Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My theory centers around moments—moments of impact. I believe these intense flashes, these pivotal events that shake our lives to the core, are the ones that truly shape who we are. The truth is, each of us is the accumulation of every moment we've ever lived and every person we've ever encountered. It’s these moments that form our personal history—our own collection of greatest hits, replayed in our minds time and time again.

The moment of impact holds the potential for change. It creates ripples far beyond what we can foresee, sending particles colliding, some drawing closer together, others spiraling off into new paths. These moments can take us to places we never imagined. The thing about such moments is that, no matter how hard you try, you can't control how they will affect you. You have to let the pieces fall where they may, and wait for the next collision—the promise of something new.

…

It was winter, and they had just come out of the movies. As they stepped outside, they noticed the snow blanketing the streets, a soft white cover over everything.

"Wow, it barely looked like an inch when we went in," Lexa said, a smile on her face.

"It's so beautiful," Clarke replied, pulling Lexa closer to her. They’d been together for over four years, and everything had been perfect between them. A year ago, they moved in together, and Clarke never once doubted the choice she made. She had no regrets.

"It really is," Lexa agreed, smiling before leaning down to plant a kiss on Clarke's head. "We should head out if we want to get home before the roads get too icy."

"You're right. Let’s go," Clarke said, nodding in agreement. They walked toward their car, where Clarke slid into the passenger seat, and Lexa began scraping the ice off the windshield. Clarke watched her through the front window, waving at her. "That's good, come on in."

Lexa climbed into the car, grinning. "I’m freezing," she said, her face flushed from the cold.

"Come here, you," Clarke said, taking Lexa’s hand and holding it tight. "Maybe this will help," she teased.

Lexa leaned in for a quick kiss, then started the car and pulled away. As they drove, Lexa turned on the radio and their favorite song came on—"Just a Kiss" by Lady Antebellum.

"I know you love this song, Clarke," Lexa teased, glancing at her.

"Damn, you're right. I do," Clarke laughed. Lexa knew her so well, and that was one of the things Clarke loved most about her. No matter what, Lexa was always there for her. Their connection had been instant when they met four years ago, and it had only grown stronger since. Now, they were inseparable.

Lexa began to sing along with the song, her voice lighthearted. "Lyin' here with you, so close to me. It's hard to fight these feelings. When it feels so hard to breathe. Caught up in this moment. Caught up in your smile."

"You do not like this song," Clarke teased, smiling at her.

Lexa laughed and sang louder, "I've never opened up to anyone. So hard to hold back, when I’m holding you in my arms. We don’t need to rush this. Let’s just take it slow."

"You have to turn it off," Clarke said through a grin, enjoying how happy Lexa looked.

"I’m not turning it off," Lexa said, still singing.

Lexa began rocking with the rhythm of the song, and Clarke couldn’t stop laughing. "I’ll make you dinner for a week if you stop."

Lexa stopped singing only when the car came to a halt at a red light.

Clarke turned to face her, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have a theory," she said, leaning in. "People never break up when they, you know, get it on in their car."

Lexa raised an eyebrow, surprised. "What?"

Clarke, with a playful smile, unbuckled her seatbelt before leaning in to kiss her. Both of them fell into the moment, the world outside forgotten.

…

Lexa was so distracted that she didn't see the truck barreling toward them at full speed. The trucker couldn't stop in time and slammed into the car with terrifying force. The front windshield shattered on impact, and Clarke was violently thrown from her seat, crashing through the broken glass. She landed on the hood, her head striking the glass with a sickening force. Both women were knocked unconscious in an instant.

The trucker rushed out of his vehicle and called 911 as quickly as he could. Emergency services arrived in a flurry of activity, doing their best to respond as fast as possible.

Clarke was severely injured and rushed to the hospital. Lexa was hurt too, both of them unconscious as the paramedics transported them to the ER. Their injuries were grave, and both were taken into surgery.

The next thing Lexa remembered was waking up in the hospital, the sterile white walls around her a blur. Her mind flashed back to the moment when she first met Clarke. It was one of her most cherished memories, a moment that had stayed with her through the years, and now, more than ever, she clung to it.

…

Flashback

Lexa walked into City Hall to get a new driver's license after losing hers during a trip to Canada. As she stood in line, she noticed a woman in front of her—Clarke. Her striking blue eyes seemed to light up the entire room, and Lexa was instantly captivated by her beauty. When Clarke finished and started to walk away, Lexa couldn’t help but glance at her one last time. Clarke turned and smiled at her, and Lexa smiled back. It wasn’t love at first sight, but there was undeniable chemistry between them, a magnetic pull that neither of them could ignore.

As luck would have it, their paths crossed again just minutes later. After receiving her new license, Lexa stepped outside City Hall to head to her car. She spotted the blonde woman again, waiting on the curb for a cab. Without thinking twice, Lexa walked over to her.

“Hey,” Lexa said politely.

Clarke turned around, recognition lighting up her face. “Hello, stranger,” she replied, flashing a smile that made Lexa’s heart skip a beat.

“I see you’re waiting for a cab?” Lexa asked.

Clarke nodded. “Yeah, I need to get home, but it looks like it's going to be a while before another one shows up. I had an appointment, but it looks like I’m going to have to cancel.”

“I can give you a ride home, if you want,” Lexa offered, feeling a bit embarrassed but hopeful.

Clarke raised an eyebrow, teasing. “I don’t even know you.”

Lexa couldn’t help but grin. “But you will, if you come with me,” she winked.

Clarke’s smile widened. “Alright,” she said with a laugh.

Lexa motioned for Clarke to follow her, leading the way to her car. She opened the passenger door for Clarke before walking around to the driver’s side. Once inside, she buckled her seatbelt and started the engine, glancing over at Clarke.

“I’m Clarke, by the way,” Clarke said with a warm smile.

Lexa turned to meet her gaze. Clarke’s ocean-blue eyes were mesmerizing, and Lexa felt like she could get lost in them. “Nice to meet you, Clarke. I’m Lexa,” she replied, her voice soft.

“That’s a beautiful name,” Clarke said, her voice light.

“Thank you. Same to you. Is it okay if I turn on the radio?” Lexa asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Clarke smiled.

“Alright. So, where should I take you?” Lexa asked, her curiosity piqued.

Clarke hesitated for a moment. “Well, I was supposed to go home for an appointment, but they just canceled. So, I’m free.”

“What are you saying, Clarke?” Lexa teased, sensing the playful energy between them.

“I think we owe it to ourselves to get a drink… out of respect for fate,” Clarke said, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

Lexa grinned. “Okay, I know just the place.”

Lexa drove them to a charming little coffee shop, one owned by her uncle, Gustus. She’d spent a lot of time there as a kid, and her uncle was one of the most important people in her life. When they arrived at the cafe, there was an immediate connection between them, something unspoken but clear. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and it wasn’t long before they started dating. Their bond was undeniable, and from that moment, Lexa knew she’d found someone special.

…

It wasn’t long before Lexa was discharged from the hospital. She had been unconscious for several days after the accident, but the doctors reassured her that she’d recover in time. Lexa’s body ached, her head throbbed from the injuries, but she was told everything would heal with some rest.

Her heart, however, was a different story. That was still broken, heavy with worry. Clarke was in far worse shape.

The doctor had just explained Clarke’s condition in a sterile, detached manner.

“Your girlfriend’s CT scan showed intracranial hemorrhaging,” he said, his voice calm but serious. “We purposely keep patients with traumatic brain injuries in a comatose state to stabilize them. It helps calm their systems and gives the brain time to heal while the swelling subsides. After that, we slowly start waking them up. We can never fully assess the damage until they wake. Some people heal, some don’t.”

Lexa barely heard the last words. The only thing that pierced through the haze of her own thoughts was "some don't." Her chest tightened as those words echoed in her mind.

She had to swallow hard to keep her composure, but the weight of the situation hit her all over again. She looked at the doctor, but she didn’t really see him. Her mind was elsewhere—at the hospital room where Clarke lay unconscious, fighting for her life.

“Is… is there anything we can do?” Lexa’s voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear she’d been holding back.

The doctor gave a sympathetic look. “Right now, just be there for her. We’ll monitor her, and we’ll know more as she wakes up. But I won’t lie to you, it’s a waiting game.”

A waiting game. Lexa clenched her fists in her lap, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to fight the rising panic. Every second felt like a lifetime.

Lexa had been through so much in her life, but this— this —was different. The thought of losing Clarke was unbearable. They had shared so much, built something so real, and now, it was all hanging in the balance. The idea of not being able to do anything to save her— not being able to protect her —was a weight she couldn’t carry.

She stood up, her legs unsteady beneath her, and thanked the doctor, but she couldn’t hear the rest of his words. She needed to be by Clarke’s side.

With a shaky breath, Lexa left the room. She walked down the sterile, white hallway, each step feeling like a challenge. When she reached Clarke’s room, her heart caught in her throat. Clarke was lying motionless in the bed, an array of machines keeping track of her every breath, every heartbeat.

“Clarke…” Lexa whispered softly, her voice cracking.

She pulled the chair next to the bed, sitting beside her, and took Clarke’s cold hand in hers. Her heart ached as she stared at the blonde woman, looking so fragile, so vulnerable.

“I’m here, baby,” Lexa said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not going anywhere. You have to wake up… please.” She gently kissed Clarke’s hand, holding on to the faint hope that she would open her eyes and smile at her again.

Lexa’s mind raced as she replayed the moments before the accident over and over. The sound of the truck. Clarke’s smile. The warmth of her hand. How could everything change so suddenly? How could she go from feeling so happy, so alive, to this cold, terrifying stillness?

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, focusing instead on Clarke’s soft breathing. "You’re going to be okay. I know you will. You have to be."

She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against Clarke's. "I love you. Please come back to me."

…

Days passed, and Clarke remained in a comatose state, her still body lying motionless in the hospital bed. Lexa never left her side. She was there every single day, sitting by her, holding her hand, and whispering soft words of encouragement in the hopes that Clarke would hear her. But with each visit, the weight of the situation became harder to bear.

Every time Lexa looked at her, she was reminded of the life they’d shared—of the way Clarke’s laughter could light up a room, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, how her touch felt like home. And now? Now, everything was so uncertain. The thought that it might never be the same again made Lexa feel like she was suffocating. Her stomach twisted in knots at the idea that she might lose the woman she loved so deeply.

