Supergirl One-Shots

And I am your future, and I am your past (never forget we were built to last)

Whether it's two days or two years, Mon-El will never get used to seeing Kara like this.

A painter's brush has added streaks of deep purple and green around her closed eyes, colored her usually vibrant face a pale gray. It's beautiful in the most painful kind of way.

The Legion ship is dark, shadows creeping up the walls. The only light comes from the glowing buttons next to Kara's healing tank and the small bulb inside it, illuminating her battered face.

Mon-El stands alone, eyes glued to his former love. It's way past midnight and even Alex has gone to sleep, but Mon-El can't bring himself to leave Kara's side. To tear his eyes from where she floats, suspended in the orange liquid, her hair billowing like some sort of sea goddess. She hasn't so much as twitched her finger since she was placed inside, but he can't help but feel her presence.

"Mon-El?" A hand tentatively touches his arm, and Mon-El starts, half-expecting (or maybe hoping) it to be Kara's.

Imra must notice his expression, for she hastily retracts her hand. "You should really get some sleep," she says softly, her face the very picture of concern. "It's late. And the ship will tell us if something happens."

"I just..." Mon-El's gaze flits back to Kara against his will. "I don't want her to wake up alone," he finishes in almost a whisper.

Imra swallows and nods, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them, and he mentally curses himself for being this transparent. For having something to hide in the first place.

"Why don't you go back to bed," he offers timidly. "I'll be right there."

Imra smiles, a real smile, and kisses his cheek before she leaves the room, her touch burning his skin.

Mon-El looks back at Kara one last time. Come back, he thinks desperately. Come back to me.

Of course, she is as still as always.

Mon-El sighs and turns to leave.

A muffled thud from behind stops him in his tracks. He whirls around and realizes with a start that Kara is no longer immobile. Or unconscious, for that matter. Her fists pound against the white dwarf glass, bubbles streaming from her mouth as her body struggles to process the newfound lack of oxygen. She's drowning.

Mon-El lunges for the control panel, mashing the buttons in a frantic attempt to free her, his heart pounding so hard it feels like it wants to exit his body.

The technology refuses to cooperate, but he underestimated Kara. Her fist connects with the glass one last time, and it shatters. Mon-El catches her just before she hits the ground, uncaring of the fact that his shirt is now soaked through as he lowers her to the floor.

Ragged gasps claw their way from Kara's throat as she coughs up water, leaning into him with her dripping hair hanging down and covering her face. Mon-El rubs her back soothingly, too focused on his task to think about the fact that it's been over seven years since he's held her like this.

"It's okay, I'm here, you're safe," he murmurs into the shell of her ear, the words slipping out with ease as if it were just days ago he was helping her through a claustrophobia-induced panic attack. Another shuddering breath is drawn in and he repeats his actions. "Just breathe, Kara. Just breathe."

"Who—" She pauses to cough up another mouthful of water, pushing away the wet strands hanging in her face so she can meet his gaze. Her azure eyes are understandably filled with confusion, but he's wrong about why.

"Who are you?"

Mon-El's heart stops.