Lena got into an accident and lost her memory. She becomes cold and callous. Kara watches from afar but says a phrase Lena used to Always say once in a while. Later Lena remembers everything and says the phrase to her on her own?
There’s something about the way Lena’s bruised and bleary eyes slide off of her that sends a jolt of alarm down Kara’s spine.
Lena searches the faces surrounding her hospital bed, but none of them is the one she’s looking for.
“My brother, Lex… why isn’t he here?” She asks the doctor whose speech she interrupts. “Was he in the car with me? Is he okay?”
Kara and Alex lock eyes, as Kara’s stomach drops to her knees and Lena’s tone sharpens.
The doctor explains that amnesia isn’t an uncommon side effect of a brain injury like Lena’s. Through a series of carefully crafted questions, they learn that Lena’s lost almost five years. She’s lost L-Corp and Kara and Supergirl and her brother’s conviction and her mother’s arrest and her mother’s escape from prison.
When Lena closes her ears to the doctor, Kara volunteers to explain why Lex hasn’t visited. It’s the worst decision she’s ever made.
There’s no denial, no outrage. Just the complete and utter rejection of her presence. From that point onwards, Lena doesn’t look at her, doesn’t say a single word. Kara finally does leave, accepting she won’t make any further progress that night.
She’ll try again in the morning.
She finds out the next morning that she learns Lena has rejected any and all visitors.
“Except for a Mr., ah….” the doctor pauses, flipping through his notes, “Jack Spheer? If you have a way to contact him, please let us know. The number she was able to provide is out of service.”
Kara shuts her eyes. “Jack Spheer died two years ago.”
The doctor sighs. “This woman just can’t catch a break.” He closes his file. “I’m sorry. Until Miss Luthor changes her mind, my hands are tied. And due to HIPAA policy, I won’t be able to share anything further about her condition.”
“But– I’m her next of kin! And her emergency contact!”
The doctor shakes his head. “Not anymore. Her family lawyers have already communicated her change in permissions.”
Kara freezes. “She– she can’t do that!”
“She can. She’s fully cognizant, and capable of giving and rescinding consent. There’s nothing the hospital can do until notified otherwise.”
“Please, just let me see her, I have to talk to her–!”
The doctor leaves. Kara stays for days, stubbornly hoping her persistence would levy a response from somebody. All she earns are a few sympathetic glances, and nothing more.
Kara honors the letter of Lena’s new rules, but not the spirit. As Supergirl, she hovers high above the hospital, hearing focused entirely on a single room below.
“Good morning, Miss Luthor,” as nurse greets, following the same script as all the others come before. “How are we feeling?”
“Fine. When can I leave?”
“The doctor wants to keep you a few more nights. Head traumas are tricky things. Though, if you had someone who could stay with you, he might agree to let you go sooner.”
Lena snorts. “And what part of the past week suggests to you that I have anyone?”
“Well, what about Kara? I’m sure she’d love to spend a few nights with you.”
Kara could kiss that nurse, if not for the blow that quickly follows.
“Kara Danvers? I’m told she was here when you woke up.”
Kara will never in her life forget the sound of Lena’s voice in that moment.
“She seemed very worried about you. I’m sure her contact information is still on file: we would be happy to give her a call–”
“Jesus christ, will you just shut up? I don’t know her! Why would I want her in my house?”
The nurse leaves. So does Kara. She doesn’t listen again.
Lena returns to L-Corp almost as soon as she’s released from the hospital, and hits the ground running. By lunch, she’s agreed to a meeting with James so long as he comes to her. Kara insists on going with him, and does so under the guise of being an extra pair of hands lugging a stack of board meeting minutes and profit projections and Rao knows what else James deemed necessary.
She practically leads the way to L-Corp, only dropping back when they reach Jess’ desk. The assistant gives them an uneasy glance– Lena’s condition doesn’t sit well with anyone, it would seem.
James is the first to step into Lena’s office. Lena greets him before even bothering to glance up at him.
“Hi, Lena,” he returns, undeterred by the curtness of her tone. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. I just wanted to stop in and see if you had any questions about CatCo. I know it’s been a weird couple of weeks so I brought minutes and annual reports–”
“I already know everything I need to– that for some inconceivable reason, I’ve purchased a useless company that I neither want nor need. So you and your assist– oh.”
Kara fidgets behind James, adjusting her glasses and shifting the stack of papers in her arms.
“Kara Danvers is one of our best up and coming reporters,” James covers quickly. “But she’s just here for the heavy lifting today.”
