Hank wasn't happy about it, but he agreed. It wasn't exactly as if he could stand up to Cat Grant, let alone Cat Grant and Alex Danvers at the same time, anyway. At least, not without locking them up in the bunkers again, which would very likely be the last thing he ever did.
And so Cat was finally going to get to take Kara home. The DEO doctors were just doing one final check of the girl, while Alex was attaching the tracking device to the kryptonite cuff, and then they could leave.
Except that there was something that Cat needed to do first, because Clark was indeed still in the building, and she needed to see him before they left, before he left.
She waited until the doctors had backed out, because this time, when the people who weren't Alex or Cat had approached her, this time Kara had drawn back reflexively, and Cat wasn't about to leave her side, let alone remove her hand from Kara's arm, until everyone else was gone. Once the doctors finished, however, Cat pulled Alex aside, and, after a quick reassurance to Kara that she would be right back, Cat drew Alex out of the room.
"Where is he?"
Alex didn't need to ask who she meant, and Cat knew the building well enough by now that the simple directions she received from the other woman were more than enough.
"Stay with her, I'll be right back, and then we can go," Alex nodded, and made no move to stop Cat as the older woman grabbed her gun, pulled it from the holster at Alex's hip, and headed off down the hallway.
Two minutes later, Clark Kent found himself subject to the full wrath of a Cat Grant glare, which, even from across the room, as close as Cat would allow herself to get to the man, was still enough to make him take an involuntary step back.
"Stay away from her," she snarled, before raising the gun and emptying the entire clip into his chest. It wouldn't hurt him, of course, but Cat didn't care. She kept pulling the trigger even after the gun had stopped firing, holding his gaze until he was the one to look away. Until Clark fucking superhero Kent looked away from Cat Grant, admitting that he had been wrong.
She didn't stay after that, didn't say anything else, she didn't need to. Any additional attention would have been superfluous, it might have even undercut the impact of her rage. And so Cat just left him there, making it very clear that he wasn't worth any more of her time, and that he could wallow in the knowledge that he had messed up, without expecting any more consideration from her.
When she handed the gun back to Alex several minutes later, Alex didn't even bat an eye at the empty clip, she simply nodded coolly, and went about reloading her gun.
Cat felt her anger start to ebb away as she crossed to Kara, who was still sitting on the bed. She ran her hands through the girl's hair, and, applying slight pressure to her chin, she lifted Kara's face towards hers, before leaning down and planting a kiss on Kara's lips. It wasn't tender, not exactly, but the firm pressure gave something more, something tangible.
Pulling away, she looked into those blue eyes, letting the expression, the recognition in them, roll over her and push aside the rest of her anger. Her hand drifted down, closing over Kara's neck, fingers splayed so that she held the girl in her power, able to feel her pulse, her breath, her life. Cat focused on just feeling Kara though that grip, reassuring herself that Kara really was there, that she was really alive. Kara may have been back for a month, now, but Cat still needed to feel her. Cat still needed to hold on.
"I had something to take care of, Kara, but that's over now."
Kara closed her eyes and leaned forward slightly to increase the pressure at her throat, to increase the feel of Cat's hand holding her. Cat ran her other hand one more time through Kara's hair and down her face, before shifting to reach for the girl's hand. Stepping back, she pulled Kara from the table.
"Let's go home."
/
It had felt so strange, drawing away from the doctors as they did their final examination of her. When was the last time, the episode with her cousin aside, that she had drawn away from anyone?
She tried to remember it now, the last time she had felt enough to flinch away. But her head was buzzing, and she couldn't concentrate enough to remember.
Her mind was no longer muted, it wasn't clear, by any means, there was still so much to put back together, but she could feel again. And every little thing was sending a spike of raw emotion through her body, overwhelming her mind.
"If Cat wasn't here, if Cat wasn't touching us, would we be able to think right now?"
"No, if Cat wasn't touching us, we'd be screaming again."
And it was true. Each time someone came near her, held up a scanner, asked to touch her, each time these actions were accompanied by another jolt of fear, of panic. And, after so long not being able to feel, each moment felt like she was drowning under a torrent of emotion, a mental cacophony that was vibrating her mind apart. But Cat's hand was on her arm, and Kara remembered that grip. Kara remembered the two years of feeling that same hold on her body, and it gave her something to latch onto.
Remembering what Cat meant to her had been… it had been something that had almost destroyed her. The little flashes of memory that she had received up until this point had been a precursor, but nothing compared to the all-encompassing experience of understanding why Cat made her feel safe. Of understanding that she didn't just like being with Cat. Of understanding that she loved Cat, that she even knew what love was.
Because Cat had the ability to push back her darkness, and if that darkness was strong enough to drag her mind into chaos, what she felt for Cat, that was strong enough to rip her apart.
And yet, somehow, Cat's presence was still centering her.
"You're not making sense again."
"I know."
"I don't like it."
