She doesn't know how they're able to do it, but they manage to get home in one piece.
They go to Alex's place instead of hers.
Mostly because the detective can't quite remember where her keys were put in the disarray, and the eldest Danvers's apartment serves more as a middle ground than the detective's or Kara's anyway.
The brunette gently lowers herself into the passenger's side as Alex maneuvers her way to the driver's seat.
Kara takes the back. All but collapses into it.
Stretches her gangly limbs across all three seats.
Curling away from them and into the soft leather of the exterior backs.
And even those movements seem to be filled with subdued agony.
Leaving Maggie to wonder if it's really such a smart idea to leave the DEO in this state.
But J'onn had given them the go ahead. And his experience and expertise spoke volumes over hers.
When they pull out of the DEO parking garage, the silence is loud.
The silence is deafening. Excruciating.
The silence says more than any words ever could.
With both brunettes only half paying attention to the road.
Alex's line of sight is trained almost solely on the review mirror.
Her grip on the steering wheel so tight, the knuckles shine white.
Her train of thought is obvious.
Alex gives her a watery smile, when it becomes apparent she's staring to long.
Sliding her hand into hers, and though they both know it's not true, that they're not all really okay, for a moment it's easier to just pretend.
…. … … … …
They make it nine hours.
Almost ten. And that's regrettably further than Maggie thought they would have gotten.
The living room was converted into a makeshift bed room.
All three of them settling into the couches in the living room.
Covered by layer upon layer of blankets.
They turn on the television. Flipping the channels until they hit the Gilmore Girls reruns.
Alex even heats up left over potstickers. And they all, including Kara, manage a couple of bites, before flipping the lights and succumbing to sleep.
They almost make it.
Almost.
The sky is still dark outside when the detective flinches awake with alarming suddenness.
Something had crashed. Loudly. Snatching her away from her restless slumber.
The detective hastily blinks away the afterimages of an already fading dream.
And is already swinging her legs over the edge of the couch, bracing for the inevitable pounding behind her eyes to commence once more, as Alex shoots awake beside her.
It's hard to distinguish anything in the darkness at first, with only the gleam of the Golden Girls reruns providing flickering illumination throughout the living room.
But barley two steps forward and she sees it.
The coffee table. What used to be a coffee table.
A good thirty percent is now splintering wood and shattered glass.
The remnants lying haphazardly on its side.
That's what must made of the crash.
But why…?
In her peripheral vision, the detective sees the elder Danvers instinctively reach for her service weapon.
There's another crash. Louder now than the one that was muffled by her dreams.
Maggie whirls towards the noise.
"Kara?" Alex asks sleepily, still shaking cobwebs from her mind.
Kara. She's the only one not accounted for.
But it's not because she isn't there, Maggie realizes with a sickening dread.
She is here.
Squinting in the dark, she sees the blurred, dark shape of her, wobbly around the edges, but there.
Blurring around the room.
By the window. By the couch. By the dining room table.
Moving so fast, that Maggie's line of vision can barely keep up with her.
But something's off. Amiss.
The younger alien is stumbling, staggering, tripping over her own two feet.
Crashing into every other thing that happens to be in her path.
It's abnormal. It's scary.
Both women take a small cautious step forward.
But another phased blur wisps the younger Danvers from their sight.
It takes a full moment for the detective, still fighting off the remnants of vertigo, to locate the blonde again.
And it's only luck, that she catches the alien from the corner of her eye, disappearing across the room, stumbling up the stairs, out of sight.
Alex doesn't even hesitate.
Sprinting after her sister. Yelling her name.
Maggie's close behind. Her vertigo fueled nausea makes sure to protest harshly against any vigorous activity, moving faster than she really should be with a concussion and fractured ribs.
The distant sound of retching resonates dully from the upper floor.
And the tilted feeling, the feeling that everything is wrong wrong wrong resonates dully within her.
There's nothing she can do about it.
Alex, a good five to six strides ahead of her, beats the detective to the restroom.
Hesitating for only the briefest of moments, before blind panic sends her barreling though the door.
When Maggie catches up, the scene is chaotic.
The blonde is hunched over the toilet, gripping the sides with such force the fragile porcelain fractures under the pressure of her inhuman strength.
The elder Danvers is already there, holding Kara's hair away from her face, but her superhuman speed, sporadically blurring the blonde in and out of focus, makes even that difficult .
Moving so fast yet remaining, quite literally in one place.
As if she's trying to phase herself out of existence.
It's a terrifying testament to how powerful the younger girl is.
A testament to her current lack of control.
"Alex. What can I do?"
Because there must be something that she can do. Something. Anything.
Or nothing at all.
"Gah!"
Kara groans loudly.
Grabbing her head as she tilts sideways, wrangling away from Alex's loose grip, tumbling further into the room.
Everything blurs for a moment.
And her speed skids her across the small room.
