Her head is empty. She wishes it were the blissful kind of emptiness, the peaceful kind of carelessness one experiences when drunk, or the floaty moment right before waking up. But this kind of emptiness goes with a deep pressure in her chest that makes her fear she's going to cave in on herself. She wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.
Everything is quiet around her. Eliza is engrossed in a thick paperback she produced from her tiny handbag, Alex is making plans for the apocalypse on her tablet, and Lena is skimming through the science column of the Tribune. None of them complained when Kara said she didn't want to go home yet. She was met with nothing but utmost care and compassion, something she isn't sure she wants to deal with.
Apart from the bottomless numbness of her mind there is something that Kara does feel ; a tiresome buzzing that seems to emanate from every part of her body. The worst, she realises after long minutes of only listening to herself, is that this little annoying noise has been here from the start. It's familiar enough that she can recognise it as her own and remember when she last heard it ; on Earth, before she learned how to tune out her own body. They've been here all along, these parts of her that she can't acknowledge as hers have always been here, waiting to be noticed in their terrible truth. This new knowledge has opened a black hole in her chest and it's sucking every good thing she's ever done.
Her right arm buzzes slightly differently than the rest. It would bother her if she were capable of feeling anything over than numbing nothingness. She should tell Lena she doesn't want it. Doesn't want to be whole. Doesn't want to have the capacity to hurt anyone. If she were to say it, she knows she would move Heaven and Earth to remove it ; but she won't, because Lena is too good for Kara to bother her with something that doesn't really matter.
Because it doesn't matter, does it ? In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter that Kara feels so empty and broken that she could just as well be dead ? If she were dead, she wouldn't feel like that. She doesn't remember what it's like, being dead, it happened too long ago, but she's sure it's nothing like that. Nothing like this crushing feeling of emptiness, nothing like this deep black hole swallowing her soul, nothing like looking at her loved ones and wanting them gone. She sighs, doesn't realise she's done it in the first place until it attracts Lena's attention who lifts her head from her newspaper to question her with a softly arched eyebrow. Are you alright ? her eyes ask. Kara turns on her other side.
She must fall asleep at some point because when she comes to her senses again, she's welcomed by the smell of cheap tomatoes, industrial mozzarella and white bread. "Do you want something to eat ?" Eliza asks because Kara has never been good at faking sleep.
"I'm not hungry," she manages to mumble before switching sides again to stare at the white wall. There's a fly dancing on it and she follows it with laser like precision, trying not to think about ending its life with one precise burst of heat vision. When it becomes too overwhelming, she closes her eyes tightly, failing at repressing another sigh.
"Let me know if you want anything," her Earth mum says softly. "I think they have hot chocolate in the cafeteria."
At that, tears start to well up in her eyes and Kara hates it. Everybody cares about her and she doesn't even care about herself. It's not right. Reflexively, she curls up on herself, a protective position she hasn't felt the need for in such a long time that at first she doesn't understand why her body is cowering this way. She wraps her arms around her knees, tugging them against her chest to make herself as small as possible. Maybe if she disappears, the pain won't be able to find her. A low wail extracts itself from her, filling the room with a terrifying ache. Eliza puts her hand on her shoulder. At least she feels something now.
"You are okay," Eliza whispers in reassurance. "You are okay."
But Kara has heard these exact words so much in the past days that they're almost meaningless now. These syllables are imprinted on everything, even when untold and hidden in every gestures of everyone and at this point she just, "I'm not," she bites back weakly. "I'm really not."
"I think it's time to go home," Eliza says, tenderly brushing a few strands on her forehead.
"I don't want to," Kara replies with as much finality as she can manage. Her voice however, is broken by tears, and she knows she sounds like a child ; a tired, battered child.
"I know a place we can go," Lena offers softly. "If that's okay."
"Please Kara," Alex pleads from much closer than Kara thought she was standing, "let's get out of here."
