For Aunt Bea
The Rooftop
Winn Schott, the I.T. of CatCo and the man-in-the-chair for Supergirl, was terrified.
Kara tumbled, head over heels, toward the ground at a breakneck speed. Her cape tangled over her head and her shoulders as she broke apart clouds and tore apart the atmosphere.
The D.E.O. would be too late with their helicopters.
He was helpless.
Winn stood on top of their apartment roof watching her fall. His breathing started to hitch. His head swam. His vision blacked in and out.
He wasn't super; he couldn't save her, but he would watch her die.
Right then. Right there.
Because there had to be a limit to power, right? There always was a limit. A breaking point. An inevitable weakness.
He had found his. And now she was falling toward her death.
"I have…I have to…" Winn stuttered.
He had to do something.
Swiveling his head to calculate the jump to the next building, digging stubby fingernails into his hair, pacing the roof as the minutes until Kara hit the ground ticked by.
Winn approached the edge of the roof. Looking down, he saw an apartment building, not too far below. He could make that jump if he had a parachute. But he didn't have a parachute.
"New plan," he muttered to himself, backing away from the edge.
It was supposed to be fun, seeing Kara to tricks in the air while he filmed. They were planning on watching the tape at Kara's apartment later that night. A day fully spent on their friendship. But she went too high.
He saw the exact moment she lost consciousness. His hands shakily dug his phone out of his pocket and called Alex-well-he tried to. He fumbled over his words for seven seconds before managing to sputter something intelligent out. The D.E.O. promised a helicopter was on the way.
On the way wasn't fast enough.
Winn sprinted to the other side of the roof, scanning for any safe jump. One large crane too far away to be of any use. Two buildings a little too small to land on.
Then his eyes connected with the balconies.
Every other floor held a lookout balcony, complete with decorative fencing and the occasional dying plant. If he timed it right, he could jump from balcony to balcony, get to the ground, and maybe hijack a car to catch Kara with before she hit the ground. Anything might catch her better than cement.
Now to just gather the courage to jump.
Breathing choppily, Winn approached the very edge of the roof, letting his toes hover just over the city below. He hated heights. He hated heights.
He loved Kara.
Shakily, he sat down on the roof, watching his legs dangle off the building. Then, aiming for the balcony, he pushed off of the ledge.
Suspended.
Then he hit the balcony hard, slamming against the railing that barely held against his momentum. Barely taking notice of the screaming balcony owner, Winn quickly took to the stairs before jumping to the next balcony.
He kept time on Kara's fall.
Still no helicopter.
He was almost there.
Jumping from stairs to balcony, his jeans shredding against the railing, Winn kept his eyes trained on the sky. He guessed about a minute until she hit the ground. It would all be over.
"You can do this," Winn huffed out. "You can-you can do this."
Civilians were starting to gather at the spectacle. News stations would be there too, if Kara died. Hysterically, Winn thought more than everything would be over; Kara was still wearing her glasses.
Winn vaulted over the last balcony and onto the stairs.
He saw Kara's head snap up.
She was awake.
She pulled up.
The civilians cheered.
All before Winn hit the stairs.
His leg punched through the old, rusted metal like it was paper. His body hit the stairs with a crack. Stars exploded before his eyes. Winn screamed as if it was ripped out of his throat, an ironic plea for the girl he thought he was going to save. He knew blood was pouring out of his head, his leg, his back. Shutting his eyes, breathing-trying to breathe-to fight against the nausea cropping up in his throat. He had to...he had to get up. Kara couldn't see him there.
Craning his neck to look for Kara, whose head had turned toward his prone form laying on the stairs of their own apartment building. Her smile slowly disappeared. The civilians parted in her wake.
Oh, good. Winn thought humorlessly. No one dies today.
Not even good-for-nothing Winslow Schott Jr.
He saw Kara speeding toward him, then disappear behind the building next door. Hurrying out with her hair not-so-neatly pinned back and her plaid skirt slightly askew. Beautiful, Winn smiled. Even when she's flustered and just back from nearly dying.
"Winn!" he heard her call up to him. "Oh, oh my-Winn, I'm coming!" She hurried up the stairs in her black flats, shaking the unsturdy metal. Each tremor sent spikes of pain up Winn's leg. "I've got you. I've got you."
Winn chewed at the inside of his cheeks until he could taste iron in his mouth. Strong: that's all Kara has ever been for him. And at the first sign of him being able to be the strong one in the relationship, he freaks out. He fails so epically that he injured himself in the process of being the hero. And, the one that he thought needed the save ended up saving him. Again.
As always.
"Hey, Winn, I need you to say something. Tell me what happened," Kara pleaded. He met her eyes dazedly, his head still swimming from the contact.
"I-I thought-I thought you were going to...to…" Winn muttered, already realizing how ridiculous it sounded. Kara had hit the ground hundreds of times before in fights. What made him think that this time she wouldn't bounce back?
