(from the minute i met you)

by bs13

When Lena loses her memory, there is a hard choice for Kara to make: to try to win back the woman she loves, or accept that it's time to let her go. But it's not quite as simple as that...especially since Lena's family wants to win her back, too. (The Vow AU)

4. now we're dancing like we're done

"My first kiss…wow. I don't remember."

"Really." Lena peeks out from behind the rim of her cup, entertained smile slowly making itself known.

"It might've been…high school? Sophomore year?" Kara takes a bite of her pancakes and is dismayed when she feels syrup drip onto her chin.

"I'm the one with amnesia and yet you can't remember your first kiss? That has to be a lie," Lena says.

The truth is Kara does remember her first kiss. But just like she had the first time she shared this story with Lena, she carefully picks out bits and pieces of the truth.

"Okay, maybe it's just very embarrassing," Kara relents.

"I knew it. Do tell," Lena prompts, smiling sunnily as she lowers her mug.

Kara wipes off her chin and pretends she has trouble remembering the specifics. "His name was Kenny," she admits. "I accidentally broke his nose."

"You broke his nose?"

"Yes, because I have a very hard head," Kara says. "And I did not know how to kiss. At all."

"How many times have you broken my nose?" Lena's eyes sparkle mischievously. This is new, with the whole "dating" thing; Lena is less reserved, every bit as flirty and playful as the first time they met.

"You, luckily, have never had the misfortune," Kara replies. "But after I told you this story, you insisted that it hurt every time I kissed you for the next two weeks."

"Hm." Lena takes another sip of her coffee. "It's odd to hear about things I've done. I never would've imagined myself like that."

"Like what?"

"Trusting," says Lena matter-of-factly. "I must have been pretty comfortable around you." There's that scientist in her, calculating data and posing questions and forming a hypothesis; only instead of analyzing music, she's examining her marriage.

"You were." Kara forces herself to take another bite of her food. "So what do you think? Isn't this the best coffee you've ever had?"

Lena shrugs, for show. "I think mine is better," she says. "But it's decent."

"Wow, I forgot how much of a coffee snob you are," Kara jokes. "You know, before we started dating you used to let me put whipped cream in your black coffee even though you hated it."

"Now that is embarrassing," Lena says. "What kind of woman did you reduce me to, Kara Danvers?"

"A woman who enjoys a bit of whipped cream now and then, I hope."

"All your talents have gone to waste, then," Lena says. "I'm perfectly happy with my black coffee."

"Yeah, it never stuck." Kara happily takes a gulp of her own now lukewarm drink. Hers is topped with as much whipped cream as humanly possible. "Alex says we're complete opposites in a lot of ways."

"And Alex…is your sister." When Kara nods in affirmation Lena sits up a little straighter, quite proud to have remembered. "You haven't brought her to meet me yet."

"I wasn't sure if you were up to the whole 'family reunion' thing," Kara winces. "But she'd be ecstatic to come over for dinner. My mother, too."

"So you have a mother…" Lena says, and when Kara starts to laugh, dissolves into giggles herself. "Okay, seriously, I know nothing about your family. You've never even pointed them out to me in pictures."

The funny thing is Kara hadn't realized that. She's always left Lena to her own devices when trying to regain her memory, for the sake of not being pushy; Kara's offered a memory or two here and there, but for the most part Lena has been the one asking the questions and pushing to remember.

"What do you want to know?" Kara asks. She faintly registers Lena crossing her legs beneath the table—another nervous tic.

"Anything. Anything you want to tell me," Lena says. "About you, your sister, your mother, your father…"

"I don't know where to start," Kara says, truthfully. "Are you sure you're up to it? Might be heavy material for a first date."

"Are you saying we didn't talk about anything substantial on our real first date?"

Kara bites back a smile. "'Substantial'?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." Kara accidentally bumps her leg against Lena's. "I can't remember everything we talked about, honestly. But probably the usual first date stuff."

