Come Undone 2/2
Weeks had passed since that awful night.
Cat took a sip of her whiskey, looking out into the city at the end of another long workday. She leaned against the balcony railing, losing herself to thoughts of Kara, as was becoming a habit.
Kara was Supergirl. She still couldn't believe her own naivety. Of course she was. Cat had thought so all along, but then she'd seen Kara and Supergirl in the same room. They had literally been in front of her. So she'd chosen to go with her head, instead of her gut. She'd been an idiot.
Kara had almost died. Something about a Kryptonian virus that had lodged itself into Kara's brain after an attack by some creature, making her lose control of her powers. That part Cat knew first hand. The whole experience was right up there with the scariest nights of her life, after all.
Cat took a deep breath.
After Kara had been taken down, and choppered out of the building, she herself had been taken to the DEO headquarters to get treated. She'd been lucky—just a few scratches and a broken arm. Kara hadn't been as lucky. She'd been put into a coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down, after they'd removed the kryptonite bullets from her body that is—a quantity of bullets that could have killed her, apparently. But Kara was strong—"Strong will to live," the doctor had said, taking pity on her after she'd refused to budge from outside the operating room for several hours. What a cliché, she'd thought, even as she'd held on to his every word.
Everything else was classified, top secret. Need to know basis only, and according to the idiots in the DEO, she needed to know absolutely nothing. She'd been politely escorted out of the facility after being forced to sign an NDA. On her way out she'd passed by Superman, who was being rushed into the lab. She overheard someone mention a blood transfusion, but that was all she was able to find out. She was clueless, exhausted, and in pain by the time she was dropped off at her home well into mid-day the next day.
The one saving grace was that Carter had been spending the night at his father's the night before, so he wasn't there to miss her in the morning. Martha the cleaner, on the other hand, had shrieked when she saw Cat limping into the house dressed in ripped clothing and looking like a disaster victim.
"I'm okay," she'd said, squeezing the woman's arm in reassurance. "Just another night in National City."
The following week had been frustrating. It was a miracle that no one had camera footage of the whole thing. Or that if they did, it never saw the light of day. That was the good thing about the DEO agents, Cat discovered—they knew how to cover things up. By the time the CatCo employees came to work the next morning, half the floor had been draped off and work had already begun on the re-building process. Or rather, renovating, as her employees had been told—another one of Cat Grant's extravagant whims.
For someone who found solace in her office as much as Cat did, the total destruction of the space had certainly been a loss. But there were worse things in life, things like not knowing whether someone she cared about was going to make it through the night.
And although Alex had responded to Cat's update requests with her very informative texts—"She's stable"—"No change"—"Still stable"—Cat was driving herself mad with worry. When was she expected to wake up from her coma? Would there be permanent damage? But no, her simple questions went unanswered. Had it been anyone other than Kara's sister she was talking with—a sister who was probably worried about Kara just as much as Cat was—Cat would have brought down some destruction of her own in the face of such unresponsiveness. Cat could certainly become a monster when she wanted to, but she wasn't that much of a monster. Still, she found Kara occupying most of her thoughts, on and on. So much so that getting on with her days was proving to be a challenge.
She knew she was bordering on ridiculousness when she found herself wandering the halls, sneaking glimpses at Kara's computer friend Wayne. Surely he would be exhibiting signs of upset if there were bad news.
After the third time she'd done it, the boy had had the gall to call her out on it. "Is there anything I can do for you, Ms. Grant?"
"Did I say there was?" she'd snapped, never one to enjoy being questioned.
"Sorry," he'd said, turning quickly back to his computer.
She'd stormed off, feeling silly. Why was she trying to maintain Kara's cover anyway? It was obvious that the boy already knew Kara's real identity. They were best friends, after all. But then again, what if he didn't? She'd been working with Kara for almost 3 years, and she'd had no idea.
On the tenth day after the incident, she asked James to stay behind after the morning meeting.
"Ms. Grant?" he'd asked after the moment of silence lasted too long.
She hadn't known quite how to broach the subject yet.
"James, your friend in blue, does he happen to have any news on Supergirl?"
James seemed surprised by her question. He glanced around, making sure they were out of earshot. "She's fine, Ms. Grant. Back home resting. I thought you knew."
"No," she said, clearing her throat, trying to keep her composure, "No, I wasn't aware."
"She's okay."
He was confident, his voice calm and reassuring. Cat wanted to punch him.
"You've spoken to her?"
"Yes. Kara is, well, you know…"
Her eyes snapped up. So he knew that she knew.
"How long?"
"What?" James looked confused.