"Not making sense? Or loving Cat?"
"I'm not sure. How can she keep us stable, when it's so powerful, that remembering how to feel it completely overwhelms everything else about us?"
"Cat's a contradiction."
"Exactly, contradictions should naturally lead to more noise, more chaos."
"Maybe that's why it works for us, though."
"I don't understand."
"We're a contradiction, too. We argue all the time, and call ourselves an 'us,' but really, we're both 'I.'"
"So it works because of the cracks?"
"Yes. Everything about us is cracked right now. The other things, the fear, the pain, those spread the cracks. But Cat, Cat navigates them, Cat fills them in."
"So without the cracks, without somewhere to go, it would have been too much?"
"To feel all at once, yes."
"We have a lot of cracks."
"We do, but just cracks."
"Only cracks?"
"Yes. Because we promised Cat, remember? We promised Cat that no human could ever break us."
"I do. I remember that. I remember saying that. I remember meaning it."
It was dark by the time they were finally allowed to leave. Cat and Alex had apologized for that, as if it was their fault that the final examination had taken so long, as if she would be upset by the lack of sunlight, but Kara didn't care. They thought that she would want to see the sun, want to feel it on her skin, but they were wrong.
Kara was glad that it was dark, she didn't want to see the sun.
Objectively, she knew that there was a difference between the feeling of the real sun and artificial sunlight, but it was a minor thing, and not something that she could easily differentiate at her current power level. And so Kara was glad that she left the DEO to the moon and the starlight, because sunlight, right now, only meant one thing.
Sunlight meant that an experiment was starting, and that the scientists wanted to make sure that she had enough power to survive it.
The relief of walking out into a dark world was enough to get her back to Cat's apartment without crumbling under all the new stimuli around her. Alex was driving, and Cat was in the back with her, but even so, she spent most of the car ride with her body curled into a tight ball, eyes squeezed shut, and her hands over her ears, trying to shut out all the noise and lights of the city.
Cat didn't try to pull her out of it, this time, knowing that Kara was just adjusting to all the new sensations, rather than being consumed by them. And so Cat just let her feel, keeping in constant physical contact to provide a counterpoint to the stimuli of the city, but not attempting to distract Kara, or change her focus.
It was working, too. The tight grip in her hair, the hand that was absently tracing the patterns of her old scars through her clothes, the scars Cat had memorized all those months ago, they were just enough to hold her steady, to give her an anchor. It enabled her to reach out, grasp onto a sound, or smell, or those flashes of light that her closed eyelids couldn't quite block out, and begin to sort through the mass of information.
By the time they reached Cat's apartment Kara had managed to draw her hands away from her ears, and, for the last minute or so, she had actually opened her eyes and watched the lights of the passing cars.
And then they were at Cat's apartment, her apartment. That's what Cat had said, at least. It was her home now, too. She liked that, that she could think of this place as home. It wasn't the place itself, not really, it was the fact that it was Cat's home, that it was Cat's home, and Alex was going to be living with them for a while, and Carter would be coming back in a few days.
The location didn't matter, Kara was just glad not to be alone, not to be lost in her cell, anymore.
"But we miss our cell." "Do we?"
/
Cat didn't sleep that night. It was a Friday and she didn't need to be anywhere the next day, but even if it had been another day, she still wouldn't have slept.
Because Kara could finally feel enough to dream again, and Cat needed to be awake for that.
Alex obviously had had the same thought, and after the third time Alex had peaked into the room, Cat had just waved her over, so that when Kara did start to pull away, when the nightmares came, both of them would be there to wake her up.
It worried her, worried both of them, the thought that if they fell asleep they might not wake up when Kara needed them. She had always woken up to Kara's nightmares before because of the pained sounds that the girl would make. But Kara wouldn't be making those sounds anymore, and Cat was afraid that Kara would be lost in her memories, and Cat wouldn't wake up to save her.
She needn't have worried, however, because when the nightmares did come, there was no way that Cat could have slept through them. Kara's old nightmares, the ones that Cat had been there for, at least, had often caused the girl to pull away, but in such a manner that it wasn't apparent, until Cat woke up, that the girl had left her side. Now, however, while Kara's limbs remained motionless, the restraints in her dreams holding power over her physical form, the rest of her body reacted so violently, and so suddenly, that Cat was almost knocked from the bed.
From one heartbeat to the next, a peaceful, relaxed Kara, transformed into a mass of painful energy as her body lurched away from Cat, her back arching even as her mouth opened in a silent scream. A scream that kept on going.
Because Kara wouldn't wake up.
Cat had been worried about not waking up herself, but it was Kara, Kara who wouldn't come back to reality. The memories were still too fresh, too real, and so the feeling of Cat and Alex's hands on her skin melted into the dream hands of the scientists.
Would it be easier? Cat wondered as she desperately called Kara's name. Would it be easier if she could hear Kara's screams?
