(*cautiously emerges from my self-imposed hermitage*) Please don't hate me?

I'm so sorry. I'm a horrible person, and I don't deserve all your amazing support. I'm sorry, I'm terrible, I'm sorry.

csiaddictfan82: Thank you so much for all your continued reviews, I kinda wish you weren't reviewing as a guest so I could properly reply to you. Thank you, you're amazing xxx

Also, you guys should go give some love to fandomlove17, because without their continuous support, this chapter would've been a lot longer coming (though I still think the hitman might've been a good idea, yeah? Next time? :p), thank you infinitely awesome person xxx

There's probably a whole lot more people I'm forgetting, but it's also 1.30 in the morning and I can no longer English (please just know you're all appreciated more than I could ever say).

Anyways.

...

Chapter Five:

J'onn was quickly approaching 48 hours without sleep, but he had no intentions of resting. He knew his own limits, of course, but he also knew that his physiology- imbued with a strength that came from living in a climate as unforgiving as the Martian soil of his youth- would allow him energy beyond what a human could achieve.

But this, holding the façade of Hank Henshaw, is draining even him after such an extended time, so in the privacy of his office he lets it fall, reveling in the familiarity and sense of self that comes with wearing his own skin.

It's less enjoyable, though, considering the turmoil his mind's in.

Because this case, with Alex and Kara and the two Montgomery's, still remains too complex for him to fully have a grasp on.

He knows how it started, thanks to Maggie's relay on what Alex had in turn told her. He knows Kara's story, further solidified by what Alex had dutifully written in her after-action report, and what was reflected in their medical evaluations.

But he also knows what he saw in Alex's eyes, before she'd bought half the DEO crumbling down on itself, and that wasn't the look he'd grown to be familiar with.

J'onn sighs, sitting back far into the chair and closing his eyes. This bone-deep exhaustion is a familiar and unwelcome feeling. Sometimes he feels like he's in a permanent state of separation, merely drifting through the moments like a ghost. Maybe, if that's the case, one day he'll just float away, aimless and alone.

That was the trouble, he'd found, with taking on another's form; sometimes he worried that he'd forget what it meant to be himself. And when that happens, who would remember his daughters? His beautiful, perfect daughters?

If he's a ghost, then they're his anchor, tethering him to this world with the fear of being forgotten.

There are other things, though, that keep him sane. His position as Director of the DEO is fulfilling enough that it brings a certain sense of satisfaction, even if it requires the constant persona of Hank Henshaw. The long hours keep him busy, and over the years he's slowly- but surely- managed to bring about a significant change in society's view towards aliens. It's slow going, of course, and there'll always be people incapable of being changed, of accepting difference. But the way J'onn sees it, if he can help even one extraterrestrial being find a home, it's worth any and all effort on his part.

And then, of course, there's the people he's learned to care for.

Alex and Kara, more specifically.

It's not just because of the promise he made to their father. And it's not even because of Kara's Kryptonian blood or Alex's proficiency as an agent. It's because both girls- with their fire and tenacity, strength and kindness- have worked their ways so firmly into his heart that it's almost impossible to imagine a life without them.

And he knows the pain of losing a child, is intimately familiar with how completely world-shattering it can be. So, there's a part of him, a horrible tormenting voice, that's wondering if this is what it'll take to make him lose Alex and Kara too.

(They arrive on the scene mere minutes after the proper authorities, drawn as much by the thick plume of black smoke spiraling into the air than the location they're receiving from both Alex and Kara's phones.

J'onn leaps from the van as soon as it comes to a stop, striding towards where the nearest group of officers and firemen stand staring at the smoldering ruin that used to the Montgomery's primary lab. It's an isolated warehouse, bordered only by large expanses of cracked concrete, so apparently they don't have to worry about the flames spreading to any neighbouring structures; if they think there's no one inside, they'll be perfectly fine with letting the fire burn itself out.

