Twisted

Notes: Find me on Tumblr at spoopercorp and on AO3 as Local_Asshole.

Summary: Lena and Kara struggle with a deeply personal matter, and the latter does her best to be there for her wife, but several obstacles inhibit both of their recoveries.

TRIGGER WARNING: MISCARRIAGE, IMPLIED SUICIDE ATTEMPT, CUTTING, AND JUST ANGST IN GENERAL.

"Lena?"

Nothing.

"Lena."

Still nothing.

"Lena!"

The Luthor felt her shoulders being gripped by a pair of strong, gentle hands and she was shaken out of her blank state.

"Huh?"

Kara frowned, knelt in front of her wife sitting on the bed and placed a comforting hand on her knee and rubbed in soothing circles.

It had been several weeks since the horrific event.

They had lost a potential child to a miscarriage.

Since then the two have been almost inseparable, but at the same time, distant. They no longer slept together, opted to sleep on opposite ends of the rather large bed for the couple, but they still shared hugs, although it felt hollow and empty and utterly useless. They no longer went out on their usual dates, spontaneous or not. They rarely spoke because both were too fearful of broaching the taboo subject; it was also due to Lena's duties as a C.E.O. and burying her grief under workloads of paper, and then there was Kara, coping with the detachment with her heroics and going out of her way to take care of crimes outside of National City.

Lena though, she rarely ate, drank, slept; she had all of her work productively done within a week.

And it drove her absolutely insane.

To the point where she would actively look for something to do, even giving her personal assistant a lengthy vacation so she could work herself to death even more in her absence.

Kara often came home to a spotless abode, her wife constantly cleaning an already cleaned apartment.

It was a better coping mechanism than what Lena resorted to in the beginning.

At first, the blonde was extremely confused as to what she was going home to, the familiar pungence of iron especially prevalent as it wafted throughout the apartment.

Her heightened alien senses did not exclude her sense of smell, but she could not pinpoint the source of the peculiar odor even when she utilized her x-ray vision to scan throughout the home.

Kara gave up after three days trying to look for it and soon she became used to the smell.

Until a week later when she found that the bathroom was often in a messy array.

Well, not 'messy' per say, but less clean than the rest of the abode with drawers half opened, the tub often wet with watery residue, and not to mention the toilet clogged more often than not.

Then Kara noticed that Lena often came home later than usual, when she was already in bed and asleep, too groggy to even stir.

But that was not unusual.

What was unusual was that Lena looked paler, gaunter, the bags under her eyes now a part of her appearance for every second.

At first, Kara thought it was stress, and part of it was - they had lost a potential child, they had lost a chance to start a family. Yes, there would always be other chances, but it did not make it any less traumatizing; this certain event would always be nagging in the back of their minds.

Finally, Kara had enough; enough of the putrid iron smell that of which she could not find, enough of Lena coming home late, enough of the dark cloud that hovered over them both.

That same day the blonde found her wife sitting naked in the bathtub, near unconscious, water running along with the blood down her forearms and wrists.

Was the blood diluting the water or was the water diluting the blood?

Kara sat at the hospital with Lena every single day, visited always, even if it was just for a few seconds - not even her hero duties stopped her from checking up on her wife.

The Luthor refused to talk, always averted her eyes whenever their conversations neared the reason why she was at the hospital.

The blonde's patience wore thin and she nearly stormed into the hospital room, fuming.

"Did you ever consider what you'd do to me if you killed yourse-" she cut herself off, now a broken whisper, "If you died?"

"I did."

Kara's heart broke and so did the floodgates, "You could've told me you were feeling this way... That was...that was my child too, our child."

Lena shook her head and frowned, tears running down her cheeks as well, "It wasn't my intention to die, I..." she winced, "I sliced deeper than I thought."

Somehow, this truth relieved Kara, but only slightly and she proceeded to sit on the hospital bed next to her wife.

She interlaced their fingers together.

"I thought I was going to lose you..."

Lena smiled, "No. Not now. Not ever."

At Kara's and the doctor's bidding, the Luthor managed to schedule therapy appointments to deal with her depressive and often dissociative state of being, to find herself new coping mechanisms.

Since then it was deathly quiet and Kara was so patient, but felt that if it continued any longer...something would eventually give out, and she was not ready for the repercussions.

So, she stayed strong. For Lena. But it was difficult for herself as well, not being able to feel the lively kick against her wife's porcelain skin when she came home.

It had been several months and she had enough, decided to take more assertive and aggressive measures.

Lena startled back into reality when she felt a soft hand squeeze her cold pale fingers gently, and a pair of blue and green connected.

Kara smiled tentatively, prepping herself for rejection or anything of the sort, "Want to go out tonight? After work, of course."

And maybe it was what they both needed.

To move on that is, even if it was a struggle, but they would do it together.

Lena smiled back, nodded her head in genuine enthusiasm and squeezed Kara's hand back lovingly.

The swell in the blonde's heart and the beaming grin she had was filled with hope and adoration.

Notes: Constructive criticism appreciated.