"And have you had many first dates?" A tease. Lena makes it hard for Kara not to reach over and squeeze her hand, maybe press a kiss to her palm.

"Do you have such little faith in me?" Kara plays along. "I'm certainly not the heartbreaker type."

"You could be," says Lena decidedly, tilting her head to give Kara a once-over. "You're charming enough."

A hot blush crawls up Kara's neck. "Well…thanks?" she tries. "I mean, if anything you're the one who's really—you know."

"Who's really what?" Some of the earlier mirth has faded to genuine curiosity. Lena does want to know.

"Captivating," Kara says. "You always have been." Privately, she thinks it's odd that Lena has never realized that. She's never once noticed the effect she has on people—never even acknowledged it when Kara pointed it out to her once. She'd chalked it up to Kara being sweet.

But Kara knew. And she was never immune to it for a second.

Lena clears her throat. "Okay," she says, "I think we're getting off track."

Kara, too, shakes off the charged moment. "Are we?"

"Yes. You have to tell me about you." Lena pours herself a second cup of coffee. They'd asked for the whole pot, just like the old days.

"If you want a basic profile, it's nothing glamorous," Kara says. "I was adopted into a loving home at thirteen. I have one sister, Alex, and a bunch of friends who are practically family. I have a mom—Eliza—and I used to have a dad, too, but Jeremiah died a few years ago."

Lena blinks. "Suddenly I understand why you said it might be heavy."

"I did warn you."

"Let's start with the fact that you're adopted," Lena says. "Obviously I'm also adopted. Hey, have I found my birth father in the past four years?"

Kara suddenly remembers this is a dangerous game. "Um…"

"Sorry. That's not a question about you," Lena says. "Do you know who your birth parents are?"

Kara thinks she nods yes. "I remember them really well," she says. "They're dead now, but—they'll always be my parents. I love my family now, of course, but there will always be a part of me that belongs to them alone."

"God, Kara, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to reopen old wounds." Lena, unprompted, reaches over to rest her hand over Kara's.

Her fingertips are cold, but there is a residual heat from her palm from holding her coffee cup. This touch after months of nothing is electric, sparking a warmth from the back of Kara's hand to her stomach. She doesn't dare move.

But she does manage to reply. "No, don't worry. It doesn't hurt to talk about my parents. I miss them every day, but it's gotten easier."

"I miss my mother sometimes." Lena bites her lip, pensive. "I don't actually have any memories of her beyond watching her die, but—I like to think she was kind. And loving. At least, I hope she was."

"I'm sure she was," Kara reassures her. "No one could not love you."

"That sounds suspiciously biased."

"Well, I am speaking from experience."

Lena laughs. She tries to hide her smile as she rests her cheek against her fist, shyly peeking up at Kara in a way that can only be described as endeared. "Okay, I get it. You're charming. Relax a little."

"If this was a normal first date that'd be a good thing though!"

"If this was a normal first date you'd be coming on awfully strong," Lena teases. "You know something? I can definitely say that this is the strangest first date I've ever been on."

Kara's heart sinks. "Oh."

"But," and is that a blush?, "I don't mind. I'm…having a good time."

"Yeah?" Kara sits up a little straighter.

"Yeah."

.

.

.

Kara still gives Lena as much space as possible.

They're a bit more open now—Lena had even asked her quite seriously, "Did you know I have a tattoo?" as if it isn't the biggest and most obvious tattoo Kara's ever seen—but at the same time, very aware of each other.

They sidestep each other to get ready in the morning. They make separate breakfasts. The only constant is Lena's coffee, which she will leave for Kara in the pot.

Lena even leaves before Kara does most days, just like she used to. She will feed Mystery—who comes and goes as he pleases—and tell Kara goodbye almost as an afterthought. There's certainly no romance flitting through her mind.

But there is a tension heavy in the home all the same. There are many almosts. An almost touch of fingertips, an almost brush of knees, an almost fumble into each other's arms.

