At the Catch Ch. 9 Preview #2
I have good news and bad news. The good news is I have a preview for you! It does, however, develop major plot points, so avoid if you don’t like spoilers. It’s also angst, though I cannot emphasize enough that 80% of this chapter is not angst. The bad news is I haven’t had as much time to write lately (thanks to work + vacation + training), and am only about 20k into this chapter. Which I think is about half-done? Hoping my pace will pick up these next few weeks, but I don’t want to promise anything. Thanks for your patience!
“Kara!”
And she didn’t even have time to look towards the source of the shout before Kara was dragging her along behind, threading through the clumps of supporters waiting on rowers. When Lena finally managed to look, it was difficult not to see Clark, standing at least a head taller than just about every other person in the crowd and swamped with clamoring fans.
He did appear distinctly, almost irritatingly heroic, standing tall, shoulders square, a muscular arm cocked with sharpie in hand as he dashed off a series of autographs on every shirt and scrap of paper offered to him. When he glanced over, he flashed them a smile, though it wasn’t exactly megawatt, and it faded quickly as they approached. He reached up to the side of his face, in that same way that Kara always did, frowned as he fidgeted with the black frame of his glasses.
Frowned at her. Frowned about her.
It hit her then—had Kara not told him?
And sure, she could see why she wouldn’t be anyone’s first pick, but it still stung to see the disappointment in real time.
“Clark!” Lena tore her eyes away, let them rest on Kara instead. It was stupid, how the sting in her chest grew that greater bit more, seeing Kara’s excitement. Kara should be allowed to be excited to see her cousin, even if he didn’t like her.
Even if he tells her you’re not good enough.
Luckily, a brash voice broke into her thoughts, stopped her from sinking into them. “Okay, folks, I’m afraid he’s closed for business! Allow me to direct you to other roadside attractions, including—but not limited—to: the giant ball of twine, Carhedge, the Grand Canyon, etc., etc. Drive safe now!”
A woman with dark hair came into view as the crowd started to clear, standing next to Clark, but certainly not on his arm.
And that had to be-.
“Lois Lane.”
She offered her hand, and Kara stepped forward to take it in her free one. “I’m Kara.”
There was something so interested, so focused in how Lois looked at Kara then, and Lena could feel how Kara was holding her breath, how Kara’s fingers tightened around her own.
And then Lois smirked at Clark, said, “I see why Smallville hid you away. You’re gonna steal all his adoring fans.”
Kara let out a guffaw, choked it back. Shrugged herself through her obvious discomfort, shifted closer to Lena’s side.
Smoothing her thumb over Kara’s knuckles, Lena stole a glance at Clark. Found him looking right back at her, almost through her. Her stomach dropped, and she turned her gaze away coolly, was nonetheless grateful when Lois spoke again.
“Not too many adoring fans from Valcourt though, I suppose.”
Kara hummed low at that, a thoughtful sound. Thankfully didn’t seem bothered by the question. Lena would intervene the moment that seemed the case.
“No, I guess not.” She felt Kara take a deep breath, let it out. “Valcourt wasn’t good for me. I wasn’t…happy there.”
“Mm. I’m glad you moved on, then. Courageous of you,” Lois said.
Kara rubbed the back of her neck, gave a stilted chuckle that just screamed that a bout of adorable rambling was nigh.
“Oh, I…uh…I don’t know about that. But, um, it’s so nice to meet you! I really admire your work, your investigations I mean—the articles! That one about the governor…huh, wow. But the one I think I like most is that series of…um, profiles, I think? Profiles of houseless folks! Back in 2015? That housing program started right after, and I think that’s just…so freaking cool.”
Lois’s eyes gleamed, and she reached over with her free hand, squeezed Kara’s arm. “You do your homework, Midvale. Looking forward to working with you this summer.”
It was sudden then, how Lois’s eyes fell on her. “And I know who you are.”
Lena tensed for what would follow, what always followed. Wondered if it were healthy that she had about a dozen tried-and-true responses for hostile reactions to her last name.
The corner of Lois’s lips quirked up, barely restrained amusement fighting its way into her tone. “But I didn’t know you were Kara’s girlfriend.”
Amusement. Lois didn’t seem to mind she was Kara’s girlfriend, was even amused about it.
It felt a little like missing a stair, precarious and unbalanced and caught totally off-guard.
“Yes! Right. Sorry,” Kara whispered the apology, suddenly ducking close, bringing warmth with her. Just as quickly gone (though the warmth remained), facing Lois and Clark. “This is Lena. We’re together.”