Patience thinning, she removed her glasses and punctuated each word as though talking to a child, "How long has she been out of the coma, James?"
"Two days."
"Very well." She waved her hand in dismissal, reaching for her papers. For something to do other than look into James Olsen's pitying eyes, because obviously she was an open book now.
"I'm sure she'll get in touch with you when she's ready, Ms. Grant."
"That'll be all, Mr. Olsen."
That had been three days ago, and still there was no Kara. Maddeningly, she had been forwarded an email from the HR department—an email not even addressed to her!—letting her know that Kara would not be coming in for the rest of the week. Cat knew for a fact that the girl had enough time banked to take the whole month off if she wished to.
She couldn't help but take Kara's absence personally, especially since Supergirl had been all over the news the last couple of days, back in action stopping robberies and putting out fires as per her usual. By all accounts, she looked like nothing had happened. Just one time Cat had seen her falter on screen.
She was lifting an empty school bus that had plunged down a hill on the side of a road. Thankfully, the kids had all been out of the bus when it happened and were now watching her, most filming her on their phones, giddy about being so close to their hero. Supergirl had tried to lift the bus, hovered a few feet off the ground, and set it back down. She'd laughed it off, saying, "That's what happens when you skip breakfast. Anyone got a doughnut?"
All the onlookers had laughed along with her. One of the kids had offered her half of her sandwich, which Supergirl ate happily, making for great television. On her second try, she'd easily lifted the bus up so high that all the kids had clapped in excitement. To anyone watching, it looked like Supergirl had done the whole double-take on purpose to teach kids about the importance of a healthy breakfast. Cat knew better. And though it made her skin crawl to think of Supergirl at anything less than 100%, Cat also knew that she looked much better than the last time she'd seen her.
It was none of her business anyway. Well, other than her actual business, that is. With each passing day without a word from Kara, Cat felt more and more like a fool. Why was she wasting her energy worrying about Supergirl when Supergirl obviously didn't even care enough to let her know that she was doing all right?
Cat had obviously overestimated the importance of their relationship. Even as she thought it, she couldn't help but feel the stab of regret in her stomach. If only she hadn't pushed Kara into Adam's arms. If only she'd been a little nicer to Kara, a little more forgiving and a little less professional.
She sighed, feeling heavy with shame.
Maybe the girl would have trusted her enough to tell her she was Supergirl. Maybe Kara would have come to her from the moment she'd started feeling unwell and Cat could have convinced her to see a doctor. She was certain that she could have made a difference because Kara listened to her—even as Supergirl she had listened to her. Cat was used to people doing what she ordered, but unlike others, Kara didn't do it out of fear, but out of a deep sense of belief in Cat. Kara trusted Cat. And at the first sign of trouble Cat had broken that trust—shut her out like she was an unwanted guest in her house. No wonder the girl was staying away. If only Cat had been a better person, a softer person perhaps, they might have avoided this whole mess and Kara could have been there right now, at her desk.
Every morning she could be the one greeting Cat with her bright smile, making sure everything ran smoothly in the office, anticipating her every need before Cat herself realized that she needed anything. Instead, Cat was stuck with Siobhan—Siobhan with her perfect outfits and boring obedience—Siobhan who had turned out to be less than impressive without Kara there to make up for her shortcomings.
But then again, ifs and maybes never helped anybody. Cat Grant hadn't risen to be the Queen of All Media—God, she hated Johnson for coining the term—by doubting herself.
No, she was Cat Grant, the most powerful woman in National City, the woman who had named Supergirl for crying out loud, who would have done pretty much anything to help Kara if only she had asked her. And if Kara couldn't see that,
if Kara didn't even trust her enough to tell her the truth about who she really was, to at least pick up the phone and let her know that she was fine after almost scaring her to death—if Kara didn't care enough—if Kara didn't care…
She took another sip of her drink, exhausted. She wasn't used to feeling so unsettled.
It was getting chilly—she should really go back inside, she thought, and give up on this waiting. Because though she'd never admit it out loud, a part of her knew that she was waiting—hoping Supergirl would show up on her balcony, like she used to before all this happened.
It was ironic, really, that just as soon as she thought of Kara showing up, she had that familiar feeling of being watched.
She took a calming breath, put her glass down, and turned around. "Kiera."
Kara had been flying over CatCo for about 20 minutes, trying to find the courage to land. This wasn't the first night she'd done this, but this was the night she was going to actually go through with it. Yes, it was.
