Lena sat on the edge of her bed, kicked off her heels and ran a hand through her hair.

She hadn't been sleeping well ever since Corben's attack on her helicopter – not that she ever slept well, really... But it had been worse since her move to National City. The stress of change had her lying awake at night, staring up at the ceiling and wondering when sleep would come for her.

She stood and headed into the bathroom, staring into the mirror at the shadows under her eyes.

She opened the medical cabinet and her eye caught the two sealed bottles of sleeping pills.

Her doctor had prescribed them for her just a few weeks ago, but she had so far neglected to use them. She had felt that if she did, it would be some sort of defeat. Lena had considered herself far too proud a woman to resort to medication. Why take pills when a few glasses of scotch might work?

But tonight, she reached out for one of the bottles. She read the label, twisted the cap and tipped two pills into her palm.

Would that really be enough to bring her sleep after such a long time?

She tipped another two out.

Lena looked again at the shadows under her eyes.

Another two pills tipped out. She replaced the bottle in the cabinet and closed her hand over the tablets in her palm. She padded across the ridiculously lush carpet in her bedroom and onto the harsh, cold wood flooring of her hallway.

She wandered into the kitchen and opened one of her cupboards, taking down a crystal tumbler.

She went to open the fridge for water, but spotted the half-bottle of scotch sitting on the side next to it. It had been a gift from a client when she took over Luthor Corp and renamed it. The lilac ribbon was still tied in bow around the neck.

If sleep continued to remain elusive... She retrieved the bottled water from the fridge and poured it into her glass.

Lena took all six pills in quick succession and eyed the bottle of whisky again.

She snatched it up and left the kitchen with it and her glass, as if staying in the kitchen a moment longer with it would force her to face the truth of what was going through her mind.

Lena wasn't stupid. She's an engineer, she'd been top of her class at boarding school and college and university. She knew exactly what would happen to her tonight, and she paid it no mind.

It wasn't like she hadn't tried before.

And besides, the dosage was so small she would likely live to tell the tale.

She set the bottle and glass on her nightstand and undressed. She climbed into bed in her underwear and sat up against the headboard.

So far, she felt little change.

She browsed her phone for almost half an hour, not even feeling moderately drowsy.

Lena tossed her phone to the side. She turned and uncapped the scotch, bringing it to her nose for a sniff – it was good, expensive stuff. She half filled her glass, took it in her hand, and stared at it for a while.

Another ten minutes passed. Sleep continued to evade her, so she finished the glass in one go.

She scrolled her phone for another ten minutes, finding herself browsing twitter. As usual, gossip sites were debating her motives as well as her taste in fashion.

She still didn't feel drowsy, so she went into the bathroom again.

This time she chased two pills down with another glass.

Lena stared into the large bathroom mirror. Her attention was caught by the small sigil tattooed in the valley of her breasts.

She remembered getting it very fondly.

Lex had confided in her that his friend, Clark Kent, was actually Superman. When Lillian found out, she had gone totally apeshit about it.

As a show of faith on Lex's side, she'd gone out that day and gotten the House of El sigil inked, right above the little bow in the center of her bra. Lillian had never seen it, she didn't even know it was there.

She traced it for a moment, and was reminded of the young woman who had interviewed her at Clark's side. She was reminded of the young woman who had saved her in the attack of the helicopter, at Superman's side.

She knew those two women were one and the same. It wasn't just her closeness to Clark and to Superman, it was in her smile.

Lena felt the flutter of her heart when she thought about the way Kara Danvers had smiled at her after saying she could have been a reporter.

She crawled back into bed, turning her lamp off as she went.

She absent-mindedly plugged her phone in, thankfully starting to feel the call of slumber.

She heard a flutter of wind outside, but she didn't turn to look at her bedroom balcony.

Lena took a deep breath and expelled it slowly and shakily, as if her lungs didn't want to work any more.

The oxygen she'd taken in struggled to find it's way to her brain, and she felt relief for a few moments before she fell unconcious.

She didn't know how much time had passed before she felt a gentle touch on her forehead, some of her hair swept out of her face and behind her ear.

Lena felt heavy, like she'd sunk deeper into her bed throughout the night.

