236. Chapter 236

It happens when she’s about to gut Mon-El for going after her father.

Maggie’s hands on her body, Maggie’s hands not restraining, not restricting, just… there. Just there, just tender, just loving. Her hands, the extension of her heart.

And immediately, Alex’s body relaxed.

It happens when she wakes up screaming about Jeremiah, screaming that she didn’t mean what she said to Kara, screaming for them not to hurt Kara, that Kara is her sister, her family, her everything.

Maggie’s hands on her too-hot skin, Maggie’s hands sweeping her hair off her slick forehead, Maggie’s fingers tracing patterns of affection, patterns of safety, that sink through Alex’s skin straight into her bones.

It happens in the field, too. When Lilian Luthor is goading Alex, when she’s taunting her with smoothly spoken words about what Jeremiah’s been through all these years, all for the sake of his eldest. Maggie touches her, just slightly, and it’s through her tactical gear, but it’s enough.

It’s enough to calm Alex enough to take the smart shot – the one, not at Lilian Luthor herself, but at the canister of propellant above her, incapacitating every Cadmus agent they were surrounded by.

It happens at breakfast, when Alex is listening to the news and her hands are starting to shake, and Maggie touches the small of her back as she passes behind her to get something from the fridge. Alex’s muscles relax immediately, because her touch mean that Maggie knows.

Maggie always knows, and her hands have become Alex’s anchor.

And she’s never trusted herself to be this steady.