Kara had always known Lena was exceptionally stubborn and a workaholic. These weren’t revelations that came with their apocalyptic circumstances – they had always been true, always would be. If their path had gone another direction, she had no doubt she would still be wrestling with Lena to eat something, hydrate properly, come home and rest after endless hours in the lab.
She was like Alex that way. Once the science brain took over, processing the outside world further than necessary was a struggle. Kara had even helped facilitate it more often than she should have in years past because she knew Lena was among their best bets of someone who could fix this. She knew Lena was trying to do good, to help them cobble together something that could help them in this endless war.
Kara understood it. She didn’t like it, but she understood.
Vallo as it had been on her arrival had stopped existing a long time ago. Life these days was a constant battle, and even the tech team could hardly keep up to help. They rarely held the upper hand, and the world seemed hopeless, but they kept trudging forward. They kept doing what they could to survive. Kara had faith that, somehow, they would prevail, and she knew Lena’s work was an attempt to give people the same hope. Somehow, they would be able to set the world right again. Interitus had been defeated before – twice – and they would defeat him again.
Somehow. Someday.
In the meantime, they had a family. A beautiful little boy and girl who were growing up in a world they never should have had to face. Lori was barely four, and Theo had turned ten not long ago, and Kara loved them with everything she had. She knew Lena did, too, but her work kept her away far too often. It had been one of their sore spots for a long time; Lena would make an effort for a few weeks after they discussed the situation, but it wouldn’t be long before she was burying herself in her work again.
At this point, Kara wasn’t sure it was possible to break that habit. The company Lena kept and worked with only encouraged it. Maybe it was selfish to take her away and ask for her attention, but, Rao help her, Kara kept on trying.
Tonight, she’d successfully talked Lena into coming back to Darla. They had their room at the Outpost, but that was in close proximity to work, and Kara wanted her wife away from that for the night. She needed a break, whether she’d admit it or not, and the kids were so excited to have her home for dinner. They spent the whole time peppering her with stories of what they’d learned at school from Peter and Emily, and the games they had invented with the other kids (with plenty of interjections by Finn and Dare), and dozens of little stories of time that Lena had just missed.
It was a bittersweet experience, if Kara was honest, but still, she reveled in it.
Once the kids were tucked into bed, and Adora had set herself up for the night’s first watch, they’d retreated upstairs to their room to get ready for bed. On Darla, it was easier to feel a little normal; most of their tech was functioning properly, and the ship sustained itself well. They shifted location occasionally, to keep the chance of Interitus’ forces finding them low, but for the most part, they were grounded. The ship’s fuel crystals were in no danger of running out; it was a gift they were lucky to have.
The comfort of their lodging situation, however, didn’t take away from the wall of tension existing between them when they were alone. It was easy to brush aside when they were with the kids and the rest of the family (the commune, Catra called it, while eyeing Kara knowingly across the table). Without a tableful of buffers, it became the strongest presence in the room.
“Thank you for taking the night off,” she said, peeling her shirt off over her head and tossing it easily across the room into the clothes hamper. “The kids have missed you,” she continued, pulling her long blonde hair free of its ponytail. “And so have I.”
It was good to be here. Really, it was. But–
“Missed you too,” Lena expressed, sending a smile her way. There was a little makeshift vanity in the room they were in, the basics neatly organized on top of it – and the basics these days were a rarity, to be used sparingly. Some lotion, facial wipes to wipe their faces, an actual brush and not some broken comb, deodorant. If she had her lab, she’d replicate it all and strive towards making an infinite supply.
That required resources, which were limited, alongside a laboratory that couldn’t be reached. Darla had a semblance of a laboratory in its med-bay but it wasn’t enough, and finding equipment to trade was–
No. No. Her brain needed to come to a screeching halt. Tonight had been about family. The kids were chatty, and the dinner was warm – turns out Catra could get a menagerie of odd foods – and the evening had been pleasant. Relaxing, for the most part, if the gears in her brain would stop turning, if she could keep herself from making a mental list of tasks, of things she’s missed, of–
No. (God, there was so much to do.)
Lena plucked one of the facial wipes from its box, gently applying it to her cheeks. She didn’t wear makeup nowadays (as that was also a scarce but unimportant resource), but she felt like her skin could use some refreshing, “I take it there’s no homework for the weekend?”
“Theo had some high school level math worksheets Peter made up for him, but he’s finished already,” Kara reported, pulling a fresh tank top over her head. She shucking her jeans off next, exchanging them for a pair of mesh shorts. “He had me look it over when he was done, but he didn’t ask for help once. Smartest little guy I know.”
