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It’s late. She knows it’s late, but she didn't know what else to do. She had stumbled out of Lex’s hideout in a daze, chartering a flight to Metropolis and texting Sam before she’d even processed that she’d taken out her phone. By the time the plane lands, Lena’s pulled herself together, and by the time her car pulls up in front of Sam’s house, she’s already sent her pilot a case of champagne as a thank you.
The downstairs lights are on despite the hour, yellow light spilling onto the front lawn, and Sam opens the front door before Lena’s even out of the car. She leans against the doorjamb, arms crossed with a curious but tired expression on her face as she watches Lena walk up the pathway toward the house.
Lena wonders not for the first time in the last few hours if she’s overstepped, made a mistake in reaching out for Sam and showing up almost unannounced at who knows what hour of night. Anxiety pools in her stomach as she climbs up the steps, but Sam just smiles tiredly at her and pulls her into a hug so warm and familiar her eyes water.
She allows herself to sag against Sam, tucks her head into Sam’s shoulder, boneless as she exhales properly for the first time in hours. Sam is solid against her, strong arms all but holding her up, and Lena treats herself to it just this once.
“I’m sorry to keep you up and barge in on you like this.”
Sam gives her an extra squeeze and pulls back, holding onto Lena’s shoulders as she dips her head to catch Lena’s gaze. “I’ve been telling you for years that you need a hug and some therapy. I’m not going to scold you for taking my advice.”
Lena snorts, “You’re not a therapist.”
“No,” Sam says, stepping fully back into the house. She gracefully picks up an already poured glass of wine and hands it to Lena, and the rest of Lena’s anxiety melts away when she sees a fresh pair of folded pajamas and a pillow perched on the couch. “I’m not, but I researched a list of them for you while you were on your flight. It’s in your inbox.”
Lena glares at her for a moment but relents when Sam raises an eyebrow at her.
“Thanks,” Lena says quietly. She sips her wine.
Sam smiles at her. “Alright, Luthor. Let’s hear it.”
Lena winces, gaze dropping to the ground.
“I almost killed Kara tonight.”
Sam freezes, wine glass dangling precariously in her hand. She lowers herself slowly onto the couch. “I think I’m going to need a little more than that, Lena.”
“I didn’t- it wasn’t- it’s not-” Lena stops, frustrated, and presses her thumb into her eyebrow. She shakes her head and starts over. “It’s not how it sounds, not really. Can I sit?”
Sam nods, and as Lena sits she marvels at the open expression on Sam’s face, faith in her she’s not sure she deserves, faith she always thought Kara had in her.
“She- Supergirl chased after me at one of Lex’s hideouts and his defense systems almost shot her down with kryptonite cannons. I barely shut them down in time.”
“Lex’s cannons?” Sam asks.
Lena nods, then regales Sam with the events of the evening that she already wants to forget, and by the end of her story, she can’t place Sam’s expression at all.
“His countermeasures armed with regular missiles first, which I let fly, but when those didn’t faze her, they automatically re-armed with kryptonite and wouldn’t allow an override, and she just stayed there watching me with her hands up. She wasn’t even trying to get away, she just-” Lena cuts herself off, her throat feeling thicker than usual and her eyes filled with tears. She notices her wine glass is trembling in her hand.
“She just looked at me. Another second longer, Sam, and I-” she shakes her head and takes a large sip of wine to steady herself. She’s not sure it’s working.
“Lena,” Sam’s voice is soft, but her face is determined as she calls Lena back from her thoughts. “You didn’t nearly kill her. To me it sounds like you saved her.”
Lena snorts. “If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have almost died in the first place.”
“Don’t you think she could have left when you, I don’t know, fired an actual missile at her?” Sam looks at her incredulously. “Wasn’t that a big enough hint? And don’t you think she could have flown away when she saw the kryptonite instead of just standing there waiting to be shot at?”
“She probably had a whole superhero speech prepared that she didn’t want to waste,” Lena rolls her eyes.
She lets out a long breath, staring down into the dregs of her wine. Then she shrugs, the snark draining out of her. “I can’t get that image out of my head, of her with her hands up just looking at me and waiting for me to gun her down with the only thing that could actually hurt her.”
Lena breaks her stare with the bottom of her wine glass and looks up at Sam, eyes pleading.