Several officers turn to face him as the DEO van pulls up, their faces varying from apprehension to a certain frustration. He knows what they're thinking of course, because numerous black vans with tinted black windows just scream a federal agency coming in to take over a scene. Normally he'd care. Normally he'd play nice, come across approachable, and try and fight the stigma of an agent throwing around his weight.

He finds he doesn't really care though. Not with so much- or more specifically, who exactly- was at stake.

"Detectives," he announces, "I'm Director Hank Henshaw. I need to know what happened here."

"What's it to you?" one of the men questions. "you feds got an operation here going or something?"

J'onn's jaw clenches. "If we did, it'd be deemed confidential," he answers gruffly, ignoring the way that this makes the cop's face twist in anger, "and it's not relevant in terms of your response. So I'll ask again; what happened here?"

The cops exchange dark looks, none of them obviously prepared to give an easy answer. And if J'onn didn't already have fury pulsing through his veins, this blatant display of disrespect would be enough to get him going. But finally, one of them steps forward.

"We don't know what happened. We just responded to a call of a chemical fire. The warehouse operated as a lab, owned by K'nex Ltd, but according to those security guards there, they were the only ones there."

J'onn looks over to where the officer had indicated, managing- just barely, though the mass of firefighters and police now on the scene- to catch a glimpse of the flashing lights of two ambulances, their back doors open as they treat several men with soot-stained faces and gasping desperately into breathing masks.

He doesn't say another word to the officers, he just strides towards the ambulances.

An EMT spots him approaching first, must recognize something in the furious determination on his face. "Sir, you can't be here-"

"Who else was there?" he demands from the nearest man. The slightly-charred shirt he wears still bearing small, tidy logo of K'nex Ltd.

"Sir. I realize you're desperate for answers. But that'll have to wait until these men-"

"Who else was there." There's no question in his words anymore; his patience is a thing lost quickly if there's even the slightest chance that Alex and Kara are still there somewhere, trapped in the flames.

The guard stares up at him, his eyes narrowed and squinting. "You a cop?"

J'onn's voice is a low growl. "No. I'll be worse if you don't start giving me answers."

The paramedic tries to cut in again. "Alright look-"

"Tell me what happened."

The guard swallows once. Twice. Looks over to the other two men dressed in the same uniform and all bearing evidence of their proximity to the lab's explosion. They both stay silent though, evidently leaving it to this man to figure out what answer to give. He looks back to J'onn. "We don't know what happened. The Montgomery's came back around 11. They took the elevator down to the lab, but came back up soon after and told us to evacuate. About five minutes after that the whole thing burst into goddamn flames."

"And where are the Montgomery's now? Where are the two women with them?

And that's when the guard looks at him- really looks at him. And J'onn watches his eyes narrow slightly, seemingly coming to a decision.

"No. They were alone. They came alone and they left alone. And I don't know where they are now."

For a second, it's all J'onn can do to restrain himself from closing the distance between them, or from forcing himself into this man's mind and exposing him as the liar he is. But he can't expose this man in that way without exposing himself as well, or giving away the fact that he knows far more about the situation than his mere presence suggests.

And, as much as it might frustrate him, it's obvious that these men aren't going to provide any more help. So instead of stepping forward, instead of absolutely demanding the answers he seeks with all the force his Martian powers allow, he steps back, fixing the men with one last glare to let them know this is far from over, and turns away.

"All agents, be on the lookout," he says into his comm unit, striding back to the van, "the status of Agent Danvers and Supergirl is unknown. The guards aren't going to be any help, either," he adds on bitterly.

He barely notices the various response this receives- a mix of affirmations and further assurances that they've set up a perimeter, looking for both their two missing agents and the Montgomery's. He's focused instead on taking stock of his surroundings.

He doesn't know how, or to what extent they're injured; the message they'd left for him had been infuriatingly brief. But if they're both out of commission, then surely they wouldn't've gone far. They would've found a secure spot, bunked down with what little they obviously have, and wait for him to find them.