There was so much pride in her voice and in the smile that matched it. Theo was brilliant, sweet, and wonderful. She knew Alex would be proud of him, too, if she was here, but Kara had stopped wishing the moment Vallo had taken a turn for the worse. She didn’t need one more person she loved here scrambling to survive.
She padded over to the vanity and slung her arms down around Lena’s neck, meeting her eyes in the small mirror. “How many miles per hour is that brain of yours going?”
That put an even wider smile on her face. Theo was definitely something. He absorbed information like a sponge, and his intellect was sharp for his age. Lena didn’t know if he was just naturally gifted or if all that educational drilling had done its job or both, but he was brilliant.
He loved puzzles, too. Putting things together. Lena had dropped a small fortune on getting him all sorts of legos back when they lived at L-Corp, and now - it was laid to rest with the rubble of the building.
“My brain’s fine, darling,” Lena insisted, sounding outright convincing despite the little lie. “Proud about those math problems - Peter’s been good with him. I mean, I regret that he’s just teaching right now, I can see him being valuable with some on-going projects but it’s good that someone's challenging those kids.”
It should probably be a red flag that she could even vaguely relate a conversation meant to be about family to work. Sometimes she couldn’t help herself – but she tried not to take it too far.
Kara could easily have believed what Lena was saying. She was firm and insistent, and even though Kara knew better, her want to trust it might have been enough. But the speed at which the conversation veered right back toward work quickly extinguished that tiny flicker of hope. She sighed, kissed the top of Lena’s head, and stepped back to give her space again.
“I get the feeling he has enough on his plate right now. I’m glad he’s still able to make time for the kids.” With all that had affected Peter in the past year, good and bad, maybe the kids were a comfort for him if he kept making the time to teach. She appreciated his efforts. “Is there something specific you needed a sounding board for?”
She didn’t dip into the science side of their efforts much these days. She’d stop in and help if it was requested, but she put most of her support toward leadership and keeping things running as smoothly as they could. But if there was something Lena needed to work out, she was willing to bounce around ideas, especially if it let her clear her mind of work.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Lena waved a hand dismissively, feeling the absence of Kara’s touch and not liking it. They had greeted one another with a kiss or two, and there would be a brush of hands as the evening progressed with everyone – but it wasn’t enough.
Twisting around on the stool to face her, she reached out for her wrists. “There’s been a lot to do, and new ideas, and figuring out how to get the kind of equipment needed, and…” Lena breathed in deeply, forcing a smile. “You get me started and then I’ll ramble, and I don’t want you upset with me.”
Kara smiled softly. She wished she could argue that wasn’t true. One of the things she’d always been attracted to and loved most about Lena was her brain. She was a brilliant scientist, and five years ago, Kara would sit and listen to every bit of whatever science ramble she sent on with a dreamy expression on her face and no desire to stop her. She’d always loved Lena’s intelligence and the way her mind worked and always would.
Five years ago, however, Lena knew when to take a break. Kara got that it was harder these days, when the kind of work she was doing was much more crucial to their everyday life, to their literal survival, but she missed having other conversations – even the silly ones, like the merits of deep-fried potstickers versus baked.
“I’m not upset with you, honey,” she assured her gently. “I think you’ve earned a break, that’s all. It’s nice having you home.” She crouched down and leaned forward to kiss her lingeringly, remembering the days when red lipstick would come off on her mouth every time.
There was hesitance in returning the kiss.
Lena did, of course – Kara was, in every sense of the word (but not legally) her wife, her partner, her person. Vallo had gone dark but she and the children were beacons of light she clung to. They’re what made her want to keep pushing, to keep working, to keep trying to find a way to improve their situation despite lacking the power to destroy some magic-sucking entity that was hellbent on taking everything from them.
But if there was one thing – one phrase – she grew tired of hearing, it was this one: take a break.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was stress, and lack of restful sleep, or the utter and complete depression she sometimes felt for not being able to do more, but take a break hit a nerve.
The reciprocation was slow and soft, but Lena didn’t let it continue for long. “I really wish,” she started, taking a deep breath through her nose, “that you’d stop acting like I don’t take breaks of my own accord.”
Lena liked to think that she did, sometimes. Perhaps not enough times but – she did, didn’t she? She knew her limit.
Kara expected something to break this relatively pleasant interaction at some point. She hoped otherwise – she always did – but this had become their pattern. There was always something simmering beneath the surface because, as far as she was concerned, nothing ever really changed. Lena buried herself in her work, didn’t know when to stop, neglected their family, and when Kara managed to talk her up for air, she couldn’t really focus on it.
Maybe she was too overbearing. Maybe she was asking too much. Maybe she wasn’t giving Lena enough credit. But it felt more and more like she was dragging her out of her hole, and she was getting so tired of it.
