LOG: Day 1,229

PASSENGERS: 56

AUTHOR: Captain Alex Danvers

"Today," Captain Alex Danvers starts, deadly serious. Stoic. The camera couldn't pick up how badly her eyes were burning or what the migraine felt like pressing behind her temples. "For me, is the single hardest day of our journey back to Earth."

"I want to assure anyone who may be watching this that the sudden drop in passengers is not an indication of a death toll. In fact, while this is personally a devastating experience, it may be some of the best news for those that are disembarking in two lights."

"Three cycles ago, we interrupted a raid on another ship. As a thank you, they have offered us a jump ship. Normally, jump ships are just designed to be used for travel between an orbiting vessel and a planet, where there are insufficient docking facilities. However, this particular ship is equipped with one very important feature – It can travel at light speed."

Taking another breath, jaw tense, she kept talking, tone carefully balanced and controlled. "Our mechanics have checked it over and have determined it is perfectly safe for the distance remaining to earth and will easily take one hundred individuals back in a matter of lights."

"Unfortunately, this is not sufficient to get the entire crew home. In fact, we cannot afford to send a hundred people as it will make the Exodus difficult to run. We need at least fifty people aboard, including our pilot and mechanics, in order to safely continue to travel and get the rest of the crew home."

"Many have volunteered to stay aboard and see the remainder of this journey out on our ship. I thank all of those who did, deeply, but I cannot justify keeping more than is absolutely necessary on board. Our elderly and pregnant have already boarded the jump, along with supplies and resources which will help reintegration. We have prioritized those who have children waiting at home, and those that have been injured and cannot fight."

Words seem to freeze in Alex's mouth – her jaw working uselessly for a minute as she forced back any tears or reaction.

"All parents, and all children will be sent, excepting me, along with-"

"What?!"

Snapping her head to the side, Alex's eyes grew wide. "Ky, you shouldn't-"

"You can't make me go." While the now teenager was only just in frame, the edge of an arm occasionally threatening to come into view, the defiance in the words alone was effective.

"Ky, you have to, it's not-"

"Then come with because I'm not getting on that ship without you."

"Love, it's not that simple, I have a responsibility-"

"Yeah, and you also have a responsibility to me!"

"Ky-"

"No! You don't get to leave me – you don't get to just send me away because you're scared!" The shouting was undercut by tears, voice cracking as fear and anger coursed through the girl. "I get a say, and you can't make me go! I won't leave without you – I can't be alone again, please Ma, I can't do it- I just can't, I-"

"Okay," reaching over, Alex tugged the girl over until she was practically curled in her lap, pressing the sobbing girl's head against her chest carding fingers through loose hair. "Okay- I won't make you go, it's okay – breath it's okay. I got you, it's okay."

Eventually the tears subsided, and Ky leaned back just a little.

"You have to promise – promise that you won't make me go," even with damp eyes and shaking hands, it was with a strong voice that the thirteen-year-old made her demand.

Alex slipped fingers into her hair, by her ear, palm on her cheek – making sure that their eyes were locked and serious. "I promise, okay? I'm sorry I forgot – stronger together, remember?"

"El mayarah," she whispered back.

Maggie had been bracing for Christmas. From the moment local cafés started the aggravating jingles, and wholefoods ran the two-for-one special on eggnog, and she was woken at 6:30 on a Monday morning to the sounds of the city maintenance decorating the neighborhood's trees (Alex's apartment as certainly in a nicer area) – Maggie started to prepare. She leaned in closer during their weekly Noonan's lunch (the ones Lena didn't lay claim to) and was just a touch more tactile when Christmas themed ads ran during movie night.

Lucy, she was less worried about. The three of them never had the chance to celebrate Christmas together, and Lucy's family wasn't exactly the big family get-together type. So, aside from the grief they were still working through, Maggie didn't anticipate a sudden dip with her girlfriend.

Kara, on the other hand, was of great concern. Even if they had never talked about it, she just knew that the Danvers sisters would have spent holidays together. That there will be some stupid tradition that Kara enforced, and Alex pretended to hate – and they would wear ridiculous outfits but buy heartfelt gifts and the entire day would be straight out of those holiday cards Maggie resented as a teenager.

So, she was ready. She was preparing for December 25. And she was so focused on Christmas, that she missed something horribly obvious. Or, well, more likely, her extremely Catholic upbringing blinded her to the fact that December contained more than one holiday.

It was Tuesday night when reality crashed into them.

Maggie was busy in the kitchen, humming to herself as she shoved their dinner in the oven and set a timer. It had been hard, getting back into a normal routine, but cooking was something she liked, and feeding her girls always gave her joy. Now, she just had to get better at portioning for two.

Lucy was at the counter, pretending to work at her laptop, but really just watching her girlfriend. Most of her energy was directed at trying to ignore how her heart stirred whenever Maggie made little self-satisfied noises at the taste of her own food – but the rare smile tugged at her anyway.