Which he will. There's no other alternative here.

With that conviction in his mind, J'onn forces his thoughts to calm, breathing out a long, slow breath. He's far away now from the other people that he allows the barriers in his mind to fall, shifting through the thoughts and emotions that suddenly bombard him. It's useless to search for Kara's mind, but even though he doesn't quite have the same level of connection to Alex as with M'gann, he's still attuned to her thoughts enough to pick up their faint trail coming from not too far away.

He sets off again, this time heading away from the general chaos towards the next warehouse. It's there, tucked in the shadowy space between one brick-walled alleyway and another, that he finds them.

And J'onn has been an agent for many years now. He's seen a myriad of horrible things in his career.

So why did this scene fill him with such particular horror?

Kara's on her knees, her usual brightly pastel-coloured clothes grimy and stained slightly with soot. Even from J'onn's relative distance, she's clearly pale and shaky where she knees, such a far cry from the power she usually personifies.

Kara looks up as he steps closer. "J'onn, thank Rao. Alex needs medical attention. Now."

It's then that he rounds the corner enough to catch a glimpse of what- or more exactly, who- she's kneeling in front of, and his heart drops.

It's not because Alex is laying prone on the ground, propped up against the brick wall, her face as pale as he's ever seen it. It's not even because of the gunshot wound to her leg, treated obviously to the best of Kara's ability with her belt fashioning a makeshift tourniquet around Alex's thigh.

It's because Alex- with all of her bravado and strength and impossible kindness- is currently crumpled against the brick wall, head between her knees and her nails digging bloody gouges where she grips her upper arms.

"What the hell happened?" he growls.

"I- she injected herself with something. It was a painkiller- for her leg. She- we- wouldn't've been able to walk otherwise-"

"Stop."

Alex's sudden voice- strained and broken- turns them back to her. Her eyes haven't moved from where they look to the ground, but J'onn's gaze is drawn instead to where her hands are clenched, knuckles strained white pushing against the concrete.

Whatever Alex injected herself with, it's clear that it was no mere painkiller.

Immediately following that thought, J'onn reaches up a hand to flick on the comm unit again, informing the medics as to their location and their general status.

"Just- stop talking- please."

Kara reaches out, threading a hand through one of Alex's alone. "Shh, it's okay," she comforts. The Kryptonian's voice is still strained somewhat, but her skin's less grey and her grip on her sister's hand is firm. "You're gonna be okay. I'm so sorry, Alex,"

That's when J'onn extends his own hand, clasping Kara's shoulder hard enough to bruise a normal person. "You did everything you could've." He doesn't even need to know what happened down in that facility. He knows Kara; that tells him enough.

She shakes her head immediately. "I should've stopped her. I should've just flown the both of us out of there."

And J'onn knows she would've tried, but judging from the residual weakness that's still affecting her even now, her powers would've been a thing of the past. She would've been crippled as much as Alex still is.

His attention snaps back to his agent at the sound of a loud crack. At first, he doesn't know what's caused the noise. But then he sees, with a cold sense of alarm, that Alex had slammed a fist against the ground.

And the concrete had cracked, fractured underneath the strength of her punch.

And she's just looking at them, with eyes that don't quite seem to register who they are, and growls, "I said- stop talking."

There's a split second then, an instant that just seems to go on and on and on. And all registering in his head is the undeniable feeling that something is horribly wrong here.

But then the medics arrive, converging on the two girls and forcing J'onn to take a step backwards and out of the way. He growls, fighting an instinctual urge to sweep the emergency crew to the side and tug Alex and Kara into his own grip.

It's moments like this where he has to remind himself that, although this isn't the life he'd have chosen for the two of them, it's the one they chose for themselves; it's the one they've dedicated and sacrificed themselves to.

Alex is an agent. Kara is Supergirl. They're fighters in every sense of the word.