She knelt down to help him up, out of the hole he punched in the metal steps.
He was such an idiot.
Kara heard the creaking first. "I'm going to try and move you. These stairs aren't stable, okay?"
"Okay," Winn mumbled, swallowing hard to keep his lunch at bay. "Okay, okay, okay."
"Alright, on the count of three then?" Kara suggested. Winn swallowed again, nodding slightly as to not upset the delicate balance of handling pain. Kara nudged him as she moved around to grab him under his armpits.
"Give me five," Winn pleaded. "Wait, no, give me ten."
Kara braced his head with her forearms. "One."
Winn ground his teeth. His leg burned as it started to scrape against the jagged metal again. "Kara, Kara wait-wait-" Winn gasped.
"I'll get you out, Winn, just don't freak out," Kara said as she adjusted her grip. "Two?"
"Kara, no, wait, no. I'm not-don't-don't-"
"Three!"
Kara pulled. He felt his shoulders snap and crack under her strength as every nerve was set on fire by digging, igniting, molten stairs.
Winn screamed until his voice went hoarse. Kara tried to press her cold fingers over his lips, tried to press the blood back into his body, tried to shout for help because of course she couldn't risk being caught helping him as Supergirl.
A person-neighbor, maybe?-hovered over Winn, blocking out the bright lights that flashed around in his head.
"I'm going to call an ambulance," Kara said to the person defensively. "I'm just trying to get him off of these stairs before they collapse!"
"No, not an ambulance," Winn rasped solemnly, shaking from the effort to cope with the pain. "I am not-not paid enough to use an ambulance."
The person spoke briefly to Kara, pulled out a pair of keys, and jangled them loudly. "I can take 'im."
"Thank you, really, but I think-" Kara tried to argue. The man scoffed.
"The kid's about to faint from the pain, ma'am. Let me help somehow."
Winn licked his lips. "I am...I'm not about to faint," he said under his breath. Kara nodded in agreement before hoisting Winn into her arms. Then, when the man went back into the house, Kara looked both ways and flew off of the stairs, landing gently on the ground. Winn let his head loll in her arms, head still spinning, stomach churning with nausea. The civilians had dispersed. There was no cheering crowd. He had missed his chance to be the hero.
Kara jiggled his body slightly. "Are you still with me, Winn?" she called softly. Winn couldn't bring himself to nod. Instead, he just let his lips mouth a word that would have made Superman spit out his afternoon tea.
Kara only huffed out a short laugh.
They heard the man shout from the parking garage, waving the two over to his small two-door sedan. Kara started toward him, stepping gently so Winn wouldn't have unnecessary pain. Even so, by the time they got to the car, Winn was sweating, and the taste of bile was clogging his throat.
"You doing okay, kiddo?" the man asks, hand hovering over his mangled leg.
"Jus' not good with pain," Winn said, swallowing thickly.
"Do you mind if I try and wrap that up a bit? Stop some of the bleeding?"
Winn made a strangled noise. The man took it as a confirmation. As Kara slowly lowered him into the back of the car, the man pulled out a thick woolen blanket. Almost as if it was padding, he put it under Winn's thigh, wrapping it over the puncture wounds tightly. Grunting in discomfort, Winn instinctively reached for the man to stop. The man only met him with an even gaze.
"Hurt too bad?" he guessed. Winn shook his head after a second of thought. While something was definitely broken, the pressure made the nausea fade. Or maybe that was because he was finally sitting on solid ground.
The man slipped into the front seat with Kara settling next to Winn in the back, and he quickly reved the engines and rolled out of the garage and into the cities bustling streets. With the hospital in view, they made agonizingly slow time. Angry taxi drivers battled against carpooling families for the next light as their cars dodged horns and yellow lights.
Winn swore a few times as he closed his eyes, only to reopen them and see the hospital just as far away as the last time. Kara's voice, in all honesty, didn't help. He thought that it might-that's how it played out in the movies, right? A soothing voice and fingers through his hair would finally lull him into a calm, restful state in which the pain would dim and then she would kiss his forehead…
"Winn," Kara said a little louder, slapping at his cheek gently. "Winn, we're here."
Oh, thank god.
Soon, the car was parked and the man rushed out the door, leaving it open for the warm summer breeze to sweep over the silent backseat. Winn focused on his breathing.
He did not do pain well.
People-nurses?-swarmed the car and talked in slow, calm voices that only make his pulse pick up because he hated pain and nurses meant more pain not less. There were hands on him, pulling him out of the car and away from Kara, holding his leg and checking his vitals, asking him unanswerable questions, sweeping him into a wheelchair and pulling off his striped, sweat soaked cardigan. The emergency room came into view then-a blur of other injured, tired, sweaty people with normal lives and normal friends who hadn't just jumped off a building for their bullet-proof not-girlfriend.
An operation table appeared in front of him.
His heart rate spiked.
