436. Chapter 436

She swears she’s not hearing her right – her ears have been ringing since blazing through that explosion on her way to the DEO to access better surveillance to guide the NCPD, fire department, and EMTs to more accurate areas of need, quicker.

She swears she’s not hearing right, because it’s been a long day.

Hell, it’s been a long week.

She still can barely tolerate Alex being out of her sight, since she told her not to wait up for her and then almost…

But she held on. She held on.

She held on, and now she was asking Maggie to hold on to her forever, and she wants to – god, does Maggie want to – because she’d be lying if she said she hasn’t been thinking about it, damn how soon it is, damn how fast it is, damn how many U-haul jokes the world will make.

The world doesn’t understand the fire their relationship, their love, has been forged by.

The world can’t comprehend the way they’ve suffered together, survived together, already.

Suffered together, survived together, and somehow – somehow, and this is the truly incredible part – somehow managed to hold each other up, never spiral each other down. Someone managed to find reasons to celebrate life together, when celebration feels wrong and life feels meaningless.

Because they’ve created right together, and they’ve created meaning, and Alex is nothing if not blunt, and Alex is nothing if not direct.

Alex is nothing if not perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

The way she grabbed her – all that time ago, and no time at all ago – by the forearm in their bar, spinning her back around and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe.

The way she doesn’t ask her to marry her.

The way she tells her.

Tells her, and then begs her.

“Seriously. Marry me. Please?”

Maggie’s already berating herself for her “excuse me?”, but what else could she possibly muster?

What else could she possibly muster when this woman – this woman who’s committed herself to making Maggie feel like she’s enough, when she’s never, ever, ever been nearly enough before; this woman who leaps off buildings and single-handedly destroys genocidal war facilities; this woman who cries so easily but refuses, utterly, to break – what else could she possibly muster when this woman is breathless, and breathtaking, and asking her to marry her?

She doesn’t know what else to muster, so she does the only thing that her body, her brain, can do.

She kisses her.

She kisses her desperate and she kisses her hard, one hand in her hair and the other on her waist, closer, closer, closer, until her body racks with tears, her chest racks with sobs, and Alex murmurs bewildered comfort against her lips but Maggie doesn’t need that, Maggie just needs more, more, more.

More of Alex’s warmth, more of Alex’s lips.

More of Alex’s hands wrapping her up, more of Alex’s breath moaning slightly into her lungs.

More of Alex’s love, because she loves her, god, god, god, she loves her, she loves her, she loves her.

She’s not exactly sure why, but she knows anyway, trusts Alex anyway – Alex Danvers is in love with her.

And Alex Danvers wants to add a wedding to their lifetime of firsts.

So she kisses her and she sobs and she sways on the spot and she only brings her lips off Alex’s when they have to bring their foreheads together to breathe, breathe, breathe, because the world was starting to spin from lack of oxygen, from overflow of love.

She loves her, she loves her, she loves her.

And they have a lot to talk about.

A lot to interpret and a lot to navigate.

But they’ve held on in tanks and interrogation rooms and abandoned warehouses and bars full of ghosts and fathers full of betrayal and decades full of worthlessness.

They’ve held on, and they’ve found each other’s arms to hold, too.

So when Alex asks, “So you’re saying yes? Cuz that’s… that’s what I’m getting – because of course that’s what Alex asks – Maggie sobs again, again, again, matching Alex’s tears when she tells her yes, yes, yes, yes.

Yes.