But then, a week later, the doctors told her that Clarke was ready to be woken up. Lexa barely heard anything the doctor said. Her only focus was on Clarke, on that precious moment when she might open her eyes again.

“She’s going to be a little out of it, so give her time,” the doctor said gently.

Lexa nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, her breath caught in her throat. She was so close to Clarke now, so close to having her back.

And then, just as the doctor finished speaking, Clarke’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, it’s so good to see you,” Lexa breathed out, relief flooding through her. She leaned forward, her voice trembling with emotion.

Clarke’s gaze was unfocused at first, but then it sharpened slightly. “My head... it hurts,” she murmured, her voice weak and groggy.

“That’s perfectly normal,” the doctor said, trying to reassure her.

Clarke’s eyes scanned the room, confusion flickering across her face. She blinked, taking in the unfamiliar setting. “Was anyone else hurt, doctor?” she asked, her voice filled with worry.

Lexa’s heart dropped as she watched Clarke’s confusion grow. “Clarke?” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You know who I am, right?”

Clarke turned her gaze toward Lexa, but there was no recognition in her eyes. It was like she was looking right through her. “Uhm…” Clarke’s brow furrowed, as if trying to process something. “I’m your girlfriend?” Lexa asked, her voice quivering with worry.

But Clarke only looked at her with confusion, her eyes still distant. Lexa’s chest tightened. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the Clarke she knew.

“Clarke?” Lexa whispered, her voice breaking. “Please... please remember me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Clarke blinked, still unsure of who Lexa was. It was like she was a stranger. The panic gripped Lexa’s chest, and her eyes filled with tears. She stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening.

The doctor noticed her distress. “Lexa, it’s going to take time,” he said softly, trying to calm her.

But Lexa couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Clarke looking at her like she was nobody. She turned abruptly, walking out of the room, her heart breaking with each step.

The doctor followed her, his voice gentle as he tried to explain. “Brain injuries aren’t predictable,” he said. “Due to the swelling, some memory loss can be temporary. She just needs time.”

“Some memory loss?!” Lexa’s voice was filled with frustration, tears threatening to spill. “She doesn’t remember me, damn it! She doesn’t remember me! ” Her voice cracked as she tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free.

The doctor stepped forward, trying to explain more, but Lexa couldn’t hear him anymore. She felt like the ground had been ripped from under her, like everything she’d built with Clarke was slipping through her fingers. Without saying another word, she turned away from him and walked down the hallway, her steps quick and shaky.

The pain in her chest was unbearable. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She just needed to get out.

She stormed out of the hospital, ignoring the doctor’s calls as she disappeared into the night. The cold air hit her like a slap, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that Clarke—the woman she loved—didn’t remember her. And Lexa didn’t know if she could handle it.

Chapter Text

Flashback

"I have one piece. One piece. It’s not happening. Oh my god, I’m going to have to call them and tell them I can’t do it," Clarke said, her voice laced with worry.

"You’re going to be fine, Clarke," Lexa reassured her, offering a supportive smile. She knew how talented her girlfriend was, and she believed in her completely.

Lexa reached over and grabbed a piece of clay from the table where Clarke was working, molding it into the shape of a crab's claw. "Come to bed with me," she said teasingly, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Clarke, still stressed, glanced at the ridiculous crab claw Lexa had made, fighting to suppress a smile. She had to keep herself together. "No, I can’t," Clarke said, trying to focus on her work.

Lexa leaned closer, her voice playful as she teased, "Come on. I know you want to go to bed with me." She closed the distance between them, her smile wide and inviting.

Clarke shook her head, laughing despite herself. "No, I really can’t," she insisted, though she was already melting under Lexa’s attention.

Lexa chuckled and leaned in to kiss Clarke's neck, causing her to lose her balance and tumble off her chair onto the floor. "Don’t," Clarke laughed, trying to push her away.

Without missing a beat, Lexa began tickling Clarke, sending her into fits of giggles as she rolled on the floor. "Stop it!" Clarke gasped between laughs, her body writhing from the tickling.

"Okay, okay," Lexa said, stepping back and giving Clarke some space. She looked at the sculpture on the table. "I think this one’s coming along fine," she said with a smile. "I mean, I know it’s not finished, but I’m already starting to see a mood. It’s got this darkening curtain effect, and then this competing light element here," she explained, gesturing at the clay sculpture.

"Mhhmm," Clarke hummed, biting back another laugh at Lexa’s serious tone.

"It’s abstract, but I think it’s already powerful," Lexa continued, sounding thoughtful and proud of her observation.

Clarke, unable to keep it together any longer, started giggling softly. Lexa raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What?" she asked, looking at her girlfriend.

Clarke’s grin widened. "You totally love me," she said, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Lexa blushed, her heart skipping a beat. "Yeah, I do," she nodded, her voice soft but certain.

Clarke’s smile grew even wider. "Yeah, I know," she said teasingly. "Because this is my piece." She turned around, picking up the clay sculpture she had set aside on the scrap pile.

Lexa’s eyes widened in embarrassment. "That’s the scrap pile, which I’m now saving," Clarke added with a grin, her tone playful.

Lexa felt a blush creep onto her face, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Hmm," she mumbled, feeling a little flustered.

Clarke stepped forward, leaning in to kiss Lexa on the lips, her smile never fading. They shared a tender kiss before Clarke flopped onto the ground, laughing softly. Lexa followed her, kissing her again, the warmth of their affection filling the room.

…

Lexa had spent the past few days in the hospital, barely leaving Clarke's side. She had barely slept, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. She prayed for a miracle, something to bring Clarke back to her fully.

She had dozed off in the waiting room, curled up in a chair when she suddenly felt a light poke in her back. She groggily opened her eyes and blinked a few times.

"Hi," Lexa mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

Clarke smiled softly, her eyes still holding a hint of confusion. "What are you up to?"

"Sleeping," Lexa said, rubbing her eyes. Then, with a quiet, concerned tone, she added, "I brought you some clothes."

"Uhm, thank you," Clarke replied, her gaze steady as she looked at Lexa, trying to make sense of everything. Clarke sat down on the back of the couch where Lexa had been, staring at her as though waiting for something to click.

"Uhm... I’m kind of hungry," Clarke said, her voice quiet but sincere.

Lexa’s heart fluttered at the sound of her girlfriend's voice, relieved to hear something so normal. She smiled at Clarke, glad she still had her appetite. "Okay," she said, standing up and gathering the bags she’d brought. "Come on."

The two of them made their way down the hospital hallway, the sterile white walls seeming to close in on them. They entered the cafeteria, where a buffet line awaited, filled with lukewarm options. Lexa filled her plate absentmindedly as she looked over at Clarke, who was standing beside her, looking uncertain.

"So," Clarke began, breaking the silence, "I just wanted to verify a few things with you. About me... about us." She shifted awkwardly, her eyes not quite meeting Lexa's.

"Great," Lexa said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. She smiled at Clarke, though she could feel the tension in the air. "Ask away."

They both continued to load their plates with food, the sounds of clinking cutlery and quiet chatter filling the space around them.

"So, we're dating?" Clarke asked, her voice small and hesitant, as if she weren’t sure if she was allowed to ask such a question.

"Yes," Lexa nodded firmly. "Yeah." She smiled warmly at Clarke, trying to reassure her.

Clarke shifted uncomfortably, still unsure. "And... I have weird hair," she added, the corner of her mouth turning down slightly.

Lexa couldn’t help but laugh softly at her girlfriend’s self-consciousness. "I think that’s a narrow view," she teased gently. "You told me you didn’t want to spend much time on your hair because you’d rather spend it in your studio."

"My studio?" Clarke’s brows furrowed, confusion evident in her voice. "Why do I have a studio?"

Lexa took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She paused for a moment, unsure how to navigate this conversation. Finally, she spoke softly, trying to make sense of it all. "You’re an artist, Clarke. A sculptor. A really good one."

Clarke blinked at her, her expression blank as she processed the words. "I... don’t understand," she muttered, shaking her head. "What do you mean? None of this makes sense."

Lexa watched Clarke carefully, trying to offer some kind of reassurance. She gently tried to ease the tension by changing the subject, hoping to make things feel more normal. "Right now, you’re working on four pieces for a hotel lobby," she said. "It's huge. Everyone in town wanted that commission."

Clarke's eyes remained blank, though she nodded slowly. But it was clear she didn’t care about the art pieces, didn’t care about any of it. She was still lost. "But what about my law degree?" she asked, the question hanging in the air.

Lexa felt a pit form in her stomach. She didn’t know how to answer. "Uhm..." she mumbled, looking away for a moment. "I think you were a few credits shy," she said quietly, unsure if it would even make sense to Clarke.

Clarke looked at her, stunned, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I don’t have a law degree?" she asked, her voice rising with surprise and hurt.

Lexa avoided her gaze, her hands shaking as she continued to stack her plate with bacon. "I think you were close. But... you didn’t finish."

Clarke stared at her, her chest tight with confusion and frustration. She took a few steps back from the table, trying to make sense of everything Lexa had just said. The world felt like it was spinning. "Last time I wanted to be an artist... was in high school," she scoffed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Lexa felt her heart crack hearing the doubt and confusion in Clarke’s voice. She could feel the walls between them growing, but she refused to let that distance linger. She couldn’t.

"Clarke," Lexa started softly, her voice a little hoarse. "It’s okay. You don’t have to remember everything all at once. We’ll take it slow, okay? We’ll figure it out together."

But Clarke only looked away, lost in her own mind, trying to make sense of a reality that no longer seemed to fit.

…

Lexa stepped into their friends' home after the exhausting hospital visit, her body feeling heavy with exhaustion and her heart weighed down by worry. She let out a quiet sigh as she dropped her bag by the door, and Raven, who was leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand, immediately looked up at her.

"I think you need to look at it like a win," Raven said, trying to offer some semblance of hope.

Lexa raised an eyebrow, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Traumatic brain injury is a win?"

Raven shot her a sideways glance, unimpressed. "You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes. "It’s not the worst-case scenario. She's alive. You’re both alive."

Octavia, who had been lounging on the couch, tossed a crumpled piece of paper at Raven. "You're an idiot," she said playfully, a small grin on her face.

Lexa let out a soft laugh at the banter. It felt like a brief escape from the turmoil inside her. But then the reality of the situation settled back in, and the tightness in her chest returned.