He knew because he saw it on the screen. Through the electrodes that got hooked up to his quickly bare chest. And by the doctor's wary look as he slapped gloves onto his hairy hands.
"This is just a mild sedative," a nurse cooed at his left. "We're just using this to calm you down."
Calm. What even was calm anymore? Winn certainly didn't do calm these days. Or any days. Really, he wasn't sure what calm felt like it had been so long since he felt the emotion.
A needle slid under his skin, cold and sharp.
Oh, that's how it felt.
Doctors with snappy gloves poked and prodded his body, then, looking for the worst of the damage. He was fairly certain he was x-rayed, though Winn wasn't exactly sure when. He felt higher than if he'd spent the night drinking and bar hopping.
Then he watched in slow motion as antiseptic was sloshed around his open wounds, as thread stitched together skin, and as his leg was set with a sickening but relatively painless snap. He held back any sound, since even through his drugged state he realized for the first time that Kara would be listening, waiting for the first sign of trouble.
Some nurse sat down near his head and talked slowly about the brokenness of his leg to him, talking medical nonsense as Winn clearly felt his leg being manipulated into a cast he certainly did not want to drag around to work every day. The nurse told him that there was no need to come back to get his stitches out, since they would dissolve on their own, and that he would be minimal weight bearing, with a big emphasis on listening to his body. With the knowledge that Kara was probably hearing all of this, Winn let his mind wander away from the conversation.
Is my phone still on the roof? he thought deliriously.
"Well, Mr. Schott," the doctor said, clearing his throat with an abrupt cough. "Are you ready to answer some of our questions now?" Winn craned his neck to see if his leg was casted, but after concluding there was nothing he could see comfortably, he answered.
"Yessir."
"Good. We need to know what happened."
Winn swallowed hard.
It was a lose-lose situation: he tells the truth, and Kara finds out how absolutely, ridiculously stupid he was going after her. He lies, and it could be a whole lot worse for his leg, not to mention what Kara might think of him...
So he put on his best, albeit sheepish smile, and began the story from the beginning.
He left out the part about Supergirl.
And the doctor brought in a specialist on suicide attempts.
It was another two hours until Winn was sent to an official hospital room. He spent a significant amount of time talking through his supposed "feelings" with a psychiatrist, about how much he had to live for as well as (very, very reluctantly) his traumatic childhood. With the sedative still in his system, he took it all rather well, considering that he would normally be reduced to a puddle of self-loathing tears when cornered into talking about himself and his past.
The hospital room looked like a closet that had been transformed last minute into a place to store patients instead of cleaning supplies. The bed was nearly against the wall, and the bathroom couldn't have been more than six steps away from the visitor's chair. Winn found that the nurse wasn't able to maneuver the wheelchair he was sitting in close enough to the bed, and he ended up hopping on one shaky foot until he landed harshly on the scratchy bed. Then the nurses swarmed again: pulling and prodding, attaching and detaching, checking and rechecking, until finally satisfied, they left him in silence.
Winn didn't like quiet.
It made him itch, the uncomfortableness of the air and his forced, almost sacred silence to match it. He could hear faint coughing from the hallway. The beat of his own, medically-induced, calm heart. And footsteps.
Loud, clipping, high-heeled footsteps.
Please, Winn pleaded silently. Please, please, please let it be Kara Danvers.
There was a hesitant knock on the door. Working his jaw until he was sure he would say the right thing, Winn called out from his spot on the bed: "Come in." It was weak, weaker than he wanted it to be, but it didn't matter if it was who he wanted it to be.
Kara stuck her head through the door, hair still subtly messy, outfit wrinkled. She had an uncertain smile on her face, one that didn't reach her eyes.
"Hey, Winn," she started, stepping through the door and closing it quietly behind her. "Can I ask how you're feeling?"
Winn snorted. "I assume you already know...what with your super-hearing and all," he answered, his tone light. Kara didn't take it the way he meant it. She sat down in the chair next to his head, slumping down and burying her head in her hands. After blinking a few times as to how Kara got from the door to the chair, Winn struggled to an upright position and patted her head with a little uncertainty.
"I'm not sure what I said wrong," Winn started slowly, his mental filter nearly abolished by the amount of pain medication he was on. "But now you're crying, and I don't think you're hurt. So I must've said something."
Kara hiccuped, scrubbing at her watery eyes under her glasses.
"I guess I'll answer your question then," Winn concluded with apprehension. "I don't feel real. I feel all...floaty. But my leg is heavy and my head has its own heartbeat… that's how I feel."
Winn watched Kara carefully before continuing.
"Did you watch me in the emergency room?"
Kara didn't answer.
"I hope you did. I wasn't listening to the nurses at all." Winn picked at the I.V. line in the back of his hand. "Plus, I'm fairly certain I was na-"
Kara abruptly stood up. "What were you thinking? The moment I… you… you couldn't," her voice was all defeat, all disbelief. "Not the Winn I know."