But watching the medics fuss over them, one immediately setting up an IV in the back of Alex's hand and another barking questions at Kara, he only wishes that the consequences for fighting battles like these weren't quite so harsh.

It takes a long time for Dr. Hamilton to approach him about Alex and Kara's condition. Far too long.

J'onn had taken to pacing outside of the examining room where the two were being treated, and if his furious and relentless strides weren't enough to deter any of his agents from approaching, the absolute glare- red eyes glowing- that he sent towards anyone that came too close cinched the deal.

And maybe he could stop the whispers- at least the ones within his earshot- but he couldn't do anything about the thoughts of those around him. Or the feelings. And unfortunately, both those things carried through his mind in relentless waves.

-heard they walked into a trap, that whoever it was knew she was Supergirl-

-Did you see what they both looked like? Fucking hell, I thought they were both dead-

- must be Kryptonite, yeah? Nothing else coulda possibly-

-Only a matter of time, really. What did they think would happen, what with her flying all over the city like that?-

-Danvers was on something for sure-

J'onn growls, and that sound alone sends anyone remaining in the area scurrying. Good, he thinks bitterly, their presence wasn't helping anyone.

The door opens behind him, and J'onn whirls around to face Dr. Hamilton as she approaches. She holds up a hand before he has a chance to speak, looking past him to where some of the lab techs are still leaving. "You," she waves one of them over- a boy really, couldn't have been older than 25. "Run a full tox screen on this sample; I want your report in an hour, you hear?"

The tech scurries away, leaving J'onn to watch as Hamilton rubs a hand across her eyes, sighing deeply before looking up at him. "Where the hell did you send them this time, sir?"

He doesn't waste the time in correcting her. "How are they?"

The doctor takes the time to peel off her gloves, chucking them towards the nearest bin before turning back to face him with a slight frown. "Kara will be fine," she says, "whatever Kryptonite she was exposed to was potent, so she's still somewhat feeling its effects. But she's under the sunlamps now and she'll be back to normal in no time."

"And Alex?"

Hamilton's slight hesitation makes J'onn's fear roar back to life. "I need to see the results of her bloodwork before coming to any sort of conclusion. Kara said she injected herself with something; whatever that was produced an extreme reaction,"

Extreme, J'onn muses, thinking about how he'd stumbled upon Alex and Kara, and the way the pavement had cracked under Alex's fists. And that had been some time after as well; he can only imagine what Kara had seen.

There's several words for power like that; unnatural, uncontrollable and dangerous. Yes, he thought, extreme was certainly one way of putting it.

His apprehension isn't helped in the slightest when the doctor continues.

"There's another thing; whatever was in that syringe, it's dramatically increased the rate her body is healing at. The bullet wound to her leg was an injury that should've required surgical intervention, followed most likely by months of rehab. But if it continues in this way, she should be back on her feet in a matter of days."

It's far too good to be true. "What about possible side effects?"

"It's impossible to know," Hamilton answers, shaking her head slightly, "without running those tests. I'm doing all I can, and I'll let you know as soon as I have any answers. But for now…" she trails off, looking as uncertain as J'onn as ever seen her. "We'll just have to watch her closely."

J'onn takes a step back, rubbing his burning eyes. "I'll stay with them," he says finally, "for as long as you need."

Hamilton nods, stepping to the side so that the door behind her is clear. J'onn makes his way towards it.

"Sir?"

He looks back.

"I know you need to know what happened. But… don't push them. I've never seen Alex like this. I don't know what she's thinking, and I can't say how she'll react."

The memory from earlier returns then, of Alex's blazing eyes and choked-out words. They'd been something unfamiliar in her gaze at that moment, something different and twisted.

No, he doesn't know how she'll react either.)

James Olsen is a man of action.

He became a reporter to expose the myriad of injustices he saw day to day. He became the Guardian to protect those who fell victim to crime. Those around him had asked in multiple times why he felt the need to take such an active stance, why he had to put himself in so much danger; was it because he wanted to change the world? Make it a better place, just like he'd watched Clark and Kara achieve?