"If she doesn’t remember who you are, then she doesn’t remember all the stupid shit you ever did," Lincoln added, his voice full of understanding. "You can start over, wipe the slate clean."

Lexa's heart fluttered at the idea, but it didn’t feel like a real solution. She shook her head, eyes downcast. "I don’t want to start over. I just want her back," she said, her voice cracking with the weight of emotion.

Raven softened, taking a step toward Lexa. "I get it," she said quietly, her tone more serious now. "I just... I'm worried. If she doesn't remember you, how is she going to remember that she loves you? That you two belong together?"

Her words hit Lexa harder than expected, the fear bubbling up again. She clenched her fists, trying to hold it all together.

Octavia, who had been sitting silently for a moment, suddenly reached over and smacked Raven lightly on the arm. "Raven," she said, clearly annoyed. "Come on, seriously?"

Raven shrugged, looking surprised by Octavia's reaction. "What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking."

Lincoln, always the one to keep things light, let out a laugh. "Honestly, I was a little stunned she went for you the first time," he teased, his grin playful.

Raven scoffed dramatically. "If anything, you’ve become less attractive," she said, rolling her eyes. "Everyone can see it."

The entire room burst into laughter, including Lexa, despite the heaviness weighing her down. She appreciated the lighthearted teasing, but it didn’t mask the ache in her heart.

"You guys are a great support system," Lexa said with a small, tired smile, feeling the warmth of her friends around her. It didn’t take away the fear, but it made her feel less alone in it.

The laughter died down, and Lexa’s voice grew quiet as the anxiety began to swell again. "Seriously, though... What if she doesn’t remember me? What if... she never remembers me? Then what?" Her voice cracked, and she quickly looked away, trying to push back the tears.

Lincoln, who had been standing at the back, finally moved forward and sat down across from her. His expression was steady, but his eyes were filled with concern. "She’s going to remember you, Lexa," he said, his voice calm and unwavering. "She’s going to remember all of us. We’re her family. And family doesn’t just disappear. You’re not alone in this."

Lexa let out a breath, her chest tightening at his words. She looked up at him, a flicker of hope in her eyes, but it was hard to believe that everything would just return to how it had been. "But what if she doesn’t? What if she doesn’t remember the life we’ve built? What if she doesn’t remember me as me ?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Raven stepped forward this time, her expression softening. "You’re asking the wrong question," she said gently. "The real question is, how are you going to make her remember?" She gave a small, reassuring smile. "You’ve already made her fall in love with you once. You can do it again. It might not be the same, but that’s okay."

Lexa’s heart ached as she absorbed Raven’s words. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was what she needed. She couldn’t keep running from the fear. Maybe she didn’t have control over Clarke’s memory, but she could fight for her, for them.

She nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I just… I just want her to be okay. I want to hold her and have everything be normal again." Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them away, determined not to break down.

Lincoln, ever the pillar of calm, gave her a reassuring look. "She’s going to be okay," he said firmly. "I know it."

Lexa took in a shaky breath, nodding again, but the doubt still lingered. "I hope you’re right," she said quietly.

Octavia, who had been quietly watching, stood up and walked over to her. "We’re all here for you," she said softly, resting a hand on Lexa’s shoulder. "You’re not going through this alone."

Lexa gave her a small, grateful smile. "I know," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, all of you. I just... I can’t lose her."

"You won’t," Raven said, her voice gentle yet firm. "We’ll all be here to help you fight for her. You don’t have to do this alone."

Lexa nodded, the weight of the situation still heavy, but feeling a little lighter with the support of her friends. She wasn’t alone. She had her family. And together, they would help her fight for Clarke.

…

Lexa hurried through the hospital the next day, her heart racing with anxiety as she made her way to Clarke’s room. But when she arrived, her stomach sank—Clarke wasn’t there. Panic crept in, and Lexa’s breath hitched as she looked around the hallway, her eyes darting from one corner to the next, searching for any sign of her girlfriend.

She spotted a nurse walking by and quickly approached her, voice tight with worry. “Uh, excuse me. I’m looking for Clarke Griffin. She was right here yesterday…”

The nurse glanced at her screen and then looked back at Lexa with a slightly detached expression. “Well, it looks like they moved her to the VIP floor.”

Lexa blinked in confusion. “VIP? That sounds expensive.”

The nurse gave a small, almost indifferent shrug. “It’s a donor’s wing. They tend to reserve it for people who can afford it or those who’ve made significant contributions to the hospital. Just head down this way, take the elevator to the second floor, and then make a right.”

“Right, thank you,” Lexa said quickly, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and anxiety. She barely waited for the nurse to finish speaking before she was already moving down the hallway, her legs moving faster than they ever had before.

As she took the elevator up to the second floor, Lexa’s mind was spinning. Why was Clarke moved? Was something wrong? Why wasn’t she told? The questions consumed her as she stepped off the elevator, her heart pounding as she turned the corner, her eyes scanning for Clarke’s room.

Finally, she saw it—Room 213. Lexa’s heart skipped a beat, but she was too nervous to be relieved yet. She knocked gently on the door before opening it, stepping inside to find Clarke sitting up in bed, a doctor standing beside her.

“Clarke?” Lexa whispered, her voice barely audible as she froze in the doorway, her eyes locking on her girlfriend.

Clarke turned her head toward the sound of her name, her face breaking into a small, cautious smile as she looked at Lexa. But before anything else could happen, the doctor spoke up, addressing Clarke in a calm, professional tone.

“Clarke, your long-term memory is intact, and I’m very optimistic that the rest of your memory will improve with time,” the doctor said with a reassuring smile.

Lexa stood there, frozen in the doorway, her eyes scanning the room as the words hit her like a blow to the chest. She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to ask, but for a moment, she couldn’t move. The mix of emotions—relief, fear, confusion—washed over her.

It was the doctor who broke the silence, her voice light with recognition. “Missus Woods, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said warmly, but Lexa barely heard her.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she took a hesitant step forward, still absorbing the weight of the doctor’s words. “Long-term memory… is that a good thing?” Lexa asked, her voice trembling as she tried to keep it together.

The doctor nodded. “It means that Clarke’s memory of events from her past, the important things, are intact. But it’ll take time for her to fully recover other memories. It’s all part of the healing process.”

Lexa stepped into the room and froze. Two people were sitting by Clarke’s bed, both of them turning to face her. They were unfamiliar to her, yet something in their expressions told Lexa exactly who they were. Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to speak. "This is... bizarre," she muttered to herself, more than anyone in the room.

She cleared her throat and spoke louder. "I’m Lexa, Clarke’s girlfriend."

Clarke, still in the bed, blinked up at her, her expression blank. She looked at Lexa, then at the two strangers, clearly confused by the situation.

"You’ve got a lot of nerve," a man’s voice broke through the silence. The man—Clarke’s father, Lexa assumed—glared at her with disapproval. "Do you know how disconcerting it was to hear second-hand that my daughter had been in the ICU for weeks and we hadn’t been told?" he scoffed, his voice tight with anger.

Lexa’s heart sank at his words, and she fought to keep her voice steady. "I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I should’ve called."

Clarke looked back and forth between Lexa and her parents, her brow furrowing in confusion. She still didn’t seem to understand what was happening. "You’ve never met my parents?" she asked, her voice hesitant and unsure. "I don’t understand. Why haven’t you met them?" She turned to face her parents again, more questions rising in her mind.

Abby, her mother, didn’t answer Clarke’s question, her attention focused entirely on the doctor who had been standing quietly at the side. "So, doctor," she asked, her voice calm but firm, "what’s the next step? What’s the plan?"

The doctor smiled softly, trying to reassure them. "The sooner Clarke can settle back into her normal life and routine, the better. In about a week, I’ll recommend she sees a neuropsychologist to help with the memory recovery process."

Lexa nodded, her heart lightened by the doctor’s words, but the tension in the room was still thick. She turned to Abby and Jake. "I’ll make sure she gets the best. Whatever she needs—therapy, specialists—I’ll make sure she’s taken care of," Lexa promised, her voice firm despite her uncertainty.

Jake Griffin nodded, but it didn’t seem to ease the tension. "You’ll come home with us. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable, Clarke. I’ll take some time off work," Jake said, a protective tone in his voice as he looked at his daughter.

Abby nodded in agreement, holding Clarke’s hand. "I’ll make up your old room, sweetheart. We’ll make sure everything is familiar. You need to rest and recover."

Clarke gave them both a small, grateful smile, the weight of the situation slowly lifting from her shoulders as she looked to her parents for reassurance.

But Lexa felt a pang of discomfort. She didn’t want to sound disrespectful, but something wasn’t sitting right with her. "I don’t mean to be disrespectful," Lexa began carefully, her voice shaky, "but... you heard what Clarke’s doctor said. She needs to get back to her normal routine. Her life with me is her normal routine."

Clarke looked back at her, her confusion deepening. She glanced between Lexa and her parents, her brow furrowing.

Abby’s tone shifted, tinged with annoyance. "Yeah, but that’s a life she doesn’t remember, Lexa."

Lexa’s chest tightened, and she felt a rush of frustration rising within her. "She will," Lexa insisted, her voice steady despite the surge of emotion. "That’s what the doctor just said. She’s going to get better, and she’s going to remember."

Jake shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing in doubt. "No, what the doctor said was maybe Clarke will remember," he corrected, his tone firm but not unkind.

Abby sighed and looked back at Clarke, then at Lexa, her voice laced with an undercurrent of concern. "Why not let her come home with us, where she can recover with people she knows?"

"And loves," Jake added, his voice quieter now, a note of tenderness in it as he looked at his daughter.

"We’re only trying to do what’s best for Clarke," Abby said softly, her gaze returning to Lexa, as if she were asking her to understand.

The room went silent, the weight of their words pressing down on Lexa. She could feel her heart racing, the struggle between what she believed was right for Clarke and the well-meaning intentions of her parents. Her throat tightened, but she didn’t back down.

"I know you love her. But you’re not the one who’s been here with her through all of this," Lexa said softly but firmly. "You don’t know how much she needs me right now."

Clarke’s eyes flickered between the three of them, still lost in the confusion of her memories. 

Clarke’s head spun as the voices around her grew louder. It felt like too much—too many questions, too many opinions, all crashing down at once. She felt a wave of dizziness hit her, and she had to steady herself, closing her eyes to block out the chaos.