It was Maggie's phone that rang, still plugged in by her laptop. Lucy forced herself (unsuccessfully) to wipe the dopey expression of her face as the other women suddenly turned towards her.

"Can you get that, babe?" she raised her hands in explanation, flour dusting her hands right up to her wrists.

Nodding, she pulled the device towards her. "It's just Kara," pressing speaker, she placed the phone between them so they could both listen.

"Hey LD, everything okay?" Maggie asked, stepping up to the other side of the counter.

"Ah," the distinctly male voice responded. "It's Winn, actually," Maggie braced her hands against the counter, floury handprints be damned, frowning at the phone.

"Winn? Where's Kara?"

"She's here, it's just," he stuttered to a stop. Maggie could feel the panic edging her mind – something about Winn's too high voice and unsteady breathing. "Can one of you come over? I think – I think she needs you guys."

"We'll be there in 15," Maggie replied, already shucking her apron and flicking all the heat off.

"Make that 10," Lucy added before hanging up, grabbing bike keys from the nearby bowl.

They made the trip in silence. Lucy, for once, not complaining about riding bitch. Knocking on Kara's door, the pair could feel their hearts accelerating, concern and panic only tempered by the fact that the girl inside was nearly indestructible.

Winn opened the door, pale and drawn and looking so clearly upset that Maggie fought the urge to immediately drag the boy into a hug.

"Hey, thanks for coming," he stepped aside to let them in, but remained by the door. "She's in her bedroom," he gestured in the direction, but neither moved away. His eyes were watery, and it genuinely looked like he was the one they should be worried about. "I don't know if you guys know, but tonight's Hanukkah… which is kinda a thing for the Danvers."

Visibly swallowing tears, he looked out the massive windows, eyeing the fact that the sun was still up. "It's like, a minor Jewish holiday, but 'cause Jeremiah was big into Christmas, they really went all out for it, for balance," he shrugged. "Plus, I think they liked the connection to the sun and light. Was kinda easier for Kara to understand when she first got here," another shrug. "Anyway, Alex usually does the shamash lighting and I… I just think it's just hitting her really hard again."

He blinked heavily and a couple stray tears escaped, which he roughly wiped away.

Lucy took a step towards him, as if to offer some comfort, but he waved her off. "Can you just," he nodded towards the bedroom. "Just look after her, okay? I'll go to James' or something, I promise. Just…"

"Of course," Lucy reached out anyway, and squeezing his arm. "Always."

"Thanks," he offered a watery smile, grabbing his jacket and leaving them to their sister.

Sharing a look, they shrugged off their jackets and placed their guns in the side table (they didn't know what kind of emergency this was). Turning the corner to Kara's room, their hearts broke.

Usually the brightest room in the apartment, Kara had pulled all the curtains. The girl in question was in bed, wrapped in layers of blankets, trying to add enough weight that she could feel the pressure. But what really broke the couple was her expression – her head was uncovered at the head of the bed, resting on a pillow. Even though the streaks of tears were still visible, her face was devoid of emotion. She was just silently staring at the wall opposite the window bank, eyes empty and hopeless.

"Kara," Lucy breathed, already on the move to kneel by her head. Reaching out, she touched the superhero's check, pulling the strands of tear-damp hair behind her ear carefully.

Meanwhile, Maggie had kicked off her shoes, and was already clambering up into the bed behind the distraught girl. Wrapping an arm around her waist and squeezing as hard as she could, she rested her chin on the girl's shoulder, watching Lucy try to get her attention.

"Sweetie," Lucy murmured, her own tears gathering.

"She's gone," the voice was so horse that it didn't even sound like Kara. Fresh tears started to fall. "She's gonna miss sunset."

"I know," Maggie watched her girlfriend also crumble, but stay upright for the girl between them.

"She's never missed a lighting," Kara whispered back. "Even when Jeramiah went missing, and Alex was supposed to do it for the first time and got so anxious she threw up. Even when she was seventeen and had the flu, Eliza made her come downstairs and do it all eight nights."

"I know sweetie," and Lucy did know. She could imagine it, even flunking out of college or between DEO missions, Alex Danvers would come home to do this one thing with her sister for eight nights straight. Because that's what the Danvers' sisters did for each other – they showed up.

"But she's not here," suddenly Kara's eyes focused on Lucy, and she almost wished they hadn't. The depth of her grief was reflected in those blue eyes tenfold – the pain of a girl who has already lost her whole world, and the one person she placed the remainder of her family in was gone. And she may never light another candle again. "What am I supposed to do now?"

It seemed like she actually wanted an answer, but Lucy had none. What do you do? She'd asked herself that so many times the last ten months and was still stumped.

"Well," Maggie finally spoke, only taking her chin from the girl's shoulder, to press her lips against it briefly. "I know it's not the same, and I don't know the first thing about Hanukkah, but me and Lucy can do the lighting with you?"