Kara could get lost in her feelings these days. The shyness of their encounters reminds her of the Lena she fell in love with and, ultimately, gives her hope for their future; if this will help spark the recovery of Lena's memory, then every awkward moment will be worth it.

She has a chance to do things differently, if she looks at it that way. But she would hate the person who would take advantage of a situation like this. She'd hate herself more if she became that person.

So taking things slow becomes their priority.

Maybe it's odd to have movie night like they used to—odd to make their dates something they've already done—but since everything is new to Lena, Kara commits to making new memories.

They sit together under too many blankets than necessary and watch Mean Girls (Lena's guilty pleasure) while sharing popcorn; it is, by all standards, a rather ordinary evening. In Kara's eyes, it's absolutely perfect.

"So you're telling me," Lena says, "that I made you watch this movie on our third date?"

"It was more of an…improv date," Kara says. "Like, maybe our third-and-a-half date."

"But I made you watch it."

"I was more than happy to watch it," Kara counters. "It's basically the only movie you've ever seen that's not boring, silent, or black and white. Of course I was excited."

"My mother was to blame—she always said teen movies and rom coms were garbage," Lena says. "I was a rebellious teenager, okay? Sue me."

"Lucky for you, I already know the story of how you smuggled this DVD under your shirt in order to see it when you were fifteen," Kara says. "So no need to worry about retelling the dangerous, high-rolling Lena Luthor high school days."

"Oh my God, did I tell you that story on our third date?"

"Third-and-a-half."

"Are you sure I liked you? It sounds like I was purposefully trying to scare you away." On screen Aaron Samuels asks what day it is. Lena refrains from mouthing Cady's reply.

Kara grins. "Nope," she says. "You just liked talking to me. I'm a good listener."

"That's a likely story." Lena burrows further under the blankets. Her hair, which is in a loose side braid, comes the slightest bit undone. "I don't know what you saw in me."

"Everything," Kara says. "Everything about you."

Lena rests her head against her arm and makes an unimpressed huffy sound. "I'm serious," she says. "I know what I'm like. Veronica's told me what I'm like."

"What did she say?" Kara bristles without thinking. "I'll beat her up for you. If you want."

"That is surprisingly violent, Kara." But Lena is amused; a smirk toys on her lips, fluctuating between subtle and overt. "Who knew there'd be some steel under that geeky getup?"

"Geeky?" Kara pinches the collar of her T-shirt, a lovingly worn concert memento from seeing Boys Like Girls one summer with Alex. "How am I geeky?"

"You have a whole way about you," Lena says. "You even have adorable glasses." As if to demonstrate, she uses her index finger and pushes them up Kara nose. "It's cute, though. I must've found you very refreshing."

"Well…I know I would never say you're—whatever Veronica said."

"Oh, it was nothing bad," Lena hums. "Nothing I haven't thought myself. Like the fact that I'm a bit cold. Distant, too. She always said she couldn't figure out whether I really liked her or not."

"You're not cold," Kara counters. "You're reserved, yeah, but I've always been able to tell that you loved me. Despite what you might think, you're pretty romantic."

Lena playfully narrows her eyes. "You're lying."

"I'm not! It's the truth. Once, on Valentine's day, you surprised me with one of those giant chocolate boxes and let me eat the whole thing." Kara pauses to consider her words. "That sounded more romantic in my head."

"Giving material gifts is easy," Lena retorts. "It's harder to be sentimental, or—give something meaningful."

"Are you kidding? You're the best at being sentimental," Kara says. "You would always say that the two of us meeting was something like fate. If that isn't swoon-worthy, then I don't know what is."

"I really thought that?" Lena's voice is soft. Vulnerable.

"Yeah." Kara dares to mirror Lena's pose, eyes fixing determinedly on hers. She has mapped out every inch of Lena's face and knows it better than anyone, but she could never get tired of looking at her.

Lena blinks, once or twice. Almost as if she is seeing Kara for the first time. "Kara…"

She obviously has more on her mind. But instead of continuing their conversation, she leans in to kiss Kara instead.