There was a smell in the air, and she felt another gentle caress of her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she was greeted with the face of sunlight itself.

Kara sat in front of her, looking down at her with worry and fear.

"Supergirl," Lena muttered. Her throat felt dry and hoarse, and her mouth felt like cotton, with an awful taste in it. "What, what are you doing here?"

Kara took her hand from Lena's cheek as she sat up, holding the covers to her chest. She watched as the blonde looked around the room.

"I was on patrol last night," she explained gently. "I was nearby, and... I heard your heartbeat get slower. It was unsteady, I was worried," she muttered, sounding almost embarrassed. "So I came to check on you."

Lena ran a hand through her hair and looked at the clock beside her. "I'm late," she groaned, but when she made to leave the bed, Kara's firm hand stopped her.

"You started throwing up in your sleep around midnight," she told her gently.

Lena could now place the taste as sick, and the smell as bleach.

"You shouldn't have come," she muttered, keeping her gaze on her fiddling hands in her lap.

"You needed help."

"If I started throwing up in my sleep, then clearly I was going to be fine."

"Lena," Kara sighed, setting her hand on top of the other woman's to settle them.

"I'd like you to leave now," she mumbled, then finally looked up into the other woman's eyes.

Kara sighed sadly and nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry for encroaching upon your privacy," she muttered. Kara stood and exited through the balcony doors. She glanced back at Lena and saw that she was starting to cry, but she forced herself up into the sky anyway.

Lena rubbed her eyes angrily then climbed out of bed.

The patch of carpet she stepped on was still slightly damp, and she was actually grateful that Kara had so kindly cleaned up after her.

She dug through her drawers and found an old shirt from MIT, and pulled it on. She picked up her phone and found almost fifty missed calls and texts from Jess, her assistant.

She tapped out a quick text saying that she'd come down with the flu, and asked Jess to reschedule the next couple of days.

She wobbled into the kitchen, still kind of drowsy from the effects of medication and alcohol.

She found that the coffee pot had just boiled, and there was a plate of toast set next to it.

Lena curled up under a blanket on the sofa, slowly powering through the toast that, by now, had gone rather cold.

Part of her wished she hadn't sent Kara away.

About an hour later, Jess sent over a new schedule, giving Lena the next two days free from work, two days to dwell on her thoughts.

She turned the TV on just to have some noise in the background, but she remained in the same spot for several hours.

Her phone beeped as dusk started to approach – it was an unknown number.

How are you feeling? - SG

Lena didn't wonder how Kara had gotten her number, she presumed the hero had her ways.

I'm sorry you had to see me like that this morning. It's certainly not how I envisioned your first visit to my bedroom.

She forced the fake confidence out. She imagined Kara's sputter of embarrassment at receiving her reply.

Kara clearly wasn't in the mood for joking. Do you need to talk about it?

That's what my therapist is for.

Is this the same doctor who prescribed two bottles of sleeping pills to a woman with a history of near death experiences by her own hand?

You can use the word 'suicide', Kara.

You're texting with Supergirl, not 'Kara'.

Do you think I'm stupid enough to be fooled by a ponytail and a pair of glasses?

No response.

Yes, it's the same doctor who gave me sleeping pills knowing I've tried to kill myself before.

The next response took a long while to come through, Lena was ten minutes further into an episode of Desperate Housewives when her phone buzzed again.

How are you feeling, though?

She let out a huff of breath and hugged a pillow to her chest, mulling over her response

I feel nothing. That's the problem.

Again, she didn't get a response.

Thank you for looking after me. I'm sorry I was so rude.

Lena's time off passed, and Kara had texted her twice a day asking how she was. Lena was honest each time. Her mood had improved slightly after being away from her business, and she returned to work with vigor.

The rest she had managed to get from her latest near-death experience seemed to have rejuvinated her, and she had been sleeping a little better since.

The Medusa issue threw her off balance, and so she found herself leaning against the balcony of her office.

She had another glass of scotch in her hand, her third of the evening. She set it down on the ledge, noting that it had plenty of room to be stood on.

So she kicked off her heels and carefully climbed onto it.

