Lena squared herself up after she stepped from the elevator.
This has taken considerable work. She’d had to arrange for her absence from boarding school to go unnoticed, or at least, unremarked upon. If Lillian got wind of her running away, she’d have been skinned alive. Perhaps literally. Since her adoptive father’s death, she’d actually looked forward to school, and to being away from Lillian’s abuse. Lex was now the only thing keeping her from Lena, and Lex was preoccupied with his project.
Her brother had been away for school for some time, but they had summers off together at least. When Lex took over the company when he turned 21, he grew distant and aloof, spending more time with his friend Clark or at work than with family.
With his absence came Lillian.
Still, she had managed to build a support network. Frank, her bodyguard-slash-driver was Lex’s man, but he was useful. Lena had spent months buttering him up to participate in her plan: she needed wheels.
In the meantime she’d acquired blackmail material. The head master at the school gave her a broad latitude after she implied that she might expose certain proclivities of his. That gave her the time away she needed. She’d carefully negotiated a higher allowance from Lex in exchange for accelerating her studies in anticipation of beginning her undergraduate studies at sixteen, which was a triviality for her anyway.
Lena walked down the hall, heart pounding against the backpack clutched to her chest. Each step felt heavy, alive with portent.
She could turn back now. She could turn her back now.
What if she was wrong? Paranoid, addled, as crazy as her mother, just like Lillian said? What if she was about to not only blow up her whole life, but slander her brother. If this went sideways, she didn’t know what exactly would happened to her, but Lillian had once, while tipsy on whisky from Lionel’s stash, told Lena that if not for Lex, she’d have Lena garroted with piano wire and buried on the estate, and like any bag of trash, no one would notice she’d been disposed of.
When she told Lex, her hands shook like leaves. He looked at her for a long cold moment and she worried that he’d slap her or scream or throw her out of the house, but he simply said, “I’ll talk to her about it.”
He did. She never made another threat.
He also brought her a wooden box, ornate and polished. Lex sat next to Lena and opened the box, showing her the contents, lying on red velvet. A five shot snub nose revolver and two speedloaders.
“I’ll teach you how to use this,” Lex said, grimly. “I know you’re smart enough to know if you need to. If anyone tries to harm you, kill them. I’ll clean it up.”
Lena had been terrified of it for months, even as she enjoyed the shooting lessons from Lex, given in a remote part of the estate near a burbling creek, the shots cracking the morning peace and shaking dew from leaves.
She had the gun in her backpack, and her hands were shaking.
The other contents of her bag were a weapon far more devastating. She was about to fire it and she’d have to accept the consequences.
Finally, she stood outside the door. Apartment 18B. The name on the lease was Lois Lane, but according to Lena’s reconnaissance, Clark Kent had been living with her virtually full time for the last six months, not long after something changed in his relationship with Lena’s brother.
Lena’s hand hung before the door for a good minute before she knocked, weekly. She hadn’t considered what might happen if they were simply not home. Her legs felt watery and her eyes burned. She knocked again. She was committed now.
The door swung open and Lois Lane stood before her. She was beautiful in an understated way, obscured by limp hair in a chaotic bun, rumpled clothes, and the stink of coffee on her breath.
“Who- what? Kid, what do you want?”
“I need to see Clark Kent. Is he here?”
There was a gust of wind behind her, and Kent stepped into view.
“Lena?” said Clark. “Lex’s little sister? What are you doing here?”
Lena’s throat went tight. She swallowed hard, and as she anticipated, his demeanor changed. He softened. He craned forward slightly, studying her intently, and his brows shot up when looked at her bag.
He was checking her vital signs and he’d spotted the gun. In the bag.
“He knows you’re Superman,” Lena choked out, “and he’s going to kill you.”
Lois glanced at Clark with a stunned, stunned wide expression. Then, she grabbed Lena and yanked her inside, slamming the door. Lena squeaked.
“How do you know that? Lex knows? Did he tell you? What do you mean he wants to kill Clark?”
