don't ask me why i keep writing medical fics, guess i'm just a sucker for them. now, there's a shocker in the end, but you may be able to figure it out in the end.
it's been quite some time i wrote a multichapter supercorp fic - i hope i haven't gone rusty, but most importantly, i hope y'all will enjoy it! oh and uh, just to forewarn you, i have no bloody clue about medical terms or even firefighting. i'm just pretending i know things after watching grey's anatomy and station 19, cheers!
now, read, ponder, and enjoy!
For once, the siren was silent. No voice emitted from the intercom requesting assistance from aid cars, engines, or even something as simple as a ladder. No one came rushing in to drop a baby or yell at the staff to just come out and help, please.
For once, it was a Friday night, and the night shift of Station 15 could sit down in the dining room and just enjoy their dinner. They could take off their jackets. They could let down their hair. They could take their time seasoning the food to get it all right. They could do all those things. Maybe even take a nap here and there after a long shift.
"It's Friday, right?" Sam asked, swinging the plastic fork around with a suspicious frown on the bridge of her nose.
Probably thinking the same thing as everyone else in the station but too afraid to actually say it out loud, Lucy surreptitiously fished out her phone and checked the calendar. She turned it around to show the glaring date at Sam and everyone else over her shoulder. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously as well.
Yes, yes, it was Friday, indeed. Friday night, in fact. Friday night, and they weren't constantly returning and heading out on a rotation, as any fire departments in the country were prone to do on this particular night. To be fair, Sam and Lucy weren't the only ones suspicious. Even Kara, who was probably the most optimistic of them all, was feeling a little strange this night.
But once again, they never said it out loud. Firefighters carried the same philosophy as trauma doctors; something that was too good to be true shouldn't be taken for granted. Never say the words out loud, and they should be fine. They should be able to play the Xbox for the whole night and not have to worry about a thing.
"Should it be this quiet –" Literally all of Station 15 released loud and unhappy groans as soon as the word left Nia's mouth "– on a Friday night?" Nia tapered off, clearly sensing that she'd said the wrong thing.
Lucy glared at Kara accusatively. "She's your newbie."
Kara threw her hands up. "Just because we get along doesn't mean she's my responsibility alone. She's our newbie," she complained. Taking pity on Nia's remaining confusion, she sighed and said, "We never say that word as a firefighter. No matter where you are, we just don't say it."
"What word?"
"No, I'm not saying it."
"Qui –"
"No!" everyone yelled, with Leslie oddly being the loudest, given that she was always sulking in a corner and mumbling under her breath.
In that instance, literally the very instance everyone breathed the tail end of a single-syllable word, the siren went off. Loud and invasive and completely uncaring for the few who had yet to finish their dinner. Through the intercom came the automated voice. Clear and monotone and totally unaware of the disturbance he had issued.
As the voice read out the apparatuses needed for this particular emergency – a five-car pileup – the firefighters heaved in disappointment at an oddly peaceful Friday night and began rushing towards the apparatus bay.
"The word, by the way, is 'quiet'," Kara informed Nia as they ran towards the bay.
After all, an emergency was already happening. People were already injured. The night was already ruined. There was no point in keeping up with the taboo.
The five-car pileup was very much worse than it sounded. Two cars on top of one another; Sam was still trying to figure out the mechanics of it all, since she was the captain and all. One car's head stuck into the back of the bottom car of the two cars. Another two had somehow wrapped themselves around the same tree.
People were crying. Blood was flowing like those slushie machines in a 7-11. Children were trapped inside one of the cars, quite literally losing air as the firefighters figured out some way to extricate the kids without hurting them further.
This was Friday night. Kara had seen her sum of terrible things in her five years as a firefighter in National City, but this was definitely one of the worst scenarios she'd ever had to show up for. Five years ago, Kara would have thrown herself at a bush and throw up her dinner, but now, she only braced herself, put on her Lieutenant helmet, and got to work, as per Sam's instructions.
Once she was sure that Lucy and James were figuring out the children situation, she headed over to the area where the people involved were gathered, sitting on the curb and nursing their various injuries. Kara didn't allow herself the luxury of sympathizing or pitying them; she wouldn't be able to do her job if she did.