The air in the car is too warm, almost smothering. Not that Kara really cares, or would say anything if she did. It's a simple ascertainment, the air is too warm. She lays her head on the tinted window, letting the vibrations of the car fill her ears with something that isn't her own buzzing. Lena is leaning against her side, eyes closed, face stone cold. Their fingers are threaded together and stuffed in the nonexistent space between their thighs ; Kara can feel Lena's hand squeezing hard, then relaxing, every couple of minutes. When she semi agreed to this, it didn't occur to her that the Luthor's manor would be so far out of town, that the journey there would be so long and stifling. She feels like she ought to apologise to Lena, but she doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what words will be enough to stop her girlfriend from counting under her breath. Sorry doesn't seem to cut it.
On the seat opposite them, Alex is napping on Kelly's shoulder ; she was out like a light the moment the car started to roll. It's something that Kara has always been envious of, her sister's ability to just fall asleep in cars, planes, trains, like they aren't constricted death traps. Kelly's delicate eyes are roaming on the inside of the car and Kara knows that she notices everything, like the way she chose an oversized sweater so it covers her metal hand, the way Lena's feet are perfectly parallel on the ground, the way she doesn't bother with pushing her hair out of her eyes, the way Lena's jaw clenches every time she misses a number and starts counting again. Kelly notices everything and files it away as proof ; she doesn't speak, there's no need for it right now.
The car turns into a large driveway, its tires screeching on the light grey gravel ; Luthor's manor comes into view. Since Lena moved out and Lillian is off to Rao knows where doing Rao knows what, it's uninhabited at the moment, but it certainly isn't unkept. It sits before them in all its crushing glory of dark stones and black slate, white and purple gladiolus blooming under every window ; Kara can't help but snicker at the irony. The long alley leading up to the front door is flanked by tall triangular trees that projects ominous shadows as they drive by. This place is not good for Lena.
Kara makes up her mind in half a second and she rises from her seat, ready to stop the car. She'll just have to handle living in her apartment, or agree to move to Midvale for the time being like Eliza wanted, because there's no way in hell she'll force Lena to go through living in this horrible place again. "Don't," Lena mumbles for her ears only, holding her into place with a light grasp on her hand. "I can handle it." Before Kara has the time to protest, the car stops and Lena all but ejects herself from it, squaring her shoulders and standing tall, her posture almost foreign to Kara in its Luthorness.
In turn, Alex, Kelly and Eliza extract themselves from the car ; Alex stumbling out like a baby doe. Kara is the last one to exit. She does so carefully, taking in all the new sounds around her at the same time. She hears a spring, trickling down somewhere behind the house. It's almost hidden beneath the ruffling of the wind in the trees, but she entangles the two sounds easily. Further away are the crashing waves of the sea ; and if it weren't the former place of residence of a genocidal maniac, the Luthor's domain would almost be enjoyable.
Two DEO vans pulling up behind them bring Kara back to her immediate surrounding, and with a sigh, she treks up the stairs to join her girlfriend in front of the door. "So," Lena says with a small contrived smile, "this is home."
"We can go," Kara interrupts urgently, "I can handle being in my apartment. You don't have to be here."
"I'm okay," Lena says as she unlocks the door and pushes the heavy wood out of her way to step into the hall. "I am, really," she assures before Kara has any time to protest. "I grew up here you know, this is my home. Sure, I'm, I'm a bit afraid of Lillian just popping out out of nowhere, and I need to settle down again because I lost the habit of being here, but I'll be okay. Will you ?"
Kara glances at the hallway, its dark wood and its obnoxious gilded ornaments ; she's so used to Lena's little apartment that she can't bring herself to see this place as her home. "With you, anywhere is home," she finally settles on, her words honest even if her heart sinks into her stomach at the thought of what's coming for them, wherever their home might be. "If you're okay," she adds earnestly, "then I'll be okay."
"Okay," Lena whispers, repeating the word softly. "Just don't approach the white peacocks," she adds louder, "they're vicious."
Behind them, Alex laughs loudly. "What's the fucking point of white peacocks ?"
Luthor's manor is gigantic, even, Kara thinks, by rich people standards, and so once she's lost Lena in it, it takes her a long time to find her. She wanders around in the gloomy corridors for what seems to be an eternity, searching for something that'll remind her of her girlfriend, she finds none. Everything is orderly, proper, in a way that could almost remind her of her first moments with Lena, when she was stilled and unsettled, if it weren't for a distinctive lack of warmth. She remembers Lena and her apartment blooming at her contact, prides herself on the love and warmth she gave to her girlfriend, but the manor is cold, and stays frozen in her trail. She doesn't understand how this place could ever be a home to anyone.