And yes, while that was a true, a thousand times over, it also boiled down to the fact that this was his fight too. He couldn't just sit by and wait for others to win the battles. James had to as well.

He had to do something.

That was why now, instead of standing in wait outside Kara's treatment room along with Winn and Vasquez and the myriad of others the Kryptonian had befriended in her time as Supergirl, he was here; clearing out the debris from the DEO's atrium.

It seemed an insurmountable task, shifting all the loose bricks and chunks of concrete and drywall, made all the more sobering with the knowledge that had they Supergirl's help, the job would've been done in a few mere minutes. But it was also better than just standing there, waiting for news that was progressively grimmer.

He doesn't know how long he's been working for; its been several hours since Kara had come out of surgery, since Winn had told him that Dr. Hamilton had kicked everyone out of her room. All he forces himself to focus on is the repetitive motion of shifting through the piles of debris. The smaller chunks of concrete, he moves to one side; the larger ones- if he can carry them- he shifts to another, where a small group of agents are using various jackhammers to break them into smaller, more manageable pieces.

And like this, with sweat dripping down his back and his muscles screaming with the exertion, he works. And he watches.

Every face he sees is lined with exhaustion; it hangs like a cloud in the very air above them. He's not overly surprised though, because who would've suspected such an attack in the DEO's very own base? Who would've ever expected to see Supergirl fall? And at Alex's hands, none the less.

And there was another reason why he'd become the Guardian: so he could protect the innocent from those with their own dangerous intentions.

But no.

James shakes his head roughly, as if that motion could destroy the thought forever. It hadn't been Alex. He doesn't know the elder Danvers too well- their interactions were limited purely to where they regarded Kara- but he knows that, with every bit of his heart. She'd never had hurt her sister. Not unless there was something deeper at play, something that went far beyond the surface.

And then, cutting through the heavy, laden air, comes a voice. Lined with anger, creased with frustration, and yet completely recognizable, it jolts James upwards, his spine straightening with sharp pains of protest.

He doesn't even hesitate. Ripping off the thick layer of his gloves, he follows Maggie's raised voice.

Surprisingly- only because he would've thought she'd practically be glued to Alex's side at a time like this- James finds her outside Kara's room.

Even more surprisingly, he finds her as she looks about two seconds away from murdering the DEO's head doctor.

"- the actual fuck is your problem, huh? What the hell do you think's given you the authority to stop me from seeing Kara?!"

And he has to hand it to Dr. Hamilton; even in the face of Maggie's fury, she doesn't so much as take a step backwards. She's probably seen a lot worse, he muses, after working with the DEO for as long as she has. "As the doctor in charge, I have the only right to do what's right regarding my patient. Right now, that means restricting anything that causes her emotional distress-"

"Emotional distress?!"

Hamilton merely blinks. "Yes. Emotional distress. Because as much as you might want to deny it, nothing about this-" she gestures to their surroundings, to the bandages covering a myriad of wounds and to their exhausted faces- "is going to help her. There's nothing here that can help her. Accept that, Detective."

Subtly- so small that James is immediately wondering if he imagined it- he sees Maggie flinch slightly, her eyes flashing with an unknown emotion. It's enough to make him frown, wondering what exactly Hamilton had said that would trigger such a response.

"Besides," the doctor continues, "it wouldn't make much difference now, anyway. We've sedated her so nothing aggravates her wounds any further-"

"You've sedated her?!"

This is where James intervenes, stepping forward to place a calming hand on Maggie's shoulder. "Alright, how 'bout we just take a sec-"

She shrugs out of his grip, stepping closer to Hamilton with a glare that could cut through glass. "You listen the hell up, alright? I just made a promise to the woman I love that I'd stay by Kara's side. I've already broken one promise to her this week, so you can bet that I'm not all together fine with the idea of you standing in the way of me now."

