Chapter Text
“And where the fuck do you think you're going?”
Lexa halted in the open doorway. She took a shaky breath, squaring her shoulders before turning back to find her stepfather standing at the other end of the hall, bleary-eyed and wearing his usual stain-covered white vest.
“I asked you a question.” His voice took on a slight edge as he took a few steps closer, an edge that made Lexa's skin crawl.
“I’m going out.”
His eyebrows raised a little. “Did I say you could go anywhere?”
Lexa's hands began to tremble.
“No. But I just thought—”
“You thought what? That you could sneak out and I just wouldn't notice? Do I look stupid to you?”
Before Lexa had a chance to consider her next words, they were already tumbling from her lips: “Do you really want me to answer that?”
Her stepfather's eyes bulged with rage and he strode forward, stopping with his face only millimetres away from Lexa's. His hands bunched into fists by his sides, skin stretched white across gnarled knuckles. “What the fuck did you say to me?”
He was close enough now that Lexa could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she shut her eyes as she turned her head away.
“Look at me, you little bitch,” he snarled, grabbing her jaw and forcing her eyes back to his.
“Sam, stop,” she whimpered, tears dripping down her cheeks.
He let out a mirthless laugh, violently squeezing Lexa's face before shoving her away from him. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Lexa bolted from the house, trying to hold in her sobs as she raced down the sidewalk and towards the city.
Fifteen minutes later and the sun was already setting by the time she reached the bar, the orange hues highlighting the bruises that had already begun to show on her tear-streaked face.
“Oh my god, Clarke, you are such a cheater!”
“Or maybe you’re just a sore loser?”
“Nope, you definitely cheated.”
“Whatever, Jas.”
“Bellamy, you saw her do it!”
“I didn’t see anything, sorry.”
“Raven?”
“I was too busy checking out my smoking hot girlfriend.”
“Octavia?”
“I was too busy being checked out.”
“I hate you all,” Jasper grumbled, tossing a crumpled twenty-dollar bill across the snooker table.
“Nice doing business with you,” Clarke smirked, snatching up the money and waving it in the air. “Who’s up for some shots?”
The air was filled with a chorus of whoops and yays, and Clarke laughed as she turned and made her way to the bar. It was peppered with the usual kinds of people who frequented this place – rough-looking groups clad in leather, girls with tattoos and boys with multi-coloured hair. It was a place where people didn’t have to fit a certain image – everyone was just there to drink and have a good time, which was why they all liked it so much.
Clarke drummed her fingers on the sticky bar top as she waited to be served. Eyes scanning the crowd, her gaze landed on someone; someone with wild curly hair that hid half her face, who had a vulnerability about her that made Clarke want to ask if she was okay. She looked so different from the regular types of people Clarke often saw there. But before she could think about the stranger anymore, Clarke’s attention was drawn back by the bartender, and a few minutes later she was sauntering back to her friends with a tray of shots and a massive grin on her face.
“Tequila? Why, Clarke?” Bellamy sighed.
“Because I like it and it’s my money to spend on whatever I want, that’s why.”
“Technically it’s my money,” Jasper muttered.
“Stop being so mopey, dude.”
“Octavia’s right.”
“Of course you’re agreeing with her, Raven.”
“If you had a girlfriend as beautiful as mine, you’d agree with her too.”
“Speaking of girlfriends, how’re you doing on that front, Jas?”
“Yeah, we get it, I’m perpetually alone. Rub it in, why don’t you?”
“Gladly.”
Clarke shoved into the middle of the group before things could get any more heated.
“Jasper, stop being such a downer. Raven, Octavia, stop winding him up. And Bellamy, go grab Murphy from over by the jukebox so we can have some god damn drinks!”
The tension was shattered then, and the group exchanged smiles before knocking back their first round of shots. The next few hours were filled with obnoxious singing and awful dancing and raucous laughter, and after more tequila and a couple of beers, Clarke’s head was the perfect balance of fuzzy and happy.
“Who’s up for more drinks?”
