722. Chapter 722

She tells Alex she’s going to be with James and Winn; she tells James and Winn she’s going to be with Alex.

And everyone jokes that Kara is a terrible liar.

Flying places on busses and totally being from this planet, and all that.

But really, Kara is too good at lying.

Kara’s lying, really, makes Alex’s look amateurish.

Because she’s lying with her body every time she hugs someone without crushing their bones; she’s lying every time she pretends that she doesn’t understand something about Earth science, because really, it was all pretty damn rudimentary; and she’s kind to a fault, she truly is. That part isn’t a lie.

But it’s a lie when she pretends that she’s all sunshine and rainbows even though every morning – every. single. morning. – she wakes up wondering why the gravity feels all wrong until she remembers that her entire planet, her entire people, are just… gone.

So although her friends tease her about being a terrible liar – and, in many respects, they’re right, and she laughs right along with them – she’s also a spectacular one, when the lies are about her day-to-day survival.

And after he shows up again, it feels like a matter of life or death, to tell James and Winn that she’s with Alex, to tell Alex that she’s with James and Winn.

Because if she’s not alone, she’ll have to think. She’ll have to talk, and if she talks, she’ll cry; and if she cries, she’ll break, and she’s fairly convinced that she can’t survive another fracture like this.

And it’s not because she’d missed him, and because he’s with someone else now.

It’s because she’s too kind for him, too smart, too generous.

It’s because she can’t stop wondering if his new woman is as beaten down as she had been.

Which, of course, requires her to admit that she had been beaten down; that she’d let herself be beaten down, be diminished and gaslit and degraded and… abused.

And she’s not about to go there.

So she lies.

And they believe her, because she really is quite amazing at it.

They believe her, and Maggie would have too; if, that is, she hadn’t caught a glimpse of a streak of blonde flying past her window, her flight path erratic and shaky.

She sighs as she strides to her window and sticks her head out of it.

“Kara!” she shouts, knowing the superhero can hear her, even if she’s pretending she can’t. The blonde streak continues flying away, wobbling with what Maggie can only imagine are heavy sobs coming from deep in her chest.

She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “I just made pancakes!” she tries again, and this time, her future sister-in-law wavers to a stop.

Maggie smirks, satisfied, to herself before backing away from her window and setting back toward her kitchen. She doesn’t turn around when there’s a slight crash near the sill; Kara might be practically invincible, but damned if that means she’s not clumsy.

“Syrup, butter, or both?” Maggie asks, her attention on the spatula in her hand, deliberately not turning around, deliberately giving Kara whatever moments she needs to wipe her eyes, to arrange her face into her best image of composure.

Instead of answering, though, Kara asks a question of her own as she shuts Maggie’s window against the wind.

“Why are you making pancakes at night?”

Maggie grins, turning with the pan in one hand and spatula in the other.

“Night shift last night, far too much paperwork today. Seems like an appropriate excuse for breakfast for dinner.”

Kara collapses onto the couch as Maggie piles a plate high with pancakes and then sizzles more batter into the pan.

“You never need an excuse for breakfast,” Kara mumbles around a mouthful of pancakes.

Maggie smiles but doesn’t say anything as she waits for the new batch to start bubbling on top, rummaging in the fridge for orange juice, syrup, and butter for her future sister-in-law, bringing them all to the coffee table.

She doesn’t ask why Kara isn’t with James and Winn. She doesn’t demand that Kara apologize for lying to her sister and her best friends. She just bends to kiss the top of her head briefly before shifting back into the kitchen to check if the pancakes are ready to flip yet.

They’re not, so she turns and leans back against the counter, watching Kara eat passively, quietly.

“You’ve been crying,” she offers as an opening, but the tone of her voice makes it clear that if Kara doesn’t want to talk, she won’t press it any farther.

Kara looks up and looks even more like a deer in the headlights than she does when someone talks about aliens.

Maggie stays quiet, keeps her face deliberately neutral. She waits, and for more than just the pancakes.

“Long day,” Kara finally says, setting the pancakes down on the table. Maggie nods as the batter starts to hiss, as she flips the pancakes, presses them down, and chews at the inside of her cheek.

