She's going to be fine.

And maybe that throws Maggie more than anything else. That the blistering, red skin tightening on her wrists and ankles will fade and likely not even scar. That the headache, the one that's only slightly bothersome now, will eventually dissipate. That the burn in her throat and the emptiness in her stomach are already fixing itself with the various tubes and needles.

In days rather than weeks, it'll be like it never happened.

Twelve days of captivity, will be like it never happened.

And Maggie doesn't know why it bothers her.

She's going to be fine.

Alex is happy, relieved, ecstatic, after the tests from the CT scan, X-ray, and blood samples, initially postponed because Alex wanted Maggie's consent before doing so, all return negative.

The taller brunette is also sympathetic.

Run of the mill procedure, her fiancé explains softly, when the detective gets antsy in the machine because the walls are so small, because why did the walls have to be small? And Maggie nods, because Alex not only works here, but had been in this exact same position just over a year ago.

And Alex had recovered with far worse. Mostly.

She's going to be fine.

Afterwards, Alex accompanies her to the DEO locker rooms for a real shower, instead of whatever they'd used shortly after the exaction. Her fiancé's steady hand against the detective's back as they walk together, Maggie's legs still wobbly from twelve… god... twelve days of sitting.

She barely feels the hot water, just lets it run while Alex waits outside, a kind gesture that almost mutes the underlying current that something's not quite right.

Because she's going to be fine.

But she doesn't deserve to be.

… …. …. …

Her wrists throb and it's a welcome distraction.

Her mind won't shut down, full of thoughts and worries that were murky before, when everything was airy, lost, and difficult to decipher.

Now, Maggie shakes herself from the memories remembered too vividly, blinking away shadows of imagined red, shrugging away the low twisting ache in her stomach, and ignoring the slight pressure in her chest.

Now, it seems like she has too much time with her thoughts.

Some things are harder to forget without the haze of OxyContin keeping her under.

… … ...

Alex slides a bowl of steaming oatmeal in front of the detective, huffing amusedly at the face Maggie makes at the bland cereal.

"I know… It looks gross, but we're trying to make sure-"

"I don't puke my guts up the second I get something with some flavor. I know you told me with the apple sauce."

Maggie teases tiredly, interrupting her fiancé as she reaches for the spoon, because even when her stomach won't cooperate, she is hungry and the IV in her arm isn't doing enough and the twice a day granola bar definitely hadn't been enough.

"Winn is intent on trying to sneak in pizza, so you might get lucky. If it makes you feel any better, I got the same gloop."

The taller brunette tuts, holding up her own plastic bowl, as she settles back into the seat she'd likely rarely left in the last twenty-four hours, and Maggie smiles at that. Alex had been splitting her time between the detective, her sister, and the DEO debriefing process that the higher ups were insisting on, but Maggie knows Alex could just as easily get food from literally anywhere else if she wanted to.

"Oh, woe is you."

Maggie murmurs, eating a spoonful of the steaming cereal, eyes flickering to the glowing window, as her fiancé pries the lid from her own.

When she swallows, the oatmeal grates down her throat, like a deadened rock, like a lump of tears, like pain. Tasteless and unforgiving as a cold, anxious feeling blooms inside of her, wrapping like a vice around her heart.

Why is she eating when Kara hasn't in days?

Her eyes water, flitting back to the bowl of steaming oatmeal, and her fist clenches against the smooth metal spoon because suddenly she can't focus properly, caught in a whirl of dissonance.

Beside her she can hear Alex talking again, words indistinct as the nauseating feeling wells up further, curling, constricting, invading everywhere, anywhere it can get too.

How could she possibly be eating when Kara hasn't in days? When she hasn't so much as moved in-

"Hey…"

Somewhere above her Alex's gentle voice pokes through, face swimming into Maggie's path of vision, as she tries her best to coax an answer out of detective.

"Are you okay?"

Alex whispers, and Maggie's blinking hard now, trying desperately to focus her eyes as a whimper bubbles forth. Resilience crumbling under the onslaught and panic seeping through the cracks as she struggles to focus on the shape she knew was Alex.

