Lena has a feeling that Veronica is waiting for her to say something, but she can't think of any words to change the look of furry in her girlfriend's eyes.

"Are you cheating on me ?" Veronica finally barks, moving further inside the apartment and sitting on the couch like she owns the place.

"What ?" Lena says incredulously, nearly chocking on her spit. "I would never do that, you know it. And I've known her for less than a week, this is ridiculous."

"Then what were you doing here with her ?"

"We were just having a drink," Lena says stating the obvious in a way that, she quickly realises, isn't going to appease Veronica.

"After spending the whole day together ? Sounds cozy," Veronica bites, kicking Kara's abandoned can as she sets her feet on the coffee table.

"How do you even know that ?" Lena asks, dread drenching her insides like freezing water. "Are you spying on me ?"

"Don't be ridiculous Lena. One of my men merely saw you at the park, with her."

"Don't call them that," Lena says, barely repressing a shiver, "it sounds like you have a gang."

"I have lackeys. And my lackeys told me you were spending your day with someone who isn't me."

"You cancelled our date," Lena says, harsher than she intends to.

"And that somehow give you the right to do this ?"

"I didn't do anything ! I'm just making a friend. Being social. You always tell me I need to make efforts well that's what I was doing." Lena skips the part where she herself really wants to be Kara's friend, not just for Veronica's profit. She doesn't tell her how she craves the company of her neighbour, how she longs for her warm presence not even five minutes after she left. She wonders if there's such a thing as emotional cheating, but it's preposterous, she doesn't know Kara enough, and she loves Veronica. "I'm not cheating on you."

"Good. Because you know I love you and I wouldn't want that."

"I love you too," Lena mumbles, deeply ashamed though she isn't sure she really should be.

"Go change," Veronica says, abruptly getting up and making her way to the kitchen, most likely to get herself a glass of wine. "You look ridiculous and we're going out."

"I don't really feel like going out," Lena says weakly, "I'm a bit tired."

"We're going out. You never want to do anything fun, and I want to have fun." Her tone is final, and Lena knows better than to argue with her even when she wants nothing more than a nice bath and a good book. "God !" Veronica shouts, slamming a cupboard door, "where the fuck are your wine glasses ?!"

Lena treats the pounding in her head with two painkillers and a cup of tea. The tightness in her chest however persists for the entire day, and by the time Monday rolls around, she can barely breathe.

She tries yoga, takes a bath, goes to work early, but nothing can distract her from her phone, silent except for an early text from Ruby, with a picture of an uncannily smiling cookie ; she swears this child has a sixth sense. She considers calling Sam, but knows she's busy with her move. She needs to call Veronica, but knows there's little chance she'll pick up, even after abandoning her in the dingy bathroom of that loud club she doesn't like. She might want to call Kara, but she doesn't have her number, and Veronica wouldn't like that anyway.

In spite of the smothering mud filling her lungs, she still goes about her day pushing through her anxiety to be the CEO this company needs. She doesn't take a lab break, her presence being required in three back to back meetings, a conference call and one board meeting. Some of these she could delegate, Sam could easily take care of the call from Metropolis, Jess could lead the board meeting for her ; but she needs to prove she can do it, to herself, and to the email from her mother sitting in her inbox, and to her board, and to Jess who gives so much of herself to L-Corp already, and to Ruby who looks up to her.

She doesn't make it to the end of the day.

Sam calls her to debrief a meeting of her own and when she picks up, she cannot breathe. Air sticks to her throat like it's made of goo and she doesn't know what to do except drown. Her office is too bright but when she closes her eyes, the walls collapse on her, and when she opens them again, she finds herself curled under her desk, knees drawn to her chest, and shivering, shivering, shivering, like she'll never be warm again.

The phone lays abandoned on the desk and she can no longer hear Sam's voice coming through it ; she bears it no mind, she doesn't even think about her friend calling in the first place until said friend burst into her office, nearly unhinging the double doors.

"Lena !" she calls out, covering the last meter by sliding on her knees. "What happened ?"

Lena doesn't try to reply, knowing that if she tries, no words will come out of her mouth anyway. Instead, she focuses everything she has into turning the air into something breathable again. But everything still feels like goo, like drowning in a monster ; a monster coming from inside.

"I'm going to touch you, okay Lena ?"

Sam's voice is distant, muffled through the ringing in her ears. She agrees, at least she must do, nodding or saying words she doesn't hear, because Sam slides under the desk with her and gathers her into her arms, applying a firm, but not overbearing, pressure. Her friend is warm, solid, and she singlehandedly prevents the world from caving on Lena. She puts her hand on her chest, accompanying her ragged breathing until it settles back into something calmer.