Lena’s lips curl in a mirthless smile. “Reporter. Funny. You told the hospital something different, Miss Danvers.”
“I–” Kara takes a breath to explain, but barely manages to edge a word in before Lena’s hand snaps up, dismissing her entirely.
“Don’t bother. I’m just glad I made the right choice. As for you, Mr. Olsen, rest assured that I have no interest in a media conglomerate. It’s my understanding you were running CatCo in Miss Grants absence, and you’re welcome to do so again until I find a way to cut the company loose.”
Lena leans back in her seat, eyebrow lifting when neither of them make a move to leave.
“Just give it time,” Alex tells her over ice cream later that week. “The doctor said there’s still a chance of her memory returning.”
Kara shakes head. “He said with familiarity. If I’m there helping remind her. Which I’m not. She won’t even let me get close.”
“If you let her find her own normal, maybe she’ll be in a better position to talk. There’s no reason to lose hope this early.”
Sure. Whatever Alex says.
After three weeks, there’s no change. Lena doesn’t reach out, to any of them. Kara doesn’t know if Lena reaches that new normal Alex described. The only new normal she knows is the constant ache of missing Lena, and the chill of her empty apartment.
She uses Supergirl as a distraction. Only problem is, the city is sleepy with wintertime, and when Thanksgiving rolls around, there’s nothing that requires Supergirl’s attention.
Nothing but a lone figure on the L-Corp balcony, gazing forlorn across the city.
Kara should just go home. Eliza’s in town, and even though a party doesn’t feel right without Lena, there are some family traditions she just can’t ignore. Even so, Kara finds herself drifting closer, and then hovering just off the far end of Lena’s balcony.
Lena’s head snaps towards her. Kara tries not to notice the instinctive recoil of Lena drawing back, eyes wide and wary at the sight of her.
Despite her racing heartbeat, Lena’s voice is strong and biting. Kara offers a smile. “I heard about what happened. I’m sorry.”
Bracing herself for the inevitable snap back, Kara’s left reeling when Lena looks away, shoulders hunching in a rare moment of vulnerability.
“So you’ve finally come by to see what Lex Luthor’s sister is up to?”
“No. Not at all.” Kara doesn’t move any closer, and Lena slowly relaxes. Amazed that Lena hasn’t already banished her, Kara rests her arms against the outer edge of the railing, the reflection of Lena’s own lean that she resumes as her alarm abates.
They stand– and float, respectively– in the quiet evening for several minutes.
“They won’t let me see him,” Lena confesses softly to the shadows. “I’ve requested visitation three times since I woke up, and every time I’ve been denied.”
Kara doesn’t respond. She’s well aware of Lena’s struggles. One of the perks of being Supergirl is that when she requests Lex Luthor receive no visitors whatsoever, he receives no visitors. It might be overreach, but she’ll feel guilty later, once she’s certain Lena’s emotional walls are fully fortified. Lex Luthor won’t be getting the chance to sink a single claw in his sister.
“I can only imagine what you must think of that. Baby sister trying to takes notes…” Lena’s voice turns bitter, then trails to nothing. “But I just– I need to ask him… why.”
Kara doesn’t pretend to have an answer. She simply stays, until Lena finally turns and goes back into her office without another word. Even then, she lingers, rising to hover above L-Corp and listen as Lena sips at a bottle of wine before falling asleep on her office couch.
When she finally returns home, she sobs in her sister’s arms. For herself, and the loneliness of Thanksgiving without Lena. She cries for Lena too, and the loss of Lex made new again.
The next morning, she reaches for her phone, fingers itching to text Lena. She does so, against every instinct warning her against it. It doesn’t matter.
Her number is no longer in service.
Two weeks before Christmas, Kara is run so ragged she almost forgets to miss Lena. Almost.
But on this morning in particular, she’s trying plot a course through six scheduled interviews plus her looming deadline for a separate article when she waits to pick up her coffee order. She hates impatience, but this time she’s that person tapping their foot and checking their watch repeatedly.
“Gingerbread latte for Kiera!”
Kara lunges for the counter and snatches the cup away before it makes contact with the ledge.
“Thank you!” She chirps before stuffing an extra couple of bills in the tip jar. She makes a mess at the condiment bar before hastily jamming a lid on and pushing towards the door.
She smacks into a body entering. Her lid flies off, latte sloshing up and over her hand and drenching the blouse of her unwitting victim, who gasps first in surprise then cursing in pain as the hot liquid soaks through her shirt.
