230. Chapter 230

“How could you not have seen this, Alexandra?”

“Eliza, I – “

“No, Kara, you tried to warn her, apparently, but she was too stubborn to – “

“Well, you didn’t see it either, Mom, and you were his wife – “

“That’s enough, Alexandra – ”

“And that’s enough, Dr. Danvers.”

Maggie’s voice is soft, and it’s low, but it’s firm, and it’s unexpected, and it makes all three Danvers women jump and turn and stare.

“I respect you, Dr. Danvers, and I care for you deeply because you brought the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known into this world. And I respect that you’re suffering terribly right now, but so is Alex. And I need you to back off of her and let her try to heal.”

“Well, I…”

But there are no other words to say. Eliza stares at Maggie, and Alex stares at Maggie, and Kara stares between all of them as Maggie steadily returns Eliza’s gaze.

“You’re right, dear, of course you are. Alex, I… I’m sorry, I – “

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Mom,” Alex interrupts, and she swings past her mother and out the door.

“Alex,” Kara calls, but she knows it’s hopeless. She glances at Maggie, and Maggie returns it grimly, and they both know Alex needs to be found. Immediately.

Because Alex isn’t alright. Is far from alright.

Alex is broken, and she’s DEO trained, so she’s already down the stairs and out of the building.

She’s already figuring out the ways she can end it, the ways she can escape it, the ways she can stop being so useless, the ways she can stop being so worthless. The ways she can stop failing.

The ways she can fly like her sister, and die because she can never be her. Never be as good as her. And that’s okay: she wants Kara to shine. Always. Always.

She doesn’t want to leave. Not Kara. Not Maggie. Not J’onn.

She doesn’t want to leave.

But she doesn’t know how to stay, how to stay with this agony on repeat in her mind, unable to shut off, unwilling to stop, merciless, cold, hateful.

She knows where to go.

Kara takes to the sky and Maggie takes to the garage, and Eliza collapses onto the sofa with her head in her one hand and her daughter’s unfinished glass of scotch in the other.

Kara finds Alex first, and she shoots a text off to Maggie. Just an address. Just the word roof. Just the word now.

“Alex,” she calls, looking for all the world like Supergirl, but sounding for all the world like a scared little sister.

“Alex, come away from the ledge.”

Alex laughs, and it sounds like her, but it doesn’t.

It sounds like her, but it’s tortured.

It sounds like her, but it’s broken.

“You can see it from here. The forest. Where I let him go. Where my father told me I had to kill him or let him go back and help those bastards kill everyone I love. You can see it from here.”

“Alex,” Kara starts again, but Alex is just bringing her toes closer to the edge of the roof, and she’s laughing that hollowed out laugh again.

“Eliza’s right. I should have known. I should have listened to you, Kara, I should have seen it. He’s my father, I should have known that he – “

“Alex, you couldn’t have known.”

The new, breathless voice behind her makes her tremble, and Kara gets ready to dive, but Alex’s feet stay planted.

Maggie approaches from behind her slowly, slowly, carefully, like she’s walking up to a small leopard with her foot caught in a trap.

“You couldn’t have known, Ally.” She uses the name she only uses in private even though Kara is hovering above them; uses it because Alex needs it. Because Alex needs to feel unique. Special. Wanted. Needed.

Because she is.

Alex doesn’t turn around, doesn’t look at Maggie, but she plays along.

“I’m his daughter, I – “

“Yeah, and you know what, babe? I know something about daughters and fathers.” Her voice is soft and her voice is as broken as Alex feels, and it’s enough to make Alex incline her head, just slightly, to the side, just slightly toward Maggie.

Kara nods at Maggie and Maggie steps a little closer.

“I know that when your father betrays you, it doesn’t break your heart. It replaces it with a gaping, bloody hole, just leaves your chest shredded and open and worthless. And you’ll do anything, believe anything, to get him back. Except betray yourself. And you didn’t. Betray yourself. You let him live. You trusted the people you love to help you. To stop him, and Cadmus. You chose you, Alex, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. But this, Ally? You step off that ledge, babygirl, and I – “

But Alex cuts her off with a harsh laugh that sends chills down both Maggie and Kara’s spines.

“Oh please, you think Kara would let me die? My sister can fly, my sister is faster than a speeding bullet. My sister knows the man who was her father for a year better than I know the man who was my father my entire life, I – “

“Alex, no. It’s not that, it’s not a competition. Your love for Jeremiah isn’t your weakness, Alex. Love never is. You taught me that. Love makes us stronger, Alex. You love hard, you always have. Since the day I came to this planet, you have loved me so hard. And you love J’onn so hard you were willing to throw your entire life away to stand by his side. And you love Maggie, hard. And you love Jeremiah, hard, and you love Eliza so hard that her words feel like knives in your skin because all you want is to feel her love you that hard in return. You love him, Alex, no matter what he’s done, no matter who he’s become. And that doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you a hero.”

“Listen to your sister, Ally,” Maggie whispers, but somehow, Alex hears it.

She’s unaware that she reaches her hand back to accept Maggie’s trembling, outstretching fingertips. She’s unaware that she lets Kara swoop down and carry both her and Maggie away from the ledge, away from her escape.

She’s unaware that Maggie is picking her up, bridal style, that she’s wrapping her arms around her neck as Kara opens the door for them, as Maggie carries her down, slowly, down, Kara spotting her, down the steps, down, down, down, until they reach ground level, when Maggie breathlessly presses a kiss to Alex’s slack forehead and sets her down.

She’s unaware that she keeps her arms wrapped around Maggie’s neck, that she leans them both back into Kara, because standing on her own, standing without her body connected to both of these women – existing without her body connected to both of these women – simply isn’t possible.

She’s unaware of how they wind up getting her home, but she’s aware of Maggie stripping her clothes off while Kara runs her a bath.

She’s unaware of how she gets into the bath, but she’s aware that it smells like all her favorite scents, that Kara has put on her favorite music, that Maggie has set candles all around the bathroom.

She’s unaware of how she gets wrapped in a big, soft towel and when she starts sobbing, weeping, gasping for breath like she’s a newborn just learning how to use her lungs, but she’s aware of Kara’s strong arms around her torso, of Maggie’s soft kisses to every centimeter of her face.

“You are worth it, Alex Danvers,” Maggie whispers as Kara smooths the wet hair from her forehead and nods softly, profusely, lovingly.

“You are worth everything.”