It would be so easy to sink into it. So easy to grip onto Lena's waist, so easy to tilt her head and open her mouth and feel Lena gasp against her. So easy to forget everything else for a minute.

But Kara breaks away before Lena can kiss her properly; she feels the phantom warmth of Lena's fingertips as she reaches for Kara's cheek, and gently redirects Lena's hand to her own lap.

"Lena," she murmurs. "I can't—I—"

Lena snaps back almost immediately. She isn't upset, but her bewilderment is clear as day. "Am I moving too fast?"

"No. Yes. I don't—I don't know. But it doesn't feel right." Kara sighs. Her heart breaks seeing Lena's eyes; they are wide, indignant, but still as dazzlingly green as ever. "What are we doing?"

"Dating," Lena says, like it's that simple.

"I know. I know we're trying the whole dating thing. But isn't it a lot of pressure on you? I don't want to be the person you kiss just because I'm available." Kara hesitates. "Believe me, I'd love to kiss you. Endlessly. But you're…"

The touch of a hand against her collarbone makes her freeze. "Kara, I kissed you," Lena says. "If I didn't want to kiss you, I wouldn't have."

Kara gulps. "I just don't want you to feel pressured for this to go a certain way."

Lena's brow furrows in that serious manner of hers. "I know I'm not very good at saying how I feel," she says. "But trust me. I'm okay with how this is going."

The way she shrugs it off—this idea that it's not so bad to date Kara, to kiss Kara—it only pains Kara more. "But do you even like me?" she blurts out helplessly. "Or do you feel like you have to fall in love with me again because it's expected of you?"

The long, pregnant pause she receives is certainly answer enough. Lena's hand drops from Kara's shirt and curls into a fist at her side. "I do like you," she says. "God, do you really think I'd force myself to date you? Contrary to what you might think, I don't exist to make other people happy." She shoves the blanket off of her body, nearly tumbling off the couch in her hurry to stand. "I don't know what you want me to say, Kara, or how you want me to act. I'm sorry if I keep disappointingyou."

Kara does not dare stand up too, only tightly clasps her hands together. "I'm sorry. Rao, Lena, I'm sorry. I just want you to live your life however you want."

"Then don't expect so much from me!" Lena shouts, but her stricken expression betrays any semblance of anger. "Don't treat me like I'm made of glass, okay? I said I wanted to try. So let me try."

"You're right. I'm sorry," Kara repeats, again, as though this time it will be sincere enough to stick. "I would never want to undermine your recovery process. But I don't want to smother you either! I would hate to be that person who just assumes you're okay with all of this."

"Don't you trust that I'll tell you if I feel overwhelmed?" Lena asks. "Can you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you." Kara jumps to her feet at last. "I really, really don't want to be an asshole. So. Whatever you need, or want, I'm here."

Lena only stares at her for a long moment, until: "You worry about pretty much everything, don't you?"

"Pretty much," Kara agrees, and that makes Lena crack a tiny smile.

"Well, I can't ever say you're not determined," Lena says. "So thank you."

"Yeah, no problem." Kara waits another agonizing minute before she says, "Um. Can I…can I ask if this is helping? The whole. Dating thing."

The slump of Lena's shoulders would be answer enough. "No," Lena quietly admits nonetheless. "No, I still can't remember anything. Not even a single memory."

"Okay." Kara flexes her fingers to busy her hands; it helps distract her from the urge to draw Lena into her arms. "Well, that's all part of the process, right? A few rough patches and then…hopefully an eventual breakthrough."

Her attempt to cheer Lena up does not work. She knows it doesn't work, because Lena merely nods, jaw tightening the slightest bit before she answers, "I know."

Lena carefully takes a seat on the couch again. This time, she doesn't get underneath the blanket, only motions for Kara to sit down beside her again. But her knee knocks against Kara's, steady and shy, and she doesn't move it away.

And then they watch the rest of the movie.

.

.

.

For Jess's 28th birthday, she requests the presence of a few of her close friends and a fountain of tequila.

