Chapter 9: ...At Last
"Dear Kara,
Last night, I had the most fun dream in a while. I dreamt about that wedding we crashed in South Beach that one summer. The one where you got dragged into throwing the bouquet in that beautiful sundress. Your eyes went so big they looked like saucers. You were mortified once you caught the bouquet, and I remember you wanted to hurt me when I got the idea to get down on one knee and propose to you in front of a bunch of strangers we were pretending to know. Everyone seemingly ignored the fact that they didn't know us because they were so excited about the prospect of another wedding, even a fake one. I remember you stepping on me on purpose while we danced because I essentially forced you to say yes, even though I still maintain it would have been funnier if you rejected me. You didn't talk to me all weekend until I got you potstickers. And I know this sounds like it's coming out of nowhere, but the bride, she saw me too. She seemed upset that I didn't have a wedding ring. I lied to her and said I was getting my ring professionally cleaned and that we're a family of 1.5 kids, that our daughter would be born in the winter. It seemed to brighten her day, but I honestly don't even know how and why that lie was so easy to come up with..."
"Grife," Mon-El mutters in frustration, violently tearing the pages out of the journal. Pathetic, his inner voice chastises him. Mon-El closes his eyes briefly, attempting to quell the frustration rising within him. However, a notification on his phone disrupts the moment, reminding him that he needs to get to work. He stands up, tearing the pages even further on his way to the kitchen, and tosses them into the trash, emitting a low groan of frustration as he hastily gathers his belongings on the way out.
"I don't..." Mon-El scratches his chin, his frustration evident. "I don't know how to express myself...in," he sighs and avoids meeting his friend's psycho-analyzing gaze. "in the journal," he finishes, still not looking up. "I've ripped more pages out than there are left and..." He frowns, "I..."
"Mike..." His friend interrupts him. "Mike?" She repeats, attempting to get him to meet her eyes. When he finally looks up, Kelly sends him a sympathetic smile. "A journal is for you to express yourself without the fear of someone reading it and holding it against you. Don't worry about it not being coherent or perfect. You aren't publishing it." She gives him a nudge with her hand, her coffee cup in tow.
"If you aren't sure you want Clara to read it, you don't need to give it to her... Just write Mike." She takes a sip of her coffee, keeping her eyes on him. She hasn't known Mike for as long as her brother, but James had brought him over to her house for a small get-together, and she thought he was a nice person, albeit a little lost and depressed. She meant to turn off her psychological brain, but she couldn't help it; there was deep pain in his gray eyes.
"I'm proud of you for taking up journaling." She adds after a brief period of silence, "It's a healthy medium to sort out all of your feelings and stop them from bottling up inside." She smiles at him when he looks at her again with big eyes and stands up with her coffee. "Unfortunately, I have a patient coming in, but keep me updated, okay?" She stops briefly, just looking at him from a higher vantage point, hoping to be slightly intimidating for him. So he's minutely afraid of not listening to her.
"Just write Mike." With that, she leaves him to his thoughts and departs.
Two burly men drag Kara into the dimly lit room, her kicks and screams echoing against the cold walls. The struggle within her begins to wane as her eyes lock onto Mon-El. Chained, bruised, with blood seeping through his shirt and a wounded leg, he looks both guilty and apologetic. Kara's desperate focus remains on the fact that he's alive. "Mon-El," she wants to say, to make him look at her, but he hangs his head, consumed by shame.
Forced into a chair, they attempt to bind her when, abruptly, the room plunges into darkness. Gunshots reverberate through the room, accompanied by distant shouts. The men restraining her release their hold, distracted by the chaos. Haven't had the chance to properly secure her, Kara swiftly frees herself.
The intermittent flashes of gunshots and shadows accentuate her urgency as she calls to Mon-El, crawling towards him in the murky blackness. "Mon-El! Can you hear me?" she yells, advancing cautiously to avoid injuring herself. His groans guide her as she moves in the right direction until her forehead gently collides with something solid, followed by a soft, pained "Ow."
"Sorry," she whispers, using the vague shape she bumped into, likely Mon-El's limbs, to pull herself back up.
In the limited visibility, Kara starts to inspect his body with her hands, attempting to assess the extent of his injuries. Her probing is interrupted by Mon-El's strained voice, "Kara...the ch-chains."
