"Supercorp - please talk to me."

this is sort of a prequel to the superbabies! but not the Entire prequel, just a small snapshot that filled a prompt p well

disclaimed

...

"Please talk to me, Lee," Kara pleads. "I can't—I'm not sure how to help you if I don't know what's wrong."

Lena's on the floor, crying. It's not the most jarring thing Kara's come home to since they started cohabitating, but it's certainly hard to bear witness to. And she—she doesn't think this is a this is because I'm a Luthor cry or an I'm remembering intense emotional abuse at the hands of my mother cry; those are both awful and terrible, but, to some degree, they're predictable and Kara knows how to care for her wife when she's crying because of that.

But she's pretty sure it's not either of those this time. Which is only making her more nervous, more anxious, gets her worrying about what awful thing might have happened over the course of the day.

But then Lena's grinning up at her, beaming through her tears, and she reaches up to grasp Kara's hand and tug her onto the floor with her. "Nothing's wrong," she assures, her voice thick with emotion. "I—I swear to you, nothing is wrong."

That's still—her intensity isn't helping Kara calm down all that much really, only succeeding in switching Kara's thoughts from Awful Events to Potential Alien Impersonation.

Lena must notice, catch onto the switch, because then she's wiping at her face with her free hand, laughing a little as she does so. "I promise I'm fine," she says, her grin quieting to something softer, reserved solely for Kara. "I'm crying because I'm so happy."

She rests their joined hands on her abdomen.

It takes a solid few seconds before it lands, before Kara realizes what it is Lena's telling her, and then she's up, off the ground, bringing Lena with her until they're floating a few inches off the ground in the middle of their kitchen. "Are you serious?" she questions, sounding out of breath even to her own ears. And—well, she feels a little out a breath right now, feels like she's just been kicked in the chest but in the best way possible. "Are you really—?"

Lena nods, eyes bright. "Alex called just after you left. I had a whole plan to tell you in person and then, well—," she breaks off with a laugh, gesturing to her still wet cheeks.

"No, Lena, this is—I—," Kara struggles to find the right words for the warmth in her chest, for how she feels like her face is about to split in two, how she hears her mother's voice in the back of her mind, whispering a prayer, an old one to offer up in the wake of a miracle. "It's perfect," she settles on finally. "Our kiddo is going to be perfect."

"Kiddo," Lena repeats, wrinkling her nose. "Please tell me that's not going to stick."

Instead of answering, Kara just laughs, presses close to kiss Lena's cheeks, nose, forehead, lips. "I love you," she whispers finally, breathlessly.

"I love you too," Lena whispers back.

...

(it sticks)