There isn't time for the latter, but Lena does bring an expensive bottle of liquor from Mexico and also allows Kara to be her plus one. Kara surmises that was probably Jess's way of pushing them together—by not inviting Kara, Lena has to bring her along. It's really very rude once she thinks about it.

"How's your sculpture coming?" Lena asks as they squeeze their way into the kitchen, barely audible over the pounding bass of music.

"It's, uh, coming." Kara can hear herself think at long last once they close the door behind them. "What do you want to drink?"

"Wine, if there is any." Lena takes a seat on the stool by the center island. "Can I ask how you got into art?"

"Sure, just"—Kara hefts a box of wine from a cabinet—"give me a sec."

Lena is clearly skeptical of the cheap wine, but she allows Kara to pour her a glass nonetheless. "It's always been unheard of in my family to pursue the arts," she says. "I was wondering what it was like, for you."

"I was one of the lucky ones—Eliza encouraged me," Kara says. For herself, she takes a bottle of Coke and clinks it against Lena's glass. "I could express myself in my art, so it became a vessel—and, I don't know, I fell in love with it. With how it can make me feel, really."

"Your mother sounds very nice," Lena says, politely, before she takes her first sip. "My mother wasn't keen on showing it, but she cared for me."

It's not exactly a glowing review. Kara, of course, does not say that aloud.

"But you had Lex," she says instead. "Right? And your dad?"

Lena slowly lowers her glass. "Yes," she says. "I always felt loved when my brother was there. No, I always felt safe." With a bittersweet smile, she continues, "And he hurt someone you love. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." Kara places her hand by Lena's; their pinkies brush, and neither moves away. "You're allowed to love him. I don't think you ever stopped, after everything. It just…hurt you a lot more to miss him."

"My life is insane," Lena sighs, but she's smirking as she takes another sip of wine. "Let's not talk about our families. Tell me—tell me your favorite color."

"Green," Kara immediately replies. "A green like your eyes."

"That is so cheesy." But the entire side of Lena's hand brushes up against Kara's and stays there, so Kara only smiles and asks,

"What's yours?"

"You should know," Lena says. "Don't you?"

"I do," Kara shrugs, "but where's the fun in a date being one-sided?"

"Oh, is this a date now?" Lena quirks an eyebrow. "Interesting. In that case, maybe you should buy me dinner before you steal me away in here."

"Hey, holing up in Jess's kitchen isn't a move—it's a necessity," Kara protests. "When she drinks enough tequila she will start puking on the dancefloor. It's inevitable."

"And so instead of witnessing it…we hide away from her at her own party?"

Kara raises her glass in a mock-toast. "To be fair," she says, "we're also the ones who have to take care of her after that happens."

"Having friends is dreadful," Lena decides, but one shared glance has both her and Kara cracking up. "Now you're making me feel bad! We have to go find her."

"Okay, okay," Kara says, downing the rest of her soda before Lena drags her away.

They reemerge among packed bodies hand in hand. Kara doesn't let go; Lena doesn't, either.

Jess is easy to spot, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her guitar in her lap. When she sees Lena she immediately bursts into tears and—much to everyone's bewilderment—falls right over.

"Jess? I'm going to get you up, okay?" Kara shouts over the music. "Can I carry you?"

A half-hearted thumb's up is her answer. Kara reluctantly drops Lena's hand and hoists Jess up into her arms; Lena is briefly surprised by the show of strength, but she says nothing about it.

"Whoo!" Jess shouts. The other partygoers whoop in agreement—they're too drunk to care.

Lena leans in to shout, "Should we take her to her room?" Her lips accidentally graze against the edge of Kara's ear, and Kara has to take a second to remember how to breathe.

Kara nods, wordlessly, and leads the way. Jess has to stop at the bathroom to vomit, and Kara dutifully pulls her hair back as Lena tries to find some water outside.

"How're you feeling?" Kara tries. Jess groans loudly in reply.