It was freeing, to be stood here, to feel the wind rushing past her, high up above the city that seemed to hate her so much.

The cold stung her eyes and she closed them, taking a deep breath of the brisk night air.

There was an extra bristle of wind behind her.

"We need to stop meeting like this," she called out into the night.

The thud of boots came closer behind her. "Stop trying to die, then," she responded easily.

Lena turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at Kara. She was in her Supergirl pose, hands on her hips. "It guarantees me an audience with you."

"You can just call, Lena. You don't have to try and off yourself every time you wanna see me," Kara sighed, letting the pretense of being Supergirl go. "Come down from there, you're giving me a panic attack," she said, coming closer and holding her hand out for Lena to take.

The CEO shook her head.

"I like it up here. It's freeing. Is it bad?"

"Is what bad?"

"That the only time I feel anything is when I'm dying."

Kara remained with her hand out, not knowing what to say.

"If I fell, would you catch me?"

"Without a doubt."

"And if I jumped?"

Kara was quiet for a few moments. "Why make the distinction?"

"If it was truly, truly what I wanted... would you let me go?"

Kara mulled the question over. Yes, it would be Lena's decision, and it wasn't Kara's place to stop her from doing what she truly wanted to do. But... Kara had felt connected to Lena from the first time they met.

"I don't know what I'd do if I had to protect a world that didn't have you in it," she answered honestly, quietly.

She leaned against the balcony next to Lena, pushing the scotch further away from them and looking up at her.

Lena looked calm, almost serene. Like she'd never felt more at peace than in this moment, staring out at the city with the risk of death just a few centimeters from her toes.

"I've tried at least once a year, since I was nineteen," she admitted, her breath forming vapour against the cold night air. "But I've never jumped before. Pills... poison... hanging... I even slit my wrists once."

Kara shuddered, and it wasn't because of the cold. She couldn't push away the image of Lena desperately tearing into her own body for the relief of death.

Lena looked down at Kara, and held out her hand. "Join me."

Kara took Lena's hand, unable to look away from the faint scars she now noticed on the other woman's wrists.

She hesitated, but climbed up onto the ledge to stand next to Lena.

"I'm gonna do it," Lena whispered, wiping her eyes. Kara started next to her, and Lena held up a hand to shush her. "I want you to catch me. At the last moment."

"Lena," she sighed. "What if I don't? What if I fuck up and don't catch you?"

Lena shuffled and turned, facing her office. She held onto Kara's upper arm, and pulled her into an awkward kiss, given their positions.

She kissed the hero with ferver and desperation, like she would find those feelings she so desperately missed hidden in Kara's lips.

They finally parted, Lena's hands let go of Kara, and she took a deep breath.

"I trust you," she whispered.

Her arms came up into the air, she closed her eyes, and tilted on her heels.

It was the most amazing thing she'd ever experienced, and it was over far too soon as Kara crashed to the street with Lena in her arms.

"You're fucking insane," Kara sighed, shooting back up into the sky before people on the sidewalk could start taking photos of Lena Luthor almost having fallen to her death.

"Probably," Lena nodded, stumbling as Kara set her back down on the balcony. She couldn't stop the giddy laugh that tore from her lips. "That was amazing."

Kara looked at her as though she'd grew a second head – Lena was grinning brighter than Kara had ever seen her, and there was a shine in her eyes that had nothing to do with the tears she had shed.

She stepped up to the edge of the balcony again and looked over the side at the street below. Her breathing was heavy. She'd never felt so exhilirated.

Kara stepped up behind Lena as soon as she'd gone near the edge, fearful she'd do it again.

Lena was still grinning, and she turned her head to look at Kara. She reached behind her and took Kara's hands in each of her own, wrapping Kara's arms around her waist and sighing.

Lena was cold, so Kara curled in closer and rested her head on Lena's shoulder.

"I don't think I've ever felt more alive," she admitted, seeing the cityscape in a new light.

They stood there for a long while, just huddled together, staring out at the lights of the night, until Lena tilted her head back and rested it on Kara's shoulder.

"In the morning," she began with a sigh. "I'm going to make an appointment with a new therapist. Hopefully someone who actually cares about my wellbeing."

