Chapter Text
Don’t be scared Clarke. Don’t be scared Clarke. She thinks to herself as a chill takes over her body. She remembers Clarke’s warm lips on hers before the room darkened, though she doesn’t recall closing her eyes. I love you Clarke.
∞
Focusing from a deep slumber, she groggily scans the room; white and sterile. The rays of bright lights from overhead tubes stings her eyes and she has to reclose them, feeling particularly disoriented like she had been drugged or poisoned. Lexa takes in a deep breath and swallows. She’s parched, but mostly overwhelmed trying to regain her bearings and recollect her memories. Titus shot me. I was in Clarke’s room, with Clarke, in Polis.
Lexa reopens her eyes, more slowly this time and continues to examine her surroundings: white sheets, a glass window looking into an even paler hallway, white curtains, and a very annoying beeping instrument next to her. Regaining sensation in her fingertips, Lexa lifts her arm to find a needle inserted in her wrists. What is this? She’s apprehensive, until she looks past the needle and tube, her eyes landing on a beautiful blonde curled up in a tan woven blanket and sleeping on a couch next to the bed. Clarke.
“Clar..” Lexa tries to speak up, but there is an unbearable pain in her stomach. The gunshot wound, it severed her abdominal muscles and she’s barley able to contract her diaphragm for a one syllable word. Mustering her strength, Lexa tries again.
“Clarke?”
This time, she’s able to get Clarke to stir and Clarke opens her mesmerizing blue eyes, filled with love and relief. Although... something looks off about Clarke that Lexa can quite pinpoint. Lexa wonders how long she had been asleep. Days? Dare weeks? Because Clarke’s hair has been cut, shorter and dye reddish-pink much like the day when Roan has brought Clarke to Polis.
“Oh my god, Lexa!” Clarke sits up and quickly makes her way to the bedside, she leans in and gently hugs Lexa’s head.
Lexa tries to speak up, but she’s still unable to.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” says Clarke, looking into Lexa’s eyes. Clarke furrows her brow in a flash of mistake. It’s still Lexa, except there’s something off in her girlfriend’s eyes. Something foreign. Clarke dismisses it, and grabs a cup of water.
“Here, you’re probably thirsty,” says Clarke, holding the cup of water up to Lexa’s dry and cracked lips.
Lexa takes a few sips and pain sears across her abdomen as she swallows, but she ignores it. She’s been through worse before and thinks back to her conclave, the endless battles, clan wars, disputes with Azgeda, and now the blockade on Arkadia.
Clarke places a kiss on Lexa’s cheek.
“I’m going to get my mom, okay? To check on you, I’ll be right back.”
Before Lexa is able to ask Clarke to stay, Clarke is gone. Rescanning the room, Lexa can now make out additional details. The needle in her wrist is filled with some sort of clear liquid, tech next to her, like something from Mount Weather. But Mount Weather was destroyed weeks ago, by Azgeda. Lexa considers maybe she’s in the Arkadia, but that doesn’t seem quite right either. Lexa pulls the needle from her wrist, startled to see that the end of the needle is tinged dark red instead of her usual nightblood.
What is going on?
Before Lexa can give the color of her blood further thought, Clarke reenters with her mother, Abby.
“Lexa, good to see you’re up. Much faster than expected, you’re strong,” says Abby, “Hm, looks like your IV fell out.”
Abby picks up the needle and takes Lexa’s hand. Lexa quickly retracts but Abby looks at her reassuringly. “It’s okay Lexa, they’re just some fluids.”
Nodding, Lexa lets Abby reinsert the needle.
“I’m just going to take a look at your eyes, okay?” says Abby.
Lexa nods again and Abby leans in with a small flashlight, uncomfortably shining it directly into Lexa’s eyes.
“Pupils and reflexes look good, can you move your feet, your toes Lexa?”
Looking down at her feet, Lexa wiggles her toes.
“Great,” say Abby.
Abby stands and walks to the beeping machine, pressing a few buttons and writing something down.
“Lexa, can you tell me what date it is today? Or the last date you remember,” asks Abby.
Date? What does she mean by date? Lexa shakes her head. No. There’s slight worry in Abby’s eyes.
“Okay, what about, the president. Do you know who our current president is?”
President? Lexa shakes her head again. No. That’s when she hears a sniffle from Clarke, looking over, she sees a tear fall from Clarke’s eyes.
“Clarke?” says Lexa.
Except, Abby responds, “That’s a good sign, you know who Clarke is. Do you know who I am?”
Lexa nods, clearing her scratchy throat and pushing past her abdominal pain, “Yes. You’re Abby, Clarke’s mother.”
“Good, sweetie. What about the last thing you remember?”
Lexa nods again, “Yes. I was shot,” and looks back at Clarke, “Clarke was there.”
“Good, very good,” replies Abby, except she steps aside, “Clarke, can I see you for a minute?”
Clarke and Abby step outside the door, except Lexa can see them through the glass window. They’re debating about something with arms waving and an offset body distance, Clarke is still crying. The blonde she holds in such regard, crying. Don’t cry Clarke. Abby leaves and Clarke reenters.
“Hey…” says Clarke quietly, walking over to sit by Lexa’s bedside, “You should probably rest some more.”
“Clarke, why are you crying?” asks Lexa, raising her hand to gently caress Clarke’s cheek and wiping a tear away with the pad of her thumb.
“Um, my mom said you might have some… some brain damage, from the blood loss. Your memory.”
Lexa shakes her head, “I don’t understand, I remember everything.”
“Lexa, you don’t even know the date or president.”
“I don’t know what that means. Clarke, where are we?”
“We’re at the Annapolis Medical Center.”
“Where in Polis?” asks Lexa, raising an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the terms Clarke just said.
“Annapolis.”
“You mean Polis.”
“No, I’m saying Annapolis,” and that’s when Clarke breaks into another set of tears.
Lexa feels incredibly powerless, watching Clarke cry.
“Please don’t cry Clarke. I’m here,” says Lexa as she offers her arm up for Clarke to lay down.
Clarke nods, gently laying down next to Lexa on the hospital bed.
“I love you Lexa,” says Clarke familiarly, like she’s said it a thousand times.
Slightly taken aback by Clarke’s casual use of the words, Lexa pauses for just a moment before returning the gesture, “I love you too, Clarke.”