Lexa, sensing her distress, shot a pointed look at Clarke’s parents. "That’s interesting, considering you haven’t even asked her what she wants," she said, her voice sharp with frustration.

Abby opened her mouth to respond, but Clarke’s hand shot up to her forehead, her fingers pressing against her temples as if she could block the noise. "What I need," Clarke’s voice cracked slightly as she spoke, "is for everybody to shut up."

Her voice rang out in the quiet room, and it was like the world paused for a moment. Her parents fell silent, exchanging glances, but it was clear they hadn’t expected the outburst.

The doctor, who had been watching the exchange with concern, finally stepped forward. "Listen, none of this needs to be decided right now," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "I think you should all go home and get some rest. I’m sure everyone could use it." He looked at Clarke, his gaze softening with worry. "Clarke, you need to rest. This is overwhelming, and it’s too much for you to process all at once."

Clarke nodded, her breath shaky as she tried to calm herself. The weight of everything—the confusion, the pressure—felt suffocating. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t process it all at once.

"I’ll stay," Lexa said quietly, her gaze never leaving Clarke’s face, her voice soft but unwavering. "I’m not going anywhere."

…

After leaving the hospital, Lexa went straight home, her mind swirling with worry and doubt. She spent the rest of the day lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. Her heart ached as she tried to process everything that had happened, but the uncertainty felt like an unshakable shadow.

How could this be happening? How could Clarke—her girlfriend, the person she shared her life with—look at her and have no recollection of who she was? Lexa’s chest tightened as the reality set in: the woman she loved, the one she had built a life with, didn’t remember her.

The silence in the room felt deafening as she thought about their future. Would they even have one? Could they rebuild something from nothing? She didn’t know how to answer those questions, and the fear that they might never be the same again gnawed at her. She was afraid that no matter how much she tried, no matter how hard she fought, Clarke might never remember the love they had—or worse, that it wouldn’t matter if she did.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had to stay strong for Clarke.

…

The next day, Lexa arrived at the hospital to have lunch with Clarke, hoping for a moment of normalcy. They sat across from each other in the small cafeteria, the tension between them palpable. Lexa didn’t know what to say. She had expected this to be hard, but not this hard. Her heart felt like it was being slowly crushed under the weight of the uncertainty.

Clarke broke the silence first. "How come you’re my girlfriend, but you’ve never met my family?" she asked, clearly confused.

Lexa swallowed hard, struggling to find the words. "You haven’t spoken to them in years," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, but there was a catch to her words. A bitterness she couldn’t hide.

"Why would I ever stop speaking to my family?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

Lexa leaned back, trying to steady herself. She couldn’t answer Clarke's question without dredging up painful memories. "It all went down before we met," she said quietly.

"And we never talked about it?" Clarke asked, the confusion on her face deepening.

"No," Lexa said softly. "We did."

"So what happened?" Clarke pressed, still trying to make sense of everything.

Lexa took a deep breath. "For starters, you wanted to move into the city, to go to the Art Institute. But your father insisted you stay in law school. He had really strict views about what you should be doing. Things just... spiraled from there."

Clarke shook her head. "Okay, look, what I remember is being in law school and being engaged to Bellamy," she said, her voice laced with confusion.

Lexa’s heart sank at the mention of Bellamy’s name. She tried to hold herself together, but a flicker of pain flashed in her eyes. Clarke didn’t even remember meeting her. She didn’t remember the life they had built together.

Lexa quickly blinked away the tears that threatened to spill. "I... I don’t know," Clarke muttered, standing abruptly. She took a step away from the table, her confusion growing. "I just—"

Lexa stood too, reaching out desperately. "Babe, wait," she said, her voice soft but pleading. "Please, just listen to me."

Clarke froze, but didn’t turn around. Lexa walked toward her, stopping just short of touching her. "The best thing you can do right now is go back to your life with me," Lexa said, her voice breaking. "You heard what the doctor said. It’s the best thing for your recovery."

Clarke shook her head, her expression a mix of fear and uncertainty. "But I don’t know you," she said, her voice small, taking a step back from Lexa. "And I’m just supposed to get in your car and live at your place?"

Lexa’s heart tightened. "It’s our place," she corrected gently, hoping to bridge the gap.

Clarke’s brow furrowed. "Without any proof of us even being in love?" she asked, her voice trembling with doubt.

Lexa bit her lip, struggling to keep her composure. "Other than the fact that we live together?" she asked, her voice tinged with frustration.

Clarke looked at her blankly. "People do that all the time," she said, her tone suggesting she was trying to rationalize everything, but Lexa could hear the doubt in her words.

"Okay, like?" Lexa asked, her tone sharp now, the pain beginning to show.

"Like, uh... saving money?" Clarke suggested, clearly grasping at straws.

Lexa managed a strained laugh, shaking her head. "I’ve got enough money," she said, her voice hoarse with emotion.

Clarke looked at her, still trying to make sense of it all. "Did I keep a journal?" she asked suddenly.

"No, not that I know of," Lexa answered, her throat tightening as she realized how desperately Clarke was trying to find something tangible, something that might help her make sense of everything.

Clarke closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I just... I can’t," she said, her voice cracking as she turned to walk away.

Lexa stood frozen for a moment, her body aching with the need to reach out, but Clarke was already retreating from her. "Clarke, please," Lexa whispered, but her voice was barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Clarke didn’t look back as she left Lexa standing there, feeling more helpless than she had ever felt in her life. Her body shook as she fought to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. This... this was going to be harder than she had ever imagined. And she didn’t know if she had the strength to do it. But she knew one thing for sure—she wasn’t going to give up on Clarke. Even if it meant starting all over again.

Chapter Text

The next day, Clarke packed up her belongings as her parents stood nearby, waiting. She zipped up her bag and glanced at her outfit with a frown. “I guess this is all I could find,” she muttered, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

Clarke stared at herself, puzzled. The clothes didn’t feel like hers; they were casual, soft, and worn in—a far cry from what she remembered herself wearing. "I don’t understand why I’d ever wear this," she said, her face twisted in mild disgust.

Abby stepped forward, her motherly instinct kicking in. “Oh, sweetheart, it looks fine,” she reassured Clarke with a warm smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of concern.

Clarke wasn’t convinced. "Fine? I look like I rolled out of bed and decided to audition for ‘Grunge Throwback.’” She pinched the fabric of her hoodie, her expression unimpressed.

Abby chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere special, honey. We’re just going home.”

Clarke sighed, her frustration evident. “Well, it’s horrible,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She turned back to her bag, shaking her head.

…

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The doctor stepped inside, clipboard in hand, and smiled warmly. "Clarke?" she addressed her gently. "I hear you’re finally leaving us today."

Clarke glanced at her parents, her expression a mix of uncertainty and politeness. “Oh, uh, yeah. That’s what they tell me,” she replied, her voice tinged with confusion.

Meanwhile, Lexa was rushing through the hospital halls, weaving past nurses and patients, her heart pounding. She was determined to convince Clarke to come home with her—where she belonged.

Back in the room, the doctor continued. “Now, no driving until I give you the all-clear,” she advised, her tone firm but kind. “But other than that, I’ll see you in four to six weeks for your follow-up.” She handed Clarke a card with her contact information.

“Thank you so much,” Clarke said, smiling politely as she accepted the card.

“Yes, thank you, doctor,” Abby chimed in, giving the doctor a grateful nod.

The doctor returned the smile. “Take care, Clarke. You’re in good hands,” she said before exiting the room.

As the door closed, Clarke let out a small, nervous breath. “Okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “Guess it’s time to go home.”

Abby walked over and placed a reassuring hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “You ready?” she asked softly.

Clarke hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Yeah,” she said, her voice carrying both excitement and apprehension.

“Let’s go,” Abby said, motioning towards the door.

Just as Clarke and her parents began to move, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway. Lexa appeared at the doorway, slightly out of breath, her eyes locking on Clarke. “Wait!” she called, her voice filled with urgency.

"I got a voicemail," Lexa said, her voice carrying a hopeful edge. She held up her phone, her hands trembling slightly. "It’s from before the accident."

Clarke tilted her head, curious but cautious. “You said you wanted evidence,” Lexa added, her gaze steady as she met Clarke’s eyes, willing her to believe.

Clarke gave a small nod, her face a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “Alright,” she said softly. “Let’s have a listen.”

Lexa nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, and pressed play on her phone.

The voicemail crackled to life, and Clarke’s voice, bright and full of warmth, filled the room: “Hey, baby. Ugh, I’m sorry, I’m still at my studio. I miss you so bad my sculptures are starting to look like you. So, what are you doing later? I kind of need some Lexa time, if you know what I mean. Yeah. Anyway, call me back. Love you.”

As the message ended, a heavy silence settled between them. Clarke stared at Lexa, her expression unreadable, while Lexa’s heart raced. She had hoped this would spark something—anything.

“Well?” Lexa asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Does that…help? I mean, it’s not exactly proof of—"

Clarke interrupted, her lips curling into a small smile. “No, no, it’s—” She hesitated, her hand brushing her hair back nervously. “It’s cute. I mean, I sound happy.”

Clarke's parents stood stiffly, their expressions brimming with disapproval. Lexa could feel the weight of their resentment, the silent but piercing message that they didn’t want her anywhere near their daughter. Still, she wasn’t about to back down. She took a deep breath and turned to Clarke, her voice firm but pleading.

“Clarke, think about it,” Lexa began, her gaze locked on Clarke’s. “You quit law school. You broke off your engagement. You moved into the city. Those were all choices you made before you even met me. They were about you—your dreams, your life. I think you owe it to yourself to honor those decisions, at least for now.”

Abby’s sharp intake of breath was audible. She stepped forward, her tone cutting. “This is a mistake, Clarke,” she said coldly, her glare slicing through Lexa.

Lexa turned to face Abby directly, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I promise I’ll take care of her,” she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and desperation. Turning back to Clarke, her expression softened. “Please, Clarke. Come home with me. We’ll figure this out together, I swear.”

Clarke looked conflicted, her eyes darting between her parents and Lexa. The tension in the room was palpable. She finally spoke, her voice hesitant but resolute. “I guess…I guess I could try it out. To see if it helps my memory,” she said, pausing to glance at her parents, whose faces were etched with frustration. “And if it doesn’t work, I can always come back.”

