Author: Ashley

Title: Waking Up Without You

Rating: M

Part: 1/3

Pairing: Mon-El and Kara Danvers (Zor-El)

Word Count (Part One): 2,840

Summary: "There were moments where she thought that she was okay; the times where she almost forgot that he wasn't around. Then she'd remember, and it was like a montage of scenes would go through her head. A constantly playing loop that would remind her of everything she loved about him; everything he did that would make her laugh; everything he did that would make her feel special. A constant loop reminding her that he was in fact gone." - Post 2x22: Nevertheless, She Persisted. Mon-El who is now immune to lead finds his way back to Kara.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supergirl, DC Comics or anything related to such things. The ideas, dialogue and plot points were inspired by the show, but they are my own. Plagiarism isn't nice. Please don't steal my ideas.

A/N: Hi there!

Apparently I'm taking a little break from "Finding Our Way Back" because I'm posting this piece for you all. I finished it a few days ago and just really wanted to get it out there even though I'm in the middle of FOWB.

It's going to be a three-part reunion fic that takes place five months after 2x22: Nevertheless, She Persisted. IT WILL BE SAD (with a Happy Ending of course). I'm sorry. I swear, I don't know where all this angst is coming from, but you might want to get your tissues ready for this one as I sobbed while writing it. Apologies, as I think I just needed to get some of the finale sadness out.

As always, thank you for reading, for the kudos and the comments and the general love!

(Also Happy Canada Day out there to all my fellow Canadians! Here's to another 150 great years!)

Part One

"You're okay," she told him.

"Kara-"

"I've got you," she felt him falling into her as they walked.

"Kara-" he tried again.

"No, no," she shushed him. "Don't talk. Just save your energy." He coughed harshly as he turned to face her.

"There's something I need to say," his eyes locked onto hers as his hand slid aside the hair that had fallen in her face. "Wherever I go, I'm going to be better because of you." He paused and she could feel herself falling apart, struggling not to cry. "You'll be in my heart," he coughed, "I promise I'm going to be the man," he gasped, desperately trying to take in air, "…that you thought I could be. I promise."

She couldn't blink away the tears anymore. "You've made me so happy," she cracked a broken smile at him. Then the idea came to her, her hands grasping at the chain that was always around her neck. "Here, here," she removed the keepsake, holding it up in the air as she took his hand. "Take this." She closed his hand around the necklace, both her hands holding his tightly, "This will keep you safe." He pulled her toward him in a kiss, gasping against her mouth as he struggled to take in each and every breath.

"I love you," she whispered as she broke the kiss, her tears finally escaping after trying for so long to hold them back. "I should have said it before."

"I love you," he repeated back to her.

Their lips connected again briefly before she tore away from him, "Okay, okay, you have to go. You have to go!" She urged him as he started to turn and move toward the pod, sliding in and sealing it up.

She told him that she'd take him somewhere safe. If only they'd decided before he'd gotten into that pod. If only they'd taken a second to think of somewhere together. If only she'd known where it was that he had planned to go. At least then she'd know; where he was, what he was likely doing, if he was happy, if he was safe.

She shouldn't have cut him off while they moved toward the pod. She shouldn't have wasted time on the walk over. She should have let him say everything he wanted to say and then maybe there would have still been time for him to tell her. Maybe then she'd have some, if only very little, peace of mind.

That was five months ago and she still thought about that moment every second of the day; when he'd sealed up the pod and shot into the sky.

It hit her hard every day.

Every time she'd turn around and expect him to be there at her side. Every time she'd make a joke and expect to hear him laughing somewhere nearby. Every time she'd roll over in bed, looking for his body, expecting his arms to wrap around her.

And then she'd remember that he wasn't there.

He wasn't going to be there.

He wasn't coming back.

Ever.

She knew she had to be strong. He was going to go off and be a hero. She needed to continue to be a hero here. A hero like she'd been teaching him to be; like they were both supposed to be. The people of National City needed her to be strong. But it was hard to be strong when you were crumbling inside and didn't know how to put yourself back together.

The hardest part was putting up the front. Spending all day pretending that you were okay. The agents at the DEO would smile at her and she knew what kind of smile that was: pity. They all knew what she had lost. They'd ask how she was doing, ask her if she needed anything, ask her how they could help and she just had to nod, plaster on something that resembled a smile and say that she was fine, that she didn't need anything from them, that she was going to be okay.

There were moments where she thought that she was okay; the times where she almost forgot that he wasn't around. Then she'd remember, and it was like a montage of scenes would go through her head. A constantly playing loop that would remind her of everything she loved about him; everything he did that would make her laugh; everything he did that would make her feel special.

