8. Chapter 8(2)
Lena doesn’t know how to say that she always wants this because she knows what Kara is really asking and Lena hates that the question doesn’t have a simple answer aside from, “I’m not sure.”
“This matters to me,” Kara replies in a thick voice, as she gestures between them. Lena pulls at her shirt, runs her fingers through her hair. “I need it to matter.”
“It always matters,” Lena whispers, the uncomfortable feeling of tears heating up in the backs of her eyes. The with you goes unspoken, but she hopes Kara hears it.
Kara’s fingers clench visibly, and she looks like she might walk back over towards Lena, but she stays put, nods a little. “I need it to matter at home. I need it to matter when we still have all the crazy stuff happening in our lives.”
“Kara,” Lena says, the name dropping out of her on a broken sigh, and Kara smiles a little despite the visible tears threatening to drop.
“When we do this again,” Kara continues and Lena’s heart flutters at the when. “You need to be sure.”
“I’m sure that I want this,” Lena manages to get out through the thick feeling in the back of her throat.
“I mean everything else,” Kara clarifies. “Sure about me.”
The truth sits on the tip of Lena’s tongue, scrambles to get loose, but she bites against the I have always been sure about you that threatens to break her.
“I want you in any and every universe,” Kara confesses and Lena’s sure she’s going to have a stroke with the way her chest feels. Everything has gotten far more serious than she ever intended, and she feels like the farther they walk down this path the harder it will be to turn back. “I don’t care about all that stuff back home, like how I’m Supergirl, and you’re trying to rebuild your company, and your mother is apparently some supervillain and all that. I don’t care.”
Silence stretches for a tense moment until Kara’s saying words in Kryptonian that slice across Lena’s insides. Words Lena was sure she’d never hear again. They’re the closest thing Kara’s language has to an I love you and it smacks into Lena like something physical.
“Kara,” Lena says with a shake of her head. She swipes a finger at the corner of her eye and keeps her jaw tight.
“So, I don’t care about all that other stuff, but I know that you do,” Kara continues with kind, understanding eyes that Lena’s not sure she deserves. “I respect that. I’m just not going to do this with you until…” She shakes her head, shrugs a little. “Until I can have all of you. Not just this fleeting moment in another universe.”
“I’m sorry,” Lena croaks and her throat starts to ache with the strain it takes to keep from crying.
Kara paces forward then, reaches out to wind her hand around Lena’s neck with solid, profound pressure. “Don’t be,” she murmurs. They’re close together again and just the sudden invasion of her senses with Kara threatens to break lose the dam keeping her tears back. “You have to know it’s not because-”
Lena’s gaze snaps to Kara and she sees the want in her face mixed up with all the other emotions. It’s in the way Kara’s eyes flit down to her mouth and the way the hand on the back of her neck is warm and tight.
“It’s not because I don’t want to,” Kara finishes. “I’m always going to want you.”
It does nothing to quash the desire to press forward and kiss Kara again, but her words are echoing around in Lena’s skull and she understands on a deep level that this isn’t something they should do now, here, no matter how much she aches for it.
Lena lets out a watery laugh that comes out a little more bitter than she intends, but she reaches up to grip the forearm resting against her shoulder. “I know,” she whispers, sagging into the hold Kara has on her neck. “It’s the champagne,” she jokes, if only to get the emotional waterfall they’re standing under to ease a little.
“It’s not,” Kara denies, staying serious in a way that tethers Lena to the moment. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the day in the park.”
Lena’s chest feels tight with the memory of it, the memory she’s been desperate to hold onto. It’s a feeling she’s so sure is going to evaporate as soon as they step foot through the portal to their Earth.
“Since the day I walked into your office with Clark, really, but in the park it felt -”
“Yeah,” Lena says, clearing her throat and trying to smile. “I know. Me too.”
“I have waited four years for you to come back,” Kara whispers between them and Lena’s heart shatters. It feels like standing in a regional airport years ago with Kara dropping hushed affection as Lena made a decision that would change both of their lives. “I can wait longer.”
It’s an awful feeling to be caught between telling Kara not to wait around for something Lena isn’t positive she’ll ever really let herself have, and the desperate feeling to drown in the security Kara’s words give her. She isn’t sure where Kara gained some kind of infinite capacity for patience, but it’s clear she has and it only makes Lena feel like she keeps making the same mistakes with Kara. Keeps hurting her.
“When did you get so patient?”
Kara makes an indignant scoffing sound. “I’ve always been patient.”
“You don’t have a patient bone in your body,” Lena teases, but Kara doesn’t laugh, just looks seriously into Lena’s eyes.
“I do when there’s something worth waiting for.”
The silence between them then is profound Lena feels like it’s something tangible, settling over her shoulders and pressing against her chest.
“I’m afraid I’m just going to hurt you again,” Lena confesses and it’s at odds with her actions earlier - as if she didn’t realize that attempting to cross a line on Earth-1 wouldn’t have consequences on Earth-38.
“Lena,” Kara says, drawing the name out into a smile. Their foreheads press together and Kara sighs. “I have never in my life regretted a single moment you and I have spent together. Even the painful ones.” She pauses, takes in an unsteady breath and repeats the words in Kryptonian. I love you.
The tears come then, unable to be restrained any longer, and she hates the creeping feeling of despair that’s threading around her spine. Lena has regrets. A wealth of them actually. But she doesn’t tell Kara that, doesn’t let her know how much it aches to think about the list of things she’d change about their history if given the chance.
It goes against every single thing Lena knows they need, every single boundary she’s set up between them and she knows that there’s just no going back after she says it, but it’s too hard to keep it in anymore.
“I love you too,” she says in a shaky whisper, even though the words feel like they burst out of her, crashing through all her walls to smack Kara in the chest. It feels a little like a weight has come off of her entire body.
“I know,” Kara replies after a few seconds, the words coming out on a wet sounding laugh. She picks her head up to press a warm kiss to Lena’s forehead and Lena leans into the feeling, her eyes closing briefly. “That was never our problem.”
Lena laughs mirthlessly, her fingers reach out a redo a few buttons on Kara's shirt just to have something to do. "This weekend felt amazing," Lena says softly. "Thank you."
"That feeling doesn't have to stay here," Kara tells her in a whisper, but Lena doesn't know how to believe that. She nods anyway and Kara looks at her sadly, but doesn't push.
Then Kara steps away, holding out her hand for Lena to take and pulling the extrapolator out of her pocket and holding it up.
“Come on,” Kara says, with a wry grin. “Let’s go home.”
Home had always been a fleeting concept to Lena, but as her palm slides over Kara’s, the solid, sure pressure of it grounds her in the same way it always has. It feels like the park when they were all wrapped up in each other. Go home, Lena thinks. She hasn’t left home for the past week.