i stole a line from the crown. bragging rights to anyone who spot it.

now read, ponder, and enjoy!

There was familiarity infused with the smell that invaded her nostrils. She would know – she spent her career inhaling it, almost like a perfume that everyone abhorred. The noise as well, it was known. Rhythmic. If she focused, she still wouldn't understand, because EKGs were fucked up.

But this was all very familiar. And she was, for the lack of better word, comforted by it all. If this was death, then at least she was in a place she knew well, a location she dwelled as her life purpose. If this wasn't death, well, as much as EKGs confused her, the beeping noises only meant that she was alive, despite Mr. Miller's best efforts.

Movies and TV shows often depicted hospitalized people to be very confused individuals, uncertain of what had occurred or where they were the moment they regained consciousness. They were lies, or maybe Lena was just an outlier.

Even before she opened her eyes, she was very aware. She was conscious of everything that had led up to this moment. The act of courage – or perhaps foolishness – that she had pulled to ensure that a boy, who never asked for a monster as a father, was safe. She hoped it didn't all go to waste.

The morphine was working exceptionally well though. No ache or flaring pain in her stomach, which was where she was sure she had been shot at. But experience told her that once it all wore off, once the surgeon had deemed her well enough to not need it, it would all come back to her like a fucking bitch.

It was a blurry patch when she finally opened her eyes, albeit blurry patch of nothing but white ceiling, but she could tell that it was blurry. It took a moment for everything to clear up, only for a redhead to invade her vision, much like a redhead did when she had passed out.

"Oh god, Lena," Alex whispered, one hand brushing her hair tenderly. "Hold on, I'll get the rest. I'll get my mother as well."

Right, her mother – Eliza Danvers – the best general surgeon on this side of the hemisphere, except he didn't work in National City, let alone in this hospital. How did she get here? Why was she even thinking these things? Oh god, will someone take her place as the best neurosurgeon in the country?

"Do not close your eyes, please. Hey, listen to me," Alex urged, still brushing her hair with one hand while the other was holding a phone to her ear. "Lena, hear my voice. Just don't – Kara, Kara, come here right now."

Okay, so the fact that Alex was panicking was just confirmation that she didn't die. Wonderful, though maybe not so wonderful once the morphine wore off and the pain set in. But for now, yeah, wonderful.

That meant that she wouldn't die with just one date with Kara – well, one date after their divorce and an attempt at repairing their relationship. And believe her, after that one bout with the grim reaper, everything was clear to Lena now. Crystal clear.

But for now, though, she was just tired. She had no clue how long she'd been out of it, probably a medical induced coma for a significant while, judging by Alex's reaction. Still, she was so tired. Maybe it was all catching up to her, and regardless of how long she'd been asleep, it apparently wasn't enough.

"No, Lena, no, come on."

Sorry, she managed to mouth, and promptly relented. And before she knew it, the white ceiling was gone and it was all black.

The next time she opened her eyes, it wasn't to white ceiling. It was to – oh – there she was.

Kara Danvers, all blonde and handsome, drabbed in a pale blue hoodie that she had stolen from Lena all those years. In spite of the wooziness in her consciousness, the raven-haired woman couldn't help but grin at the sight in front of her. Or above her. Whatever.

For a moment, Kara was frowning deeply, her cheeks wet and hair clobbered up in a messy bun, seemingly unwashed for a very long time. But then the next, a gentle smile stretched across her lips, all relieved and tranquil, as if this was the moment she'd been waiting for.

"There you are," Kara breathed, reaching out to cup her cheek, and god, it was so warm and homely. "I've been waiting for you."

It took a little longer than she would like, what with the hoarse throat and morphine, but eventually, she managed to say, "The second amendment is bullshit."

Kara heaved a watery chuckle and closed her eyes tightly as she leaned down to place a long, long kiss on Lena's forehead, hand resilient on the fallen doctor's cheek. "God, you scared the shit out of me," she whispered once she'd drawn back and leaned their foreheads together.

Lena hummed in pleasure, nowhere close to rejecting the affection. "Kara Danvers curses now?" she replied in a whisper of her own, even though they were the only people in the room, save for the beeping of the heart monitor she could hardly understand.

"Babe, I'm gonna curse at you so badly once you recover," the blonde promised.

"Water before that, please."