Winn fingered his hospital gown. "I thought you heard everything," he said under his breath.
"Of course, I heard everything. What were you thinking?"
"Were you listening to the therapy session, too? I'm fairly certain the lady explained exactly what I was supposed to be feeling!" Winn shouted back, hands balled into weak fists. Kara slammed her hands down on his bed. The foundations answered by creaking.
"You have absolutely no right to try and take your own life, Winn Schott! No right! That's the most selfish, the most-"
"I wasn't!" Winn screamed, grabbing his head, gritting his teeth. "I wasn't, I swear it!"
"Then what were you doing?" Kara accused, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "Enlighten me, and if you're lying-"
"I've done enough lying for the day," Winn assured her coldly. "I lied to the nurses, the doctors, the therapists, the psychiatrist. You're welcome, Supergirl."
"Oh, so it's my fault you nearly jumped to your death?"
"No!"
"Then what-"
"You were going to die, Kara! I thought you were going to die!" Winn slid his hands over his face, suddenly hyper aware of how tired he was. "You were falling, and-and-and you were unconscious, and I saw Kara Danvers, not Supergirl. I saw my best friend falling."
"So you wanted to-?"
"No, no, I didn't want to jump because you were going to die. I didn't want to jump at all. I called first. I called Alex, but the helicopters… and you didn't have much time. And there were balconies I jumped from. I thought if-if I could just get to the ground, I could do something. Be the… be the hero...for once."
Kara fell back into the chair, her hands meeting her mouth. "You…"
"It's always for you, Kara."
The two sat in silence, then, until Kara managed to speak. "I wasn't going to die, Winn."
Winn smiled weakly. "I, yeah, um, I know that. Now. I wasn't thinking that then. Love can-can do that to you...sometimes." He didn't dare look up, fearing that he'd said too much, and that Kara would storm out, slam the door, and not come back.
She can't do that, Winn thought, nerves jangling. I think she's my emergency contact number.
Then Winn felt his I.V. line get tugged out of the way as Kara carefully enveloped him in a hug, her strong arms pressing his battered body toward herself. The woman he would take a bullet for over and over again, no matter the illogical nature of taking a bullet for a bullet-proof person may be, held him and didn't let go.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack," Kara said through her tears. Winn maneuvered his arms so that he could hug her back, a smile creeping up on his face.
"Can you even have a heart attack?"
"I can when I have a friend like you."
Winn didn't even cringe at the word 'friend,' He just melted into Kara's arms, closed his eyes, and let his throbbing head rest against her shoulder.
Curse whatever nurse decided to enter without knocking and ruin the moment.
Kara regretfully unfolded herself from Winn, sitting down stubbornly in the visitor's chair. Pressing her glasses back onto her nose, her eyes drifted toward the nurse and her bustling ways: ticking watch, tapping fingers, and quick breaths. Even so, it took her a near eternity to explain all Winn was to do with his medications, what not to do with his leg, and how long until he needed to return for a follow up. Kara listened intently, scribbling away at a pad of paper and nodding when it seemed fit. When the nurse was satisfied, she set her clipboard down on the end of the bed and told him that he may as well get comfortable; he wouldn't be leaving until early morning.
The two watched her sweep back out of the room.
"I just want a sweatshirt, and a large container fries," Winn whined, after a second of thought, scratching at the hospital pajamas given to him. "And another hug," he added softly.
Kara smiled, the skin around her eyes crinkling happily as she instructed him to "Move over!" Winn painfully scooted to the side, his propped up leg protesting his heart's desires. Kara crawled over him into the bed, moving the sheets out of the way so that they would have the maximum amount of space. Then settling in, Kara grabbed the remote to the small TV. "What sounds good to watch?"
"Nothing," Winn admitted, as his eyes were already heavy-lidded. He yawned, rephrasing his answer. "Actually, you flying. I wouldn't mind watching that."
Kara shrugged, still smiling. "I'm game. You still have your phone on you?"
Winn chuckled, his head falling against Kara's muscular shoulder once again. "Yeah...no. This stupid gown doesn't have any pockets."
Kara turned toward him, her face all mock seriousness.
"Does that mean your phone is still on the roof?"
"Y...yeah. Probably, yeah."
"Do you mean to tell me that the man-of-all-tech does not have a single piece of technology on him?" Kara gasped, one hand slapping over her perfect lips.
Winn's mouth dropped open. "Give me that remote!" he cried, hands grappling for the tiny block in fake desperation. "Kara Danvers, give it to me! I need to have it!"
"No!" She laughed harder until her sides were heaving. "Never!"
Winn growled playfully, reaching as Kara held the remote over the side of the bed. Soon, both had headaches from smiling and damp cheeks from their laughter. As the room settled down, Winn sank into the pillows. His eyes barely stayed open.
"Hey, Kara?" Kara met his gaze. "Thanks for being here. With me."