As wrong as that sounded, there was something about it that would almost have made this more real, made it something that she could figure out how to deal with. But the silent screams, they cut Kara off, there was no sound to transverse the realm between Kara's mind and reality. Nothing that Cat could hold onto, nothing that could make Cat feel as if she was there with Kara. Because Kara was stuck completely inside her head, and not even her voice could escape.
It took nearly five minutes to draw her out, five minutes of watching Kara scream. But finally, finally she responded to their efforts. And this time, when Cat was faced with the terror in Kara's eyes in those first few moments before Kara recognized her, Cat felt only relief. She could handle a few seconds of Kara being afraid of her, as long as Kara just woke up and stopped those terrible, heart wrenching, silent screams.
Cat could handle anything Kara threw at her, as long as she would just stop screaming, as long as Cat didn't have to watch her relive those past ten months, anymore.
The next week flew by in a haze of exhaustion. After that first evening Cat and Alex didn't try to stay awake all night again, they physically couldn't, but even so, they were all waking up every night, and staying awake for at least an hour, normally more. Alex returned to her own room after three nights, but the doors remained open, and Cat would always call out for her as soon as Kara's nightmares began.
And Kara… Kara's smile had disappeared again. She would try to smile for them, Cat knew, but Cat could tell the difference.
Part of her was even glad that the smiles had stopped, because those smiles, the ones Kara had given her over the past month, each one had been just a mirage. They had meant something, meant that her Kara was still inside, and for that Cat had been grateful, but they had also been innocent, lacking any true understanding or weight. Kara had smiled at Cat because she had been happy in the way that a young child could be happy, a way that existed regardless of the world or anything outside of a single moment.
It had given Cat hope, especially when those smiles had started to reach Kara's eyes, but even then, Cat had known that they were born by limited emotions, limited means. Now Kara had stopped smiling like that because she had lost that innocence, that ability to feel only one thing at a time. Now Kara's nightmares were back, and she couldn't be simply happy anymore, but at least, at least Cat knew that the next time Kara smiled, and not the mechanical attempts she was trying to pull now, but the next time Kara truly smiled, it would be real.
As Cat waited for Kara's real smile to come back, she struggled to comprehend the way Kara's mind worked now. Kara would do things, things Cat didn't understand, but wouldn't try to interrupt, knowing that Kara was still trying to figure things out, to put her mind back in order.
Cat had come home one day after work to find that Kara had pulled every single bowl out of her kitchen cabinets. Kara was sitting on the floor with the bowls spread out around her in a circle, and, as Cat watched, Kara picked up each one in turn, examining it closely, before setting it down again in a clear sign of rejection. Whatever bowl Kara was looking for, however, wasn't there, but Kara just kept looking anyway, picking up the same ones over and over again.
She had tried to ask Kara what she was looking for, but Kara had only shaken her head, and kept on going.
Another time Cat had tried to get Kara to come out onto the balcony with her, to feel the sunlight. Kara had backed away so quickly that Cat had actually started to worry that she had hurt the younger woman in some way. That was how she found out that Kara didn't like the sun anymore, that all those times she had done her work out on the balcony at CatCo, just to see Kara enjoy the atmosphere, all those moments had been tainted by harsher memories.
And Kara couldn't tell her why. Cat knew why, of course, but she still wished that Kara would tell her anyway.
It was hard getting answers from her. They had tried giving her pens and paper, but Kara never moved to pick them up. Cat had taken to leaving notepads around, so that from almost anywhere in the apartment you could find a writing implement within a few seconds. Even if Kara wasn't showing any interest in such communication now, she wanted to make sure that if something did come to her, that the girl would be able to write it down before the mood passed.
Things continued that way for the first week. Kara was home now, but there was still so much of her that was missing. Cat could feel it in her chest, the pain, the longing, the need for the other woman. There were so many little details about Kara that were just slightly out of place. And Cat, Cat could run a media empire, Cat could raise a wonderful son, Cat could hold Kara through her nightmares, but Cat couldn't erase that pain, not completely. But, of course, she was still Cat Grant, and Kara was still her Kara, and Cat was never going to give up.
The first breakthrough didn't come until the end of that first week.
Cat came home early, Carter was expected back the next day, and she wanted to get some things ready, but when she got home, Kara didn't greet her at the door. She felt her heart rate spike, fuelled by a sudden, initial stab of fear, worry that Kara was missing, but she pushed it aside. She constantly monitored the tracking device every time she was away, and she knew Kara was still in the apartment.
Cat had felt a little strange about that, at first, the idea of putting a tracking device on Kara, but after that first day away, when both she and Alex had left for work, she had had to admit that she was glad that the device was there. Kara wasn't supposed to leave the apartment, but just in case she did, whether on her own, or because someone else was trying to make her, that little red dot would let Cat know. And Cat never would have made it through a full day, let alone an hour, even, without that blinking light on her phone telling her that Kara was still at home, still safe, still, not missing.
