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When it comes to the universe screwing up Laurel’s life, it has a lot of practice. Her entire life after her dad died has been an exercise in finding out just how much shit the world can throw at her. Laurel thought she hit the ultimate shit pile in having to come over to an entirely fucking new Earth and assume the life of a version of herself that managed to get herself killed.

But this?

This new surprise might just be the worst of them all.

Laurel stares at the screen in front of her, where a tiny little alien is floating. Literally alien in some ways considering both of this child's mothers (can Laurel even call herself a mother in a case like this or is she more like a father?) aren't from this world.

Next to her, she hears Kara breathe even though she knows Kara doesn't need to.

"Laurel?" Kara asks softly. "Are you okay?"

Laurel shakes her head. She doesn't . . . . she doesn't know how to deal with this. She's going to have a child soon. A baby.

Kara is pregnant with her child somehow. Two months ago, they'd been stopping another invading hoard that was trying to conquer Earth, when some  fucked up alien device exploded with Kara in the blast radius. There's so much neither of them know about the device or why it was there. Laurel doesn’t even know what set it off, but she does know that she was the first person to touch her afterwards. When she grabbed Kara’s shoulders and face and looked her over, when she had to make sure she was safe despite being the Girl of Steel.

That’s when Laurel knocked Kara up.

Laurel bolts and finds herself stumbling out of S.T.A.R. labs. She starts throwing up in some bushes that line the walkway. Meanwhile, her entire childhood flashes through her eyes, but the difference between her real childhood memories and these images haunting her mind's eye is that now the child in these has Kara's blue eyes.

And all she can think, all she knows is that she's going to ruin this kid.

"Laurel?" Oliver says, coming up behind her. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head. No, she's not. She's not fucking okay. She knocked up Supergirl for crying out loud.

"It's a big adjustment," he says, voice somehow steady despite the world falling down around him. "But I have faith in you."

“Why?” she whispers. “What the fuck do you see in me that makes you so sure I won’t ruin this entire thing?”

Oliver places a hand gently on her back and begins to rub it slowly. “You’re a good person, Laurel.”

She shakes her head. He doesn't know that. He doesn't know the first thing about her. “I’m not your fucking Laurel,” she spits out.

“I know,” Oliver responds, his voice too patient. “But you and her were the same once. You’re not going to become her, but I knew her. She had darkness in her, just like you. And you have goodness in you, just like her.”

Laurel’s eyes blur with tears. She shrugs off Oliver’s hand as she stands up and marches away from the lab. She has no idea where she’s going, but it doesn’t matter. It just needs to be far, far away from here.


She ends up in a bar, chugging beer like she’ll never be able to drink it again. It’s fine because she’s not the pregnant one.

But then Kara walks in, and Laurel finds herself feeling guilty about it all the same.

“We need to talk,” Kara says, her tone harsher than Laurel has ever heard her sound  before as Kara slides onto the stool next to hers.

“No, we don’t,” Laurel responds, knowing she sounds like a petulant child and not caring one damn bit. If anything, it will give Kara practice at dealing with someone throwing a tantrum.

“Yes, we do,” Kara hisses, looking directly into Laurel’s eyes. Her long blonde hair is loose around her face, her blue eyes nervous yet blazing with determination. She’s so fucking gorgeous, and Laurel has thought that for a long time. Even now, she can’t put the thought of Kara's fucking beauty out of her head.

Not when it won’t leave her bed, and certainly not now, when Laurel doesn’t think it will be able to leave her life.

“You’re pregnant with my baby,” Laurel bites out, and Kara somehow doesn’t flinch at the statement. “Magic made it so I would knock you up, and it wasn’t even while we were fucking. That was what, two months ago? In seven months, you’re going to have a kid that’s going to be half you and half me, which is half perfection and half fuck up.” Laurel takes another gulp of her beer. “You should stay away from me so this kid has a chance of being a fucking decent human being.”

“Don’t,” Kara says, her voice as cold as her ice breath, “ever speak like that about yourself or our child again.”

Laurel isn’t afraid of her. “Why not? Don’t want to admit the truth?”

“No,” Kara snaps. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to stop and look in the mirror and admit that you’re a good person, because the moment you do that is the moment that you actually have to start trying . You have to live up to the potential that everyone else sees in you, and that scares you.”

Laurel grips her bottle tightly and squeezes her eyes shut, but Kara’s cool hand gently touches her jaw and cups her cheek. “Baby, look at me.”

She opens her eyes, blurry and wet, to see Kara’s face in front of her, and Kara looks just as worried as she does. “We can do this,” Kara whispers. “I know we can. We just have to believe in ourselves and each other. I believe in you, so let that be good enough until you can finally believe in yourself.”

Laurel sets the bottle down on the bar and then she reaches out and wraps her hand around Kara’s wrist. She rubs a circle on Kara's skin with her thumbs, feels Kara's pulse thrumming under her touch, steady and grounding. “I believe in you too,” she chokes out.

Kara leans in and presses her lips against Laurel’s. Her other hand lands on Laurel’s shoulder, her touch, like always, impossibly gentle. Laurel places her free hand on the small of Kara’s back and pulls her in closer. The kiss is soft and sweet, but Laurel deepens it soon enough. 

She’s still afraid, her body still thrumming with terror as she thinks about the fact that in seven months there’s actually going to be a small person here on Earth that’s half her and half Kara. But for now, she forces those thoughts out of her mind, forces the self-doubt somewhere that it won’t touch Kara.

A strange feeling washes over her, and stays with her as they leave the bar and head back to Kara’s world, Kara excitedly talking about everything they need to do to prepare for the baby, and Laurel startles as she realizes that this feeling could be called peace.