A/N: This is an Alex/Kara fic. If that's not your thing, back out now. Any flaming will be met with mockery.
A/N2: Written for Kalex Week 2021 Day 1: Memory Loss
"Oh, excuse me." Alex grimaced then tried to smile at the woman she'd rammed into. "I tripped." Something that happened far too often. The woman didn't respond. To Alex's horror, she slid out of the booth and disappeared before Alex could apologize again. The little hunger she felt slipped away. Nausea warred with dizziness which argued with the ice pick jammed into her left eye.
Another woman, one Alex hadn't realized shared the booth with the blonde Alex had bumped, stared at her. An eyebrow rose slowly. "Kara's fine. Are you?"
Something about the voice, the chill in the woman's eyes were familiar. "I'm…"
"Sit down."
Alex stiffened at the brusque order. Who the fuck was this woman? "No." She widened her stance. Crossed her arms over her chest – and met the woman glare for glare.
Seconds ticked by in silent standoff. People pushed by; voices called out orders.
They might have remained locked in a silent battle of wills if the woman's phone hadn't buzzed like an angry bee against the tabletop. Alex blinked, dazed, as the woman swiped a finger across the screen. "What? Now?
Alex turned away from the conversation. Her knees felt funny. Like they wanted to bend backward. Each step toward the counter sucked at the pathetic puddle of Alex's energy. Alex was so fucking tired of being tired. Every day since the accident.
"What can I get for you, Alex?" The girl behind the counter winked. "More doughnuts for that bottomless pit I saw come in earlier? Or your usual blueberry pancakes with whipped cream?"
Alex frowned. "Bottomless pit?" Was this a nightmare? First the bitch in the booth and now this kid somehow knowing her name.
The girl's grin widened. "Kara? She and Ms. Luthor ordered two dozen doughnuts."
Kara. Kara must have been the blonde she'd bumped at the booth. Alex refused to believe the other woman ever ate more than a bite of anything. She automatically glanced in that direction, but Kara and the bitch were gone. A busboy scraped silverware and crumbs onto the plates already stacked into his tub.
"Just the pancakes." They sounded good, better than the coffee Alex had originally planned to order. "And a coffee." Who cared if her doctor told her caffeine wouldn't help her relax and heal.
"One Alex Danvers Special coming up." The girl chattered as she punched buttons on the register. "I remember the first time Kara showed us how to make your mom's famous recipe. Of course, she had to be the taste tester until we got everything perfect."
Face frozen into an expressionless mask to hide her confusion (and growing irritation), Alex nodded. "The special has to be perfect," she mumbled.
"It'll be a few minutes. Have a seat and I'll bring your order out when it's ready."
"Thanks." Alex dropped into the first empty chair she could find at a tiny, two-person table crammed into a corner near the condiments bar. Reaching for her phone, she texted Maggie. Took your advice.
Her phone rang, Shoutout to My Ex blaring until Alex managed to answer. "Got yourself a girl, Danvers?" Sirens and shouts filled the background.
"Where the hell are you?" Alex asked, ignoring Maggie's completely inappropriate opening. "And why didn't you…I don't know…wait to text or call until after you left the war zone?" Panting breaths answered. "Maggie?" Alex stood, adrenaline causing her earlier muscle tremors turn into earthquakes.
"Hang…on…"
The counter kid rushed up. "Here you go, Alex." She glanced over Alex's shoulder. "Uh, I know you don't talk about your job. Like, at all. But I've seen you on the news with Supergirl. Want me to keep breakfast warm while you do whatever it is you do? She's getting killed out there."
Turning her head, Alex noticed that the television over the closed bar area was now on. The newscast showed Supergirl firmly lodged in the exterior of a building.
The adrenaline overload grew worse. Alex clenched her hands into fists. The phone in her hand creaked. "I'll be back," she announced then ran from the restaurant. She didn't have a plan. She didn't know where she was going. She only knew she had to go.
"Alex?"
Alex put her forgotten phone to her ear. "I…Maggie…" She couldn't think. Words tumbled out without rhyme or reason. "I have to do something. Supergirl…"
Luckily, Maggie seemed to understand anyway. "Take a breath, Danvers." Her tone was firm yet calm, and Alex followed her directions. It eased the ache in her chest. "Good. Do it again."
The next deep breath cleared most of the fog from Alex's mind.