"Maggie, listen to me. Focus on my voice."

When Alex reaches for her, linking their hands, intertwining their fingers.

And moment by moment, the contact brings her back to reality.

"Are you okay?"

Is she okay?

Yes. No. Yes. Maybe?

No.

She's fine.

The detective shudders, forcing a deep uneven breath, futility gathering some sense about her, making herself meet Alex's concerned gaze.

Maggie offers a hesitant nod. Then, when she knows Alex won't accept that, again with more force.

It's still wooden.

"Yeah… Yeah… I'm… not hungry anymore."

It's not really a lie.

Alex only looks at her with dubious eyes, then holds her hand tighter.

… … ….

National City's Police Department's slogan was 'To Protect and Serve'.

After the oatmeal incident, Maggie spends a lot of time thinking about those words.

If this was what she had signed up for, then... Then what?

She had signed up for this. Pushed through the ranks, even, just to get the open spot when it became available. Waited for two years stuck in a suburb police station as a general duties detective, another two in Gotham, and when that grated on her, reading the ads every day and listening to the grapevine, simply waiting for the day she could get her chance in National City.

It had taken four tries. The National City Police Department had been, and still is, both an attraction and a curse, and one was either stuck with it or gave up within the first few months, but the point was that she asked for it.

Four fucking tries to get into a police department where abductions were the norm.

It's run of the mill, more so after becoming a liaison to the DEO.

It's habit, after meeting, then marrying the love her life, and by association, becoming well-acquainted with Supergirl.

She made up her mind then, and continues to now, that she'd do anything to protect her people.

The minute her own family jumped ship, the detective had lived by that motto.

So how did she manage to fuck up protecting Kara?

Realistically, she knew it wasn't her fault.

Realistically, it was their fault. The men with faces and no names.

And realistically, Kara makes decisions for herself, makes reckless decisions every other hour.

But that also means Maggie makes decisions for herself.

Because Kara is Alex's sister.

Because Kara is her future sister in law.

Because Kara is her friend.

And all Maggie had done, really, was sit there.

She could have done something. She could have done something.

National City's Police Department's slogan was 'To Protect and Serve'.

And if she couldn't do that, then what?

Realistically. It. Wasn't. Her. Fault.

But somehow, it feels like it is.

… … ….

It's crossing the thirty-hour mark since they'd been extradited.

Kara still hasn't moved.

… … … … … …

"I don't want this."

Maggie whispers, restless and sore after Alex had changed her bandages again, pushing away the ibuprofen that she offers the detective to deal with the throbbing pain.

Alex pauses at her position at the foot of her bed, eyes flicking from the tablet in her hands to the small medicine cup in front of the detective to her.

"You sure?"

There's no judgement in her tone. No patronizing. Just understanding.

"Yeah… I'm getting the super official secret government organization discharge soon anyway and a little pain builds character."

A little pain can also rip it away is what she doesn't say.

The detective's forcing herself to eat now, even when it's all tasteless despite being graduated to more flavorful foods, because she doesn't want to scare Alex again. There's too much on Alex's plate right now for the focus to be on Maggie, not when Kara's still out cold.

J'onn and Alex had been decreasing the amount of solar radiation slowly over the last of the hours, something about consistent high dosages being detrimental in the long run. A tidbit they'd picked up from some other earth.

"Are we even that super-secret anymore?"

Alex retorts, tapping something else on the screen in her hands.

"Well, Davidson is still convinced that you're an FBI consultant."

Maggie drawls, picking at the white bandages, glancing at the glowing window, she couldn't even bring herself to look through.

Huh. Davidson. She wonders where her police partner thought she's been this whole time.

Then doesn't because it's too hard to think what if's.

"Hey! Don't do that."

Alex fusses, eyes falling to the detective's rapidly moving fingers, quickly picking up on Maggie's atypical fidgeting.