"Oh, right." Kara stood upright and Lena didn't even try to not groan at the loss of their closeness. She watched as her ex-wife poured a glass of water from a jug, placed it on the bedside table, helped Lena sit up, and handed it to her, attentive and gentle throughout. "Why are you the bravest woman I've ever known?"

"It's the Luthor gene," Lena offered once her parched throat was quenched.

"Are you in pain?"

Lena shook her head. "The morphine's doing exceptional."

Kara narrowed her eyes. "You're high, aren't you?"

"A little."

"I'll call Eliza."

Lena nodded, understanding the procedure and making a note to query as to how Eliza ended up here. "Okay," she agreed easily. "I – can you stay though?"

Kara looked down at her after pressing the button above the bedframe, confused for a moment. And then she smiled again, sitting at the edge of the uncomfortable mattress and placing her hand on Lena's cheek again, stroking her neck with her little finger. God, Lena didn't understand how she went three years without this.

"I'm never leaving you."

It sounded like a promise, but Lena didn't want to hope too much. Being too hopeful would only break her heart, she had learned that the hard way.

But this was nice. This little statement, spoken in a quiet room in a building permeating with death and sickness. It wasn't exactly a promise, but given the state she was in, having someone with her – a person she couldn't ever bring herself to stop loving no matter how much she convinced herself otherwise – was better than nothing.

"Your brother cried."

"Excuse me, mother."

"Your father almost had another heart attack."

"I can't believe my wife is a tattletale."

"I bought your ex-wife coffee."

At that, Lena raised her eyebrows, partially amused at her family's antics and mostly curious at her mother's declaration.

Upon seeing her conscious, Kara was finally convinced to at least head home for a couple of hours for a much-needed shower and a short nap – preferably an entire night of sleep if she could manage it. And that left Lena with her family, who had been wise enough to know to return to their hotel every night for the past week and looked decent.

For the first time since her divorce, Lillian took the initiative to wrap Lena in her arms for a prolonged moment; a mother hugging her daughter whom she'd thought was one step into the afterlife, if that even existed. Lena was surprised for a bit, but eventually she learned to accept it.

"You also smoked one pack a day," Lionel admonished.

"And Sam told me she heard you throwing up in the washroom," Lex continued.

"Okay, so you are all tattletales," Lena offered, a weak smirk on her lips.

"It's the Luthor gene," the rest echoed.

They laughed for a little while, finding light in the aftermath of a grim situation. Gradually though, they all sobered up, and fear made its way to her family's eyes, a shadow that seemed to have lingered for the last seven days.

Lillian sat one side of Lena's bed while Lionel sat on the other, and Lex was holding Lena's chart like it was a lifeline, telling him all he needed to know about her condition. Physically, at least. This was a family of medically trained geniuses, and they liked nothing more than facts, and her chart had all the facts.

"I forbid you from being so brave again," Lillian demanded, quiet but stern, as if her words had any effect at this stage of Lena's life. "I want to see you marry Kara again."

Lena blinked rapidly and scoffed. "What on earth –"

"A mother is never blind."

"We – mother."

"Just don't go and jump in front of a gun again, let alone an assault rifle," Lionel interjected, shooting his wife an adoring look before giving Lena an admonishing one. "You are the jewel in my palm, Lena. I cannot afford the loss of you."

"It's like I'm chopped liver," Lex grumbled, his knuckles white from his tight grip on the chart.

"Find me a daughter-in-law as nice as Kara, and then we'll talk."

"Father," Lena complained, leaning her head back and wishing that she was still in a coma.

"My point is that –" Lionel brushed a palm over his bald head with a trembling sigh "– if by doing this, you wanted me to imagine for one minute what life would be like without you, you've succeeded." He looked deep into Lena's eyes, clear but sorrowful. "It would be unbearable."

"Seconded," Lillian offered.

"Thirded," Lex added.

Call it the morphine, call it the post-gunshot clarity, but Lena couldn't help the tears that sprang to hear eyes and trailed down her cheeks.

She had known – always known – that her family loved her, and she loved them, even though they had odd ways of showing it, like tattling on one another and pranking one another at important events and not speaking to each other for months on end and teaching each other to smoke.

The four of them were never overt in showing their affection. It simply wasn't their way nor their upbringing. It wasn't the Luthor way. In fact, Lena had only learned to take initiatives with hugs and kisses when she met a certain blonde who swerved the trajectory of her life, but she loved these people all the same.