And so instead of giving into the panic that rose up the moment Kara wasn't at the door, Cat took several deep, calming breaths, and started walking through the apartment, looking for the girl. She had to struggle to keep her pace even, her breathing normal, especially as she moved deeper into the building, and still came up empty. This walk reminded her so much of that day she had come home from Metropolis to find Alex in her apartment, of her search for Kara, of her continued assertion that Kara had to be somewhere, and of how hard she had tried to ignore the sound of Alex calling her name.
Despite her attempts to remain calm, however, the urge to panic was just so strong, and she felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She needed to find Kara. She needed to see her, touch her. She just, she just needed Kara.
Only when she heard the shower running, coming from the bathroom that adjourned their bedroom, only then did the tightness in her chest begin to lessen, but it refused to fade completely until she opened the door and saw Kara, saw that Kara wasn't gone.
The relief at finding Kara still there, however, quickly gave way to concern as she took in the situation. Kara was standing in the shower, fully clothed, not moving. She didn't even raise her head to give any indication that she was aware of Cat's presence.
When Cat drew closer she noticed that the hot water was turned all the way up, but when she reached out a hand to touch Kara, the water she encountered was ice cold. And Kara still hadn't moved.
Shutting off the water, Cat had taken the girl's hand then, thankful that at least Kara was allowing herself to be pulled out of the shower and into the bedroom, even if she continued to stare blankly, her movement more a lack of resistance, than actual compliance.
Cat moved slowly, stripping away the damp clothes, letting them fall to the floor as her eyes moved across Kara's form. This was the first time she was really seeing Kara, seeing the new scars. It wasn't that she hadn't seen them, yet, but when Kara had first come back, she had followed directions to change, but done it in such a methodical, steady manner, that Cat hadn't really had a chance to absorb the changes. And, after Kara had started to change on her own, without being given direction, her changes had sped up, and she had adjusted her movements to keep as much of herself covered as possible.
But now, now Kara was just standing there, letting Cat remove her clothes, letting Cat see.
As the last item of clothing fell to the floor, Kara finally looked at her, and Cat could see the pain in her eyes. Cat met that gaze, and then, instead of moving to hand Kara dry clothes, she reached out to touch her instead, breaking the eye contact to take in, to really see for the first time, what they had done to her.
She started with the old scars, moving her hands over them, tracing the familiar patterns, noticing which ones were darker now, which ones had been opened up again. When she was done with those, then, and only then, did she move on to the new ones, committing each fresh mark to memory.
There were so many of them, so many old scars that had become darker, so many new scars that she hadn't seen before.
There was one scar she couldn't reach, couldn't see, but she knew it was there, under the cuff on Kara's right wrist. She remembered it from when she had held Kara, that first day, when the restraint was still on her leg. She wished she could see it again, trace it like she was the others, even as she also hated the fact that she could guess what had caused it.
She wanted to feel angry, in this moment, and she vaguely remembered that first time, more than a year ago, that first time she had seen Kara's body. She had been so angry, even if she had hidden it, but now, now although she still had that anger, and she knew it would hit her later, right now she didn't have room in her mind to concentrate on that anger.
Cat was so focused on Kara, on learning each new mark, that she wasn't even processing them as scars. Cat was simply seeing Kara, seeing the changes, and accepting them, helping Kara to accept them.
When she was finally done she stepped in close, pulling Kara into her body and wrapping her arms around the younger woman. Kara made no move to respond, but she didn't try to back away, or end the embrace, the only sign that she was even present in the moment coming when the girl lowered her head, resting her forehead against Cat's shoulder.
They stood like that for a while, just being there together. It didn't matter that Kara was still naked, that Cat was still clothed. They just needed to feel each other, for Kara to feel something against her body that wasn't pain, for Cat to feel Kara's body pressed protectively, securely, against her own.
When Cat finally pulled away, reaching up to brush the damp hair out of Kara's face, when she looked at Kara this time, there was an almost smile on her face, and Cat knew that something had changed. It was small, perhaps, but she wondered, now, how many days had Kara done that, how many days Kara had stood in the shower, fully clothed, for hours, while she and Alex were away at work. But Cat's touch, her slow, meticulous exploration, had done something that the water could never do. The water could never wash away those scars, but Cat, Cat could help Kara reclaim them.
Meeting Kara's eyes, Cat took several moments to make sure that the girl was there, was present, and not off in her mind somewhere. Cat had gotten better, over the past weeks, at telling when Kara was paying attention and when she was somewhere else. And now, seeing the clear gaze that assured her that Kara was fully focused on her, Cat finally spoke.
"I love you, Kara Zor-El."
She had waited so long to say that, to say those words. For months after Kara had disappeared she had continued to practice the alien tongue. She had said it to herself so many times by now, that there was no longer any residual strangeness about the language.
Kara's eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly, and her gaze shifted to stare at Cat's lips, almost as if she was questioning whether or not she had actually heard those words, spoken in her native language.
