Gif prompt requested by captaincartervalues.
TW: Mentions of suicidal ideation. Scenes of self-loathing.
Picture Prompt: image/167242292841
She hears Kara, she does. She hears her push open the door she most certainly forgot to latch because she is a Luthor after all and she poisons children after all and maybe she's making it much too difficult for people to find her after all. She hears Kara, hears her call her name, hears the tremble in Kara's voice when, given the circumstances, she thinks the sound should be cold, hard. Why can't Kara let it go? Let her go? But she doesn't say anything, just keeps drinking, hoping Kara will abandon her pursuit. Past experience and her general intelligence suggest the opposite will happen, but bitter self-hatred dies hard.
Apparently, she thinks too hard because the thin glass shatters in her hands. So much for not breaking everything she touches.
"Lena," Kara asks again, walking into the kitchen. Her worried eyes are almost enough for Lena to break. To cry and hurt and feel. Almost.
"Hey," she says, voice slowed by the alcohol. "Hey, look: I made a metaphor."
If Kara notices the lag, she doesn't say anything. "Are you here alone?" Lena bristles slightly at the waver in Kara's voice. It's all too much to bear. If only Kara could see what Lena has only recently allowed herself to admit: she will never be good enough, worthy enough, to shed herself of the Luthor name.
"Sam's running my company, Ruby's at a friends, what news from the front?" she says instead.
"Nothing yet," Kara says, trying to hold it together, busying herself with cleaning up the broken glass. They don't need another accident today.
But Lena sees right through her defenses. "You know," she smirks like the cat that ate the canary, "you're terrible at hiding things from me." She purses her lips, takes another long sip.
Kara chuckles, a self-deprecating sound if she's ever heard one. "I wouldn't be so sure of that."
"Really?" Lena manages to raise one perfectly sculpted eyebrow despite her intoxicated state. "You're hiding from me right now." She takes another sip. "About how I killed all those children."
"Lena—"
"No, of course I would spend years trying to make a new name for myself, trying to make my company, my money, a source for good, only to poison children sitting in hospital beds."
"Lena, you didn't—"
"—Just stating a fact," Lena interrupts. She blows out a heavy breath, the hand on her wine glass unsteady. "You're protecting me, I get it. There's been plenty of times I have wanted to protect you, too."
"We don't know for sure. There's still hope."
"I'm not so sure about that." She meets Kara's eyes. "Just accept it. I have."
"I'm not going to stop believing in you. You're my best friend." Kara turns to look at Lena. I have never questioned your integrity and I'm not about to start now."
"Why?" Lena's voice is devoid of expression. It is dull, lethargic, grating to hear. So lost in the depths of pain and loathing that all of Lena's light is diminished.
Kara looks at her, eyes filled with compassion. "You're worth it, Lena. Don't you see that? All those organizations you fund to help people? The times you text me at 2 AM with a brilliant idea that you just can't until morning to tell me about? The ways you fight for those without a voice?" Kara shakes her head, soft but firm, when Lena goes to cut her off. "It's true. That's what I see in you. And I know," Kara pauses, taking a deep, shuddering breath, "I know what it feels like to be disillusioned by our families. I know what it feels like to make such a horrendous mistake that you don't know who you are anymore. I know what it's like to lose everyone's trust just after you've gained it. I know how much that hurts. It feels like you're dying. But you come back. And you, Lena, will come back."
There's silence for a moment. Nothing more than shallow breaths and barely restrained tears. Nothing more than the hum of the TV in the other room and a car being unlocked just outside.
Until a single tear drops—the tear Lena so badly didn't want to shed when Kara first walked in the door. "What did you do? After the red kryptonite. How did you come back from it?"
And, slow to process, Kara just stares. Until her mouth falls open and her eyes widen in fear and Lena sees the guilt mar her soft, strong features. Until Kara takes a seat on the stool next to her and sighs. "How long have you known?"
"I had my suspicions when you started asking about Roulette. But I've been relatively confident for a while now. The glasses don't really help."
Kara lets out a breath. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Figured you would tell me when you were ready. Sometimes I simply assumed you wouldn't want a Luthor to know."
"Lena, I trust you more than I trust anyone else, except for maybe Alex," Kara gives a small chuckle, out of anxiety or hopes of lightening the mood, she doesn't know.
"Those thoughts were mostly reserved for bad days and after a glass of scotch."
The skin between Kara's eyes crinkle. "Don't ever think for a second I would've kept this from you forever. It has nothing to do with you." Lena hums non-committedly, so Kara grabs Lena's unoccupied hand, stumbling to make things right, to explain her muddled thoughts. "I didn't tell you at first because I wasn't really allowed. And everyone kept fighting with me about it. And then, once I had convinced everyone that you were good, I was scared. No, I was selfish. I didn't want to lose you. But then I waited, and I waited too long, and I wasn't sure what to do, and I was practicing how I would tell you and going over the scenarios in my head and every one of them ended badly and—"
Kara pauses. Kara pauses and Kara furrows her brows and Kara deflates. "And you're crying."
She pulls her hand away, unsure if Lena would appreciate the contact now after…everything.
Lena sets down her wine glass and reaches up to wipe a few of her tears away. "It just, it feels so good to hear you say that."
"Well, it's the truth."
"But at the same time, it hurts. Because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve all your faith in me."
Kara reaches forward, waiting for the slight nod of confirmation before she wraps her arms around a trembling Lena. "Let me be the judge of that. You've had my trust from early on, but you've proved it again and again since then. Let me have faith enough for the both of us. Okay?" she whispers, the words tickling the shell of Lena's ear.
And she breaks. The dams fail and the waterworks emerge as sobs wrack her body, Kara being the only one keeping her from falling to the ground. Kara being the only one keeping her from melting into a puddle of despair and pain and self-hatred and guilt. Kara being her anchor.
When the tears finally quiet to nothing more than sniffles and red, bleary eyes, Kara gives an extra tight squeeze and pulls back just far enough to see Lena's eyes. "Why don't I draw you a bath? I'm sure Sam and Ruby have something around here. Maybe even a fun bath bomb," she says with a fond smile.
Lena chuckles at the tangent, a sniffle breaking through at the end. "You don't have to do that."
"Of course I do." Kara gives her an exasperated smile. "Didn't we just go over this?" Kara shrugs, but the sincerity in her eyes shine through. "I don't know about you, but I like to take care of the people I love. You look like you need someone to take care of you for a little while." At the increased speed of Lena's heart, Kara continues, "And yes, I meant it. Of course I did."
Lena pffts and Kara's heart warms because it seems to be a trait Lena has picked up from her. "I know. You're my best friend."
"Well, yes, you are my best friend. Always. Tomorrow we can talk about the other type of love, what I really meant. But right now, you need a warm bath, followed by some fuzzy pajamas, and some rest." Kara stands up, gently tugging Lena with her.
"Will you stay?" Lena asks, quiet, scared.
"As long as you want me to." Kara smiles. Quietly, she adds, "To answer your question, that's how I got through Red K. With the people who stayed."
Thoughts? And yes, given the mood of the original scene, I forewent anger.