Kara listened to Mon-el's even breathes beside her, then she rolled over towards him and watched him breathe. In. Out. Maybe seeing him sleeping so calmly would settle her own heart back to an even rhythm. Yet the more she watched his chest rise and fall, the more erratic her own became. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, struggling to control the air invading her lungs, but the harder she tried, the more she gasped. Her heart was beating so hard, she was amazed it hadn't awakened Mon-el. She pressed her hand to her chest and pushed. Was she having a heart attack? But no, she couldn't be. She had seen her death. And it wasn't here in her bed.

The sheets and blankets were suddenly much too suffocating, and she suppressed the urge to fling them aside. Instead, she eased her way out from under them, careful not to disturb the man beside her. Then she tiptoed as softly as she could to the master bathroom, although her limbs shook beneath her.

Once she closed the door behind her, she practically onto the cold tile floor. She eased backward, pressing herself against the wall and curling her knees up to her chin. Her breaths were coming shorting and faster now, and she was gasping. She rocked back and forth, wishing she could breathe normally again, but nothing seemed to help. And her heart thumped so loudly now, it rang in her ears.

"Supergirl?"

The concerned voice was accompanied by light spilling through the open bathroom door. Kara gasped even more at the sight of Mon-el standing there, wreathed in the light from the bedside lamp. The blue flannel pajama pants she had bought for him hung low on his waist, and the low light cast shadows along his bare chest. He had only moved in a few days ago, so she could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him without his brace. The sight still brought tears to her eyes for some reason. Of course, tears seemed just below the surface on a constant basis lately.

She burst into them now—the tears. Her breath came in wheezing gasps now as they coursed hotly down her face. Mon-el said nothing, merely dropping to the floor beside her. He rubbed her back slowly, saying nothing at first. Not until her tears slowed and she was no longer full-out sobbing.

"Don't push the air out when you exhale, just let it come." Kara just nodded as she did as he instructed, lack of oxygen making it impossible to speak.

"That's my girl," he encouraged as he shifted them both around. He slid behind her so that she was leaning her back against his chest. His arms encircled her. "Breathe with me," he told her. "In...out...slow and easy."

It felt like it took hours, but finally, Kara's breathing slowed and her heart stopped racing. Still, Mon-el held her. She turned towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He gathered her in her lap like a child and ran his fingers through her hair. He pressed his lips against her hair, but still, he said nothing.

"I'm sorry, Mon-el," she finally whispered.

"What's there to be sorry for?" he asked her sincerely.

She let out a long shuddering breath, and for one terrifying moment, she feared the panic attack would start all over again. She pressed her eyes shut tight and counted to ten as she imagined breathing against Mon-el's chest again. "For falling apart." Kara was surprised at the tiny sound of her own voice. She wondered if he even heard. But then he held her tighter, and she knew he had.

"I'll repeat myself," he said firmly, "there is nothing you need to apologize for. Strength is many things. And this? This is strength too, love."

At that moment, Kara was surprised to realize that her greatest fear had been disappointing him. Or simply being too much. After all, never had she opened herself up with someone so completely. Never had she shared a home this way. Outside of her parents' house, this was the only home she ever had. Period.

"I guess," Kara whispered against her collarbone, "I guess I have that same fear I used to have when I first got to earth. That I'll be too much trouble, you know?"

Mon-el kissed her forehead. "Believe me, darling, you'll never be too much trouble."

"I'm tired," she told him, nuzzling against Mon-el's jaw.

He stood smoothly with her still in his arms and carried her to the bed. When he got in with her, she cuddled against his side, pulling his left arm across her body.

"Mon-el?"

"Mhm?"

"How did you know what to do for my panic attack?" Kara had suffered from them all of her life. In all those years, she had suffered alone, struggling through them, thinking she was dying, but wanting anyone to see her as weak.

No, as a burden. She didn't want anyone to think she was a burden.

"Well," Mon-el answered, shifting so that they were facing one another, his right hand resting on her hip, "I never called that, but something similar used to happen to me when I was a kid."

Kara reached out and caressed his cheek. "You're the only one who's ever seen me have one."

Mon-el's brows furrowed. "Not even James?"

"No," Kara sighed, "I had one—once—when we were together. I locked myself in the bathroom. Lied and told him I got sick." She paused for a moment, biting her lip as she regarded him. "What about Irma?"

Mon-el turned his face to kiss her palm. "I only had them when I was a kid. Never told anyone about them. Until now."

"I haven't had one since I first started working at Cat-Co. I don't know why it's happening again." A tear slipped from her eye, and Mon-el caught it as it fell.

"You've been through a lot love; we both have."

Kara leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, she smiled tenderly at him. "Thank you for letting me be a mess. For loving me enough that I can be real."

He smiled back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I feel the same about you."

Mon-el drew her close once again and she fell asleep in the circle of his arms, her breaths matching his. In. Out.