"Shit, Kara," she says, rubbing at her eyes and leaving her makeup smeared, "I'm a mess."

"I know," Kara says. She gives Jess's head a pat. "Don't worry, Lena will bring you some water."

"I want tea."

"I know," Kara says, again. She does—everytime Jess gets drunk there are two things she wants. One: her weight in green tea. Two: trashy reality TV. "But Lena can't use the stove right now."

"Why, 'cause she's drunk?"

"No, because I'm pretty sure someone is sitting on it," Kara says. "Here, can you stand up?"

Jess begrudgingly allows Kara to help her up off the floor. She even brushes her teeth once Kara puts the toothpaste on her toothbrush for her; Jess doesn't drink often, so when she gets trashed her entire body seemingly shuts down on itself. Usually Lena is the one in charge of taking care of Jess, but tonight Kara has to do it. She doesn't mind, but Jess looks less than pleased.

Lena comes back bearing two water bottles. "Hey, Jess. How are you feeling?" she questions, uncapping one bottle and passing it to her.

"Super," Jess deadpans. "Why are we here?" She cranes her neck past Kara, accidentally spilling about a fourth of her water over Kara's pants. "The party's outside."

"You're even drunker than usual this year," Kara notes, gently righting the bottle. "Do you want to lay down?"

Jess doesn't reply—she stares only at Lena, and then suddenly the tears are back. "You weren't here," she says. Her eyes are glassy now, tired, and she sinks into her bed with an exhausted slump. "You weren't here."

Lena casts a perplexed look at Kara. "I'm right here," she says.

"No, you weren't—this morning, you didn't come by." Jess rests her head against her pillow and when she speaks again, it's muffled. "You broke our tradition."

Kara remembers all at once that Lena always used to go to Jess's house first thing on her birthday, to have breakfast and mimosas because that was their thing. They'd gotten into the habit because Jess's parents lived so far away that Lena pretty much was all the family she had, and since then it's been one of the happiest Kara has ever seen both of them.

She feels so guilty for forgetting on Lena's behalf. "Jess," Kara says carefully, "you know it's because of the amnesia."

Jess only rolls over with a small, uncomfortable grunt. "Yeah, I know," she says, and this is the exact moment that Kara realizes Jess is not as okay as she thought.

Lena takes a tentative seat at the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry," she says. "If I'd known…"

"There's no way you would've known," Kara interjects firmly. "Jess knows that. She's just—drunk." But she's allowed to hurt, she thinks, just like everyone else.

"Either way." Lena dons a forlorn expression that Kara hates to witness. "I'm sorry, Jess. I ruined your birthday."

"You didn't," Kara protests, since Jess is already halfway to unconsciousness and isn't about to negate the statement herself. "Lena, it's not your fault."

"It's the truth though." Lena seems to have lost all spark of joy for the night, about as dejected and exhausted as Jess is. "I need some air. Can you—will you stay with her?"

"Yeah, of course." Kara slowly sits down. She waits about an hour, kept company only by Jess's even breathing and the shouts of the partygoers outside.

Lena never comes back.

.

.

.

The next month crawls by.

Kara completes one of the pieces for the hotel on 27th. She invites Alex and Eliza over for dinner to celebrate, but the one person she wishes would be proud of her isn't.

When she tells Lena, Lena merely nods at her and says, "That's nice, Kara," and continues strumming her guitar off-key.

She's been trying to relearn the instrument, but so far all it does is frustrate her. Most nights Kara will be watching TV and hear the melody of untuned guitar strings abruptly end before the piano starts up instead. This angry process is becoming a regular occurrence—and is all but consuming Lena slowly.

Eventually, the promise of dinner with new people seems to drag Lena out of her funk. She dresses up for the occasion (Kara had to talk her out of a ridiculously expensive dress), and helps Kara set up the table.

This domesticity is one of a string of moments that almost feel real. Moments where Kara gets to zip up Lena's dress, where she gets to brush an eyelash from her cheek, where she gets to brush hands with her as they set out cutlery—they keep Kara going. These moments mean everything.

