Her breath came in fits and starts as Kara knelt on the floor of her apartment. She told herself it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t permanent, that Mxyzptlk was creating illusions, but it felt real. It felt more real than the wood beneath her palms. She still gasped as if cold hard fingers closed around her throat and another woman’s broken heart bathed her in a murdering light. She was sure that if she looked over at the stand up mirror she’d see sickly green lines slicing through her skin, but when she looked that was nothing.
“Well,” said Mxyzptlk, “that was a close scrape, then. Shall we have another go? Perhaps a bit more carefully worded this time.”
Kara looked up, red sun fury boiling in her eyes.
“Kara, perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Get out,” Kara snarled, her voice chasing dust from the ceiling thin streamers. “Your gifts are poison. And stay away from Lena, do you hear me?”
He threw up his hands. “Fine then, fine then, I’ll go, but if you ever need me… I still owe you a favor.”
After he vanished, Alex stumbled back into the room, looking at Kara with shock and alarm. She glanced at J’onn, who formed a fight frown and said, “Kara, when you’re ready, if you want to talk, we can talk.”
Kara nodded with a dismissive wave. The door closed a moment later and Kara glanced over to see Alex still standing there.
“Sis?” she asked, her voice small.
“He cheated,” Kara snapped. “He twisted things. He said he would help me fix things with Lena but made sure it wouldn’t work. He… it was hell, Alex, he showed me hell. Everyone kept dying. You, my friends, her. Every choice I made set off some… some dick genie bullshit that made all my wishes go wrong. The last one almost got me killed. For real. I was so stupid.”
“I asked him to make so we never met so she could be happy without me, and instead she died in the helicopter attack and her mother brought her back as Metallo to kill me.”
Alex blinked. “Jesus,” she whispered.
Kara began to shake, hugging herself. As the righteous fury faded, the towering grief swept in to take its place, a freezing wind following the setting of a tyrant sun. She crumpled, falling back into the couch.
Alex was there in an instant, wrapping Kara in a protective hug as she began to sob.
“What did he want to show me? That it wasn’t going to ever work? That we were just doomed from the start?”
Alex tensed, sucking in a sharp breath.
“He came to you and said he’d fix your friendship?”
“No, he said he’s grant me one gift, and that’s what I asked for.”
Alex went slack for a brief moment. When Kara turned to look at her, there was an expression of absolute shock on her face.
“You… you didn’t ask for your parents. Or to save Krypton. You asked for Lena.”
“Yeah,” Kara sniffed, “why?”
Alex looked thunderstruck. Kara had seen this expression before, when her sister had grasped something difficult or complex. It was the look of an epiphany, a realization.
“I don’t think he was trying to tell you there was never a chance,” Alex said, softly. “Maybe he wasn’t trying to tell you anything at all. Maybe the only thing that matters is what you took from it.”
“All it took from it is that it’s over,” Kara whimpered. “It’s all over. I never had a chance.”
Alex rubbed her back for a while. She seemed conflicted, opening her mouth to speak several times before closing it again.
“Why Lena? Why does she matter so much to you?”
Kara choked back and swallowed, hard. “She was my best friend before I ruined us. She made me feel like a whole person, and she loved me, she loved Kara in a way that nobody ever has. I felt this peace with her, and she made me so happy and contented when I was with her protected her. I just want another five minutes of that feeling.”
“You could have had Krypton back, or your parents, or… or Jeremiah… and you picked Lena.”
Kara heard the way her voice hitched and tensed, a cold knife running down her spine.
“Alex I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I was so stupid…”
“No,” Alex smoothed her hair, “no, kiddo. Shhh, it’s okay. I understand.”
There was an unspoken even if you don’t.
“What are you trying to say?”
Alex swallowed hard, tensing.
“I think you need to hear this, Kara, and you might have to hear it from me. Buying CatCo was not a friendly gesture. One does not drop almost a billion dollars to chitchat and gossip with a buddy. Filling your office with flowers was not a simple thank you, and Lena did not take learning about your identity the way a close friend would. At all.”
“I think you do, you just don’t want to see it because of what it means.”
“Kara,” said Alex, “one does not burn their one wish on another person’s happiness unless they deeply care about that person. I don’t think I would have made a wish like that for Maggie.”
Kara’s head snapped up, almost dangerously fast. She stared straight ahead, past Alex, an electric fusion of terror and elation smashing together inside her like water on rocks. How could she be so blind?
“You think I’m in love with Lena.”
“Office full of flowers,” said Alex.
Kara bolted to her feet, gently disentangling from her sister, and headed for the door.
“Kara?!” Alex demanded. “Please don’t do something you’ll regret.”
When she touched down on the balcony, Lena was at her table in her kitchen, staring at a glass of scotch. The change in her heart rate and slight shift in her posture told Kara that she knew she was there.
