this may be one of the shortest fics i've ever written, but i just had to, after seeing all the onset pics on twitter

now, read, ponder, and enjoy!


I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. Listen to me – I am your echo. I would rather break the world than lose you.

-Amal El-Mohtar, This is How You Lose the Time War


Lena Luthor died on a Thursday. It was written in the papers. It was announced by the President of the United States. It was talked about in text messages and phone calls. It was a fact: Lena Luthor died on a Thursday.

But the rest of it? Well, there were some facts, there were some extravagant tales, and none of them came from those who experienced it, who saw her die, who truly knew her and mourned her. The people – the public, the military, the agencies – weaved a lot of rumors about Lena's death, and no one corrected them.

"Supergirl killed her."

They said that Supergirl killed Lena Luthor. A Super and Luthor, no matter how good they had been together, would never be able to work well together at the end of the day. Their agendas would diverge and they would fulfil the prophecy: that one would kill the other. Set in stone.

"Maybe Lena Luthor wasn't so bad."

They said that Lena Luthor had repented. Yes, she did venture into a bout of bad actions on a good premise, but in the end, she repented. She sacrificed herself to make sure her brother could never take over the world. And while she was doing that, she didn't forget to pull Lex with her, because as long as Lex was alive, there would always be trouble.

"Lena Luthor had always been a hero."

They said that Lena Luthor had always been good and she was a hero, even though they had been the ones to keep her under surveillance for fear that she would go down the wrong road, even though she'd proven to them time and time again that she was good. She had been working undercover, slipping information to the heroes while painting herself as a villain. And in the end, Lex found out and killed her in cold blood.

They said a lot of things about Lena Luthor. It seemed to be her lot in life, to be talked about, to be the subject of rumors, to be at the receiving end of either admiration or contempt.

But regardless of whatever they said, there was one thing in common. Always. An indisputable fact.

And that was that when Lena died on a Thursday, Supergirl was there. In all versions of their stories, it always ended with Supergirl holding Lena in her arms, silent tears flowing from her eyes. The very personage of sorrow. Supergirl, regardless of her feelings for Lena in their stories, was always loyal to Lena.


Supergirl retired on a Saturday. Well, it wasn't so much a retirement than it was a complete disappearance. Two days after Lena's death, Supergirl was never seen on the face of the earth again.

It was the biggest mystery to ever come across National City since Supergirl appeared in National City. There was something rather poetic about it, that both her appearance and disappearance served as the most enigmatic things to happen in National City.

"Pretty sure she's running a bakery now."

They said that she had been seen in a bakery on a street two blocks away from CatCo Media, standing behind the counter in an apron and bright smile on her face. But she had always denied her persona as Supergirl whenever a brave little girl or boy asked her about it.

"She died two days after Lena Luthor."

They said Supergirl had been gravely injured in the battle with Lex. But she was Kryptonian, while Lena had only been a human, so it took the blonde a little longer to succumb to injuries. After Lena's funeral, she had flown off somewhere and died in solitude, never to be seen again.

"It's a broken heart."

They said Supergirl had been in love with Lena Luthor, always and unrelenting. It didn't matter how Lena died – Supergirl killed her or she sacrificed herself, the story worked either way – what mattered was that the Kryptonian had fallen for Lena and never fell out. And the moment Lena died, Supergirl suffered from the greatest pain she had ever felt.

Of course, much like any other day, they said a lot of things about National City's sweetheart. But a story wasn't a story without a clinch, and the clinch was present in all the stories.

On the day of Lena's funeral, Supergirl was there. At the morgue. In the cathedral. At the cemetery. In the tomb. Never once did she leave Lena's side, and never once did she allow anyone else to carry the casket.

She was the witness. She was the pallbearer. She was the last living being to see Lena to the end of her road. And then Supergirl disappeared.


Ireland was teeming with greens and empty lands. Surrounded by sea and violent waves, barred only from strong and tough cliffs that wouldn't relent to their calls.

