Dallas had long gotten used to being alone. Forced to grow up years earlier than most of her peers, she’d spent long periods without much company at all. Just Dallas and her books, and the stuffed bear from her mother that she’d dug out from the trash when foster mother wasn’t paying attention.

For a long time she didn’t really mind being alone, or, at least, that’s what she told herself. Dallas convinced herself it was peaceful, that this way she didn’t have to worry about people betraying her or disappointing her. She didn’t think much of the silence, the sitting alone each night with only schoolwork and sleeping pills to keep her company.

To her, it was normal, but then Lena Luthor came along.

Lena with her disapproving stare and sharp tongue. Lena who somehow runs an company and still finds time to work out and sleep for eight hours every night, who is stern and unyielding, and yet, in the privacy of home, is the warmest person Dallas has ever stumbled across.

There was never even a hint of pity behind expensive frames, merely a hopeful expectation that was never quite shielded by her usual mask of indifference. She’d been drawn to Dallas whenever their paths crossed, that much was clear, but Dallas didn’t quite expect the life gifted to her by the woman who seemed like she was much too good for her.

Even now, as she snuggles closer and allows the hand that reddened her bottom to gently rub the sting away, Dallas can’t quite believe her luck. She stays there for several moments, safely tucked against Mommy’s side as her sniffles quieten and her tears dry, safe and secure with the one person in the world who has her back and has no plans to leave her alone ever again.

“Do you feel better now, little dove?” Soft lips brush Dallas’s temple, long fingers carding through her tangled hair. “Did you get all those icky feelings out, hmm?”