sanvers one shots

"i'm sorry"

Does anybody wear a shirt anymore?  As I entered the training centre, a familiar stench greeted my nose. I watched sweaty men loudly grunt, manipulating various objects and admiring themselves in surrounding mirrors. I coolly make my way past a few of them, directing my focus downward; a harsh clang  startled me on my brisk stroll to get dressed when one of the hulks proudly dropped a bar loaded with weight, his friends smacking his chest and howling. This earned an eye roll.

Unsurprisingly, the women's change room (if one can even call it that; it's a glorified closet) was empty when I arrived. Estrogen was somewhat hard to come by in this facility, to say the least... I threw as much of my short hair as could fit into a ponytail at the back of my head. Sweatpants and tank top donned, I entered the weight room.

Once again passing next year's bodybuilding champs, I raced to the boxing floor, managing to balance the subtle don't fuck with me vibe I subconsciously emit with avoiding any confrontation. To my great delight, it was empty.

"Stretch, strike, spar," I mumbled to myself, confirming the order of operations before I began my warm up. I was good at pretty much everything growing up, so my trainers really had their hands full helping me stick to any kind of routine. Descending into a middle split, the world melts away; it was just me and the floor.

By now my muscles carried out the movements without much thought. Pike, pigeon, right split, left split, deep breath. Cobra, child's pose, downward dog, up. Flexibility, mobility, agility... Dynamic arm twist, crack the back left, right –

"Nice form, Danvers."

A familiar voice snapped me from my trance. Maggie leans against the wall, her leather jacket covering a loose, cropped shirt and leggings. She took it off and smirked at me. I said nothing, attempting to continue my exercises on autopilot; I was there to blow off steam. Calmly, she sauntered over to a punching bag and threw a few hits.

I walked to the opposite side of the floor and did some strength training on the chin-up bar. I could feel her eyes on me, but I kept my focus on the work: 7, 8, 9, 10. Other side, 1, 2... My shirt started to ride up and Maggie slowed, her rhythm distracted and erratic, until she stopped punching altogether.

"You better blink soon, your eyes will dry out." My sarcastic comment came out a low growl as I finished my last set. Landing light on my feet I hopped down from the bar, took a sip of water, and selected a punching bag.

"How'd you know?"

"Know what," Maggie ventured.

"That I'd be here," punch. "How'd, you, know?" I inquired through gritted teeth, launching my fists after each word. Almost like... punch-tuation. I made a mental note to save that one for later - it was fine work.

"I'm a detective, Danvers. Though it wouldn't take a very good one to know this is where you come to decompress, to avoid. I see the appeal."

I remained silent, letting the echo of my knuckles against the stuffed leather fill the room.

"Are we gonna talk about what happened this morning? Why you left in such a hurry?" Maggie gently persisted; I paused.

"... No." Punch.

"Does it have anything to do with this letter I found on the couch?" She held the wrinkled paper out to me as my eyes shifted to my shoes. Why did I buy these shoes? I hate them. I'll get rid of them tomorrow, maybe drop them at the thrift store – I'll have time between work and dinner with...

"Maggie, I..." I fought hard against the falter in my voice. You're not gonna cry. Get it the hell together. My shoulders rolled back a few times. Punch.

"Did you mean what you wrote? Because Alex if you really want to end this, I'll understand. I'll be devastated, but... I'll understand." Her gaze dropped, revealing to me a rare flash of vulnerability. Her eyes fluttered back upwards, the pain in her eyes unmistakable and excruciating for just a moment.

"I know I'm not the easiest to be with, okay? I thought you did too," She snapped, her stoic defense regaining control. With a look of despair on her face, she turned and threw her whole body into a punch, knocking the bag so hard it nearly hit her on its way back. I was frozen, speechless; she stared back at me, impatiently awaiting my reply.

"I guess there's my answer, then," she whispered.

I watched Maggie storm off, my feet glued to the floor. What have I done? A loud clatter brought me back to my senses and I raced after her into the change room. She had packed up to leave, and tried to brush past me.

"Wait," I mumbled, too quietly for even myself to hear. Raising my voice, I grabbed her hand, "wait, please." she stopped and remained facing the door.

"I am afraid to lose you. I have always been successful, at everything - my career, my family, my education – but no matter how hard I try, you are the one thing I can't get right. I wrote that letter at 2:30 this morning because I had a nightmare, that you were hurt and I couldn't save you. I failed the most important thing in my life. I was weak, and afraid, and I couldn't face that. I didn't want to face it, Maggie, because I would rather let you go than let you down. If I had to choose between breaking my heart and breaking yours, I would rip mine out of my chest any day, I need you to know that."

"Then you need to understand that keeping this from me is what's breaking my heart. Love goes both ways, Alex. It has to." Maggie sighed deeply and walked out.

-------------------------

I couldn't sleep. 

I should have thrown it in the trash, burned it, ripped it up and tossed it off the balcony. I never should have wrItten it, I never should have even thought it! She wasn't meant to see this side of me, my doubts are ugly and bring out my worst... I am supposed to be better, stronger, invincible for her.

All of a sudden, I understood.

-------------------------

I stood at Maggie's doorstep. She opened the door almost immediately, waiting for me to catch my breath.

"I always wanted a dog growing up. I got 70% on an assignment in high school, and I cried. For two hours. I don't know how to whistle. My favourite song is "Waterfalls" by TLC; you know it, you hate it, it's terribly catchy and if you tell anyone, they would never believe you." No response; I kept going.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being selfish and letting self-doubt cloud my judgement. It's not about me, it shouldn't be all about me, you're right. I thought it would hurt less if I was the one ending it, if I stayed in control. But that's not how I want to live my life, sacrificing beautiful things to keep myself safe. You deserve a woman who shows you all of her, okay? The good, the bad, the ugly. I know how hard it is for you to be vulnerable, and I know how hard you're trying, I was wrong and a hypocrite to expect you to trust me with your demons when I won't show you mine. I'm sorry Maggie, I'm so sorry, and I promise I'm going to do everything I can to make you feel safe, alright? This has to go both ways." Step by step she moved closer, the silence between us deafening. "Please, Maggie, say something."

"Finally," she sighed, resting her lips on mine. Her touch made me melt. She pulled away quite suddenly, looking me dead in the eyes; "but if you ever pull something like this again, I might not wait up."