She walks quickly, trying to ignore the way Lillian Luthor's painted eyes seem to follow her even long after she's passed by her portrait. She keeps her head cocked to the side, hoping for just a square inch of non lead lined wall that would allow her to pick up the familiar heartbeat. She finds none, because of course, there's no loophole in Lex Luthor's manor. She expects for this to spark anger in her, for fury to course through her limbs ; and it does, for the shortest of second before she returns to semi apathy and resumes her search for Lena.
She walks deeper and deeper inside the house, passing by a gigantic indoor swimming pool. She wonders if she'd fry if she were to jump into it. Probably not, she went swimming before and came out perfectly fine. Still, she entertains the thought long after the chlorine has stopped assaulted her nose. Everybody would be better off without her. The further she walks away from the light, the better, relatively speaking, she feels in her darkness ; like being away from Earth's sun fuels a comfortable sadness, and like Rao dwindling down in her heart allows for a welcomed hopelessness.
She does eventually find Lena, her heartbeat drifting through the gap of a door left ajar, but as she goes to find her, Kara can't help but hesitate. Caught between joining her girlfriend and wallowing for a while in an increasingly pleasant sorrow, she stalls, and lets herself slip to the ground, her back meeting the wall with a soft tud when she leans on it. She breathes out, a dull emptiness gripping at her throat. Somewhere above her, Lena breathes in ; Kara makes her decision.
The door leads to a crooked and narrow flight of stairs that she climbs tediously and in the dark, guiding herself with Lena's heartbeat. It takes longer than expected and she has to stop several times to catch her breath, dizzy with the fear that the lead lined walls are closing in on her. She emerges in bright daylight, blinded for a second as the sun tingles warmly on her skin. A roof, of course.
Lena is sitting on the marble ledge, back to her and feet dangling in the air. She comes aware to Kara's presence before she even considers making herself known, and, without turning to look at her, she swiftly lifts her hand to beacon her closer. "I'd forgotten how stifling this place can be," she says once Kara is sitting next to her. "Selective memory I guess. I thought it'd be more fond memories than crushing despair but this is still Lex's house and I still feel guilty for missing him."
"You don't have to," Kara says softly. "Feel guilty I mean. He's your brother."
"He's a genocidal maniac," Lena cuts with an air of finality. "I'm sorry," she adds after a long sigh, "I didn't really thought this through. Being here isn't easy for you either. I just, I just thought that since you didn't want to go home, and being cooped up in the DEO can't be good, it'd be better to come here, where you can breathe. I, I forgot about the Luthor thing for a minute, I always do when I'm around you."
"Good," Kara says firmly. "You are more than a Luthor." She lifts her new arm and with infinite carefulness, lays her hand on Lena's thigh. The sensation is strange, foreign. She doesn't feel it like she used to, can't experience the grain of her jeans, can't perceive the warmth of her skin seeping through it ; instead it prickles like soft electricity and even without looking at it, Kara knows she's touching something. It's new, but she doesn't hate it. It startles her, and she increases the pressure of her palm against Lena to ground herself. Up until now, she's seen her new arm as nothing but the possibility of hurting someone again but it seems to bring so much more, to open many more doors of love and comfort. Lena laces their fingers together, her bare skin sliding against the metal in an uncannily familiar way, and lifts the hand to lay a kiss on it. It's a simple gesture, but the love that emanates from it is enough to start to ease up the pressure in Kara's chest. "I don't mind it that much," she adds after a while, "being here. I mean, it'd be better for everyone to lock me up somewhere and I'm not fond of the lead lined walls, they're oppressive ; but it's outside of town, so, so when Brainiac attacks, it'll lessen the risk of collateral damage. And the garden is nice."
"You're not going to attack anyone again, you know that, right ?" Lena asks hesitantly.
"I don't," Kara snaps though she doesn't mean to. "I know very little things right now. I don't even know how I feel apart from dull and empty. It's like I've swallowed a black hole and it's eating me up from the inside. And I wouldn't even mind it."
"I would," Lena whispers almost inaudibly. "Mind it."