"Right!" she responds, biting her lower lip, and extends a leg randomly, keeping the other close to Mon-El, moving her arms in a circular motion, seeking the table with sharp objects. The ominous connotation of that is one she prefers to ignore. Yet, just as her hand brushes the tabletop, the lights flicker back on, and the gunfire subsides.
"Shit," Kara mutters, swiftly positioning herself in front of Mon-El as if shielding him from the impending danger.
The abrupt brilliance of multiple flashlights blinds them briefly, but familiar voices cut through the chaos—Alex and John. As the flashlights lower, Kara, relieved, directs them toward Mon-El. Alex rushes forward to assist Kara in untying Mon-El but pauses, laying her hands on Kara's bruised face.
"Kara," Alex starts, words tapering off as she notices the pattern on the bruise on her face. Kara gently shoves Alex away, refocusing on freeing Mon-El.
When the chains finally relent, Mon-El slumps forward, and Kara manages to catch him in time. Panic surges as she realizes he's lost consciousness. "Mon-El!" she yells, holding onto him tightly.
"Kara..." Alex whispers and reassures her that it's probably exhaustion as they bring Mon-El down to the ground. Paramedics arrive, and Kara, desperate, watches as they strap Mon-El onto a stretcher.
Yet, her attention swiftly shifts to Izzy, and without any warning, she bolts towards where John and the other agents went. A sudden pang of panic grips her when she realizes she had momentarily forgotten about the young girl amid the chaos. Relief floods her when she spots Izzy, seemingly unharmed and smiling, speaking to John. Kara rushes to her, embracing her in a tight hug. Izzy thanks her and conveys a mix of gratitude and guilt.
Meanwhile, John guides them outside, his determined strides cutting through the chaos. He demands two blankets for Kara and Izzy, ensuring they are being cared for. Once satisfied, he approaches the police chief, his posture reflecting both authority and a sense of urgency, ready to brief the authorities on the situation.
The paramedics' attention initially drawn to Kara, but she firmly waves them off. Her urgency to ensure Izzy's well-being takes precedence in her mind, and she insists they attend to the girl first. The air is filled with a mix of relief and tension, a testament to the whirlwind of emotions that has enveloped Kara in the aftermath of the rescue.
Kara turns to take in the scene of multiple flashing lights and the crowd of journalists and residents watching as agents escort a couple more people out of the building. In the midst of the commotion, her eyes fixate on Mon-El, who is being loaded into the ambulance. Panic tightens her chest at the thought of missing the chance to be with him in the ambulance.
"Wait!" she yells, her voice carrying a mix of urgency and desperation, an audible plea as she sprints towards them. Her breath, already ragged from the earlier sprint, now comes in harsh gasps.
As she reaches the ambulance, her legs give way beneath her, weakened by the physical and emotional strain of the past weeks. Despite the signals her body sends, urging her to rest, Kara pushes forward with single-minded determination. But the edges of her vision darken, and a wave of dizziness sweeps over her. In an instant, her strength evaporates, and she collapses, unconscious, right into Alex's worried and outstretched arms. The weight of the ordeal finally catching up with her, Kara succumbs to the need for rest, if only for a moment.
Kara regains consciousness in the hospital room, surrounded by the familiar faces of Eliza, Alex, John, Barry, and Winn. Her initial confusion gives way to a momentary panic as she sits up abruptly, a rush of dizziness causing her to grab her throbbing head. In the midst of her disoriented state, her concern for Mon-El resurfaces.
"Is Mon-El okay?" she asks urgently, her eyes widening. Before anyone can answer, she attempts to rise from the bed, eager to be by his side, but the wave of dizziness forces her back down.
John's reassurance about Mon-El's well-being and Eliza's stern scolding for her hastiness becomes a muted backdrop as Kara grapples with her desire to see Mon-El and her body's refusal to cooperate. The room continues to spin, and Kara's furrowed brows betray a hint of frustration.
As the dizziness gradually subsides, Eliza, adopting a motherly tone, advises Kara to take it easy due to nutrient deficiencies, emphasizing the need for proper rest. Kara nods, but her thoughts flutter to Izzy's well-being, prompting her to inquire about the girl's condition. Alex reassures her that Izzy is doing well, thanks to Kara's heroic actions.
