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That morning, Maggie didn't get up.
Usually, since they started spending every night in the same bed, she would get out of bed between the moment Alex would slip out of the covers to get ready for her morning run and the moment she would step out of the bathroom, freshly showered. Usually, Maggie would have at least coffee ready for her girlfriend, and on especially good days, she would be plating an homecooked breakfast before kissing Alex hello.
But not today.
No, today she was still lying on her side under the duvet, looking absently at the wall. There was no coffee, no breakfast, no morning kiss. Just the silent rise and fall of her chest and the suffocatingly quiet atmosphere.
"Babe?" came the soft call from Alex's voice.
But Maggie didn't give any sign she heard her.
"Babe?" Alex tried again; no answer. "Maggie, you okay?" When her fiancée still didn't react, she approched her slowly as if not to scare her off. She could see Maggie's eyes were open but vacant, and fear suddenly gripped her stomach. She carefully sat on the edge of the mattress and caressed a strand of night-black hair away from the cop's face. The action seemed to rouse her and Maggie blinked owlishly.
"Hey," whispered Alex gently, "you awake, sleepyhead?" Her tone was tentative. She was feeling that something was off and she hated not knowing what it was, hated being in the dark when it came to her girlfriend's well-being.
"Huh. Yeah, yeah, awake... Just need a minute." Maggie managed a half-smile and somehow that put some of Alex's worry at ease. After all, she reasoned, everyone can have an off day once in a while. Maybe Maggie didn't have enough sleep. Maybe she really just needed a few minutes for her brain to fully awake. Alex wasn't often there to witness her girlfriend's awakening process as she was usually gone for her run before Maggie got up. Maybe this morning she fell back asleep and woke up later. Nothing to worry, really.
As those thoughts ran through her mind, Alex felt herself relax. She really was working herself in panic over nothing. She really needed to stop her thoughts from automatically jumping to the worst case scenario every time.
She took a long, fortifying breath, told Maggie to take her time today, that she would make coffee this morning, and got up after kissing her temple.
Fifteen minutes later, she was sipping hot coffee while perusing the day's paper and Maggie was still in bed. She would glance over to where she was laying silently, immobile; and as minute passed, her worry crept back deep in her chest.
Her mind started replaying previous mornings, searching for something — she wasn't sure what.
Two days ago, she recalled, the coffee was still brewing when she stepped out of the shower. It was the first time Maggie has been this late. So it wasn't just today.
Two days ago, the coffee was still brewing and Maggie had appologized. Profusely. Alex had found her fiancée's over-reaction cute and had silenced her with her own mouth, kissing her worry away. Maggie had held her a long time afterward, tiredly resting her forehead on the agent's shoulder, and they stayed standing like this in the middle of the kitchen, swaying gently, sharing silent confort.
Two days ago, the coffee was still brewing, Maggie overreacted, but Alex didn't think much of it at the time.
Now though. Now that made two. Two instances when Maggie struggled to get out of the bed and her mood seamed off.
It takes three to make a pattern.
Nine days ago, Maggie fell asleep on the couch watching her favorite show while Alex had gone to bed early, exhausted after a difficult mission. Alex had woken up alone in a cold bed, her girlfriend absentmindly watching the morning programs she usually hated so much. Alex had made fun of her then, stole the remote controle and switched to some silly cartoon before slumping on the couch beside her girlfriend for a morning cuddle, postponing her morning run for a few minutes, spending a few moments of intimacy with Maggie taking precedence over her routine after having to spend the night alone.
Nine days ago, Maggie fell asleep on the couch, and Alex chalked her obvious fatigue and sour mood off to spending the night on an tiny couch in an inconfortable position.
That made three.
But, even if it was cause to concern, it wasn't proof enough that something was seriously wrong.
Her gut was telling her otherwise though.
She knew Maggie. She knew her habits, she knew her personnality. She knew her quirks, and her tells. Her triggers. Her coping mechanisms. The good, the bad. Everithing from her love of bonsai trees to her instinct to always act as if everything's okay, her instinct to hide everything she deemed being a weakness.
And... Oh.
God, she has been so stupid. And oblivious. Blind, really. And really, really stupid.
How? How haven't she seen it sooner? Sure, she knew Maggie had made her best to hide it but It has been going for weeks. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it started, it had been so insidious, but she could see it now. The slow downfall of her mood. Of course she had noticed it at some extant. She had chalked it off to bad days at work. It happened. But now she wasn't so sure.
It felt like it was more than that.
The smiles that looked more forced than usual. The way she seemed to abandon herself more freely to the booze. Her shrinking appetite. Her longer silences. The drop of her libido (not that it translated in lack of sex, but she could see it now, how it took longer to make her come, how she wou!d shy away from her own pleasure to concentrate on Alex's, how she would wear her off so she wouldn't be able to reciprocate, because of course Maggie would make sure she was a good girlfriend, that would be her priority, even if she was in pain herself).
Alex knew those symptoms. She had studied them in med school. She knew what they were hinting to. But posing the diagnosis terrified her. She didn't want to rush to conclusions either. She needed more datas before posing a diagnosis. It's a rigorous process that requier more than a gut feeling and few instances of odd behaviour.