"Of course, Winn."
He felt himself drifting off to sleep, guided by the pain medication.
"And Kara?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't do that to me again, okay? I can't lose you."
Kara didn't reply; really, Winn knew that she wouldn't. She couldn't make flippant promises with mere mortals like himself. She was… Kara. Beautiful, strong, heroic Kara.
And he was just Winn.
A tremor wracked his body when he thought of how lucky he was to have her near.
As he slowly fell asleep, he felt Kara wrap her arms around him, pulling him closer. Her chin rested on top of his sweaty head. Then, noticing his slight shiver, she pulled the thin sheet over his body. Even at this late at night, she was the vigilant hero.
He dreamed of lost phones and fries.
The early morning came in a blur.
Kara was pulled out of the room and spoken to by seemingly every hired worker in the hospital: psychiatrists, doctors, specialists, nurses, and even a janitor. She was gracious about it, filling out countless pieces of paperwork, poking her head back into the small room when she had questions.
"What's your pharmacy's name?" Kara shouted in, pen poised in hand. Winn blinked.
"Uh, uh, Pl...Plaza! Plaza Pharmacy!" Winn recalled, snapping his fingers. Kara nodded and ducked back out the door, leaving Winn to itch at his day-old stubble in silence.
Hours ago, a nurse came in to check him over, separating him from Kara (again, dang it), take out the I.V. line, and watch him toss back a few more pills. With a mournful glower, Winn did everything he was told to do, ranging from dressing in "normal civilian clothes" as he described to Kara, to deciding whether or not he wanted to rent a wheelchair or buy his own.
"Do you see any immediate future calamities befalling me?" Winn had asked Kara, looking down his nose at the stack of paper studiously. Kara had shrugged. "Super speed, super strong… not super decision maker," Winn huffed. "You are no help, Kara Danvers!"
Kara had smiled, waving her own stack of paperwork in the air. "Hey, you wanna trade?"
Winn shut up then.
Now, he was shoving hastily labeled orange medication bottles into Kara's purse and trying to ignore the pulsing in his head. The janitorial staff was impatiently tapping their feet, waiting for the two to clear out of the room so that they could stuff the next sorry sucker in the bed like a trapped sardine. Winn was shuttled into a hospital wheelchair, Kara batting away the semi-helpful nurses, and no later than five in the morning, they were out into the crisp air of National City.
The sun hasn't even dared to get up yet, Winn thought grudgingly.
With Winn's casted foot leading the way, Kara directed them toward a familiar two-door sedan. Winn coughed out a forced laugh. "Wh-at?" he choked. "This guy? Oh-ho, no. We are immediately blocking this guy on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter-"
"Winn," Kara scolded under her breath. "He helped us out. Big time."
"And he also witness the most embarrassing moment of my entire career. So far. I cannot look this guy in the eye."
"Well, face reality now or later: he's our neighbor. And he's not moving just because he saw you punch through his balcony floor."
Winn grimaced as the mental image of the catastrophe replayed in his mind. "Shame on him for not having his floor replaced," he complained weakly. "And for him not expecting a stranger to need to land on that balcony in order to save his friend-of-steel."
Kara ignored his jabs, raising her hand in greeting as the neighbor got out of the car and waved back. He had a navy hat on that sat low on his forehead. Winn could barely make out facial features, other than he had a sharp jaw and blond hair. A perfect charmer, Winn grieved. He's probably got Kara's number now, too. How long until they're dating...maybe three days?
Kara spoke first: "Thank you so much for picking us up. I'm not sure how we would have gotten onto the subway."
"My pleasure, ma'am." His voice was deep, too. He didn't remember that from the first time they met. Fantastic. He turned his attention to Winn. "You conscious?"
Winn was fairly certain he grunted rudely in response. It must've sounded like different to the outside world, because he was met with soft hands on his shoulders and a bent knee from the neighbor.
"You in pain?" he neighbor asked. Winn looked away, shifting in the seat uncomfortably. His eyes met Kara's, her wide eyes warning him to act normal.
Hah. Normal.
"Y-yer-no," Winn coughed. "Chrm, no. I'm on strong drugs."
The neighbor laughed a hearty, warm laugh. "The name's Kyle."
"Winn."
He clapped Winn on the shoulder twice, straightening up and jingling his keys in his other hand. "Let's get you home, kid."
Kid. Right.
Winn was unceremoniously picked up by Kara and positioned so that his gigantic casted leg could sit on more seat than Winn was sitting on. Then, the wheelchair was crunched together (Winn wasn't sure if it was supposed to do that or not) and stuffed into the trunk. Through it all, his leg remained mostly safely untouched.
The struggle took in total about twenty minutes.
Then the two-door sedan was on the road again soon after, slugging through the morning mist that hung low over the highway. Kyle drove carefully, two hands on the wheel and a constant stream of chatter flowing in Kara's direction. Winn let his head sag against the window, allowing the vibrations to deafen him to his surroundings.
