014 - Homesick (Helena/Karen, G)
Title: Homesick
Fandom: DC Comics
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Helena Wayne/Karen Starr
Rating: G
Word count: 262
Warnings: None
Challenge: #014 - Cold
Helena has always had a good constitution, but she's still human, and once in a while she manages to come down with a cold. Back home, Alfred would bring her chicken soup when she was sick. When she was younger, before--before, her mother would sing lullabies to her and stroke her forehead until she fell asleep.
Knowing that somehow both of them are out there in this world, familiar and yet utterly lost to her, makes her curl up in a ball on the bed, clutching the blankets around her.
She's coughing, that's a cough, it's not a sob.
"Hey," whispers a gentle voice, and Helena feels strong hands on her shoulders. "I brought you some orange juice."
Karen lifts her up as if she were a child, helping her sit up. "You look a mess," she says, and Helena manages a hiccupy laugh.
"Geez, thanks."
"What are friends for?"
The orange juice is good, Helena suspects the oranges were fresh-picked in Seville. She finishes the glass and leans forward against Karen, resting her head against her friend's shoulder. Her hair smells like wind and sunlight.
"I'll get us home soon," Karen murmurs, holding her, and Helena is too tired to argue once more that it's no use going home, that this world is all they have now. This world, the circle of Karen's arms around her, is all the home she has.
Karen starts to hum a song in Kryptonian, a low croon in the back of her throat, and for a little while it is all the home Helena needs.
Fandom: DC Comics
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Helena Wayne/Karen Starr
Rating: G
Word count: 262
Warnings: None
Challenge: #014 - Cold
Helena has always had a good constitution, but she's still human, and once in a while she manages to come down with a cold. Back home, Alfred would bring her chicken soup when she was sick. When she was younger, before--before, her mother would sing lullabies to her and stroke her forehead until she fell asleep.
Knowing that somehow both of them are out there in this world, familiar and yet utterly lost to her, makes her curl up in a ball on the bed, clutching the blankets around her.
She's coughing, that's a cough, it's not a sob.
"Hey," whispers a gentle voice, and Helena feels strong hands on her shoulders. "I brought you some orange juice."
Karen lifts her up as if she were a child, helping her sit up. "You look a mess," she says, and Helena manages a hiccupy laugh.
"Geez, thanks."
"What are friends for?"
The orange juice is good, Helena suspects the oranges were fresh-picked in Seville. She finishes the glass and leans forward against Karen, resting her head against her friend's shoulder. Her hair smells like wind and sunlight.
"I'll get us home soon," Karen murmurs, holding her, and Helena is too tired to argue once more that it's no use going home, that this world is all they have now. This world, the circle of Karen's arms around her, is all the home she has.
Karen starts to hum a song in Kryptonian, a low croon in the back of her throat, and for a little while it is all the home Helena needs.