Lexa’s breath caught as relief flooded through her. She nodded quickly. “Yes. Of course. Whatever you need.”

Clarke bit her lip and added, almost to herself, “I mean, I moved in with her for a reason, right?”

Abby folded her arms, her voice laced with sarcasm. “A guarded endorsement,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at Lexa.

Lexa didn’t care. She turned to Abby with a calm but earnest smile. “I’ll take it,” she said softly, her voice brimming with gratitude.

…

About thirty minutes later, they were on their way back to what used to be their home. The car ride was enveloped in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the hum of the engine. Lexa kept glancing at Clarke from the corner of her eye, unsure of how to bridge the growing gap between them.

Clarke caught her reflection in the sun visor mirror and froze. Her fingers brushed the faint scar just below her hairline. “I look like a freak,” she muttered, her voice tinged with worry.

Lexa couldn’t help but laugh softly as she glanced over at her. “You don’t look like a freak,” she said warmly. “I think you look great.”

Clarke shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the compliment. She avoided Lexa’s gaze and decided to change the subject. “Where do we live?” she asked, her tone neutral but curious.

Lexa’s face lit up, happy for a chance to talk about something more concrete. “On the north side,” she said with a grin. “Great neighborhood, close to the lake.”

Clarke frowned, processing the unfamiliar details. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, “Who’s the president?”

Lexa blinked, caught off guard. “Of the country?” she asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah,” Clarke replied, her tone deadly serious.

Lexa smirked, turning her attention back to the road. “Obama.”

Clarke’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The senator?” she asked, sounding incredulous.

Lexa chuckled. “Yeah. You voted for him.”

“I did?” Clarke said, her voice laced with surprise.

Lexa nodded, smiling softly. “You were pretty passionate about it, too. I remember you made a whole speech about hope and change.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

Lexa laughed again, a bittersweet sound. “You’d be surprised,” she said quietly, her smile fading as she kept her focus on the road ahead.

…

After a twenty-minute drive, they finally pulled up to a cozy-looking house bathed in the faint glow of streetlights. The darkness outside made the place feel unfamiliar and a little ominous to Clarke, who hesitated as she got out of the car.

Lexa stepped ahead and motioned for Clarke to follow, leading her down a small stone path to the front door. She paused there, her hand hovering over the handle, before saying awkwardly, “Uh, welcome home.” She pushed the door open, stepping aside to let Clarke in first. “After you.”

Clarke stepped cautiously into the house, her eyes darting around. The foyer opened into a warm and inviting living room, but before she could take it all in, the lights flicked on, and a loud chorus of voices erupted.

“SURPRISE!”

Clarke jumped, visibly startled, her breath catching as a crowd of people greeted her with wide smiles and cheers. The room was full—faces she didn’t recognize, people stepping forward eagerly to introduce themselves. The noise, the sudden energy—it was all too much.

Her heart raced as one person after another claimed to know her, recounting memories she couldn’t place, smiling at her with a familiarity she couldn’t return. Overwhelmed, she felt her throat tighten, and her vision blurred with unshed tears.

“Excuse me,” Clarke muttered, her voice barely audible over the chatter. Without waiting for a response, she turned and slipped out of the living room, retreating down a hallway in search of solitude.

Lexa noticed immediately and followed after her, catching up as Clarke leaned against a wall in the quietest corner of the house. “Hey,” Lexa said softly, concern etched into her features. “You okay?”

Clarke’s eyes flashed with frustration and exhaustion as she turned to face Lexa. “What were you thinking?” she snapped, her voice trembling. “I don’t know these people. I don’t even know you .” She let out a shaky breath. “This—this was a stupid idea.”

Lexa flinched at the words but nodded slowly, her expression pained. “I just thought… maybe seeing everyone who loves you, who’s a part of your life, would help. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“Well, you did,” Clarke replied, her tone sharp but her eyes softening as she saw Lexa’s crestfallen face. She sighed heavily and crossed her arms. “I just need… space. I need time.”

Lexa nodded again, swallowing hard. “I’ll clear everyone out,” she said quietly. “Take as much time as you need.”

Clarke didn’t respond, simply leaning her head back against the wall, her mind spinning with thoughts she couldn’t piece together. Lexa gave her one last, lingering look before heading back toward the living room to disperse the guests, her heart heavy with guilt and worry.

…

Lexa stood by the front door, ushering the last of the guests out. Her voice carried a mix of gratitude and apology as she spoke. “Thank you all for coming. I’m sorry it ended so early. I shouldn’t have…” She trailed off, her guilt evident.

Octavia placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before pulling her into a brief hug. “Don’t beat yourself up, Lexa. Just take care of her—and yourself, okay?”

Lexa nodded, managing a small, tired smile. “Thanks, O.”

As the door clicked shut behind the final guest, silence descended over the house. Lexa leaned against the door for a moment, exhaling a shaky breath. She turned and headed down the hall, searching for Clarke.

She found her in their bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to the door. Clarke was surrounded by belongings she had pulled from drawers and shelves—mementos of a life she didn’t remember. Lexa hesitated in the doorway, watching as Clarke picked up a sketchpad from the nightstand.

The page Clarke had turned to caught Lexa’s eye immediately. It was a drawing of her—soft pencil strokes capturing her in a moment of quiet thought, her expression serene. It was one of Clarke’s best, the kind of portrait that almost breathed.

Clarke traced the edges of the drawing with her fingers, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Did I…?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Lexa stepped into the room cautiously. “Yeah,” she said gently. “You drew that. You’ve always been amazing at capturing people.”

Clarke glanced over her shoulder at Lexa, her expression a mix of confusion and wonder. “I don’t even remember doing this,” she admitted. “But it’s… good.”

“It’s more than good,” Lexa said softly. “It’s you.”

Clarke turned back to the sketch, her thoughts a jumble. After a moment, she looked up at the nightstand, where a small collection of items had been gathered—more sketches, a pair of earrings, and a worn ticket stub. She reached for the stub. “What’s this?”

Lexa stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. “Our first concert together,” she explained. “You wanted to keep it as a memory.”

…

Lexa stepped into the room, her gaze soft but filled with worry. Clarke hastily set down a perfume bottle she’d been holding, her movements tense and deliberate. Lexa hesitated for a moment before perching on the edge of the bed, her voice low and gentle.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her concern evident.

Clarke shot her a sharp glance, her tone clipped and sad. “What do you think?”

Lexa sighed, her heart aching for the woman she loved. “I know. It’s a lot to take in.”

Clarke’s sadness gave way to anger, her voice rising with frustration. “No,” she snapped. “A lot to take in would’ve been coming home to a strange apartment with a girl I don’t know. That would’ve been manageable. But coming home to that —” she gestured toward the door, where their guests had been—“a house full of strangers pulling on me, hugging me, crying in my face, and dumping more stories and memories that I don’t even have? That’s not a lot to take in, Lexa. That’s total bullshit! ”

Her voice cracked with the weight of her fury, and Lexa flinched, guilt etched into every line of her face. “You’re right,” Lexa admitted quietly. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that. It was only meant to be a few people…”

“Just get out!” Clarke shouted, her voice shaking.

“Clarke, I’m sorry,” Lexa said, her voice trembling as she tried to reason with her.

Clarke’s frustration boiled over, her voice loud and raw. “ARE YOU SERIOUSLY NOT GOING TO LEAVE ME ALONE?!”

The words struck Lexa like a blow. She stood slowly, her posture stiff with hurt. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice barely audible as she left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

As soon as Lexa was gone, Clarke crumbled. Her anger dissolved into tears, her hands clutching her head as she sat on the edge of the bed. The weight of everything pressed down on her until it felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke whispered to the empty room, her voice breaking as she wept. “I just… I can’t.”

…

Lexa slept on the couch that night, feeling like she’d made everything worse with her good intentions. She didn’t want to upset Clarke any more than she already had. Guilt settled heavily on her chest, and she could hardly sleep, tossing and turning for hours, replaying the night’s events in her mind.

The next morning, Clarke emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around her body. She walked to the mirror, wiping steam from the glass, and froze when she saw something unexpected. A tattoo—some kind of symbol—was inked across her back. She turned to inspect it further, her eyes widening in shock.

"Oh my god. My mother’s going to kill me," Clarke muttered, her voice tinged with panic.

A few minutes later, Lexa woke up, groggy and disoriented. She stretched, standing from the couch with a sigh. She walked toward the bathroom, intending to take a shower to shake off the fatigue, but as she passed the hallway, she saw Clarke standing there in her underwear.

"Good morning," Lexa said with a sleepy smile, not fully processing the situation.

"Good morning," Clarke replied, her face a mix of surprise and sudden awkwardness.

Clarke made a sound of discomfort as she quickly grabbed a T-shirt to cover herself, flustered by Lexa’s unexpected appearance.

"What?" Lexa asked, genuinely puzzled.

"You didn’t knock!" Clarke pointed out, her voice a little sharp.

"It’s habit. I’m sorry," Lexa said apologetically, still speaking with that drowsy, half-asleep tone.

Clarke raised an eyebrow. "It’s not like I haven’t seen it before," she said, trying to brush it off.

Lexa chuckled softly, but Clarke was already turning away, shaking her head as she muttered, "This is not funny. Uhm, you should knock next time."

"Sorry," Lexa said again, her face flushing slightly as she retreated into the bathroom.

About ten minutes later, Clarke wandered into the kitchen, her mind still processing the morning’s awkward exchange. She found Lexa sitting at the table, reading the newspaper while eating breakfast. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension. Neither knew quite how to break the silence. Lexa glanced up and offered a shy smile.

"You look nice," Lexa said softly, her voice gentle, trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Really?" Clarke asked, sounding surprised by the compliment.

Lexa nodded, glancing down at her plate. "This is about the only piece of clothing I feel comfortable in," Clarke added, tugging at the oversized T-shirt she was wearing.

Lexa’s eyes lit up with recognition. "That’s mine, actually," she said with a teasing smile before taking another bite of her food.

Clarke paused, the awkwardness thick in the air. "Oh," she said, her face flushing slightly.

"It’s fine," Lexa reassured her with a warm smile. "Really."

…

Lexa sat at the kitchen table, watching Clarke rummage through the cabinets in search of a mug.

"What?" Clarke asked, a bit confused by the stare she was receiving.