At first, the detective doesn't really acknowledge what she's saying. Lost in her own thoughts. So, her fiancé says it again. Then again. Before she realizes where the detective's is looking.

"Hey… Hey… Don't worry, Kara's just sleeping it off. She's going to be fine. She just needs time."

…. … …

Not a lot of time apparently.

Thirty-six hours after the extradition and hindsight is everything.

Hindsight is not putting someone who's been locked in a windowless room for twelve days, into another room that is almost the same. And she knows Alex and J'onn had been worried about that, about Kara waking up alone, but there wasn't much they could have done, not when the blonde couldn't eat or drink in her unconscious state.

But thirty-six hours later it comes to a head.

Because suddenly Maggie jolts awake, heart racing from the same feeling she can never quite explain, but somehow that isn't the reason her eyes are open now.

The DEO medical room is almost dark and nearly empty, except for Alex in deep sleep across from her. Winn, M'gann, James having been shooed out earlier.

But… But it isn't quiet.

It's always quiet this time of night–everyone having gone home, resting after a hard day of combat missions it had always provided a certain comfort to her, the calmness and methodicalness of it all.

But now it isn't quiet.

There's something buzzing in the background. And something wailing. Like sirens.

The detective squints, blinking away restless sleep.

Glancing around the room, she slowly realizes that the buzzing derives from Alex's iPad, vibrating rapidly beside her untouched glass of water on the bedside table, but it still isn't the source of what woke her up. The sirens…

She glances at Alex, maybe she should-

Bang.

A loud metallic thunk sounds out. Hard enough to rattle the contents of her glass.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Over and over and over. It sounds like someone's punching the wall. It sounds like-

Maggie practically spills over the bed, ready to shake Alex awake, but the taller brunette is already straightening out. Looking at the detective with vague concern and remnants of tiredness, then confusion at the vibrating tablet, then realization dawns.

And Alex is faster than the detective standing up, steadying Maggie as her own lightheadedness makes her sway.

"Stay here," her fiancé murmurs, parking her near to the chair she'd previously occupied, then moving toward the steel-reinforced door, footsteps echoing loudly off the DEO walls.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Juxtaposed only by the soft beeps of Alex's fingers against the entry code pad, turning off the sun lamps entering the code for the door, already saying something, and Maggie thinks she can hear Kara shouting on the other side. Something the detective either can't hear or understand.

And before Alex even opens the door, it dawns on Maggie then, that something is off. Because if Kara had had her powers that door would have been tinfoil by now. And she if hadn't had them then the room wouldn't be shaking right now.

There is a flurry of commotion from the other entrance. Commotion from some rouge DEO agents who had apparently gotten the alarm too, but the taller brunette hastily gestures them away as she opens the door.

And that's all Maggie's able to see before the banging ceases and a blur of blonde is shoving Alex up against the wall.

The sounds of guns cocking ricochet from the other entrance, and Maggie flinches for her holster out of sheer instinct too, forgetting it isn't there anymore, fiddling with the bandages on her wrists become the quick alternative.

Kara looks different, but somehow exactly same. In DEO sweats, instead of the sullied super suit and even at this distance the detective can see her shoulders shaking, her entire form quivering, and Maggie can tell when a nightmare still has its claws in someone.

Because Kara's really only leaning against Alex rather than pushing her against the wall, elbow pressed against the base of her sister's neck, but some strength is still there, and that's terrifying enough.

Alex's eyes squint as she slowly, slowly, slowly lifts one hand, motioning for the DEO agents to stand down, but never taking her eyes off the blonde.

"Kara, it's me."

Alex's voice is quiet, impossibly steady considering the situation, and it still echoes in the empty corridor.

Kara doesn't respond, raking in breaths in haggard shuddering gasps, enough for the rest of their own bated breaths.

"Kara. Kara, look at me, you're safe, I'm right here with you. Look at me, please?"

So carefully gentle, trying her best to coax her sister to move, to focus on something besides the inside of her own head. Maggie's fingers twitch for purchase, wanting help, but knowing in this cuttable tension, she might arguably make things worse.