Winn and Barry's presence here, rather than with Mon-El, raises some questions, and before Kara can voice them, Winn apologizes, and Barry expresses regret for not formulating a plan before her impulsive move. Kara sighs in acknowledgment, understanding their concerns. "Yeah, I know. Now go be with Mon-El. I don't want him to wake up alone," she instructs the boys, watching them as they exit.
John provides an update on the elusive Lilian Luthor, hinting at a discussion about future steps tomorrow. His words reflect a desire for Kara to prioritize her recovery.
"Kara," Eliza calls, capturing her daughter's attention, "Isabelle and her mother are waiting to speak with you. They're in the waiting area." Eliza steps out of the room to bring Isabelle and her mother, leaving Kara a moment to quietly observe Alex preparing to sleep on the couch.
The deliberate movements and firmness in Alex's demeanor reflect her determination to keep a watchful eye on her sister, perhaps anticipating Kara's inclination to make a late-night visit to Mon-El. Kara, feeling a touch of exasperation, rolls her eyes in response, a silent assertion that she's not a child in need of constant supervision.
Suddenly, Kara's attention is forcibly drawn back to the door as Izzy and her mom enter behind Eliza. A mix of relief and joy crosses Kara's face as she meets Regina's grateful expression.
Regina approaches Kara, taking her hand in both of hers, expressing profound thanks. "Thank you so much, Kara." Regina says, her eyes convey an eternal sense of appreciation as she looks back at Kara. She then turns to her daughter, holding Izzy's hand, and continues, "Because of you, I have my baby back." Regina tenderly kisses Izzy's hand. A surge of warmth fills Kara as she witnesses the mother's genuine love towards her daughter.
Despite initially losing hope, a call from Alex propelled Regina to rush from work to the hospital. Fortunately, Izzy will be okay; she just needs to follow a specific meal plan and make a couple of hospital visits. Kara, conscious of Izzy's improved condition, reflects a modest sense of accomplishment. She had played a part, along with an unknown woman who shared a cell with Izzy, in the young girl's recovery. "It wasn't just me. My friends and the FBI found us," Kara explains, a hint of humility in her tone.
However, Regina dismisses that notion, emphasizing Kara's crucial role in the rescue. "But you were the one who pursued it—the only one who would. They found her because of you," Regina insists. Kara nods, appreciating the acknowledgment, and genuinely pleased that the mother and daughter are reunited. "You're welcome," Kara says before letting out a yawn, followed by a chuckle, revealing a mix of exhaustion and relief.
Eliza interprets this as a cue for everyone to leave, herself included. She kisses Kara's forehead, promising to return tomorrow.
As everyone leaves, Alex, still visibly upset, hits Kara's arm. Kara winces, holding her arm. Alex's frustration is palpable. "You're lucky you're in that bed, Kara, because I'm so mad at you right now," Alex declares, crossing her arms and glaring.
Kara, not in the mood for confrontation, raises her hand to cut her off. "You didn't believe me, Alex. I don't want to hear it," she says, closing the door on the impending lecture. Alex warns that the conversation will happen, but for now, she lies on her makeshift bed on the couch, a clear sign of her determination to keep a vigilant watch over her sister.
Kara, despite trying to find comfort in the hospital bed, can only think about Mon-El. The realization that he's alive and with her overwhelms her. She never expected to see him again, to be able to tell him that she loves him. Now she can. As she gulps nervously, the thought lingers in her mind—now she can.
It's another game night, and Mon-El finds himself once again paired with Kara. Their winning streak, much to Barry and Winn's chagrin, has dominated the evening's games. Alex, absorbed in her time with her date, Sam, pays little attention to the ongoing competitions.
The last game of the night, Pictionary, proves to be a baffling challenge for Barry and Winn. Mon-El's seemingly random squiggles and Kara's immediate deciphering lead to yet another victory. Barry suggests it might be some strange telepathic-like connection. Winn in turn contemplates implementing new rules for fairness in future game nights. The idea of a partner-sorting hat is tossed into their discussion.
Mon-El, reveling in their triumph, lifts Kara and spins her around and in a jubilant mood, decides to express his joy by attempting to kiss Kara on the cheek. However, the kiss lands on the corner of her lip for a brief moment. Oblivious to the impact on Kara, he releases her with a theatrical "muah" before walking away to offer drinks to Alex and Sam.
