469. Chapter 469

She knows where J’onn keeps the hidden DEO vending machine.

She sneaks Winn snacks whenever he’s having a rough day.

But she also knows where J’onn keeps the hidden DEO liquor, for celebrating together, as a team, after long, hard, dangerous missions.

For toasting fallen friends, fellow soldiers who are just… gone.

She knows where J’onn keeps it, and she knows why he keeps it hidden.

She hits it pretty hard, anyway, that night.

That night when Kara’s with Lena and Winn is on patrol with James and Maggie is happy, Maggie is fine, but she’s on the job and Alex won’t text her to tell her she’s in pain.

Won’t text her to ask her to please come hold her when she gets off work.

Won’t text her to tell her that it’s nothing in particular.

That nothing happened, that no one died and that nothing was triggering, that she didn’t talk to her mom and that nothing was particularly difficult today.

Won’t text her to tell her that there’s absolutely no reason for her to be in excruciating agony, but she is.

God, she is.

She won’t text her, but she will raid J’onn’s hidden DEO liquor stash.

She raids it and she chugs and she doesn’t even grimace as she swallows, and she heads straight for the armory.

She heads straight for the armory and she punches in her clearance codes, and she straps knives to her belt and into her boot and slips her favorite gun into her thigh holster and she programs the most dangerous course available – one designed only to train J’onn and Kara – and she turns it on.

She’s too drunk and too hazy – too sharp and too agonized – to remember to turn off the alerts always emanating from the room.

She’s too drunk to think about the conversation that’s happening in the command center as she dives into an obstacle course that could seriously hurt Kara or J’onn, but that could easily obliterate her.

Because if she can tolerate this much pain inside?

What’s a little bit outside?

“Sir,” Vasquez starts, their voice clear and crisp at first, but as they realize what they’re looking at, what the readings from the armory’s training room mean, they wait until J’onn approaches behind them to continue.

So no one else will hear.

Because everyone’s been hearing everything about Alex’s life lately.

The kidnapping, the torture. The drowning.

Jeremiah.

They don’t also need to know how she’s coping with her depression.

“Sir, it seems that Agent Danvers is – “ J’onn takes one look at their computer and nods.

“Call Supergirl and Detective Sawyer,” he claps his hand on their shoulder gratefully, briefly, before he takes off at a sprint for the training room.

He finds her fighting Myriad, fighting mental possession – fighting her own version of Red K. Fighting images of herself killing Kara. Images of herself drowning. Images of Maggie, shot. Of J’onn, captured by Cadmus. Of Eliza, disappointed. Of herself, useless. Helpless. Worthless.

Her thigh’s been sliced open by some horror or other and her face is bruised and bleeding and she’s panting, groaning, gritting her teeth.

He overrides her command inputs and he catches her before she crashes to the ground.

He holds her like he did when she used to collapse in training after pushing herself past her own breaking point.

He holds her like he did when Kara passed her limp, trembling body into his arms after flying her back from that damn tank.

He holds her while she mutters partially drunk, partially lucid apologies, over and over and over until Kara’s voice slams into the room, followed closely by Maggie’s footsteps, by Maggie’s frantic heartbeat.

“Alex!”

“Nooooo,” Alex groans, and rolls over closer into J’onn’s lap. “No, Kara, why – J’onn, why would you call her – Kara, you were out with Lena, I – “

“Lena understands, Alex, hey, I’m here, okay? I’ve got you.”

Alex writhes away from her sister’s arms.

“That’s not the way it’s supposed to be,” she groans.

“What happened to taking care of each other?” Kara retorts gently, firmly. Lovingly.

“Alex, you’re always taking care of everyone. You can let us take care of you,” Maggie kneels next to Kara, and Alex groans again.

“Maggie, you have work, I’m fine, nothing’s even wrong – “

“Alex, you broke into the DEO liquor stash and tried to run a battle simulation designed for people with powers like your sister and me,” J’onn points out softly, breathing sweet relief as Alex finally, begrudingly, lets Kara gather her into her lap, kiss her broken face; lets Maggie hold her hand, kiss her bruised knuckles, start putting pressure on her bloodied thigh.

“I’m sorry,” Alex murmurs, and her father, her sister, and her girlfriend all shake their heads.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Alex. You just have to call us next time.”

“But nothing’s wrong,” Alex whispers, starting to shake.

“The world doesn’t need to be ending for you to deserve our love, Alex,” Maggie rasps, and J’onn’s heart warms at the obvious dedication of the woman his daughter chose.

“I love you, Alex. And I need my sister, okay? So I need you to let us know when you’re struggling. You’re allowed to struggle, okay? It doesn’t make you weak.”

“It doesn’t make you less perfect. It doesn’t make us love you any less,” Maggie adds, and J’onn takes over pressuring Alex’s wound so Maggie can shift to holding both of Alex’s hands.

“You promise?” Alex chokes, and her father, her sister, and her girlfriend all nod.

“Always, Alex. No matter what.”