Kapitel XI
As Alex strides into the quaintly bustling bistro, her gaze sweeps the charming scene, a tapestry of casual diners and whispered conversations. Her eyes are drawn to a secluded corner where, beneath a cascade of dim, amber lighting, she spots Kara. Memories cascade like a vivid tapestry—their meeting here nine months ago is etched into her mind, a somber tableau of a once indomitable spirit now cloaked in despair. Back then, Kara had seemed a shadow of herself, her powers freshly stripped, leaving her crumpled like a discarded cloak at this very table. Her eyes, once vibrant portals to her soul, had dulled, shoulders bowed under an invisible yoke of grief. The acrid tang of alcohol lingered around her like a bitter aura, the dark circles under her eyes stark against her pale skin, stark symbols of her inner turmoil.
But today, the air around Kara sparkles anew, her life's color vivid once more, fueled by the presence of Lena Luthor. Alex's lips curve into a smile, witnessing the resurgence of Kara's vivacity—a phoenix risen from ashes. The transformation in Kara's demeanor is profound; love has not just visited but has taken residence. Kara and Lena, united for five months now, share a bond that has blossomed into a deep, soulful connection. Lena, typically ensconced in the icy veneer of a corporate matriarch, melts into a pool of warmth under Kara's gentle influence. The mere brush of Kara's fingers or a tender smile eases the tension from Lena's shoulders, her corporate armor dissolving into vulnerability.
In Lena's presence, Kara finds her own fortress crumble. The formidable force she embodies as Supergirl or Commander Danvers softens, tempered like steel in the forge of Lena's embrace, malleable and yielding.
Shaking off the tendrils of nostalgia, Alex advances to the table and wraps Kara in a warm embrace. They settle into the rhythm of sisterly conversation, the words flowing as freely as a river. Alex recounts a recent security breach at the DEO—a thankfully thwarted intrusion into their systems. Kara shares snippets of domestic life with Lena, hinting at the possibility of finding a new apartment. Though she has all but moved in with Lena, they haven't formalized the arrangement, and Kara treads this ground with careful hope.
Their dialogue meanders through various tributaries—Alex discusses her burgeoning relationship with Kelly, and Kara recounts a heartfelt visit with Eliza. As the minutes weave into hours, the inevitability of departure looms. They part with a sense of closeness renewed, Alex returning to her duties, heartened by the transformative power of love in Kara's life—a reminder of the profound shifts that affection and commitment can engender in the human spirit.
Kara steps into the gentle embrace of the late summer sunshine, opting to traverse the distance to Lena's apartment on foot. The day, with its tender breeze and soft sunlight, seems tailor-made for introspective journeys. As Kara ambles through the streets, a casual glance at her hands reveals a scar, a silent testament to a harrowing epoch when she was stripped of her powers. This mark not only recalls a period of vulnerability but also symbolizes the profound sanctuary Lena has become in her life.
With thoughts of Lena warming her heart, Kara's lips curve into a spontaneous smile. She pulls out her phone and sends a simple red heart emoji to Lena. Reflecting on the past week, she remembers how each evening had been a rescue mission, retrieving an overworked Lena from the depths of the L-Corp offices at 11 PM. Despite Lena's feisty protests, fatigue would claim her, sending her into a deep slumber within minutes of reaching home. Each night, Kara had tenderly carried Lena to bed, a ritual that had become a cherished part of their daily lives.
Today, however, promised a deviation from the routine. Lena had vowed to leave work early, stirring a flutter of excitement in Kara. Intent on crafting a small surprise, Kara decides to swing by Lena's favorite gelateria for some ice cream. Just as she slips on her sunglasses, savoring the anticipation of the day's simple joys, a harsh screech of tires brutally interrupts her reverie. A sudden, sharp blow to the back of her head sends her tumbling into darkness, the last fragments of her consciousness catching the urgent declaration of a man's voice, "We've got her, let's go, go, drive fast!" before the world dissolves into oblivion.
Meanwhile, Lena glances at the clock in her sleek, modern office—the hands point to 6 PM. Her meeting concludes, and she methodically processes a final email and provides succinct instructions to her assistant, Jess, before shutting her laptop with a click. The past three months have ushered in a new rhythm to her life, one marked by a significant reduction in work hours and an increase in leisurely weekends—the most she's ever enjoyed. Tonight's agenda with Kara, to order dumplings and nestle together for a movie marathon, was a plan she cherished deeply. Lena had committed to wrapping up her workday by 6 PM to honor their plans. Although she's running slightly behind schedule, she reassures herself that the short elevator ride to their shared apartment would compensate for the delay, confident in Kara's understanding and forgiveness.
Lena steps into the quiet expanse of her apartment, the air still and empty. She calls out for Kara, her voice echoing softly off the walls, but the silence that answers back is unsettling. Concern nips at her nerves, and she reaches for her phone to try calling Kara, only to be met with the immediate flat tone leading to voicemail. She fires off a quick text, hoping for a swift reply, and then decides to shower, thinking perhaps Kara is simply out of reach for the moment.
As the clock ticks toward 7 PM with no word from Kara, Lena's casual concern morphs into genuine worry. She sends another message, this time reaching out to Alex, hoping for reassurance:
"Hi Alex, how are you? Is Kara still with you? She hasn't come home yet, isn't answering her phone, and hasn't replied to my messages."
Meanwhile, Alex's phone vibrates, its screen illuminating with Lena's message. A tight knot of anxiety coils in her stomach—it's completely out of character for Kara to go silent like this. They had parted ways around 3 PM, nothing amiss at the time. With a sense of urgency, Alex opens her laptop and activates the GPS tracker on Kara's phone. The signal stubbornly hovers over the location of the bistro where they had lunch earlier, an ominous stillness to the blinking dot on the screen. Wrinkles of concern etch deeper into Alex's brow as she grabs her car keys and heads out, her mind racing with possibilities.