Maggie's words are laced with an undeniable threat of violence; James takes a step forward, reaching up a hand to steer the Detective away, but is interrupted by the appearance of another voice.

"Alright, that's enough!"

J'onn strides towards them, his face a mask of fury, appearing even the more formidable with the array of bruises shading his face. "Would someone like to tell me just what the hell is going on here?"

Deathly silence is his only answer; even Hamilton seems momentarily lost for words in the face of the Director's anger. It lasts for only a second though, before the doctor steps forward.

"Sir, for the interests of everyone involved, I've temporarily sedated Supergirl so that she receives the rest she needs to heal. Detective Sawyer here," James sees Maggie's form tighten once again, "was just expressing her disapproval."

J'onn's eyes shift towards Maggie, scanning her up and down, seemingly taking in everything from the exhausted slump of her shoulders to her ruined jacket- she obviously hasn't gotten around to finding something else to change into, and the black leather still bears the marks of the day's earlier events.

"Alright," J'onn finally says, looking to all the people who've gathered to see what all the noise is about, "show's over. Everyone get back to work."

Only a few people are left once the others have hurried away. J'onn sends a look at James, but apparently comes to the conclusion that his presence can't ultimately do any harm, as the Martian merely looks the other way. He's seemingly accepting that James will hear his next words.

J'onn beckons Maggie closer. "Sawyer- Maggie-" he corrects softly, "as much as it pains me to admit it, but Hamilton's right. Both Alex or Kara need rest, and neither are anywhere aware enough to know if you're there with them or not."

"It doesn't matter whether they're aware-"

"I know. I know that. But don't you think you'll be more help to them both if you've slept?" he takes a breath, sparing a moment to look around at the grey walls and shadowed corners of the corridor they're standing in. "I know this place, I know how overbearing it is after too long. So take a few hours, get some rest, some food, and come back ready to fight tomorrow," he claps a heavy hand on her shoulder, "without Alex and Kara, we're going to need all the fighters we have. I need you to take care of yourself," and here the Director's eyes take on an undeniable sense of sadness. "You're not the only person that made Alex promises."

It's a short drive from the DEO to Alex's apartment, something Maggie is profoundly grateful for. But all things considered, it's still a miracle she manages to get there without causing at least four crashes.

She's exhausted, but she also knows enough about her adrenaline-laden mind to know that sleep won't come so easily.

She can't remember the last time she's eaten, but the thought of food makes her stomach turn.

She wants Alex. But Alex had sent her away- to look after Kara yes, but then Hamilton had refused to let her into the room, and then J'onn had all but pushed her out of the door, ordering her to go home and get some rest, and that he'd call the instant anything changed.

So yeah, Maggie doesn't really know what to do now. She stands in the doorway of Alex's apartment for several seconds before gathering her morale; double locking the door, then moving around the apartment, turning on practically every light Alex has, as if that can somehow chase away the sense of isolation gripping her heart.

She throws together a meal out of various leftovers in the fridge, and forces herself to swallow despite the fact that it practically tastes like sawdust in her mouth. Food is a necessity, like sleep (like Alex).

Their bed is far too cold and vast, so Maggie drags the comforter off and throws herself down on the couch. She takes the time to unlace her boots and throw her jacket towards the nearest chair, but can't bring herself to do more despite the grime coating her teeth and dust still in her hair.

She'll shower in the morning, Maggie promises herself, and have a proper breakfast. At least then she'll be free from those distractions. At least, then she'll have the strength to face whatever tomorrow throws at her.

The couch feels like a bed of feathers to her bruised body; cramped, yes, but still ridiculously soft to her tired limbs. And far faster than she'd expected, her weighted eyelids drift closed, the familiar sounds of the city lulling her to an exhaustion-induced daze.

But as she'd predicted, her sleep isn't restful.

For with sleep comes the memories of the past few weeks and all the things that make sense now; put into this sharp, unforgiving context.

