Aaaalrighty, where to begin.
So, it's been 1 day less (lol, well done me) than 4 months since I've updated this story. That's a freakin third of a year that's gone way too fast, and that's a crazy amount of time to leave you guys hanging, so I apologize sincerely for that. I'm guessing I don't need to tell anyone how unpredictable and busy life can be, and sadly this story just got kinda pushed to the side.
That being said, it's about the longest chapter I've ever written, so at least there's that. It actually ends a whole lot earlier than I'd originally planned, cos it was just actually getting ridiculous to manage, but hey, small victories.
Thank you all so so much for all you super kind words & gentle prodding to get my lazy butt into motion.
On that note, shoutouts for KaraLena90, my infinitely awesome friend (also responsible for the amazingness that is "Small Problems of the Mind", which you should all really check out, if you already haven't :D)
Also, Fandomlove17, for helping me out when I need it. Hope this chapter was worth the wait, awesome girl!
Thank you all so so much for your continued support, I love you all xxx
(Oh, disclaimer, I don't know how 911 calls work- there's a slight spoiler for you all :p)
...
Chapter Seven:
Lena had heard about the illusive government agency known only as the DEO, mentioned in passing by some important official or theorized about on some illusive page on the darknet. She knew that they were in charge of protecting the community from alien threats, that Supergirl worked with them to achieve this.
But she never thought she'd ever find herself swept into their reach, much less walking through their main doors.
Oh, if Lillian could see her now.
Maggie moves with a frantic urgency. The instant her car is thrown into park, she's moving, across the underground carpark and towards the entrance. It's only as the myriad of guards- some, Lena notes with alarm, are sporting very recent-looking injuries, and all look exhausted- stop Lena from passing through very effectively with several loaded guns, that Maggie stops.
"She's with me," she tells them. They don't lower their weapons.
"All due respect, Sawyer," one rebuts. Several patches of his uniform are stained suspiciously dark, but he stands firm. "You don't really have the authority to decide who comes in and out of here."
"She's a Luthor," another one of them says, as if that explains everything. And Lena should be used to this, should expect the hatred and anger that that name provides. She'd learned to hide it well- after all, you didn't get as far as she had in the world of business without developing a seemingly imperious thick skin- but she'd never quite built up a tolerance to the people who spat her name like a curse.
It was Kara- Kara, with her impossibly bright eyes, a blue so deep and luminous they appeared to reflect the entirety of the galaxy- that had told her different.
"You shouldn't want the whole world to love you," she'd said one night, her gaze earnest and undeniable, "and you don't need it. All you need is a few good people."
"And do you? Believe me that is?"
Kara hadn't even hesitated. And maybe that was the greatest magic of all. "Of course I do."
A few good people, Lena muses, watching as Maggie's fists clench at her side, aren't actually as hard to find as she would've thought. Or maybe it was because they simply flocked to Kara's side, drawn to her undeniable presence.
"I don't have the time," Maggie grits out, "to deal with your macho bullshit. She's coming with me; either you deal with that, or you follow us, or go find the Director and whine to him about it. Do whatever, but we're leaving."
And with that, she grabs Lena by her shoulder, dragging her past the guards and towards a long, dark hallway. It's only as they're a few steps away that one of the guards yells out again, his words dripping with condescension.
"What the fuck are you even doing here, Sawyer? Now your girlfriend's gone ape-shit- don't you have your own job to be getting to?!"
Maggie doesn't even slow down, but her grip on Lena's arm tightens almost to the point of being painful. Lena doesn't offer any word in protest- she doesn't dare. She doesn't know enough to understand the man's words, and she's not entirely sure what to expect from this illusive government agency in the first place; maybe an army of agents wielding the most advanced weapons modern technology has to offer, maybe swarms of aliens roaming freely.
Maybe, she thinks, her heart thumping, Supergirl, striding through the hallways with that endless confidence.
Whatever she expects, it's certainly not the sight of the atrium in ruins.
Some attempt has obviously been made to clear some of the debris, but the large space remains still horribly damaged. The blast zone was relatively contained though, she notes, seeing the limited space the worst of the damage spreads to. Still though, if anyone was close to its origin point…
She doesn't realize she's frozen in place, staring wildly, until Maggie tugs on her arm again. The Detective is gentle this time though, and her eyes are filled with pitying understanding rather than anger. "Come on," she says, pulling her towards a set of doors, "I need to find J'onn."
Deadly silence follows them, as oppressive and haunting as a dark cloud on the horizon. Lena finds her eyes slipping fluidly, scanning her new surroundings and the faces of the people Maggie drags her past- the few of them there are. And while the only horrible damage seems to be that initial entrance area, each agent is dead-eyed and exhausted, like the very soul has been sucked out of them.
It's… surprising, to say the least. What could've possibly happened that caused the damage in the atrium, and these subsequent reactions?
