time the afternoon sun settled high over Midvale. Eliza’s garden was now dotted with pastel-colored streamers, a picnic-style table set with snacks and juice boxes, and a small bounce castle that shimmered slightly in the light.
Lynn was in her element—her crown of pink flowers slightly askew, her face painted like a glittery tiger, chasing bubbles with two of the neighbor’s kids who’d been invited for the afternoon fun. Her laughter floated across the yard like wind chimes, light and constant.
Kara stood near the edge of the garden, a juice box in one hand, sunglasses in the other. She wore a soft smile as she watched Lynn run in circles, her energy boundless.
“She’s never going to sleep tonight,” Lena murmured, stepping up beside her, two cupcakes balanced carefully in her hands.
Kara grinned and bumped her shoulder gently against her wife’s. “Isn’t that what birthdays are for?”
Lena gave her a knowing look, handing over a cupcake with blue frosting. “You say that now, but when she’s climbing on the furniture at ten p.m., I’ll remind you of this moment.”
Kara raised an eyebrow. “That’s fair.”
They stood like that for a few minutes, side by side, watching Lynn conquer the bounce castle like a warrior queen. The world felt soft in those moments, full of sunshine and simple joys.
Then Kara leaned in, her voice a little lower, her tone a little warmer. “Hey, Luthor.”
Lena turned her head slightly. “Hmm?”
Kara’s blue eyes sparkled as she looked at her. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
Lena tilted her head, amused. “Once. Around the time I was making the birthday pancakes.”
“Well, I still do,” Kara said, her hand brushing against Lena’s. “Actually... I love you so much I was thinking…”
Here it comes, Lena thought.
“…we should have another one.”
Lena blinked. “Another pancake?”
Kara laughed softly. “No. Another baby.”
Lena turned to face her more fully now, arching an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”
“As serious as it gets,” Kara replied with a smile that tried (and failed) to look innocent. “Just think about it. A sibling for Lynn. Someone for her to boss around. And we already know we make adorable kids.”
Lena narrowed her eyes, lips curving despite herself. “You bring this up at our daughter’s sixth birthday party?”
“I thought it was thematically appropriate,” Kara said, inching closer. “And besides… I miss this. I miss the little baby snuggles. The onesie phase. That tiny baby smell. I mean, don’t you?”
Lena hesitated, but Kara saw the shift—just the tiniest one—in her expression. The softening. The sparkle behind her eyes.
“Maybe I do,” Lena admitted after a beat. “A little.”
“A little?” Kara whispered, stepping close enough to kiss her temple. “That’s basically a yes.”
“That’s not what I said,” Lena replied, though she didn’t move away.
“But it’s not a no,” Kara murmured against her cheek.
Before Lena could respond with something witty, they were interrupted by a squeal and a familiar voice:
“Moms! Watch this!!”
Lynn stood triumphantly on top of the bounce castle, arms stretched out wide like a superhero about to leap into the air.
“Absolutely not,” Lena called, already moving.
Kara grinned and jogged after her, both of them laughing now as they tried to wrangle their little wild thing.
But even in the chaos, the thought lingered in the back of Lena’s mind: Kara, with another baby in her arms. Their home a little fuller. Their hearts a little more stretched in the best way.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
The house had quieted down, the kind of hush that only comes after a day filled with celebration, laughter, and too much sugar. Outside Lynn’s window, fireflies blinked in and out of view, and the muffled sound of ocean waves in the distance played like a lullaby.
Lena sat on the edge of Lynn’s bed, gently stroking her daughter’s dark hair while Kara tucked the blanket around her. Lynn lay between them, still wearing her birthday crown, now slightly squashed to one side.
“I don’t want today to end,” Lynn mumbled sleepily, her voice soft and sticky with exhaustion.
“It doesn’t have to,” Kara said with a warm smile, brushing a stray strand from Lynn’s cheek. “We can dream about it and visit again whenever we want.”
Lena leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lynn’s temple. “Would you like a story before you sleep, sweetheart?”
Lynn nodded with her eyes already closing.
Kara smiled and lowered her voice to a gentle whisper. “Once upon a time, there was a brave little tiger princess who had the biggest laugh in the whole kingdom. She loved cupcakes and crowns and could run faster than the wind…”
Lena chimed in softly, “…and she had two queens who loved her more than all the stars in the sky. Every year, they threw a royal birthday celebration, filled with bubbles, dancing, and magic—and every night, they kissed her cheeks before she drifted off to dreamland.”
Two soft kisses followed, one from each mother, and a faint smile curled on Lynn’s lips as she finally slipped into sleep.
The room was dim, filled with the hush of night and the rhythmic sound of their daughter’s breathing. Kara stood and extended a hand toward Lena, who took it without a word, giving Lynn one last glance before they tiptoed out of the room and closed the door behind them.
The house was nearly dark, save for the soft glow of a hallway lamp. Eliza’s door was shut, and Alex’s light had gone out hours ago. The scent of chamomile tea lingered faintly in the air.
