Part X: By Moonlight
Kara's jaw dropped, in horror. Her eyes, I can see it there, the light was gone for a moment. When she said that. Her light dimmed. Lena was still chuckling, though Kara could see through the CEO's hollow trauma-suppressing smile.
My father was the Director of the Science Guild… he is responsible for Lena being a 'genetic cocktail'? Why, how? How did I ever think my parents were good?
Kara's eyes began to water.
Watching Lena's deflection of her past was just hollowing. "Lena, what do you mean by that?" Kara's voice was demure. As if she was expecting Lena's words to wound her.
"Kara, I'm fine. I'm over it. Why are you so–,"
Kara's tears blurred her vision as she almost made a horrible confession. The tears alone were enough to stop Lena. "Kara, what's wrong?" Lena asked, her tone switching from flippant to worried on a dime. "Hey, it's alright. Kara." Lena got out of her seat and walked over to Kara, bringing her into a hug. "What's…" Lena let out a sigh and held Kara to her closely. While she was very much sexually awakened by their proximity, pushing those feelings was made easy when she took a glance at Kara's utterly broken expression. Kara needs me. My lust and affection will just have to wait a little longer; it's really that simple.
Lena quickly realised that no matter how she may phrase her questions, the beautiful girl in her arms would only speak on her own terms. Though Lena couldn't see it, since her face was partially–gloriously–burrowed into dirty blonde hair, Kara's face went through a rapid progression of expressions. Pain, guilt, sadness, but the one she chose to settle on was pride. Pride, that the girl who was now giving her comfort despite downplaying a horrific childhood, the kind that should only be reserved for tragic backstories in stories, and all of it at the hands of Kara's own father. Maybe he didn't know….No. He ran the Guild.
He knew. He hurt Lena, as a CHILD.
And that was the thought that started the sobbing. It wasn't the cute sniffling like in the romantic comedies, or even some dramas. Kara was full-out ugly crying into Lena's shoulder.
Lena just held her. There was really not much else to do. They stayed like that for a while, illuminated in the moonlight shining through the foggy window.
Maggie Sawyer had questions. She had just received a solemn pat on the shoulder from her friend Torres after Maggie had returned from taking on the burden of informing the family of one of the boys who died during that day's attack at the overpass. Maggie glanced at the clock and looked back down at her phone.
'Margaret, I'm sorry I'm just done. Done with you. You've made your choice, and you chose work. And while I'm talking about it, I saw you with that auburn slut. The way she looked at you bothered me, but the way you returned her fucking heart eyes made me sick. I almost couldn't kiss you that night at all. You were able to look at her like that and then try to go down on me not an hour later? You're a fucking sociopath Margaret, and I'm sorry I'm doing this over an email, but I can't even look at you anymore. You might as well be fucking that red-haired Fed whore for all you've done to our relationship. Goodbye Margaret, I thought you were the one. Never have I been so wrong in my life.
-your ex-fiancée
It had been more than a week, and Maggie had looked at that message every day. After a precursory search, she found that her ex-fiancée had moved back to Central City. Sociopath. There was a ton of things Maggie had become used to being called; Blue Springs had less than five hundred people, and one out lesbian. Of course she'd been called all sorts of things related to her sexuality. But sociopath was crossing a new bridge, a poorly constructed bridge that screamed danger. It was a word that tore into her. It was at least a decade since she had been even the slightest bit ashamed of loving women. Her Sapphic alignment was untouchable, so the things that she was called back home might as well be bullets, and she was Supergirl.
Attacks on her as a human, for her choices. For her choices where Alex was concerned. That shit stung.
On the way home in the incomplete dark, she saw a figure flying through the air at low altitude, a woman, judging by the hair flying behind her. Notably dark hair, so it's not Supergirl. Well, I hope she's having a better night than me. She noted the flying woman was also wearing what looked like sweatpants with cartoon characters faces on them, and she was heading vaguely in the direction of where she knew both Danvers lived. Being a detective was not something she could just turn off after all.