Notes: This story was written for DefinitelyHuman as part of the Supercat Christmas in July 2018 Fic Exchange over on AO3
The original prompts were:
Prompt 1). Supercat and kids. Trying, having, dealing with changes after having, wanting, whatever you want to do.
Prompt 2). Kara struggling with Kryptonian traditions after deciding to stay on Earth.
I saw them, and just thought, "Both. Both is Good"
Cat moved through the apartment slowly and cautiously, despite every instinct in her. She'd learned, in the time they'd been together, that however much she might want to, rushing to Kara's side was not always the safest course of action. On the other hand, she couldn't figure out for the life of her why her wife wasn't in bed at five in the morning. Especially after the news they'd received yesterday from a very, very flustered Alex.
That news was why Cat hadn't initially panicked when she'd reached over and found Kara's side of the bed empty. She'd simply gotten up to check the bedroom, expecting to find her hunched over the toilet in another bout of morning sickness. When she'd found the bathroom empty, it was like a fist clenching around her heart. Something felt off. Wrong.
Cat's first thought was to check Kara's studio. Sometimes, Kara would retreat there when things got to be to much for her. She's lose herself in oils or pastels for hours, turning her inner turmoil into beauty on canvas or paper. But the studio was as empty as the bathroom, and Cat got even more scared, as she headed for the only other place she could think to look.
When they'd moved in together after their wedding, Kara had only asked for two things. The studio has been easy enough to accommodate. The second request had driven Cat's poor real estate agent nearly crazy, until Cat finally agreed to look at places that could be remodeled to accommodate the need. A single room with both an eastern and a western view, and a skylight overhead.
Once the remodel had been finished, Kara had set to work, filling the space with carvings and woodcuts and sculptures and carefully framed sheets of writing in a language only a small handful of people on Earth understood. For almost six months, Kara had worked on the space, carefully, meticulously turning it into the only shine of Rao on Earth.
The door to the shrine was open just a crack. Just enough for the soft, fluttering light of candles to creep through, and as Cat got close enough to reach for the door, the even softer sounds of sobs.
Cat pushed the door open in a near panic, only to find Kara kneeling on the floor, facing east, her face buried between her knees and her arms wrapped around her legs. She was trying to be quiet, she always tried to be quiet when she cried, but this time, she was having less success than usual. Her shoulders were shaking, and it was like the sobs were being torn from her body.
Cat was across the room as fast as her body could carry her, and if, at fifty-five, getting down on a bare wooden floor was harder than it once would have been, Cat didn't care. Not when Kara was in such obvious distress.
She slipped her arms around Kara, and Kara responded, turning around and hugging Cat, clinging to Cat as if her life depended on it.
"What's wrong, love?" Cat asked as she reached up, petting Kara's hair.
"I'm a horrible mother," Kara said.
"What?" Cat asked. "No… Kara, you've a wonderful mother. Carter loves you, and so will the baby."
Kara shook her head.
"Kara, love, what happened?" Cat asked.
"I can't remember it," Kara choked out between sobs.
"Can't remember what?"
"I can't remember the prayer," Kara said.
Cat pulled back so she could see Kara's face. "How many times do I have to tell you to start a story at the beginning?" she asked, using her best 'Cat Grant is annoyed' voice.
Kara pulled back a little further, but her reflexive reaction to the voice seemed to snap her out of it, at least a little. She let go of Cat and reached up to wipe her eyes.
"There's a prayer we say," Kara said. "The prayer for new souls. It's how we introduce our children to Rao, and how we ask him to guide and protect them."
"And you can't remember the words?" Cat said.
Kara shook her head. "I memorized it so long ago, when I was training for the trials of adulthood." She dropped her head onto Cat's shoulder. "How can I be a mother if I can't protect her?" Kara asked.
Cat hugged Kara closely, forcing herself not to just spit out the obvious solution, because however much it might seem like Kara was just upset about forgetting a prayer, Cat knew it was more than that. She'd spent one to many nights listening to Kara talk about how guilty she felt for having failed to be there for Kal.
"It's going to be okay," Cat whispered as she turned to kiss Kara on the temple. "You said Kryptonian pregnancies are long, right?"
"Eleven months," Kara said.
"And Alex said you're about a month along," Cat said.
Kara just nodded.
"So, here's what we're going to do," Cat said. "First, we're going to bring your mother's hologram here. Or we'll get Alex to make us a copy for here. Whatever it takes, so that you always have access to it. That way, if you forget a prayer, or need help with something you wouldn't have learned until you were older, it will be right there for you."
Kara lifted her head. "But-"
"I'm not done," Cat said. "You see, we're also going to need her here, because I only have ten months to become fluent in Kryptonian." She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind Kara's ear. "Our daughter is going to be a child of two worlds. She's going to need the languages and culture of both. She's going to need to remember the world that her mother came from, so her mother doesn't have to carry that weight alone anymore. And if I'm going to be her mother too, I'm going to need to know that culture, just as much as she does."
Kara looked into her eyes, and Cat could see the shock there. "You'd do that?"
"Of course," Cat said. "For you, and for our daughter. In fact, I'll even let you pack us into that death trap J'onn calls a space ship and take us to Argo, as often as you like."
"Really?" Kara asked.
"Of course," Cat said. "The poor girl should have at least one grandparent who acts like a decent, civilized person, and god knows it won't be my mother."
"Thank you," Kara said.
"Love, you don't have to thank me," Cat said. "You're my wife, and she's going to be my daughter."
"I know, but you didn't ask for this," Kara said.
"It's a shock, I admit," Cat said. "I mean, I know I have magnificent skin, but even I didn't think it was so good a stray skin cell could knock up my hot alien trophy wife."
Kara let out a little giggle and smiled for the first time since Alex had given them the news that afternoon.
"Kara, I'm just as scared as you are," she said. "I didn't expect to be a mother again, especially not at my age, but I want this. I want to see our daughter come into this world, and I want to raise her with you. I want to give her everything, and that means making sure that she understands her heritage. Both sides of it. So, when she arrives, we'll do everything we can to make sure that happens. We'll teach her Kryptonian first, then English, then French, then we can go on from there."
As she watched, tears welled up in Kara's eyes again. This time though, Cat could tell they were happy tears, and before she knew it, Cat found herself being kissed. Normally, being kissed by someone who'd just spent who knew how long sobbing and crying wouldn't have been on her list of things she enjoyed, but this was Kara, so the usual rules didn't apply. It wasn't the best kiss ever. It was wet and sloppy, and tasted of salt, but Cat was still a little disappointed when it ended.
Kara pulled back, and Cat could tell instantly that there was something she wanted to ask but was afraid to.
"What is it?" Cat prompted.
"I just… Do you think we could name her Astra?" Kara asked.
Cat rolled her eyes. "Well, we certainly aren't naming her for anyone on my side of that family," she said, giving a theatrical shudder, before giving Kara a soft look. "I'd be honored for our daughter to be named after someone you loved so much."
"I love you," Kara said with an absolutely beaming smile.
Cat smiled back at her, and started to answer, "I…" She stopped and shook her head. "No. Teach me how to say it in Kryptonian," Cat said. "I want you to hear it in the language you know best."