And it's about as far from restful as she can possible get.

(Her phone goes off just as she's cinching tight her cuffs around a perp's wrists. She can feel it vibrating through the pocket of her jacket, but ignores it, focusing instead on shoving the blatantly intoxicated man out of the alleyway. Her phone stops buzzing just as her car comes into sight. "You good, Korsak?" she calls over her shoulder.

Her partner- a man not too much older than her, but with fine strands of grey already shading the hair at his temples, a fact that he's notoriously conscious of- groans, climbing to his feet and brushing off his knees. "Didn't have any coffee this morning," he mumbles, just loud enough for her to hear.

She grins. "But you did walk in this morning carrying that thermos; what did Kate make you this morning, huh? High-protein punch plus? Something energy boosting?"

The glare Korsak sends her only makes her grin widen. "Anything with milk that didn't come from a cow shouldn't unnecessarily be a part of someone's breakfast."

Laughing, she opens the door of her car and shoves their perp unceremoniously into the back seat. It's as she's straightening that her phone starts buzzing again.

"The captain need us?" Korsak asks, seeing her tug the phone from her jacket.

"God, let's hope not."

Maggie looks down at the phone's screen. It's flashing with a number not from her contacts, but a series of numbers she registers vaguely as one that belongs to the DEO.

It could be Alex. It could be anything. There are so many explanations than the scenarios flashing through her head.

But that doesn't stop the cold stab of fear gripping her heart as she answers.

"This is Sawyer… Wait, who is this-? - Winn?!-"

All those months ago, the halls of the DEO had seemed like a veritable maze. Now, she tears through the base like a tornado, conscious of only one thing:

Get to Alex.

The doors to the main medical room slam open as she enters, banging harshly against the wall. It's the corresponding flinch from the person sitting on the closest bed that first catches Maggie's attention. "Kara?"

The Kryptonian is sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing the same clothes Maggie had seen her in earlier that morning. But they're soot-stained and ruined now and her skin's several shades paler than her usual golden glow. She's blinking dazedly against what Maggie immediately recognizes as the sunlamps but still, predictably, in light of all this, tries to reassure her. "I'm okay. I'm okay, I'm sorry, I'm okay. Alex-" she nods to somewhere at Maggie's back, "just go see Alex."

She doesn't need any more persuading. Spinning around, Maggie briefly registers J'onn's presence by the far wall, surveying the room with a gaze that seems lidded with the weight of the entire world, before she sees Alex.

And it feels like the earth tilts under her feet.

Hours ago- she'd seen Alex just hours ago.

Her girlfriend's sitting immobile on another medical bed, looking small, pale and utterly drained. Her left leg rests on top of the blankets, bandages wrapped securely around her thigh, and there's a needle pressing into her elbow delivering a three-quarter's full bag of blood.

A press release. They'd just gone Kara's press release. When had there been the opportunity for something to go so drastically wrong?

"Alex?!"

In an instant, she crosses the room, cupping Alex's chin with her hand and presses their foreheads together. For a second- just a second- Maggie lets herself revel in the simple peace that comes with having Alex this close, with the knowledge that the girl she loves is just in front of her.

Reality jerks her back with a sharp jolt.

She leans backwards. "What the hell happened?" she turns back to Kara, "Winn said something had gone wrong, that something was wrong with Alex. What happened?!"

It's Alex's gentle hand on her cheek that brings her back. "Shh, Mags, look at me."

She does, looking over her girlfriend's form with a clinical- and undeniably panicked- eye. Maggie's gaze immediately locks onto Alex's leg, to the thick bandages that hide what's obviously a grievous injury. "Your leg- you're hurt-"

"It's healing," Alex cuts across immediately.

Maggie blinks. "What do you mean it's 'healing'?"

Alex hesitates, her eyes heavy with words left unsaid. Maggie looks instead to the others in the room, to Kara and J'onn.

"What happened?"