A constant loop reminding her that he was in fact gone.

She stood in front of the door to her apartment, key in hand, but she was having trouble putting it in the lock. Not physically, of course. Emotionally. She didn't want to go inside there because she knew what would greet her.

Nothing.

Silence.

Darkness.

Only empty rooms.

Memories.

The memories were the worst part. As much as she loved and wanted to cling to and remember every little thing about him, it just hurt too much.

But she couldn't spend all night standing out here in the hallway, so she forced herself to find that one last piece of strength she could find today and open the door.

She threw her purse on the table, kicked off her shoes and pulled the glasses from her face.

She hadn't eaten all day. Her eyes moved to the stove.

"Happy Monday!" he called out as he turned away from the stove to look at her, that silly too-small apron draped over his chest and tied around his back.

She had stumbled into the kitchen, pyjamas still on, hands rubbing at her sleepy eyes. "You're up early for someone who had to work late last night," she stated as her eyes looked to the clock on the wall.

"I wanted to make sure you had a good breakfast before you started your first full week back at work."

She smiled. She'd gotten her job at CatCo back last week, but this was technically her first full week back. The giant plate of homemade pancakes and French toast showed just how excited he was for her at the miniscule celebratory moment in her life and she couldn't suppress her smile.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," she shook her head as she sat down on the stool across from him. "I've already been back at work three days."

"I wanted to do it," he smiled as he leaned in, pecking her cheek with a kiss as he did every morning over breakfast.

"Well, thank you," she sighed, her hand reaching up and cupping his chin. "I'm glad you like cooking. You spoil me," she grinned at him.

"I'd do anything for you, Kara."

Come to think of it, she wasn't hungry after all.

Maybe there was a movie on TV that she could watch. Something black and white and old-timey comforting. She moved toward the sofa, her hand scrubbing across her face. She tripped and just barely saved herself from face planting into the coffee table. She looked down to find the culprit of her stumble, but she didn't know why she bothered. She'd tripped over the same thing nearly every night, but she didn't have the heart to move them.

A pair of his sneakers.

His favourite pair.

It was almost comforting to have them still there with her, still next to the sofa exactly where he'd left them. But part of her wished that he'd been wearing them when he'd flown off in that pod. He probably missed them. And maybe if he'd taken them she wouldn't feel that ache in her chest every time her eyes accidentally landed on them.

"Mon-El," she scolded him from the kitchen. "You know the house rules. No shoes on the sofa."

He smirked. She couldn't even see him from where she was. She just knew him too well. "Yes, Kara. I'm well aware of your ridiculously strict loft-policies." He toed off his sneakers, sliding them into the corner by the arm of the sofa.

She moved toward him and whacked him in the chest with the back of her hand.

"Ow," he feigned hurt as his left leg and now shoeless foot moved onto the sofa again, his right staying put on the floor, his thighs widening to make room for her. She plopped down on the sofa, her body cradled against his, popcorn bowl in her hands as she leaned against his chest. His hand reached down and pulled the blanket on top of their lower halves and underneath the popcorn bowl. Her head fell back into his shoulder.

"My 'ridiculously strict loft-policies' are what help to keep the chaos and mayhem out of our apartment."

His smile was wide and she felt it against her cheek. "What's so funny?" she asked, angling her head to the side as her hand moved to his face, tilting his gaze toward her.

"You said 'our apartment'," he spoke softly.

A quick hint of worry went through her as her hand fell from his cheek. "Well," she started. "I mean, it feels like 'our' apartment. Should I not-"

"No, no," he smiled. "I like that. Our apartment."

She sniffled as she slid his shoes back into place; neatly sitting them next to each other on the floor at the edge of the sofa's arm.

Screw this. She didn't want any of this. She just wanted to shower the day away and fall into bed. Hopefully her dreams tonight would be actual dreams and not nightmares; reliving the nightmare of them in that field standing next to the pod; the nightmare of losing him all over again.

She dragged her feet through the living room, nearly walking into the drapery hanging from her ceiling as she moved into her bedroom. She pulled at her clothing, tugging the pieces off her body and throwing them aside; garments flying into the corner on her way to the bathroom. She flicked the light on and sighed as she stared at the shower.

The water pelted against her back; the temperature scalding, but she was Supergirl - she didn't even notice. She ran her hands through her hair, aiming to rinse all the shampoo out when she felt the movement behind her, a gust of wind flipping around her as he moved the shower curtain enough to step inside with her.

"Morning…" he mumbled against her back, his lips kissing between her shoulder blades, "…again." His hardness was pressing into her lower back as his hips leaned into her.