Cat was on her balcony again. She looked like herself—hair made up to perfection, pantsuit fitted just right, make-up natural and sophisticated. She also looked tired, Kara noted. There were bags under her eyes that hadn't been there before. Kara wondered if she was sleeping at night or if she, too, was staying awake trying desperately to turn off her mind.
It didn't take long for Cat to sense Kara's presence once she touched down.
"Kiera," she acknowledged, her voice cool and closed off. Kara winced. So they were back to that again.
Cat crossed her arms in front of herself, despite the cast that must have made it difficult.
"Ms. Grant," Kara said, feeling defeated already.
"I see you're feeling better."
"Yes, I…yes."
She was feeling better physically, getting better every day, but emotionally she hadn't felt this out of place since she'd landed on earth.
"I wanted to apologize to you for what happened," Kara said. "I never meant for you to get hurt. It was the last thing I ever wanted."
Cat looked at her blankly, making Kara fidget under her gaze.
"How is your arm?" Kara asked, her stomach twisting with nerves. "Is it very painful?"
"It's fine."
"Good, good, that's good..." Kara said, absentmindedly twisting her cape between her fingers. "And your office, I see the new decorations are looking real pretty."
The DEO had paid for it—something about superhero insurance. Too bad it didn't cover re-building relationships.
Cat raised a single eyebrow.
"Not that it wasn't pretty before," Kara said, tripping on her words in her haste not to be misunderstood. "It was beautiful, and I know that it was really important to you and I'm really sorry I ruined it."
She felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff—like any wrong move could provoke Cat to push her right off. Kara would have preferred Cat to get upset with her, shout at her maybe. But this Cat in front of her was the one that scared her the most—the unreadable one.
"I'm also very sorry about lying to you," she said after a moment.
Cat took a sip of her drink, playing with her glass, making the ice swirl in it. She didn't look up when she said, "Were you ever going to tell me who you were?"
Kara ducked her head in shame. She wanted to think that she would have. Maybe one day, but she couldn't be sure.
Her hesitation was enough of an answer for Cat. "I don't know how you pulled off the double act. I suppose it doesn't matter now," she said, disappointment dripping from every word.
"You don't understand—the people who know who I am end up becoming targets. I'm not going to lose any one else I care about if I can help it!" She hadn't meant to sound quite so frustrated. She sighed, reminding herself that this wasn't about her. Cat deserved an apology.
"Even if that means lying to them?"
"Yes, of course," Kara said. "Your safety is more important to me."
"I still don't appreciate being lied to, Kiera."
"I know that, and I'm sorry for lying, but I'm not sorry for trying to protect you. Don't you think I wanted to tell you? Every day I'd come so close to just blurting it out, but I couldn't. Not when I knew the danger it would mean for you, for Carter…"
Cat looked up at the mention of her son, her features softening slightly.
"Not that I was able to protect you, in the end," Kara admitted, feeling herself deflate.
Cat looked like she wanted to say something, but Kara didn't really want to listen to all the ways in which she'd failed her. She was deeply aware and ashamed already, and in all honesty she didn't think she could handle it just yet. So, she carried on speaking; she was there for a reason, after all.
"Anyway" —she forced a smile— "I just wanted to come down and give you this."
Cat's eyes locked onto the envelope Kara was holding up. She made no move to take it.
"It's my resignation letter," Kara explained.
"I see," Cat said, sounding colder than the north wind.
Kara waited for her to say something more, but all Cat did was look away. So this was really it then. Cat wasn't even going to put up a fight. Not that Kara had expected her to.
She turned towards the city, looking at all the lights, the people. This balcony had been a safe haven for her, and it was obvious that she was no longer going to be welcome there.
Kara didn't want to leave like this. "I was supposed to take care of my baby cousin. That was the mission my parents gave me, when they sent me to earth." She remembered her mother's last words as clearly as if she'd heard them the day before. She could feel Cat turn to her, her curiosity getting the better of her, despite whatever else she might have been feeling. "But then my pod got knocked off course, and by the time I landed here, he was a grown man—Superman. He didn't need me." Kara smiled sadly.
She took a moment, fighting her instinct to hide. She wanted to leave Cat with something real. She owed her that much.
"He placed me with a family—a great one. Things could have been worse, really. I could have died with my parents, with my planet, or just stayed in the phantom zone forever. Instead I was alive, and healthy. I had a sister who was my best friend and foster parents who loved me. They treated me like one of them—like I belonged. In time, I think I started believing that. And I grew up thinking that maybe, just maybe, I could have a normal life. Naïve, right? A job, friends, maybe even a relationship with someone I cared about some day. I know better now," she said, trying not to sound bitter.
