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As soon as she steps into the apartment, she knows something is wrong.
She's not one to judge; she does her fair share of drinking to forget or cope or whatever it is she tells herself. It's something she and Alex, unfortunately, have in common.
But when she's searching for Alex's eyes, and the only thing Alex can do is pour another glass - Maggie's sure it's not a second glass, probably not even a third - she reaches out. The amber liquid sloshes messily inside the bottle when Maggie halts Alex's movement, and the defeated sigh her girlfriend releases just confirms Maggie's suspicions.
Alex fights back. Alex takes what she wants. And right now, Alex isn't doing either.
She doesn't want to push Alex to talk, but Maggie can't even count the number of times she wishes she'd had someone she trusted enough to talk to in difficult moments like this. But when she tilts Alex's chin up to meet her gaze and asks what happened, she regrets it.
Because nothing, nothing, should make Alex Danvers's face do that.
Maggie doesn't think then, she just does and she can feel just how tense Alex is when she takes her in her arms.
For a moment, Alex doesn't breathe. The column of her spine is rigid and stiff under the stroke of Maggie's palm and Maggie can feel Alex's jaw clenching in the cradle of her hand.
But then the tension is broken all at once when Alex goes to fill her lungs and only makes it half way before her breath stutters out in a ragged sob.
Alex's fingers dig into her ribs when she grabs a fistful of Maggie's shirt and Maggie grieves for her in that moment because, oh, she's been there. She knows what it's like to feel like you have to keep it inside, to feel like you can't even breathe without everything tumbling out. And she gets it. She understands why Alex couldn't tell her what happened with her dad.
Because Alex couldn't talk at all.
She wants to know what happened because whatever it was, someone is going to answer for this. But right now, in this moment, her only concern is Alex.
She doesn't know exactly how long she's been standing between Alex's legs, holding her, rocking her, whispering whatever she can think of that will let Alex know that she understands and she won't let go. But soon enough, Alex's sobs are fewer and farther between and her ribs are expanding against Maggie's stomach and Maggie rubs at her back as she draws oxygen back into her lungs, jagged but slowing, steadying.
Maggie doesn't want to let her go, but she wants Alex to be able to see her, not just feel her. Unspoken communication is a staple of their relationship and Maggie hopes that Alex will be able to see something in her eyes that she doesn't really know how to articulate with words.
Both of her hands cup Alex's jaw when she pulls back, just slightly, and Alex unclenches her fist from Maggie's shirt and lets her.
"Hey," Maggie whispers, and she tries to keep her face neutral because looking at Alex, seeing the devastation so clearly shining in her eyes, Maggie could just as easily crumble alongside her.
The room is silent as Alex looks at her, doesn't say anything but her eyes say everything and Maggie swipes at the mascara-stained tear tracks under her eyes with the pads of her thumbs. She's almost positive Alex didn't clean up after work, probably walked straight from the door to the bottle to her seat at the counter.
"Come on," Maggie urges gently, cupping Alex's elbows as she guides her to stand. Alex is a little unsteady on her feet when Maggie turns them in the direction of the bathroom, and Maggie knows all too well how the sloshy combination of alcohol and tears makes it difficult to navigate the world around you.
Alex's fingers grasp at Maggie's biceps as they walk, sliding down her arms to take her hands when Maggie guides Alex to sit on the closed toilet seat when they reach the bathroom. Her thumbs stroke across Alex's knuckles in apology as she releases her hands in favor of reaching for a washcloth. Maggie moves to step in front of the sink to wet the rag, but Alex's fingers curl behind her knees, keeping Maggie rooted between her spread legs with the soft stroke of her thumbs.
Luckily the bathroom is small and Maggie makes do. The running of the faucet is a pleasant white noise as Maggie cups Alex's cheek, guiding the washcloth under one eye and then the other, heart fluttering along with Alex's eyelids as they slide closed. She rinses the washcloth and makes quick work of the rest of Alex's face.
The room goes silent as Maggie twists off the faucet and Alex's forehead is warm under her lips when she presses a lingering kiss to the crease between her eyebrows.
Alex's fingertips dig into the sensitive skin behind her knees and Maggie threads her fingers through Alex's hair, stroking lightly as she presses her lips to her eyebrow, her temple, before encouraging her to stand with a whispered up.
They make their way to the closet, carefully navigating the stairs by the bed, and Maggie helps Alex change into something to sleep in as she slips out of her own clothes and into a borrowed t-shirt.
The comforter is cool and soft in her grasp as Maggie pulls back the covers. It's hard to believe they were here just this morning, making the bed together and laughing, Alex's happiness at having Jeremiah home and safe contagious, infusing the whole apartment.
Maggie crawls into bed first, scooting towards the other side but not too far. She pats the space next to her as she rearranges the pillows and Alex crawls in after her. Alex's hand slides across her abdomen and Maggie sighs as the weight of her girlfriend drapes along her right side, head pillowed on Maggie's bicep and shoulder.
Alex's breath washes along her collarbone and Maggie turns to rest her lips at Alex's hairline. Not a kiss, just there and Alex turns further into Maggie's neck, her nose brushing the column of Maggie's throat.
"I let him go."
Maggie isn't sure how long they've been lying in silence before Alex speaks, but she keeps up the the soothing stroke of her hands, one in Alex's hair and one along her forearm where it's slung across Maggie's torso.
"He told me he would understand if I killed him. If it was anyone else I would have but-"
"He's your dad," Maggie supplies when Alex breaks off, breath hissing between her teeth and getting caught in her chest. "You just got him back."
Alex whimpers at her neck and Maggie holds tighter, tries to keep the pieces of her girlfriend together when she knows Alex feels like she's coming apart at the seams.
"He lied to me. He lied to all of us and Kara tried to tell me. She told me we owed it to ourselves to be sure but I was- oh, god, and I yelled at her. I told her she wasn't part of the family and-"
"Shh. Alex, honey, breathe," Maggie encourages, cutting off Alex's rambling. Her words aren't quite slurred but they're not completely enunciated either and Maggie thinks she was probably right about the number of drinks Alex had being somewhere beyond two or three. Her chest aches anew at the through and she holds tight as Alex crumples farther into her chest.
The sobs aren't raw and rough like before, but Maggie can feel the tears soaking the shirt at her chest. Her neck feels sticky and hot, but she keeps Alex tucked under her chin, next to her heart where she belongs.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me. To anyone. Kara loves you and she'll understand."
"It wasn't...it was terrible, Maggie. What I said." Alex's voice doesn't break this time and she sounds almost resigned.
"It probably won't be the last terrible thing you say to her." The huff of air Alex releases is definitely not a laugh, but Maggie counts it as a victory all the same. "She's your sister."
The room is silent for a minute, the glow from the fireplace she forgot to switch off casting a warmth across the entire space.
Alex's breath evens out slightly, longer and slower instead of short and gasping. Maggie knows Alex probably has more she wants to say, but her body is heavy with exhaustion at Maggie's side.
"Sleep now. You're ok," Maggie whispers as she lets her own eyes slide closed, Alex's heart beating against her ribcage, right next to her own.