The four DEO agents on the other side, seem to think this as well, painfully still as they watch things play out.

The quiet relief is shared when the injured hero twitches at Alex's words.

"Yeah, that's right, it's me..."

Alex murmurs, in her battle to shift Kara's attention to something concrete, and hesitantly she moves her hands out to the blonde's arm, resting her fingertips on the alien's pulse points.

"A-Alex?"

Kara asks, out of breath, fueled with disbelief, shock, and she sounds so, so exhausted, but she still doesn't move.

Alex nods. Nods hard and fast and repeatedly with tears in her eyes. Slowly, trying to lower her sister's shaking fist to her side.

"But… but… they have you… you too… I-"

Her sister is quick to interrupt, the blonde's staggering, slurring words, slowly pushing Kara's arm off her.

"No. No, Kara, you're at the DEO."

The injured hero says nothing for a long moment, clearly having difficulty stringing together what Alex is telling her.

"Where… Where is… Where's Maggie? Did you- Did you find Maggie, because… b-because…"

Kara asks suddenly, panicked, rushed, slurred.

"Hey… She's right here. Mags is right here."

A lag of time passes as the connection is made between what Alex saying and what that meant, then the blonde jerks as if abruptly realizing other people are in the room, and suddenly, the detective is no longer looking at the back of Kara's head, but instead right at her.

The blonde's eyes are red-rimmed and dull, darting everywhere, resting on nothing, her skin too pale, almost translucent, vivid blonde hair now dull, and despite her best efforts when she finally looks at the detective it still looks like she's seeing through Maggie instead of looking at her.

Lost.

She looks lost, shock and numbness beginning to dissipate, leaving her dangerously raw and vulnerable, trembling against Alex, who's no longer held up against the wall.

The sun can only do so much, Alex had said. Food and water would have to do the rest.

The detective offers half a wave, entirely unsure if them coming face to face would even make things any better.

Kara continues to gaze emptily past her, then stumbles a bit as she attempts to move closer and Alex is quick to support her, gazing at Maggie with shared concern.

The sun can only do so much.

… … ….

Maggie hoped that seeing Kara living, walking, talking, would be enough.

To make this horrible guilt, at the very least, ease.

But it doesn't abate.

Because Kara is clearly not okay and that kills her inside.

…. … …

The room is somehow fuller and emptier than it was before. The four unknown DEO agents replaced with J'onn, who'd been out once again masquerading as Supergirl, and Winn, who wouldn't be kept away. Then empty again with just the three of them.

Now Kara sits hunched over a blanket over her shoulders, cross legged on the end on of one of the examination tables, a huge boiling pot full of oatmeal balanced in the center of her feet as she shovels it ravenously into her mouth with a ladle.

Some color was returning to her face, and her fingers were beginning to steady, but her eyes still flutter between her and Alex and J'onn, when he was here, like she can't quite believe it was happening.

"You need to slow down," Alex murmurs quietly, sitting on the other side of her sister, who has carefully pressed up against her, flipping through basic physical results on her tablet because Kara had refused any of the invasive procedures.

The blonde, caught with a mouthful of oatmeal, regarded her sister nervously as she chewed and swallowed.

"I'm hungry."

Kara offers in blank response, quivering in intensity. Head bowing forward, hair falling in front of her face and she continues spooning the contents into her mouth.

"You still have to go slow, Kara."

Maggie finds herself parroting from Alex's other side, before she can stop the guilt from entering her tone and her hand from going out as if she had any power in the world that could make the blonde stop against her will.

Kara's eyes briefly flit towards her again, before quickly flitting away, unconsciously curling more into herself. Maggie tries not to let that hurt.

But she slows down minutely.

It doesn't matter.

She throws it all up again just minutes later.

…. …. …

They fix the food problem by only giving her two regular sized bowls every other hour and the blonde spends the wait times dissolved in a cut off kind of silence, growing more and more fidgety as she continued to garner energy from the bland food.