She dared glance at Cat, who was watching her so intensely that Kara had to take a moment to breathe before carrying on. It felt like Cat was trying to see right through her.
"I want you to know that I always felt the calling to help people, that was always there beneath the surface…I guess I was just afraid." She swallowed, her lips dry. "When I came here and started working for you, for the first time in my life I felt like I was making a difference. You were mean, and bossy, but you were also incredible—strong and fair and brilliant."
Kara smiled, thinking of the first time she'd seen Cat on her game. It was a regular stand-up meeting, and Cat had been so sharp, her aim so perfect, that Kara's heart had sped up just watching her work. Everything about her had said that she'd built this empire from nothing and she was going to protect every inch with everything she had.
"You were changing the world. And if I could make your life just a little bit easier, even if it was just by getting you an extra hot cup of coffee in the mornings, than I was helping you do that. You taught me so much in my time with you, not just about work but about life as well. I want to thank you for that, Cat. You were my hero long before you taught me how to be one."
"Kara—" Cat said, her voice breaking with an emotion Kara couldn't name.
"I understand if you never want to see me again. And I wouldn't blame you if you were afraid of me, but maybe, a while from now, I could drop in to see you from time to time," Kara said, daring to hope, despite telling herself over and over that she wasn't going to do this. "It doesn't have to be often, just every now and then, maybe?"
Cat sighed, wiping her cheek with a single finger.
"I thought this job was important to you," she said, suddenly challenging.
"It is. You know it is. This place" Kara whispered, meaning you, and my friends, "makes me feel human."
"Then why are you leaving?"
"You said it yourself, every minute that I'm here playing assistant, someone out there could be saved."
Cat took a step closer. "That's not why."
"The DEO needs me, I can be useful there." Kara said, feeling like she was walking on quicksand.
"Kara," Cat said, her tone chastising.
"It's what I want."
"No, it isn't."
"It is," Kara insisted, "it'll be better for everyone."
"Then why are you crying?"
She looked up in surprise. "I'm not," she said, bringing her fingers to her face—but they came away wet.
"Kara." It was the gentle way Cat said her name—the warmth, the caring in her voice—that finally broke her. She could feel her lips trembling as a fresh flood of tears rushed down her cheeks.
"I can't," she gulped, choking on her words, "I can't…"
"Can't what?"
"Hurt you again."
"Oh, Kara." Cat's hand lifted. She came over slowly, trying not to spook her, giving her enough time to pull back, to run away if she wanted to. But Kara didn't want to run anymore.
Cat cupped her face and sighed, wiping off her tears just as she'd done that horrible night.
Kara clutched Cat's fingers, holding them against her face desperately—she could smell Cat's perfume on her wrist, feel the softness of her skin. She closed her eyes, getting lost in her touch. She could hear the rapid thump of Cat's heartbeat. In the end, she couldn't help herself and turned into it, trembling like a leaf as she kissed the inside of Cat's palm—knowing that she was crossing a line.
Cat gasped at the contact. Kara found herself moving into Cat's embrace, desperate to be closer.
"Kara," Cat rasped, putting her hands up as though suddenly afraid of touching Kara, "what are you doing?" Her voice was hoarse. If Kara didn't know any better she might have said that she sounded afraid.
Kara held very still, not wanting to scare Cat away. Instead of replying with words, she slowly very slowly lowered her head in submission, dropping her forehead to rest on Cat's shoulder. She wasn't going to do anything that Cat didn't want, but if this was going to be the last time she saw Cat, then she was going to at least show Cat what she meant to her.
Kara breathed her in, not moving an inch, getting lost in her scent. She felt like she could live here—in this spot where Cat's shoulder met her neck—forever.
Finally, finally, Cat's arms came up to rest around Kara's shoulders. It was all the encouragement Kara needed. Her nose grazed the side of Cat's neck as she gently, very gently, lowered her lips to Cat's skin. Kara could feel Cat's fingers digging in as her hold tightened on Kara's back. Kara made her way higher, nuzzling all along Cat's neck. Cat's breathing was getting heavier with each passing moment, her pulse running wild under Kara's lips. Kara felt weak at the knees.
When Kara lingered too long on a particularly sensitive spot right below her ear, Cat made a noise that went straight between Kara's legs. Cat's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her back just enough to look into her eyes. She held her still, just a few inches from her mouth. Kara felt dizzy with want. Cat's eyes were lidded, holding a dare more than a question.
Whatever it was she wanted from Kara, the answer was always going to be yes.
