14. Chapter 14
It’s not that she hadn’t tried.
It’s not that she hadn’t tried hard.
She drank her way through Thanksgiving, struggling to give herself enough courage to let the words, “Mom, I’m gay” slip past her lips. Struggling to give herself enough courage to rail at her for not giving her the space – because it was Eliza who took her space, not Kara, Kara who was just a little girl who’d lost her entire planet, but it was Eliza who should have known not to put that all on Alex’s back, too – to realize this about herself, or much of anything about herself. Struggling to give herself enough courage to ask how, how, even though Kara swore up and down that Eliza couldn’t possibly have a problem with her daughter being gay, Alex could not be terrified when all Eliza seemed to ever want from Alex was more than she could give?
She’d tried.
But, as was typical in her attempts to communicate with her mother – despite their immense, unfaltering love for each other, despite their intense, unwavering connection – Alex failed.
She tried to remind herself that it wasn’t her fault, that Kara had been whisked away by Barry Allen to go defend some other Earth – Alex would strangle Barry for letting Kara go alone if she ever got her hands on him – that Eliza had flown back to Midvale for the continuation of classes.
She tried to remind herself that she was Alex Danvers and that the bottom of even the best bottle of bourbon wouldn’t make her feel better.
But dammit, she failed again.
She failed again, because she’d already swallowed an entire half of the bottle in just the last twenty minutes, and her body took action before her mind could protest.
The phone only rang twice before the voice that both stopped and warmed her heart answered.
“Danvers! It’s late, everything okay?”
“Maggie Sawyer,” she drawled, tossing back another sip of bourbon to convince herself that calling Maggie was, in fact, the right decision. “You know I wanted to invite you for Thanksgiving? I wanted you to come, to be part of the family. But I also wanted to come out to my mom, and I figured, best not do that with the woman I’m falling for sitting right at the table next to me!”
“Alex – “
“But the thing is, Maggie, you wanna know the thing, about coming out to my mom?”
“Alex, please stop talking.”
“Okay.”
“Alex, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”
“Pfft, no, why would you – “
“Alex, I’m hanging up now. I’ll be there in ten. Drink some water.”
“But Maggie – “
“I’ll be right there. Drink water.”
Alex dimly registered that it was nine and a half minutes, not ten, when Maggie rapped at her door, and when she tugged it open somewhat sloppily, that Maggie’s perfect hair was perfectly askew, like she’d not only rode her Triumph, but like she’d run to and from it. Her slightly heaving chest proved Alex right.
She chuckled to herself at her cleverness.
“You gonna let me in, Danvers?”
“To the apartment or to the little inside joke I just made with myself there?”
Maggie smiled, but her eyes were guarded. Her eyes were sad.
“Oh, babygirl,” she whispered instinctively as Alex stumbled slightly as she tried to step back to let Maggie in.
Maggie wrapped a gentle, steady hand around Alex’s waist and led her to the couch, kicking the door closed behind them.
“You called me babygirl. I wish I was your babygirl.”
“Alex.”
“I could be your Alex, too, you know. Kara says you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Kara’s wrong. I do. But, Alex, listen, you drank all that because you were upset about something else. Right? That’s why you called me, you were talking about Thanksgiving, about coming out to your mom?”
Alex squinted and leaned forward and Maggie gulped. Alex pulled back suddenly and Maggie took a breath. Alex’s hands shot up and back in an open-armed shrug.
“The thing is, I didn’t even come out to her! Didn’t get the damn chance! And now she’s back in Midvale and Kara’s away and probably in danger and I can’t do anything about it, I can’t do anything about any of it, and I just – “
Her words dissolved into harsh sobs and her breath shattered into shards as Maggie pulled her gently into her arms, pressing a soft kiss to her fair, rocking her, running her fingers across her back.
“I’ve got you, Alex. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I – I’m not – I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Maggie, I’m sorry.”
“Shh, no apologies, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
“I’m a mess.”
“You’re allowed to be. You’re allowed to break, Alex. I won’t let you lose track of any of the pieces. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Shhhh.”
“Please don’t go. Please. Please don’t go.”
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”
Alex pulled back, shaking slightly, eyes unfocused. “Maggie, I – I think I have to throw up now.”
“Okay, come on, bathroom this way? I got you.”
And she did. She held Alex’s hair back and she rubbed her back while she was panting, pulling the band out of her own ponytail to tie Alex’s hair back for the next time she retched, both of Maggie’s hands would be free, one to be squeezed by Alex’s hand, one to continue rubbing her back.
“Good job, babe, get it all out. It’s okay, you’re okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex moaned, and Maggie just shook her head.
“No apologies, Alex. I’ve been there. You deserve to be cared for. You deserve to be loved.”
Alex responded by throwing up again, and Maggie smiled slightly as Alex squeezed her hand again, hand.
“Stay,” Alex whispered after Maggie had been suitably convinced that she was done throwing up, after Maggie had wiped her face, after Maggie had helped her brush her teeth, had made her sip at least half a glass of water, had helped her into her bed.
“You should get some rest,” Maggie tried to argue, but Alex’s eyes were wide and terrified and her grip was vice like on Maggie’s forearm.
“Please.”
Maggie took a slow, deep breath and climbed into bed behind Alex, gulping and trying desperately to remember everything about calming breathing from that yoga class she went to last year, but all memory, all thoughts other than Alex, were shattered as Alex put her head on her chest, her leg over her hips, her arm over her stomach.
“Thank you,” Alex whispered, already mostly asleep.
Maggie didn’t sleep all night. She didn’t move. She barely breathed.
But she did know that she was already in love.