"-Winn? Hey, Winn are you with us?" He heard the voice before he felt the hand on his good leg. Picking his head up grudgingly, Winn moaned softly. "Aw, I know. We'll be home soon, I swear it. Just rest-like that, that's perfect," Kara (of course, it was Kara's voice) comforted.
Kyle tapped his steering wheel. "Want some music, kid?" Winn moaned again. Kyle took it as a no, and kept talking instead. "Anyway, so I went up to the roof, since that's what I figured he'd jumped from, and I found a phone-" Winn perked up at the mention of his phone. "-it was shattered pretty bad, but it still turned on. Had six or seven missed calls on it, plus quite a few urgent texts from someone he must know. They sounded pretty worried about him."
"Oh my gosh, Alex, that's right!" Kara whipped out her phone. "I totally forgot to call her! Winn," she turned around, directing her plea to him. "Do you mind if we pull over a second? I never called Alex. She's probably worried sick."
Winn shrugged. "Why not? I'm getting pretty comfortable back here."
"Thank you!"
Kyle pulled through to the next exit, stopping at a gas station, Kara sprinting out the door to call her sister. Winn licked his lips nervously, finding himself alone with the stranger-neighbor-Kyle. Swinging the key ring around his finger, Kyle started up a hesitant conversation.
"So, you her man?"
"Wh-?" Winn choked, sitting up a little straighter. "What?"
"I asked if you were her man. Are you?"
Winn let out a forced laugh. "You think Kara Danvers would pick a guy like me?"
"Sure," Kyle answered confidently.
"Pffft-No. I'm not anyone's man."
"Oh, I didn't mean to-"
"No no, I'm not like that either!" Winn clarified, blushing deeply. "I'm just… permanently friend-zoned. With, like, every girl in National City."
Kyle laughed. "Preach it, brother."
Kid to brother, Winn smiled. What did I say that all of a sudden made me his equal? There's no way he hasn't got at least seven girls hanging on him at all times.
"You don't have a girl?" Winn asked hesitantly. Kyle shook his head, grinning as he dipped his hat lower over his face.
"Girl's don't necessarily jump at the chance to date a guy missing half of his face."
Winn let slip a few swear words as Kyle took off his hat. His forehead, down, over his eye, crossing his nose, was a fleshy burn wound. Involuntarily, Winn's mind went and pictured a villain-some alien with a killing streak of twenty. Kyle smirked at Winn's response, pulling his hat back down over the scar.
"Not so much the pretty boy you were expecting?"
"Are you kidding?" Winn squeaked. "You look straight out of a freaking video game!"
Kyle laughed, tapping the steering wheel again. "More like straight out of freaking Afghanistan. But, I'll take Call-of-Duty sniper any day."
Winn made a mental note not to block Kyle on Twitter.
Kara jumped back into the car, impatiently clicking her seatbelt back into place. "We're good. Thanks you two for understanding. That was important."
Kyle waved it away with a flick of his wrist. "Nah, don't worry about it. Winn's doing fine."
Winn slumped back against the window, nodding off again until he was directly addressed. The scenery rushed by, making his head spin and his stomach roil. Still, Winn stubbornly watched until the tallest buildings tapered away into apartments and houses, small businesses and coffee shops. A familiar parking lot. A ruddy brick building with one broken balcony.
Winn pumped his fist discreetly.
Bye Kyle with the sick scar! Winn cheered. Hello day filled with Kara Danvers' constant attention!
Kyle parked the car, getting out with a near comical warning for Winn to stay put until he figured out how to reconstruct the wheelchair. Kara leapt out to help him. That left Winn, alone, with his leg-with-a-pulse raised on the seat and stolen hospital pillows.
He listened to the laughter sneaking through the closed windows of the sedan. The tell-tale clanking of Kara's clumsy antics. Kyle's low voice. It seemed plausible enough to Winn that it was all a dream-yesterday's fall, last night's hospital ordeal, this early morning trip home.
How on earth did it happen all in less than thirteen hours?
Kyle was back at the window, tapping for Winn to sit up so he could open the door. Winn did as he was told, and gripped the leather seats to prop himself up momentarily. Then, Kara was there bracing him, slowly nudging him out of the car and into the waiting wheelchair. His body felt heavy and...amoeba like. Like maybe, if he wanted to swallow the wheelchair whole, his body would just melt around it. Kara kept him together, though, gently placing his casted leg on the footplate. He was not an amoeba. He was Winslow Schott Jr. who jumped off a building in a failed suicide attempt.
Oh, yeah. The neighborhood definitely knew.
Even at five thirty in the morning, there was craning necks out half-shaded windows. Coffee cup bearing neighbors nodded polite greeting as they discreetly picked up mail at the mailbox. A few of the even more curious lingered on the balconies.
