Chapter VIII
It's the third twilight since Kara has surfaced from her delirium, now stretched languidly across the couch with her gaze fixed on a documentary about penguins. The soft fabric of the couch cradles her while Lena's lap serves as a pillow for her head. As Kara sinks into comfort, her eyelids flutter closed, and a sigh of deep contentment escapes her lips. Lena, her attention divided between the medical journal in her hands and the woman beside her, massages Kara's neck with an absent-minded yet methodical grace. She alternates between kneading the tense muscles and delivering light, feathery scratches that send shivers down Kara's spine. This tender torment renders the documentary little more than background noise, stirring a turmoil of emotions within Kara. Should she sit up, severing this sweet agony, or does Lena harbor the same tumultuous feelings that she does? Could there be any other reason for Lena's constant, almost magnetic touch, drawing them together even in the depths of sleep? Kara knows she should consult Alex, her confidant in times of confusion.
"You're thinking too much," Lena's voice breaks through, a melodious chuckle woven through the words. Kara can practically hear the smile dancing on Lena's lips, that uncanny perception piercing through her veiled thoughts. "Maybe," Kara murmurs in response, the word hanging in the air as Lena resumes her reading, her fingers tracing delicate patterns across Kara's forehead before resettling on the nape of her neck. A yawn escapes Kara, signifying the enveloping peace of the evening, reminiscent of floating above the city's heartbeat, untethered and serene. Lena, sensing Kara's descent into slumber, feels the weight of Kara's weariness; the remnants of illness still clouding her vitality. Lena pauses to reply to Alex's inquiring text about Kara's well-being, then returns to her gentle ministrations. In these moments, Lena discovers a newfound joy in feeling Kara relax under her touch, shedding her armor and the mantle of Supergirl to simply become Kara, sighing into the comforting cadence of Lena's touch. Lena exhales softly, pondering how much time might pass before Kara trusts her enough to unveil her deepest secrets.
As the clock's hands march onward, Kara begins to stir restlessly after twenty minutes, her fingers tensing and her face contorting with discomfort. Despite Lena's attempts to soothe her with gentle strokes and whispered comforts, Kara's restlessness escalates. Moisture gathers on Kara's cheeks, the tactile evidence of her turmoil. "Kara, wake up. It's just a dream," Lena whispers, her voice a soft caress against the tension. But Kara's response is garbled, her words lost in the haze of her nightmare until she bolts upright with a heartrending scream. Lena's heart fractures at the sight; Kara's eyes wide with raw panic. "May I touch you?" Lena asks, her voice a tender whisper as her hand hesitates before reaching out. Kara nods, her eyes clouded with the remnants of her dream. Lena draws Kara closer, her arms enveloping her in a tight embrace as Kara succumbs to sobs that shake her body. Time dilates as Kara's breathing gradually calms, and Lena continues to stroke her back soothingly. Another eternity passes before Kara drifts back into sleep within the safety of Lena's arms. Lena checks the time—it's past 11 PM. Gently, she lifts Kara, cradling her to the bedroom as a guardian of her rest.
As Lena carries her, Kara awakens to find herself nestled against Lena's shoulder, her lips perilously close to the pulse at Lena's neck. A sigh escapes her, stirring the fine hairs there into gooseflesh. Lena's heartbeat accelerates, a visceral response that Kara feels rather than hears. The proximity ignites a primal desire within Kara to erase the lingering shadows of her nightmare with a kiss. She presses a light kiss to the throbbing vein, feeling Lena's legs wobble slightly beneath her. "Kara..." Lena's voice trembles, laden with a cocktail of emotions as intense as the gaze that meets her own. The depths of Kara's blue eyes hold storms and stars, pulling Lena into their orbit. Slowly, Kara advances, each millimeter charged with electric tension as her gaze flits between Lena's inviting lips and stormy eyes. Lena yearns to surrender, to transform the anxiety between them into bliss beneath her fingertips, but the timing is wrong—too charged, too swift. Retreating a step, Lena sees the mix of confusion and disappointment flicker across Kara's face, a silent testament to her feelings. "Lena... I'm sorry..." Kara begins, her voice choked with emotion. Lena gently presses a finger to Kara's lips. "Shh, don't apologize," she soothes, the silence hanging between them filled with unspoken words. "Do you want to talk about your dream?"