Slamming the younger woman into the adjourning wall with such visceral force the room shakes with the impact.
The resulting dent in the wall is the least of their worries.
The young blonde is visibly shaking, sweat pouring down her face as her hands ferociously rub at her temples. Trying to rid herself of the pain only she can feel.
"Kara, wait a minute, wait…"
Alex crouches down next to her sister, trying to subdue the panicking alien. Trying to get a grip on the situation.
If the blonde registers either of their presence, there is no outward indication.
"Fuck. Fuck. F-fuck."
Kara's trying to get up again, slurring a mantra of colorful choice words, as she struggles off the cool tile.
It immediately becomes clear, as the blonde manages to her knees, that her body will not cooperate.
Maggie watches from the entrance, as her entire form goes rigid and the slurred mantra abruptly breaks off.
Then she's screaming.
A scream filled with so much pain, agony, and despair.
As terrifying as it is deafening.
Kara collapses back onto floor.
Curling into herself. Bracing her skull in an unbreakable iron grip. As if that would make a difference
Both of the older women recoil.
And from the way Alex freezes, Maggie can tell that she had never been faced with this situation before.
That she doesn't know what to do.
Kara's form trembles into a blur, and her soul-tearing scream is cut off, as her speed corals her into another wall.
The mirror falls from its screws. Shattering into dozens of small, jagged pieces as it hits the floor.
Tremors rack her tense form, and the younger woman's tightly sealed eyes barely hide the unshed tears as she lets out a desperate sound.
A terrible gasping noise. She's crying. She's breaking.
"No… no.. no…"
Kara's fingers curl tighter into her loose blonde curls,
The detective can hear her crying, can hear quick, shallow breaths that sound all too distressing.
"Kara, Kara? I need you to try and breathe for me, Kara. Can you hear me? Kara, it is really important that you try your best to breathe for me…remember those breathing exercises Eliza taught you?"
Alex had adopted her most professional tone of voice, calm and collected, although Maggie could see the fearful concern in amber tint of her eyes.
Ignoring the fragments of porcelain and plaster and glass that surround her like a twisted art exhibit.
Kara doesn't respond.
If anything, she seems to curl up into a smaller ball, sobbing brokenly. Letting out pitiful, almost inhuman moans of pain.
Her throat raw from the screams.
Her eyes screwed shut in pain.
Maggie gingerly reaches out, resting a hand lightly on Alex's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting manner.
"Alex, what can I do?"
She begs.
"I don't… I don't know. I don't know!"
Alex's voice is high pitched and keening.
And for the first time she sounds scared. Not just worried. Not just concerned. Scared.
The detective's stomach churns violently at the unwelcome familiarity of it.
Kara blurs away again, shooting across the room, blasting away what remains of the plaster wall.
The blonde's facing away from them now, her shoulder's shaking with desperate sobs.
Her long fingers, having relinquished their grip against her temples, instead rake down the back of her neck, tearing at the skin, making it bleed.
"Kara… You need to calm down. Come on… You're hurting yourself."
The detective tries her own hand at placating the girl.
It's to no apparent avail.
Another ferocious blur wrestles its was through her form.
And suddenly, the detective finds herself looking at very bright, very green eyes.
Neon emerald encompassing her pupils, her rises, the whites of her eyes.
It takes a moment to realize she's looking directly at Kara's heat vision.
In a fluid motion, Alex yanks Maggie away from Kara's line of sight.
The unexpected movement is blindingly painful for an instant; then her ribs readjust into the dull, vindictive ache.
The blonde bites out another pained gasp scrambling away from them.
Burning plaster infiltrates her senses.
A wave of guilt washes over her. She shouldn't have waited so long.
She should have searched out the blonde as soon as she felt something was off. But she'd been so adamant about getting that damn drink. Had been so quit to dismiss-
"MAGGIE!"
Maggie's mind snaps back towards the present.
There are no more words left; her brain is just scattered thoughts of chaos and anxiety and tension and everything is exploding.
"Maggie, we have t-to- we have to knock her out."
The brunette's eyes are wild, her tone regretful.
But she's right.
"I have a syringe filled with kryptonite in the gun safe. Can you- can you-?"
Alex murmurs distractedly as her sister's tremors worsen.
But the detective already knows what she's asking and jumps at the chance for something to do.
Maggie spills into the hallway.
Feeling her way along in the dark until she finds the light switch.
The bright fluoresce hurls spots into her vision.
But she stumbles along. Adrenaline fueling her hasty movements.
The gun safe is in the brunette's room.
And she doesn't have enough time to wonder why Alex would even have Kryptonite outside of the government base.
Her hands are shaking as she dials the combination.
It's the first thing she sees.
Bright, pulsing emerald green.
Encased in a green tipped syringe.
The lights flicker above her.
Another tremor shakes the walls.
Accompanied with another wail of pain.
Maggie snatches the syringe from the deposit box.
Runs back to bathroom. Back to the chaos.