In their room, Lena moved to her vanity in her robe, untying the sash and revealing a soft cotton nightgown underneath. She began her nightly ritual—quiet, methodical, soothing. Her fingers glided over her arms as she applied her favorite oil lotion, the scent of lavender filling the room.
Kara sat on the bed, leaning back on her elbows, watching her.
“You’re glowing,” she murmured.
Lena looked over her shoulder, a small smile curving her lips. “It’s the oil.”
Kara tilted her head. “It’s you.”
There was a pause, comfortable and quiet, as Lena continued her routine. Then, softly, Kara added, “I meant it earlier. About having another baby.”
Lena’s hands slowed for just a moment. She met Kara’s gaze in the mirror.
“I know you did,” she said. “And part of me… part of me wants that too.”
Kara sat up fully now, listening.
“But I also love what we have right now,” Lena continued, turning to face her. “Lynn’s growing up so fast. And this stage—we’re finally sleeping through the night, finally getting to breathe again. I don’t want to lose that so soon.”
Kara walked over and gently wrapped her arms around Lena’s waist from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder. “We wouldn’t be losing it, not really. Just… shifting into something new.”
“I know,” Lena whispered, leaning back into her. “But my last pregnancy wasn’t exactly magical. It was months of nausea, migraines, hormones all over the place—and fear, Kara. I was terrified something would go wrong.”
Kara’s grip tightened, protective and tender. “You were incredible, even when you were miserable. And I’ll be here again, every step. You won’t go through it alone.”
Lena turned in her arms now, facing her fully. “I know that too. But… can we just wait a little longer? Not ‘no.’ Just… not yet.”
Kara smiled gently and kissed her forehead. “Of course. There’s no rush. We’ve got time.”
They stood like that for a while, wrapped in the silence of understanding, the comfort of shared love. Then Lena reached for Kara’s hand and tugged her toward the bed.
“Come on,” she said with a tired smile. “I think the queens of this castle deserve a little rest.”
Kara laughed softly and followed, settling beside her beneath the covers. Outside, the stars glittered quietly above Midvale, and inside, the warmth of their family glowed steady and safe.
For tonight, that was enough. More than enough.
Kara slipped under the covers beside Lena, both of them sinking into the familiar softness of their bed. The warmth between them was immediate, comforting—but there was something else lingering beneath the surface. The quiet vulnerability of their conversation had opened something gentle and tender, and Kara could feel it humming in the way Lena’s fingers brushed along her arm, slower than before.
“Thank you,” Lena whispered after a while, her head on Kara’s shoulder. “For being patient with me.”
Kara turned to face her, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Lena’s ear. “Always.”
Lena’s green eyes shimmered softly in the dim light, and Kara leaned in, brushing their lips together in a kiss that started slow—familiar, reassuring—but deepened as Lena cupped Kara’s face and pulled her closer.
There was no urgency, only devotion. Their hands sought the lines they already knew by heart. Soft fabric slipped, bare skin met skin, and in the hush of the sleeping house, they reconnected like gravity itself was pulling them together.
Lena whispered Kara’s name like a prayer between kisses. Kara responded with quiet murmurs of I love you and you’re everything. They moved like a dance only they knew how to perform—slow, intentional, reverent.
Later, wrapped in each other’s arms, Lena rested her head against Kara’s chest, listening to the calm, steady heartbeat she knew so well.
“I’m scared,” she said, softly now, as if admitting it to the dark would make it more real.
Kara kissed her forehead, her hand gently tracing the length of Lena’s spine. “Then be scared. I’ll still be here.”
Lena’s breath hitched for a moment. Then she nodded and whispered, “I love you.”
Kara smiled. “More than yesterday?”
“Always.”
FLASHBACK
Lena sat curled on the bathroom floor, her back pressed against the cool tile wall. Her skin was pale, her eyes glassy. A cold sweat clung to her collarbone as she leaned her head back, exhaling shakily.
It was the third time that morning.
The pregnancy was barely entering its second trimester, but Lena already felt like a stranger in her own body—wracked with nausea, oversensitive to light and sound, and constantly dizzy. Her usually steady hands trembled as she reached for the water Kara had left on the sink earlier.
Kara.
Lena had insisted she go to work that day. “I’m not fragile,” she had said. “I just need rest.”
But alone in that moment, she had never felt more fragile.
Just as her head tipped forward and her eyes began to close, the sound of the front door opening echoed faintly. A second later, Kara was kneeling in front of her, slightly out of breath, having come home early after her super hearing caught something in Lena’s voice during a quick check-in call.
“Oh, Lena…” Kara murmured, gathering her wife into her arms. “You should’ve told me.”
Lena leaned against her, exhausted. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“I’m supposed to worry about you,” Kara whispered, pressing a kiss to Lena’s temple. “You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
Tears burned behind Lena’s eyes, and for the first time that day, she let herself cry.
PRESENT DAY – 5:30 AM
Lena blinked her eyes open slowly. The house was silent. Kara’s arm was still around her, her breathing deep and steady. But sleep had long left Lena, replaced by the lingering weight of memory.
