609. Chapter 609

The silence meant it was real.

The silence meant it was over.

The silence meant she was alone.

She thought she’d healed.

Well, until she found out that Astra was alive.

Until the Black Mercy.

Until Myriad.

Until the Daxamites.

She thought she’d healed, because the claustrophobia episodes went away.

Alex had helped.

Alex had always helped.

Alex was the only reason she’d ever felt at home on this planet.

Alex was the only reason she’d stopped feeling completely trapped and alone.

But in these flashes that Psi gave her? In the hell Psi locked her into?

There was no Alex.

There was no… anyone.

Just herself.

Just herself and the void of space and the debris of her planet, the vaporized gasses that were once her people.

Her teachers and her friends and her cousins and her parents.

The people she smiled and said hello to every morning on her way to the academy.

The people who would smile and talk about what potential she had, about how whether she followed in her mother’s footsteps or her father’s, she would be one of Krypton’s greatest.

Now she would Krypton’s… only.

An entire planet, an entire people.

Contained in one tiny, terrified body, contained in one tiny, battered pod.

Completely trapped.

Completely alone.

Under Psi’s influence, there was no Alex to hold her. No Alex to spend hours in the library looking up techniques for Kara to fight off her worst fears. No Alex to spend years in the lab synthesizing Kryptonian medications to help Kara fight off her worst fears.

No Alex to fight away the trappedness, the aloneness.

It was just… her.

Alone.

Like she’d been all those years ago.

All the defenses she’d learn over the years, all the coping mechanisms she’d refined, all the love she’d filled some of her deep void with… gone.

Completely and utterly… gone.

And she couldn’t imagine them ever coming back.

She couldn’t remember what hope was.

What together meant.

“You’re marrying Maggie, Alex, and you should, you should,” she chokes, because she realizes. “But I’m pushing everyone away, even you, and I don’t… I don’t have an anchor anymore. I feel like I’ll just… I’ll just float away, like I’ve locked myself back in my pod, like… Like I can never get out, no matter how much time passes, no matter…”

Her voice breaks, because her heart breaks, and Alex’s breaks along with her.

She scoots forward and she wraps her little sister in her arms, kissing her hair and whispering wordlessly into her ear.

“You’re out, Kara. You’re not in your pod, and you never will be again.” She feels Kara shaking her head, so she pulls back and looks her deep in the eyes.

“It’ll never stop hurting, Kara. Losing your family, your people, your whole planet. It’ll never stop hurting. I wish that it would, and I wish I could take it from you, Kara, but… but I can promise you that it’s not always going to feel like it does right now. It’s not always going to be this intense. I promise. And you can never push me too far away that I won’t come back. The same goes for this whole family we’ve made together. You… you’ll always have anchors here, Kara. Always.”

“I just want it to stop,” Kara moans as she starts to shake, as she starts to sob. Alex gathers her into her arms.

“I know,” she whispers. “I know you do. But you don’t have to go through it alone, Kara. You’re not trapped. You’re not alone. You never will be again, okay? You’ll never not have me. You’re kinda stuck with me.”

Alex nudges her and Kara nudges her back weakly, a small, pained smile starting to form on her lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that… was that a Kara Danvers smile just there?” Alex pokes at her cheeks, and Kara squeals and her smile deepens, but she doesn’t move away.

Because she never wants to move away from this – from love – again.