Kara is engulfed in confusion and irritation, a storm churning deep within her soul. She desires nothing more than to obliterate the haunting memories of her dream, to drown them in alcohol or lose them in the oblivion of transient pleasures. With a dismissive snort, she brushes past Lena and strides back into the dimly lit living room, her path lit by the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the windows. Her steps carry a silent fury as she heads straight for the sanctuary of Lena's well-stocked bar. Just as she reaches for the crystal decanter, about to pour herself a double vodka, she feels the gentle but firm touch of Lena's hand on her arm. "Kara..."
Startled, Kara whirls around, her face a canvas of raw emotion. "WHAT, LENA? What do yoi want from me? You don't want to have sex with me, I can't drink, so what do you want? WHAT DO YOU WANT TO HEAR, LENA?" Her voice, thick with rage, fills the room, radiating from her very essence. Yet, Lena stands unwavering, her eyes steady, peering into Kara's tempestuous blues with a resolve that speaks of battles fought and won. Lena's gaze does not falter as she meets the storm head-on.
"What, Lena? What do you want to hear? Do you want to hear that the horrors of war haunt my dreams? That I'm angry with myself? That the blood of hundreds of soldiers stains my hands? That I hate myself for every life I couldn't save? That the horror and panic won't let me go? That some days I can barely breathe? That I feel like I'm drowning in fear? That the darkness has taken hold of my soul, and I don't know if I'll ever find my way back to the light? That I'm powerless? Weak? Alone? Broken?" Kara stands defiantly, her body tensed, her breathing ragged, the wet trails on her cheeks glistening in the low light. Lena remains silent, absorbing the torrent of Kara's despair.
"Well, I knew it, no one, absolutely NO ONE wants to hear that." Kara's voice breaks as she turns away, desperation clawing at her, urging her to flee. But Lena's gentle grip tightens, anchoring her in the storm.
"But I do, Kara. I want to hear it. I will be there, in your anger, your fear, your worries. I won't leave you alone in this darkness, and I will help you find your way out of it," Lena declares with a soft, unwavering intensity. Her thumbs caress Kara's tear-streaked cheeks, each touch a promise of steadfast support. "You are not broken, Kara. You are hurt, you've seen terrible things, you have the right to grieve, to be angry, but you mustn't numb your feelings. We have to embrace the pain, welcome it and accept it as part of us. You are not weak, Kara. You are the strongest person I've ever met. You are good, you are pure, and you are so much more than what the public sees."
The reassurance in Lena's voice cracks the dam in Kara's eyes once more. Tears surge forth, born of fear, anger, and worry, as though all hope is being washed away. She cries with a heart-wrenching intensity, her sobs echoing through the quiet room. Kara falls into Lena's open arms, clinging to her as if her very life depends on it, as if she would shatter into a thousand pieces without Lena's embrace. Lena's own tears mingle with Kara's, a silent testament to the depth of their bond.
"You will never be alone again, Kara Danvers," Lena whispers softly, a vow filled with infinite tenderness.
"Zor-El. Kara Zor-El," Kara murmurs, her voice a whisper of her true self. Lena smiles, a gesture filled with love and understanding, and gently pulls back. She tenderly wipes away the tears from Kara's cheeks, each touch a kiss of solace. After kissing the last tears away, Lena rests her forehead against Kara's, their breath mingling in the silent room. "Let's go to sleep, Kara Zor-El Danvers. It's been a long day." Lena savors the full weight of Kara's name on her tongue, a name that speaks of strength and vulnerability intertwined.
Well, well...the secret is out;-)