I am loving all of your fix-it fics you are amazing!!! Could you do one where Alex runs after Maggie when she tries to leave after talking about how her parents found out she was gay and then brings her back in the apartment and comforts her on the couch? I totally get if you are too busy you do so many amazing and supportive things for this fandom
Her voice cracks and Alex knows why she’s running.
“I gotta go, just…” she interrupts herself, and she leaves, and Alex knows why.
Because she’s about to cry. Because she’s about to cry, and she can’t cry, because if she cries now, she’ll never stop. If she cries now, it won’t be whatever. It’ll be something that can still shred her to the core.
But she doesn’t close the door behind her. She lets it linger open, and that’s how Alex knows something else: that Maggie needs to run, because Maggie is about to cry.
But Maggie left the door open, and Maggie is nothing if not deliberate: Maggie left the door open for Alex.
And so she goes, she goes, silk robe and slip be damned, she goes because Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, she was fourteen and she wanted better for Alex and she was fourteen and she deserved a full, happy life and she was fourteen and Alex would be damned if she didn’t give it to her.
“Maggie, stop,” she calls, padding out into the hall in her bare feet, but Maggie isn’t waiting by the elevator. The door to the stairwell is still heaving closed, but the elevator button is lit up: Maggie must have pressed it, pressed it, determined it wasn’t coming fast enough, that her own feet were better, more reliable.
Perhaps the only reliable thing.
But Alex needs to prove that’s not true.
And sure enough, Alex finds her on the stairwell, finds her wracking with silent sobs as she practically flies down the stairs, and Alex tries again.
Maggie stops immediately, but she doesn’t turn around. Alex gulps, and she’s surprised; surprised it was that easy to get her to stop.
“You’re barefoot, Danvers, you shouldn’t be on the staircase. It’s cold and anyway, you could get hurt.”
Alex walks down to her anyway.
“I don’t care about… Maggie, I… I’m sorry.”
Maggie turns suddenly, and her face is streaked with tears and mascara and old scars.
“I don’t need your pity, Danvers.”
Alex blinks and stiffens and Maggie immediately retracts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I – “
“No. No, you’re right. You don’t need pity. You need something better. You need to be heard. And I want to hear you, Maggie, I want… I want to… I’m not going to abandon you like that, Maggie, I’m not going to betray you like that. I… I do like you, too.”
Maggie smiles softly and wipes at her eyes at Alex’s self-deprecation, and Alex tentatively reaches up to wipe her tears instead.
Maggie stiffens for a tense moment, but she forces herself to look up into Alex’s eyes and relents. Alex wipes her tears attentively, carefully, diligently. Lovingly.
“I know I can’t make it better, Maggie, but I want to… I want to be able to be here for you. And I am so, so sorry that I didn’t listen better, I… I’m gonna get better at that, I promise.”
Maggie nods slowly, and she takes a deep, deep, long sigh.
“You’re gonna catch a cold, Danvers,” she rasps after a long moment, and Alex shrugs.
“You’re worth it. Hell, Maggie, you’re worth the Bravakian flu.”
A small smile tugs at Maggie’s lips, now. “Or the black lung?” she asks, and Alex returns it.
“You are worth everything, Maggie. Everything. Come back inside? If you want?”
“Alex, I – “
But her phone chirps, and they both grimace, because they know that sound.
Alex helps Maggie finish wiping her tears, finish composing her face so it doesn’t look like she’s been crying.
“Duty calls,” Maggie says bravely, and Alex nods.
“I’ll see you later?” Alex asks in a small voice, and Maggie nods.
Alex kisses her hand and turns sadly to head back upstairs.
She spins back so eagerly she almost overbalances, and Maggie reaches up with steady hands to catch her.
“You look beautiful.”
Alex flushes and sighs silently. “So do you, Maggie. So do you.”