Maggie doesn't hesitate in her movements. With a single-minded purpose, she leads Lena down a long, straight hallway, making a right, then pushing through a set of doors. And it's only then- as she nearly runs them right into the imposing figure Lena recognizes instantly- with a sudden surge of panic- as Hank Henshaw.
"Oh shit," she says, trying to pull away from Maggie's grip. He can't be here, he works for Lillian, what the hell is going on? Doesn't Maggie know?
Confusion breaks through her panic a moment later, when Henshaw turns to her and she sees that the side of his face is not the horrible glowing, mechanic blue that sometimes haunts her dreams, but normal skin.
Her confusion deepens when Maggie addresses him.
"J'onn- where is she? Is Alex alright?" There's a furious kind of panic in her voice, bordering on desperation, but still he seems unable to form an answer. He- J'onn?- tilts his head slightly, stepping aside to her let go past, but puts a hand out to stop Lena from following. And this time, Maggie doesn't turn back to protest; she's too busy, Lena sees, in racing over to the side of the person lying in the hospital bed. Pale and limp, it takes Lena far too long to recognize that it's Alex.
A gasp tears itself from her lips, despite herself, and all she can do is stare.
Because everything just became that much more real.
Alex's face- the only bit of skin Lena could actually see past the veritable hoard of machines and monitors surrounding her bed- was past pale, instead appearing this horrible, unhealthy grey. Her chest rises and falls weakly, assisted practically entirely, it seems, by the respirator to her left.
Maggie stumbles towards the bed, gripping the mattress like it's the only thing holding her up. And in that furious grip, Lena can see just how much she wants to grab onto Alex's hand, to feel her skin against her own, to gain reassurance in something other than the monitors that her girlfriend is, at least for the moment, still fighting. But Lena can also see, with the battle of emotions playing out on her face, that Maggie knows she can't, that she feels like she can't even touch her.
It's almost enough to make Lena want to throw herself on the ground, to beg forgiveness from everyone for all her mistakes. But if there's one good thing that her last name has taught her, it's that mere apologies don't fix anything. It was the funny contradiction she'd discovered about the modern world; what you said had the power to absolutely shatter a reputation, but when it came to building it back up again, well… that required something far more forceful.
She turns to J'onn, forcing steel into her posture and an impassiveness into her face, and while he raises an eyebrow at the coolness in her gaze, he says nothing- nothing, that is, except for a quiet, "Come with me."
J'onn calls for a war council.
At least, that's what it seems like to James. He's not an agent, he doesn't know the ins and outs, but he can recognize when a leader is gathering those close to him; the ones that can help move everything forward.
It does make him question why J'onn requested him to be here, but James doesn't voice his uncertainty. Not when Lena Luthor walks through the door, right after the director himself.
He's not the only one obviously surprised. Winn, where he sits, lets out a small noise of disbelief, gasping quietly, "oh um… okay then." Vasquez, on the other side of the table, merely narrows her eyes slightly. James simply finds himself staring, as J'onn gestures for her to sit in the chair immediately to his left. She does so immediately, folding herself down gracefully and leaning back and crossing her arms like this is just another one of her board meetings.
James prides himself though, in reading people, in studying other's emotions until they're as familiar as his own. Lena hides it well- which he understands, of course, because how else could anyone have been so successful in the face of the anger her very name incites?- but there's still something in her gaze that has him on edge. Not that he thinks it's a mistake that she's here, but it does make him wonder, exactly, why.
"Where's Maggie?" Winn asks.
J'onn falls into the chair at the top of the table with the exhaustion of a man who's seen this sort of situation far too many times. "With Alex," is all he says, and the silence afterwards is filled with the sound of, 'where else would she be?'
There's another woman here, on the other side of where Dr. Hamilton sits, but who James has never seen before. She's young, maybe about Kara's age, with blonde hair tumbling gently to her shoulders and glasses over her brown eyes which do nothing to take away from their obvious spark of intelligence. She leans forward. "I heard that her status deteriorated; is she alright?"
There's a flicker of satisfaction- childish, perhaps, but at this stage James will take humor from wherever he can get it- as he realizes that Alex's doctor isn't here, and instead it's J'onn that answers.
"She's stable for the moment."
"And Kara?" the woman asks again.
It's Hamilton that answers this time. "She's showing signs of improvement too. The levels of solar radiation in her cells is increasing and her wounds are showing minute signs of healing." She turns to J'onn. "I would still have preferred to have stayed with her though, to monitor her progress."
J'onn bows his head in acknowledgement. "I understand that, but I also need everyone here for this, everyone who had anything to do with Alex and Kara in the past few weeks."
That makes them all pause, with no small number of eyes flitting back to where Lena sits.
"Dr. Marris," J'onn continues, looking towards the blonde woman, "I'd like for you to start. In your position, you were in charge of Alex's evaluation when she first returned to work."
The woman- Dr. Marris, J'onn now knows- nods. But she says nothing else, her brown eyes slightly defiant.