Her fears are confirmed when she discovers Kara's phone cunningly hidden in a flower pot outside the bistro. The grim implication of this discovery tightens her chest. "Damn it. Damn, damn, damn!" she curses softly, the words a whispered storm as she dials the DEO director's number, "Director, we have a problem… Commander Danvers is missing."
Back at the apartment, Lena's repeated attempts to contact Kara yield nothing but the cold, indifferent ring of an unanswered call. Her heart rate picks up as a knock sounds at the door—could it be Kara, perhaps having lost her keys? But when she opens the door, it's not Kara's familiar face that greets her; instead, Alex stands there, her expression grave, flanked by four men in military uniforms and one in a suit. "Lena, can we come in for a moment?" Alex's voice is heavy, laden with urgency.
As they step inside, Lena is barraged by a flood of alarming words from Alex and the team—abduction, no trace, search operations, terrorists, a breach at the DEO. The information whirls around Lena, disjointed and overwhelming. She leads them out after the briefing, her movements robotic, her mind struggling to keep pace with the unfolding crisis. After ensuring the team has left, Alex closes the door, her decision firm. There's no way she could leave Lena alone, not with Kara missing and danger possibly still close at hand. The weight of the situation settles around them, a tangible cloud of foreboding as they brace for the challenges ahead.
In the desolate stretch of the hallway, Lena stands, a figure adrift on a sea of uncertainty. Alex, perceiving the depth of her distress, closes the distance between them with measured steps. She envelops Lena in a compassionate embrace, a lifeline thrown in turbulent waters. Lena, jolted by the contact, is abruptly dragged back to the harshness of her current reality—the realization that Kara may not return tonight, if at all, crystallizes with painful acuity. Panic seizes her; her heart thunders against her chest, each breath a labored fight, as the walls of the apartment seem to close in around her. Alex, attuned to the onset of a panic attack, tightens her hold, her arms a stronghold against the rising tide of despair. Lena's defenses crumble, her cries rending the air, each sob a tremor through her body, while Alex, her own emotions brimming, struggles to remain the anchor in the storm. The imperative to find Kara becomes their shared beacon, a necessary quest not solely for Lena's heart but for Alex's peace of mind as well.
Later, they find solace in the openness of Lena's terrace, the cityscape stretching before them—a vast expanse under the twilight sky. Alex breaks the silence, her voice carrying a weight of understanding, "You really love her." It's more of an acknowledgment than a discovery; Alex has long sensed the depth of Lena's feelings, though her initial reservations about Lena's notorious family legacy had once clouded her judgment. Kara's unwavering defense of Lena had shattered any lingering doubts, illustrating the stark contrast between Lena and her infamous lineage. Lena, her face wet with fresh tears, gives a mute nod, her silence heavy with grief and love. "Promise me you'll find her, Alex," she implores with a whisper thin as air, her plea barely rising above a breath. The enormity of Kara's absence looms over Lena, a specter she cannot bear. Kara is not just her love but her beacon, seeing beyond the shadow of the Luthor name, affirming the goodness within Lena, and bolstering her through every ordeal with unwavering faith. Lena clings to this, to the hope that Alex will reunite them, for in Kara she finds not only love but her truest self.
Kara's eyes narrow in agony as she inhales sharply, the pain nearly insurmountable. Her vision blurs, repeatedly slipping into darkness before jolting back to a painful reality. She kneels on a merciless metal grate that digs cruelly into her flesh; her arms are wrenched behind her, elevated in a torturous bind that sets her shoulders ablaze. A low moan escapes her lips, mingling with a cough that tastes distinctly of metal. Her eyelids are heavy, crusted and barely yielding to her efforts to see. The cold air gnaws at her scantily clad form, her skin prickling with goosebumps, her body trembling violently. Disorientation muddies her thoughts—where is she, and what sinister turn of events has led her here?
Amidst the fog of pain and confusion, the voice of a man cuts through, its words indistinct. The harsh scrape of a chair being dragged across a concrete floor reaches her ears, and soon, the blurred vision of chair legs comes into her compromised sight. Desperately, she blinks, striving to focus her vision. Abruptly, a figure stoops before her, seizing her hair with brute force, jerking her head up. "Look, look, the fallen, powerless goddess, on her knees before a Luthor," the voice sneers venomously, its owner reveling in her suffering. The mention of the name 'Luthor' sends a shock through Kara's system, freezing her in a mixture of fear and anger. The room spins, her hearing muffled as if underwater.
As tears gather, blurring her vision further, Kara's voice emerges, raspy and weak, "Who…who are you?" Her body rebels against the pain and the bindings, a futile attempt to flee from her captor's clutches. The response comes with a mock tone of politeness, "Oh, how rude of me, excuse me," the woman says. "Liliane Luthor. Pleased to meet you, Supergirl. Or should I say, Commander Danvers?" The chains jingle ominously as Kara struggles, each movement a chorus of pain and desperation.
Liliane stands, her movements deliberate and mocking as she circles Kara. She leans close, her breath cold against Kara's ear, "Who would have thought Lena's new toy would be so spirited?" The word 'toy' is laced with disdain, dripping with the poison of contempt. As Kara's gaze lifts, a green glowing blade comes into view, its ominous luminescence a harbinger of pain. Liliane's laughter, cruel and triumphant, fills the space. "Kryptonite, just to be sure," she declares with chilling casualness. Then, a sharp, excruciating pain stabs through Kara's side, plunging her once again into an abyss of darkness.