103. Chapter 103

She said it first while she was sobbing.

Sobbing and raging and throwing things because she hated losing her cool in front of people; she never ever did, but then again no one had ever insisted on being there, but Alex had insisted on being there and Alex had insisted on staying until Maggie let it out and there was so much to let out it might kill her because they were her friends and they felt safe at that bar and they were all dead and just fuck.

“And I don’t know how to do it, Ally, I don’t know how to go back there and look M’gann and the others in the face and tell them I didn’t know, I couldn’t stop it, I wasn’t there, and even if I was, I would have survived and they all would have died. I just don’t know how to do it, Ally.”

And Alex had held her and Alex had kissed her and Alex had rocked her and cradled her through the night and well into the morning.

So the first time she said it, neither of them commented, because it felt natural rolling off her tongue and it felt natural slipping into Alex’s ears and anyway, there were more important things to think about.

The second time she said it, she was panting and she was gasping and she was scratching at Alex’s back and she was writhing and she was screaming.

“Ally, Ally, just like that baby, fuck, Ally.”

And it made Alex moan and it made Alex fuck her harder because she’d worked so hard over the years to make people see her as Alex, Alex, Alex, because she thought it was a harder name than Alexandra, she thought it was a tougher name than Alexandra, because Alex was the name her father had called her and anything else was for being scolded by her mother, anything else was being weaker than she was, but god when the name just rolled off Maggie’s tongue like that, it felt good and it felt hot and it felt safe and it felt intimate and it felt perfect and it felt like… it felt like coming home.

It especially felt like home because Maggie didn’t overuse it.

She used it when there was raging and tears and grief, because something had to still be sacred in the world.

She used it when there was pure joy and absolute safety and surging happiness, because it was just for them and they were just for each other.

And she used it when she could barely form syllables, when she could barely think, when she was seeing stars, when Alex was on top of her, when Alex was underneath her, when she was checking in for Alex’s color, when she was screaming under Alex’s perfect tongue.

She used it, in short, only when they were alone.

But Maggie still wasn’t used to the whole Kara-has-superhearing thing, so when Eliza was about to come over for dinner and Alex was shaking and Maggie was gently prying the bottle of bourbon from her fingers, Maggie leaned up on her tip toes and kissed Alex’s temple, kissed Alex’s nose, her lips, and said to her softly, softly, with gentle fingertips rubbing small circles onto the back of her sweater, “You’re gonna be just fine, babe, I’m here and I’ve got you. You’re perfect, Ally, alright, no matter what your mom says.”

They jumped apart as Kara squealed loudly across the apartment, her eyes wide and her hands clasped together.

“Ally?” she nearly shrieks. “That is so cute, Maggie – can I call you that too, Alex?”

“Oh hell no.”

“Sorry, Little Danvers, I’ve got a patent on that one.”

“Yep, patent. Maggie’s. Nope, nope, no, no.”

“Ohhhhh, it’s your own personal private time nickname. I get it. It’s cool. I get respect that.”

Kara leveled a massive wink at them as Alex reddened and groaned and reached unsuccessfully for the bottle Maggie was still holding away from her, and Maggie just shook her head and laughed, because when your future kid sister-in-law winks at you that dorkily, there’s really nothing else to do.