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Lexa’s eyes flutter open, but she closes them promptly, groaning as colourful fireworks explode behind her eyelids. She tries to shield her face from the light, but her limbs are heavy, her movements sluggish.
“She’s coming around,” a voice says. Clarke? She sounds as if she’s faraway. Everything’s hazy. Is this a dream? Lexa can feel people moving around her, where is she? Why can’t she wake up?
She tries to move her head, her arms. It must be working because the same voice says, “Don’t let her move too much.” Yes definitely Clarke. Lexa feels herself relax. She’s safe, she can sleep.
“I need more water. We need to keep her cool.”
Fire, Lexa realises, her skin is on fire. She tries to open her eyes again, claws at the rough cotton gown she’s wearing. A searing pain burns in her stomach, and she hears herself cry out.
“She’s panicking. I need something for the pain now!” Clarke orders. “Lexa can you hear me? You need to stay calm.”
She moans. Something cool is pressed to her forehead, her neck, her chest, and Lexa sighs in relief, the tension leaving her body all at once.
“You’re safe. We’re in Polis,” Clarke reassures her. “Sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
Lexa feels something prick her in the crook of her elbow, and she whimpers. She wants to ask what happened, but her brain is foggy. She’s drifting away.