Kara nodded against her.

"And then at twelve, you're going to meet me for lunch at La Grenouille." Lena pulled one hand from Kara's on her waist, and brought it up to stroke Kara's cheek.

Kara smiled and nodded again. "Yes ma'am... But for now, I'm afraid I have to go," she sighed, picking up sirens in the distance.

Lena nodded in understanding. Before Kara could pull away completely, she turned and pressed her lips to the hero's, far more soft and loving this time.

"Be safe," she muttered, and Kara squeezed her hand before launching herself up into the sky and breaking the sound barrier as she flew across the city.

"So," Kara sighed, sliding into the rounded booth in the back of the ridiculously expensive and fancy restaurant. She smiled at Lena, sitting next to her, and took her hand in both of hers on the table. "How did your appointment go?"

Lena used her free hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. It was perfectly straight today, with a central parting, one of Kara's favourite looks on Lena (who was she kidding, every one of Lena's looks was Kara's favourite).

"Really well, actually," she nodded, her smile almost forced. "I don't think I've ever cried that much in such a short time."

Kara's face fell and she looked at Lena sadly. "That's awful."

"No," the brunette laughed, shaking her head. "It was fantastic. I can't remember the last time I cried so freely."

Kara took a moment, then nodded in understanding. "I think Alex told me once that, like, when people cry, it's a huge stress relief, it can literally feel like the pain or the sadness or whatever is leaving in the little droplets."

Lena nodded her agreement. "Yep, not to mention that tears are actually really good for your skincare," she smiled softly, stroking her own cheek. "The chemical make-up of them helps to wash away toxins and dirt in your pores."

Kara smiled back at her, glad that Lena finally seemed to be getting the help she had always needed.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. "That's what the therapist is for, Kara."

"Right, right, sorry," the blonde laughed, and picked up her menu. "I uh, I heard you made a statement about your plummet last night, but I didn't get a chance to read it."

Lena nodded, sipping at her water. "I thought about what to say for hours after you'd left. I told the press that I was pushed by a disgruntled ex-employee."

"Wouldn't that make it attempted murder?" Kara frowned, pushing her glasses up her nose and trying to understand the French in front of her.

"I've graciously decided not to press charges. Just lucky Supergirl was there to save the day, huh?" Lena smiled.

Kara nodded, frowning. "Uh huh, listen, Lena... What does any of this mean?" she gestured at the menu. "Like... I know it's a French place but there is literally no English on here, and no pictures either. How do I know if I'm ordering a steak or calamari?"

Lena very kindly translated for her for the rest of the evening.

They'd been dating for a year when it happened.

Kara knew Lena was working late, and decided to bring some takeout to her office.

When Kara walked in, she rushed to the balcony.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly.

Lena was stood on the edge again, staring down at the city below.

Kara approached slowly, not wanting to startle her girlfriend.

Lena tilted her head. "You know when you quit drugs or alcohol, and you go to meetings and after a year of sobriety, you get a chip, a symbol of how far you've come and how far you have yet to go?" Her voice was shaky.

"Yeah..." Kara responded quietly, coming up to Lena's side like the last time they'd been in this position.

"It's been a year. Three hundred and sixty five days since I jumped."

Kara remained silent, not knowing how to respond.

"It's been ten years since I went that long without trying."

"Are you going to try?" Kara asked softly, her heart beating rapidly – but Lena's was calm, no stronger or weaker than it normally thrummed.

Lena took a few moments to respond. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "I... I guess I wanted to know how it felt. To be back up here, after so much has changed."

"You're better, now," Kara reminded her, reaching up for Lena's hand and taking it gently.

Lena laughed. "I'll never be better, Kara. This is a sadness that will live with me forever. I can't be cured just because I found love."

Again, Kara had no reply.

"But I have you to dull the ache," she nodded, turning her head to look at her girlfriend.

Kara offered her a smile before she climbed up onto the ledge, too. Lena seemed to sense that Kara had finally realised what it was she wanted to achieve by being up here.

"Go on," Kara prompted, giving Lena a loving, encouraging, yet simultaneously sad smile. "Do it. I'll catch you."