“Ow, fuck!” A familiar voice sears Kara’s consciousness. “Watch where you’re going!”
Kara blinks at Lena, cheeks heating when recognition doesn’t hit Lena for another three heartbeats. When it does, it comes with its own curse.
“Of fucking course. Are you following me now?”
“Nnn-no?” Kara responds, hesitantly. “I was here first, technically? So, no. Definitely no.”
“Whatever,” Lena mutters, plucking at her shirt. “Did you manage to grab any napkins before jumping to lightspeed?”
“Oh!” Kara starts pulling her horde of napkins from her pockets. “God, I’m so sorry. Yes, here!”
She gives Lena one handful before using the other to start cleaning up the mess, starting with the floor before wiping the tops of Lena’s shoes dry. She very nearly moves on to the splotches of damp hose, but catches herself just as Lena curses again.
“God damn it,” she huffs, slopping the soiled napkins into the trash. Her shirt is hopelessly ruined, and they both know it.
“I really am sorry,” Kara says again. “Is there anything I could do–?”
“Staying the fuck away from me would have been a start, but apparently you’re physically incapable,” Lena snaps. “So unless you have a magical stain remover in that messenger bag, no, there’s nothing that will salvage the meeting I’ve been prepping for the past two weeks. So. Thanks for that.”
Kara knows the importance of keeping appointments for L-Corp. Sometimes, she’s learned, investors only give you one chance.
She eyes the stain on Lena’s blouse, then starts pulling off her bag. “Wait a second!“
She strips off her blazer, and holds it out to Lena. The fit will be off, but it should hide the damage just enough to get Lena through her meeting.
"It’s not a remover, but does a magic stain HIDER count?”
Kara weathers Lena’s skeptical glare. Weighing her options, Lena must land on the side of not having any, and a moment later the proffered jacket is plucked from her fingers.
It fits well enough once Lena cuffs the sleeves. The result is some exposed lining, which actually looks deliberate with its pretty spotted satin. Most importantly, it hides the stain entirely.
“Perfect. You look great.”
Lena’s cheeks flush, but this time Kara isn’t certain it’s from anger. “It’s passable.” She meets Kara’s gaze. “Thank you.”
“Oh, please,” Kara waves off. “That’s what friends are for!”
Lena blinks, then jolts as the words register. Before Kara can frantically backtrack to salvage what little conversation they were having, her phone starts to ring. James’ name is on the caller ID.
“Oh shoot! I’m so sorry, I have to go, I am so late.” Kara shoves the rest of her napkins into Lena’s hands. “Just send me your dry cleaning bill, okay? Sorry, again!”
She escapes into bustle of foot traffic, and lets the day sweep her away.
Two days later, she returns to CatCo to find James bustling towards her.
“Where have you been?” He asks. “I tried calling you–”
“I was talking to a source, and then I was coming here anyway, so…” she blinks at James’ agitation. “What’s wrong?”
“She was looking for you. I tried to call you…”
Kara presses her hand to her head. Lena, here. Looking for her. And Kara missed it.
“She left something at your desk.”
Nearly tripping in her haste, Kara scurries to her desk. There in a neat cardboard garment box is her blazer, crisply pressed and devoid of any coffee transfer.
She’s Supergirl again when she next sees Lena. It’s on the L-Corp balcony again, and this time Lena somehow looks even more troubled than she did at Thanksgiving.
“Good evening, Miss Luthor.”
Green eyes blink up at her, too despondent to be surprised. “Supergirl. Did you need something?”
“No. Nothing, just– you seemed troubled, and I wanted see if you were okay.”
“My family is either dead or in prison, and I haven’t left my office in over a week. I’m just peachy.”
Instead of getting discouraged, Kara offers a sympathetic smile as she sits on the edge of the balcony rail. Her feet dangle, perilous for anyone who isn’t her.
“It must be really lonely, to wake up the way you did. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Why are you speaking with me?” Lena asks. “You should hate me.”
She regards Kara carefully. “Let me guess. You were my friend too.”
Kara grins. “Yes, I was. And I hope I still can be.” Lena looks away, and Kara tries to ignore the way her heart drops. “Maybe I should have mentioned it sooner. But I didn’t want you to feel pressured to resume a life you don’t remember.”
For several long moments, neither of them say anything. Winter doesn’t get cold in National City, not like it does in Metropolis, but there’s still a significant chill, this high up and this late at night. Kara knows from the way Lena tugs her sweater closer around her that the chill is present tonight, even if she herself can’t feel it.