Away from the politics and the constant war that emerged with the likes of vigilantes and supervillains, sat a cabin in an isolated field in the Burren region of County Clare. Only nine miles away from the Cliffs of Moher. Around the cabin was a garden, overgrown with vegetables and flora, and a small farm, well-tended with poultry and livestock.

The nearest town was a 30-minute drive away, but the occupants didn't mind the drive. They appreciated the peace and quiet most, where they would while away their lives without the distractions they used to have in their previous lives.

"If you touch Hen Solo –"

"You did not name the chicken."

"So what if I did?'

"You're ridiculous."

"I get to be ridiculous now."

The blonde put down the pail and made her way to her wife, who was standing by the truck. She encircled her arms around the waist of the raven-haired woman and beamed, all too loose and joyful, but she deserved it, she thought.

"Yes, you certainly do," Kara whispered before leaning down to place gentle peck on Lena's lips, which the woman gladly accepted. "Fine, I won't touch Hen Solo," she whispered.

"Thank you for your generosity," Lena remarked, though not without a smile.

Looking at the way her wife smiled, Kara was all the more glad that they had made this decision in the midst of their final battle together. To beat the big bad. To save National City once more. To lift the multiverse out of an impending crisis.

She had been doubtful at Lena's suggestion initially, because she loved National City, and the Lena she knew was the biggest workaholic in the history of workaholics.

But then at the end of it all, when Kara was bone tired – not just from a war, but from all the fights she had fought through in the years she had done this – and Lena was lying in the med bay, hanging by a thread, Kara decided to go with it.

Because as much as she had failed to see it before, wherever Lena went, Kara would follow. It was written in the stars, by some asshole who probably thought it was fun to throw them together like this, instead of a normal meet-cute at a cinema or something.

And so, Lena woke up, hellbent on abandoning it all and moving to Ireland to have a life of her own, and Kara followed. Because it was written in the stars. Not that Kara had any regrets or anger towards the notion. Who could say no to Lena Luthor?

"How's the foundation going?"

Just because Lena left her company didn't mean she left her kindness behind. She carried her heart everywhere, and part of it was poured into a foundation she had left in Jess' hand. The Lena Luthor Foundation, with only the aim to help, no matter who they were.

"I should give Jess another raise."

"I think that's up to Sam to decide."

"I should ask Sam to give Jess another raise."

Behind them, a cow mooed, as if it had had enough of Lena and Kara's lovey-dovey antics. Kara chuckled and pushed Lena against the back of the truck – the cow would just have to bear with them.

"We haven't had sex in the back of this truck for a while," she remarked, raising her eyebrows.

Lena rolled her eyes. "You know, six years ago, I wouldn't have pegged you to be such an insatiable individual."

"We both know I do the pegging."

At that, Lena guffawed. Like, absolutely loud and ugly kind of guffaw that she never would have let anyone in National City if she was still the CEO of a multinational conglomerate. But she wasn't, so she could laugh as loud as she wanted and as much as she wanted.

Kara did not mind it one bit. She loved every single facet of Lena, even her ugly laugh. Kara found it to be the most beautiful thing she ever had the privilege to witness.

"Your sister's arriving in an hour," Lena pointed out, even though her hand was already reaching for the latch to bring down the hood.

"I can do a lot in an hour," Kara murmured, her eyes already hooded at what was to come, pushing Lena gently to get on to the back of the truck.

Lena's following guffaw was quickly swallowed by her lips, eventually devolving into a sensual moan that never failed to send shivers down the blonde's spine. And she proceeded to do ungodly things to her wife for the next hour, even scandalizing Alex when she'd arrived approximately an hour later.

Sure, they were no longer in National City. They were living under false names in a country that had no idea the power these two people held. But all those things weren't important. They were happy. That should be enough.


"Are you sure?"

"I'm done. This – it will ever stop coming. And I can't – I can't find it in myself to save it for the rest of my life."

"I think you would."

"You're right. I think I will. But I almost died at my brother's hands. And if that's all there is to life, then what's the point?"

"So, Ireland?"

"Yeah, I'm going to Ireland."

"I'll come with you."

"Really?"

"Lena, wherever you go, Kara Danvers will always follow."


:D