J'onn obviously sees it too. "I'm not asking you to divulge exactly what she said. I respect that privacy. But we need to know what happened."
"What happened," she replies, "was that I did my job."
"I'm not questioning that."
"Aren't you?" Dr. Marris fires back, "that's why I'm here, right? You want to know at what point I screwed up; at what time I missed something I shouldn't've."
That's when Lena Luthor speaks up, for the first time since entering the room, and everyone's gaze immediately snaps back to her. "Oh, I think we can say we all missed a few things here, can't we?" she gives a small laugh that practically drips with a cool fury- though exactly where that anger is directed, James couldn't say. "If we're going to start attributing the blame to any one person, this might be a very long meeting."
The silence that follows is strung tight with tension.
"She was confused," Dr. Marris eventually says. "She didn't know what she wanted. I helped her."
(It's probably violating some form of principal, but at this point Dr. Sarah Marris honestly couldn't bring herself to care; after three years working as the head psychologist for the DEO, she reckoned she'd earnt the right to have an agent blacklist of sorts.
It was right there, taped to the inside cover of her notebook; a numbered list, with about ten names, ranging from the most to the least difficult.
Unsurprisingly, two of the top three names on that list had the last name Danvers.
It was a rare day when either of the sisters came to talk- or rather, were sent under numerous threats to talk- and Sarah always loved and dreaded these days with equal measure. Loved, because her day undoubtedly became just that much more interesting when the Danvers were involved; and dreaded, because God, did the mental cartwheels she had to do to get some answers leave her with the world's worst headache.
She owed a lot to them though, and not just because of their habits of saving the world from nasty, fiery deaths. The both of them, with their strength and undeniable resilience, were practically the physical embodiment of hope.
Hope that there was good in the world, that there were people willing to fight for it, that sometimes those people, against all odds, could actually win.
And yeah, the professional in her recognized how dangerous her reliance on them both was. Did she care?
Not in the fucking slightest.
The knock on her door is firm. Sarah yells out for Agent Danvers- because honestly, who else could it possibly be? Everyone avoided this area like the plague- to enter. Alex strides into the room like she's proving a point, but she moves immediately to grip the back of a chair, subconsciously placing it between them.
Sarah would laugh, if it wouldn't make her job that much more harder.
She smiles. "Agent Danvers, nice to see you. Anything to drink? Coffee?"
Alex shakes her head, scowling. "No, I don't need coffee. Because I've been sleeping fine."
Sarah snorts, despite herself. "Sometimes coffee is just coffee, Alex. I promise my job is usually more complex than carefully analyzing how much caffeine you load your system with."
The Agent rolls her eyes, but moves from behind the chair towards the middle of the room. Sarah watches as she looks around, raising an eyebrow at the doctor as if to ask, where do you want me? Sarah smiles, indicating to the large couch pushed against the far wall. Alex makes her way over to one end, sitting down and immediately crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring back at her defensively.
Dear God, she was always such a cliché.
"Alright then," with a drawn out sigh, Sarah throws herself down on the other side of the couch, taking a huge sip of her tea and scrolling through the file open on her tablet. It details Alex's medical report Hamilton had recently sent up, also attached is Kara's own report, written only days after what they're now apparently referring to as the K'Nex incident. It's not near the first time she's looked at it, but there's still so much she doesn't understand.
At the moment though, that doesn't worry her. She's not an agent; her responsibility doesn't lie in figuring out the nuances of a mission. Her job is to figure out exactly how much the shit they'd just been through had affected the DEO's agents. That didn't, as so many of them believed, involve trying to plow through their defences.
She believed in fixing, not breaking. She believed in helping people.
"This is your first day back, huh? Then let me be the last to say, welcome back."
"I'll be more grateful when I get to do my real job."
Sarah chuckles. "Yeah, I'll bet. Desk duty, that must be fun." Alex's glare is nothing sort of murderous, and this time Sarah really does laugh. "No use looking at me like that, babe. You want your job back? That's fine, let's make things simple."
Alex is staring at her intently, the sincerest form of disbelief and distrust creasing her brow. She doesn't interrupt though which, Sarah figures, should at least count for some form of progress.
"All I want, is for you to tell me whether you regret anything that happened down there in that lab."
Alex starts. "Why would I regret anything?" she fires back immediately.
"Oh, I don't know," Sarah rolls her eyes, "I like to think that humans generally have pretty good self-preservation instincts. Evolution's handy like that."
Alex scowls, shifting her gaze towards the floor. Sarah can't help but notice though that as she does, one of her hands drops to absently rub at her leg, like it pains her, despite the fact that if the medical evaluations are to be believed, that particular wound had healed at an unnatural rate. Physically, it should barely be bothering her anymore.
That's not what catches her attention though; rather, it's the fact that Alex seemingly hasn't even noticed her slip.
