Enough with the suit already. It’s a badass suit, but I’m the one in the badass suit, so I should be the one to tell her.

fic - supergirl - lord, save me from your followers (8/8)

Kara, perhaps out of a want for thoroughness in her story, perhaps out of a Millennial-born urge to creep on a the social media of a woman she finds intriguing, discovers that Lena Luthor has a pretty active following on Instagram one afternoon not long after their first meeting. She debates it, just for a moment, before following Lena.

It’s after midnight when the protests get bad. Kara’s phone is at 20% battery and both sides are pushing against the NCPD barricades set up to keep them separate and safe. Kara’s jittery, her fingers shaking as she tweets, staying half a step behind Hieu and his camera. Jeff’s pushing through the throng of the anti-alien protest, speaking to anyone will listen to him.  Kara’s dismayed to see two California congressmen, as well as a few state assembly members and local government officials in the crowd. She makes sure that the #CatCoLive hashtag identifies all of them.

People are bumping against her, pressing in on her at all sides. Kara backs out slowly, careful not to touch anyone. She’s not used to crowds like this, not used to being surrounded by people and knowing that all she has to do is move wrong and she’ll send someone flying.  There was a reason she never went to a concert again after that MCR one Alex dragged her to in high school, it was too claustrophobic, too intolerable.

When she breaks free, she calls Alex.  Fidgets until Alex picks up. “This is a situation for her but I can’t get away,” she says.  She’s not going to say Supergirl in a place so crowded.  

“We don’t want her to show up,” Alex answers.  “It’d fuck up the plan.”

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