This, regrettable as it was, may be one of the few times – if not the first – they were so obvious. So blatant and upfront of how much they cared for her. And she simply didn't know how to take it in without being a blubbering mess. All she could do was incline her head and sob into her mother's shoulder.

As the door opened, Lena expected a lot of people, from Alex to Kara – she was quietly hoping for Kara, but last she heard, the woman was dead asleep and Lena would rather she got the rest she so desperately needed. What she hadn't expected was Eliza Danvers, wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around her neck.

They hardly had the chance to talk earlier when the older woman came in to check on her, what with everyone else scrambling to catch up with her and smother her with their concern, not that she didn't appreciate it. But here they were, former in-laws, alone after such a long time.

"It may be the morphine, but I'm certain that a three-hour interval isn't common for rounds," Lena offered with a careful smile, uncertain of how she should act around this woman.

Eliza chuckled and made her way to sit down on the vacated chair, deliberately ignoring the chart that Lex had finally managed to replace at the foot of her bed. "I didn't come here as a doctor. I'm here as a friend."

"Is that what we are?" Lena asked before she could stop herself.

"I, for one, sure do hope so."

Three years later, Eliza still had that kindness on her aged features, as if she didn't have a bad bone in her body. She had been welcoming when they first met, and she seemed welcoming now. Lena didn't even think that was possible for a human being.

Hell, when she and Kara saw each other again, the tension was strong and they basically sniped at each other without yelling. It took time and a lot more yelling for them to resolve their issues and be where they were now, a precipice of something Lena couldn't predict.

"Did I miss something or have you always been working at this hospital?" Lena asked.

Eliza relaxed in the chair. "Alex called me." Lena tilted her head. "Your surgeon had been Dr. Lord. Alex doesn't trust him, as you know, so she called me. I was here as a consultant at first. A concerned friend, if you must. But then you hemorrhaged on the next day after your emergency surgery, and I came into the scene, because even a surgeon as arrogant as Lord is, he knew when it was out of his expertise."

"And the chief approved it?"

"We're close," Eliza explained with a shrug. "You – you flatlined on my table."

"What?"

The older woman nodded hesitantly and crossed her legs. "It was a lot of blood. You flatlined for like two minutes. And in those two minutes, I –" She cut herself off and looked away from Lena. "I've never seen Kara so scared. And I was scared, because what do I tell my daughter if the woman she loves had died on my table? Will she ever forgive me?"

"Eliza, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. It was very brave, what you did. And I am very proud of you," Eliza said with a proud smile. "Even though we hadn't seen each other for three years."

Lena wondered what it was like. To have someone you knew on your operating table and be responsible for their life. She had never experienced that before, though she imagined it wouldn't be easy. The weight of that responsibility would probably crush her.

"Did he make it?"

"Who?"

"Charlie," Lena offered.

"He's safe. The police apprehended his father. I think his mother is filing for divorce now."

"Well, then, it's worth it."

A laugh escaped Eliza's throat and she stood up. "Don't be a stranger, Lena Luthor. Not again."

"It was good to see you again," Lena offered sincerely.

"Likewise."

National City General Hospital was a well-established hospital, having stood for only a little less than a century. As well-established as it as, Lena hadn't spent much time exploring the premises, what with being a neurosurgeon and trauma surgeon. Much of her time had been sprinting between both floors and studying up cases and napping in the on-call room.

Now that she wasn't a surgeon but a patient instead, she found herself understanding why patients had always been in such bad mood when they were confined to their wards. It was driving her nuts, just sitting in bed with nothing to do. People had brought books and kept her phone charged, but god, this was the worst, and probably the one thing that convinced her to never get shot again.

When Eliza had finally cleared her, she didn't even hesitate to ask for the wheelchair, as much as she hated it. She was determined to wheel herself to the garden if she had to, but Kara had readily taken up post behind to wheel her out, keeping her word of never leaving Lena.

"My god, fresh air," Lena appreciated once they were out in the garden.

Kara chuckled and placed a hand on Lena's shoulder from behind. "Congratulations, Dr. Luthor. You're, technically, a free woman." They strolled for a few moments before Kara stopped by a bench, sitting down. "You know, I'm supposed to be the one with the dangerous job here," she joked, or at least attempted to, but Lena could spot the vulnerability on her face.