Alex is hovering next to her sister, desperately trying to talk her down.
It's horrifying.
Seeing then both, rumpled and frightened in the middle of her tiny bathroom.
Kara pulling at her thick blonde curls, wheezing out words that made no sense.
Alex frantically murmuring comfort words that make no difference.
She hobbles forward, crashing to the floor as she hastily removes safety wrapping from the pulsing, emerald syringe.
And now that Maggie's closer, she sees that Kara's self-inflicted scratches had indeed left a presence.
Angry red marks, spotted with bubbling crimson blood.
It's ironic. That the only other thing strong enough to hurt Kara was Kara herself.
And it was cruel, that Alex and Maggie who had been forced to stay back as the younger Danvers's mind tried to tear, now possessed the only other thing that would bring the younger women harm.
With burgeoning guilt, the detective plunges the green tipped needle into the nape of Kara's neck, forcefully expelling its contents before she could blur away again.
At first nothing seems to happen.
Kara mutters something incomprehensibly, her voice muddled by tears, sweat, and sheer exhaustion.
Her trembling fingers, formerly raking jagged marks against anything they could touch, drop to the ground, until she's balancing her weight on her palms.
"Easy," Alex murmurs, like she's comforting a young child who'd gotten herself banged up by something bigger and meaner than she was.
Still crouching with her, less than a hand's length away, even when the danger is palpable.
"Shhh. We're gonna get this taken care of, okay? That's it, you're fine. You're fine."
The elder Danvers murmurs those words frantically, softly, as the kryptonite begins to take effect.
Kara wavers on her knees for a moment.
Sways back and forth as the emerald rock courses its way through her bloodstream.
A distinct fogginess begins to dominate her movements, the tremors becoming far and few in between.
Then her glassy cobalt eyes roll in their sockets, back up into her head and the blonde's arms relinquish their support.
Alex catches her then. Grabbing her younger sister. Enveloping her in her arms.
And Maggie stumbles backwards.
Ends up sliding down the wall only several feet from the door, as the remaining adrenaline wracks the last few desperate breaths from her lungs.
The syringe of kryptonite rolls from her hands, drops to the floor.
And she sits there for a moment, trying to comprehend what in the hell just happened.
The silence is broken by the sharp intakes of breath as hot tears begin to weave trails down Alex's cheeks.
Tears in the corners of Alex's eyes. Real, actual tears.
Kara is completely unconscious now. Her figure limp as Alex cradles her in her arms.
"You're okay. You're okay…"
The shakiness in her tone betrays any semblance of confidence.
"Alex… She's not okay."
There's a beat of silence.
And their amber eyes meet.
"I know."
Maggie can't remember the last time she heard her girlfriend sound so broken.
… … …
It takes a full five minutes and their combined effort to move Kara out of the bathroom.
Away from the shattered porcelain, the crumbling plaster, and broken glass.
Alex does most of the heavy lifting.
Having wiped away her tears, reverting back to her DEO agent persona.
It must feel safer to hide behind that mask of confidence and authority.
Maggie ambles closely behind.
It's a shame that she sees right through it.
One more step…
One more step…
One after another…
They don't even try to bring her back downstairs.
The adrenaline and strength for that kind of feat is long gone.
Instead, the unconscious woman goes on Alex's bed.
A mess of heavy uncooperative limbs.
The elder Danvers checks her watch as she measures younger sister's pulse, silently counting the beats as the detective lays a blanket over the blonde.
If it wasn't for the recent events, she would have mistaken it for slumber instead of unconsciousness.
Alex lets out a breathy chuckle.
Maggie glances up sharply at the seemingly misplaced laughter.
"I don't… Her pulse is normal. Her temp is normal. I don't… Nothing's wrong. I don't know what's wrong…"
Her laughter had been heavy with disbelief.
The eldest Danvers turns sharply away from the both of them then.
Obviously trying to compose herself.
Miserably failing. Her girlfriend's fists clench and unclench, shaking much like Kara's had earlier.
"Alex…"
When Alex turns back her eyes are shiny with unshed tears.
"I… I need to call J'onn. He'll know. He'll know what to do."
Maggie desperately wants to believe that.
The brunette disappears from the room.
And Maggie listens to her fading footsteps as she leans against the dresser.
Kara.
She looked like she was sleeping. Just sleeping.
Why couldn't she just have been sleeping?
Within seconds her girlfriend is back.
Hands trembling as the brunette shakily dial out J'onn's number.
With anger or with sadness or with the remnants of fear, Maggie doesn't know for sure.
She does know that J'onn better be prepared for the force to be reckoned with.
She puts phone on the dresser, turns it on speaker as she sits across from Maggie.
It rings once. Then twice.
Then he answers.
Before either of them can get word in he's already speaking.
"It's Timborzati. That's what he gave her."
Timborzati.
Timborzati.
Timborzati.
A parasite.