“Do you?” she questioned, standing up again, arms crossing over her chest. A decade ago, she wouldn’t have fed into this so easily, but Kara of a decade ago had been infinitely more patient than she was now. “Because, if you do, I can’t recall the last time you came home on one of these ‘breaks’ you’re taking to check in with us.”
“I can’t just easily come home all the time,” Lena shot back with more ice than intended, her voice keeping steady at an acceptable volume. These walls were fairly thick, and the soundproof option was disabled to preserve power – but she also wasn’t enthused with the idea of someone listening in on this. “All that back and forth traveling isn’t the best idea, Kara, you know that.”
God, this again.
She didn’t mean to tread into this territory. It was the last thing she wanted, and she let out this frustrated noise while pinching the bridge of her nose because they’ve been over this. “But I’m here, aren’t I? I want to be here.”
Kara sighed. She couldn’t argue with that; she did know back-and-forth travel wasn’t as easy as it had once been. With Interitus’ forces out there in droves, chances of ending up in a bad way were much higher than they used to be. Of course she didn’t want Lena putting her life in danger any more than was absolutely necessary.
“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” she said quietly. “I know you’re trying to fix everything, Lena, but before tonight, our kids haven’t seen you in a month. Do you realize that?”
She knew she’d said it before, to get her here tonight. And they’d had variations of this argument dozens of times, but it never seemed to make an impact. She knew how talented her wife was at masking her emotions, but Rao, she hated having to chip away at that mask.
Lena just looked insulted now.
“Do I realize–of course I realize that,” she breathed, the sound suspicious to a gasp. Her words cut deep. Did Kara not know that she counted the days, too? That she wondered what the kids were up to – what books they were being read to at night, what they were doing with their friends if they had tried something new to eat, if their favorite characters had changed. “I know I’m missing out, Kara. Theo doesn’t treat me much differently but Lori? Lori?”
Their daughter not only looked like Kara (which was perfect, she loved that) but she also preferred Kara, for everything. She always had. “Sometimes she hides her face so she won’t even look at me, like I’m some stranger, and I can’t complain because I know I’m gone. I know I’m not there. You always make sure I don’t forget it, either.”
Every bit of Lena was tense, and instead of tears, she gave Kara this look that was just cold.
Kara didn’t like going around in this vicious circle any more than Lena did. She didn’t like feeling like an absolute nag. She didn’t like that she’d clearly hurt Lena with her words with that unintentional low blow. She never wanted to be cruel to Lena or make her feel guilty. But someone had to prioritize their family, and though she had zero doubts Lena loved their kids, her priorities were flipped.
And this was the result. A constant, repetitive tug-of-war. Lena Luthor had always been a force to be reckoned with, and Kara was no slouch herself. They were a battle of wills that no outsider would be wise to interfere in.
As Kara was wont to do, though, she softened first. She sympathized. She knew Lena was right – her time away didn’t do her any good with their baby girl. She would always warm right back up to her mom with some time, but she did have a tendency to hide, to be shy. Lena’s constancy in her life had faded out after the first year of her life when things started going to hell, and she went off to work.
“Lori loves you, honey,” she assured her, and her surety carried in her voice, soft but firm. “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I just want you with us. Maybe that’s selfish, but I get to be selfish with you. If not for me then for the kids.”
“Everything I’m trying to do is for them,” Lena enunciated harshly. She wanted to step away from the Lori topic. Nothing could really soothe the wounds about that – she knew she fell into the role of distant parent, she knew that the only way to change it was to be present. But being present wasn’t always feasible, and she had to swallow this bitter pill that she was going to miss milestones. “For you.”
She rose from the vanity stool, pushing back the wavy mess of her raven hair. The luxury of a straightener was hard to come by these days, but there was no room to be vain about appearances. “I need you to just–please stop repeating what I already know, stop telling me that I need to take a break. Magic’s gone, Kara. This place used to run off it and be fixed by it and now it needs people who specialize in the opposite of that – and we were always a small group to begin with. We’re all losing time with the people we love trying to fix it for the people we love.”
For a few moments, Kara was silent as she absorbed this. It went against every instinct in her – she was a pusher, even when she shouldn’t be, and she tended to think she knew what was best for everyone. She stood by that, particularly in this case, but she knew when she was fighting a losing battle and doing more harm than good. She knew there were times when you just had to give up and let circumstances right themselves.
It wasn’t easy, but nothing about this situation was easy. Their lives had changed on the most monumental of scales, and Lena was making every attempt to even out those scales. It might not be fair to their family, but maybe it was a sacrifice that had to be made. Kara knew plenty about those, too.
“Okay,” she acquiesced at last. Her arms fell from her chest and she held both hands up in surrender. “No more, I promise,” she agreed. She met Lena’s eyes and took a tentative step forward, hands held out in an offering for her to take. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Those hands were an olive branch. A sign that they didn’t need to take this further; the conversation could end, and they could move on.
