Just Surviving (#Clexa)

Jus Drein, Jus Daun

Lexa POV

It's only when I've arrived back in the capital building that I hear Clarke has sent word for me. All of a sudden, my fears have dissipated – is she going to accept? Has she made her decision?

I'd known she would eventually.

Hardly able to keep a straight face, I enlist some guards to take me to her, wondering how the conversation is going to play out. Despite how much I like to pretend I'm fine, Clarke's distance from me has been taking its toll, and just having her on my side would mean everything right now.

I enter the room fast, striding in to see Clarke standing with her back to me, obviously deep in thought. When we'd been allies in the past, I'd grown used to her extended silences, her mind sometimes so far away that even I couldn't reach her. It was something I liked about her, just as much as her talent to lead.

'You wanted to see me,' I say curtly. 'I'm here.'

Clarke stays exactly where she is, but I have a funny feeling that she heard me. All of a sudden, my confidence wavers, and an edge of concern makes its way into my voice: 'Clarke...'

I stride forwards, forgetting momentarily that the guards are still in the room watching, and the blonde girl abruptly breaks into movement. She dodges towards me, barrelling into me and stopping only when she has something cold and sharp pressed against my throat, making me gasp.

If it had been anyone but Clarke, I would have avoided it. But she blurs my instincts. She makes me weak.

She's going to kill me.

I realize it with shock. The other girl's face is so close, so full of emotion, her eyes looking deep into mine. Hateful and vengeful.

I feel a sudden throb in my chest as I realize how much she hates me. God, how she hates me. For what I did to her at Mount Weather. But there's also something else – another pain. In fact, most of it is a different pain. She's broken, self-loathing and grieving, and she needs an outlet. She's changed so much.

I'm very careful not to move, keeping my neck bared and my eyes on Clarke's face, anticipating what will happen next. The guards cannot help me because they'll risk getting me killed. This is between me and her, and it always has been.

If only there was a way for me to show her what I think of her, what she means to me. I haven't killed her because I can't. The truth is, I'd rather kill myself. Clarke is special, and I ruined her in one brisk move – a move which I often make as Heda. But maybe the Heda and Lexa should not be the same person.

Maybe Clarke was right all along.

Clarke's gaze is travelling over my face, to the knife at my neck and then back up to my eyes, and I make sure to let my emotions reign free. Let her see me for once. Let her see who's blood she's about to spill.

She's breathing heavily, and I can feel her hand shaking.

She isn't going to do it.

Clarke would never kill me, and I would never kill her. And God, I just wish I hadn't done this. By betraying her, I made us both weak. 

As I look into her eyes, an almost unbearable wave of sadness and regret overcomes me. All my life I've been forced to lead alone. And then life gave me Clarke, and I took advantage of her.

Clarke's grip on the knife loosens and I whisper, 'I'm sorry.'

Her lips tremble, her eyes shining with tears. For a second, neither of us moves, and then she pulls away to let the knife clatter harmlessly to the floor. She's shaking, panting, as if she can't believe what she's just done. Neither can I.