Silence rises between the women as she finishes the batch, switches off the burner, slides them onto another plate, and crosses her studio to sit next to Kara.

“Your ex is back,” she observes, not bothering with a fork as she just treats the pancakes like finger food.

“Alex thinks it’s gross how you eat things plain.”

Maggie smiles. “Alex loves me.”

“She does,” Kara smiles back, until her smile trembles and becomes a sob.

It’s something Maggie was expecting, but it still breaks her heart.

She sets her half-eaten pancake down and hesitates with her arms spread open. Kara lets herself shift forward into them, and gratitude sweeps through Maggie.

“How do you do it? The two of you?” Kara wants to know, and though she doesn’t specify what she means, Maggie knows.

“I respect her. She respects me,” she says, keeping her voice deliberately soft, deliberately judgement-free.

“Apparently I don’t have any respect for myself,” Kara shivers slightly, and Maggie shakes her head.

“It’s not as simple as that, Little Danvers,” she swipes a slow tear off of Kara’s cheek.

“But it is,” Kara stiffens and backs away from Maggie’s arms. “I let myself stay in a relationship that… and even getting into it in the first place was… and now I have to see him at work, and watch people treating him like…”

“I can arrange to make the air toxic for him again. Lena would definitely be down,” Maggie offers, and Kara gives a weak laugh before that, too, transforms into a defeated sob.

“It’s embarrassing,” she chokes out. “I just feel so… stupid.” She’s gasping for breath now, and her face is burning bright red, part with shame, part with the effort of holding back a rush of tears.

Maggie shakes her head, but lets Kara keep control of the conversation. She needs control of… something.

“I’m Supergirl, for Rao’s sake. You know that concert at Ruby’s school we went to? All those little girls, dressed up like Supergirl? But if they knew how weak I really am… the things I let him do to me… I’m so stupid,” her voice squeaks and cracks on the word, and Maggie opens her arms again.

This time, Kara lets herself sink forward into them, the scent of Maggie’s skin mingling with a scent Kara knows to be her sister’s.

“You and Alex are so good to each other,” she sobs. “Don’t stop being good to each other, okay?”

“And if we weren’t? If I started treating Alex terribly?”

“You realize I’m Supergirl, right?” Kara sniffs, and Maggie smiles in relief at the bemused tone in Kara’s voice.

“Yes, and if I ever do treat Alex badly, I give you full permission to destroy me however you see fit. But that’s not my point. My point is, would it be Alex’s fault? If she still loved me?”

Kara sighs. “That’s not – “

“I know. I know it’s not the same, kid. Not at all. I’m just saying. Would it be her fault?”

“No – “

“Then why is it yours?”

Kara’s silent for so long Maggie starts to wonder if the analogy route was the wrong way to go; if appealing to Kara’s love for her sister wouldn’t help, would actually hurt things, would…

“Because I should know better. Because he was never any good to me, he was always manipulative and… and…”

“A gaslighting misogynist?” Maggie scrunches up her face with half of a smile, and Kara laughs wetly.

“Maggie, how did I…”

“He reminded you of home, Kara. He was a piece of what you lost. And even if he wasn’t, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to do. Get into your head, make you doubt what you thought you knew was real. That’s what abuse is, sweetie.”

Kara flinches at the word, and Maggie almost apologizes, but then Kara is nodding with tears leaking down her cheeks as she reaches for three pancakes.

She stacks them like a pancake sandwiched in pancake bread, and chomps down before offering Maggie a bite.

She’s never let anyone feed her except Alex, but she leans forward, opens wide, and takes a bite anyway.

They both giggle through full mouths.

“I like having a second sister,” Kara says after their laughter turns to tears and Maggie holds her steady.

“Should we call your original one, get her in one this wild pancake party?”

“Yes please,” Kara mumbles sheepishly.

“She won’t be angry,” Maggie reassures her. “She loves you, and she’ll understand. So will James and Winn.”

“Can… can we call them, too? And Lena? I… I want my family.”

“Of course, kid. Of course.”