"I love you, Kara."
Cat spoke again, repeating the phrase, even as her hands tightened their hold on the girl in her arms.
Kara tried then, really tried. Cat could see her focusing, her mouth moving, saying Cat's name, but no sound came out. After several attempts, Cat shifted her hand, moving to brush her fingers over the scar on Kara's throat.
"Kara, it's ok, please, it's ok."
It wasn't that she didn't want Kara to try to speak, she did, she wanted to be able to hear Kara's voice saying those same words back to her. But Kara was getting lost again, retreating into herself as she struggled to respond, and Cat didn't want that.
Kara tried one more time, but Cat leaned in, kissing the name off Kara's lips, even as her thumb retraced the scar, soothing away the mark.
"It's ok, Kara," she spoke again, "I know, it's ok."
Kara's hands finally moved, they had been hanging limply at her side all this time, but now they came up, gripping Cat's shirt, holding on as her eyes tried to express how much those words had meant to her, and how much it hurt that she couldn't say them back.
Kara didn't need to speak though, Cat knew, and that was enough. Just knowing would be enough for an eternity, even if Kara never got her voice back, even if Cat never got the chance to hear her say it. Cat could read so much about the girl from her face, her body, her eyes, she didn't need sound to understand.
"I thought I would bake some cookies, for when Carter comes home tomorrow. Do you want to help? I bought extra supplies so you can eat all the cookie dough you want," she said then, knowing that it was time to move on. That was something else she had learned. Let Kara do one thing for too long, and, no matter how engaged she appeared to be, no matter how much she wanted to stay present, her mind would eventually drift off anyway.
But they could move on now, because something had changed.
That evening was the first time that Kara reached for a pen and paper. And, when she handed it to Cat, that first scrap, it had held just one symbol, a hieroglyph that Cat didn't recognize as anything from Earth. When she asked Kara what it meant, Kara simply pointed to her.
"Cat, it means Cat."
/
"We couldn't say it."
"I know, we tried."
"And we still couldn't tell her." "She knows, though."
"We could have written it down, why didn't we write it down? All we wrote was her name, and even that was just an approximation."
"You know why. We had to write her name first. It's what we always did, to test out our voice. We always said Cat's name to see if we could speak or not."
"But we weren't speaking. We couldn't tell her. Why didn't you write it down?"
"Because we want to tell her, you know we do. But we want her to hear it."
"Why does it matter?"
"It does. It just does."
"Why?"
"She learned Kryptonian."
"I know."
"She deserves better than we can give her."
"I know."
Kara wanted to tell Cat, she had tried so hard, really tried to speak for the first time in months, and still, still she had failed. Kara wanted to finish that aborted phone message, she didn't want the last thing Cat would ever hear her say to be stuttered words, a short, broken phrase swallowed up by static.
Because it was important.
It was important that Cat, who was sacrificing so much for her, who had given her so much, it was important that Cat should have everything from Kara.
Kara wanted to tell Cat that she loved her, in her own voice, so that Cat knew that Kara wasn't hiding from her, wasn't holding anything back. So that Cat knew that Kara had kept her promise not to break.
She tried to stay awake that night, it was the only thing she could do, the only thing she had to offer at the moment. If she stayed awake, Cat could have one full night of sleep, and Kara wanted that, wanted Cat to be at peace.
She almost managed it, too, but she was just so tired now, all the time. Her exhaustion wasn't caused by the restraint on her wrist alone, no, there was the added stress of not exposing herself to any sunlight. The fact that she continued to stay in the shadows meant that she didn't even have the same level of energy as an average, adult human anymore, but still, she tried. She tried to stay awake for Cat
Kara made it until 4:30am, and then she fell asleep and the nightmares came for her again.
"We couldn't even give Cat one night."
"I know."
"We should have tried harder."
"I know."
"We need to do better."
"I know. Carter is coming home. We need to do better for Cat, and Alex, and Carter."
Kara had been so worried about that, about Carter seeing her, about her disappointing him, but he took that away. How was he able to take that away, so easily?
In that first moment, when he had rushed past his mom, ignoring her open arms, to hug Kara, she had felt her worry disappear. Carter wasn't apprehensive when he approached her, no, he ran at her, launching himself into her and knocking her over, because she no longer had super strength to withstand the onslaught, and he had grown so much over the past year.
And then he was talking, a constant stream even as he just grinned down at her surprised expression, talking about anything and everything, telling her about all the things she had missed.
Carter didn't care that she didn't say anything back, or that she would spend long passages of time drifting off in her mind, he only cared about her being home, and about all the new games they could play, because Alex was too good at them, and he needed someone he could beat again.