And that steadied her, warmed her still further, from the inside out, stirred at the perfect way Kara had put it—they were together, and stronger for it. The look she caught Kara shooting at Clark then rippled with muted defiance, with firm assurance.
“Let me just-.” Lois stepped between Clark and Kara, offered her hand. Shot her a canted smile. “Nice to meet you, Lena.”
She had to let go of Kara’s hand to take Lois’s. Did so, if a tad reluctantly, the sting still aching there in her chest. “Nice to meet you too.” Prepared to reach for Kara’s hand again when Clark’s was suddenly there, palm-up.
It felt, bizarrely, like an apology, even before she’d looked up and met Clark’s eyes, found them as deeply blue and deadly earnest as Kara’s, puppy-like in their contriteness.
The sting faded a bit more.
Tentatively, she took his hand, turned it so they could shake properly.
He cleared his throat. “I’m…uh…I forget to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes. Not quite as good at that as Kara here.”
And she couldn’t quite keep herself from saying, “Maybe if you’d spent more time with her.”
Didn’t look away even as a thick silence swallowed them, Clark’s eyes moving over her face with wide-eyed appraisal.
It might have been a few minutes or an eternity, but he finally tilted his head to the side, looked between her and Lois for some reason. And smiled. Smiled like he couldn’t be more pleased at being told off.
“You’re not wrong there. It’s good to meet you, Lena.” He let their hands slide apart, and all Lena saw then was a blonde blur, Kara beside her one moment and hugging Clark with desperate strength next.
It felt private, suddenly, and she turned back to the crowd. Couldn’t keep herself from overhearing the whispered exchange that followed:
“I missed you.”
“Missed you too. I’m sorry, Kara. It’ll never be like that again.”
And the joy she felt for Kara then chased the sting away, briefly, incandescent in her chest. Even if Clark didn’t like her, at least he’d be there for Kara, at last.
Lena felt, more than saw, Lois sidle up next to her, whisper, “They’re such softies.”
She snorted at that, at how true it rang. Shook her head a little. “That’s why they’re the best.”
Lois bumped their shoulders together. “Agreed.”
The crowd was starting to clear, now, the Metropolis rowers trudging off with their families and a few of their NCU teammates making their way to the bus. She took a step forward, scanned the crowd for a familiar bald head. He had to be around here-.
“I see you’ve all started without me.”
She whipped around to face the voice. “Lex.”
And she didn’t quite launch herself like Kara had at Clark, but she did take a few brisk steps and pull him into a tight hug. Closed her eyes and inhaled his familiar smell, high and sharp and minty.
“You act like we haven’t seen each other in years which is,” Lex chuckled nervously, patted her back lightly, “…factual.”
She hugged him tighter, remembered how wrenching it’d been to say bye to him that brief visit during her junior year. Thought, with astonishing clarity, that she didn’t know if she could go so long without seeing him again.
“Were you always a hugger? I don’t remember you being a hugger. Perhaps it’s your exposure to…well, to your girlfriend, if you’ll stop hugging me for long enough to introduce us.”
She scoffed, but still felt impossibly light about the whole thing, drew back to look him up and down. He looked the same, lean and distinguished in a tailored black suit. Glanced over at Kara and nodded for her to approach. “Lex, Kara. Kara, Lex.”
“There’s that Luthor efficiency.” He reached past her to take Kara’s proffered hand, shook it energetically. “You know, you’re the first girl Lena has properly introduced to me, so I’ve got years, years of embarrassing stories all stored up-.”
“Lex!”
He continued to pump Kara’s hand up and down, his attention fixed squarely on her. “You just say the word, and I can tell you all about Lena’s-.”
“LEX!”
Lex rolled his eyes, faux put out. “Fine.” Turned suddenly sly, grinning at her. “You’re safe. For now.” He released Kara’s hand.
For her part, Kara seemed a little shell-shocked, took a moment to speak. “It’s so good to meet you! I owe you a drink sometime.”
Lex squinted at her, tapped his chin. “Did we make a bet I’m forgetting?”
“No, but you told Lena she should trust me.”
“Oh, well,” Lex gestured, his hand fluttering aimlessly, “you seem quite harmless.” He lowered his voice, mumbled under his breath, “Cleared the background check too.”
“Lex.”
He coughed. “In any case, if you’d like to redistribute some of your limited student wealth upwards to me, I’d be a knave to accept the gesture. Good thing I fit the bill.”
“You don’t say.” Clark stepped up, chuckling. “It’s been a long time, Lex.”
Lex stilled, which Lena knew to most people made it look like he was less nervous, less jittery. But it really just meant he was holding it all inside. “Clark.”