She knew it was more denial of her part than actual scientific rigor.
Twenty more minutes had gone and Alex's coffee had grown cold. Maggie hadn't moved, still in the same position on her side, staring unblinkingly at the bare wall.
Alex took a decision. She sent a quick text to J'onn telling him that at best she would be late today, but that she probably would take the morning off. She stood up, got rid of the remnants of her coffee in the sink and made her way back to the bedroom. She hovered a moment over the bed, and after allowing herself an second for collecting her courage, she crawled into the bed toward Maggie.
"Hey baby, how do feel about cuddles?" she murmured sweetly into her girflriend's ear as she moved slowly to spoon her. After a moment too long, Maggie hummed her consent so Alex scooted closer, her arm sneaking around Maggie's waist. The agent's mouth dropped to the cop's neck, placing a million of butterfly kisses on the delicate skin, sometimes alterning with gentle nips at her earlob or nuzzling the crook behind her jaw.
"I love you, Maggie" Alex felt the shudder that her words induced running through her fiancée's body. "I love you so much. Always. And no matter what. I will always love you and I'll always be there."
The painful sob that wrack Maggie's body then felt like a terrible confirmation to her doubts. The words that fell next from the crying woman's lips just added to it. "I don't—I don't deserve you."
"Of course you do, baby. Of course you do. You deserve me. You deserve the best of me. You deserve the best things in the world."
"No! N-no, I... I can't even... You don't deserve me. You deserve better. Better than a girl that can't even..."
Alex waited a moment for Maggie to finish her thought. Nothing came but heartbreaking sobs. "Can't even what?"
It took an agonizingly long time for Maggie to answer. "Can't even get out of bed." Her tone is quiet and self-deprecating, as if she'd just admitted her darkest sin.
Alex held her tighter. Trying to convey physically her love and the feeling of her earlier declaration.
"I'm trying. I'm really trying. But i can't. It's like a battle in my head and I'm losing. I'm so tired, and just trying, and talking, is exhausting. I don't know what to do. I feel trapped. I've been fighting for so long but it's never enough."
Alex hummed in aknowledgement. "How long have you been feeling like that?" A part of her wanted to ask 'Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could have helped you.' But she already knew why. She knew of Maggie's struggles with opening up, especially about what she deemed being weaknesses. She knew how, after a life spent alone without any support, she valued being self-sufficient. And she knew, of course she knew, that it was a symptom too.
"I don't know. A while. It's just been harder and harder the last few weeks. That's when I really started to struggle. But i think it's been there for longer. I- it's- I think- If I'm being honnest, it's probably been there for years. On and off. Since I- since I wad a kid. Since- you know."
Alex knew. Since that fateful day when Maggie's poor excuse of parents kicked her out of her own home. At freaking 14. Of course, of fucking course, such trauma could cause that kind of mental health issues. What Alex was not sure of, though, is how Maggie managed all these years. She felt an ardent rush of love and pride for her fiancée; this woman was incredibly strong and brave. Alex was in awe, and once again she swore to herself to do the impossible and more to help this beautiful, tough, smart woman to recover from her past.
"When my aunt took me in, I was- I don't know- I just- I felt so empty. It took me almost a month to cry and then I felt numb again. And it was different back then. I wasn't like I'm now. I did everything I was supposed to do, it just- just- felt like I was an automaton? Sometimes I felt like I didn't really existed, and sometimes I wished I really didn't existed. Because when I wasn't numb, all I could feel was pain. And I wanted it to stop, I didn't how to- so I did- I tried- I tried to make it stop."
A cold feeling grasped Alex's heart and squeezed hard. God, did Maggie just implied that she... Alex couldn't think about that, wouln't think about that. About how she almost lived in a world without Maggie Sawyer in it. It was just her worst nightmare.
And this meant that it was even more serious than what Alex feared. If Maggie had attempted to- If Maggie had done it before then, she knew, she would be more prone to do it again. And God forbid, the next attempt might be successful.
Panic rose in her chest, suffocating and inextricable. She pressed herself impossibly closer to Maggie's body, chest against back, nose buried in neck and soft hair.
Maggie stiffened. She could hear the ragged breathes close to her ear and feel long fingers digging into the soft flesh of her belly. The distress radiating from her fiancee seemed to rouse a part of her previously lost in the fog of her existential crisis. She suddenly found the strength to move and turn around. It wasn't an easy feat, the way Alex was clinging to her body, but she managed to face her. "I'm sorry."
"Don't you dare. Don't you dare die on me."
"I won't." It sounded hollow though. Maggie felt so tired her voice lacked conviction. She sighed. And tried again. "Baby, I won't abandon you." She felt tears seep through the fabric of her t-shirt.
They clinged to each other for dear life for what felt like hours.
Finally Alex's face emerged from Maggie's shoulder and she sniffed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I'm supposed to take care of you right now."
Maggie bit back her instinctive retort, about how she was perfectly capable to take care of herself. Because, right now, she knew it wasn't the case. She needed Alex, and Alex needed her. "You're allowed to have emotions too. You're allowed to be upset."