Air turns into air again and the pressure in her chest dissolves a little, helping the world around her regain its shape. Everything is a bit blurry ; she thinks she's crying.

"I'm carrying you to the couch, okay ?"

Lena mumbles her agreement, giving up on words for the time being, and lets Sam move her to the couch and wrap her tightly in the fluffy blanket she keeps hidden there for long nights of work, or situations like this one. It's not that it happens that often, but she keeps such a tight control over her life that the moment a piece of her carefully crafted puzzle falls out of place, she tends to lose it.

"Want to talk about what happened ?" Sam asks gently as she puts the kettle on and sets to making some tea, black for Lena, herbal for herself. "Did Veronica do something shitty again ?"

"She didn't do anything," Lena replies harshly, even when she knows it won't take long for Sam to get to the bottom of this. Her friend is, unfortunately, used to handling her, and over the course of their friendship, Lena has seldom managed to hide something from her.

"Are you sure ?" Sam prompts softly, returning to the couch with two steaming cups of comfort. "Because if I need to talk to her again, you know I will."

"We all know that your version of 'talking' isn't always appropriate," Lena says, taking a grateful sip out of tea. "You shouldn't even be here."

"Nobody saw me. And if someone did, it'll just spark speculations over Superman returning from wherever he is right now and then people will move on. You needed me, so I came. Now, don't deflect my question, do I need to talk to Veronica ?"

"It's not her per se," Lena gives up with a deep sigh. "You know how I get wrapped up in my head sometimes and then things get a little bit much." Sam nods, encouraging her to go on. "We got into a fight. Over the way she treats people like garbage sometimes. And it really wasn't my place to say anything. I shouldn't try to influence her views on the world. So I apologised, we made up. But she got a bit rough and..."

"Did she hit you ?" Sam cuts, her voice rising angrily, enough to cover the sudden crack of her broken mug. "Because if she did I swear to Rao you need to break up with her. You deserve much better."

"She didn't," Lena replies in the smallest of voice, "she just got angry, the way she does when I'm being an ass. I deserved it."

"You did not. You deserve to be treated fairly and lovingly by someone who really cares."

"No one cares."

"Don't be. What's that weird word you like ? Daft. Don't be daft Lena, you know it's not true."

"You know what I meant," Lena sighs, her headache returning in full strength.

Sam sighs, running her hand through her tangled hair and closing her eyes for a second. "Yes I know you meant romantically but it still isn't true. There's a gentlewoman out there waiting to take care of you. I know you've got history with Veronica, but she's abusive, and a part of you knows that, no matter how deep that part of you is buried."

"You just don't like her," Lena defends weakly.

"No I don't, that's true," Sam admits. "But I can tolerate her if she makes you happy. She doesn't. She's dangerous, she's trying to break you until all you have is her and I won't let that go on any longer."

"She loves me."

"And someone else will. Just because she tells you you're hard to love doesn't mean it's true. The right person won't give a shit about your OCD, won't care that you need to take inventory before you leave your home, or that you alphabetise everything, or that you wash your hands all the time. You're not hard to love. I love you. Ruby does too. And we know there's a girl out there for you who isn't an abusive asshole."

"Do you really think I should break up with her ?" Lena asks in a small heartbreaking voice.

"I think you should do what makes you happy. Does she make you happy ?"

It's a question Lena should be able to answer immediately, and a part of her knows that by struggling to reply, she's proving Sam's point. Veronica doesn't make her happy. Veronica makes her feel small, and lonely, and weak.

"I know you don't want to be alone," Sam says gently, "that you want a girlfriend, and ultimately, a wife, but you used to be the best at being alone. Remember college ? When I used to find you in the most random places because you needed some peace and quiet and were tired of people trying to get in your pants ? And then you decided that we could be alone together and you invited me to all your spots and I confessed I was an alien on the roof and you told me you were a lesbian in the storage room of your lab. You never needed anyone back then, you weren't afraid of not being romantically involved. You were fierce. When was the last time you felt like that around Veronica ? When was the last time being with her didn't feel like drowning in a crowd ? I know you went through a rough patch, but you don't need to be in a relationship to be worthy, to not be alone. I'm moving here soon, with Ruby, you'll have us, like you've always had."

Lena answers with a sob, and the waterfall breaks loose. Her body convulses with the strength of her tears and she's vaguely aware of Sam's comforting hand on her back. She cries for what could be hours or minutes, she doesn't care ; even through her wracking sobs, Sam makes her feel safe, safer than she feels around her girlfriend. The more she cries, the more she realises Sam is right. With actual words on the way Veronica makes her feel, it's clear that this isn't right. She doesn't want to believe it, doesn't want for it to be true, she wants this love to be real, to be healthy, but it isn't and her current state is proof enough of it.