“It’s good to see you again,” Clark said, care put into each word, as if he’d never met anything more.
She brushed Kara’s hand with her own, twined their fingers together. Looked between Lex and Clark to see what would come next, her stomach tight and anxious.
After a few heavy moments, Clark gestured and said, “This is Lois, my fiancée.”
“Who doesn’t know Lois?” Lex said, feigned carelessness in the way he spoke, the way he rested his hand on his neck. “You made things…difficult…for me when you pushed the governor out.”
Lois grinned. “Well, if I don’t make your life a little challenging, who will?”
“That’s true,” Lex said, reflective rather than careless now. “It’s a relief to start fresh, sometimes.”
Blinking, he seemed to remember himself, his eyebrows furrowing. He edged away slightly. “Well, it’s been…pleasant.” He met her eyes, softened. Opened his mouth like he was going to say more.
Clark beat him to it. “Wait! Before you go, I did want to ask you about something,” He rested his hands on his hips. “I heard you withdrew your donation for the new dock and training center.” There was something easy even in the confrontation, as if it were all just a misunderstanding.
A chill ran down her spine as it dawned at her—where else but at Valcourt would Lex think of making such a donation?
She watched Lex’s eyes flick over to Kara briefly, watched them return to Clark. Had the same thought that Lex probably did—he doesn’t know.
The chills only spread, flooded her, and she desperately tried to catch Lex’s eye, but surely, surely he would understand not to tell.
And he did seem to realize, his voice flat, toneless, almost bored—“And? I’m not hearing a question.”
Clark frowned. “Was there a reason you did that?”
Her breath hitched in her chest, and she held it.
Don’t tell, Lex, don’t tell, please don’t-.
“Not that comes to mind.”
Slowly, like gathering storm clouds, Clark scowled, eyebrows descending. “Don’t be like that, Lex. Those boys are devastated. When you make a promise, the least you can do is keep it.”
“Well,” Lex raised a hand, his lips twisting into a thin smile, clearly nearing the end of his patience, “it’s obviously not the least I can do. I think I did the least I can do.”
Clark huffed, took a step towards him. “You’re…why would you do that?” He shook his head like a disappointed parent. “But I guess you don’t have that sort of money to spare.”
“Maybe you could help them hold a bake sale. I read somewhere that builds character.”
It seemed effortless, how Lex was winding Clark up now, Clark’s mouth opening and closing like a fish’s. And perhaps this was how to treat Clark when he patronized you. It certainly didn’t seem unfamiliar to Lex, this routine.
“It’s unbelievable how selfish you can be when you put your mind to it,” Clark said, his voice seething with quiet anger.
There had always been something subtle, something secret about Lex’s hurt.
She hadn’t learned to hear it, to see it until a few years ago.
It didn’t flash across his face, or creep into his tone, or settle in the low slope of his shoulders.
Lex didn’t lash out in anger or sink into sadness when he was hurt; no, when Lex was hurt, he doubled down on his smugness, on his own untouchability.
And Clark’s last words must have hurt, for the absolute shit-eating grin Lex directed at him, how it screamed, I know something you don’t. Then, Lex said, “That may be, but it’s not a program I can support any longer. At least not under the current leadership and the…culture…it allows.”
Time slowed, and she turned to Kara. Saw the first wave of emotion, the surprised lift of her eyebrows, the way her lips parted. Shifting, her lips curling up in a smile, something like wonder, like relief lighting up her eyes. The realization that Lex had cancelled his donation for her.
And then. And then.
Kara’s thoughts catching up.
Working out that Lex knew, her expression stiffening. Working out that Clark and Lois were watching, turning to them.
And Lena followed Kara’s eyes, turned to Clark and Lois too.
Saw that Clark looked confused, still.
Saw that Lois didn’t.
And then, under her breath, almost too quiet to make out, Lois muttered, “Fuckers.”
Lena glanced back at Kara, all the heaviness of this slowed series of moments catching up, dragging her down with their combined weight.
And Kara.
Kara leaning forward, sinking into herself, shoulders rising as if to protect herself.
But that didn’t stop it from happening. Didn’t stop Lois or Lex from knowing.
A brief moment, wheels clearly spinning in Kara’s head, working overtime, fighting for purchase.
Working out how Lex must know.
They felt even slower then, even heavier, those few seconds Kara spent to face her, to look at her.
To stare at her like she’d just pulled a knife out of her back, bewildered and hurt and spiraling—you?
Or perhaps, if Kara were feeling literary—et tu, Brute?
And the last thing Lena felt before time sped back up, started to go far too quickly, was Kara letting her hand go.
