Chapter Text
“God, Raven, how did we even end up here?” Clarke sighed, her feet in the other girl’s lap, one arm flung over the back of the couch, the other propped on the armrest behind her.
“Here as in 'on my ratty couch in my shitty apartment with our legs tangled together', or Here as in 'friends-with-occasional-benefits, who were both screwed over by the same dickhead'?” Asked Raven in reply, her left hand resting on Clarke’s legs, her right clutching a beer bottle that was closer to empty than full.
“Well...” Clarke drawled, snagging her own beer off the floor, “I was meaning the more existential part of that, where, you know, the universe decided to bring us together by breaking our hearts, but I suppose I wouldn’t mind an explanation for the couch.”
Raven huffed a laugh, and held her bottle out for Clarke to clink hers against, in an undedicated toast.
“I guess the world decided that we were each too good for that fucker, and ought to have each other instead.” Raven ran a finger up Clarke’s left foot, causing the girl’s toes to curl. “As for the couch, well, I may be brilliant, but I don’t have a high-dollar job yet, and you have a roommate, so, here we are.” She swept her beer around dramatically, drawing a small smile from the blonde.
The TV murmured in the background, and they girls let a sleepy quiet reign for a few moments.
“We need to get out of this hell-hole, Raven.” Announced a rather somber Clarke suddenly, and she swallowed the last of her drink, before dropping the bottle back to the floor, and swinging herself up into a sitting position.
“Where are you going.” Raven sighed, though she was already spreading out into the space that Clarke had vacated.
“I don’t know,” Clarke said, even as she stood, “water, another beer, something.”
Raven followed Clarke into the kitchen a minute later, and found her at the sink, staring at her reflection in the dark window. Clarke turned when she heard her friend’s shuffling, the darker girl’s gait hampered by the knee injury that had introduced them six months previously.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t work in a hospital. I can’t save lives when I see my father’s face in every patient.”
Raven held out her arms and Clarke walked into her embrace.
“Then don’t go back Clarke, don’t go in tomorrow, tell them you’re done. It’s not washing out when it’s making you dead inside. It’s protecting yourself, it’s living. Something I’m pretty sure your father would rather have you do, instead of wasting away.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and Raven was certain that Finn had been in her place before she and Clarke had realized his infidelities.
“Finn never said that,” Clarke mumbled into Raven’s shoulder, “he always told me to push through, said things would get better.”
Well, this was a different script. And apparently Finn had been in her shoes, but hadn’t been what Clarke needed. That, at least, was no surprise.
Raven squeezed tighter for a moment, and then took a step back, placing her hands on Clarke’s shoulders.
“Clarke, you have to make things better, you have to make the changes that need to be made. We kicked Finn out of our lives, don’t continue to live by his advice.”
Clarke nodded- dry-eyed, Raven was glad to note.
“I know, Raven, it’s just, I can’t… I don’t know how to do it. I can’t just up and leave a profession I put ten years of education towards. I can’t bail on a field that-”
“Clarke, stop.” Raven shook her once, “Stop it. This isn’t healthy. You cannot keep doing this. You’re going to kill yourself like this.”
Clarke took a shuddering breath, and nodded, “What do I do though? Where can I go from here? I don’t know anything other than medicine.”
Raven shook her head, “You know art. You know people. You know science. Go back to school, get a studio, do something that you want to do.”
“You think I should?” Clarke asked, her voice wavering with uncertainty.
“Clarke, we can’t keep having this same conversation. You need to get your life back. And you need to do it now.”
“Okay, you’re right. You are. I know.” Clarke agreed half-heartedly, her head drooping onto Raven’s forearm.
“Good,” Raven said, stepping back into the hug, “and don’t you forget it.”