Every time.

Unspoken truths

"Not everyone loves Supergirl" I remark, wiping the tears that fell down my cheek, as I laughed like there was no tomorrow. As hero's we all have our fair share of fans and fair shares of assholes. Through this course over that last few years i've learned that you can't please everyone, even when you just risked your life to save there's"

"Well I do. She makes the world a better place and anyone who doesn't see that, is either a dumbass, or a dumbass" Mon-El states simply as he latches his frim, yet soft grip around my hand.

"You just repeated the same word twice" I mumble quietly, smiling gingerly as he finishes.

"Mmm, I'm too tired to care" Mon-El states yawning softly, now moving his hands to my waist, pulling me even closer to him, the way he always does as we head off to sleep.

"What? Could you not handle the emotional trauma of all the rom coms today?" I ask mockingly. Mon-El grins as he lets his eyes slip close.

"I think I'm beginning to share your love of rom coms" Mon-El affirms.

"Well it's not like you ever lost it, you cried over the notebook every time we watched it"

"I don't remember that happening" Mon-El states smirking.

"Of course you don't" I mummer softly, chuckling softly. "I love you Mon" I whisper feeling sleep begin to drown out my senses. Mon-El smiles even wider before responding.

"I love you too"

******

Waking up next to Mon-El has always been something I looked forward to. His toothy smile, the messy hair, the cuddling. All of it was just so...perfect, and there was no better way than starting the day off than waking up next to him, especially when after I spent all these months missing him and thinking that I'd never see him again.

But there were some days where either one of us would wake up in a cold sweat, wheezing,
screaming. And that undoubtedly has a lot to do with the deaths of our planets, it has a lot to do with our day to day jobs as heroes, and having to relieve painful memories we wish that more than anything will go away. But they don't. So we confide in each other. By talking—almost always, about anything other than our dreadful nightmares— , we cry, we comfort each other, and we stay up together when the other is shaken up to hard to go back to sleep. A good example of one of these days would be this one.

His labored breathing is what awoke me from my slumber. He's propped up against the head bored, staring off a into distance, eyes clouded this empty look. I cautiously move towards to him, making sure not to startle him, but he doesn't even react when I position my self next to him on the head bored. Now that I'm sitting next to him, I'm now aware of the of dried up tears on his cheeks, which were a shade darker than they usually are.

"Mon-El?" I call out, my voice drowned in a river of concern and worry. He doesn't respond. It's as if he doesn't notice the I'm sitting here next to him. "Mon-El?" I call out again, this time hesitantly moving my hand on top of his. He flinches at my touch. "Hey, it's okay. It's me, Kara." I mummer softly. At this he slowly turns his head towards me, his eyes filled with a new layer of tears. The sight alone makes me want to pull him into my arms, and protect him from all evils of the world.

"I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to wake you—" Mon-El mumbles, his voice cracked and dry.

"—Don't be sorry." I mummer back, moving my hand again, to stroke the side of his face in an relaxing manner, this time he doesn't pull away. "What happened?" I ask him after a couple of seconds. I'm not really expecting an answer, hence he still hasn't brought up our last diminishing topic of discussion. And I get that, I really do, bringing up unpleasant topics about your past isn't something that's very enjoyable, but at the same time keeping it all in isn't healthy. And Mon-El seems to love bottling everything up, which is funny because he always encourages me to speak up about how I feel, but when it comes to him he doesn't take his own advice.