Kara, standing frozen, experiences an unexpected shock. Her knees weaken, her heart races, and a warm, liquid feeling courses through her. The unexpected kiss leaves her in a state of bewilderment, unable to process what just happened. Alex's concerned touch on her shoulder brings her back to reality, the sudden jolt startling her.
"Wow, Kara, you okay?" Alex inquires, noting Kara's dazed state. Kara blinks, struggling to form coherent sentences.
Mon-El walks over to the women, offering the last potsticker to Kara, locking eyes with her. Alex can read Kara's expression loud and clear. It's the look of someone realizing feelings that have been apparent to everyone except Kara and Mon-El. Rolling her eyes, Alex decides not to intervene. It's a realization long overdue, and perhaps now, Kara and Mon-El need the space to acknowledge and explore the depths of their evolving feelings.
Once the others have departed, leaving just Mon-El and Kara in the aftermath of their game night, she approaches him by the sink where he's diligently washing dishes. A note of shyness tinges her voice as she ventures, "Uh... Mon-El? Uh...wh-why did you kiss me?" Her gaze falters, deliberately avoiding his eyes, and her words stumble out, accompanied by a visible heat rising within her.
Mon-El, momentarily puzzled, swiftly catches on to the tone, misunderstanding her inquiry. Reacting swiftly, he starts apologizing, concern etched on his face as he recognizes the possibility that he may have invaded her personal space.
"Oh my god, Kara!" He hastily shuts off the faucet, wipes his wet hands on his pants, and turns towards her, expressing sincere regret. "I'm so sorry," he apologizes, his voice laced with concern. "I shouldn't have done that. I invaded your space, and I'm so sorry."
His apologies continue in rapid succession, a visible sense of shame washing over him as he worries he might have made her uncomfortable. "I took it too far. I won't do it again," he promises, raising three fingers in a gesture of sincerity, "scouts Honor." He attempts a smile, hoping to lighten the mood, but the frown on Kara's face tells him that she still might be upset about the unintended kiss.
"Kara, I swear, I didn't mean to step over the line. This isn't an excuse, but I was in a good mood because I was having a great day, and we won, and I got Imra's number finally, and—" He starts to explain, but Kara's shocked interruption cuts through his words.
"What?" she says quietly, the realization hitting her like a blow. "Y-you're going out with Im-Imra?" Kara repeats, her heart breaking. The revelation hits her with unexpected force, realization dawning that he's going out with the 'girl of his dreams.'
Mon-El nods, a slow grin spreading on his face as he anticipates his upcoming date. "But!" he interjects, dropping the grin. Despite Mon-El's obliviousness to her internal turmoil, he reassures her that he won't go if she's upset. He takes her hands, looking into her eyes sincerely. "You're much more important to me than some stupid date," he declares, but Kara doesn't seem to hear him.
"I-I'm n-not mad," Kara says, her voice catching as she takes a deep breath and forces a fake smile, desperately holding back the need to cry, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.
Mon-El's smile reappears on his face. "So, do you forgive me?" he asks hopefully.
Kara lets out a very awkward laugh, her composure wavering. "It didn't bother me, o-of course you're forgiven," she says, playfully hitting his arm.
"Awe and some!" Mon-El exclaims overjoyed, raising his hand for a high five, which makes Kara chortle. They playfully high five. However, the moment he turns his back, the facade crumbles, and the frown returns to her face—disappointed and hurt. A tear rolls down Kara's face, and she quickly wipes it, telling herself to get ahold of herself. She likes Mon-El, but he doesn't feel the same way.
After a night fraught with restlessness, Kara resolves to visit Mon-El early in the morning, choosing to make the journey on her own. Attempting a stealthy departure from her room, she encounters a hurdle when her IV becomes entangled, hindering her exit.
With a sigh of reluctant acceptance, she lies back down, acknowledging the need to wait until Alex naturally wakes. Staring at the ceiling, Kara contemplates the words she intends to share with Mon-El, but the fatigue gradually overtakes her, pulling her back into slumber.
Abruptly, Kara is startled awake by the cold touch of a nurse's hand on her arm. Alex, alert and concerned, swiftly moves from the couch to Kara's side to ensure her well-being.
Kara, however, dismisses the concern with a sigh and reassures her sister, "I'm fine, Alex. Just caught off guard." Her singular focus is on seeing Mon-El; she can scarcely believe how close he is to her.