"I saved my sister," Alex says, "I saved us both. I'll never regret anything if that's what I achieve."
Sarah inclines her head. "Yeah, I can get that. I don't have a sister, but if I did I'd hope that we'd have a relationship like that. Where we'd do anything for each other."
"I'm not an idiot though, you think it's a bad thing."
She considers it. It's not in Sarah's nature to lie, but she's also not fool enough to be ignorant of the effect the entire truth would have on Alex at this point. She settles for somewhere in the middle. "I don't think it's something bad; I think it's brave. And in the end, who am I to demand something different. After all, don't we all fight for what we love?"
Alex's expression falls into one of impatient disbelief. "But?" she prompts.
Sarah grins slightly. "But- you're not a normal person, Alex. You're an incredible agent, who's put in years of hard work and sacrifice to get to the position you're in now. Two weeks ago, you were put in the horrible situation of Catch 22, and yes, because of the decision you made, you saved yourself and Kara. But I want to know if you recognize the consequences of that decision. I want to know that you realize the risks you took, the sacrifice you almost made."
Alex falls back against the couch, rubbing a hand across her eyes roughly. Another person may have seen that action as her trying to furiously wipe away her tears, but Sarah knows better; she's not close to crying, she's close to overwhelming frustration.
"Of course I understand," Alex finally says, "God, of course I get it. It's you who doesn't. You and J'onn… Maggie, she tries, but she still worries. And who am I to doubt that?" She fixes her gaze with Sarah's own, earnest and undeniable. "You think that Kara and I- our relationship- is a risk, because of what we'd sacrifice for each other. What I'm trying to say though, is what if it makes us stronger?")
The Doctor finishes her report with a frown, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. "Agent Danvers returned to my office twice over the following two weeks," she says. "She'd talk about her progress in the labs, about Supergirl, about the search for the Montgomery's. The last time I talked to her was four days ago."
"And in that time, you never cleared her for field duty. Did you at any point consider it?"
Dr. Marris hesitates, her brow furrowing. "Near the beginning, I almost did. But as time progressed it became more and more apparent that she'd been affected in more than just a physical way. And when Kara started coming to me with her own concerns…" she trails off, but her meaning is clear enough.
J'onn leans forward. "But did you see any indication that Alex was experiencing… something more than the trauma that could be expected from what happened that day. Anything unnatural or unexpected, did you see that?"
And at that, the Doctor's eyes sharpen. "Did you?"
(The DEO takes control of the site of the K'Nex lab. It takes J'onn several days to do so; after all, the local law enforcement is unsurprisingly reluctant to hand over an active crime scene to a federal department, despite the fact that they have no choice in the matter. And the presence of Kryptonite and the… unnatural effect the drug had had on Alex gives the DEO more than enough jurisdictional authority.
What this means, though, is that even two weeks after the initial incident, their labs are still only in the beginning stages of analyzing the evidence that was pulled from the wreckage of the explosion. It's a hell of a job, and with Alex out of the field, it's about to become her primary focus.
Taking a deep breath, Alex walks through the doors of her lab. The words of Dr. Sarah Marris are still ringing in her ears, but she draws comfort from the familiar setting and the presence of her sister at her side.
"Whoah," Kara says as she sees the sheer amount of containment boxes and evidence bags that are piled up around the room. "This is… busy…"
Picking up the closest bag and peering at the molten, blackened hunk within that may once have been a scale, Alex snorts. "It's a mess."
"It just needs a bit of hard work."
"No," comments one of the lab techs as he wheels past another trolley of charred evidence, "it's a mess."
Kara laughs, moving over to one of the few bare spots on a table and hoisting herself up onto it, swinging her legs gently. Despite Alex's earlier playful protests, she's managed to find one of the pastries she'd bought for her earlier and Kara happily bites into it, powdered sugar gently falling onto her skirt. Like this, it's hard to see her as anything except Alex's dorky little sister, despite the cape that hangs from her shoulders and the emblem on her chest. And the look she fixes Alex with, all blue eyes and kindness and concern; that's all Kara.
"How was the evaluation with Sarah?" she asks, her voice level and careful.
Alex shrugs. "As good as it was ever going to get. Don't get too close to that, by the way," she adds on sharply, as Kara moves to peer closer at some of the remains. "There was a hell of a lot of Kryptonite in that lab, I don't want to take the risk that the explosion dispersed some onto everything that was there."
Kara retracts her hand quickly.
Alex drops her bag, surveying the lab with a wary eye. "God, this is gonna take years."
"I can help."
Alex smiles. "Thanks, but don't you have to get back to work soon? I thought Snapper was on your back for not getting that story?"
Kara pulls a face, deflating slightly. "Yeah, I thought his face was gonna explode when I told him I didn't have anything from the press release. He took it a bit better though when he heard about the lab exploding and the Montgomery's disappearance. Guess that's a whole lot more of a story than he thought he was gonna get."