Curled into her friend, she tries to make sense of her thoughts, to hang onto something that will help her see this through. Veronica loves her, in her own way maybe, but she does, and Lena cannot help but think this is the only chance she'll ever have. Without meaning to, she thinks about the half torn picture on Sam's bedside table and how her friend has been heartbroken for the last decade. Is this how she's going to be too ? Sam is strong, but Lena isn't ; and she doesn't know if she can break up with Veronica knowing that she could very well never find something like that again.

"I'm not strong like you," she whispers eventually. "I can't break up with her if it's my only chance. What if it's just a rough patch ?"

"You'll have to admit it's been a rough patch for a while," Sam says, rubbing her hand up and down her arm. "You deserve the world, and she doesn't want to give it to you."

Lena has been staring at her phone long enough to not remember when she started staring at it. All she knows is that Sam has been gone for roughly two hours and that "we need to talk" is not a good way to start a break up conversation. Overall, a text conversation isn't a good way to break up with someone, but she doesn't want to have to invite Veronica over, she needs to be able to leave and she knows she'll feel trapped. She guesses she could also go to Veronica's, but lately, her girlfriend's penthouse has been a source of unrelentless anxiety ; everytime she's stepped through that door she's been overcame by a deep fear seemingly unattached to anything real. She really should have seen it before.

Now that she has acknowledged what she didn't want to acknowledge, there's a sense of urgency surrounding the next step she has to take ; strangely, this sense of urgency is also what's preventing her from acting. She knows her endgame, knows she needs to blow up the bridge that exists between Veronica and herself, but every moment up to this point is blurry and mostly made of dread. Lena cannot fathom a possibility where everything would go right. Good outcomes are foreign to her, she's used to bad things, horrendous catastrophes ; and the more she thinks about it, the more she's convinced she's running straight into a wall.

The looming fear of confronting Veronica is strong enough that she cocoons herself in her anxiety instead of doing it. Anxiety, wild heartbeats, the crushing pressure in her chest, are all things she's used to, and compared to what she needs to do, they're almost welcomed. By Friday, after almost a week of no contacts with Veronica, she's half convinced that they've broken up already, and half hopeful that things are going to fix themselves on their own. She tries not to want it, but she can't help but think she's going to find a bouquet of roses on her desk, maybe even plumerias if her girlfriend remembered, and that things are going to get back to how they were, not right before their fight, but long ago, when it felt right, and Lena was happy.

The week is marked by no progress at all in any department of her life ; Lena is both stationary and rushing towards impediment doom with what she perceives as zero chance of survival. She finds no refuge in her private lab, no refuge in her home office, her books are all glaring back at her, and tea doesn't even do the trick anymore. When she climbs on the roof that Friday night, she's on the verge of another panic attack and it doesn't even occur to her that, of course, Kara is going to be there too. She's both surprised and relieved by her presence but refuses to acknowledge how she might have subconsciously came up here chasing after that peculiar feeling of safety that emanates from her neighbour.

Kara is sitting on the edge with her back to her and it's only when she sees her swinging her head back to take a sip of something for the third time that Lena realises she might have been staring for longer than intended. She pads closer and takes a sit next to her ; close enough to feel her warmth but with a decent distance between them. The label of Kara's beer has been torn off.

"What brings you to my side of the turf ?" she asks playfully, but with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"What do you do when you have something important to do but can't bring yourself to do it ?" Lena asks without meaning to, tricked by Kara's comfort.

Kara looks surprised for a second before her expression morphs into a mask of blankness. "I find it easier to just dive straight in," she says slowly, looking right at the setting sun. "Just get it over with and then maybe reward myself with a little something after."

"So just rip off the bandaid ?"

"Exactly. It can be hard, sometimes scary depending on what you have to do, but you'll feel better once it's done."

"Easier said than done," Lena mumbles to herself, looking at her shoes and then quickly back up when she realises doing so places the ground right into her sightline.

"It is," Kara admits, "but you'll feel better after." She takes another sip of her beer, the setting sun glistening on the bottle and illuminating her golden jaw. "Is this something I can help you with ?" she adds, her bottle now empty but her eyes full of something that is slowly becoming addicting.

"No," Lena says reluctantly, "but thank you."

"Can I offer you a beer then ?" Kara asks, producing an ice cold can of Guinness with an inviting smile.

Lena accepts, but the contact of the freezing metal makes her shiver so violently that if it weren't for Kara's strong arms, she might have fell off the roof. She takes back the can and opens it for her, before she passes it back along with her thick plaid shirt that Lena doesn't even think about refusing. She takes in the smell of lavender and a swig of her beer ; somehow, she seems to be sitting closer to Kara than she was before.

