#five more minutes

[autisticlenaluthor]

Supercorptober - Kara

TW: Grief

There’s a plastic pillow Kara sleeps with every night. It’s blue and crunches when laid against, with a thin white case that falls off whenever jostled. It’s so flat— flat like a pancake or another sheet. At least, that’s how Eliza tries to justify it when Kara catches her trying to throw it out while cleaning her room. 

Kara takes the thing back with a speed she didn’t know she possessed and returns it to her bed, making sure it’s known that she is keeping her pillow for as long as she lives. She needs it the way she needs air, and that explanation is bursting to escape. It’s the last thing she has, her last real connection. But there’s no way to say that, no way to ever give its meaning justice when Kara knows Eliza will never truly get it.

Because she was in the waiting room when Kara went with Casey and the EMTs who took a sleeping Lena, still in her bed, up to the helipad on the roof. She didn’t see the helicopter (the life flight, as the hospital called it) and all the medics standing around it, waiting for Lena’s arrival. No, Kara was the one who felt the frigid wind rushing through her hair, prickling at her face from such a height, it made her nauseous just to stand. 

She was the one who felt the chilling loneliness. That indescribable twinge in her chest as she watched them move, counting down seconds in her head until Lena was taken from her. Kara had stood, on an island by herself, surrounded by people, as she watched her best friend be slowly and strategically transferred from her bed to a stretcher, where she was strapped down at the legs, stomach, and chest. She’d been holding her breath when they made the switch, and has been clinging to it ever since. 

When Lena was finally moved, Kara was the one who was handed the plastic pillow she had been lying on for three weeks straight when Casey carefully swapped it out for a clean one. Kara took it and hugged it close to her chest, while Casey adjusted the blankets and stroked Lena’s cheek with her palm. 

Six months later, and Kara’s still hugging that pillow every chance she gets. 

She doesn’t have Lena anymore. She doesn’t know if anyone does.

But she has the thing that kept her best friend comfortable. And on the days when the world seems especially quiet, it makes it that much easier for Kara to keep looking for her.

She sees her in twilight skies, when the air is filled with stars and the orange sunrise after another sleepless night. In the bracelet that hangs from Kara’s wrist, made of string now tinted brown from dirt and wear, so unlike the vibrant green and orange thing it was three years ago. It makes Kara cry at first when she sees a picture of how it used to look; so pretty and put together. But like so many other things, she learns to be okay with it. Because to be loved is to be changed and nothing has changed her more than Lena. 

Lena’s nowhere. But she’s everywhere. 

And suddenly, Kara is eleven years old again, thinking about the girl who bought her vending machine candy and made friendship bracelets with her to distract her from the fact that her parents were dying. She’s looking for Lena in every stranger on the street and every shadow she passes. Wondering if one day, she’ll get lucky and sprain her ankle or break a finger and see her in an Urgent Care waiting room.

She looks for signs the way she does with her parents.

When two bluejays land on Kara’s windowsill on the first day of spring, she knows undoubtedly it’s her mom and dad coming to say hello. And when she spots a double rainbow while walking home from school with Alex in a thunderstorm, she can feel it’s the two of them looking out and making sure they get home safely. 

But with Lena, they’re a double-edged sword. It stings when she’s reminded of just how much she doesn’t know and it stings when she’s hit with the reality that maybe Lena really is gone and maybe these moments aren’t just the universe letting her know she’s alright.

It hurts in ways she’ll never be able to explain to lose both parents in an instant. But for all that pain, at least Kara will never have to wonder again if it’s real. She’ll never fear for the day she’ll be told they were out there all this time but now, they’re dead. 

Kara thinks back to that evening on the helipad more often than she’ll admit. When she’s alone in her room, hugging Lena’s pillow close (the last thing she touched. The last thing of hers) it becomes increasingly harder to filter out those thoughts. 

It was never an emergency. They were transferring her to another hospital– one in Metropolis that the Luthors had bought for her. It was a newer facility with doctors who had bigger names and researchers who in seconds, could put the ones in Gotham to shame. 

Casey had said it was better this way. It meant they’d get to say ‘see you later’ (not goodbye, never goodbye) – a luxury not every loved one gets. And perhaps this hospital was an act of love from the Luthors. They were putting Lena’s needs before theirs, and that had to stand for something. 

Kara doesn’t know.  She doesn’t know anything, except that Lena’s a hundred miles away, or in another world, and still, she consumes her.

She’s the reason Kara checks out medical textbooks from the library that she studies instead of her homework. She’s why Kara gets on her knees before bed and for the first time in years, prays to a God she isn’t sure she believes in anymore (because what kind of God could allow one person to lose their world so many times?). She asks for Lena to still be alive because she deserves a chance to get away from all the hatred in her life and to finally live for herself. She asks for her to be healthy and in remission, with the beautiful, thick hair, she’s spent the past three years missing. 