"He still doesn't know you were involved though, right?" Alex says sharply.
"No- no, of course not. He just thinks we left right after the conference ended," she pauses then, her forehead creasing as she frowns. "You didn't really answer my question, you know, about your evaluation…"
Alex lets out a breath, sharp between her teeth. Her instant reaction is to snap, but she somehow manages to reign it in. God though, why can't everyone just leave her alone? She's fine- what does she have to do to prove that? "It was good, Kara. Honestly."
The look in her sister's eyes tells her just how easily she sees through that, but she doesn't have a chance to say anything more, because then the sound of running footsteps echoes down the corridor. Alex and Kara both look quickly towards the door- just in time to see Winn fly past, skidding slightly on the floor, before turning back to gasp out, "Kara- there's a huge factory fire down by the docks, you-"
"I'm on it," she says instantly, dropping down to the floor. All at once, she becomes the superhero that's plastered on billboards, strength and power embodied. Her gaze is still slightly troubled though, and Kara takes a moment to look back at Alex. "You're alright here?" she asks.
The grimace Alex forces is easy, playful, relieved at the fact that their conversation had ended so quickly. "Like I have much choice."
Kara grins. "Be right back."
"Go back to Catco before you get fired, you lazy idiot!"
The sound of Kara's laugh echoes even after she's gone. Alex laughs too, but it falls flat in the suddenly empty space.
She looks around. This space is familiar to her- almost as familiar as her own apartment- but she can't help but feel… out of place. Normally, she'd put it down to a fierce desire to get back out in the field, but with her mind still churning with the words from her earlier psych eval, she's no longer entirely certain.
Either way, it's disconcerting. But, as she's doing with practically everything these days, she pushes it quickly to the back of her mind.
She'll get through this, she'll get her real job back, and then this can all be in the past.
It's three days before one of the lab assistants finds something that's even the slightest bit more interesting than a charred piece of crap, and it's not even Alex that finds it.
She's at her desk, adding to the logs what appears to be the thousandth piece of unidentifiable hunk of metal, when she hears one of the lab techs let out a noise of surprise. She looks up immediately. "What is it?"
The tech is relatively new; inexperienced, but observant. And for the better part of an hour she's been sorting the remnants into sections based on their Kryptonite radiation (on Alex's first day, she'd found that there was in fact Kryptonite present on almost everything, but in such small quantities that Kara barely felt it's immediate effects; they've been using it as a way to determine the material composition of whatever they're supposed to be analyzing).
So far, Andy had found little of any interest. Now though, in her thick protective gloves, she's holding what was once a rectangular box- and impossibly, there's still something in it.
"I have no idea," Andy answers appraisingly. She puts the box down on one of the tables and gently begins to lift out some of the items. Most were glass, and the majority of those had been smashed in the explosion, any contents long gone, but there's perhaps three or four small vials that still remain, and at the sight of them, Alex's insides twist.
They're small and innocuous in Andy's hands, but the sight still hits Alex with such a strong sense of déjà vu that she has to physically grip the back of a chair to keep from jerking backwards.
Surely… surely, there'd be no way…
The tech's eyes are glinting with excitement, overjoyed at the prospect that her monotonous work may have actually turned up sometime useful. "I could complete an analysis on them?" she asks, deferring to Alex's experience. "Run them through to establish their structure?"
But Alex's eyes are glued to the vials in the girl's hand, caught by the impossibility, and when she speaks her words are practically robotic. "No. First, compare them to one of the samples we've already got on file."
Andy's head tilts in confusion. "Something we've already got, Agent Danvers?"
She nods, moving back to her station as if the physical distance will calm her mind. "Compare them to my blood samples from the K'Nex mission."
The silence that follows rings heavy.
And when Andy comes back to her barely an hour later, the expression on her face- uncertainty mixed with no small amount of genuine fear, provides all the answers as well. "It's a match," the tech says apprehensively, "one of them is, at least. The other two seem to be some sort of variant. But the one-" she stops suddenly, clearing her throat and looking down to the ground. "That's an exact match for whatever was in your bloodstream after K'Nex."
Alex doesn't even look up. Forcing her heartbeat calm even as her fists clench, nails biting into the skin of her palm, she says quietly, "show them to Director Henshaw."
And then after, in the quiet of the lab, she tries to remember how to breathe.
Alex gets home late that night.
Maggie has closed all the curtains in the apartment, and the only light comes from the few lamps she'd switched on along the way, throwing everything into a soft golden glow and dramatic shadows.
The detective herself is on the couch, fast asleep under a blanket and with an open case file on the coffee table in front of her. It's obvious she's tried to stay awake to greet Alex, and it's familiar and kind enough that a swell of emotions threatens to overwhelm her.
Alex steps as softly as she can towards the kitchen, but Maggie still stirs, her eyes fluttering open. "Hey," she says softly as she sees Alex. Her voice still carries the remnants of sleep and her eyes blink blearily.