"I'd do it again."

The firefighter sighed and lowered her head, reaching out to clasp Lena's hand on her lap. "I know. I know you would."

"I could do without the getting shot at, but –" Lena paused, vividly remembering the events that had led her to this moment, specifically the vitriol on Mr. Miller's face and the fragility that Charlie didn't deserve. "He's just a boy."

"I know."

Kara leaned forward to rest her forearms on her thighs, holding Lena's hand to her mouth. Not kissing it; more like an act of touch, a desperation for reality, a reminder of where they were now, as compared to where they were a week ago.

She was always one to wear her heart on her sleeves. Lena had simply chosen to ignore the signs a few months ago, pretending that she couldn't see the yearning that was practically etched into the blonde's features whenever they looked at each other. And right now, the lingering fear remained in the hook of her nose and the frown of her lips.

"It'd be hypocritical of me to ask you to never do this again, wouldn't it?" Kara whispered, resting her chin on Lena's knuckles.

"Yes."

"I thought so."

"Do you know what my first thought was when he shot me?" Lena offered, raising her brows. Kara shook her head, prompting her to continue. "I didn't feel any pain – I still don't remember any pain. I felt like I was getting punched, but oddly, no pain. But I – you were there, yelling my name. And I was complaining to myself that I couldn't believe that we only got that one date before I died."

"You didn't die," Kara groaned, emotions rising in her voice.

"Okay, Kara, okay," Lena soothed. "I'm just saying…I couldn't believe we only had that one date." Kara gulped audibly and kissed Lena's knuckles desperately. "I'm sure I'll feel a lot of pain once the morphine wears off."

Already, pins and needles were encroaching upon the bandaged wound and the soreness in her hips was unmistakable. Soon, she would be wishing she never jumped in front of that rifle in the first place.

"I'll be here."

"You can't be here all the time."

"Watch me."

"Kara," Lena pronounced gently. "I won't forgive you if you don't do your part in saving the world."

"I just – I need to look at you," Kara said stubbornly, her eyes blinking rapidly, as if uncertain of how else she could express her apprehension of not being by Lena's side at all times.

But Lena understood. She got it like no one else. She had spent a majority of their relationship being worried about her girlfriend, fearful of the possibility of getting a call that one day, telling her the worst news she could ever hear.

"Alex will be here. Your mother will be here. You trust them, don't you?"

Kara hesitated, but nodded eventually. "Can I just stay with you one more week though? Sam already approved my leave. Let me look at you more. If not for you, then for me. I only want to see your eyes and make myself believe that you're awake."

Well, it wasn't like Lena would ever say no to that. She was a selfish person and she wanted to look at Kara too, despite how much she'd resisted that urge only two weeks ago.

"Okay." Carefully and gingerly, she extended her arm to place her hand at the side of Kara's head, brushing her fingers through golden strands tugged into a half-knot. "I dreamed about us, you know." Kara stared at her curiously. "The day we first met, our first anniversary as a couple, your proposal – I dreamed about it all." She sighed and relaxed in her chair, groaning slightly at the soreness that spread with her movement. "I don't know how I ever thought I could forget you."

Kara's eyes widened. "Lena."

"I can't say it…yet," Lena said with an apologetic grimace.

"That's okay." Kara sat straighter and looked into Lena's eyes. "I'll say it for the both of us. You don't ever have to say it again if you don't want to."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I want to say it though."

A wet chuckle escaped the blonde's throat and she moved to the edge of the bench so their knees would slot together, bringing their foreheads together. "We have all the time in the world, Lena." Oh, those freckles, Lena had forgotten about those freckles. "I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

Without even a hint of hesitation, Lena nodded and leaned forward before Kara could, slotting their lips together.

One week ago, it had tasted like coming home, an oh-there-you-are moment. This time, it was less like coming home and more like floating. A sense of clarity that Lena hadn't felt in three years, an oh-this-has-been-it-all-the-while moment. Lena imagined all kisses with Kara would bring with them a realization that she would enjoy, and she couldn't wait.

"I love you," Kara whispered against her lips.

Yeah, this had been it all this while.

a lot of dialogue in this one, but i couldn't think of another way to move the story forward

i'm thinking maybe two more chapters before i end it, but god knows - this brain is fucked up

also, is supercorp canon or canon? we all agree on this right?