Life Moves On
Chapter Notes
UGH, my girls are ROCKSTARS in this chapter! So many amazing feels packed into
a small space, you'll barely notice that the chapter is a bit short. :D
Alex's POV
It feels like I stand there for a long time, torn between hopelessly hurting and raging at myself for
being a wimp, overlaid with the childish want for them to reappear. It wasn't long enough to get
attached! But attached I got.
I've always had family, both biological and chosen. It's been a blessing my whole life and I know it.
But this… this felt different.
They are such a unique unit, mothers and daughters both. In their patchwork quilt of personality
and interests and charisma, I found a sense of family I've never felt. It was a precious gift to even
feel it for these all too short days and my throat and chest ache with it being gone from my life.
Minutes or hours could pass and I have no clue until BP noses my wrist hard enough to almost
hurt. Apparently I've been ignoring her for some time. My wan smile reassures my sidekick and I
crouch down to hug her close.
"Thanks, pal," I whisper wetly as she wriggles with affection and a pinwheeling tail. My knees are
aching by the time approaching footsteps bring my head up where I've pressed it to BP's neck.
Nia's empathetic pain shines clearly in her eyes and she extends a hand.
"Come on, then," she coaxes at me soberly and I go, meek and a little broken, to get back to my
life.
The day goes by in a monotonous blur, my body knowing the way of my basic chores, my higher
cognitive functions trying to ignore the echo of those that have left coming from every room, every
corner, in the changing tapestry of the open sky.
It feels right to be out in the cold today, Brainy and I working on proper winter shelter for the
herds. I don't even hear Kara approaching and her voice startles me from my haze.
"They got home safe."
I'm glad she waited to say it until after I finished hammering in the nail.
We three work quietly side by side until evening draws in. I skipped lunch and no amount of
heartbreak can shut up the snarling ache in my belly. After inhaling enough chicken and veg to
make me feel a little more human, I find myself looking over my companions as discretely as I can
with them watching me in return. Notably, it's Monica that looks as miserable as I feel.
The little curl of smile doesn't make me feel better, but it does get Monica's attention. Gesturing
between us with my fork, I speak up. "You and me tomorrow, right?"
It's the right thing to say, her sad little face perking up a little. "Yeah. It'll be fun."
I'd promised to come along to her school's Halloween thing and wear a stupid werewolf mask and
gloves that had made Carol curl up laughing. What can I say, I'm not used to telling the kid no.
No one says a word when I leave after eating. For all that I want to avoid my little house, where
else would I even go? It's cool inside, Biscotti crying hello as I flick on the lights. I feed my
furballs and stoke up a nice little blaze in the firebox before settling into the couch with a couple of
strong beers and the TV droning on.
Soon Biscotti is curled up behind my neck, purring away, and BP has her head in my lap, curled as
close as she can to my legs where I've stretched them out on the low table. Petting them is soothing,
grounding me in the emotional fog clinging to brain and heart. Unsurprisingly, I'm exhausted
quickly and let myself drift off right there on my shitty couch.
It's not like I could have stood being in the bed anyway.
Day two sees me feeling bruised in body and soul. Seriously, I need to replace that damn couch.
After breakfast, I head out to continue working in the pastures. It's nearly lunchtime before a jittery
Brainy finds words to offer to go to Monica's Halloween thing in my place. It's sweet, but a
promise is a promise and all the excited kids in their costumes turns out to be a great mood lifter.
So life moves on, but it's quieter now.
Gone is Lily's endless questions and Ruby's zingy sass, Sam's enthusiasm and contrasting
introspection, Lena's sly humor and sweetness. Everyone on the farm remains strangely quiet, even
most of the animals. Somehow it doesn't make me feel better that I'm not the only one.
November tightens its grip on us, snow omnipresent as the days wander from gray and blustery to
blindingly sunny and cold. I can't bring myself to give a damn about missing another Marvel
movie as Thor: Ragnarök premiers on the 3rd, or celebrate the kitten's eight week milestone, or sit
in on the preview of the newest video with the others on the 4th. It's too soon to relive those happy
days and the sadness of goodbye. Winn is good for carefully working around the events to preserve
everyone's emotional states and I trust his storytelling.
I couldn't be more grateful for this family around me. They are an ocean of quiet strength and
support for each other and in that support I can begin to find even footing in myself again.
Even as I remained rooted in the weight of being changed so deeply.
Lena's POV
I learned to be my own person years ago. It wasn't easy to break away from the expectations of my
family, the public and myself. Sometimes though, the privilege is enormously handy. So feeling
that sense of self shaken is a trial I could really do without.
Yet, the shift feels important, even if I can't quite figure it out so far.
Halloween is both fun and a trial. Hordes of excited, noisy kids is something I'm used to by now,
but it grates on my nerves with the quiet and calm of the farm still deep in brain and bones. Sam
and Ruby look completely like mother and daughter, firm with determination to make the most of
the day, despite everything. My wild spark is anything but her wild self, sticking close and mostly
hanging onto my hand to watch with wide, almost confused eyes.