"Does your mother like me?" Lena asks, quite suddenly. "Does she know me at all?"

"Eliza loves you," Kara assures her. "She's basically the mother you always wished you had. Er, not that Lillian isn't…well, she's your mother…" She trails off before she puts her foot in her mouth further.

"It's alright. I know my mother takes some getting used to." Lena takes a seat at the table. She fidgets. Then she stands up again. "Are you sure your mother won't mind that we didn't cook anything?"

"Trust me, she knows I love Chinese takeout," Kara says. "She won't mind that we ordered in."

"Right." More fidgeting. "Is it weird that I'm nervous?"

"Don't be. My family already knows you, and they adore you." Kara reaches for a bottle of wine nonetheless, knowing exactly how Lena managed her nerves the first time she met her family. "Do you want a glass of wine?"

"Yes, please," replies Lena quickly.

By the time Eliza comes knocking Lena is much more relaxed; two glasses of wine will do that to a person. But she is not yet tipsy enough to be sleepy and shy, so she greets Alex and Eliza cordially and even offers to take their coats. Their flat does not have a coat rack, but that doesn't dissuade her in the slightest.

"Lena, it is so good to see you." Eliza hugs Lena so tightly that her daughter-in-law startles. "Oh, we've missed you so much." She's nearly tearing up at the simple act of hugging Lena, but Lena just looks surprised.

"It's nice to have you back, Lena," Alex chimes in. "Or, uh, sort of back."

"Alex."

"Mom, it's the truth."

Kara coughs into her fist. "Hey!" she says brightly. "Who's up for some food?"

Conversation at the table is more awkward than Kara anticipated. Eliza asks Lena questions about her recovery—questions Lena doesn't tend to have positive answers to—and then when she tries to catch Lena up on everything going on in the lab at work, it merely confuses Lena further. Before, Lena used to love the science talk; some things just couldn't be replaced with music. But now, the mention of immunotherapy leaves Lena asking,

"Am I supposed to be consulting on the case?"

"No, no," Eliza says. "I just—love getting your opinion. I'm sorry, dear. I keep forgetting…" She doesn't finish her sentence. Lena looks slightly glad for that.

Alex takes over with minisculely better results. At least for Lena's mood, that is: "Kara tells us you've been visiting your brother. It must be nice, to reconnect with everyone."

Kara sends her a withering look. It does not, as she hoped, convey a message that says do not interrogate my amnesiac wife.

But Lena perks up. "Yes, it's kept me sane," she laughs lightly. "Kara's hospitality is unmatched, of course, but it makes me feel better to remember something."

"Right." Alex takes a slow sip out of her wine glass. "How is your brother these days? The last time I saw him was ages ago."

"Did you know Lex?" Lena asks.

"I knew him a little," Alex says. "I knew his actions more. He was…rather notorious around the office."

Lena deflates all over again. "I suppose that's because you're a detective," she says. "I'm sorry, for whatever he's done. I don't know any details, but it can't have been good."

Alex's eyes widen briefly in surprise. "That wasn't to accuse you," she says hastily. "I'm sorry, I assumed he told you. Or that Kara did."

"Kara has the idea that she wants to protect me from the truth," Lena scoffs, bitterly. She stares at Kara brazenly, as if daring her to contradict the statement. "I have to admit, it's tiring not to be trusted."

"That's not the reason," Kara insists weakly; she can feel Eliza and Alex looking at her, and she hates that they have to witness this. "You know I trust you more than anyone."

"It's one thing to say that, but another to prove it." Lena takes a gulp from her glass. It's the wine souring her mood, now; all the expectations and emotions hanging in the room must've been steadily driving her to drink. Kara hadn't even noticed.

"I don't want to fight, Lena." A lump forms in Kara's throat, unbidden, and she nearly chokes from the sensation. "You know I don't want to be the one to drive you away from your family. I've seen it happen before. It devastated you."