"Now, go home, Dan-" Maggie broke off. Her next comment was a bellow. "Hey, fuckwad. Pick on someone your own size!" Alex recognized the staccato blast of gunfire. "I gotta go. Go home, Alex!" The line went dead.
"Home, my ass." Alex picked up her pace, running pell-mell down the sidewalk. People jumped out of the way. A few yelled obscenities at her back. None of it mattered. Getting there mattered. Even if Alex wasn't sure where "there" was.
Five blocks and two alleys later, Alex found where she needed to be.
Black and white police cruisers created a perimeter around an old apartment building. Alex staggered past pajama-clad families, clusters of onsite reporters, and phone-wielding looky-loos. Alex bobbed and weaved before slipping by two uniforms gaping at Supergirl, a hundred or more feet in the air, dangling from the clawed hand of an alien resembling a muscled Elliot the Dragon, including the tiny, flapping wings.
Her hand dropped to her waist but found only her favorite leather belt. Alex scanned the rest of the area. Uniformed cops. Fatigue-clad S.W.A.T. Plainclothes detectives. All hunkered down behind radio cars, sidewalk benches, or bike racks.
Unease joined the adrenaline crawling through her veins. She was too exposed. Unarmed.
Alone.
"Danvers!" A voice, Maggie's voice, hissed from somewhere close by.
Alex kept her eyes on Supergirl and crouched as she pushed her aching body into another run. This time, she had a clear target: the side of the apartment building.
The brick was cool against her back. Alex leaned into it, mind suddenly sharp and focused. She knew what to do. Breath rasping in her throat, Alex took off. Up the concrete steps leading into the apartment building. Past the elevators. Into the stairwell. Her footsteps and breathing echoed as she pelted up.
Alex didn't stumble. She didn't falter. Two flights. Five.
She exploded into the carpeted hallway of the seventh floor. Alex headed for one of the only apartments that would have a window overlooking Supergirl's fight. A single kick drove the door inward despite the deadbolt and chain. She'd have to come back and introduce the tenant to the Door Club. It was far more successful at keeping people out.
Supergirl was visible outside the large set of windows on the living room wall. Alex detoured to the kitchen, arming herself with a carving knife and a boning knife.
The living room window slid up with an ear-splitting shriek. The alien turned its incongruously small head at the sound. It hissed.
"Alex! No!" Supergirl struggled against the hand wrapped around her throat. Blood seeped around the claws where they dug into her skin. "Get out of here!"
Not happening. Dropping to one knee, Alex flipped the boning knife until the blade rested between her fingertips. She drew it back toward her ear and…threw. It sailed through the window.
It would have been the perfect toss. Alex knew it would have, if it hadn't clipped the window casing. The blade clattered uselessly off the alien's scaled stomach. A roar shook the building. The alien tossed Supergirl away. Its teeth gleamed in the sunlight.
"Bring it on, bitch," Alex taunted. She staged the carving knife and waited. She wouldn't miss again.
She almost did anyway.
The alien was faster than she'd anticipated. Alex barely managed to throw the knife as it flew through the apartment wall. Plaster, concrete, and alien landed on Alex. Her head smacked into the floor. The room spun.
"Alex!"
"Damn it, Danvers!"
More voices. All calling some form of her name in fear or anger or exasperation.
Only one mattered. Alex honed in on Supergirl's voice. "Why? Why do you always do this, Alex Danvers Zor-El?" Dirty, blood-streaked hands lifted the alien away before cupping Alex's face gently. "You're human. You do remember that, don't you?"
Alex merely stared into Supergirl's bright blue eyes. She'd parse through the flood of questions later. Maybe she'd even have an answer or two. "You're OK? That thing didn't hurt you?"
The blue grew impossibly brighter. Supergirl's smile, though, was wry. "Always worried about everyone else." (Everyone that included Supergirl, Alex silently agreed.) "Only a few scratches. I'll be fine, I promise." Strong arms slipped under Alex's back and legs. "So will you – as soon as the doctors check you out and I take you home."
Alex didn't waste time wondering why Supergirl cared if she was injured or how she knew where Alex lived. She closed her eyes as Supergirl launched them into the air. She relaxed into a steel-hard chest, scenting the hauntingly familiar scents of ozone, vanilla, and ginger. Everything would be alright.
Somehow, Alex knew, all the way to her soul, that Supergirl would take care of everything. Would take care…of her.