“Not me,” Bellamy groaned, head slumped over on the table. “I can’t—hic—can’t move.”
“Always such a lightweight, Bell,” Octavia laughed.
“A—hic—am not! No’ a lighweighhh.”
“I think it’s time to take you home, love,” Murphy smiled, slinging one of Bellamy’s arms over his shoulder before helping him to his feet. “Have fun, guys.”
“Bye, Murph!”
“See ya.”
Clarke waved the boys off before weaving her way through the ever–growing crowd of people, slotting herself in between a lanky boy with greasy hair and a petite Asian girl with a nose ring.
“Hey there, what can I get yo—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
The bartender’s head shot to the right at the same time as Clarke’s, who saw a burly woman glaring down at someone, her hand clamped around their arm. Someone with curly brown hair who was much smaller than the other woman. Clarke had just recognised her as the girl she noticed earlier when the woman shoved her; the girl’s tiny body shot backwards, crashing into the wall and sending a dartboard clattering to the floor. But this didn’t seem to dissuade her from going back. If anything, she seemed to be smiling through the pain.
With a wild gleam in her eye, she stalked back over to the woman, whose eyes widened in surprise before narrowing back into angry slits.
“Look, I already told you once. Fuck off.”
Clarke saw her clenched fists, saw the way her muscles tensed and her back arched slightly as she prepared to attack the girl again. And then she was shoving through the throngs of people, until she burst through and stumbled in between the two of them.
The woman frowned a little as Clarke came to a halt and turned to look up at her.
“And who are you?”
Clarke glanced back at the girl. She was cradling her left arm, a thin trickle of blood dripping down her temple from where she’d hit the wall. Then she returned to facing the woman, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to seem braver than she felt.
“Doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is why you’re attacking someone who’s three times smaller than you and why no one is doing anything to stop you.”
This made the woman laugh. “Look, missy. This ain’t your business. Just stay out of it.”
Clarke clenched her jaw. “No.”
Clarke heard the girl behind her take in a sharp breath.
“No?”
“You heard me.”
The woman moved closer to Clarke, sneering down at her. “You’re gonna regret that.”
Clarke tensed, ready for whatever pain she was about to endure. And then…
“Clarke, what the hell’s going on?!”
She had to fight to hide the sigh of relief that bloomed in her lungs as Octavia and Raven burst through the crowd, Jasper following in their wake with one of the security guards in tow. After a brief explanation and a hectic attempt to drag the angry woman out of the bar (another two security guards were needed), Clarke slumped onto one of the overstuffed barstools, head pounding.
“Jesus, Clarke. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t, really.”
Raven perched on the stool beside her, resting a hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “I really wish you didn’t have this innate need to save everybody, Griffin.”
Clarke scoffed. “It does get me into some awkward situations, that’s for sure.”
“You were great, though,” Octavia smiled. “I bet you’re that girl’s hero.”
Clarke’s head snapped up at the mention of the girl. Her eyes roved the bar until she spotted her slipping into the bathroom, arm still held stiffly against her body. “Y’know what? I’m just gonna go check on her, make sure she’s okay.”
Raven’s eyebrows twitched.
“Don’t. I’m just gonna see if she needs medical attention, that’s all.”
“Sure thing, Griff.”
She flicked at Raven's brace, rolling her eyes as the tan girl smirked at her.
“Want us to wait for you?” Octavia asked.
“Nah, that’s okay.”
“We gotta get going anyway. Need to drop Jasper off before his curfew ends.”
“It is not a curfew!”
“Well, what is it then?”
“My mom just likes me to be home at a reasonable hour,” he mumbled.
Clarke tugged on his sleeve. “Hey, Jas?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks for getting the security guard. You really had my back there.”
A grin broke out across his face. “No problem.”
She pulled him into a hug, murmuring “Seriously, thank you” into his ear before stepping back.
“So, we still on for movie night at yours on Friday?”
“You know it,” Raven grinned. “Gonna be a total horror fest.”
“We’re placing bets to see who’ll cry first.”