"And like I've said, Kara, if this was big enough to alienate me from my family once I think it's my right to know."

Kara sighs. "You'd hate me," she says grimly. "I know you would. You would resent me for telling you before you made up your mind on the matter."

"I don't give a fuck about what you think I would do." Lena turns cold, deadly, her stare as withering as her words. "How am I supposed to trust you when you keep lying to me?"

If only she knew. Kara knows how she must look—pale, guilty, slumped shoulders and thinned lips. Not the picture of reassurance.

"You're asking a lot from me," says Kara at last, as faint and wavering as she'd expected. "But I know why you don't want to turn to your brother."

"You don't—"

"I know you." Kara sucks in a sharp breath that splinters along her ribcage. "I know you keep asking me because you haven't made up your mind about me. You know that if the truth really does hurt you then it's me you can ignore in the aftermath. I know, Lena. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm selfish."

The harsh frown on Lena's face melts away. She says nothing for a few seconds.

And then, with a heavy kind of exhaustion: "I'm sorry I caused a scene. Excuse me."

She leaves before anyone can stop her. Kara—who easily could've—lets her go.

"Well." Alex gives a slow, admiring shake of her head. "This is worse than the time you lost your wedding ring in that cake."

Kara belatedly glances at her. At Eliza. Both of them gaze back at her sympathetically, but only Alex tries to lighten the atmosphere by offering a small smile.

Finally, after months of bottling her frustrations and trying to hold it together, Kara's resolve snaps right in half. "I hate this," she decides. "I hate everything about this."

"I know."

"You don't know, Alex. You don't know what any of this is like. You don't understand how much this is killing me." Kara doesn't realize she's gripping her wine glass until it shatters in her grasp, wet glass crumbling to powder between her fingertips. "I'm tired. I'm going to tell her the truth—everything. About me, about us, about Lex—"

"And then what?" Alex interrupts. As weighed down by all these secrets as she is, there isn't a trace of disappointment to be found in her voice. There is, however, that grim pessimism seeping through. "What happens when she starts asking questions? Like, 'why didn't you tell me you were an alien while we were married?' kind of questions."

"I'll tell her the truth: Kal-El asked me not to."

"But where does that leave you, Kara?" Alex asks. "She doesn't love you. And a secret like yours is big enough that it might drive her away from you."

"So what?" There is barbed wire forming a ball in her throat, sharp and biting and drawing blood. "I would rather lose her and be an honest person than be the person who takes advantage of her situation. She needs to make her choice," Kara says. "And when she gets her memories back, maybe she'll—"

"You don't know if she will get her memories back!" Alex's face is twisted in terrible pain. Pain that Kara has never seen on her sister's face before. Pain that makes her voice dry. Hoarse. "Don't do it, Kara. At least not until you're sure she's recovering."

"Isn't that what she's doing?" Barely a whisper. Kara is crying and she doesn't even remember starting to cry. "She's trying so hard."

"She might be trying to adapt to her old life, but is she recovering? I think she's as scared as you are," Alex says. "You have to help her with that."

"I don't know what to do." Admitting it helps, somewhat. Eliza reaches over the table and takes Kara's hand, unshed tears shining back at her.

"Let's start with giving her some space," Alex suggests. "How about you come sleep at my place tonight."

"Okay."

"And we can talk more about how you want to approach this."

"Okay."

"Hey." Now Alex takes her other hand. "I love you, dummy."

Kara exhales, even feels a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I love you too." A pause. "Dummy."

Eliza clicks her tongue. "Girls. Really?"

"It's our thing, mom," Alex says innocently.

"Yeah," Kara adds. "It's said with love."

"I raised two heathens," Eliza says, but the tears are fading at long last and so Kara counts that as a victory.

That night she leaves a note outside their bedroom door apologizing. She swears by her promise—to tell Lena the truth if Lex refuses to—and says she'll be at Alex's for the next few days. She also leaves Alex's address, but doesn't expect anything.

She hopes, though. She always hopes.