It's hard, Maggie knows. Because it had been hard for her and she'd been the one who had gotten food while in captivity.

But Kara doesn't ask for more, even when she clearly hasn't learned from earlier, inhaling each bowl in seconds.

... …. …. …

"I wanna go home."

Kara whispers later, backed against the corner, hands tugging sharply at the edges of the blanket over her shoulders, an eerily childish gesture of comfort.

"I know, but the DEO has-"

Alex starts.

"I don't work for the DEO."

It's petulant and childish the way she interrupts.

"I know… I know… but all your baselines are low and your powers are on the fritz. The DEO has the best equipment to help that."

That response quiets Kara for a while, who reverts into a barely constrained quiet stillness, studiously avoiding the detective's gaze.

So reluctantly, Maggie goes back to filling out her discharge paperwork J'onn had given her, while Alex continues to work on Kara's medical chart.

"But you can do that at home, right? You're a doctor, you fix me all the time."

The blonde's voice punctures the silence again almost hours later and something's different about her tone this time. Wound up, tight, nervous, like she's holding herself back from something.

"Kara…"

Alex starts, getting up, moving closer to her sister, but the blonde only tenses up, then curls out, hands shaking as they go to grip the base of her neck, eyes just a bit too wide, a bit too manic. Like she can't decide what to do, curl in on herself or run.

"Kara?"

Alex says again with concern as the blonde scrunches her eyes tightly shut,

"There aren't any windows here, Alex! There aren't any windows. Just… Just walls and fake sun!"

And suddenly they both realize problem. Even outside of the cramped sun room, the DEO interior, mostly underground, is still closely aligned with the one that held them captive. The room itself had never bothered the detective much, but then again, she'd been sleep half the time.

And Kara had always had a host of other claustrophobia issues that derived from her murky past.

"J-just walls and walls and- can I, can we please j-just go home!"

Maggie's frozen still, eye's flitting between Alex and Kara, Alex-Kara, AlexKara AlexKara- and Kara is looking everywhere… except them… hands moving to her front to tug at the collar of the oversized DEO sweatshirt and the detective can recognize the telltale sign of tears as Kara goes to wipe them away.

"Hey... Hey…"

Alex murmurs quickly reaching out for sister, pulling her in easily despite the unbridled strength everyone knows is there, hugging her tight, whispering to her something in a different language, Maggie vaguely recognized as Kryptonian.

And the detective feels like she's watching something she shouldn't and finds herself backing away, away, away, even when no one's told her to go.

… …. …

In the end, J'onn lets them go.

It takes a bit of convincing, but in the end, it amounts to Alex telling him that Maggie's expected to get discharged within the day anyway and that nothing short of Kryptonite will stop Kara from leaving on her own if she wanted to. That the mini breakdown earlier was more of a courtesy warning.

So, in the end, J'onn lets them go.

Knowing that additional trauma is unwarranted.

Knowing that, if worse comes to worse, the eldest Danvers has more than capable hands.

Maggie doesn't realize how much she missed the cool evening breeze until it blows through her hair.

… … … …. ….

Hindsight is everything.

They should have expected it.

Especially after that painfully, quiet car ride.

Because it's only seconds after closing the front door, that Kara beelines for the balcony, and takes off into the night.

The panic is there, spastically, as they run for the balcony to make sure Kara's flight hadn't been one of the several unchecked powers that faltered. It wasn't.

Then, the panic is there, wondering where she ran off too.

It turns out not very far.

A tracker put into the DEO medical bracelet, pinpoints her near the CatCo building.

So, they elect not to tell J'onn.

For now.

….. …. ….. ….

Stepping back into the apartment is like a time lapse.

Their wedding plans are still all over the kitchen table, the still undecided location spots scattered along floral decisions, and music choices.

It seems like so long ago.

Maggie shudders. She was safe now. So was Kara… to an extent.

The men who kidnapped them were dead of their own accord.

...So why did she still feel so afraid?