Even the exhausting day doesn't make for good sleep and we're all grateful that Ruby has a half
day for the kids to recover before getting back to school mode. She stays with us instead of her
dorm, as if I needed more proof of how shook up we all are. Still, she holds her head high and hugs
us all long and hard before slogging off back to her life here.
Honestly, I couldn't be more proud of her.
My ruthless Luthor efficiency I mostly keep dialed down had set up transportation while we were
still in the air also gets us home in good order. The driver hesitates to just leave us on the curb once
he unloads our luggage, which is another point in the service's favor. Still, the three of us don't
head in for a long minute while we stare at the building that has been home for so long.
It's… big. Oh sure, this is no skyscraper, but after the farm, the human-made cliff of concrete and
stone feels intimidating, another sheer face in canyons of them all around. My strange unease
translates to Lily, who clings all the close, gripping my hand hard while the late fall is a chilly
breeze around us.
Once again Jess proves how damn amazing she is, appearing from the apartment lobby with a wide
grin.
"Hey there! Welcome home!"
Oh, she notices our unease, brows drawing in with questions, but she stays relaxed and simply
helps us with the luggage. The familiar lobby and elevators and the halls leading us all feel… off.
And the feeling doesn't fade as our front door opens beneath Jess' hand.
Days later, it still feels weird to be here. At least having Lily here made it more bearable until we
all rushed back to Peekskill to get Ruby for the weekend. Unlike the older kids, Lily had the rest of
Halloween week off. Being together makes the unease easier.
All of us have remained quiet since returning to our noisy city with the press of life so omnipresent
around us. Oh, we're functionally stable enough as we go about our lives, but Sam is distractable
and frazzled, there are no zingers from Ruby, and none of Lily's rumpusing. Even bath time is
notably lowkey.
And none of us bring up watching the latest video from Rainbow Haven Acres.
Lily clings and cuddles, asking every night for Sam or I to read her oldest, most favorite book, one
she swore she was too big for just weeks ago. As I have done for years, I read the familiar
adventure of Max and the Wild Things and their wild rumpus. Lily climbs into the big master bed
every night and I almost ask if she wants to stay home from school. Despite how I'd love her to
stay, I keep my mouth shut and stiff-jawed and stoic, she packs her things and is ready to go right
on time.
It's a quiet Sunday dinner and drive north with none of us knowing how to put words to how we
feel.
True to my Luthor blood, I ruthlessly go over the books and get my project on the fast track while
Sam prowls the club like a caged animal and housecleans as though we've been away for a
lifetime. At least the hard work ensures we can actually sleep.
I was spoiled by Alex in the bed, even for those few nights, her body firm and anchoring and above
all, cool. She tamped down Sam's furnace, kept the normally restless nights calm. I'm living off
naps, dozing off at inopportune moments. There's no point in bringing it up, after all it's not as
though Sam can control her poor sleep, and I soldier on.
Sam's POV
I don't like this mental reminder of days when only sheer desperation kept me going. Barely
sixteen and pregnant, I'd faced the world alone. Ironically, Patricia's terrible mothering had left me
with skills enough to survive, because I had been surviving most of my life.
There are still so many days when I can barely believe how my life has gone. From the gutter to the
jeweled heights, it's been a hell of a ride. The money is only a tool, the important part is the joy of
family and the life we've all built.
A joy that Alex and the farm had fit around so well…
I'm not entirely certain why the quiet of the farm has rattled me so, leaving me jittery in my own
skin. The constant din around us is like the muffled racket of war.
Pouring all my nervous energy into home and work is the only thing I can concentrate on. Okay, so
after two eighteen hour days deep cleaning whatever I can get my hands on, maybe contorting
myself under the club's deep fryers to get at hidden corners was a bit much. Even the unflappable
Natasha is starting to look at me oddly. The rest of the staff is keeping at arm's length as though I'm
going to bite someone.
I know there are words in me that need saying, but it's so much white noise, not unlike the chaos
around me. It's so bad that I can barely interact with my family, even the girls home for the
weekend barely focusing me. Some dispassionate part of me -disgusted at my erratic behavior-
knows that I have some making up to do with Lena for not pulling my parental weight.
An overnighter in Yonkers to comfort Lily before school starts up on Monday is torture. Inactivity
makes me feel like a caged animal even as the lessening of the city noise soothes parts of me. Parts
of me I don't understand and certainly don't know. Have I always craved peace but never really
knew what it was? How could I even know what that sort of peace was? I went from neglect and
abuse to desperation to survive to an active life built with my beloved Luthors.
Yet somehow, impossibly, this perfect, fulfilling life… no longer feels like it fits quite right. And
that brings up the question; who am I if not an inhabitant of this familiar life?