“My money’s on Murphy.”
“Nah, it’ll be Monty for sure.”
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and — bye, Clarke! — we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we…”
Clarke chuckled to herself as her friends left the bar, chugging the remainder of her beer before walking over to the toilets. She pushed the door open slowly, sticking her head in only to find it empty.
“Hello?”
At first, she heard nothing. Then, a quiet sniffle from the stall at the very end of the row.
Clarke let the door swing shut behind her as she walked over to the stall. She could see a battered pair of Converses under the door as she approached, and the owner of the sneakers shuffled further back as Clarke moved closer.
“Um, hey.”
Still no response.
“Sorry if I’m intruding. I, uh, I’m Clarke. The girl from earlier?”
Nothing.
“I know you don’t know me and you probably don’t want to talk to anyone right now, but I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
More silence.
“It looks like you hurt your arm. My mom’s a doctor, I could take you to see her if you’re in pain.”
Clarke let out a quiet sigh when she was met with nothing but empty air.
“Okay, well. Best of luck, or whatever.”
She retreated slowly, not wanting to disturb the strange tranquil aura that blanketed the bathroom. But she paused when a soft click came from behind her. Turning, she watched as the stall door creaked open and the Converse-clad girl walked out. He arms were wrapped around herself as she stared at Clarke, hair falling into her eyes so Clarke could barely see her face.
“Oh. Hi.”
The girl shuffled from one foot to the other.
“I’m Clarke. Griffin.”
A slight nod.
“Do you—how’s your arm doing?”
The girl shrugged. The movement jogged her hair a little and Clarke caught a flash of red.
“Oh fuck, you’re bleeding too. I totally forgot about that. Here, let me—”
Clarke had rushed over to the girl without even thinking about it and the brunette shrunk back, burrowing further behind her curtain of hair as Clarke froze in front of her.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking.”
Clarke grabbed some tissues, walking over to the sinks and wetting them a little.
“Here. Hold this to your head.”
The girl hesitated before taking the tissues, using her other hand to tuck her hair behind her ears. Then she lifted her eyes to Clarke’s and the blonde couldn’t hold back the gasp that whooshed out of her like air leaving a balloon. The girl had the most captivating eyes that Clarke had ever seen – emerald green like the sea and full of a deep pain that wrenched at her heart. And then she looked away and the moment was gone, Clarke awkwardly playing with her watch strap as the girl dabbed at her temple.
“So, um, your arm…”
The girl took a shaky breath before meeting Clarke’s worried gaze.
“Hurts, I guess.”
Clarke was taken aback by the gentleness of her voice. It was the kind of voice that belonged to tinkering glasses and soft chimes, a voice that seemed to tiptoe out from the girl’s throat and rest delicately on her lips.
“Well, I can take you to the hospital, if you’d like. My mom’s working tonight, I could get her to take a look at it for you.”
Worry flitted across the girl’s face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”
Clarke could hear something in her voice, something that made Clarke think that kindness wasn’t something that was often afforded to this girl.
“It’s no problem at all. We can get a taxi there.”
The girl nodded, still trembling a little as she inspected the blood-flecked tissue she had been holding to her head. Clarke reached over and grabbed a couple more dry tissues, holding her hand out to the girl but staying a few paces away.
“May I…?”
A moment of silence passed between them and then the girl gave a shaky nod. Clarke closed the space between them, gently pushing the girl’s hair out of the way before wiping away the excess blood from around the wound.
“This doesn’t seem too bad. Just a scrape,” Clarke nodded, “But we should still get my mom to take a look. Make sure you don’t have a concussion or anything.”
Clarke’s fingers rested on the nape of the girl’s neck as she finished cleaning her up. Then came a moment when their eyes connected once again and the room seemed to narrow until all they could see was each other, and then the girl twisted out from under Clarke’s touch and retreated, creating space between them once again.
“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…”
But the girl refused to meet Clarke’s gaze and the blonde sighed defeatedly, tossing the tissues into the trash before picking up the girl’s rucksack for her.
“Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
The girl followed slowly behind until they were stood outside the bar. Five minutes later and their taxi pulled up, Clarke holding open the passenger door for the brunette. She whispered “thanks” before getting in, curling in on herself and staring out of the window.
The drive to the hospital was a quiet one, the radio chattering softly in the background. Clarke considered trying to start a conversation, but had a feeling she wasn’t going to get very far in their current situation. So, she opted for tuneless humming and finger drumming on the window instead. A moment passed where Clarke was sure she caught the girl with a tiny smile on her face, but she brushed it off as a trick of the light.
They pulled into the hospital parking lot twenty minutes later, Clarke paying the driver before stepping out of the taxi and falling in-step with the girl as they approached the hospital entrance.
“I get the impression that you don’t really like talking to people, but I just need you to tell me one thing before we go in.”
The brunette’s eyes widened with apprehension.
“…Your name?”
Clarke saw relief flood the girl’s face. She scuffed her shoe against the sidewalk, picking at a fraying thread on her jeans before muttering something into her chest. Clarke’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Gonna have to be a bit louder than that, I’m afraid.”
The girl took a deep breath before glancing up at Clarke.
“Lexa. My name’s Lexa.”
“Lexa.”
The girl nodded.
“That’s a beautiful name,” Clarke smiled.
This time Clarke could clearly see the hint of a smile that tugged at Lexa’s lips, and she patted her once on the arm before gesturing to the hospital doors with a flick of her head.
“Come on then. In we go.”
Lexa nodded, moving to hoist her rucksack onto her shoulder.
“Fuck,” she hissed, wincing as she held her arm to her chest.
“Here, let me,” Clarke murmured, taking the bag from Lexa's limp fingers.
They walked through the large sliding doors and into the brightly-lit reception area.
“Hey, Rhi.”
“Hi, Clarke,” the young receptionist smiled.
“Is my mother around?”
“Mhmm. She’s just finishing up her rounds. Want me to page her and tell her you’re here?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Clarke led Lexa over to the seating area. Lexa slumped into the plastic seat with a pained sigh while Clarke perched on the edge of hers.
“So…”
Clarke’s head jerked up, surprised to hear Lexa speak again.
“Has your mom worked here long?”
“About four years now.”
Lexa nodded contemplatively. “So what does your mom d—”
“Clarke! Honey, are you okay?” Abby Griffin came rushing over, crouching beside Clarke as her eyes flitted over Clarke’s face.
“Yeah, mom. I’m fine.”
“Thank goodness.”
“I do have someone here who needs some help, though.”
Abby peered around Clarke, meeting Lexa’s frightened gaze.
“Oh. And who’s this?”
“This is Lexa.”
Clarke helped her to her feet, smiling reassuringly at her before looking back at her mother.
“Lexa,” Abby nodded. “I’m Dr Griffin.”
Lexa mumbled a shy “Hello”, leaning against Clarke a little as her head began to pound.
“She’s had a pretty rough day, mom.” Worry had crept into Clarke’s voice.
Lexa let out a whine as pain shot through her arm and across her torso; Clarke snaked an arm around her waist to steady her. Abby’s eyes softened.
“Okay, then. Let’s see what we can do for you, Lexa.” She motioned for them to follow her, nodding at Lexa supportively before leading them into an examination room. Lexa halted in the doorway as Clarke hung back in the hall.
“I can’t come in with you, I’m sorry. Hospital rules.” Clarke’s heart twisted and she watched apologetically as Lexa walked slowly into the room, panic etched onto her face. “I’ll be right here as soon as you’re done. I promise.”
Then the door swung shut and Clarke was left alone, worry and confusion swirling around her brain as she slid down the wall and sat opposite the examination room door. For some reason, she cared about what happened to Lexa. She was worried about this frail, strange girl she knew nothing about, and she had no idea why.
Now all she could do was wait. Wait, and hope that maybe there’d come a time when Lexa would no longer have the ghost of a smile on her face; but rather, a spark of life in those sea-green eyes.