Scattered Sanity (Sanvers)

The Final Day.

Alex Danvers had officially broken down. Her sanity, the pieces that she had tried to hold together for so long, had scattered, only a few shards of lucidity left bouncing around in her skull. She knew some things, and it wasn't uncommon for an old memory to jolt her brain like a burst of electricity. She remembered where she worked, at the DEO, which was led by the last Green Martian, J'onn J'onzz, who was a father figure towards her and Kara. Kara. The majority of Alex's fleeting memories were of her little sister, the hero of National City that went under the name of Supergirl. Those were the most prominent figures in her jumbled consciousness, but she would occasionally recall a moment that she had shared with people named James Olsen and Winn Schott. They were friends of Kara's that had been caught up in the whirlwind that Kara had released when she unveiled her superpowers to the world. Aside from them, Alex was at a loss.

Ever since Alex had failed to remember the lover that Rick claimed she used to have, Rick had been considerably more gleeful. Though the violence continued to persist when Alex refused to give in to his twisted affections, Rick would always holler with delight when Alex insisted that she had no romantic partner. Every time this happened, Alex felt like she was somehow letting Rick win a battle, and she didn't know how to fight it. Whenever she racked her brain for any ideas, her head would start pounding after a few minutes, and she would give up, unable to endure the pain. She knew that she was missing something, a crucial part of her past self, but it had died with the rest of the old Alex.

When she had first been taken, Alex felt that the days crawled by at an agonizingly slow pace. But now, time had all but escaped her, the hours blending and flying by, building into the eternity that she had been trapped for. She was fairly certain that her colleagues had lost hope of ever finding her, and she didn't blame them. With each day stacking on top of one another, her own hope gradually whittled away. There was still a minuscule, nearly nonexistent, foolish part of her that believed she still had a chance of being freed, however, that fraction of optimism was suffocating under the crushing weight of her extinguished faith in her friends. She was resigned to the fact that she was going to be here forever.

Her appearance gave the impression that all the life had been sucked out of her. Every inch of Alex's skin was tinged with gray, a visual representation of how she had faded as a person. There was no fullness anywhere on her body; the malnutrition she had been subjected to had stolen every ounce of her sculpted muscles and left her knobby and frail. She wasn't even sure that, if she stood up, she would be able to walk. Her hazel eyes were dull, void of her signature fire, now just empty, snuffed-out coals. The grime and blood caked onto her form and packed under her disgustingly long nails was a shell, hardened onto her flesh, as if it was covering up anything remotely Alex. Paired with the stains was her long, unkept mass of red hair that tumbled down to her shoulders in tangles, falling like a curtain in front of her face. Both were shrouding her identity, further separating mind from body. Each protruding rib could be seen on her midsection. She felt like a breathing corpse, a woman on the edge of death, rocking back and forth, a thin cord tethering her to life.

Alex was almost always mute, an observer to the torture she miraculously struggled through. Her throat was constantly burning due to dehydration, and, in the rare instances that she attempted to speak, her mouth felt lethargic. It didn't help that her lips were busted and swollen from prior beatings, which only made it harder to talk. There were no more snarky comments or curt tones that emerged from the redhead, only her forlorn gaze sweeping over the room. An infinite list of things Alex wished she could do were on loop in her head, but with each cycle, she closed up a little more. She was never going to do all of the activities that she had pushed off on her bucket list, never again going to experience life's small adventures. Tears were a common occurrence, just another addition to the collection of new traits that redefined this inferior Alex. However, she refrained from weeping openly in front of Rick. That was a shred of pride that she managed to hold onto. During the nights, when the air would grow cool, Alex would cry, her regrets spilling over in the form of salty rivulets, trekking their way down her hollowed cheeks as she shook with grief. She cried because she missed the sunshine, the way its rays would cast their glow and warmth upon her skin, freckles materializing where it touched her. She cried because she missed working with Kara, the long nights or strategizing and problem-solving to protect National City. She cried because she missed gatherings at Kara's apartment, accompanied with loud bouts of laughter, cold beers, and comfort food. She cried because she missed her life and the people she loved, and she cried because she had never been able to say goodbye.

This particular night, Alex wasn't crying. Rick had vanished to his own home, and she was alone with her scattered sanity and broken mind. The wind howled ominously outside, sending a shiver up Alex's spine.

Suddenly, there was a thunderous crash from within the warehouse. Alex's head snapped up, her heart rate spiking as her anxiety swelled, and she frantically turned left and right to see where the sound could have come from.

"Do you see her? She has to be here, right?" A familiar voice, one Alex had known since she was in middle school, ever since an interstellar girl was taken in by her family. "Alex, where are you?"

"Kara..." Alex mumbled, unable to shout. "Kara, I'm here..."

Footsteps echoed throughout the warehouse, and a DEO agent swung around the corner to find Alex bound to a post, splattered with blood and grime, unhealthily thin, and shattered. "I found her!" He yelled ecstatically, his face illuminating. "She's here, Kara! She's right here!"

Less than a second later, another person dashed to the side of the agent. She was tall, with loosely curled, blonde-brown hair and light blue eyes. Kara. Her mouth fell open in disbelief as she stared at her older sister, at the beaten, tortured individual that lay in front of her. "Alex!" She exclaimed, tears instantly filling her eyes as she collapsed to her knees. Kara ripped apart the ropes binding Alex, and the redhead's arms dropped for the first time in two years.

Without support, Alex nearly toppled over, but her sister caught her, holding her upright. "Kara...it's you..." Alex muttered incoherently. "I thought...you had...given up..."

As gently as possible, Kara embraced Alex, sobbing into her shoulder. "Never, Alex. Not once, not for a second, did I ever think about leaving you behind." She pulled back for a moment, wiping her eyes and smiling. "Maggie and I never stopped looking for you. We couldn't function knowing that you still might be out there somewhere. We believed that you would hang on. And you did, Alex, you did." Kara sniffled, hugging Alex for a moment longer. "Maggie's going to be so happy to see you. I didn't bring her. You see, she had passed out from a lack of sleep because we found a lead to where you were, and she was so determined to find you that she wouldn't rest until she accomplished her goal. I didn't want to disturb her after she had worked herself to the bone." Kara grinned.

Alex tipped her head slightly to one side. "Who's...Maggie?"