"Huh?" Lexa blinked, realizing she’d been lost in thought.

Clarke raised an eyebrow. "You’re looking at me like I’m some kind of zoo animal."

Lexa chuckled softly, feeling sheepish. "Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know... I’m just trying to figure this all out too, I guess," she admitted.

Clarke walked over to the kitchen table, her eyes widening as she took in the spread of food prepared for breakfast. "Wow, you normally do all this?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

Lexa shook her head. "No. This is me saying sorry for last night," she said, a hint of guilt in her voice. "That was such a bonehead move. I wasn’t thinking."

Clarke gave her a soft smile. "No, please. I’m sorry," she said, her tone sincere. "I don’t want you to worry about me, okay? Just go about your normal routine and..." she trailed off, then paused. "Do you work?"

Lexa raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Well, if I’m still in business, that is."

Clarke’s confusion deepened. "What do you mean?"

"I own a recording studio," Lexa explained.

"Hmm, cool," Clarke said with a small smile, clearly trying to keep things light.

"So, what’s my routine? What do I do all day?" Clarke asked, genuinely curious.

Lexa took a breath and smiled. "You usually get up and make coffee."

"Alright," Clarke said, standing up and walking over to the coffee machine. But just as she reached for it, Lexa stopped her.

"No worries. I got it. I made the coffee this morning. Well, at least I think I did," Lexa said with a small chuckle.

Clarke smiled and sat down again as Lexa continued. "After the coffee, you check your emails and pay the bills. When you're done with that, you usually go to your studio until the evening."

Clarke tilted her head. "I can take you down there if you want," Lexa offered.

Clarke shook her head, a cold edge to her voice. "No, you know what? We don’t have to do all of this right now. Just go to work, I’ll see you tonight."

Lexa hesitated, not sure if Clarke was truly okay with the arrangement. "Maybe we can make flashcards later or something?" she suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

Clarke nodded, her tone more neutral. "Yeah," she said quietly, "I’m fine. Just go."

Lexa didn’t push, simply nodding in understanding. She handed Clarke her smartphone, showing her that her number was saved in the contacts. "I’ll be at work all day," she said gently.

"Have a good day," Clarke replied, her voice soft but distant.

Lexa left the house and drove to her recording studio, her mind still replaying the conversation with Clarke. She arrived at the studio and walked into the control room, where Octavia was working.

"How is she doing?" Octavia asked, glancing up from her work.

"She’s getting there," Lexa said, her voice filled with hope. "She’ll be fine."

Octavia gave her a reassuring smile. "I’ll see you at 3?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Lexa replied. "I’m going to change at home first. See you then."

With that, Lexa left the studio, her thoughts still lingering on Clarke as she headed to visit a client.

…

Clarke had spent the entire day going through the house, trying to make sense of the life she had once known. As she was exploring the living room, something caught her eye—a video on the TV. She pressed play, and there she was, smiling in a video with Lexa at the beach. They looked so happy together. Clarke could see the way Lexa gently cradled her, whispering, "I love you" in her ear. It made Clarke’s heart ache, but it was also comforting, seeing how deeply they had cared for each other.

Then, as the video continued, Lexa was seen giving her a necklace shaped like a heart. "I vow to fiercely love you, in all your forms, now and forever," Clarke heard herself say, her voice filled with tenderness. The video ended, and Clarke was left staring at the screen, overwhelmed by the love she could feel in that moment.

Later that afternoon, Clarke left the house to explore the neighborhood, hoping to get a sense of her surroundings. She wandered into a small café that Lexa had told her about, a place they used to visit often before the accident. As Clarke walked up to the counter, the woman behind it looked up and smiled.

"The usual?" she asked, recognition in her eyes.

Clarke blinked, surprised. "I have a usual?" she asked, unsure if she was imagining things.

The woman nodded knowingly and handed her a small plate with chocolates on it. "On the house," she said.

"Thank you," Clarke said softly, taking a seat at a nearby table, her mind spinning. She couldn’t remember having a "usual," but something about the gesture felt oddly comforting.

After finishing her treat, Clarke left the café but quickly found herself lost in the unfamiliar streets. She wandered for a while, trying to figure out where she was, before eventually bumping into a man on the sidewalk. He kindly let her borrow his phone, and Clarke quickly called her mother to ask for help. She was relieved when her mother assured her that everything would be okay and that she would come to get her.

When Lexa got home, she was startled to find the house empty. She frowned, worried, and started pacing. It wasn’t until a few moments later that Clarke walked through the door, looking a little disheveled but otherwise fine.

"Where have you been?" Lexa asked, her voice laced with concern.

Clarke gave a tired smile. "I was out. Got lost, physically and mentally," she said, trying to make light of it, but there was a sadness in her eyes.

"You should’ve called me," Lexa pointed out, her worry deepening.

Clarke shrugged, her gaze falling. "I forgot the phone. I didn’t know your number, so I called my mom. We made it a day. She invited us over for dinner tonight," she added, her tone softening with a small smile.

Lexa hesitated, clearly frustrated. "Alright," she said, though her voice carried a note of annoyance. "But you should have called."

Clarke met her gaze, her eyes earnest. "Look, Lexa. Right now, they’re the only thing I’m sure about. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and remember everything, but today is not that day. So please, just accept this." Her voice was firm, but there was a vulnerability in it too.

Lexa softened, her frustration fading as she nodded slowly. "Okay. We’ll go," she said, giving in to Clarke’s wishes. She could see how much it meant to her.

…

Lexa was about to walk away from the conversation, but Clarke’s voice stopped her. “Are you going to change?” she asked, looking over at her.

“Uhm, yeah,” Lexa replied before turning and leaving the room. “Changing.”

Clarke, still holding the card that came with the bouquet of flowers, began speaking as they drove. “It’s just a left up here at the Caldwells’, then a right at the cul-de-sac, and we’re six houses on the right. Oh, the Prestleys got a new mailbox, how cute,” she commented, her voice light, though there was an edge to it.

Lexa simply glanced around, keeping her attention mostly on the road. She didn’t say much.

Clarke, still reading the card, spoke again, her tone shifting. “You know, this arrangement doesn’t exactly scream, ‘I’m sorry we haven’t spoken, but now that I have a brain injury, maybe you can overlook it.’”

Lexa glanced at her briefly before nodding. “You’re right,” she said softly, her eyes back on the road.

After a moment of silence, Lexa added with a teasing tone, “We should’ve gotten forget-me-nots.”

“That’s funny,” Clarke said dryly, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “Actually, that is funny,” she admitted, her sarcasm easing just a little.

Lexa didn’t respond. She didn’t want to risk upsetting Clarke further, so she kept her focus on the road, silently agreeing with the idea that sometimes, less was more.

…

After a few minutes, they finally arrived at Clarke's parents' house. The silence in the car was broken when Clarke spoke again. “So, you’ve already met my parents, but my dad prefers to be called Jake, though he’ll still answer to Mr. Griffin. And my sister’s name is…”

“Harper,” Lexa finished for her, glancing over at Clarke with a knowing smile.

Clarke blinked, surprised by how much Lexa knew. “Right, yeah,” she said, leading Lexa to the front door of the house.

As they walked up to the door, Lexa added, “We’re living together, you know?”

Clarke glanced at her, slightly uncomfortable, but nodded. “I know. I guess it’s… weird, huh?”

About an hour later, they were sitting around the dinner table when Clarke’s sister proudly showed off her engagement ring. “Oh my god, you’re engaged!” Clarke exclaimed, smiling widely.

“I know,” Harper replied, beaming.

Lexa didn’t say anything but simply nodded, feeling a bit awkward, though she tried not to let it show, especially in front of Clarke.

“Oh, you guys make such a cute couple!” Clarke said to Harper and Monty, who had just joined them.

“Thanks, Clarke,” Monty said with a smile as he took his seat.

“It’s been forever,” Harper said, relief evident in her voice as she looked at her sister. “Has it?”

“Yeah,” Harper added, a touch of sadness in her voice.

“The weird thing is, everyone looks a little older,” Clarke said with a teasing grin.

“Really?” Harper asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, especially you,” Clarke said with a smile.

Harper laughed, then pulled Clarke into a warm hug. “I’m so glad to have you back.”

“Voila!” Abby said, walking into the room with dinner in her hands. “In honor of Clarke being home, I made your favorite dinner.” She placed the dishes on the table with a proud smile. “Filet mignon,” she said, looking satisfied with herself.

Everyone took their seats, and Abby started the conversation. “Before we begin, I think this evening deserves a toast. Darling?” she asked, turning to Jake.

“Well, I’d like to drink to my family,” Jake said, raising his glass. “I’m so fortunate to have these three beautiful women in my life. And when we’re all together, that fortune just multiplies. Clarke, honey, welcome home. To family,” he added with a grin.

Lexa’s expression faltered. She wasn’t thrilled to be there and could tell her discomfort was reflected in the tension around the table.

“To family,” the rest of the group echoed, though Lexa remained silent.

Jake, seemingly trying to make conversation, turned to Lexa. “So, Lexa, what about your family? Do you see them often?”

Lexa shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Jake remarked, sounding almost dismissive.

“Both my parents are dead,” Lexa said flatly, her voice cool. “They died in a car accident when I was young. It’s just Clarke. She’s my family now.” Her statement hung in the air, and everyone around the table grew visibly uncomfortable.

The silence was broken when Abby, eager to change the subject, asked, “So, what kind of work do you do, Lexa?”

“I just opened up my own recording studio downtown,” Lexa replied, trying to sound casual. “Clarke actually convinced me to turn it into a business.”

“I did?” Clarke asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded, glancing at Clarke. “You did.”

“Isn’t that sort of a dying field?” Monty asked, looking curious but somewhat skeptical. “I mean, can’t people record things at home now?”

“Monty,” Harper said quickly, trying to stop her fiancé from going too far.

“What?” he said, confused by the sudden tension.

Lexa cleared her throat, a little embarrassed but still determined. “Look, the records I like, they have life, warmth, and soul. Like 'Just a Kiss' by Lady Antebellum. You’re not going to get that from your computer. You need a live room, you need to bounce to tape, and you need real musicians in the room, vibing off each other. So yeah, maybe it’s a dying field, and people can record high-quality stuff at home,” Lexa said, now feeling self-conscious. “But you can’t get Lady Antebellum on your laptop.” She glanced around the table, noticing the skeptical looks. Realizing she was losing them, she fell silent.