Instead, she checked for pulses and instant reactions. She touched bodies and figured out what hurt and what did no. Next to her, Barry and Caitlin were doing the same thing. They couldn't allow themselves to sympathize or pity these people, even though as Kara heard a mother wailing in the back for Kara's colleagues to save her babies trapped in the car, she wanted to just head over and pry the door open herself.
An elderly gentleman had suddenly ended up seizing, grabbing the attention of basically everyone else at the curb. In the whim of the moment, because that was what EMTs did – in the whim of the moment – Kara deduced that the man had been trapped in the car for far too long, adding onto the weak lungs that his wife mentioned he had, leading to this seizure.
"We have to bag him," Kara authorized, gesturing wildly at either Barry or Caitlin to hand her the kit.
"That won't work," an authoritative voice said from behind her.
Kara stopped whatever she was doing, as did Barry and Caitlin, to turn around and find a woman standing there. Even under the darkness and the flashing lights of the fire engines and aid cars, there was really no mistaking that this woman was sculpted very carefully by the hands of the creators, if there was every such a thing.
Despite the urgency of the situation, she blinked a couple of times, unable to believe the sight before her. Silky black hair, albeit longer. Clean blouse and slacks, completely unlike the messy shirts and jeans that she was used to. Red lips, always, Kara wondered if it was still the same brand from Sephora. But those eyes, green and electric, they never failed in striking Kara to the core.
She gulped and took in the familiar vision before her, amidst the chaos surrounding them. And god, the last time she was so frozen in place with no words to escape her lips – the last time, she didn't like to think about the last time.
"Who are you?" Caitlin asked with a frown.
The woman looked away from Kara to her colleague. "Lena Luthor. I'm a doctor at NC General," she replied quickly and knelt down beside Kara. No, actually, she pushed Kara away, and the blonde just took it, sidestepping to allow the woman – Lena – to take her spot. "You said it yourself. The guy's run out of oxygen. Bagging him while he's seizing won't help. We need a thoracotomy."
"Are you insane? We're in the middle of the road!" Barry exclaimed.
Lena lifted her gaze at Barry with a mixture of disdain and disappointment, as if she couldn't believe someone like Barry could be a certified paramedic. She then returned her gaze to Kara, pinning the blonde down again, and rolled up her sleeves.
"You're in charge, correct?" Gone was the softness that Kara was used to, replaced by stiffness and professionalism that she had only ever witnessed directed to, well, people who were not her.
"Yes," Kara replied weakly.
"Emergency thoracotomy. Right now. I guarantee you right now, Lieutenant –" Lena addressed after having one quick look at the title printed on Kara's helmet "– this man will die if we don't do this right now."
It didn't seem possible, but the environment seemed to have gone hotter as Lena remained by her side, making it more sweltering under the turnout gear that Kara was wrapped up in from head to toe. She frowned and shook herself, forcing herself to ask, "Can I see some credentials?"
The doctor made a double-take at the demand. Kara could see in her defiant eyes that she was about to defy, probably claiming that Kara knew damn well that she was a doctor – a damn good one at that. Fortunately though, Lena huffily reached into her back pocket to fish out a badge that clearly stated that she was a trauma attending at National City General Hospital.
Kara couldn't help but notice the time stamp of the badge. Only acquired two days ago. Two days, and Kara had been lounging around at Station 15, having no knowledge of this woman's presence in her city. Two days, they'd been circling in each other's orbits.
Badge in hand and ignorant of all the eyes on her, she swiveled around to locate Sam in the crowd, clearly busy with all the other work that needed to be done. Logically, Sam, of all people, should know more about this than anyone else on the planet. And yet, for the past two days, she'd made no hint or clue about Lena Luthor coming to National City. None at all.
"Lieutenant," Lena snapped. "This man's life is hanging by a thread here. Thoracotomy. Now."
"Right," Kara replied and nodded, snatching the kit from Caitlin and laying it open. "I hope you know what you're doing."
"I always know what I'm doing," Lena scoffed.
Barry and Caitlin watched as Kara suddenly became Lena's assist. She dutifully followed Lena's instructions. Calming prescription. Scalpel. Disinfectant. Tube. Tapes. Lena talked, and Kara listened.