Why? Why is she still so terrified? Why is she still walking around with this curdling nauseous feeling in her stomach? This heavy weight on her chest?

She is so far away from where it happened...and really, nothing happened in the first place. She just sat there. Nothing happened.

"Mags, are you alright?"

Maggie begins to tremble, and this time it had nothing to do with the cold of that room, and she wills it to stop but it won't. Goddamnit.

"Maggie?"

The detective looks away because she knows if she looks into Alex's eyes everything would just come out, but at the same time any catharsis of emotion might be warranted if it would help alleviate the feeling the painful heaviness she's been carrying around.

"I… I don't know."

The detective begins, voice raspy with the weight of unshed tears.

"I can't get it out of my head. I… I can't stop feeling guilty."

Her fingers drift back to the bandages on her wrist, picking at them absentmindedly.

"Maggie…"

Alex murmurs, reaching to stop her, but the detective jerks away.

"They sent pictures, you told me they did. But it was twelve days. Twelve days of just sitting and watching. I know you didn't see it all. And I know said it wasn't my fault. And I… I know I was drugged and I know, somehow, it wasn't my fault, but… but… twelve days, Alex. Alex, she could have died!"

Her words go faster and faster until they stop, abrupt, as she cuts herself off, jerking them back like a leash.

"She didn't die, Maggie."

Alex rebuts softly, and somehow that's worse, how calm she is in all of this.

"B-but she could have. Goddamnit Alex! You should be mad at me! She already is!"

Slowly, but surely, the threads of the white bandages pick apart, tears blurring her vision as she raises her voice in exasperation.

"No one is blaming you, Maggie. Not me. Not Kara."

"How- How can you say that Alex, she can barely look at me for a second, she literally just flew away, she left because of me!"

The detective all but yells, gesturing wildly at the balcony.

"Maggie! She's not doing that because she's mad at you. She's doing it because she's blaming herself!

But whatever she intended to say next dissolved at those words, confusion sprouting to the surface.

"She thinks she didn't do enough to protect you. And she's torturing herself just like you are. And both of you are too stubborn to admit it. She needs time, Maggie! Just like you need time. Just like everyone needs time after things like this."

Her fiancé says enveloping her in her arms.

"Just time."

Alex whispers.

A deep sound reverberated in somewhere chest, spilling up warm from her throat and suddenly she's crying. Warm, salty tears flowing for the first time since all of this. She thought it would hurt, finally crying. But it is nothing but relief. There, in the dark, Alex holding in her arms. Humming low reassuring words, rocking back and forth, filling their small apartment with enough sound to chase away the guilt and fear.

"How… How do you do it. How are you not all fucked up?"

Maggie chokes out in a bitter laugh, strangled and short, letting her head fall forward, when the tears finally slow enough that she's able to talk.

And maybe that's unfair to say because she knows how Alex avoids baths like the plague now.

Alex shifts, moves, and forces the detective to look at her.

"Everyone's a little fucked up, Maggie. This isn't going to - "

Her fiancé stops, as if what she's trying to say doesn't fit right, then tries again with, "I'm still fucked up from what happened last year and maybe you're a little fucked up from this, but blaming yourself for every little thing isn't the answer. And I know that it doesn't feel like that way now, but we'll get there. Together. We're in this together, Maggie."

And there's more, Maggie can tell Alex wants to say, but she doesn't, hand still at the side of the detective's face, thumb tracing over cheekbone, and the detective sees their engagement ring glinting in the light.

The detective looks down, unable to meet Alex's eyes anymore.

"Alex," she says, carefully, trying to drag herself forward, through this, "that's - "

"True," Alex tells her. "It's true. We're family. Don't walk it alone."

And it's . . . time, before the detective can breathe right again. Before her head is more than red burn and the remembered smell and taste of things trying to write over what's here, what's real, and trying to claw her away.

…..

Kara returns in the early morning.

Quietly and without telling anyone.

Maggie doesn't know this at first.