“Do you know Kara Danvers?” Lena asks quietly.
Kara straightens, surprised by the question. Lena correctly assumes her response regardless.
“Of course you do,” she drawls with a roll of her eyes. “Everyone in the city seems to know Kara Danvers.”
A nervous chuckle scrapes out of Kara’s throat. “Yeah, as a reporter, she really gets around.”
“She said something the other day… I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”
“She lent me her jacket, and when I tried to thank her, she said ‘that’s what friends are for’.” Lena shakes her head. “It’s a normal thing to say, but… I just keep hearing it over and over in my head. Always in her voice.”
Kara swallows. “Lena, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I should be the one you talk to about this.”
“Oh.” Lena’s gaze shutters. “Of course. I don’t mean to take you away from your duties.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just… I’m not…”
It’s just that she’s not impartial.
Kara can’t be the sounding board to Lena’s confusion, when all she wants is to take her in her arms and bring Lena home where she belongs.
Kara sighs. “I’m Kara Danvers.”
Lena freezes. “Excuse me?”
“I’m Kara Danvers. Superhero by night, intrepid reporter by day.”
Whatever Lena expected, it isn’t this. The revelation throws her for a loop, and she pulls away from both Kara and the balcony rail, arms folding tight in front of her. With a knot in her stomach, Kara floats up off the rail, and descends to land on the balcony facing her.
“Why would you tell me that?” Lena demands. Her eyes are hard, yet uncertain. “And why would I believe it?”
Kara fishes for a way to prove it’s not a lie, and finds herself at a loss. She doesn’t have her glasses, or even an elastic for her hair, and Lena hasn’t spent enough time with Kara Danvers to have any kind of special knowledge.
She laughs at the unexpected absurdity of it.
“It’s a lot easier to prove this when I can just pop my buttons open and show off the suit. I’ve never done it this way before…” She shrugs.
“I can tell you that it was a gingerbread latte I spilled on you at Noonan’s the other day, and that the blazer I loaned you had little blue polka dots on the lining. And I can tell you I’ve been kicking myself ever since I found out you came to CatCo looking for me and I wasn’t there to meet you.”
Lena’s eyes glisten in the light filtering through the windows of her office. Her throat works silently for long moments until she trusts her voice enough to speak. “How can you trust me? I may not be– you don’t know me.”
Kara shrugs. “You may not have the same memories that I do, but Lena… you didn’t become a different person when you came to National City. Supergirl didn’t make you a good person, and neither did Kara Danvers. You were already good.”
Silence stretches between them. Lena doesn’t look convinced, and clearly doesn’t trust the trust that Kara is offering. Kara sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “Last time, I waited too long to tell you the truth. It nearly destroyed our friendship. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”
Lena looks away, finding distraction in the lights starting to turn off in the building across the street. Kara waits, letting Lena be the next to speak.
“I mean something, to people. Ever since I woke up in the hospital, and found out my brother– that Lex killed people, everyone has been acting like they know me. Like they care.”
Kara nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“I know Kara is different. She– you mean something to me, I just… I can’t remember. I’ve puzzled out what we had, but I don’t feel it. I don’t have it inside me.”
The last tiny shred of hope that Lena might one day recover her memories evaporates in that moment. Kara feels the tears spring to her eyes, but she blinks them back before Lena can see them.
She shakes her head and pastes on a smile. “That’s okay. Your memories may not come back, but that doesn’t have to matter. You have friends here, and not just me. James, and Sam, and Alex… you can make new memories, if you want. You don’t have to be alone.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
Kara’s heart trips in her chest, and her breath locks behind her ribs.
“But I would like to know you better. If you– I know I’ve been awful to you, I’m sorry…”
“Already forgotten,” Kara promises swiftly. It’s true, but Rao she’ll say anything she has to if it means Lena will open the door again.
Lena nods, swallowing again. “Then, if you’re agreeable, maybe… maybe we could get to know each other again?”
“I would really, really like that.”
They go for coffee that night. Supergirl flies off, and meets Lena on the street as Kara Danvers. In the light of the foyer, Lena studies her, as though looking for hints of Supergirl.
“Miss Danvers,” she greets. Kara’s chest constricts painfully at the resumed formality.
“What was the question I wanted to ask my brother on Thanksgiving?”
Kara blinks, then softens into a relieved smile. “Why,” she answers. Her grin grows when Lena breaks into a tiny smile of her own. Her eyebrows lift, and her head tilts towards the door.
With that, they strike out into the dark, together.