Carter was the reason why she started being able to go for longer and longer periods of time without losing focus. He would sit with her, still talking, for hours at a time. He never used to talk that much, but he did now. He would notice as soon as she stopped paying attention, and, instead of reaching for her and shaking her, he would just suddenly shift topics. It was a tactic that worked amazingly well because he was able to catch her just as her mind started to drift, as she lost the thread of his words and began to talk internally to herself. The sudden topic change would not go unnoticed by what was left of her attention, jarring her, refocusing her. Over the next few weeks Carter slowly began to retrain her mind, to teach her what it was to have only one voice, again.
And Carter was also the reason that she remembered how to like the sun, that she remembered why she liked the sun.
It was so familiar, she knew it was, that desire to join Carter, to do whatever he asked of her. It was like that day with the fort, except that now, now, Carter was asking her to help him with an art project.
He needed to paint the view from his house, and instead of working from a window, he decided that it was absolutely imperative that he stand out on the balcony. And, more than that, he was completely insistent that the project required a midday sun.
The problem was, however, that Carter reportedly had no idea how to mix paints to get the desired shades. And so he had asked Kara to help, because Kara had excellent eyesight, and Kara could tell exactly what colors needed to be mixed to capture the picture. Kara had tried to do it from inside, staying in her comfortable shadows, but it didn't work. Carter didn't push her, he just waited for her to come to the natural conclusion that in order to help him, she needed to step outside.
That first step had been so hard, but Carter had been grinning at her, paint in hand, blank canvas ready, and she had had to go. Because Carter was waiting, and because Carter had asked.
And then…
And then she had been in the sunlight, for the first time in weeks, months, if you didn't count those few seconds during her initial rescue while she was in her near comatose state. And the sunlight, it hadn't been… it hadn't been terrible.
She had stood on the balcony, mixing paints for Carter, and noticing that, despite his assertion of his inability to do it himself, he somehow always managed to hand her just the right base paints for whatever she was trying to achieve. He didn't need her help, not really, but even so she hadn't wanted to back away.
Kara was in the sunlight. Kara was in the sunlight with Carter. Kara was in the sunlight with Carter, and she wasn't afraid.
Kara wasn't afraid of the sun.
As the sun started to fade, hours later, Kara was still there with Carter, still watching him paint. But things were quiet now, where normally he kept talking to keep her focused, now, now he let her think, let her absorb the change.
"Are you still there?"
"… yes."
"We don't talk as much, anymore."
"I know."
"Do you miss it?"
"…"
"Do you?"
"Carter," Cat had joined them outside, "I need to borrow Kara for a bit, you'll have to finish up by yourself."
Carter nodded, and Kara let Cat pull her away. As soon at Cat touched her, however, she noticed the difference. Her skin was practically humming, the nerve endings awakened by the sunlight, and when Cat touched her, she could feel the pressure, the strength, the intent, and it was far more intense than anything she could remember from the past weeks.
Kara stopped just inside the doors, her hand closing over Cat's arm, keeping her there. Reaching out, she traced the confused look on the older woman's face, concentrating, exploring, feeling how her fingertips came alive at the contact.
This, this was why she used to like the sun. It was more than just the power it gave her, more than the energy. The sun enabled her to feel Cat like this, to sense everything about her. And touching Cat now, Kara remembered why the sun was beautiful.
She had gotten better at smiling, and meaning it, in the weeks since Cat had spoken those words to her, but now, now she was finally ready. Her fingers running over Cat's face, her neck, her arms, tracing every bit of uncovered skin she could find, Kara smiled, and for the first time in over a year, she truly meant it. And Cat knew, Cat could tell the difference. Cat smiled back.
"We found him, we found General Lane. He's on his way back to National City," Alex's voice interrupted them. The moment was over.
/
Cat was not happy about this plan, not happy about the fact that Kara had volunteered herself as bait.
How had she come this far? Kara, her Kara, who was still screaming soundlessly every night, who would still get lost in her own mind, Kara who had just gone out in the sun for the first time a few days ago, how had this Kara been the one to volunteer?
Because it was Kara, and Kara would always volunteer.
Alex had found General Lane. The man was coming out of hiding and returning to National City to make his move. General Lane still wanted his project finished, and he still wanted Kara, but he knew he wouldn't be able to fake her death for a second time, and so he was planning a frontal assault instead. Grab Kara, disappear, and build his super soldier while the DEO searched.
It was the frontal assault, Cat knew, that's what had gotten to her, gotten to Kara. Because, even after everything, Kara was still Supergirl, and Kara still wanted to protect people. And so Kara had volunteered because a frontal assault, that would get people killed. Especially if she continued to stay in the apartment, if she continued to hide in a place surrounded by civilians, a place that Carter called home.
And Kara was still strong. Kara would not put others at risk.
Which was why they were here now, several days later, standing on the roof of CatCo. It had seemed a strange idea, at first, as if General Lane would believe that they were conveniently in an open location, but after awhile, Cat had seen the logic in the decision.