Carefully, she slid out of bed without waking Kara. She slipped on a soft robe and padded barefoot down the stairs, her fingers brushing along the walls of the familiar house.
In the kitchen, she filled the kettle and placed it on the stove, reaching for her favorite mug—the one with a tiny print of constellations wrapping around the porcelain. The kitchen was still dim, touched only by the soft blue light of early dawn spilling through the windows.
As the water heated, Lena leaned against the counter, arms wrapped around herself.
The house was quiet.
But her mind was anything but.
Lena didn’t hear the soft creak of the wooden stairs behind her, nor the subtle swish of the front hallway door being gently pulled closed. Her eyes were fixed on nothing and everything—the kitchen window’s view of the sleepy backyard, the rising mist over the grass, the hush of a world just beginning to stir.
The kettle clicked off with a sharp pop, but she made no move to pour.
“Couldn’t sleep either?”
The voice was soft, just above a whisper. Lena turned her head slowly to see Alex, already dressed in black running tights and a fitted windbreaker, her dark hair tied up, earbuds dangling from one hand. Her gaze was sharp, as always, but kind. Discerning.
Lena tried to smile. “Something like that.”
Alex stepped further into the kitchen, her sneakers quiet on the floor. “You okay?”
Lena shrugged, then finally turned to pour the hot water over the tea bag in her mug. She watched the steam rise, her fingers wrapped around the ceramic for warmth more than comfort.
“I’m just thinking,” she admitted. “About… things. Life. This phase we’re in. It’s beautiful, and I know it is. But part of me wonders how long it lasts.”
Alex moved beside her, leaning against the counter with arms crossed. “You mean with Kara? Or Lynn?”
“Both,” Lena said softly. “Everything. Sometimes it feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or maybe I’m just afraid of… changing too much too fast.”
Alex nodded, quiet for a moment.
“Is this about the baby thing?” she asked, gently. “I overheard a little at dinner. You don’t have to talk about it, but… if you want to.”
Lena’s lips twitched upward. “Eavesdropping, Danvers?”
“Superhearing runs in the family,” Alex said with a smirk, then added more seriously, “You went through a lot with your first pregnancy. No one would blame you for being hesitant.”
“I think I want it,” Lena confessed, her voice barely above the hum of the fridge. “Someday. But I’m terrified of getting lost in it again. I want to be fully present for Kara, for Lynn. I don’t want to fade out of myself.”
Alex tilted her head, thoughtful. “Then don’t rush. You and Kara? You already built something amazing. That little girl upstairs is all the proof you need that love doesn’t follow a schedule.”
Lena looked over at her, genuinely grateful. “You’re a good sister.”
“I try,” Alex said, smiling. “Also, I’m the cool aunt. That’s, like, top-tier status.”
Lena chuckled, finally taking a sip of her tea.
“You heading out for a run?” she asked.
“Yeah. Want me to bring back coffee?”
“Make it the strongest you can find,” Lena said, lifting her mug slightly. “This might not be enough.”
Alex gave her a knowing nod, then pulled on her hoodie. “I’ll be back before the house really wakes up.”
As she stepped toward the door, she paused. “You’re doing a good job, you know. Being a mom. Being you.”
Lena looked down at her tea, then back up with a soft smile. “Thanks, Alex.”
And then the front door opened and closed quietly, leaving Lena once more with her thoughts—only now, they didn’t feel quite so heavy.
Lena was halfway through her second sip of tea when she heard the creak of the stairs again. This time, it was a familiar rhythm—soft, padded footsteps followed by a gentle yawn.
Kara appeared in the doorway, hair a little mussed from sleep, wearing one of Lena’s old MIT sweatshirts and loose pajama pants. Her eyes were still heavy-lidded, her presence warm and grounding like sunlight slipping into the room.
“You’re up early,” Kara murmured, voice still husky with sleep. “I checked Lynn’s room. She’s not there. I thought she was with you.”
Lena blinked. “She’s not.”
Kara's brows lifted, and now she was more awake. “Wait—she’s not down here?”
Lena set her mug down, straightening slightly. “I’ve been here a while. I haven’t seen her.”
Kara rubbed her eyes and sighed through her nose. “She’s probably just… hiding somewhere. You know how she likes to ‘spy’ on us in the mornings.”
“Maybe she went to Eliza’s room?” Lena offered gently, but her fingers were already brushing the kitchen counter as if checking for tiny footprints.
Kara tilted her head, listening for any signs upstairs. Nothing.
“She’s never been out of bed this early without one of us,” she said, a small furrow forming between her brows.
Lena moved around the island, already slipping into that calm-but-efficient mother mode. “Let’s check the guest rooms. She might’ve crawled in with Alex during the night.”
Kara nodded, already turning toward the stairs—but paused. She turned back, stepped close to Lena, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
“We’ll find her.”
Lena gave a small smile. “Of course we will. She’s probably burrowed under someone’s blanket.”
Kara kissed her again—on the lips this time, gentle, reassuring—and then they both turned toward the hallway, their morning now beginning with the quiet little mission of finding their daughter.