When the deed was done, the wife was wailing as her husband stopped seizing and started seizing again, even regaining consciousness for a couple of seconds before fainting again. They loaded him into the back of the aid car, followed by Lena and the wife.
"Did she just say her name's –"
"Lena Luthor, yeah," Caitlin confirmed Barry's incomplete inquiry.
"Lena Luthor, like the Lena Luthor."
"Lena Luthor, like the sister of Lex Luthor, Lena Luthor."
Kara didn't take her eyes off the aid car. Even as it rounded a block and disappeared from her sight, she stood there, completely unhearing of the screams and cries still going on behind her. It felt like déjà vu, except she suspected that it wouldn't much of a déjà vu if Lena was here to stay.
She clenched her jaw as her heart clenched itself. Yep, déjà vu. Shaking her head wildly, she swung back around and went back to the curb. Now was not the time to think about anything other than the people she still had to tend to.
Three hours later, the last of the victims were sent to NC General, the nearest hospital in their vicinity. The cars had been towed away. The roads were cleared. Everyone went back to their daily lives, none the wiser of the five-car tragedy that would turn out to be some long ass reports.
Kara had resigned herself to a long night of sitting in front of her laptop, helping Sam draft out the reports, because that was what Lieutenants and Captains did. That was the least favorite part of her job, to be frank. When she signed up to be a firefighter, she was into it for the action and the thrill of being at the very frontline; she didn't expect the paperwork that came with it.
But since she was already at the hospital with its myriad of vending machines scattered around, she might as well take advantage of it. Waving at Barry and Caitlin to head back to the station, she refused to enter the building, instead choosing to round the hospital from the ER entrance to the main entrance, where there was a coffee cart sitting just outside.
She purchased a cup of piping hot latte and was about to walk back to the station, until she saw Lena sitting on a bench just a few yards away.
Kara stood, rooted to the spot by the coffee cart, and hesitated in whether she should play blind or be the bigger woman, as they would say. Eliza would probably advise her to do the latter, while Alex would definitely urge her to run as far as she could. Or Alex wouldn't, since she didn't even deign to warn Kara about Lena coming to National City. Working in the same hospital as her, even.
Would she be able to take it? Could she walk away again? Did she want to walk away? All questions that Kara had no answer to. Not three years ago, certainly not now.
Before she could sanction, her legs had automatically brought her, slow step by slow step, to the bench. Before she knew it, she was standing there, towering over Lena, within talking distance without fear of the other not hearing them. She hesitated, but offered a small smile, to which Lena, thankfully, returned.
"Hey," she greeted, and found herself very glad that she did not choke.
Lena, the woman who made debate a hobby, didn't say a word for the first few moments, only staring up at Kara with her mouth slightly opened. And then she gulped and said, "Hey."
Say something. Anything. The rational part of her brain knew it would make most sense for her to keep the conversation going. But the petty part of her, the enamored and messy part of her, wasn't really sure how she could even keep the conversation, or if she would be able to handle it.
She opened her mouth, thinking that since she was in a habit of saying things before she could think them through, she might as well let the motors run in this situation. Except the motors were failing her, sputtering down the road with no grease, and she opened her mouth and had nothing to say.
She looked at Lena and she thought that she shouldn't have come here. She should have minded her own business and walked off the premises with her piping hot latte. There was absolutely no reason for her to walk over here and pretend that three years had been enough to soothe the complete chaos that she'd left behind.
That both of them had left behind.
Instead of walking away, she sat down beside Lena on the bench, though with significant distance between them. She extended the cup over to Lena, deciding that she could buy another for herself.
She shrugged when Lena turned curious eyes at her. "I know how much you like caffeine after a surgery," she remarked.
"Is this that horrendous oversweet latte that you tend to go for?" Lena asked, raising a brow.
"Always so judgmental," Kara complained with a playful frown. "Come on, just take the coffee."
After a moment of reluctance, the raven-haired woman ended up taking the cup anyway; of course, she blanched after having take a sip, but at least she didn't complain more or put the cup away. Small mercies.
