339. Chapter 339
“I wanted to,” she’d half choked out, half snapped. Wanted to tell her. About the cheating.
And she meant it.
Sort of.
She’d wanted to tell her because Alex had said she didn’t want there to be any secrets between them.
Secrets.
Ha.
Secrets, like Maggie’s father. Like cheating on Emily.
Like the senior guys on the football field when she was a freshmen – because she was fourteen, she was a freshman, and a tiny one at that.
Like getting spit at in the street.
Like her depression.
Like her anxiety.
Like her tendency to bottle everything up until she just bursts.
Sometimes – well, once – by cheating.
Usually – much more than once – by punching, by drinking, by punishing herself, by pushing people away (hence the cheating).
She’d wanted to tell her.
But telling her would be a can of worms, a bombshell of damage, that she’s terrified will make Alex run. Will make Alex look at her like…
Will make Alex lose that spark in her eye, that smile, that softness. For her.
But when Alex shows up at her door – “Maggie, come on, I know you’re home” – Maggie has to text her instead of call out to her, because she can’t open her mouth right now. Doesn’t have the energy for it.
Barely has the energy to move her fingers over her phone’s screen.
Come in. I gave you the key for a reason.
Alex is in faster than Maggie even thought the text would send, and her eyes are swooping over Maggie’s body, scanning for damage, for injuries, for pain.
But it’s all inside.
“Maggie, what happened? You weren’t answering your texts, your captain said you called in sick but you weren’t sick this morning – “
Maggie just looks up and Maggie just stares, and tries not to let her chin tense, her lip wobble. But they do.
“Can I touch you?” Alex is asking, because Alex doesn’t miss a thing.
Maggie nods and she sighs with unexpected relief when suddenly she’s enveloped in Alex’s arms, when suddenly she’s gripping at her like she’ll drown if she lets go, and she will, she will, she will.
“I just hate it sometimes, Alex,” Maggie chokes, hating herself for her weakness, for her whining, for her patheticness.
“Hate what, Maggie?” Alex asks, trying to pull back so she can look at Maggie’s face, but Maggie doesn’t let her, because she can’t see those perfect eyes, that perfect face, right now, because seeing would mean Alex seeing her, and she is messy and she is a mess and she is damaged and she is damage itself.
“Life,” Maggie chokes, and she feels Alex tense.
She braces for goodbye, she braces for ableist shaming, she braces for this is too much, you’re too much, you’re not worth it, you’re not worth anything.
But she should know Alex better, because Alex just hugs her closer.
Alex just turns her face to kiss her temple. Alex just strokes her hair and whispers sweet nothings, sweet everythings, into her ear as she starts to shake, as she starts to break, as she starts to let the bottle burst through her tear ducts, through her chest wracking, through her hands grabbing, holding, needing.
“Did something happen? Or does this… do you get this feeling a lot?”
Maggie’s stomach churns, because she knows what Alex is asking.
Did something happen, or are you crazy?
“I’m not crazy,” she defends against an attack that isn’t there, and she feels Alex shake her head, and Alex succeeds in pulling back this time, in taking Maggie’s face between her hands and making sure she’s looking into Alex’s warm, warm eyes.
“Depression isn’t crazy, Maggie. Or whatever word fits for you. And hell, if anyone has a monopoly on crazy in this relationship, it’s me. You should see my rap sheet with the DEO shrink.”
“Psychiatrists don’t have… rap sheets, Alex, that’s not… how it works.”
“But it made you smile.”
“Nerd.”
“Shrink says I have BPD. And PTSD. All the acronyms. Kara has a few, too, but those are for her to tell you about if she wants – my point is, I get it, Maggie. I hate life so much sometimes I just… were you afraid? To tell me?”
Maggie sniffs and lifts her hand to her face, but Alex stops her and wipes her nose with her own sleeve, and Maggie has never been so moved.
“Well you know how much I love talking about myself, Danvers.”
“Maggie, I meant what I said. I’m here to help you heal. Even if there are things you can’t heal from. Even if there are things you’re always gonna to experience. Okay?”
“But why? I… I have zero emotional intelligence and I attach super quickly – hell, if I ever went to therapy they’d probably knock me with a BPD diagnosis of my own – and I do stupid things like cheat and lie about my parents and how do you know, Alex? That I won’t cheat on you after five years? Because you want to take the next steps with me, because I can’t handle it and I bottle things up and I lash out because I don’t know how else to end things, how else to destroy everything? Because that’s what I do, Alex. I destroy things. People. I destroy people.”
Alex strokes her hair and she takes a long, quiet breath, and she kisses her temple and she pulls her back into a soft, passionate hug.
“I don’t know, Maggie. I don’t know that you won’t cheat on me after five years because I want to take the next step with you. But I do know that we’ve taken a lot of steps already, and you’ve already stopped leaving the house and going to the couch when you need to walk away. And I know that you’re wrong. About yourself. You don’t destroy things, Maggie. You maybe don’t always make the best decisions, but you know what I see? I see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen trying so hard to navigate so much pain. And sometimes, you’re gonna make mistakes. I will, too. You’re human, Maggie. And I love you for it. I love you for how human you remind me that I am. Because I forget, too. So maybe… maybe we can remind each other?”
“You… love me?”
It’s Maggie that’s pulling back so they can make eye contact now, Maggie with the wide eyes and stilled breath, Maggie framing Alex’s face with trembling hands.
“Yeah, Sawyer. I love you. I’m soft on you. That okay with you?”
“Only if it’s okay that I love you back.”
“That’s more than okay, Maggie. So much more than okay. And you’re gonna be, too. I promise.”