Supercorp One Shots

No More Secrets

                              By: Val-Creative

Lena's fingers tremble a little, pressing and smoothing over her skirt, as she walks away. She may be Kara's boss — but it doesn't make arguing with her easy.

She doesn't want to be the bad guy. Not at all. Creating tension with her best friend, who is obviously grieving a loss and having a poor time compartmentalizing it, isn't how Lena planned to spend her first week running CatCo.

One of the newer interns wait for her, passing over the landline phone. "It's Jerry, the current head of maintenance," they explain, frowning.

Lena cradles the beige-colored phone to her shoulder and ear, nodding. "Hello?"

"Miss Luthor?"

"Yes?" she replies, putting on a cheerful but sincere tone. "Is this Jerry?"

"That is correct, ma'am." What sounds like an older gentleman blares in Lena's right ear. Lena winces slightly at the unfamiliar, jarring volume, tilting her ear away. "There seems to be a repeated use of the distress call from the private elevator. We have no cameras available inside, but they've stalled on the floor below. Perhaps we should call an ambulance?"

Distress call?

"There's no need to panic quite yet, I'm sure," Lena tells him offhandedly. "I'll go down there myself and let you know what's happened—can you force the doors open?"

"We can shut down the elevator on that floor. It'll keep the doors wide open, ma'am."

"Thanks."

As soon as the phone clicks off, Lena drops it down onto its holder, turning around for the nearby staircase. Maybe she should have asked Jerry to call for—

Her heart stutters.

Wasn't... Kara on the elevator?

Lena rushes down the last few steps, clutching onto the banister, her legs feeling wobbly in her high heels. Two other male employees pass her by, laughing and smiling flirtatiously, deep in their own pleasant, light conversation.

From the opposite side of the floor, she spots the private elevator doors whirring open — and Kara, with her back to Lena, Kara's brown, designer work-bag falling noisily.

"Kara!" Lena shouts, abandoning her Burberry heels without thinking and hurrying faster. Something's wrong. Kara's entire body shudders, her arms and hands raised as if bracing herself inside the elevator. "What is it—what's happened—?"

All possible scenarios clash inside Lena's mind. She realizes it hardly matters as Kara jerks around, gasping as if choking for air and reacting frantically to Lena's hand touching her shoulder. Kara's eyes, no longer hidden behind her glasses, appear unfocused and squinting and blinking rapidly, as if she's seeing in blurs.

It's... as if Kara isn't sure where she is right now.

"Kara, it's Lena. It's me. You're alright," Lena murmurs, watching in fearful dismay as one of Kara's hands grasps around her own throat, her breathing visibly labored. "It's going to be alright, Kara. Let me help you, please—"

Lena glances downwards, eyebrows bunching. When did Kara rip her dress-shirt like this—

No.

No, she didn't.

With a stiffened inhale, Lena tears her eyes away from the gold-and-red S shield. Not bothering to ask permission, she guides a wheezing Kara out of the elevator. One of CatCo's employees notices them, staring curiously from another set of elevators.

"If I don't see you at your desk in two minutes, I'll rain hellfire," Lena barks out. She takes Kara's leaning weight and gathers up the opened button-collar of Kara's shirt and clenches her hand together, masking the S shield.

The employee flushes a guilty, reddening color, muttering an apology and fleeing for the lower floors.

Once they're alone, Lena collapses gentlyonto the floor with Kara, helping her sit up against the interior wall. "Focus on my voice, okay? I need you to breathe," Lena says calmly, palming her face. "Can you do that, Kara?"

Kara's head lolls, her blue eyes rolling gradually backwards. What sounds like gibberish slurring out of her, but by now, Lena understands it's not.

"Kara—Kara. You're going to pass out, don't..." Lena's mouth thins together. She lets go of Kara's face, stroking her forefinger and thumb over her jaw. "Please... don't do this. I need you to come back. Kara, come back to me."

After a long, silent moment, Kara blinks and shudders again, lifting her head. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but Lena imagines Kara's breathing has gone more stable.

"Lena...?" she whispers, glancing around in obvious confusion.

"Oh thank god—Kara, you scared me to death." Lena feels herself grinning and suddenly overwhelmed, reaching to clutch tightly onto Kara's empty hands. "You were having a panic attack in the elevator. I thought you were going to faint. Tell me you're alright."

"I..." Sweat dribbles over Kara's forehead. She exposes and grits her teeth, attempting to push herself up onto her feet. "Ineedtogo..."

Lena's hand flattens against Kara's chest, directly over the golden-edged, scarlet S.

"The only place you're going is home and resting, Kara Danvers," she informs Kara, sternly. Lena quickly gazes down and re-buttons Kara's plum shirt, hoping the other woman won't notice the task. "Or I'll drive you to the walk-in clinic. Take your pick."

"You drive...?"

A faint, amused smile blesses Kara's mouth. Lena can't even be pretend-offended about the quip. "Not even a little," she admits, hooking her fingers into Kara's searching out.

When she's sure Kara is capable of discussing it, Lena will bring up Supergirl's role in their lives.

Right now, it's only them — Kara and Lena, best friends, no secrets.