474. Chapter 474

Her head is pounding and the televisions are all blaring in the background and she needs to focus on writing this, focus, focus, focus.

Block it out. Block it out.

But other people are laughing.

Other people are talking to each other.

To her.

Talking to her, and she doesn’t understand why they don’t see that she’s trying to focus.

She doesn’t understand why they don’t hear her head pounding, why they don’t see her trying to keep her cool, trying to not curl into a ball, trying to not cover her ears with her hands, but it’ll be futile, always futile, because even with her glasses on, she sees too much, she hears too much.

She feels too much.

She’s seeing too much, hearing too much, feeling too much.

Pretending that when people talk to her, she’s not imploding.

Pretending that when someone tries to look at her, her head isn’t pounding and she can focus on them without wanting to disappear.

Or just disappear everyone else. Everything else.

Until she hears the overwhelming crack – though really it’s probably more of a soft pop – of knees cracking next to her desk.

She turns her head and her eyes land on the eyes of her girlfriend’s sister, crouching next to her desk and looking up at her with a tilted head and a soft gaze.

“Hey Kara,” she greets, her voice low and just barely above a whisper.

She doesn’t touch her. She doesn’t go for a hug, or a knee touch, or a shoulder clap.

She just looks up at her, and Kara nearly drowns in gratitude.

“You forgot we were supposed to have lunch?” Maggie asks when Kara just blinks at her, but there’s no accusation in her voice.

“Maggie, no, I mean, yes, I’m – I’m so sorry, I’ve been so – “

“Need a break?”

“From – “

“All this.” Maggie gestures around the office, and Kara blinks again.

“Come on,” Maggie stands, and Kara doesn’t know what else to do.

So she focuses, she tries to breathe, and she follows.

She follows her sister’s girlfriend past the crowded elevators into the deserted stairwell.

She follows her down flight after flight after flight.

She follows her into an abandoned office on the fourteenth floor, empty of people and brilliantly, mercifully, silent.

“Maggie, how did you – “

“Always know where the quiet zones are, Little Danvers. Do you want me to leave you alone, or – “

“No. Stay. Please?”

Kara holds out a trembling hand, and Maggie takes it. Gently. And lets Kara pull her into her body, around her body.

She hugs Kara close into her chest, like she hugs her big sister. Her hands on her head.

To block out the noise.

To block out the swarm.

To block out the world.

When Alex finds them twenty minutes later, tracking Kara’s watch, they haven’t moved. They haven’t moved, and Kara is clinging to Maggie’s flannel. Clinging, still, breathing.

Slow and steady and calm.

Finally, quiet, and calm.

But she hears Alex’s heartbeat joined theirs, and she lifts her head away from Maggie.

“Hi,” she offers, and Alex stifles a soft sob.

“Hey sis. Overwhelming day?”

Maggie nods for Kara, while Kara extends a hand to her big sister.

“Sandwich?” she asks, and Alex smiles, wrapping her arms around both her sister and her girlfriend.

“Kara sandwich now, potstickers when you’re ready,” she says softly, and Kara lights up.

“I love having two big sisters,” she murmurs, and she doesn’t notice the tear that streaks down Maggie’s cheek, but Alex does.

Alex does, and god, is it perfect.