Not another word was spoken. Lena's finger was relentless on the lid of the cup, wearing it away sooner or later. Kara made sure to look at the tree in front of them, though she'd admit that she stole glances at the woman once or twice. This was undeniably awkward, completely unlike the comfortable silences they used to find themselves in ensconced in.
There were reports waiting to be written back at the station. Sam was probably already slaving away while Lucy was teasing Nia for speaking the cursed word that got them all here in the first place. Not usually a superstitious person, but she did wonder momentarily if she could blame the newbie for her current awkward situation.
"Did you choose trauma or neuro?" Kara finally asked.
"Both," Lena announced, not without a huge sense of pride in her voice. Her smile was telling enough.
"Of course you did," Kara scoffed. "You just like to make things more complicated for yourself."
Lena made an affronted noise. "I like both, I can do both, so I chose both. What's wrong with that?" she demanded, her voice high-pitched, which was a big hint at her defense system rising up.
And Kara, well, she had never failed in rising up to the challenge when it came in the form of Lena Luthor, no matter how long it had been since they last saw one another. "Three years ago, you were complaining at me for –" she stopped herself short before she brought up bad memories and ruined the night further. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and adjusted her glasses.
"No, go ahead," Lena prodded, her voice stiff and low.
Kara looked up from her boots to be pinned in place by those goddamn eyes. She didn't like to admit weaknesses, but this woman in front of her had definitely been one of her weaknesses. Sometimes, she would have an inkling that Lena still was, actually, except she didn't allow herself the time or space to dig into that.
God, talk about a wrench in her plans to stay as far away as possible and banning even the slightest mention of Lena within her social circle.
She shook her head with a melancholic smile and stood up, hands still shoved in her pockets, because if she let them hang in the air, there was no guarantee that she wouldn't take Lena and airlift them very, very far away from here. That would be kidnapping, and Kara didn't condone that. Maybe a little, in this situation. She found that she'd condone anything when it came to Lena, even giving up her caffeine boost.
Gesturing vaguely around them, she asked, "Is National City permanent? Or just a stop?"
Lena offered only a shrug, deflating where she sat. "I signed a two-year contract with the hospital," she replied. "So I'll be here for two years, at least."
Their paths would be crossing for the next two years, maybe even more, because one of them was a paramedic and firefighter while the other was a trauma surgeon. Their paths would cross a hell of a lot more than she wanted, and Kara suspected, more than Lena wanted.
"Good to see you again, Lena," she offered.
"No, it's not."
Kara chuckled and nodded reluctantly. "No, no, it's not, Lena. But we will be seeing each other, like it or not." She sighed. "Did you know – who am I kidding? Of course you knew I'd be here."
"If you're gonna imply that I came here because of you, Kara –"
"No, no," Kara denied quickly, laughing to herself. "I'm not that big of an idiot. You've never allowed something as mediocre as a woman inspire you to do anything in your life. I know that firsthand," she added with a taste of self-deprecation. She didn't just know it firsthand; she knew it too well. This conversation was going nowhere, so she pointed a finger over her shoulder. "I should go. Reports to write. Naps to take. All that stuff."
Lena didn't say anything. She just lowered her head in…approval? Agreement? The last time they came to an agreement, they walked out of each other's lives.
Kara spun on her feet and walked away before she did anything stupid. Stupid like kidnapping Lena. Stupid like sitting down to Lena again and never do anything. Stupid like choosing to stay at this hospital to get a coffee, knowing full well that Lena would still be here, because Lena never did anything half-assed.
Honestly, she should have seen this coming. But she didn't, and ensued was an awkward conversation with underlying tones of resentment. For the second time in her life, she walked away in her life. However, she didn't swear once again that she would never think about Lena again. This conversation was proof enough that she wasn't strong enough for that.
Kara (1:46 a.m.): did u knw
Alex (1:48 a.m.): Know what?
Kara (1:48 a.m.): lena.
Alex (1:49 a.m.): What about her?
Alex (1:49 a.m.): Didn't you ban us from ever speaking her name?
Kara (1:50 a.m.): haha
Kara (1:50 a.m.): gud 1
Alex (2:04 a.m.): What is it?
Alex (2:15 a.m.): Kara, talk to me.