"Maybe. But still not the best reaction. I could have handled that better. I just got so scared to loose you for a moment. So I panicked. Sorry, that was stupid."
"No, it wasn't. I'm not sure how I would react if the roles were reversed."
"I can't imagine my life without you in it, Maggie. That would be terrifying."
"Hey, I'm still here okay?"
Alex held Maggie close as to convince herself of her actual presence. After a few minutes, once her heartbeat had slowed down to a normal tempo, she let go and move to be able to look into Maggie's eyes.
"I think you need help, Maggie. I think you probably have a serious case of depression."
She sighed and looked down. "Yeah. Can't say you're the first one to tell me that." At Alex's curious expression she explained, "I've seen a counselor in high school and had a few mandatory sessions with the mandated therapist at work. It didn't go far any time. Can't say I was fond of any of them. I said just enough to get them off my back."
"I can't blame you, I don't have a good track record with shrinks either." She seemed to ponder something for a moment before taking a decision. "I might know someone though. I never consulted her, she's an old friend from college. One of the really few people I'm still talking to. And that are still talking to me. She's nice. And LGBT friendly. Maybe it could be worth a shot to give it a try?"
Maggie nodded slowly, lips pursed.
"Look, I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to, okay? But I think it could be good for you."
Maggie looked up to Alex, into her earnest eyes, and really, how could she say no to her? She knew she had a problem, she had known for a long time, she has only been too stubborn to seek help. Until now. She didn't think she could do it for herself, she was still feeling so undeserving. But for Alex? Her wonderful wife-to-be who seemed to love her despite all of her shortcomings? Who deserved the best version of herself Maggie could manage to be? Sure, she would do it, she would do anything.
"Yeah. I'll give it a shot."
Alex let out a relieved breath and offered her a small grateful smile.
"Okay, I'll give her a call." She sat up and tried to look cheerful, clapping her hands. "So. Now. I have a proposition. How about we call in sick at work this morning and we get breakfast in bed and cuddle and relax. I mean, I already text J'onn earlier so he's not expecting me until after lunch."
Maggie rose to an elbow, her eyebrows rising high on her forehead. "You took your morning off before you even knew what was going on?" Alex shrugged.
"I knew something was wrong. I didn't know what, but I knew I wasn't going to let you deal with it alone."
"You're amazing." Her soft, love-strucked eyes echoed the sentiments. She leaned to give her fiancée a peck on the corner of the mouth.
"Please, you would do the same, I know that. You already did. You've been taking care of me since the moment I stumbled out of the closet, back when we were still only friends. All the things you've done for me-- You are amazing, Maggie Sawyer. Taking the morning off to be with my fiancée, that's nothing."
"It's not nothing for a workaholic."
At the playful tone, Alex felt something relax in her throat. The woman facing her, the love of her life, still looked tired and weary, the bone-deep sadness lingering in her eyes, the set of her mouth, the drop of her shoulder; but there was something akin of hope piercing though the dark clouds.
Maggie's mask was back on, and she was obviously done with dealing with heavy feelings, but Alex was relieved to see their conversation had a positive impact, even if it was probably only temporary. That was start.
So she tilted her head to the side and put on a matching playful expression; time to play along.
"So, does that mean that you want to go to work right now?"
"Uh, no. I guess I'll survive a few hours away from work. I might need some help from you to keep my mind off of it though."
She wasn't sure if the innuendo was intended or not, but it sure did a fire in Alex's lower belly. She ignored it.
"I'm sure that can be arranged. So, you'll be okay calling while I make pancakes?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah. And pancakes? I feel spoiled."
"You deserve the treat, baby. Just let yourself enjoy, okay?"
"I- Yeah, okay, today I'm a princess."
"That's the spirit."
She shuffled into the kitchen area and started cooking, while Maggie was making her phonecall.
She couldn't stop her eyes or her thoughts from wandering back to her fiancée.
Maggie was alive, she reminded herself. Maggie might be sick, but she was alive and was getting help. Alex would call Trish, her psychiatrist friend, later this morning and would set an appointment. It would be okay.
Sure, it would not be easy. It'd be hard, there would be setbacks, and bad days, and arguments. It was the beginning of a long battle.
But Maggie wasn't alone. Alex and Maggie weren't alone. They had a support network, and come what may, they would survive this, together.
She forced herself to focus on making food, the familiar routine of making pancake batter grounding her.
Somehow, she managed to cook the crêpes without burning any of them (if some of them were a dark shade of brown it didn't count) and she finally made her way back to bed, holding a tray.
Maggie was still in bed. But now she was sprawled on her stomach, face buried in Alex's pillow. She seemed more relaxed now that she wasn't battling with herself to get up.
Alex deposited the tray on the mattress and kneeled beside her fiancée, running her fingertips along the length of her cotton-clad back.
"Breakfast's served, babe."
That morning, Maggie didn't get up. And Alex stayed in bed with her until noon. Until the grey fog of Maggie's depression receded enough to let her face the day.
That morning, they spent it together in bed.