“Wow,” Harper said, trying to ease the mood.

“Wow,” Jake echoed sarcastically. The rest of the table simply murmured “Wow,” and that was it. The conversation faltered as the awkwardness settled in, leaving everyone to eat in silence.

…

After dinner, they headed to the club. "So I heard everyone’s going to be here tonight," Harper said to her sister as they walked in.

"This kind of thing might be a bit too much for Clarke," Lexa said, looking concerned.

"Oh no, I’m actually good here," Clarke replied, brushing off Lexa’s worry. As she scanned the crowd, she spotted an old friend. "Isn’t that Fox?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah, well, we don’t really hang out anymore," Harper said, subtly trying to steer her sister away from Fox.

Clarke’s eyes lingered on the familiar face. "God, you’ve been away for a long time," she muttered under her breath.

Just then, Clarke's eyes widened as she spotted more of her old friends sitting at a table. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, rushing over.

"Good luck, man," Monty joked under his breath as Clarke moved toward the group.

"Lexa, these are my friends from high school," Clarke said, grinning. "This is Shana, Carrie, and Lizbet."

"Hi," Lexa greeted them with a friendly smile.

"Hey! What about me? I don’t get an introduction?" a voice chimed from behind them.

Clarke turned to find Bellamy standing there. "Hi," she said, a bit startled.

"Hi," Bellamy said with a warm smile. Lexa could see the change in Clarke’s demeanor at the sight of Bellamy. It bothered her more than she wanted to admit, but she tried to mask the discomfort with a stiff smile.

Clarke hesitated. "Sorry, this is..."

"Bellamy," Lexa finished the sentence, her tone a little tight.

"It’s been a long time," Bellamy said, still smiling.

"Has it?" Clarke asked, surprised.

"It doesn’t feel like it. You haven’t changed a bit," Bellamy added, causing Clarke to blush.

Lexa didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking, so she stepped in. "I’m not sure if she mentioned it, but I’m Lexa," she said firmly.

"Hi," Bellamy replied, shaking Lexa’s hand.

"Her girlfriend," Lexa added, a bit more pointedly.

"Right," Bellamy said, his eyes still on Clarke. "I’m gonna grab a drink. You guys want anything?" he asked, clearly wanting to keep the conversation going.

"Disaronno Sour?" Shana suggested.

"I’ll have a blueberry mojito," Clarke added, her voice cheerful.

"Really?" Lexa asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Yes, I remember," Bellamy said with a smile, clearly pleased to recall something about Clarke.

For a brief moment, Lexa’s face hardened as she looked at Clarke, feeling the sting of being sidelined. But Clarke didn’t seem to notice. Her focus was entirely on Bellamy, and Lexa had to fight back the hurt that bubbled up inside her.

Clarke sat down next to her friends, a nostalgic smile spreading across her face as Carrie began speaking. "Oh my god, Clarke! Do you remember when we were in ninth grade, getting ready for the Christmas Dance? We were curling your hair and ended up burning half of it!"

"I totally remember that!" Clarke laughed, shaking her head at the memory.

As her friends continued chatting and reminiscing, Lexa felt like an outsider. The conversation felt distant to her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong. Without saying anything, she quietly got up from the table and made her way to the bar, where she spent the rest of the night in solitude, nursing her drink.

…

"It was like she was this sweater-set-wearing, mojito-drinking sorority girl," Lexa said to Octavia while they worked in the studio the next day.

"Like a Stepford wife?" Octavia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, basically," Lexa replied, rolling her eyes. "She was even flirting with Bellamy right in front of me."

"Ex-fiancé Bellamy?" Octavia asked.

"Oh, no, no, no. In her mind, it’s fiancé Bellamy," Lexa pointed out, frustration creeping into her voice. "Which is probably why it was so annoying for her stranger girlfriend to cock-block her all night."

"That’s a lot to wrap my head around," Octavia said, clearly processing what Lexa had just told her.

"So what turns her on?" Octavia asked, leaning back and enjoying a break with Lexa outside.

"Clarke?" Lexa asked, confused.

"No, her mother," Octavia said jokingly, smirking. "Yes, Clarke," she clarified, pointing a finger at Lexa.

"Like... in bed?" she added with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh my god," Lexa groaned, burying her face in her hands. "What? It's private," she said, her face turning pink.

"I mean, it’s kind of between me and her, you know?" Lexa muttered, feeling embarrassed.

"Hey, I'm not gonna judge," Octavia said with a playful grin. "I mean, I'm dating Lincoln."

Lexa hesitated before speaking again, her cheeks still red. "She liked being tickled," she admitted softly.

"Seriously?" Octavia asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

…

Clarke was visiting an old friend, someone she hadn’t seen in years. As she entered the building, everyone seemed surprised to see her. She waved at the receptionist, "Hey, Lisa," before making her way down the hallway toward the office at the end.

Inside, Bellamy was on the phone, speaking seriously, "I’ve been dealing with these people for years, and I know they have—" He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Clarke walking in. Waving at her, he quickly hung up, "Something just came up, I’ll call you back," he said before focusing on her.

"Hi," Bellamy greeted with a smile.

"Hi," Clarke responded, laughing lightly at the surprise of the moment.

"Please," Bellamy gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Clarke sat down, her smile softening as she looked at him. "So, you remember that time at the lake, when you told me you’d always have my back, no matter what?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"The night in the boathouse," Bellamy nodded, recalling the memory.

"Yeah," Clarke agreed with a slight nod. "So, can you please tell me what happened with us?"

Bellamy chuckled lightly. "Only you, Clarke, can dump a guy and then come back and demand answers."

"So, I dumped you?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"A cruel, hard, pre-wedding dumping," Bellamy replied, the hurt clear in his eyes.

"Why?" Clarke asked, genuinely confused by what had happened.

"Well, that’s a question I, along with all my friends—and the two rebound girls—would love an answer to," Bellamy said, trying to hold back his bitterness.

Clarke shook her head slightly. "Come on, seriously, Bellamy. I must have had a reason."

Bellamy’s expression softened. "You... you changed," he said slowly. "You talked differently, dressed differently. You weren’t sure about law school anymore. And you definitely weren’t sure about me anymore."

Clarke paused, her eyes scanning his face. "Did I give you your ring back?"

"Yeah, you did," he said quietly.

"Who has it now?" she asked, her voice softer.

"No one yet," Bellamy replied, then added with a hint of regret, "But I’ve been with someone else."

For a brief moment, Clarke looked hurt, but she quickly covered it up, forcing a smile. Bellamy noticed. "I couldn’t wait forever, Clarke," he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

Clarke raised an eyebrow, "You couldn’t have anticipated that I’d get a brain injury, forget our break-up, and come waltzing in here demanding answers?" She laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension. "What’s wrong with you?"

They both chuckled, the moment of levity breaking the awkwardness. Clarke sighed and stood up. "I’m sorry, I’ll let you get back to your work."

"Sure," Bellamy nodded, his eyes still on her.

As Clarke stood to leave, she leaned in for a quick hug. Bellamy wrapped his arms around her, but as they pulled away, Clarke found herself kissing him before she even realized what was happening.

"Sorry," she quickly pulled back.

"I was not expecting that," Bellamy said, his voice a little stunned.

"It’s just a habit, I guess," Clarke replied, her face flushed. "Honestly, I didn’t even know where I was headed until I found myself here." She laughed, but it was a little forced. "It just seems ridiculous to me that I shut everyone out for five years. It doesn’t feel right," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she tried to hold back tears.

Chapter Text

Lexa walked into their home to find Clarke sitting among a scattered collection of photos, deep in thought. It looked like Clarke was trying to piece together something from her past. She was attempting to create a timeline, hoping it might help her remember.

"Hey," Clarke greeted her, looking up.

"Hey," Lexa replied, smiling as she walked toward her.

"How was your day?" Clarke asked, her voice soft.

"It was fine," Lexa said with a nod, unloading her things before turning to face Clarke. "I'm just happy to be home with you." She leaned in and kissed Clarke on the cheek.

Clarke looked a little puzzled at first, then gestured to the mess of photos around her. "Sorry about the mess," she said.

"No problem," Lexa said with a smile, her curiosity piqued. "What are you doing?"

Clarke explained, "I was so inspired by seeing everyone last night that I wanted to figure out what my last memory is before everything went blank."

"That’s a great idea," Lexa said, genuinely encouraging.

"I kind of rummaged through some of your stuff," Clarke added sheepishly. "I hope you don’t mind."

"It’s fine," Lexa reassured her, still smiling.

Clarke pointed to the photos laid out in front of her. "I started here. These are pictures of the things I can remember."

"That’s good, right?" Lexa asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, I guess so," Clarke replied, nodding. She paused, then continued, "The last memory I have is asking a waiter about my food. I didn’t know what was in my pasta. The next thing I remember after that is waking up in the hospital."

Clarke's face fell, confusion and frustration washing over her. "Oh, this is not happening," she mumbled to herself, feeling down.

Lexa stepped closer, her voice gentle and reassuring. "Hey, it’s okay," she said, her hand resting on Clarke's shoulder.

Feeling comforted by Lexa's presence, Clarke suddenly pulled her into a tight hug. Lexa was caught off guard, but she didn’t pull away. Clarke whispered in her ear, "Thank you."

Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke, holding her tightly. At that moment, Clarke felt safe, surrounded by Lexa's warmth and support.

…

The next morning, Clarke and Lexa made their way to Clarke’s studio. It had been a long time since Clarke had felt ready to return, but today felt different. As they entered the space, the familiar scent of paint and clay filled the air. The soft hum of fluorescent lights illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over the scattered materials and unfinished pieces. Clarke's eyes immediately went to the walls, where a collection of her drawings covered the surface. They were all of Lexa — elegant, detailed sketches that captured every curve of her face, the intensity in her eyes, the strength in her posture. Clarke stared at them, amazed by how much emotion the pieces conveyed. She had no idea she had created something so beautiful.

"It's beautiful," Clarke said softly, her voice a mix of awe and surprise. She glanced at Lexa, a bit awkward, not quite sure how to process the flood of emotions the art stirred in her.

Lexa smiled warmly, her eyes following Clarke’s gaze to the drawings. "When we first came here, you weren't sure if you liked it. But then you put on your radio, and you just started working on something. That was always when your inspiration struck," she said, her tone fond and nostalgic.

