374. Chapter 374

She swears she’s fine.

She swears it wasn’t that big a deal anyway.

She swears that she doesn’t need any time off, that she doesn’t need any special attention, because she’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine.

Kara knows better.

Maggie knows better.

So neither of them let her sleep alone.

And, truth be told, neither of them can sleep without her, anyway.

Maggie’s not sleeping much, period.

Even with Alex in her arms, even with Kara on the other side of the bed, on the other side of Alex.

Kara can tell because every night, she can see the faint glint that is the nightlight – all three of them need a nightlight, now – reflecting off of Maggie’s open eyes, staring up at Alex’s face with her head on Alex’s chest.

Feeling her heartbeat. Listening to her heartbeat.

Because she can’t hear it like Kara can unless she puts her head on Alex’s chest.

Alex’s heartbeat is the only rhythm that can coax Maggie to sleep. Sometimes.

Kara knows because she isn’t sleeping much herself.

But it’s a little easier on her body than it is on Maggie’s.

Yellow sun and all.

So one night, when Maggie’s slipped off of Alex’s chest, completely unconscious in what Kara estimates to be the first solid sleep she’s had in upwards of a week, Kara is awake and Maggie isn’t when Alex twitches.

When Alex twitches and when Alex murmurs and when Alex’s smooth, deep breaths become ragged, pained gasps.

“Alex,” Kara whispers, grabbing her trembling shoulders and trying to rouse her out of her nightmare. Out of her hell. “Alex.”

Alex’s eyes shoot open before’s fully conscious, and for a moment, she’s gasping for that last centimeter of air; for a moment, she’s not in her bedroom, she’s hanging onto that fence, she’s breathing what can’t be her last breath, but what will be, will be, because she knows Maggie and Kara are coming for her, but she knows they’re coming too late, and god she doesn’t want them to have to see her dead, not like this, not like this, and god she doesn’t want to be dead, there’s too much more to do, and god this hurts, why didn’t anyone tell her how much dying would fucking hurt –

“Alex.”

“Kara?” she asks, because she really doesn’t know, because the last time she heard Kara’s voice, she couldn’t see her. The last time she heard Kara’s voice, that tank was filling with water.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me, hey. You’re okay, Alex, you were dreaming.”

She looks around wildly, around her bedroom, down to her other side at Maggie’s sleeping form, back up to Kara’s sad, sad eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, still trying to catch her breath, but Kara just strokes her hair and shakes her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Alex.” Her voice is soft and her voice is home, and Alex grabs hold of her hands because she and Maggie did get there in time, they did, they did, they did.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kara asks, and for a brief, brief moment, Alex feels like she did when she was coming out. How long ago was that? Her brain still feels foggy and her lungs still feel like they’re on fire.

Alex gestures Kara toward her, back to laying down inside of leaning up on her elbow, and Kara takes her fully into her arms.

Like they did when they were kids, and Kara would have nightmares about Krypton. About her parents. About fire and about explosions and about that random kid she studied with as a small child that she never thinks about, but who is, like everyone else she’d ever known, dead.

Like they did when they were kids, except the nightmare is Alex’s now, and Kara is holding Alex instead of the other way around.

Either way, they fit perfectly together.

Kara kisses her hair and hears Alex’s heartbeat calm. Only slightly, but that’s something.

“Have I said thank you enough?” Alex whispers, and Kara furrows her brow.

“Alex, you don’t have anything to – “

“No, I mean, I would die for you over and over and over again, Kara, that’s not a problem, I just… I’d rather live for you. Thank you for making sure I can.”

Kara swallows and her eyes burn and she pulls Alex even closer to her.

“I don’t know how I’d ever live with myself if we didn’t get to you in time.”

Alex tilts her head back so she can look up into Kara’s eyes. “You would be fine, Kara. You would keep being Kara Danvers, and you would keep being Supergirl, and you would keep being the hero that inspires people and saves people and – “ Her voice breaks, and Kara’s chest racks with a single sob.

“I can’t lose you, Alex.”

“You won’t.”

“I almost did.”

“Hey, hey… I’m right here.”

Kara scoffs and dries her tears with hands that are infinitely less gentle than they are when they brush away her sister’s tears.

“No, you had a nightmare, Alex, I’m supposed to be comforting you – “

“How about we can comfort each other?”

Kara smiles softly, and she sighs, and she clings to her sister because she’s safe, safe, safe. Alive. Here.