Maybe it was the hitch in her breath that communicated that fact because in the next instant Cat's eyes were darkening with intent. Her lips parted, drawing near. All Kara could see were those lips as she herself leaned in, more than willing to meet Cat half way. They moved closer and closer until finally they were breathing the same air. Kara's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest as she tilted her head. Her eyes closed on their own accord, the last inch between them disappearing until—
The balcony door opened. They sprang apart so fast that Kara almost fell off the balcony with her speed.
James stood with a hand on the door, frozen in shock.
"Sorry," he said, "I can come back later."
Cat cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "What do you need?" she said tightly, her hands adjusting her clothes.
James kept his eyes on the floor as he answered, "I have the latest layout."
"Right. I'll meet you in your office in 5."
James looked up in surprise, as did Kara. Cat didn't go to other people's offices, they came to her.
"Sure," he said, giving Kara a parting glance. "Supergirl," he acknowledged, walking back inside. He sounded jealous.
"James." Kara sighed, looking sheepishly at Cat.
There was nothing between Kara and James any more. All they'd ever had was potential. Potential to be something more, but they'd been too slow and then while Kara wasn't even looking, Cat had happened. And now Kara couldn't even feel bad about hurting James.
Cat slumped down onto the arm of the couch, watching Kara carefully. She sounded quiet when she said "Why didn't you call to let me know you were okay?"
Kara tilted her head, confused. "I thought you knew. Alex said that you'd been in touch."
"Barely."
"I didn't call anyone, Cat. I wasn't myself, I needed time to—I needed time," Kara said, thinking about the days after her coma. She'd been so weak, in every sense of the word. For a while there, even the simple act of sitting up had been a challenge. It'd taken days for her powers to kick back in and even then she'd barely been able to look at herself in the mirror. Going over and over what had happened in Cat's office. How she'd lost control and become the worst kind of threat. Her powers in the wrong hands were worse than dangerous. And they had been in the wrong hands—hands that couldn't control a thing.
The worst part was that it could have been avoided. If only she'd made the right decision instead of the wrong one. If only she'd been to the DEO to get checked out like Winn had insisted. She'd acted like an immature child. Maybe she didn't deserve the powers bestowed upon her, maybe she wasn't worthy. It had seemed like she wouldn't be able to get out of bed for weeks, tormented by self-doubt, and she might not have if it hadn't been for Alex. Alex who'd broken down and tried to take on the responsibility of Kara's actions. Because it was her fault Kara hadn't been to the DEO, she'd said—her fault because it was Alex who'd killed Astra and let Kara think J'onn had done it.
Kara looked up, pulling herself back into the present. Cat was watching her silently.
"I didn't even know you wanted me to. I thought you hated me," Kara said quietly.
"You called James."
Kara's eyebrows lifted in surprise. Cat was upset that she hadn't called her. She almost sounded jealous.
"No, I didn't," Kara said, a smile blossoming on her face. Before Cat could get annoyed she sat next to her on the couch. "He called me," she shrugged. "After about the 5th missed call, I figured I should answer it."
Cat gave her a side-look, pursing her lips haughtily, but Kara could see that she was satisfied with the answer.
They sat in silence for a long moment and then Cat stood up, motioning towards the office. "I should get back."
"Sure," Kara said, feeling her stomach drop.
"Deadline."
"Right."
Kara got up as well, watching Cat walk away.
"Cat," she said before she could stop herself, reeling with a million questions.
Cat looked back, sighed into the stretching silence. After a moment, she bent down to pick up the envelope Kara hadn't even realized she'd dropped. She looked up at Kara and very purposefully ripped the letter in half.
"But you said—" you'd fire me, Kara remembered.
Cat waved a hand in dismissal, cutting Kara off as though she could hear what Kara was thinking and had decided that it wasn't relevant anymore. "I expect to see you at your desk bright and early tomorrow, Kiera. I think you've taken enough time off work, don't you?"
Cat's words were commanding, and yet Kara could still hear the uncertainty in them, the question.
Kara felt her chest expanding—breaths coming in easier suddenly. Cat wasn't accepting her resignation. More importantly, they'd almost kissed and she wasn't sending Kara away. Kara was sure the time for talking would come, but for now, she had the answer she needed: Cat still wanted her around.
"Of course, Ms. Grant," she said brightly, her feet lifting off the floor and her cape whipping in the wind behind her.
Cat's lips twitched into the smallest of grins. The glint in her eyes as she watched Kara fly away was enough to get Kara's blood rushing to her cheeks. It was almost midnight, but Kara felt as warm as if the morning sun was shining on her face.
She soared through the sky, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time. The future was full of possibilities.