Which made Winn's eyes trail to the confounded broken balcony. It still wasn't fixed.
"That's dangerous," Winn muttered as they rolled forward and the balconies disappeared from his line of sight. Kara only placed a strong hand on his slumped shoulder.
The elevator was small.
Really small.
Winn had never realized how inadequately, unbelievably small the space was until they tried to fit all three of them in the space together. With Winn's foot sticking straight out and elevated, the doors didn't close. With him angled sideways, Kara and Kyle couldn't fit. His leg on the ground almost made Winn burst into tears, and was quickly eliminated from the options. Awkwardly, Kara cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry, Kyle, I know you've been so supportive-"
"I'll catch up with you two later, actually," Kyle quickly held a knowing hand up to stop Kara's apology. "It's been a pleasure meeting both of you. I just wish it would have been because of happier circumstances."
Winn let slip an "Amen."
Kyle smiled. "Take care of yourself, brother."
"Hey, you too."
And the doors slid shut.
That left him and Kara Danvers. Alone. In an elevator. Less than four inches apart.
Winn sucked in a deep breath. Kara looked down, expecting him to be reacting out of pain, not...yeah.
"Are you okay, Winn?" she asked, rubbing circles into his back soothingly. Winn slunk lower in the seat.
"Hchk, no. This freaking elevator is too freaking slow."
But soon enough the wonderful sound of an approaching floor ding was heard. Winn gripped the grimy wheels at his sides and heaved forward the second the doors slid open. Kara scurried out of the elevator after him.
Winn was just so glad to be home.
He waved at Kara to throw him his keys, and after resorting to using her x-ray vision, Kara found them and tossed the small ring over. Winn fumbled, but recovered quickly, and with near religious silence, the lock clicked and the door swung open.
Home.
Most things were in disarray. His kitchen counter was packed with old breakfasts and quickly disposed coffee cups. The trashcan was overflowing. On the wall was three blinking, charging devices that Winn had left at home. His couch was covered in clothes that needed washing, and his floor hadn't been vacuumed in weeks, heck, maybe months.
As the color rose in Winn's cheeks, Kara simply clapped her hands.
"I've been waiting forever to find an excuse to clean up your man cave!"
"Yeah. No. Don't lay a single super-finger on any of my stuff. It's organized that way."
"It is not."
"Is too!" Winn argued, scooping up a pair of boxers quickly and tossing it in the clothes bin across the room. It missed, but was farther from Kara, which was the goal from the beginning anyway. "Besides, you don't need to stay for as long as this apartment needs to be back into decent shape."
Kara paused mid-pick up. "What do you mean?"
Winn dragged a tired hand over his face. "I mean you still have a life. A career. A superhero gig to run. You don't have time to be my nurse."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"Wha-no! No, of course not-"
"You are! You're trying to get rid of me!"
Winn reached for the nearest object on the ground, which happened to be a dress shoe-"I'm not!"-and threw it toward Kara. She caught it easily, found the match, and stuck it in the closet.
"You can't get rid of me that easily, Winn Schott."
"No," Winn breathed, silently relieved she wouldn't leave him. "No you cannot."
Later that night, afterWinn had been changed into a pair of pajamas, had called into work sick, and made a bucket of popcorn, the two friends retreated to the less-cluttered apartment that belonged to Kara. Winn could see the bustling city even though the curtains were pulled shut.
Kara let go of pushing the wheelchair to grab two glasses of water from the faucet. "Go ahead and pull up by the couch. I'll be there in a second to help you over."
Winn grouchily wheeled over. "I'd think about disobeying if I knew it wouldn't hurt so bad," he whimpered pitifully just thinking about putting pressure on his bum leg.
Kara returned quickly. "I know, you poor thing."
Winn jutted out his chin. "Don't do that face."
"What face?"
Oh, she had to know she did 'the face.' With her big blue eyes slightly squinted, her eyebrows barely raised, and her forehead wrinkling daintily. Her lip pouting just noticeably. Her head tilted to the left just a hair from normal. The face.
It nearly killed Winn every time it showed up.
Kara shook her head, smiling, arms folding over her chest. "You are on too strong of drugs to be usefully observant. Let's do something brainless."
Winn's heart jumped into his throat. "S-sure."
And, while it took only a few minutes to get Winn onto the couch, it felt like a small eternity. Kara's arms were around him, her soft sweater brushing up against his neck…
"-Winn?"
He jolted back into reality. "Hm?"
"I was telling you to stay put." She turned toward the door as a knock rang through the room. "I'm coming! One second!" she shouted at the door. No, whoever was on the other side of the door.
Winn made a face. They were about to do something brainless.
Kara opened the door swiftly. Winn peered over the edge of the couch.
There was no one on the other side.
Another discreet fist pump!
"He left." Kara restated helpfully. Winn let out a fake sound of regret.
"Awh, bummer! We'll just have to go back to being brainless."