"Hey," Alex replies, "sorry I woke you."
Maggie stretches, groaning slightly as her joints pop. "Nah, better than me sleeping on this terrible couch all night."
The banter comes easily- so easy, compared to the mess that her day's been. "Don't blame my couch for your horrible posture."
Maggie grins, soft and tired. "How was your day?"
For a second, Alex entertains the notion of telling her the truth.
Dr. Marris is still keeping her out of the field, indefinitely.
One of the techs found a vial of the same drug she'd injected herself with.
How she feels like she's drowning in her own body, lost in its unfamiliarity.
And how there's a part of her that's craving something more, something that's missing.
"Yeah," she says, the taste of the lies bitter on her tongue, "nothing too interesting, you know?" She drops her jacket on the couch and makes her way to the kitchen. "I'm starving, have you eaten?")
She's slowed her breaths until they match Alex's- or rather, until they match the forced, timed ones the breathing machine dictates.
It's a measure of stability in the shit-storm her life has recently turned into. It's a small means of being able to feel just the tiniest bit connected to the woman she loves, while she's lying unconscious in the bed in front of her.
It's stupid as hell, and Maggie knows it. Doesn't mean she's going to move anytime soon, though.
Alex's hand is cold in her own, it's paleness a horrible, stark contrast to Maggie's skin. If she was a religious woman, this is the moment she'd be praying, begging some all-knowing God for the reassurance that everything would work out fine; that Alex and Kara would be alright, that their lives could return to normal. She'd decided a long time ago, though, that while she'd respect those that were assured by the presence of a higher power, that wasn't what Maggie would believe in.
She bows her head, breath stuttering slightly in her chest. "I'm sorry, Alex," she whispers, "I'm so, so sorry."
(One of the first things Maggie had learned about Alex, was that she was a creature of habit and routine. Unless it was one of their rare days off, or unless something bigger had cropped up, Alex would wake at 6.30 like clockwork, rolling out of bed and either running the 5-mile track through the park near her apartment, or on alternating days, heading to the DEO's gym for a circuit workout.
That was the routine Maggie had grown accustomed to; the small comforts familiarity bought in their otherwise unpredictable lives.
Which was why these subtle changes provided such a shock.
It started off small, with Alex staying at the DEO for longer than usual, claiming a massive backlog of work in the lab from all the incoming evidence from the K'Nex incident. And that's all well and good, especially considering that at the times they see each other, Kara also rambles on about the amount of work that's still going on to determine just what was going on in that lab.
But then Alex, slowly but surely, would stop talking about any of her work.
Initially, Maggie put it down to the frustration her girlfriend's obviously feeling at being kept out of the field. But while this scientific aspect is not the usual predominant one in Alex's job, it's still something she's passionate about. So the fact she doesn't come home wanting to tell Maggie something about it doesn't make too much sense with her either.
And now it's been a week; Maggie's sick of it.
She's sitting at the table, sipping slowly from a cup of coffee, when Alex stumbles through the door. She's breathing heavily and dripping with sweat, and the first thing she does is stride over to the fridge, grabbing the open bottle of orange juice and taking huge, gulping swallows. Drinking straight from the bottle is something Maggie would usually scold her for, but for now she stays silent, playing absently with the handle on her cup.
Eventually, Alex's heaving gulps stop, although her chest still jerks with harsh, uncontrollable breaths. And it's then, when she lowers the bottle from her lips and finally- finally- looks up and reveals eyes mirrored with some sort of frantic intensity, bordered by dark smudges of purple, that a cold weight settles deep in Maggie's heart.
"You're up early," Alex says finally. Maggie merely raises an eyebrow in return, until Alex mutters, "I couldn't sleep."
Maggie places her cup back on the table with an audible thud. It's barely even three quarters empty, but it feels like she can't stomach anything right now. "Did you even try?"
She asks despite the fact that she knows the answer, despite that she'd lain awake herself, listening as Alex tossed and turned and sighed out frustrated breaths as sleep once again evaded her. It had barely been an hour after they'd turned off the lights, when Alex had given up entirely, easing out of the bed and making her way towards the door, clicking it gently shut behind her. The thin line of light from beneath the door had mocked Maggie even as her own eyes reluctantly flickered shut. Her sleep had been uneasy though, full of dark, muted shapes and incomprehensible whispers.
And when she'd jerked awake, barely three hours later, Alex had been gone.
Alex's gaze has turned cold and defensive. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh what, like there's some other way to interpret that?!" It's funny, because this whole morning Maggie has been telling herself not to lose her temper, but when actually facing Alex she has little control.
Even funnier though, is that Alex is usually the opposite; all infuriatingly calm anger and controlled fury. There are notable exceptions to that, Maggie knows. The instances she's seen where Alex completely loses control are usually reserved to where Kara is in danger, or when Maggie mentions her father and his less-than-approving treatment towards her.