It would appear as if Cat was taking Kara around CatCo to re-familiarize her with the building. But the roof? Cat knew that tactically, the roof was the best position. It had plenty of small utility huts for the DEO, specifically Alex and Hank, to hide themselves behind, and it was also in view of the surrounding buildings, enabling the use of snipers, or the emergency helicopter that was on standby on the next building over.
But tactics aside, the roof seemed a strange place to go, a strange destination for the two of them. Except for the fact that Kara had been a superhero, was a superhero, Cat reminded herself, and Kara could fly. It wasn't inconceivable that Cat and Kara would go up to the roof, considering all the memories Kara must have of taking off from this location, of jumping from the building and leaping into the sky, of being free.
And General Lane… they had leaked the information to General Lane, the fact that Kara would be leaving the apartment alone with Cat. Sure, there were the expected DEO agents, but they were meant to stay outside the building, just as they did at Cat's apartment. And so General Lane, when he came, would come with only a small tactical force, not expecting that the entire building was under the strict surveillance of the DEO.
"Kara, let me see your wrist," Alex's voice called Cat's attention, and she watched as the woman deftly unlocked the kryptonite restraint and replaced it with another one, a fake one, before moving off to her hidden position in the shadows. None of their intelligence had suggested that General Lane had gained a new source of kryptonite, and they were hoping that he would be relying on the fact that Kara was supposedly still restrained. Removing the cuff now would give them an extra edge. And Cat wasn't about to let Kara dangle herself as bait, at least not without her powers to back her up.
"Not that they helped her, last time," but Cat shut up the voice. This wasn't last time, this time, Kara wasn't alone. This time, Cat was with her.
Kara had tried to resist that, resist Cat's insistence that she needed to be there, but eventually, Kara had given in. Because there was no way that Cat wasn't going to be there, and Kara, for all that she had volunteered for this, was still terrified of facing General Lane alone.
Not that he was supposed to make it this far. Ideally, his team would be trapped as they made their way through the building, and the four of them on the roof would just be left waiting until the all-clear came through. But Cat wasn't about to risk leaving Kara alone, Alex and Hank excluded, for 'ideally.'
Kara was staring at the fake restraint now, and Cat realized that Kara hadn't felt her powers in a long time. Closing the distance between them, Cat reached out and lifted Kara's hand with her own, bringing their palms flush, before slowly beginning to increase the pressure, pushing against Kara's hand.
Kara's hand gave, at first, but as Cat kept pushing, kept increasing the amount of force ever so slightly, Kara realized what Cat was doing. Cat felt it, the moment it clicked in Kara's brain. One second, Cat was pushing against a soft hand, feeling the familiar give of any human body, and the next… the next she was pushing against a solid wall. It was different than just trying to move someone stronger, because Kara wasn't just stronger, Kara was beyond stronger.
It was a simple thing, this motion, this assessment of Kara's strength. Before this had all happened, Kara would have just slipped in between her strength levels without realizing it, but now Kara needed to remember. And even though Cat knew that the pressure from her hand would barely register to the girl, it still provided just enough of a stimulus to let Kara adjust, let her feel, let her become aware of how truly powerful she was, once again.
"He's here," Hank's voice called out, and Kara's head swung around to stare at the floor of the roof, or through it, actually, her eyes focusing on the movements of the man who was coming for her.
And now, now Cat felt it, her anger, that anger that she had side-stepped during her exploration of Kara's scars. Cat felt it because as soon as Kara's eyes filtered through the various floors, the walls, and whatever else was in-between her and that man, as soon as Kara's eyes found him, she trembled. And Cat felt her tremble.
Kara, her Kara, this strong, beautiful woman, this woman who could turn herself into a solid wall of power, this woman who was terrified, but had come here anyway because she didn't want to put Carter in danger, this woman should not tremble. Not for General Lane. Not for anyone.
Cat wanted to hunt down the man, to watch him suffer, watch him realize his own mortality. Cat wanted to rip him apart. But first, first she had to take care of Kara, because whatever else, however great her rage, Kara came first, she would always come first.
Cat reached for Kara's face, trying to turn it back to her, but Kara didn't move, Kara probably didn't even feel her. And so Cat changed tactics, she dug her nails into the scar at Kara's neck even as she stepped into the girl's line of sight, so that, as the sensation drew Kara's vision back, Kara's eyes snapped to her, and only her.
"Kara," she knew the anger in her voice was clear, barely controlled, but she didn't care. Kara would know that the anger wasn't directed at her.
"Kara," she said again, "look at me, look only at me."
She kept her hand pressed there, over the exposed scar, the only exposed scar, Kara was still covering herself as much as possible when she picked out her clothes. She held the contact, increasing the pressure each time Kara's eyes flicked away, each time Cat felt another tremor of fear. Cat held the contact, not allowing Kara to focus on anything else.
