143. Chapter 143

Maggie Sawyer is unmovable in the field.

She can unmovingly stare down the barrel of a gun, and she can keep herself steady enough, calm enough, sturdy enough, to grapple down men twice her size.

Out in the world, she is unmovable, because she forces herself to be.

But when her fingers aren’t curled into fists, when her fingers aren’t curled around the cool metal of her gun?

Maggie Sawyer is jumpy. She’s shaky and she’s wide-eyed and she startles easily, so easily.

Alex discovers this more quickly than she figures out why.

She discovers it because Maggie is cooking, and Maggie’s got her headphones in, and she’s rocking her hips gently to music and she’s humming to herself, and Alex loves it, because this is her girlfriend, her girlfriend in her apartment, cooking them both dinner.

So she goes up behind her and she puts soft hands on Maggie’s hips.

And Maggie jumps, and Maggie yelps, and Maggie trembles.

Alex jumps back like she’s been burned, hands up in surrender, hands up in I’m sorry it’s only me don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you I’m sorry.

Alex says nothing, letting Maggie catch her breath, letting Maggie collect herself.

“Sorry Danvers,” she says, pulling out on of her earpods and pretending to laugh it off, but Alex knows her, and Alex knows she’s trying to hide how shaken she is. “Was a little wrapped in my own world for a minute there.”

Alex lets it drop, nodding and softly smiling in understanding but not pushing the subject, because she’s never seen Maggie look so uncomfortable.

It happens again when Alex is sitting on the floor, her back against Maggie’s legs as Maggie sits on the couch and plays with her hair while Alex reads, glasses on and breathing soft and even. Relaxed.

Until suddenly, Alex sits up straighter, exclaiming excitedly, because in her reading, she’s just cracked a chemical equation she’s been puzzling over for weeks.

And Maggie flinches, Maggie startles, Maggie bites her lip painfully to keep down the yelp, at the suddenness of Alex’s movement, at the suddenness of Alex’s sound.

Alex turns and kneels and puts her hands on Maggie’s thighs.

“I’m sorry, babe, I just… I just realized something about some chemical thing. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Maggie tries to shove it off again. “You didn’t scare me, Danvers.”

Alex just looks up at her softly and sighs, and rubs her hands up and down Maggie’s thighs, soothingly, soothingly.

No one has ever done that.

No one has ever looked at her gently, apologized quietly for startling her. No one has ever looked at her like she deserves to be soothed, like she deserves to be held, like she deserves to be paid attention to.

Everyone else has always looked at her like something is wrong with her. Everyone else has always looked at her like she’s an annoyance, like she’s an embarrassment.

But Alex Danvers? Alex Danvers is on her knees, in her glasses, a look of pure love, a look of pure concern on her face, because Alex Danvers notices, and Alex Danvers doesn’t mind, and Alex Danvers wants to help, because Alex Danvers cares.

And that’s what breaks Maggie, and that’s what heals her.

“Sudden sounds and sudden movements… sudden touches… I get…”

“Startled,” Alex supplies softly, a small, sweet smile on her face as she reaches up slowly, slowly, slowly, waiting for Maggie’s nod before she proceeds, to stroke Maggie’s cheek.

Maggie nods and turns her face into Alex’s soft touch. “I’m sorry, I know it’s annoying – “

Alex shakes her head vehemently and she leans up slowly, slowly, to kiss Maggie’s nose, her eyes, her forehead, her chin, her cheeks, her mouth.

“You are never annoying, Mags. You’re perfect, babe. If you startle easily, then it’s my job to slow down around you, and I will. I will. I’ve got you, Maggie. I’ve got you. Okay?”

Maggie chokes on tears because no one else has ever… ever.

She nods because she can’t speak, and Alex crawls up onto the couch and holds out her arms for Maggie to slip into. She gathers her up and she pulls a blanket over them both, and she kisses Maggie’s hair and she hums softly in her ear.

“I love you,” she whispers when Maggie’s breathing evens out. “I love you so, so much, Maggie Sawyer. Exactly like you are.”