A/N: So my writing mojo took some annual leave or something for a few weeks but then I got this idea and the story bug well and truly bit. I'm writing it far more for myself than for anyone else, but thought I would chuck it up here anyway even though it's super rough. Yes it's going to get hardcore angsty but I'm addicted to happy endings so don't worry if tragedy isn't your thing. I'm experimenting with present tense. It felt like it fit better but boy, it doesn't come naturally.

CW: Pretty graphic descriptions of violence lie ahead.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no profit etc.

It's the coldest night of the year when the luminescent green bullet scythes through frigid air and connects squarely with its target. Kara Zor-el hears the harsh squeal of skidding tyres and the sickening crunch of a fleshy body colliding with speeding metal as she watches her life explode in a hail of shattered glass.

Three years pass before National City sees Supergirl again.

When Lena Luthor races down to her car on the evening of December 19th, 2016 she doesn't intend to die. All she wants is to help. Someway, somehow.

She does help.

But she also dies.

The CEO is tinkering with the code for L-Corp's new long-range isotope detector when the screen flashes red with an alert and Lena's heart seizes in her chest. It may be a prototype but of course she's already programmed in a kryptonite warning. What kind of genius and, more importantly, what kind of friend would she be if she didn't?

If she follows logic she'd ring the DEO and then stay safely where she is but, when it comes to Kara, logic has a tendency to leap out the window. So, rather than take reasonable action, Lena instead throws herself into her elevator as she hits dial on Alex's number.

The call is over by the time Lena slides behind the wheel of her Lotus Exige and guns the engine. The fact that the DEO's top team is a minute away from wheels up isn't enough to quell her burning anxiety. She's acutely aware of the fact that Kara is in the same sector as the kryptonite and she can't just sit around twiddling her thumbs, hoping that someone else will save the day. If there's anything she might be able to do, she has to be there.

And Lena knows exactly where there is because, after all, she is a Luthor. Of course she's hacked into the DEO's Supergirl-tracking system and of course she's patched the feed into her GPS in case she ever needs it. Unlike the rest of her family, however, her motivations are not nefarious. She just likes being able to check that Kara is still alive and kicking when the hero gets herself into deathly dangerous situations. She finds it comforting.

On her way to 17th street on the south side of downtown, Lena runs no less than 6 red lights. Mercifully, the streets are eerily empty. Nearly the entirety of National City is cloistered inside, hiding from the 40 degree weather that Lena, as a former Metropolis resident, finds perfectly balmy.

When Lena aggressively swings her car onto 17th (completely uncaring as she crosses the centreline) she's still a mile from Kara's latest ping. Once she straightens up, the supercharged V6 behind her growls viciously as she hammers the accelerator to the floor and hits twice the speed limit in 3.5 seconds.

Three quarters of a minute later, Lena crests a rise and catches a shadow of a figure in her headlights. The deadly glow emanating from the weapon ensconced in its hands is terrifyingly visible, even from a distance. When Lena then sights Kara to her right, staring down the barrel of the poisonous assault rifle, it takes the Luthor mere milliseconds to make a decision. With reckless disregard for her own well-being, she aligns her vehicle with the position of the man in the middle of the road. Once she's sure of her trajectory, her fury-and-fear powered foot stomps on the gas pedal with all the strength she can muster.

It is six seconds from impact when the Cadmus lieutenant realises he is on a collision course. In his surprise, he has just enough time to turn, aim and fire.

The sound of the shot rends the still air as the kryptonite laced bullet whistles through the atmosphere. Lena doesn't have a chance to register the noise before her windshield fragments in her face and the lethal projectile lodges itself in her throat. Her murderer has shot her six inches lower than planned, but it will still do the job. It just won't be instantaneous.

When the bullet pierces Lena's skin, her hands involuntarily yank on the wheel as blood pours down her neck. The Lotus twists into a tailspin and as her lungs begin to fill with her very life force, Lena has a long enough moment of clarity to appreciate the misfortune of today being the day she drove her one car that lacks bulletproof glass.

Her melancholy quickly lifts when her body jerks violently to the side as the rear of her vehicle slams into her soon-to-be killer. Lena swears she can feel his bones fracture from the force. As her wheels thud roughly over his form, it's a small comfort that at least he dies before she does.

Three seconds later, the Lotus crashes front on into a lamp post at more than fifty miles an hour and the airbag erupts, smashing Lena in the chest. The bag has barely begun to deflate before the driver-side door is wrenched off its hinges and a desperate Supergirl slices the seat belt loose with precision laser bursts.

Lena is only dimly aware of her surroundings as Kara drags her out of the car and into the middle of the street. Unbeknownst to the two women, the large caliber round has grazed Lena's anterior jugular vein, perforated her oesophagus and trachea before striking a vertebra. It has then splintered, ricocheting a bullet fragment forward to rupture her carotid artery. In less than a minute, Lena has lost nearly a third of her blood volume.

"Stay with me, Lena," Kara begs as she frantically wipes damp hair off the Luthor's cold, clammy forehead, clinging to the sound of Lena's thready but present pulse. She might not know the specifics, but it's obvious to anyone that this is bad. "Please!"

The hero clutches her best friend tenderly as she tenses for take-off but, before she can become airborne, Lena's pale fingers are scrabbling at her chest and there's a wet husk as the CEO tries to talk.

Kara flicks her gaze down and sees the agonising sight of a blood soaked Lena twitching her head no. She wants to ignore it. She wants to fly the woman to the nearest hospital anyway because Rao-dammit maybe a doctor can still do something. She wants to try.

But, in the end, she listens.

They both know they won't make it in time. Not with Kara's speed degraded by the kryptonite shards embedded in Lena's neck. And anyway, Lena hates flying. Kara knows that Lena hates flying. It's not hard to guess that Lena doesn't want to die in the air.

Resigned to fate, the Kryptonian cradles Lena delicately in her arms as she lowers the two of them to the ground. The CEO's eyes flicker as she coughs harshly, spraying her blood across the House of El crest and Kara barely chokes back a sob.

"Lena..."

The name is whispered with grief-filled reverence as Kara traces the side of Lena's face with her thumb. The Luthor's eyelids flutter as though she's trying with all her might to pull them open, but she's fighting a losing battle.

Lena wishes she could say that dying in Kara's arms is a peaceful experience, but it isn't. It's miserable, and searingly painful. The sensation of her air intake being restricted by the fluid in her lungs plus the oxygen starvation from massive haemorrhaging is horrific. Then there's the burning throb in her neck and the airbag-induced ache in her rib cage, separate and aside from her emotional pain.

She's not ready to die. There's so much more she wants to do with her life but she knows she's not going have a chance anymore. That knowledge hurts as much as the gunshot wound.

"Lena," Kara repeats shakily, no longer able to stop tears from tracking down her dirty cheeks. There so many things she wants to say that she can't find where to start. The rest of the world disappears around her as her fingers linger over the CEO's features until she manages to pick out the common thread from her thoughts.

"I need you to... know that I... love you," the Kryptonian croaks between ragged breaths, but Lena doesn't hear her. She's already unconscious.

A beat passes as Kara gently strokes the CEO's temple and then Lena's head lolls to the side. Kara knows she's gone.

The hero hardly notices the sound that rips from deep within her chest or the light that blazes from her eyes as she stares furiously at the sky, hands curled impotently in the ruined fabric of Lena's shirt. Both Kara Zor-el and Kara Danvers are well accustomed to loss, but this... This might just be one loss too many.