Kara shook her head, confused at the empty doorway. Strange enough, as long as the hallway was, there was not even someone slyly slinking away. Winn snuggled down into the blankets around him. "You done got pranked, Kara Danvers," he snorted. "Stop looking like you've never been pranked before!"
"I haven't," Kara said wistfully. Then she bent down out of Winn's line of sight. She picked something up. "It's your phone."
Dang.
It.
Kyle.
Kyle'd have stolen her heart right there on the spot, if he hadn't robbed it from Winn the moment Kara had laid eyes on him. He was ever the prince charming, not the frumpy troll that falls off of buildings that Winn seemed to be resonating on a spiritual level with.
Kara brought the cracked phone over to the couch, grinning all the way. Her eyes said everything.
Stupid handsome heroic neighbors.
Now they weren't going to do something brainless after all.
"Well, let's see the film!" Kara shouted suddenly, holding out the phone to Winn. "You think it still works?"
"It better," Winn mumbled. "I didn't jump off a building just for kicks."
And so, the phone was resurrected with Gorilla Glue and a few sloppily placed pokes with a screwdriver. It was all to show off, of course. What Kara knew wouldn't kill her: the phone worked from the beginning. Stupid handsome heroic neighbor Kyle must have saved it from the elements in time.
Winn plugged in adapter, and the television lit up the room with a perfect blue sky.
The camera panned to Kara's smiling face, glasses on and all. "Is it rolling?"
"Yeah, so look intelligent," Winn said behind the camera. Kara laughed, brushing strands of hair behind her ear that the wind picked up and tossed around her face. The camera jostled again, almost lopsided as half of Winn's face appeared on screen, squinting to see. "This is Winn Schott reporting live at the top of our apartment building in the bustling center of National City. I have hear the most priceless treasure of this universe-Kara Danvers-standing behind me, now Kara the world needs to know: what is your best trick in the sky?"
Kara's face scrunched up in a mockery of thinking. "Well, Mr. Schott, I'd have to say how high I can go! Technically speaking, I can survive higher altitudes than most private jet planes."
"Very impressive, Ms. Danvers!" Winn had said to the screen, eyes wide with admiration. "Do you mind giving the viewers back home a quick demonstration?"
Kara nodded firmly, hands on her hips, before taking two steps and shooting into the air. Winn fumbled with the camera, the screen twisting this way and that, before it settled on the ant-like figure of Kara in the sky.
It was beautiful.
She flipped, twirled, and broke apart the clouds with her speed. Winn's camera haphazardly zoomed in on Kara, shaking slightly.
Winn laughed. "I'm a terrible camera man! Look at me shake!"
Kara shushed him. "Quiet! I can't hear!"
Winn was narrating again. "This is truly a monumental moment for the world as we know it. Kara Danvers has officially been flying on her own power, with no parachute, for over seven minutes-"
The camera was dropped forgotten at Winn's side, landing with the camera facing up. The view showed Winn, hands in his hair, eyes terrified.
"Oh shi...oh shi-!" Winn ran away from the camera, shoes crunching loudly on the cement roof, his clear vocals disappearing behind the loudness of his panic.
Kara reached over and grabbed his hand.
Winn started to sweat.
The camera, still rolling, started to catch Winn's dialogue. It was just stuttering; pure, mindless stuttering that eventually resulted in "Alex? It's Winn. I know this is Kara's phone. Kara's falling."
There was silence, only interrupted by a feral cry from Winn.
"She's going to die, Alex!"
Silence.
The camera filmed on.
"I have…I have to…" Winn didn't finish his thought, though it was clear his meaning. His feet flew past the phone, a flurry of loose rubble.
"New plan," he muttered. He flew past the phone again.
Both members of the audience flinched as they heard the loud bang of Winn hitting the balcony and his bitten back sob as he landed. Kara squeezed his fingers tightly.
Winn ground his teeth to not cry out from the pressure increase.
Another bang.
Another.
Then a scream-an ear splitting, wounded scream that made the birds fly over the camera in a flutter of panic. His leg must have just ripped through the metal.
Then came an agonizing wait. The weeping and moaning continued, Winn huffing below so loudly that the phone on the roof above still picked it up. Kara hadn't arrived yet, and she wouldn't for the next minute.
"Winn! Oh, oh my-Winn, I'm coming!" There was thudding as Kara leapt up the stairs. "I've got you. I've got you."
"Stop the tape," Kara whispered, eyes still glued onto the screen. "Winn, how can I stop the tape."
Winn reached over and stopped the video.
There was another seven hours of sky left.
Their eyes met as Winn set the phone down, Kara still gripping onto his hand.
"You jumped off a building for me." It was a statement.
"And I would do it again," Winn clarified.
Kara leaned in, her head softly pressing against Winn's shoulder.
She was smiling.
And Winn Schott, the I.T. of CatCo and the man-in-the-chair for Supergirl, was terrified.