It's not an easy story to hear. Every sentence that Alex and Kara describe is harder to hear past the buzzing in her ears and the furious pulsing of her heart. Alex's own heartrate notable increases as she explains how the Kryptonite in the elevator had been the first indication that K'Nex had been far from innocent, and Kara's voice stutters slightly as she described what happened in the instants after Alex injected herself with the syringe.

It's obvious that they both carry guilt for what happened, but to Maggie, there's only two names that stand out in sharp relief.

Christian and Carter Montgomery.

Oh, they were dead men.

Maggie turns to J'onn. "Where are they?

He understands her thoughts immediately. "We don't know. They disappeared immediately before the lab exploded," his eyes take on a slight edge, immediately betraying his anger, "but the entire of the DEO's resources is currently dedicated towards the search. We'll find them."

It's not near enough to calm Maggie's fury, but it's enough to temporarily quiet it. After all, this was the DEO, and J'onn was the last Red Martian. Surely, with those two factors, they'd be guaranteed to succeed?

"They knew about Kryptonite," Kara suddenly says from her bed.

"Not only did they know about it," Alex adds, "they had it. Hidden in their walls and floors. And they knew it would affect you."

"It's been a long time since I've felt Kryptonite that strong," Kara looks down at her hands, rubbing and twisting them together like that will rid herself of the green crystal's effects. "I felt like my skin was burning, like I could've breathe."

There's a tense silence then, before J'onn says steadily, "the DEO has taken control of K'Nex's lab for the moment. We'll have a proper analysis of the scene in a short time. Maybe it'll provide some answers for whatever was in that syringe you injected yourself with."

Maggie frowns. "But I thought the whole thing blew up, how could there possibly be anything left?"

There's just the barest hint of desperation in Maggie's words, something that horrifies her.

"Hey," Alex says, catching Maggie's hand in her own and squeezing it tightly, "it'll be fine. We'll figure it out. We'll get through it."

It's her typical answer; a furious denial to give up, a blatant disregard for the dismal facts they've been presented with.

It's impossible not to disagree with her words, while those eyes look up at her with such fierce determination. It's impossible. But there's also a part of her mind that sees instead the absolute panic Alex is trying desperately to hide, or the way the muscles in her leg keep noticeably tensing and relaxing, like her body hasn't quite come to terms with the injury it suffered or the unnatural way it's healing.

Maggie wants to let Alex's words reassure her. But it's too hard, too unrealistic.

And for the first time since she's known Alex, there's a part of Maggie that doesn't believe her.)

She's thrust into wakefulness an indeterminate amount of time later by the sound of frantic knocking at the door.

Maggie jerks upwards, heart thundering in her ears and her hand reaching for the gun she'd thrown aside with her jacket. It's probably just one of the neighbours, or possibly even Winn or James. But after the entirety of her adult career seeing the worst that humanity had to show and the stress of the past few weeks, Maggie's approaches the door with her finger hovering over the trigger.

And it's not Winn or James that's outside; it's not anyone that she expected.

"Detective Sawyer?" the figure says, surprise colouring her voice, caution now in her words. "I- I didn't think you'd be here."

Maggie can't answer, is still struggling to find words through the haze between sleep and full alertness.

God, maybe she's still asleep. A dream would be far more explainable than this.

The woman runs a hand through her dark hair, the fair number of flyway's a far cry from her normal sleek appearance, and evidence enough of just how many times this action has potentially been repeated.

"Please," Lena Luthor says, "Look, I know I'm the last person you want to see, but I need to talk to Alex. I've made a huge mistake."

Alrighty then, I think I've been working and sitting on this chapter for too long now, I can't deal with it anymore. Bleh, I'm sorry, I hope it was kinda worth the wait.

On another note, how's everyone liking Season 3 so far? I gotta say, I'm loving all the Danvers sisters moments. They're so freakin cute so far.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, once again, you're amazing and all the kind words and comments mean the world.

-F