“You’re not a bad person, Lena,” Sam says softly, grasping Lena’s hand. “You didn’t program Lex’s defense system or set it to automatically shoot down Kryptonians. You stopped it from firing.”
“Yeah, the second round,” Lena scoffs, rolling her eyes at herself. “I actively deployed the first round. What am I doing, Sam, firing military-grade missiles at my best friend?”
Sam turns, facing Lena fully on the couch and leveling her with a glare. “When you know military-grade missiles wouldn’t even bruise her?”
Lena drops her gaze. She picks at a feather sticking out of the couch until Sam bats her hand away.
“And when she ripped your whole world to shreds and didn’t even have the decency to tell you about it?”
Sam is looking at her with a raised eyebrow, and Lena allows the corner of her mouth to quirk up in acknowledgment. “All that world-ripping, and the only thing I’ll let myself do back is yell at her.”
“And fire a couple missiles at her,” Sam says cheekily, a small smile spreading over her face.
Lena lets it cheer her up for a moment and smiles back, waving her hand dismissively, “Oh what does she care? Couple of gnats buzzing around.”
Sam snorts. Lena sobers, “But the kryptonite cannons… my heart stopped.” Lena trails off into a whisper.
Sam nods, “It would have killed her.”
“It would have killed her,” Lena agrees. “And she would have let me.”
They’re quiet for a moment, sitting together on the couch. Lena pours herself another glass of wine and downs half of it.
“A big part of me wanted to hurt her, Sam, maybe still does. But not like that, I could never-”
“I know,” Sam cuts her off.
She’s looking at Lena strangely, searching her face, and Lena steels herself.
“That’s not the only thing I wanted to say,” Lena whispers. “That’s just the background, really.”
“Shooting missiles at your best friend is just the exposition?” Sam teases, trying for levity, but she sobers at the look on Lena’s face.
“I, um,” Lena takes a deep breath then, glancing at Sam before looking around the living room to distract herself. She sees pictures of Ruby and Sam together, books, an unfinished art project, a photo of herself and Sam from Alex’s birthday party. “I think you probably know all of this already, but just let me say it, okay? I need to say it out loud.”
Sam nods.
“I love her.”
Sam’s expression softens, and Lena’s heart thumps wildly in her chest. The tips of her ears burn hot when she exhales shakily. “And yes, she did rip my world to shreds, but she also broke my heart. I think I broke hers too, but it didn’t feel as good as I thought it would.”
Lena sighs, digging the palm of her hand into her eyebrow. “I thought I was past it because of all this. I’m so disgusted,” she pauses to gulp down the rest of her wine and sets the glass down a little too roughly, “and hurt and betrayed. Again. I was so sure that I hated her, but I don’t.”
She looks up at Sam wearily and then closes her eyes, resting her forehead in her hand. “She could have died tonight, and I’m in love with her.”
When Lena doesn’t continue Sam nods to herself absently, “I may or may not have figured a lot of that out already.” She says it with caution, watching as Lena uncurls herself and leans her head back against the couch to stare up at the ceiling.
“I know,” Lena murmurs. She lets her head roll to the side to look at Sam. “I don’t know what to do.”
Sam blows out a breath. “There’s nothing to do but give it time,” she says quietly, “and when you’re ready, if you want, let her explain herself.”
Nodding once, Lena slumps into the couch and curls into herself again, but Sam stands and holds her hands out. “None of that. C’mere.”
Lena lets Sam pull her up and falls into her arms. Sam grips her tightly, and Lena indulges in the way it melts away the nervous tension in her stomach. “You are not a villain, Lena, not even close. All you do is good” Sam says to her, rubbing a hand over her upper back. “Don’t let anyone make you forget that.”
“I needed that,” Lena whispers as Sam lets her go. “And thanks for… everything.”
“Anytime,” Sam gestures at the pajamas on the couch. “Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning. And Lena… we’ll figure this all out.”
She waves goodnight as she heads up the stairs. Lena watches her go, a warm, content feeling settling into her bones as she snuggles into the couch and reaches for her phone. When she unlocks it she finds an email from Sam, a list of half a dozen therapists with a copious amount of notes and commentary from Sam staring back at her from her phone screen. Rolling her eyes affectionately, Lena pins the email for the morning and goes to bed.