Alex (2:21 a.m.): Oh crap
Alex (2:21 a.m.): I swear I didn't know
The aid car and ladder were gone by the time she'd arrived to the station, which took her a 20-minute walk that barely gave her enough time to process everything that had gone on tonight. It seemed like Nia had jinxed them for the rest of their shift; she hoped that the young woman would learn her lesson for the rest of her career as a firefighter.
But apparently, it wasn't too big an emergency, as there was still quite a significant number of staff left in the station when she passed by the pantry, though Nia was notably absent. Lucy had presumably made sure Nia learned her lesson by planning to send her out on every call they got throughout their shift.
Winn, who was lounging in the entertainment room and reading a book, informed her that Sam was in her office when she passed by the room as well. Before proceeding to sit in front of her laptop for the rest of the night, Kara made her way into the locker room first and got a shower that was scalding hot, as if it would scrape away the lingering traces of Lena's stare and voice.
"Did you know?" she asked as soon as she strode into Sam's office, laptop in tow.
Sam looked up from her computer, caught off guard from Kara's interruption. At least she had the decency to look confused before realization came upon her, clearly shown in the guilt in her eyes and the way her mouth opened and closed repeatedly for the next few seconds.
Slowly, the brunette nodded. "Yes," she said.
Kara made her displeasure known by placing the laptop rather loudly on the spare table in the office and kicking at the chair so it would roll out from under it. The scowl on her face was perhaps telling enough, but as she'd been told, she liked to be dramatic.
It may be petty, but she took joy in the way the captain's face wince at every noise Kara made without actually making noise. And then Kara sat down and turned on her laptop. While waiting for it to boot up, she swiveled the chair around to face her superior who was also her sister-in-law. She tightened her jaw and crossed her arms, waiting for Sam to speak up.
"Alex doesn't know."
"She knows now." Sam winced again, probably expecting the doghouse Alex would be putting her once she got home. "Did you expect to keep it a secret forever?" Sam raised her brows and inhaled deeply, shrugging helplessly. "Are you kidding me?"
"She didn't want you to know."
"She works in the same hospital as my sister, who, I might add, is your wife!" Kara exclaimed.
"I told her that."
"We're firefighters. I send patients to that hospital regularly!"
"I told her that too." When Kara was about to launch into more useless explanations, Sam raised her hands to stop her. "I'll admit that she wasn't being very smart about this." Kara scoffed, shaking her head and crossing her arms again, because Lena was the smartest person she knew, even more than her sister and parents. "She's my best friend. I was respecting her wishes."
"I almost couldn't do my job out there."
"I really didn't know she was going to be there."
"You should have at least warned me that she'd be in the same city as us."
Sam sighed again, shaking her head and brushing her fingers through her loose hair. But she didn't say anything else, as if she knew that Kara's anger wouldn't subside no matter how much she justified herself. It would take time, and sooner or later, they would go back to being the sisters-in-law that they were, but for now, Kara just couldn't.
Not when she could hear Lena's voice so clearly in her head. Not when she could picture every fleck of jade in Lena's eyes without making a mistake. Not when she could remember three years ago so vividly in her head, all brought back by one single accidental encounter. Literally.
"I kind of can't believe that Lena Luthor is working in NC General now," Barry commented, all of them sidling out of the station at the end of their shift.
"I'm betting she's the youngest attending there now. Or anywhere," Caitlin added on.
"Where was she previously?" Winn asked.
"Metropolitan General," Kara cut in, her eyes glued to her shoes as she walked. "She took her MCAT at 20. Graduated Johns Hopkins one year early. Entered a residency program in Metropolitan General and never left. Double board certified in neuro and trauma. Oh, she was married for about two years after passing MCAT with flying colors," she rattled off, unable to stop herself, well aware of the wary gazes that James, Lucy, and Sam were sending her.
She paused her steps when it was apparent that the rest of them had stopped as well, all of whom were gaping at her.
"How do – how do you know that?" Barry asked.
Kara lifted her gaze to the sky, dark blue as the sun was still on its way up. Another day gone by, but what a chaotic one. What a wild one. What a day.
"I'm her ex-wife."
are you shocked? is it predictable? tell me all your thoughts, all the good and bad - i gotta decide whether this is worth continuing after all.