Lena doesn't dive straight in, doesn't rip off the metaphorical bandaid. Comes Monday morning and there are roses on her desk ; she allows herself to confuse the tight feeling in her chest with love.

It last two days, two days of thinking what she has with Veronica is right and that Sam is wrong. Two days before she meets Kara on the roof again and it hits her in the face like a boulder. Her neighbour is sitting at her usual place with a spare plaid shirt and a blanket neatly folded beside her, like she understood without being told that Lena gets cold easily. For a moment, she can hear Sam like if she were standing next to her, "There's a gentlewoman out there waiting to take care of you." This woman that she barely knows, that she's just beginning to befriend, cares for her better than her own girlfriend.

Kara straightens up, she knows she's here, can hear her even though she always try to make the least possible noise. Lena doesn't join her, instead she retreats back to her apartment.

None of this feels right.

She ends up lying on her cold bed, staring at the dark ceiling for far too long and trying to find the motivation to get up and start her day early. Eventually, she falls asleep, she must do because she's startled awake by the ringtone she assigned to Veronica. She struggles to reach her phone, misses the call and is in the process of dialling back when it rings again.

"Good, you're awake," Veronica's voice bites through the phone.

"Roonie," Lena mumbles, "it's 5am."

"I have a breakfast meeting at 8 and I want you to be here. Wear something suitable please."

"I can't this morning," Lena says, pushing herself up and instantly missing the semi-warmth of her blanket. "I have a meeting with an engineer from Japan at 8:30."

"Then push it back."

"I really can't. It's an important meeting."

"My meeting is important too. This relationship can't be just about you Lena."

"This has nothing to do with our relationship," Lena says, trying to keep her voice calm even when she can feel an uncharacteristic anger boiling inside of her. "My meeting with Miss Sato has been planned for two months and it's on the shared planner you insisted we get."

"You're impossible to deal with," Veronica sighs and Lena can definitely hear her hitting something on the other side of the phone.

"No I'm not," she whispers.

"What was that ?" Veronica asks sharply.

"I said no I'm not," Lena repeats, her voice just on the edge of trembling, her heart one inch closer to breaking. "I'm not impossible to deal with, you're just not willing to make the effort."

"Well, that's new," Veronica says, seemingly unfased. "Who have you been talking to ?"

"I can think for myself."

"I never implied the contrary."

"Haven't you ? You only ever see me through you, like I can only do things if they come from you."

"So what ?" Veronica barks, "are you out to get me now ?"

"I am not hard to love, I am not hard to be with, and I'm breaking up with you."

"No you're not," Veronica says with finality.

"Yes I am," Lena says, her voice braver that she herself is. "I'm breaking up with you. I don't want you to string me along anymore, I'm not a toy."

"Come on Lena, you don't really want to break up with me, I can hear you crying."

Indeed, Lena is crying, but she isn't quite sure it's out of sadness. These feel like tears of relief more than tears of heartbreak.

"And this is the last time I'll ever cry because of you," she says, "we're done."

"You can't be serious. What are you going to do without me ? We need each other."

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you," Lena answers honestly, "but what I'm doing with you isn't right. We're breaking up, and I won't change my mind."

"You're going to change your mind, I know you. The question is if I'll be there to take you back."

Lena doesn't have the time to answer before the line disconnects.

It doesn't feel at all like she expected. Her heart hasn't been ripped out of her chest, the world hasn't stopped turning ; and the pressure in her lungs has even eased up a little. She sits extremely still for a minute, then another, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her phone to ring, for Veronica's lackeys to swarm her home. When none of this happen, she exhales deeply, and gets out of bed, feeling better than she has in quite some time.

Lena's alleviation doesn't last, and the other shoe seems to hover over her head for the remainder of the day. When she gets out for lunch with Miss Sato, she feels watched, her phone rings seven times from an unknown number, she feels unsafe in her lab, and when she finally decides to go home, she's certain she's being followed. By the time she's done struggling with the heavy door of her building, she wouldn't be surprised if someone was waiting for her in the hallway, ready to discreetly take her out. She doesn't even fully grasp why she believes Veronica would get her killed for breaking up with her, but she can't shake the feeling off.

The elevator is broken and she makes herself believe that her elevated heart rate is due to the exertion of climbing four flights of stairs and not the crushing fear of being shot. She's even more easily convinced when she opens the door to the brightly lit corridor (someone must have fixed the lights) to the delighting smell of cookies and a hint of lavender that clear her lungs and the pressure in her chest.

Veronica is waiting for her on the couch.