Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter and left comments. I know it was a bit heavy, so thanks for giving it a chance.

Lena stepped inside slowly, her eyes having to adjust to the artificial glow of the lamps still holding vigil over Kara. She looked around at the surprising emptiness of the room which hours ago had seemed so chaotic. Two tables were pushed together on one side, loose sheets of paper and broken pencils scattered across the surface next to blank screens, their purpose having long since been abandoned. In the center of the room she saw Alex, arms crossed, fingers rubbing small circles over the fabric of her uniform as she stood next to Kara's bed. She looked younger than she had ever seemed to Lena. But more than that she looked like someone who didn't know who they were or what to do; she looked lost. Lena hesitated just inside the doorway. She didn't know if Alex would want her there. Because she had thanked her before, asked for her help, told her how much it meant in a way that Lena thought maybe she knew, but still, this seemed like a moment that wasn't meant to be seen.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't heard Alex call her name, hadn't realized she was talking to her.

"Sorry." Lena's voice was quiet even in the emptiness of the space.

"It-it's okay. Did you find something?" And Lena hates the hint of hopefulness in Alex's voice because she knows she has none to offer.

"No. I just – I wanted to check on her again. Make sure the suit was functioning correctly."

It wasn't a lie. But not the truth either.

Alex nodded, and Lena stepped closer, watching as she reached out toward her sister, her slightly shaking hand running along the edges of the metallic crest on Kara's chest; fingers tracing the unfamiliar material as if desperate to recognize something of comfort in it.

And she wishes there was some other kind of comfort that she could offer her. But, she wasn't good at this. She wasn't good at saying something. She was the person who broke down in silence. She was the one who pushed everything so far down inside herself that it had no choice but to be hidden. She wasn't good at this. She wasn't who Alex needed. Alex needed her sister. And the truth was Lena needed her too.

She took a deep breath and stood quietly next to her instead, willing her presence to be enough, to prove what words could not; you are not alone — Kara is not alone.

"She is going to be so scared. She —" Alex hesitated. "When she wakes up, she's going to be scared."

And it's then Lena starts to understand Alex's helplessness as something more. Because she knows the stories of Supergirl's past, knows them from Lex's journals and little pieces of it Kara lets slip, but she isn't sure she ever understood them until now. Because when she looks down and thinks of Kara, Kara not Supergirl, she thinks of how she always insists on taking the stairs, how they always walk to lunch. She thinks of them standing on her balcony, of the way she sleeps with the windows open.

She glances at Alex, who just looked back hopelessly.

"I don't want her to have to be scared."

And Lena tries to think of what she can say, what words there are to assure her that even if Kara is scared, she won't be alone. That if Alex can't be there, then she will. And the words are hard to find because she isn't supposed to care that much, because to the world she has to pretend that seeing Kara like this isn't killing her. So, she doesn't say anything, but she stays, and it feels like promise enough.

Kara had started to wake up. Brief instances of awareness marked by confusion, by hands trying to grip at her chest.

Each time Alex was there, her voice gentle and reassuring, trying to give her something familiar to hold onto. Lena held back words of her own she wished she could say, her heart already aching with guilt a little each time that Alex couldn't even call her sister by her name because she was there — because she wasn't supposed to know. But still, she couldn't stop herself for holding onto Kara's hand each time, of trying to offer her own comfort. And if Alex notices she doesn't say anything.

The next time it happens the numbers on the monitors are erratic and Lena automatically grabs Kara's hand again, only this time she feels her grip back and for a moment she allows herself to feel relieved, but then Kara's body is arching off the table, her chest heaving as she starts to hyperventilate.

And then Alex is calling her sister's name, too worried to remember that Lena is there, or too scared to care anymore.

"Kara."

But the alarms continue around them, and there is no evidence that Kara can hear them, that she understands what is happening.

Still Alex tries to get through to her.

"Kara. I need you to breathe. I need you to try and take deep breaths. We are right here. We are here with you."

And it's only seconds, but it feels like so much longer until her chest finally starts to rise and fall slower; deeper.

"Good Kara. Alright. That's it."

Her head moves side to side and Lena holds onto her hand afraid to do anything else. It's then she remembers that she can't see them, that the suit is only in life support mode.

"I'm going to turn off the emergency support, and then you'll be able to see us."

Quickly she moves to the tablet next to the bed, letting go of Kara's hand to toggle the suit's controls.

And then for the first time in more than a day, she hears Kara's voice.

"I-I ca-an't fe-el y-you."

But it sounds wrong, the words broken like the thoughts are barely pieced together, like she is still somewhere else.

"I-I ca-an't feel any-anything."

The monitors spike again causing another set of alarms to go off.

"It's too loud. Alex, it's too loud."

Lena reaches again for the tablet disconnecting the feed to the monitors. But it's too late, and Kara's panic returns, her hands grabbing at the helmet, trying to find a way to pull the visor off.

Alex grabs Kara's hands, pulling them away from her face trying to stop her from damaging the suit, trying to not have to watch as her sister suffocates again.

"Kara you have to stop! Kara!"

And Lena watches as Alex starts to lose control, starts to break because this is what she had been afraid of, that they had saved Kara from one monster only to have to lose her to her own demons. And it's too much to think that she might be right, so Lena holds onto the side of Kara's head, eyes focusing on her, trying to imagine the familiar blue of the ones underneath looking back at her.

"Kara!"

And this isn't how she imagined it at all. How she thought she would finally admit the truth she had known now for so long. Because it never really seemed this important before. Even when Kara pushed her about the Kryptonite, even when she said things she regretted in anger. Because she understood what Kara needed from her. She understood that she needed to be vulnerable, that she needed to be flawed and imperfect and loved despite of it. She understood because she needed the same things. But Kara needed too much else from her now. She needed her to save her, she needed her to find a solution that no one else could. And Lena needed more too. She needed to be able to comfort Kara, she needed to be able to hold her when this was over, and in case she was wrong; in case she failed, she needed to be able to tell her that she loved her.

"I'm sorry. I, we didn't have a choice. You were dying Kara. I had to. I'm sorry."

And she feels so angry, so guilty because it was something she made that did this.

Alex's voice is calmer again as she speaks, trying to help Kara make sense of everything that was happening.

"They altered the lead dispersal device. The whole atmosphere was contaminated."

Lena sees her nod her head slightly and knows Alex doesn't need to say the rest. Remembers the pain that Kara once described and knows it wouldn't be something she could forget.

"We had to put you in a radiation-controlled suit that Lena had designed. It's the only way right now to make sure you aren't exposed."

The guilt in her chest eases slightly at the gratefulness in Alex's eyes, but Kara's silence goes on too long for it to go away.

"How long?"

And Kara's voice sounds so small and so broken that it makes the guilt and anger turn into fear.

Because as she looks down to see Kara's hand in hers, she tries to remember the last time they held hands, the last time she felt the warmth of Kara's skin against hers. She tries to remember because she is afraid to forget. Tries to remember because she knows there is a chance she won't ever be able to feel it again.

"I don't know."

A/N: I am afraid this chapter is probably just as angst-ridden as the first but if you guys want, I was thinking of adding a final chapter that would deal with the aftermath of everything and offer these three a little bit of comfort to go with all that hurt. Let me know what you think and if another chapter sounds like a good idea.