Being confronted with her out of character behavior is apparently another situation where Alex reacts in a less than ideal way.
"God," Alex snarls, slamming shut the fridge door, "you sound exactly like that psychiatrist."
"Oh really? Why do you think that is? It couldn't possibly be because we're both just trying to get you to talk, right?"
"I don't need to talk about anything."
Maggie stares at her, incredulous, before shaking her head. Abandoning her coffee altogether, she stands from the table and pushes past Alex towards the door. Her keys are in the pocket of the jacket hanging by the door, which is something at least; she doesn't think she could stand being in this apartment with Alex for the time it would take to gather all the things she needs for work. She hesitates at the door, turning back to where Alex stands, watching her. "When you figure out what the hell you want, Alex, maybe then you'll realise you do."
And with that, she leaves, without so much as another backward glance, taking a sick sort of satisfaction in the loud bang the door makes as it slams closed.
Her own words echo in her ears throughout the morning.
And with each ringing repeat, her guilt sets in further, a heavy weight on her mind.
She'd pushed too far. She'd been selfish. She hadn't even tried to understand.
Maybe there was a reason Alex didn't feel like she could talk to her, if this was how she immediately reacted.
Her partner, Korsak, where he sits at his desk, knows her well enough to recognize the look that'd been on her face as she'd walked in that morning and has been successfully diverting anyone away from her ever since. She'll thank him for that when she's able to focus on something more than the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness.
It's a slow day, at least. With no active cases, a mound of paperwork is their priority. It's monotonous work, enough so that her mind's free to overanalyze everything she'd said to Alex before.
It gets to just before midday, when she can't bear it any longer. Reaching into her jacket, she pulls out her phone and hits speed dial. Her heart beats solidly for one ring, a second, before the line's picked up and the intimately familiar voice filters through.
"Mags?" Alex's voice is soft, uncertain almost, and it makes Maggie's heart clench.
"Yeah, yeah it's me."
There's the sound of a stuttered breath being released, and when the DEO agent next speaks her words are rushed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're totally right."
"Alex-"
"No, it's all my fault. I've been distant lately, I know I have, it's just…" she draws off, and from the distant brushing noise Maggie knows she's run a frustrated hand through her hair, that she's fighting for words.
"Something's been bothering you," Maggie says first, "I know you. This is something big. And you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"
There's the distant sound of raised voices, but this time it's from Maggie's end. From the corner of her eye, she sees several heads turn towards the door, but the other detectives remain in their seats.
"Yeah," Alex replies, "course I know."
Her voice is still reluctant though, and Maggie speaks up again, turning in her seat slightly so that her face is hidden from where Korsak is watching her. "I'm always gonna be here for you, you don't have to worry bout that either."
"I know."
The yelling voice is getting closer now, enough so that she turns back to Korsak with raised eyebrows. He shrugs in response but moves to investigate. Maggie's attention returns to the call. "Then just talk to me," she implores.
There's a pause- a long one, punctuated only by Maggie's own heartbeat thrumming in her ears, until eventually comes the sound of Alex sighing heavily. "I… it's not really something you talk about over the phone, but… one of the techs found something last week, a vial-"
The rest of her girlfriend's sentence is lost in the events of the next few seconds.
When Maggie is asked to write an incident report on what happened in the next few moments, she'll break it down into scenes. This is how she does her job, by breaking down a complex situation into each individual, small instant. And from this- more often than not, at least- she's usually able to understand.
In the first moment, with her phone pressed against her ear, she hears the sound of the precinct doors slamming open.
In the next, turning towards this unexpected noise, she sees a man enter; tall, medium build, wearing a dark jacket and a cap pulled low over his face. Those details are pushed to the back of her mind, though, when the unmistakable shape of a gun catches the light.
And finally, there's the instant where she yells out a warning, dropping to the floor behind her desk- dropping her phone at the same time, but she'll realize that only in retrospect.
For now, there's only the gunshots and the bullets tearing their way through her precinct.)
The lump in the back of J'onn's throat closes up then, and he coughs slightly, shifting in his seat so that his body is coiled even tighter. "That's all Detective Sawyer has been able to tell me. She didn't know what happened immediately after that call ended; only what occurred next."
"But she was here though, right?" James asks. When J'onn shrugs slightly, the reporter turns to Winn. "Then can't you…" he trails off, wriggling his fingers towards the tablet in the tech's hands, "…do something, you know? Search up what happened on the cameras?"
Winn's fingers are already dancing across the screen. "I can try. It depends where she was, 'cos the DEO actually doesn't have CCTV footage for every room, but if she was in one of the communal areas…"
"Try her lab," J'onn says, "all of her time had been helping the team analyze what was bought in from K'Nex's lab. Chances are, she'd have been there."
Technically, none of the areas in the DEO are reserved for any one person, but somewhere along the way the lab far to the East of the building had been all but claimed by Alex. It wasn't the largest, or the most technically-equipped, but it was the only one that boasted a small, high window, allowing even the smallest bit of natural light to stream for Kara, when she undoubtedly bounded in to visit.
