Lexa was dying. She had been, ever since Clarke entered her tent and negotiated for peace for her people. Was, when she ruled with a heart over her head, ignored Skaikru's misdeeds and retracted punishment from those deserving. Her reign fell apart, when she tried to initiate Skaikru into the Coalition, a weakness so glaring the Clans knew she couldn't forget, and now—
''Clarke—'' she gasps, and even with this her stomach spills blood—warm, thick, blackness that seeps through her fingers like a gulping wave that consumed all—painted her ebbing life, obscuring her vision, staining the white-furred bed.''Clarke—'' she chokes out once again, because she does not want to die, not yet, not right now
And euphoria blurs her mind. Runs through her veins; seeps through the recesses of her brain; and she sees them. Visions, at first. Images of her life; snippets that she could see, but out of her reach once she reached for them, long enough so she understood what they beheld.
Her mother, crying as Lexa were ripped away from her embrace, the Flamekeepers bringing Lexa to her destiny, she crying in kind, but tears, tears of joy, tears for her future had stained her cheeks that day. Loss, honour, brought by a day she would never forget for her life. Her, fighting in the Conclave, fighting for her life, fighting for her people all at once. For her birthright, for her people's pride, mixed with the insatiable need to win, to save herself, to survive. Her, meeting Costia, an emotion she didn't know spurring her heart. Love, vulnerability, but not a weakness—for she had coined it so, for far too long, till Costia herself pushed her away for believing so. Her, living, a life she'd never wanted but had needed for her people. And now, she was blessed with rest, a rest she didn't know she needed until the burden of the world was pushed from her shoulders, when she lay dying, dying, dead in a bed.
And she was no longer calling for Clarke, but for herself.
''My fight is over,'' and Lexa breathes in a small smile, because euphoria runs her mind and the exhaustion, the sheer exhaustion is so, so taxing. But she welcomes it. Happily. For her fight was over; her duty to her people paid in her blood; and she no longer had to fight.
She no longer had to fight. Not anymore. And as far as Commanders went, this was quite the painless way to go.
(At least, she thinks, and almost smiles again, there are my people waiting for me in the Afterlife. And maybe; if she wasn't so damn tired; maybe the next life. Maybe she'll get to meet Costia, and Clarke, and fall in love all over again.)
She was so tired. So exhausted. Exhausted from helping her people; exhausted from Azgeda's war; exhausted from her life and conflict and this life, this life as a Commander, and for a Heda, she was so, so tired.
And then...
And then...
''Lexa, can you hear me?'' A voice, an angel's voice, drew her out of her haze. Euphoria surged through her cells; and as she saw nothing but light, as though it was over, as though she was done, then pain, sheer unadulterated pain dragged her from her haven to a bitter hell like a demon's laugh.
And in that moment she saw nothing but painpainpain, pain that destroyed her euphoria and pain that echoed amid her wilted screams. The angel's voice a demons; her screams for the loss of salvation.''Lexa, stay with me, please. I need you to hang on. Need you to hang on long enough to save you. Please.''
Her mind stuffed with cotton; the euphoria receding away till she saw orange and frightened faces and all that voiced by a hoarse scream; she tried to shut herself out from this twisted reality, but nonono she was still alive and nonono there was no going back.''I'm going to perform emergency surgery, but I need you to stay still so I can minimalize the damage. Lexa, I'm so, so sorry. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay.''
Just let me die, her mind pleads as they turn her on her back and start to cut open her skin.
You're gonna be okay, is what laughs back instead.
Just let me die, the only words in a mind of jarring white, when every second of pain feels like an eternity of time.
You need to survive. You have to, is what the angel repeats, and she wonders if she can rip off the senseless masquerade.
Just let me die, a mantra she repeats as she grits her teeth and screams into the fur stained with her blood.
We're not done with you, the red demons smirk, a bitter grin on their warped faces.
Just let me die...
Death is not the end.
...
Lexa woke with a start.
Checked her surroundings. Shallow Valley. In her and Clarke's abode. Nothing to fear; at least, not yet. Checked her legs. Still unmoving, still unresponsive, still burning; but what did she expect? With a sigh, she cast a glance to Clarke, who was still sleeping soundly beside her. It had been a hard night; they had practically emptied their supplies from the lab, which meant she had to hunt enough food to keep them through the night. There was barely any food to scavenge, save for a few berries which they had for dinner. Never enough to fill their stomaches, but they still shared, with Clarke insisting on giving more to her.
Clarke deserved the sleep, no doubt. Without a word, taking her legs in one quick movement, Lexa flung her legs over the bedside and steadily moved into her wheelchair, ignoring the cramps from the previous night that flared in protest.
Suddenly, she heard a yawn come from beside her.''Awake?'' Clarke said, still yawning as she rubbed her eyes.
''Did I wake you?'' Lexa said quietly.''I did not mean to.''
Clarke, stretching herself while stifling another yawn, replied: ''Hey, it doesn't matter. Gotta wake up sometime anyway.'' Then, noticing Lexa already in her wheelchair, she noted: ''Lexa, you alright?''
Lexa shut her eyes, and tried to rid her nightmare from her mind. The first ten minutes after waking up is when people remember their dreams most clearly. She just had to ignore it and let her mind pass.
One part of her wanted to bite back at Clarke, to tell her that it was none of her concern and that they should just get on with the day, but instead she bit her lip and said: ''... yes, Clarke. I'm fine. Just a bad dream.''
Clarke nodded, and thankfully, she didn't ask Lexa to elaborate. Wouldn't want to, after all—why would Clarke want to know Lexa thought she were a demon in masquerade? It was just a dream, she reminded herself, but it felt all-too-real to be one.
Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, she wheeled herself out of their room. Approaching the counter, Lexa narrowed her eyes.''Didn't we have a pack of rations here the night before?''
Clarke shrugged, getting up as well.''Must've misplaced it.'' Thankfully, Lexa didn't notice the flash of confusion that passed over Clarke's eyes, before Clarke schooled her features. There was no way a ration packet could just disappear without notice. Trying to remember what happened to the missing ration packet proved a headache, especially after just waking up— did Clarke eat it for a snack? No way, she was careful with their food, and plus, she's still starving—
Clarke might have to count their rations later on again, even if it were to check for one missing package. Rubbing her eyes again, she groaned and moved towards the counter and opened the cupboard, where they placed their rations. Taking a packet, she put it on the counter, and quickly scanned over their leftover ration packets.
Lexa's humming was cut through by Clarke's exclamation. ''76.'' Fear passed over Clarke's eyes. ''Lexa, we had 168 ration packets when we arrived. There should be 110 left. Someone—some thing's stealing them.''
Clarke turned back to Lexa, as if desperately seeking for an explanation that didn't involve rabid mutant animals stealing their food. Uneasiness clouded over Lexa's features, until she cast her eyes down back to the ration packet, troubled. ''We are not alone.''
They ate their halves in silence.