Kara frowned, but Lucy could see that, while it wasn't the right answer, it was a good one.

"There is still a few more minutes until sunset, but only if you want."

There was a long moment, where no one moved, Maggie with her chin on the girl, Lucy's fingers still resting on the damp cheek, Kara staring unblinkingly.

"Okay," she shifted, Maggie lifting to give her room to sit up. "But, you'll… you'll both stay right?"

Pressing a hand against a pajama clad knee, Maggie gave a faint smile. "Always."

Kara, more tenderly then normal, started to move around the apartment, collecting a nine branched candelabrum from her closet, and candles from the junk draw, she slowly set everything up on the windowsill, Lucy and Maggie hovering nearby.

"Um," she mumbled, straightening and re-straightening the candle box. "So, when the sun sets," they both looked outside towards the now setting sun. "I'll um," she trailed off again, squeezing her eyes closed so that a fresh set of tears escaped. The couple were immediately at her side, Lucy tangling her fingers with Kara's non-fiddling hand. "I'll light the shamash candle, and say the blessing, then light the first candle... and leave them lit for 30 minutes."

"Sounds like a plan, Little Danvers," Maggie offered, running a soothing hand along the younger girls back. And so, they waited, watching as the sky painted itself orange, then pink then fade into the horizon.

Hands shaking, even the one still in Lucy's grip, Kara lit the shamash. Hesitating for only a moment, time enough for Maggie to lean her head on her shoulder. She started to recite the appropriate blessings, Hebrew rolling off her tongue easily, even as tears streamed.

She finally lit the only other candle at the far right of the menorah, holding it there for a moment before returning the shamash to its place at the center.

For the following thirty minutes (and the following eight nights), all three women stood at the window, watching the candles burn away, thinking about the women missing from the room.

PERSONAL LOG: DR ALEX DANVERS, CAPT (#5)

- Detective Maggie Sawyer, NCPD -

- Co-Director Lucy Lane, DEO -

Alex's black Exodus uniform was more off then on, hanging open to reveal the dark grey singlet underneath. Her bad eye looked identical to its twin today, but she'd left her hand in its metallic form. Dryl had been running tests all day on it and had asked she leave it be until tomorrow. Thus, no skin textured coating.

"Hey guys," Alex smiled, working to not fidget with her very visible bad hand. "If you're seeing this, it means I failed. So… I really hope you don't. Have to see this that is." She winced at her own awkwardness, before sighing. "I've done hundreds of logs, and yet the moment I try talk to you two, I'm a stuttering mess again - I hope you're happy."

A pause, smile turning up at the corners. "I do, hope you're happy I mean. I… I hope that you built lives which are filled with the love and happiness you both deserve. I hope that I wasn't an anchor, you know?"

"I want you to know that this isn't the first video I've made you – it's like, the fifth?" She scratched her neck. "I just kept deleting them. Everything I say seems insignificant. Explaining how I feel about you two… its like trying to catch smoke."

"But, I've been speaking to my shrink – I know, contain your surprise – and she's explained that sometimes it's not what you say or how you say it but that you tried. So… I'm here, trying again. Bear with me."

Taking another steadying breath, Alex fixed her eyes on the camera – the closet she could manage to eye contact.

"Maggie, you taught me how to be myself. You… opened my eyes to the world. Made me better, more compassionate. You made me feel like I could just exist and that was enough. And Luce – you made me strong. You never let me back down from what I wanted, what I needed. You encouraged me to use my backbone for my own sake. You both saw me and helped build me up like no one had ever tried."

"I… I carry your lessons with me every day." Alex blinked, slow and careful, keeping the tears at bay. "I know that we never said the words, but I love you two. And I don't think I'll ever stop. I don't think I'm hardwired that way – even so many years later. You guys… you are it for me. I need you to know that."

"You two… were my heart. You, and Kara, made up everything kind and worthy and good that I had inside. When I first got out here, thinking about you guys, and what we had, what I had to get back to… it's what kept me going. It's what kept me fighting. It's what kept me alive."

"Now… some things have changed. I have changed – not always for the better," her bad hand flexed. "But also… my situation has changed. I-" she swallowed, breathed, and continued. "I adopted a daughter. Her name is Ky, and she… she's everything. And I know that this might change things for you if I get back – I know I might be letting go of our story for this one. But, I need you both to understand, whatever choices I made up here, for her, they weren't in opposition to wanting to be with you."

"But if I don't make it back, and she does, I hope that…" she rolled her jaw, tears burning. "Just... keep an eye out for her? She needs people like you, I-"

She choked off her a second, looking into the overhead lighting and blinking hard. "I don't even know if you guys like kids. We never got that far in our story… but if you can, could you just make sure she's loved? Make sure she's safe."

"And Kara… she needs people too. They're both lost children of dead planets, and they need people like you in their corner. So… if you can, just look out for them?"

"And always know – I've loved you in every moment, and nothing will ever change that."