Summary:
Emerson knocked Clarke unconscious, and when she wakes up, she's confused and afraid.
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Clarke wakes up not knowing where she is, sitting up like a spring, her heart racing like crazy. Flashes of burning bodies blind her, haunt her, the memories clutching to her skin like the hands of those who died trying to take her with them. Everything is a blur, her head feels like a block of ice being carved with a hammer.
A warmth on her hand stops her frantic eyes as they try to find a grasp of reality to hold onto.
"It's okay, you're safe." The words calm her, ground her, manage to make her believe the ghosts aren't there anymore.
Lexa sits on the bed, right next to Clarke. They're still in the commander's apartments, but the sun seems to have been down a while now. The candles scattered on the tables lay a soothing light over the room, fighting the shadows in the corners.
"What happened?" Clarke asks, still struggling to focus on her surroundings.
"He knocked you out." Right. Emerson hit her on the head and then nothing.
"So much for the mighty Wanheda," she laughs. It sends a sharp pain through her skull, on the right side. Wincing, she forgets about it pretty quickly when Lexa chuckles with her.
Clarke lays back to rest her head on the wooden board of the bed. "What happened to him?"
Lexa takes her hand off Clarke's, earning a somewhat saddened look from her, as she stands.
"He's been taken care of, do not worry." It's obvious she's about to leave. She stands with her back to Clarke, looking at her over her shoulder. Her eyes are hooded, tired, and Clarke wonders how long she has stayed by her side. "I have things to do tonight, you should rest."
Suddenly, as Lexa walks away and Clarke tries her best to push away the images of a similar scene back when they stood in the rain on Mt. Weather, something in the air turns cold. The idea of being alone with her thoughts suddenly scares Clarke, and she wants to run away, wants to hide in the trees away from her worries and disappear. She wants somewhere far from the stupid actions of her people, safe from the threats of this world, somewhere shielded from pain and dark memories. The more steps Lexa takes, the colder Clarke feels, to a point where she actually shivers.
"Wait," is all she's able to say before the door can close between them.
Lexa turns around, still mostly outside the room. In the silence, they lock eyes and try to understand each other. Clarke holds the other woman's gaze as strongly as she can, unwilling to let it be known that she is afraid. But she also knows she has no way of getting Lexa to stay if she refuses to be honest with her.
"I just––Don't leave."
Lexa doesn't move. She looks like a statue holding the door stiffly, staring into nothing although her eyes never leave Clarke. Her chin raises, shoulders straight, eyes cold when she closes the door quietly.
"Don't leave me," Clarke lets out, her voice breaking. All she gets back is the echo of a single sob escaping her chest.
She doesn't cry, no matter how much she wants to. It burns in her lungs, up her throat, but she doesn't have the energy. She's just so done.
Head dropping, she lets herself drift away.
The door opens again as Lexa comes back. Clarke doesn't really realize until she's sitting on the bed again, propped on her left arm, the other hand back on Clarke's.
"I'm sorry, I had to excuse myself." Lexa smiles warmly at her, stroking reassuring circles on the back of Clarke's hand.
"Was it important?"
"No, Titus can manage without me."
Clarke wraps her free hand over Lexa's, holding it tightly in her palms.
"Do you remember all of them? The people you've killed."
Lexa looks away for a moment, her face falling. Her hand between Clarke's tenses, and the commander builds up behind her eyes, threatening to envelop her in a thick armor to keep her at a distance from her old truths.
"Sometimes, yes. Not all of them." Her lips quirk up, not in a smile really, but it imitates one well. "As a whole I do, yes. I see them."
Clarke lightly runs a hand up Lexa's arm, pulls her closer when it reaches her face, cupping her jaw gently. In search of solace, she abandons herself to this instant. It's a pure, vulnerable instant. Both her and Lexa are breaking down their walls to take this small comfort in the way they can touch and feel each other's pain. They know each other's nightmares because they have the same ones.
"Stay," Lexa says, and Clarke remembers they're still in her room.
"If you'll let me," she answers, a smile ghosting over her lips.
And Lexa leans in so their foreheads touch. She leans in and Clarke wants her to stay forever. Wants her to stay close forever. She leans in and Clarke feels safe, really safe, for the first time in months.
She's still dying inside from all the lives she ended, but she knows some choices need to be made. Hard choices. And Lexa has had to make the same ones over and over, and she understands. They're haunted by the same ghosts, brought down by the same weight, but as long as Lexa's there, as long as she touches her, Clarke can support her back. It's like the ghosts can't hurt her as much when Lexa's there, and that's enough to take away part of the chains.
Letting go of everything, Clarke leans in too. She pushes against Lexa's forehead until the girl angles her head, nose brushing lightly against hers. Gently, Clarke tangles her fingers in Lexa's hair, her eyes locked on her lips, free of ghosts, free of nightmares. They freeze for a second, taking in everything. The warm breath on their face, Clarke's hand on Lexa's neck, Lexa's hand riding up Clarke's arm, their eyelashes fluttering on the other's cheeks.
Lexa is the first to completely close her eyes, but Clarke is the one to close the gap between them. It's delicate, like she doesn't want Lexa to break at the contact or maybe she's afraid she'll shatter herself because she isn't ready. Clarke captures Lexa's lips with her own until Lexa finally responds to the kiss, pushing against Clarke's mouth with tamed desire.
They pull away at the same time, a light chuckle escaping their throats when they bump their foreheads together too hard.
"Rest," Lexa hushes, voice lost.
"You too."
They lock gazes again, and in silence, lay tangled in the furs.
It's to the promise of having Lexa by her side in the morning that Clarke falls asleep.
It's to the relief of having Clarke in her arms that Lexa drifts away.
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1175 Words