“Hey,” Clark said, crouching beside Lena to bring himself to her level, resting a comforting hand on her slight shoulder. “Take a breath, Lena. You’re safe here.”
In Lena’s plan, she was going to begin explaining, starting with how she deduced his identity and lay out what she discovered in his files. That was her plan, but no plan survived first contact with the enemy.
Superman knelt beside her and removed his glasses, and enveloped Lena Luthor in a warm, protective hug. She sobbed harder, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Jesus Christ,” Lois whispered.
She drew the gun out of the bag and checked it with professional, practiced familiarity, dumping the shells into her hand.
“I think she’s telling the truth.”
Over the next hour, Lena was swept to Lois’s big couch and sat in the middle while the pair sat on either side of her. When she was hungry, Clark went out to get her favorite guilty pleasure meal, a big greasy burger and fries, and a milkshake too. Between bites, she explained everything, telling them about her brother’s insane plan to turn the sun red.
They believed it all. Lena had receipts.
Eventually, Lena was exhausted, everything had been said, and she sat with dull shock on the couch and stared at the black mirror of a blank television set, marveling at how small and helpless she looked, like a drowned rat.
“Why don’t you lay down for a while?” Lois said, gently. “Here, I’ll put something on the TV for you.”
Lena didn’t make it ten minutes in before she was asleep, curled tightly on one end of the couch with a pillow under her head.
She woke sometime later. It was dark now and she heard voices on the far side of the apartment.
“I called Bruce. He said he’s in, and he’s bringing reinforcements. I’m going to try to get a Green Lantern on board. We have to move fast. Nevermind me, if Lex does this, millions of innocent people will die. We’ll have to move fast.”
“What about the girl?” said Lois. “She can’t go home now. We have to get her somewhere safe.”
“I have to get you both somewhere safe. I should probably come up with a reason to get the building evacuated. One Lex realizes he’s been caught out, he’ll come after both of you.”
“I want you to go out,” said Clark. “Make it look like you’re heading out to a convenience store. Bruce is sending Alfred to pick you up, he should be here in an hour. I have somewhere else in mind for Lena.”
“It’s better if I don’t tell you, just in case.”
When he emerged from the back bedroom, Clark Kent was resplendent, clothed in the persona of Superman.
“Lena?” he said, gently. “We have to go. I’ll take you somewhere safe, where your brother won’t find you.”
Lois joined him. “You’re going to put on some of my clothes, and I’m going to check your hair. You can’t take anything with you. Lex Luthor might have been tracking you the entire time.”
Lena’s stomach dropped. What if she was right? That might be a move Lex would play, tracking Lena so that he could use her against his enemy. Lex had become cold, single minded. Lena was wondering how long it would be until she was disposable.
“I’m going to have to fly you.”
Lena did as she was told. She put on an outfit that belonged to Lois, a hilariously oversized Gotham U sweatshirt and leggings. When it was time, Superman bundled her up in his cape.
“I would never drop you,” he said.
Lena screamed when he took off. She was glad for the cape, glad she couldn’t see the ground. She curled up around him and pressed her eyes tightly closed, wondering exactly how fast they were going.
The landing came surprisingly fast. He’d alighted on the grassy lawn of a lovely beach house. Lena smelled something baking and heard voices inside. Clark knocked on the door.
A girl, a little older than Lena, opened the door. Golden curls spilled over her muscular shoulders, and she wore an oversized pair of glasses that did nothing to dull the endless depths of her blue eyes. There was something profoundly sad behind the curiosity in those eyes. She looked at Lena with mild confusion.
Lena stared back. There was a wild stirring in her stomach, and she shifted uneasily on her feet.
Then, the girl addressed Clark in a rapid, clipped, and utterly strange sounding language.
It hit Lena like a shockwave.
They were speaking Kryptonian.
“Lena,” said Superman, turning to her. “This is Kara Zor-El, my cousin. The last daughter of Krypton.”
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