"You are insatiable this morning," she whispered at him, eyes closed as she continued to work the suds through her hair. She paused, "Who am I kidding? You're insatiable every morning. And afternoon. And evening."

He kissed the back of her neck, "It's you, Kara," he breathed against her shoulder. "You do this to me. Every moment of every day. I always want you."

His hands slid around her waist, the fingers of his right hand skimming over her bellybutton before dipping lower and sliding through the trimmed hairs covering her sex.

"Mon-El," she sighed, leaning back into him, her stance widening. "We really can't. We're gonna be late."

"Late? It's Saturday."

"DEO, Mon-El. You know that. We have to be there soon." His hand slid lower, sliding between the lips of her sex and moving against her opening. "We have a city to protect," she groaned out as her legs quivered.

"We won't need very long. I'll be fast," he promised as his thumb flicked across her clit. She let out a moan as her face fell into the crook of his neck.

"Fast, please," she whispered, her hand trailing down and falling on top of his own between her legs.

"Yes, ma'am." His hand moved away from her sex, moving to her hip to join his other as he bent her forward, her hands falling to rest on the wall in front of her as he entered her from behind.

She wiped at the tears that were slipping from her eyes. She couldn't even shower in her own damn apartment without being accosted by memories of him. She flicked the light back off.

She'd shower tomorrow.

She moved toward her dresser drawers, pulling out one of his shirts and moving to put it on. She didn't have the strength in her to part with his things. She wouldn't know what to do with them. She didn't want them to go to somebody else. Not when she still saw him in everything. She selfishly wanted to keep his things in her apartment, within her view, as sad as that often made her feel.

Her favourite part of the day had quickly become night time. The time when she could (try to) block out the memories and close her eyes and drift off to sleep. It was the time when she could dream about the life they would never get to have; the things they still hadn't and never would experience together. She could dream about all those holiday dinners they wouldn't share, the birthdays they couldn't celebrate together, the wedding they'd never have, the children they'd never bring into this world.

At least if she were asleep, she wouldn't have to put up that front to make people think she was okay when she wasn't.

But sometimes she'd wake up crying; she'd reach behind herself and only come up empty, her hand grasping at and getting tangled in the cold sheets next to her. Then she was angry at herself because she couldn't stop crying. She'd lie there in the darkness, tears easily flowing as she wondered where he was.

She didn't need all the answers; she just needed something. Something to let her know that he was okay. That he was alive. That he had made it wherever he had planned to go. That he was happy. She just wanted him to be happy. She knew she wasn't, but she'd be okay if he was happy.

Instead she was stuck here without knowing anything. Worrying every day about something she was sure she'd never get answers about. Worrying about something that she wasn't able to control, wasn't able to fix, no matter how badly she wished that she could.

Her feet padded toward her bed. She was glad that her body was on autopilot because her brain was too sad and unfocused to tell her muscles what to do. She slid into bed, her eyes to the window, up at the stars in the night sky. She wondered if he was still floating out there somewhere. It had been a long time, but maybe he knew of somewhere that was a little farther away than she had imagined. Maybe he hadn't even gotten there yet. Maybe it would take years of floating through space for him to arrive.

"What're you looking for?" he asked at a whisper against her ear in the darkness. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her body close to his as their legs tangled together, hands intertwining.

"Nothing really," she whispered back. "Just thinking about what could be floating out there in space right now. I mean…you fell from the sky. So did I. I just wonder who else is out there…on their way to our Earth. Just trying to find a new home."

He kissed her shoulder as she continued her thoughts aloud.

"Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to have you land here. Out of all the places on Earth that you could have fallen, you fell here. How we both landed in the same part of this world will never make sense to me."

"Maybe it was just meant to be," he smiled as he stared up at the stars from behind her. "We were just supposed to find each other."

"I'm glad you chose to stay here, Mon-El. To make this city your home."

"You're my home, Kara. This is where I belong. I don't want to be anywhere else."

She rolled over and moved onto his side of the bed. His pillow didn't smell like him anymore and the sheets always felt extra cold on this side, but she could at least usually fall asleep here…after a while.

She only slept on his side of the bed on the most difficult of nights; the nights when she felt like she couldn't breathe; the nights when she felt like the walls were closing in on her; the nights when she wasn't sure how she was going to wake up and face the day tomorrow.

But she had to.

She had to be strong. She knew he was strong. He'd want her to carry on without him. He knew she had important things to do in this world, whether he was here beside her or not.

So she closed her eyes, willed her breathing to stay even and hoped that sleep would come, along with a comforting dream of the man she loved.

A/N: Thanks for reading! It gets happy soon, I promise!

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