Notes at the end of this chapter.

Chapter 1

Work had been rough.

Maggie had successfully peeled herself from the pool table at the bar, and was currently sitting at the kitchen counter, swirling a shotglass absently. She wasn't doing anything but wasting money on $6 beer when she could get tipsy for free at Alex's place. Maggie did not allow herself to keep anything but beer and the occasional wine bottle at her own place, so when Alex handed over the keys last month, she made sure to ask about shared use. Her girlfriend just shrugged and told her to practice good judgment. "I trust you. Just don't drink the Bacardi. I saw what happened after you did those dumbass competitive shots with J'onn at the bar that one time. I know rum makes you sicker than most."

Alex trusted her. The DEO's smartest, sexiest supernerd trusted her. Maggie shook her head as she took down a generous shot of scotch. How was that even possible?When she was such a fuckup, how could that trust be possible?

She grunted, closed her eyes, tried to focus in on the image of Alex last Sunday morning. The angel'd woken up and immediately turned towards Maggie, sun beams alighting on her legs and stomach, small contented sigh on her lips. And all at once, all over again, Maggie was just so in love.

Alex coming through the door wearing those smart jackets and ass-gripping blue jeans and she was so in love.

Alex flopping her left arm into Maggie's face when she shrugged and tossed and turned in sleep, and she was so in love.

Alex meeting her eyes, mischief and flush tickling her sultry smile, as she leans over the pool table, scores three shots, downs her beer, exposes her breasts ever so slightly, says, croons, "Hey Sawyer, wanna come top me off?" and she was So. In. Love.

It was getting fucking ridiculous. So she worried. She's seen it get fucking ridiculous before – really great sex, really close bond, and then one really bad night and Maggie goes and breaks the beautiful girl's heart.

And why?..

Rotten person, perhaps. Something happened before, made her not good. Or, simpler, not worthy. Certainly not anything like the woman she was head over boots for.

Alex could kiss those thoughts away for a bit, but as with any habitually negative introspection, it was bound to resurface, to suffocate Maggie, tear up her cuticles and grind down her teeth.

So she swung a second shot into her mouth, clenching her jaw at the burn, celebrating to the goddamn bitterness that refused to let her quit.

Maggie sighed and settled onto the couch. The down mood sank into her like sour wine, hurting her mouth and her chest. Her throat was thick and her skin tight. She felt embarrassed, unworthy, unworthy. And she felt that if she could just be small in Alex's arms she'd feel loved, loved, loved. And she felt that she was losing sight of that fast.

Either way, Alex would be coming home any time, and hopefully soon, and she wasn't gonna drink any more of her excellent scotch without asking first. "Stop drinkin' Mags," she slurred to herself. "Already three beers at the other place. I didn't drink yesterday or Tuesday, maybe lower tolerance." She rolled her eyes at her voice, but stomached it, taking care of herself with a practiced iron grip.

Maggie scribbled a note on the bottle and left it on the counter:

SORRY. FEELIN WEIRD. KINDA DRUNK. NO SLEEP OTHERWISE U KNO?
MAYBE NONVERBAL LATER. SORRY ):

LOVE U XO
- SAWYER

ON COUCH BTW

They'd both started to communicate more about their drinking habits, the thick and thin of it - mostly how on bad days it was all that got either of them to sleep at night. To afford to close their eyes. To feel worthy of rest, to will the sharp slow pain of bruises and scarring away.

Hyper-vigilance kept Alex's hands flitting, tossing and turning, mumbling about Kara and Jeremiah and J'onn in her sleep. The fierce protectiveness she had for her family even in her unconscious swarmed Maggie with love, scared Maggie, taught Maggie to treat her so gently whenever she was finally able to turn to her for comfort.

And for Maggie, it was different. The worst thing was feeling like she hadn't done enough that day. Hadn't been able to act faster, hadn't been thinking faster on her feet. If she'd gotten knocked around her pride would be wounded, but the worst was walking off mostly or wholly unscathed with the nagging feeling that she should have done more. That if she'd worked hard enough, if she'd done and been enough, she'd have the scars to prove it.

Maggie drew in a sigh and closed her eyes. Pain radiated from her shoulders. Damn alcohol did shit for physical relief. She cursed at nothing and bit into her bottom lip. Alex, Alex, Alex. Alex, please come home.

Her phone from somewhere in the kitchen. Maggie groaned. She had to check.

It was Kara. More specifically, it was a snapchat from Mon-El of one grinning Little Danvers holding what Maggie could make out to be a cake in the shape of an 'S'.

Maggie's lower lip trembled. She wanted to smile, but a strangled sound escaped her throat instead. She took a step backward, slipping ungracefully onto a counter seat, tilting her head into her hands. She could feel the world distancing, feel herself getting smaller, stranger, alone alone alone.

And then a key turned in a lock, and Maggie could feel her in the room. Green eyes furrowing, narrowing slightly, tired and crinkled and full of love.

"Hey, Maggie. What's up, baby?"

Maggie shook her head, wiping her thumb over the note. "Alex," she whispered. "Sorry." Waits quietly, miserably.

Alex read the note, biting her bottom lip, furrowing her brow at the inebriated scrawl. And then she gave Maggie the gentlest, sweetest look. "You have nothing to apologize about. Nod if I can come hold you, okay? That's what I want to do."

Maggie nodded. Hiccuped. Alex's arms around her and she felt so much safer, and she felt so much less alone.