As the nurse departs, Kara expresses her immediate desire to visit Mon-El. Alex, though rolling her eyes, lends a helping hand to assist Kara in getting up.
As they enter Mon-El's room, the joyful sound of his laughter, mingled with Barry's, greets Kara and Alex. A smile graces Kara's face; she has missed the familiar cadence of Mon-El's humor and teasing.
Barry, turning away, discreetly wipes his eyes, suggesting a poignant moment shared with Mon-El. It seems Mon-El, in his characteristic way, used humor to assure the younger man that all was well.
"Kara!" Mon-El's exuberant yell fills the room, a massive smile breaking through the bruises on his face. "I missed you!" he declares, watching her own smile intensify.
Barry, recognizing the moment's intimacy, offers Mon-El and Kara a small, understanding smile before gracefully exiting the room. Meanwhile, Alex suggests assistance, but Kara confidently waves off the offer, determinedly navigating her IV towards Mon-El's bed.
Mon-El attempts to sit up, but the pain halts his movement. Kara perseveres, reaching him and tenderly taking his hand as she settles beside him on the bed. Her left hand ascends to his face, delicately tracing the contours, mapping out the familiar bruises and scars that tell a story of his journey.
The anticipation and longing for this moment surge through them both, palpable in the air. Kara, overwhelmed by the sight of him, by the reality of their reunion after months of separation, is moved to tears. Mon-El, witnessing her emotional response, softly calls her name in an attempt to capture her attention. However, Kara is immersed in the act of tracing his features, holding his arm close to her chest with her right hand.
His attempts to draw her gaze are gently interrupted by Kara, who, with a soft voice, inquires, "Where were you?" Tearfully, she raises her eyes to meet his, recounting the nights of anguish where she believed he was lost to her forever. The pain, the confusion, the torment—all etched across her tear-streaked face.
"I thought you were dead," she admits with a fragile voice, her eyes still absorbing every detail of his existence. "I would wake up at night, just staring at the ceiling, wondering how? Why you left?" The weight of her emotions spills out, and she glances down, shielding herself momentarily from the intensity of the memories.
"It didn't make sense. A-and it would eat me up at night because I couldn't fathom that you weren't here anymore, Mon," she confesses, biting her lower lip, closing her eyes against the pain. "You weren't here with me... I thought you were dead," she whispers, the words carrying the depth of her despair.
Witnessing her vulnerability and grappling with his own emotions, Mon-El whispers, "I am so sorry, Kara." In that shared moment of tears, unspoken words convey volumes, silently expressing the profound relief and overwhelming emotions that accompany their heartwarming reunion.
"I'm so sorry, Kara," Mon-El repeats sincerely. Despite the recurring urge to sit up, a reassurance that he's okay, his strength hasn't fully returned; his body remains groggy from the recent ordeal. "Kara," he implores, a deep yearning to reconnect with her, to extend comfort through words. She slowly raises her head, delicately releasing his hand.
"Come here," Mon-El invites, shifting to create more space in the bed. He lifts his arms, forming a sanctuary for her to seek solace.
Kara, sniffling, cautiously repositions herself to lie facing away from him, closing her eyes to shield against the fresh tears. Mon-El envelops her in his arms, promising to explain everything. "I will tell you everything, ok?" he assures, his words a soothing balm. "I just couldn't talk to you, talk to anyone I knew. I wasn't allowed," he confesses, unraveling the mystery behind his silence.
Careful not to disturb their IVs, Kara rotates to face him. His gaze meets hers as he pledges, "I will never leave you again. I-I promise." The sincerity in his voice resonates as he gently kisses her forehead. Kara nods, sniffles, burying her head into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around him. Mon-El eases both of them into a more comfortable position, adjusting with his back against the bed.
His arm remains around her shoulder, rubbing up and down in a soothing rhythm. Another tender kiss lands on her forehead, accompanied by a heartfelt sigh, "I missed you so much." Kara shifts her head up, nose against his chin, absorbing the familiar warmth that brings her a sense of peace. She closes her eyes, focusing on his calming breath, drifting into the embrace of sleep.
As consciousness slips away, she hears Mon-El uttering those three words, "I love you," echoing in her heart, a promise that now feels more tangible than ever.
3 chapters and epilogue left