Lena rose, swallowed the last of her drink in a dramatic flourish, and stalked to the door. She swept it open and stood on the threshold, leaning against the frame to bar Kara’s way.
“Make it quick, I’m not in the mood.”
“Not this again,” Lena sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Listen to me, God damn it,” Kara snapped.
Lena’s eyes widened at the profanity, and she didn’t move. She didn’t let Kara in.
She didn’t close the door, either.
Kara swept her hands through her hair. She didn’t know where to start, so she just blurted it out.
“A fifth dimensional imp just gave me a chance to change history any way I wanted. Any way I wanted.”
“And this was the best that you could do?” Lena said, arching her eyebrow. She seemed so sharp and yet so lost and tired, the freighted eyes of a lonely girl hiding within her austere, cold beauty.
Eyes that Kara saw as a mirror of her own.
“All of the things I tried turned into monkey’s paw bullshit,” said Kara. “It was never going to work because getting a do-over was the coward’s way out. I can’t fix this unless I admit what I’ve done.”
“Oh, here we go,” said Lena. “Not the ‘I was only trying to protect you’, speech again.”
“You killed your brother for me and I was too cowardly to tell you my real name,” said Kara.
“I was too cowardly to tell you the truth. I was too scared that I might lose you. That wasn’t the worst part. I didn’t give you the faith that you put in me. I told myself over and over that you were the most important person in my life, and you know what? You are. I had a chance at anything, and I didn’t pick my birth family or my foster father or my culture or my entire planet. I picked you.”
Lena stared at her, visibly stunned.
“You matter more to me than anyone. If it was you or the chemicals I would have saved you and fuck the reservoir. If it was you or the city it would be you. If it was anyone or anything it would be you. Always you. But I didn’t treat you like that. I treated you like a threat, like spending to be scared of, and I took from you without giving, and I’m sorry.”
Standing up, Lena hugged herself, gaze locked with Kara’s.
“We can fix it, together. I know you want to. You have a good heart, full of kindness. I just want to hold it in my palms and shelter and protect it and care for you always. I want it more than I want air to breath. If you want to fix and I want to fix it we can find a way. Not right now, not in five minutes, maybe not for years, but I will do anything to bring you back, and I don’t care what you do, I will never treat you like a villain.”
Lena licked her lips and looked away. Hot tears glittered on her cheeks as she pressed her eyelids shut and Kara ached with the pain of her revelation.
“If you don’t want to fix things with me, it’s okay. Just don’t do what you’re planning to do. Don’t hurt anyone, even with good intentions. Don’t let yourself become something you’re not because I didn’t have the courage to help you be all that you are.”
“Get off my balcony,” Lena choked out. “Go. Now, get away!”
Kara stumbled back as if struck, the force of those words crashing into her chest like a hammer, and she didn’t breath as she took off, careful to ascend slowly until she gained enough height.
Then she went hypersonic, her speed dragging out her shriek of rage and anguish behind her, Kara outrunning it even as she couldn’t outrun the fury and grief choking her chest. She flew and flew, past the clouds, flew as the air thinned, blasted into the very embrace of space until the air was gone and no one would ever hear her scream again.
She could hold her breath, she thought. Hold it for hours until she passed out and by the time her orbit decayed she’d be gone and her empty shell could tumble somewhere into the ocean and be forgotten.
A tiny voice whispered, you must live, Kara, so that we are not forgotten.
Kara let herself fall. She tumbled through the air, burning a crimson wake as she made reentry, slowing somewhere over the Pacific.
There was no hurry to get home. When she descended from her roof and walked down the stairs to her loft, she stumbled. There was not one heartbeat in her home, but two.
In a daze, she stumbled through the door and froze. Lena was sitting across from Alex, and for a wonder, Alex wasn’t trying to arrest or shoot her. They both had a beer in front of them and looked to be in mid conversation when Kara walked in.
On the table between them was Myriad. It looked so small, so inconsequential, this ultimate weapon built by her people to enslave their subjects.
Alex rose swiftly. “I’m going to get going. You two clearly have a lot to discuss.” She turned to Lena. “Hurt my sister like that again and next time I’ll fire the orbital fusion cannon at you.”
Lena glared, but said nothing.
Kara slowly pulled out a chair and sat down. Tentatively , she reached across and placed her hand on it, to pull it in. She froze as Lena’s hand settled on hers, fingers curling around Kara’s wrist.
“I’m sorry, too,” Lena offered, in a harsh whisper. “I’m sorry, Kara. I want to try, too.”
For the first time that night, Kara smiled.
It was not an easy or quick thing. A monument is not built in a day and things that last a lifetime are not easily forged. It took months, then years, for the trust to be rebuilt, its foundations made of bricks like lunches and sister night invitations, quiet shared meals and tentative questions that had already been answered, but in the end a wall rose, taller and stronger than ever before. Not a barrier that stood between them but a fortress that encircled and endured, made of stolen kisses and frantic nights and a pair of matching bracelets.