"Y'know, this is... not the couch, Sawyer," Alex pointed out after a long warm moment. Maggie snorted and then blinked, surprised at herself. A small smile appeared on her lips. And Alex grinned like a dork. "Aw, hey, glad that worked."

"I know it's not the couch, dork," Maggie replied. "My phone buzzed, wanted to see if it was your ETA or something." She sighed, turned away slightly. Dark-eyed. "I had a rough day and I was spiraling, and I just - I kept thinking of you and the wonderful things you say, but they're the best when you say them. When I tell myself encouraging, self-supporting shit, it comes off as a lie." Maggie grunted. "Guess I'm not nonverbal. Least there's that."

Alex nodded, considering Maggie's words. "I hear you, babe. For the record I think everything you did to respond was the right thing to do."

"What, sit around, drink like a damn fool and wait for my girlfriend to coddle me better?"

Alex stepped backwards, her eyes slightly downcast, gauging Maggie's tone. Maggie bit her tongue. "No, no, Alex, I'm sorry. I'm just - I have no idea... how to be taken care of. It's so hard to feel, but if I went numb I wouldn't... I couldn't..." She swallowed helplessly, repeatedly. "I'm so tired, Ally. I don't wanna talk."

"I know." Alex rubbed her shoulders, dropped a kiss on her head. "I'm gonna put this away and then we can go curl up and watch something dumb. I'm tired too."

Maggie didn't want to talk, and Alex wasn't forcing her. She wasn't even slightly annoyed. She hummed in the back of her throat, compartmentalizing, packing it away for later.

"One more thing, Mags?"

"Yeah?" Her voice sounded less rough. They were both on the couch now, Alex's head in Maggie's lap. The detective just loved to hold her agent after any sort of day. That was all she really wanted most of the time. Which, again, was fucking ridiculous. But there was nothing in her mind to question whether it was right. She knew Alex was hers.

"You, um... Did you get hurt today? Is there some injury? Because occasionally I hide that from you and I don't know if you hide it from me, and I wanted to check if I could get you ice or aspirin or stitches..."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "You're the one with the insane pain tolerance. I'm not that good at it. If I were hurt you'd know." She sighed a little too deeply. "I carry it in the eyes, besides."

"Well, yeah, anyone in pain carries it somewhere. There's gotta be a weak spot. I carry it in the eyes too, or the shoulders. When I hide it I just sit up a little straighter and don't look at you as much."

Maggie shook her head. "Not everyone has a weak spot," she mumbled, more to herself than her girlfriend. Alex reached up to thumb the side of her mouth, something that made Maggie purr contentedly every time. But Maggie turned away. "Sorry, Ally, I'm still a little miserable I guess. This is nice though. I just... don't want the face-touches. I don't feel like I deserve them so my brain yells at me, and it's loud, and it hurts."

Alex gave her a knowing look. "Well, you deserve me. And regardless of whoever believes that or not, it's true and I'm here. You deserve to feel okay, Mags." She paused, her voice thickened. "You deserve to rest, too, okay? To not work for a minute. Jeez, people I love just don't understand that."

"Hey, something on your mind?"

"It's just been so hard, today, to get Kara to understand that she can stop flying around and saving the world for a minute. She was on a 45-hour-I-have-to-be-everywhere-at-once bender and she just wouldn't rest or take 2 minutes until I grabbed her by the shoulders and yelled 'STOP!' Girl is a handful." Alex sighed deeply and ran soft fingers through Maggie's hair. "This okay?"

Maggie smiled. "Comin' from you? Always." She paused thoughtfully. "Little Danvers and I have some of the same issues, I see."

"Yeah, well, I love both of you deeply and irrationally, so I guess I'm stuck having to tell you all the time. And tuck slash wrestle you both into bed." Alex rolled her eyes. "You are both heroes. You don't have to get knocked out or get all your ribs fractured for anyone to know it. Seriously. Today I bought Kara a cheesecake shaped into the S insignia just to make her smile. I can get you a cheesecake too. Mon-El is my errand boy for pastries, it seems."

"I don't eat much cheese. Or cake."

Alex shuddered. "I can get you a... vegan cheesecake?"

Maggie laughed. "Don't worry, you don't need to find me the one vegan cheesecake that actually tastes good. It's back in Gotham, besides."

A brief faraway look piqued Alex's interest, and she nudged Maggie's ribs, prompting her to continue.

"Okay, yeah... that's what kinda caused the tail end of that little breakdown before. Mon-El sent me a photo of Kara, grinning like a million dollars, cheesecake in hand. That was cute shit you did there, Danvers."

Alex bit her lip, smiling, then frowning. "What do you mean, caused the breakdown...?"

"No, no, it was just the timing. I wanted it to be from you, the message, but it was of happy Little Danvers instead, and I felt a lot of things and then I was crying."

"Oh." Alex nuzzled closer into her, murmuring low in her throat. "Well, I'm here, Maggie. You know I got you."

Maggie nodded. "I know. I got you too, babygirl." She paused. "Wanna stop the movie and make out now?"

Alex pulled her down, kissing her sweetly, fiercely, tangling her in a mess of amazing Alex limbs. "There is nothing I want more."

Thanks for reading my condensed gay heart. Also, if you're not a fan of Daxam boy, this fic has minor Mon-El/Kara AND minor Supercorp. Kara has Feelings and is also probably demisexual but doesn't know that word yet! We'll check in with her about it in the not so distant future. Also, I'm a stressed college person so y'all are gonna be patient w me as I squeeze this writing out amongst stacks of final papers. Fic updates Sundays and Thursdays.
~ M