But it didn’t leave Lena feeling satisfied. It didn’t feel like it was over. They had argued about this before, and she knew it would inevitably come up again – and not because Kara was malicious, or she was petty and wanted to rub salt on the wound of her parental failures. Kara cared, so much. She was there for their children when she wasn’t. She soothed them through their nightmares, and all the times they were sick, and it made her love grow beyond anything she could imagine.
And here Lena was, working for her and them – but also failing them.
“I’m sorry too,” she said, the sharpness gone and leaving her tender, like a bruise. Lena took her hands to bring them to her chest. “It doesn’t matter how hard I work. It never distracts me from how much I miss you, and how much I wish I was here with the three of you. And sometimes I feel like this nonsense is just – making me go in circles, constantly chasing my own tail, but working is how I take care of you. Of all of you.”
“I know,” Kara murmured. Her forehead dipped down to touch Lena’s, eyes falling closed as she squeezed their joined hands together. She knew that everything Lena did was for the good of their family – Vallo at large, too, but she didn’t truly believe Lena ever lost track of the three of them. She knew better.
It was just hard to let her go and leave her to her work when all she wanted was for her to be here. She was under no illusions that the work was important – Kara lent plenty of her strength and effort to the Outpost’s leadership – but even in the apocalypse, maybe more so than before, she drew boundaries. The tech team, unfortunately, didn’t have that luxury. There were so few of them, and they needed Lena’s brain.
“I love you,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to one of Lena’s cheeks. “Things will get better soon, I know they will. And as soon as they do, I’m stealing you away and keeping you with us for an indeterminate amount of time. That’s a done deal, okay?”
Soon. Gods, she hoped. Nothing felt better now – even with Kara’s lips to her cheek, and how she showered her with that miraculous positivity that somehow thrived even now. Lena felt this knot in the pit of her stomach, and it had gotten heavier. More gnarled and twisted than it had ever been before.
“Darling, you can keep me with you forever,” Lena replied, offering a trembling smile. She closed the space between them and pressed into her, arms circling her shoulders, tips of their noses touching. “I’d like to retire. To stay with you, and Theo, and Lori, and not miss out like I have been.”
I don’t want to become a stranger, she wanted to say.
Do they even believe that I love them, she wanted to ask.
But she said nor asked any of that, and kissed the corner of her mouth instead.
Kara wasn’t blind. These past two years had been hard. It was fight after fight, and they weren’t making any ground. Ever since the Battle for the Quarry, things had taken a sharp downward turn. But she held onto hope. She had to. Just because they had bad times didn’t mean there wouldn’t be good times ahead of them. They had teams in place – Lena’s included – striving for exactly that, and she had to believe that they would find a way to make a difference and turn the tides back in their favor.
Somehow. Someday. Maybe sooner, maybe later. Right now, she was hoping for sooner, for Lena.
Her arms circled Lena’s waist, and warmth filled her belly at that brush of lips against the corner of her mouth. One hand raised to cup that sharp jawline, thumb stroking gently across her cheek. “I’m holding you to that,” she murmured, tipping Lena’s chin up just a bit more. “Once the world’s back on track, you’re mine, Ms. Luthor.”
Lena let out a breath of a chuckle. “That’s the dream,” she said, allowing Kara to tilt her head up just enough – but the eye contact was brief. The intimacy of it was also brief.
She broke it by pulling away.
“I need to change,” she explained quietly, that tremulous smile shifting into something with a little more tension. They were fine. Really. They were. Lena was just feeling a little sensitive, and like a total failure as a spouse, as a parent – but it would pass (it wouldn’t). “Have any spare clothes that I can steal from you?”
“Yeah, I’m sure I do.” Kara’s responding smile was small and quick before she stepped up to a drawer to dig out a set of old sweats for Lena to wear. It was no surprise that, once the moment passed, they were back to themselves: a little tense, like they were tiptoeing around one another.
Unfortunately, themselves needed a lot of work that they couldn’t accomplish in the short amount of time they had together. It was kinder to play pretend.
Right now, this was just a bandaid for their situation. That was okay. It had to be okay, for their sake and their family’s sake. Like Kara said – things would get better. This couldn’t be permanent. They were a stubborn, determined group despite the suffering of losses. If they were still going at it, breathing and fighting and working, there was a chance.
Then, maybe, she could rest.
Lena dropped her day's clothes onto a chair and dressed with what Kara offered, hoping she realized that asking for her clothes meant that she wanted her near with her. “Thank you,” she said afterward, flashing her a more tender – and genuine – smile. “It’s good to be home.”
Darla wasn’t exactly home, but home was where Kara and their children were. That was enough for now.