Kara breathes out, forcing all the air out of her lungs before she inhales again, slowly. "I know," she says, "that's why I'm here."
And that's true. She's only here, standing, alive, and not dead at the bottom of a pool or halfway to another planet because her family needs her, because Lena needs her. That's the last thread tethering her sanity ; the fact that somehow, she still matters to other people. Exhaustion freezes her bones, but there's one more thing she needs to say. "I'm sorry," she croaks. "About Veronica."
"I'm not," Lena replies in an almost unnaturally cold way. "Is the DEO going to keep on investigating ?"
"I don't know," Kara muses. "But I can ask Alex. Why ?"
"I'll need help finding all the victims of her little scheme. I want to set up a relief fund to help with treatment and going back to a regular life."
"Her mistakes are not yours to fix," Kara says softly, gently combing her fingers through her hair. "She's not your responsibility."
"Mistake ?" Lena snarls. "People are dead because of her. I know her. She was probably very well aware of what she was doing. This is the last time I'll be dealing with her. Let me do some good."
Kara sighs ; there's no way Lena isn't going to shoulder that burden. And in a way she gets it, the visceral need to do something, to keep moving because if she stops even for a second, the world is going to come crashing down. "I'll ask Alex to help you."
"This place is insane," Alex mumbles as she stacks a chair on top of a counter to reach what Lena vaguely referred to as the "cheap liquor cabinet". "Don't tell Mum I'm doing that."
"You know I could just fly there for you, right ?" Kara asks, trying to keep her tone neutral at her sister's antics.
"And enable my drinking habits ? I'd rather you stay out of my bad decisions."
"Fair enough," Kara shrugs though she still hovers protectively behind the makeshift ladder.
Alex hops down of the counter with a bottle of something that is very clearly on the upscale of the cheap stuff. She eyes it appreciatively for a second before nodding and simply dropping to sit on the floor. "If that's cheap," she says, voicing Kara's uninterested thoughts, "I wonder what's the good one." Her eyes trail on her sister and she pats the ground next to her. "Come sit with me."
"You don't even like vodka," Kara grumbles, plopping down next to her sister.
"That's true," Alex says, cracking the bottle open nonetheless before taking a long sip straight out of it. "God," she coughs, "that's fucking disgusting."
"Don't drink it then." Kara plucks the bottle out of her hand and takes a large gulp out of it. Alex is right, it's disgusting, tastes like window cleaner and can't even get her drunk. She slides the bottle out of both of their reach.
"How are you holding up ?" Alex asks after a while, staring forlornly at the bottle.
Kara thinks about the crushing emptiness in her chest, the dullness of things, and about Lena, her warmth, the prickling in her metal hand when she touched her. "I don't know," she settles on after a moment. "I feel like, I don't know. Like a black hole maybe."
"Feeling depressed would make sense right now," Alex says, her slight frown seeping into her voice.
"Sure Kelly," Kara scoffs, choosing to chip a bit of her pain to flick it at someone else.
Alex sighs. "You know I'm right, even if you don't like it."
"I don't need you to be wise right now," Kara snaps, "I just want to be sad. I just want for everybody to let me be sad ! Is that too much to ask ?"
"No," Alex whispers, her voice cracking on this single syllable. "No, it's not. I'm sorry."
"There's nothing you can do about it."
"Will you still let me be there for you ?"
"Yeah," Kara whispers. "Please. Please don't give up on me." All fight drains from her body and she doesn't even try to stop herself from sagging against her sister. She feels so, so cold and Alex beside her is a warm brilliant sun that she can't help but cling to, because ultimately, that's what her sister has always been, her beacon of hope in the storm.
"Never," Alex replies almost aggressively. "You hear me ? I will never give up on you Kara. I promise."
"I..."
"I'm always with you, alright ? And I'd still be there if you were a killing machine or if things had gone south and you'd been rebooted entirely. You're my sister Kara, I love you and I'm not giving up on you. Never."
"I..."
"You don't have to say anything," Alex cuts softly.
"What if I want to ?"
"You can."
"I, I don't understand," Kara tries, "what's happening, or where things are going. And I'm not really sure I know who I am anymore. But thank you for being here, for being my sister. I'm a bit. I don't know. But I love you."