And even though it feels selfish– her problems pale in comparison to cancer, Kara asks for a sign. A real one to show Lena is still out there. 

In the weeks that follow, she feels ridiculous for hoping. It’s like throwing a penny into a fountain and asking for a thousand dollars– those things never come true.

Until one day, she stops at the library after school instead of going home. The librarian stops her before she can find the non-fiction section and asks Kara to come to the front desk. 

Kara does as she’s told, wrapping her fingers around her backpack straps as she waits to be told she’s finally been caught on overdue books or she’s being kicked out for coming in without an adult. But there’s nothing. No scolding. No reprimanding. 

“You’re always reading those medical books,” the librarian says instead. “So I set one of these aside for you. I thought you might find it interesting. Came in yesterday.” 

She pulls out a magazine and hands it across the table to Kara. It’s thick like a book with glossy paper– the kind of thing they keep in doctors’ offices and hospital waiting rooms. And when she sees the cover, Kara nearly faints. 

It’s Lena. Fourteen-year-old alive Lena. Lena, who has short, dark curly hair. Lena, who is free of her NG tube and central line, who wears makeup– real makeup, and freckles on her cheeks from finally going outside. 

Lena Luthor - the Medical Marvel of the Oncology World, the cover reads. The most incredible nine words Kara has ever seen.

She can’t help the way she beams down at the photo. Her heart pounds so hard it feels like it could beat right out of her chest, but Kara doesn’t care. Lena is alive and she’s okay. 

For the first time in seven months, Kara feels like she can breathe again. 

[grantofalltrades]

Push the button, Frank!

[ddoubleblindd]

She makes it very difficult to get out of bed.

Gorgeous fanart of Keke by Lady Toast.

[ladyelainehilfur]

[gemwing2010]

There’s one of those days that you’d rather stay in bed. 😮‍💨

[headlesssamurai]

[oliviabensonismywife]

TedBecca - Five More Minutes 💔

[oliveoomph]

Jenna Ortega in Wednesday (2022)

s01e04 "Woe What a Night"

[machetelanding]

[autisticlenaluthor]

💯💯 (write 200!)

“So you’ve never liked someone?” 

Kara paused. 

She watched the way Lena drew her bottom lip between her teeth and the slow but steady rise and fall of her chest. Wondered the way she had a million times before if the way she watched her, the way she noticed, were all too much. 

“I think…” She stopped, mentally questioning if she were allowed to put it all into words. “I might have?” 

“Oh,” Lena responded. It was so quick Kara never noticed the way her face fell or the disappointment that crept through her voice.  “Was it a boy from school?”

“No. Not someone from school.” 

Lena took a minute then nodded. She sat up too, looking just past Kara’s eyes. 

“Did he know?” 

Kara cringed at the sound of the he.

The boys she knew were callous and cold. They yelled in the halls, interrupted their teachers, and threw things in the cafeteria. They made the smaller, quieter kids into jokes. 

The feelings Kara had… based in warmth and security, she wasn’t sure she could ever imagine allowing a man to hold them. 

“No, I never said anything,” she said eventually. 

It was risky, Kara knew, to talk about it that way. To treat it like they were normal, or okay, even.

“Sometimes I think about it, but I’d always chicken out.” 

“Why?” 

God, she’d never wanted Lena to stop talking more than she did now.

“Because I don’t know if I’d ever want them to know,” she said. “Like… we were good friends. And I just… care about them a lot. And if they didn’t like me, things would get weird and awkward. Like… you stop seeing each other as the same friends, you know?” 

Kara stopped for a second and looked down at her hands. 

“But there’s other stuff– like I’ve never kissed anyone and I know they haven’t either, but like, what if I’m really bad at it, and that ruins things? Or if I realize I actually hate kissing.”

Lena opened her mouth– trying to interject, but Kara didn’t seem to notice. 

“I just didn’t want to lose them. Like… I’d rather sit on whatever it was than lose a friend. I can handle that part, I’m good at just dealing.” 

When it seemed like she had finally finished, Lena nodded and looked in her direction. She fidgeted with Benny in her lap, twisting the deflated arms around her fingers. 

“Yeah… you shouldn’t have to be,” she said. “But I get it. I’m good at it too.” 

[demisexualnathanvuornos]

Lucas Bryant as Matthew in Five More Minutes: Moments Like These (Original air date December 17th, 2022)

[msboutofcontext]

[worldsfastestbear]

Do you smell coffee?   Yeah, but let’s wait for Room Service...

[bittersweetsoxxx]

“just one more kiss”

“Five more minutes”

It does not matter if it is five hundred of these remarks or one million.

Eternity would not be long enough. I would still want more time with you.

[ingrid-marie]

My qualifiers tonight!!!

🇨🇿🇫🇮🇱🇻🇧🇻🇦🇿🇭🇷🇲🇹🇳🇱🇷🇸🇸🇪