Work Text:
For a moment, the people of National City had become mindless drones for the invading Kryptonians. But Supergirl had been able to save the day yet again with her hope and optimism. Now, everything seemed to be back to normal.
When Kara came in your office, you had no idea what to expect. She started this little speech of hers, and it sounded too much like goodbye. You didn’t know why it was, so you just had to ask if there was anything that was wrong.
You hoped that Kara would finally tell you, but she had just deflected, as you expected. Acting as if everything was alright, like it was just another day at the office before she left. But you could see it --her smile was a bit dim, her eyes less sparkly, like she was resigned to whatever fate that awaited her next. You don’t understand, Supergirl had already saved the day, shouldn't she be more relieved?
If she didn’t want to share, it wasn’t your place to push. Not after what happened before. Kara seemed to be content to maintain status quo and dance around the topic. If she couldn’t put her trust in you, you could live with that --even if you had worked together to save the city.
Then it happened. The blinding pain. You couldn’t move, everyone was on their knees clutching at their heads. Something was terribly wrong. National City wasn’t safe yet.
You think of your boys. Of Carter, your sweet, special boy. Of Adam, who you’ll never get to know after finally, finally being able to be back in each others lives.
You think of Kara. You think of the goodbye underneath her words, and you suddenly understand.
---
When the pain had subsided, everyone was confused. News teams were deployed, the world might have almost ended, but it was still CatCo’s responsibility to report the facts, to keep the populace from panicking.
One of your news crews had reported seeing a speck of blue and red underneath an alien looking construct being flown into the sky. Your heart constricts, and you think ‘Kara. Kara. Kara.’
---
As the doors to your private elevator opens the next day, you’re greeted by Kara and her signature Sunny Danvers smile, holding a cup of that moon juice smoothie you asked for the day before. It was as if a physical weight had been taken off your shoulders, the vice grip on your heart had been released and you could suddenly feel yourself breathe.
Kara was alive, and whole and well. She was able to prevent the end of the world, and she was able to come back. You’re tired of pretending that you don’t know what you already know, but you are just relieved. So very relieved that you don’t mind right that moment.
You don’t know when this girl, your 10:15 that swore that she was 100% normal, had wormed her way into your heart. This girl that had been willing to give everything, even her life, to save the world.
You think of possibilities, of hope. You think about the future.
You promote her a few hours later.