728. Chapter 728

They haven’t fought since they rescued Alex together.

Since Alex… held on.

They haven’t fought, and the love between them has been immense, palpable.

Still, though, it’s been… fragile.

Like the only thing holding them together is the fact that Alex survived. That neither of them had been forced to face any fatal consequences of their fights, of the decisions they made and didn’t make.

But it happens again, a few months later. Kara – well, Supergirl – swoops into an active scene Maggie had been working.

Except this time, it’s not just a few broken limbs and property damage.

This time, it lands one of Maggie’s CIs in the ICU.

And Maggie is… well, Maggie is furious.

She doesn’t say anything. Not this time.

Because if Kara leaves again, then Alex will go after her again, and if Alex goes after her again, she won’t come home, she won’t be safe, she might…

Maggie doesn’t say anything.

No direct statements and no passive-aggressive comments.

Instead, she shoves it all inside.

She takes it out on her heavy bag.

She takes it out so hard – “damn kid, thinking that just because she’s bulletproof she can bulletproof everyone she decides she wants to save”; “stupid, stupid, stupid”; “he’s gonna be okay, he’s gonna pull through, and even if he doesn’t, it’s not Kara’s fault, it’s Cadmus, it’s Cadmus, but fuck, if she’d just followed my lead, no one would have gotten hurt like that” – that even though her hands were wrapped, her knuckles bleed.

She hisses in pain when the wraps stick to and pull up a layer of blistered, plasma-slick skin.

She prays Alex won’t notice.

Of course Alex notices.

She says nothing as she leads Maggie into the bathroom, cleans her up – more hissing – and puts neosporin on the cuts.

Maggie murmurs a sheepish thanks, to which Alex only looks her in the eye and says, “You need to talk to your sister-in-law.”

So, of course, she does.

Her fist is in the air to knock on Kara’s apartment door, when Kara pulls it open, an almost embarrassed look on her face.

“I heard you come upstairs. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, kid,” Maggie says, and they both blush.

Because Kara just used her superpowers for something she probably didn’t need to, and Maggie just called her little. And both of those things are sore spots, right now.

“So uh, can I come in? I brought a peace offering.”

She holds up the bag of potstickers she brought, and Kara’s eyes light up. To her credit, though, she doesn’t take the bag immediately.

“You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Nonetheless, when she steps back to let Maggie inside, she takes the potstickers and opens them immediately.

They sit together on the couch, and for a moment, awkward silence rises as Kara pretends not to notice the cuts on Maggie’s knuckles and tries to not feel guilty at knowing exactly where all that anger and frustration came from.

“Why’d you do it?” Maggie breaks the silence first, her voice deliberately clean of any accusation. It reminds Kara of the calm tone Maggie had used to interrogate Rick Malverne, and it only makes her feel even more guilty.

Because Maggie had been right, then. All along.

It was Kara that had been responsible for Alex almost drowning. Kara not listening to Maggie. Just like she hadn’t, again, last night.

But Maggie hadn’t asked for an apology. She’d asked for an explanation. So Kara takes a shuddering breath, and speaks.

“You’re amazing at what you do, Maggie. And I need to get better at following your lead, when you’re out in the field and I’m on scene.” She pauses and waits to see if Maggie wants to say anything. But she doesn’t. So Kara resists the urge to shove a potsticker into her mouth, and continues.

“But – and this isn’t to say that I know more than you, or I have insight you don’t – more like a burden, I guess… you can’t see the people inside the building. When you’re working a hostage situation. You can’t hear how fast their hearts are racing, see the fear in their body language, like I can. And that’s… again, I don’t mean that that makes you less amazing at what you do. It’s just… sometimes… my feelings just take over.”

Her hands collapse into her lap, and so does her gaze, because when she says it out loud, it does sound stupid, childish. Impulsive. Like she’s just a kid.

She looks up when Maggie breathes a long, slow, loud breath, almost like she’s counting to ten in her head. Kara waits for the justifiable criticism, the anger. One of Maggie’s confidential informants is in critical condition. J’onn just visited and said he’ll likely be fine, but still…

“It must be a lot.” When Maggie speaks, her voice is so low that Kara might have trouble hearing it without her supersenses. “Feeling all that, I mean. Hearing all of it, seeing all of it. It must be really overwhelming.”

“It is.” Kara’s voice is just as small, if not smaller, than Maggie’s.

A long silence forms, awkwardness and misunderstanding and jealousy and shared terror ebbing and flowing in the air between them like waves.

“You’re really strong, you know. To be able to function like that at all, let alone being a kickass reporter, a badass superhero, and the best sister Alex could ever have.”

The mention of Alex’s name hangs in the air between them like electricity, and Kara raises her eyes to meet Maggie’s.

She’s met with a soft smile. “I brought potstickers, but they’re not as good without pizza,” Maggie offers. “Should I order some, Kid Danvers?”

Tears string Kara’s eyes as her own smile tugs at her lips, and she finally brings a potsticker up to her mouth. “Yes please.”

The rest of the evening is full of laughter and revelations and new understandings that will only strengthen throughout their lifetimes.