Winn makes a small noise of success. "And… that should be coming up on the screen now…"
(For a moment, the only thing Alex is aware of is the repetitive tone indicating the call's ended, and the horrible, echoing blast of gunshots.
She can't think.
She can't breathe.
She can't do anything except stare at some spot on the table and think about how with those, undeniable sounds, her entire world may've just fallen apart.
Common sense kicks in. With fumbling fingers, she tries to dial Maggie back, swearing when it goes immediately to voicemail. Her next instinct is to call Kara and here, the phone rings twice before Alex remembers. Kal-El had called for her this morning, asking for her help with a forest fire that was wrecking through Oregon, and J'onn had agreed to cover for her until the situation was dealt with. She couldn't call Kara; her sister would try and do something stupid like actually come help, when she was so clearly needed elsewhere.
Alex swears again, dialing another number instead.
The receiver picks up after just one ring. "911, what is your emergency?"
A gasping breath tears itself from Alex's lips. "Yes- I was just on the phone with my girlfriend, she's a detective with the NC Science Division. We were talking, then there were gunshots, then the call ended."
The responder's voice is ridiculously calm and collected. "Okay. And you think she was at the precinct?"
She has to reign in the urge to scream bloody murder at this person because, dear god, didn't they understand how urgent the situation was?! "Yes! Yes, she was at her precinct. She was doing paperwork."
"Okay," the distant sound of a keyboard tapping filters through the phone, "I've alerted all personnel in the area, they'll go assess what the situation is. Miss, you need to stay where you are-"
"Agent," Alex cuts in, "Agent Danvers, DEO, and like hell am I staying here."
She hangs up the phone. The calmness of the lab around her is a sharp contrast to her maelstrom of emotions. Through the glass doors, she can see the other lab techs carrying on with their work, oblivious to the chaos that's just hit her. She stares, struck by the impossible notion that their lives could go on so smoothly when hers may have just come to pieces.
Shaking her head, Alex forces herself to focus. Maggie's precinct is roughly fifteen minutes away; J'onn and Dr. Marris may be keeping her out of the field, but she can still help- she has to help; it's Maggie's life potentially on the line.
She stands quickly, reaching for her jacket with her keys, and makes it all of three steps towards the door when the dizziness catches up to her, black spots flickering at the edges of her vision. "Shit," she breathes, a hand coming up to grip her forehead. "Shit, shit, not now." She stumbles, reaching out instinctively for the table to steady herself. It's seemingly miles away though, and as her fingers brush against it, she falls heavily to the ground.
Exhaustion pulls at her, a sort of bone-deep weariness the likes of which she's never felt before. Her heart beats solidly in her ears, too fast and too loud and God, this can't be happening right now. She needs to get to Maggie. She needs to help.
But the feelings she's desperately been trying to shove away have returned with a vengeance. And-
Her gaze falls on the small box sitting on the table. The one they'd set aside, waiting for the chem lab to deal with.
All of a sudden, it's all she can think about. The rest of the world falls away as she remembers the strength flooding through her veins, such a far cry from the absolute wreck she is now.
She's no use to Maggie like this. She can't help. She can't do anything without…
Without-
She looks up slowly.
There's a voice in her head that is telling her what a horrible, terrible, absolutely stupid idea this is. But there's also another voice now, softer and calmer, and so infinitely more powerful, more focused and tempting, always tempting.
She can't save Maggie like this- with this pathetic, weak strength. If she wants to help, she needs something else.
It's so simple, like she'd told Dr. Marris a few days earlier. When it came to the people she loved, she'd do anything- for Maggie, she'd do anything.
And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, the slight sting of something that feels oddly like betrayal- like this is wrong, like she's using Maggie's name as a curse- will be lessened.
And as her fingers close around the vial, it's not with a feeling of shame. It's relief.)
Consciousness isn't something she's ever had to fight for.
But this…
Every flicker of her eyes is a struggle, every forced breath tears itself from her throat.
It's not… she doesn't know… Rao, the last thing she remembers…
Light isn't something that usually hurts her either, usually it's something she seeks out, is drawn to, looking towards it's warmth and brightness. But this light hit hers like a bullet, like Kryptonite, burying itself deep in her brain. She wants to squirm against its harshness, to cry out. But something is still holding her down, a darkness that weighs deep against her soul.
Still though, she struggles against it. Because there's something coming alive now, a niggling little reminder that there's just… something happening. Something important. Something she should be helping with.
Consciousness isn't something she's ever had to fight for, but she fights anyway.
I'm missing Kara- is anyone else missing Kara?
Thaaaank you all for reading, I hope it kinda lived up to the wait. If you wouldn't mind leaving a review letting me know what you thought, that'd be amazing.
Hope everything's going well for everyone :)
-F