Even so, she knew General Lane was getting closer, because, even without looking, Kara could tell. As Kara's breathing began to speed up, Cat added another hand, this time intertwining her fingers in Kara's hair and applying slight downward pressure, enough to tell the girl what she wanted. She kept her hold as Kara sank to her knees in front of her, allowing Cat to move in even closer, to tilt Kara's face up to hers.
In this position, Kara looked so vulnerable, but her eyes had cleared, her focus sharpening. Because now, now Kara was vulnerable, but to Cat, only to Cat. Cat's control over her, Cat's claim, pushed back against the chaos. General Lane couldn't have her again, because Cat had her, and Cat wasn't letting go.
"Just me," Cat whispered, and Kara nodded.
Vaguely, Cat was aware of the other things happening around them, of the fact that Hank was saying that there was a problem, that he was leaving the roof because General Lane was avoiding capture, but she didn't care. Cat just kept staring at her Kara, holding her, waiting for either Alex to come get them, or for General Lane himself to appear.
And Cat hoped that General Lane would appear, wished that he would come, because Cat wanted to destroy him, personally.
Kara's breath hitched, and Cat almost smiled, because that small movement told her that she had gotten her wish. Looking up, Cat's eyes met those of the man in question. He was bleeding from a bullet wound in his shoulder, his men were all gone, captured or dead, and Hank had left the roof. Hank wasn't around to stop her, to stop anyone.
He was pointing a gun at her, madness in his eyes. He knew he had lost, but his pride wouldn't allow him to back down. And Cat was so very glad that he was here. Cat was going to break him, even as he had tried to break Kara.
"Hello, Subject 0."
His first mistake had been taking Kara, but his last mistake, his last was going to be those words. He expected them to make the girl freeze, or to make her fall away in fear, but he was so wrong. Because Cat had given Kara back her name, and Cat knew that Kara would fight with everything she had to keep it, to not let go of it again.
And so, instead of shrinking away at those words, instead Kara reacted, her strength and speed kicking in as she moved from Cat's side, as her hand closed around General Lane's throat, as she continued forward, unable to stop her momentum for another few steps, still unused to the new power.
Cat watched in satisfaction as his eyes widened, his gun dropping to the ground as his hands came up to claw at the grip around his neck. Cat watched as he tried to speak, but could only make guttural sounds.
"Kara, wait."
Even here, even now, Kara listened, and Cat's satisfaction grew as she took in General Lane's surprise, as the man realized that he had held Kara for ten months, and hadn't broken her. As he realized that Cat, Cat had only just gotten her back, but Kara was still strong enough to choose Cat, over her fear.
Cat moved closer, and his surprise was turning into relief. He was expecting her to save him, out of some foolish notion that she might be opposed to ending his life. That relief vanished, however, the moment she drew a long knife out from where it had been hidden in her sleeve, and Cat had her first, gratifying taste, of his fear.
As she moved towards him, feeling the solid weight of the knife in her hand, she knew it wasn't just her rage driving her. Because she had prepared this, just in case, just in case General Lane made it this far. Cat Grant had come here prepared to kill a man.
It was a thought that should make her cringe, but she couldn't find it in herself to do so. When had she become so dark, she wondered absently, when had the idea of hurting someone, of killing someone, started to seem so normal? But no, she knew that was the wrong question. She hadn't gotten any darker, hadn't been twisted, been warped by the events of the last year.
No. Cat Grant was who she had always been, possessive, protective, unstoppable. And Cat Grant would do anything to make sure that this man never had the opportunity to touch her Kara again. Cat Grant was going to kill him, and she was never going to feel bad about it, ever.
Now his eyes were moving to Alex, who had stepped out of the shadows. He tried to reach for her, to give a command. He was still a general, and he expected people like Alex to follow his orders. But Alex only stared back, impassive and without any intent to interfere.
And then Cat was there, was close enough to touch him. She paused only long enough to reattach one hand to Kara's hair, and then, with the other, she took the knife and pierced his skin, angling the blade upward and feeling it slide in as she found a gap between his ribs. And it was so much better than shooting Superman.
Cat smiled darkly at General Lane, watching him as his eyes bulged in pain, as he let out a choked cry, as blood trickled from his mouth. Cat watched him suffer, before turning away, turning her attention fully back to Kara.
"Kara," as she spoke she used her grip in Kara's hair to turn the girl's head, "remember what I said. Look at me, only at me."
Kara looked scared, looked angry, looked like she was fighting against the chaos, but even so, it was still Kara who looked back at her now. Kara and not a shadow, it was her Kara who was winning the fight.
"It's ok now, Kara. He doesn't matter anymore. You can let go now," and, pulling her other hand away from the knife so that she could trace the edge of Kara's face she continued, "just let go."
And Kara did.
As General Lane plummeted from where he had been dangling, held over the edge of the roof by Kara's grasp alone, Cat couldn't help but make a second wish, hoping that it would come true. And why not? She had gotten her first wish tonight, that he would appear, so why shouldn't she get this one?
"I hope the knife wound kills him before the fall does."