She only realizes this after wandering into the kitchen after jolting up from the bed, eyes frantically darting around the room as she tries to remember where she is, calming only when her searching gaze came to rest on the sleeping form of Alex on the bed next to her.

Thunder strikes outside, illuminating the room with lighting every several seconds, and the soothing rain trying to put her back to sleep, but something doesn't because everything feels a bit off.

Kara's sitting at the granite table top, head leaning on one hand, as the other curved ringlets out of the table with the other and judging by her wet hair, she'd gotten caught in the storm.

"H-Hey, Maggie."

Kara says straightening up in her chair, looking up at the sudden appearance of the detective in the kitchen, tired eyes all degrees certified of a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hey. I'm surprised you're not sleep."

The detective's murmurs, level and matter-of-fact and just barely rasping against her throat that must be closing.

And as soon as she says it, it sounds stupid, because Kara has plenty of reason of why she wouldn't be sleeping right now, even if it is just past three in the morning.

"I don't need to sleep as much as…"

The blonde's words trail off unfinished, as she looks guiltily away, because they both know how much of a lie that is now. For a moment, none of them say anything and an unusual tension stretches across the room as they both avoid each other's eyes.

"I… I can go if you want."

Kara mutters, standing suddenly, hands curling together.

"No! No. Don't go, don't go."

Maggie rebuts hastily, stepping closer to the table, remembering what Alex had said. Slowly and unwillingly, Kara sits back down in the barstool, redirecting her gaze to the table, her right hand moving to her own throat like she's not aware of it, fingers resting on her collarbone.

"Kara… I… I… just- I just wanted to say. I'm sorry."

The blonde exhales shakily, jaw tightening briefly and releasing again, then painfully tight, she whispers.

"You're sorry? Why are you sorry?"

And Maggie looks away from Kara, out at the window, own whispered words frail in the wind.

"I couldn't do anything to help you. I just sat there and did-"

"What I told you to do. I told you to not fight back. And I should have… have done more because it didn't stop you from getting hurt. I'm sorry, Rao, I'm sorry I couldn't-"

Kara's voice wavers, a shadow of pain, in-turned anger and self-disgust, flickering quickly over her face, but then gone.

"No. Nonono, don't blame yourself for it. If anything you helped me get the long end of the straw and it was nothing compared to what- "

"Don't talk about it, just don't."

Kara mutters sharply, cutting her off, fiddling with her hands, clearly uncomfortable with discussing the details of what happened and the detective wonders if that's her cue to leave, but… that would make her a coward, a victim of her own guilt.

So, she stays, doesn't say anything as she slides into the seat across from the blonde, gazing at all the wedding venues displayed in the dark on the table.

Barely a minute, passes before Kara speaks again. Slow and unsteady.

"I… my planet died along with everyone on it. Then Astra. Non. Mon-el. A-Alex almost... Then… then Sam."

She continues shakily, wringing her hands tighter and tighter, until they're almost white and Maggie remembers that battle. The one where it was revealed Sam and Reign were one in the same. The one where Kara was forced to kill one of her friends.

"I thought… I thought after Krypton. It would hurt less. That people getting hurt will hurt less. That losing family hurts less, but it doesn't."

And suddenly.

"What I- they did hurt, yeah. Even when most of its gone."

She mutters, holding a trembling hand up in the moonlight, the scars from her wrists all gone. The only physical evidence that remains are the circles under her eyes and the heaviness in her voice.

"I don't remember a lot towards the end, but you're family, Maggie. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

And finally, their eyes meet for the first time that night, revealing shared exhaustion, fear, and something akin to resilience, but not guilt, no longer guilt, prevalent amongst unshed tears. The earnestness in her tone, the fluttering bravery of it, hits Maggie hard.

"You… you don't have to do that."

She tries to say through budding tears and Kara shrugs minutely, a ghost of a fragile smile on her lips.

Nothing close to the megawatt one that usually lights up the room.

"We're family. El Marayah."

… … …

Alex finds them there in the morning, asleep at the kitchen table.