Clarke nodded, still taking in the sight of the artwork. She wandered over to a table covered with various pieces, stopping in front of a design that looked like a miniature city. It was made of clay, with a single towering skyscraper dominating the scene. The intricate details amazed her. "Did I make all of this?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

Lexa nodded, a sense of pride filling her gaze. "Yeah. You’re pretty talented," she said, the admiration in her eyes evident.

Clarke smiled, the words warming her. She looked around the room, feeling a deep connection to the space and the work that surrounded her. "It's all... incredible."

"Come here," Lexa motioned, stepping towards a nearby sculpture.

"Alright," Clarke replied, following her lead.

Lexa guided her to a piece that stood proudly on a pedestal — a sculpture of the two of them holding hands, their figures intertwined in an intimate, timeless moment. It was small, but so detailed it felt alive. "You made this for our anniversary," Lexa explained, her voice soft with affection.

Clarke’s eyes softened as she admired the piece. "It’s awesome," she said with a smile, her heart swelling with emotion.

"Yeah," Lexa nodded, her gaze lingering on the sculpture. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was cut off when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw that it was Octavia. Lexa answered immediately. "Hello, Octavia?" she asked, her tone shifting to a more serious one.

"Hi Lex, I need you to come here right now. There’s something going on," Octavia said, urgency in her voice before abruptly hanging up.

Lexa’s expression tightened as she turned to Clarke. "I’m sorry, I have to go to my studio. Will you be alright here for a moment?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

Clarke nodded, her smile reassuring. "Yeah, go ahead. I’ll see you at home."

"Okay. See you soon," Lexa said, her voice soft but with an underlying sense of urgency. She quickly left the art studio, the door clicking shut behind her as she made her way to her car.

…

Later that evening, Lexa returned home, carrying bags of takeout. The soft light from the hallway spilled into the kitchen as she walked in.

"Hey," Lexa greeted, her smile warm and tired from the day.

"Hi," Clarke responded, looking up from her seat with a smile of her own. Despite the chaos of the day, there was a calmness between them, a comfort that had grown in the space they shared.

Lexa stood in the living room, the faint sounds of movement drifting from the bedroom, a soft shuffle followed by a murmur. She paused, her eyes narrowing in confusion as she realized she wasn’t alone. "Is somebody here?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"Yes," Clarke answered, her voice quieter than usual.

Moments later, Jake emerged from the bedroom, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. He gave Lexa a sharp, almost bitter look as he entered the room. "Lexa," he said, his voice flat and distant.

"Hey," Lexa greeted him, trying to keep her tone neutral, though the tension in the air was thick.

"We thought that Clarke could come home and help her sister out with the engagement party that's coming up," Jake said with a tight grin, his words almost rehearsed. He seemed to be relishing the idea, his eyes not quite meeting Lexa's.

"It just seems like the right thing to do," Clarke chimed in, her expression almost apologetic as she glanced between her father and Lexa. "To be there for Harper."

Lexa’s brow furrowed in confusion and surprise. "Okay..." she said slowly, her mind racing to catch up. "But what about your life here?" she asked, her voice tinged with hurt. She had never expected this sudden shift, and the vulnerability in her words hung in the air between them.

Clarke didn’t answer immediately, her gaze drifting to the floor as she packed her things into a bag. "I don’t know," she said quietly, her words soft, almost resigned. "I just can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry."

Jake gave her a gentle smile, a forced warmth in his voice. "You just come out when you’re ready, honey," he said, then turned and left the house without another word.

Clarke stood there for a moment, her back to Lexa, the weight of the conversation settling heavily between them. She turned slowly, her expression softening when she saw the hurt on Lexa's face. "I’m sorry," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It’s just until after the wedding."

Lexa stepped forward, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out, trying to mask the anxiety that had been building. "I just want you to be careful, okay?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Clarke let out a soft laugh, the sound almost hollow. "I’m not joining a cult," she said, offering a half-smile. "I’m just going to stay with my family."

Lexa nodded, but there was a lingering uncertainty in her gaze. "I know... but..." she mumbled, her voice trailing off, the words caught somewhere between her desire to protect Clarke and her fear of losing her.

"But what?" Clarke asked, surprised by the hesitation in Lexa's voice. She watched her closely, noticing the way Lexa was pulling away, hiding something.

Lexa didn’t respond, her lips pressed together in a tight line. She didn’t want to push Clarke away, not now, not when her family seemed to be pulling her in so many different directions. "Can I at least give you an awkward hug?" Lexa asked, her voice soft and vulnerable.

Clarke's eyes softened, and despite the tension, she nodded. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Lexa in a quiet, fragile embrace. The hug was a mix of comfort and sadness, two people trying to find solace in each other despite the weight of everything else.

Lexa held Clarke for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of her body against hers, but eventually, she let her go. She watched as Clarke grabbed her bag and walked toward the door, her steps slow, her posture heavy with the burden of the situation. Lexa stood frozen for a moment, her heart heavy, before she finally turned and walked away, trying to push the knot in her chest away.

…

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to close in on Clarke as she sat on the edge of the examination table, nervously fiddling with her hands. The soft hum of machines and distant footsteps created a steady background noise as the doctor stood before her, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning her intently.

"So, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked, her voice warm and reassuring.

"I feel fine," Clarke replied, offering a small, uncertain smile.

"Yeah? No dizziness, disorientation, sleepiness?" The doctor leaned in slightly, as if searching for any sign of something amiss.

"Nope," Clarke said, her voice more confident now.

"Great," the doctor responded, a smile spreading across her face. "I'm very happy to hear that, and your CT scan looks excellent. Everything seems to be healing just as it should."

Clarke let out a long breath, the weight on her shoulders lightened for a moment. "Oh, what a relief," she said, her voice quieter now, but Abby, standing at the foot of the bed, interrupted her.

"So, how about your memories?" the doctor asked, shifting her focus from Clarke’s vitals to a more pressing concern.

Clarke’s stomach twisted. The question had been looming over her for weeks, and still, she had no answers. "I still can’t remember anything. That’s not normal, is it?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice.

"Listen," the doctor began, her tone sympathetic but firm, "when it comes to the brain, nothing is 'normal.' Every injury is different, and no two recoveries are the same. It’s a process. Your brain is still healing, and sometimes that means memory comes back in pieces—or not at all. It’s unpredictable."

Abby crossed her arms and let out a huff, her frustration evident. "Clarke seems perfectly herself again," she said, her voice sharp with a mix of irritation and forced optimism. "It’s wonderful."

Clarke smiled awkwardly at her mother, feeling the weight of her mother’s gaze. She could sense Abby’s eagerness to move past this, to pretend everything was fine, but Clarke wasn’t sure how to bridge that gap. She felt the tension rising between them like an invisible barrier. She desperately wanted to ask the doctor to make her leave, but instead, she gave a small, pleading glance at the doctor.

The doctor, catching the subtle cue, shifted her attention to Abby. "Mrs. Griffin, could I speak to Clarke alone for a moment, please?" she asked, her tone professional but gentle.

Abby paused, giving Clarke a long look before she finally relented. "It’s okay," Clarke said, offering her a reassuring smile. "I’m good."

Reluctantly, Abby nodded and left the room, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

"Thanks," Clarke muttered under her breath, relief flooding through her as she was finally able to breathe without her mother’s watchful eyes on her.

The doctor turned back to Clarke, her expression softening. "Clarke," she began carefully, "do you want to regain your memory?"

Clarke hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the table as she thought it over. "Yes," she said, almost too quickly, but there was a lingering doubt in her voice. "I think so... but... I’m not sure."

The doctor studied her carefully, her expression sympathetic. "Because some patients fear that when their memory returns, so does the memory of the trauma. But mercifully, that’s rarely the case," she explained.

Clarke shook her head, her gaze drifting to the window, avoiding the doctor’s eyes. "Oh no... that’s not it. I’m not afraid of the accident itself," she said quietly, as if confessing something deep inside her. "I think I’m afraid of what I’ll find when I get those memories back. What if I don’t like the life I had? Or what if I like it too much? I don’t know... I guess I’m afraid I’ll disappoint people again. I know Lexa... she has a hard time with how I am now, and I just... I don’t know," Clarke finished, her voice cracking slightly as she teetered on the edge of breaking down.

The doctor watched her with understanding, her posture leaning slightly forward, a calming presence. "Clarke," she said gently, "I only did one psych rotation, so this may be terrible advice, but..." she trailed off for a moment before speaking again. "I think you have to try and fill the holes. You can still decide you want a different life, but if you don’t at least open yourself up to remembering, I’m afraid you’re going to live in fear of your own past."

Clarke took a deep breath, the weight of the doctor’s words sinking in. She felt the pressure of her own unresolved emotions build up within her.

…

The Griffins' house was buzzing with energy, filled with the sound of laughter and chatter. The engagement party for Harper and Monty was in full swing, the elegant setting giving off an air of excitement. Lexa stepped into the crowd, a striking figure in a long, sleek black dress that clung perfectly to her curves. The dress shimmered in the light as she walked, her loose hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She moved through the crowd with a sense of quiet confidence, her eyes scanning the room. Tonight, she wasn't just another guest—she wanted to make an impression.

As she made her way through the party, Lexa bumped into Monty, who was nervously fiddling with his drink. He looked a bit out of place, his usual easygoing demeanor clouded with pre-wedding jitters.

"Hey, the countdown is on, man," Lexa teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey," Monty replied, offering a smile but clearly tense.

"One week left of your former life," Lexa grinned, crossing her arms. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel pretty good actually," Monty said, his voice carrying a note of relief, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of anxiety. "I mean, I do get a little dizzy if I think about it for too long, but I know this is the right decision."

Harper, who had been chatting nearby, overheard and walked over, her brow furrowed. "What?"

Monty quickly tried to smooth it over. "No, honey, it’s like a good dizzy. It’s more like a mix of panic and excitement," he explained, trying to ease her concerns.

Harper raised an eyebrow. "Panic and excitement are different things."

Monty chuckled. "Honey, there’s gonna be like 400 people there," he said, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Right," Harper said, her voice tinged with worry as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Hey, do you also get that tingling in your fingers?" Lexa suddenly asked, her tone lighthearted as she sipped her drink.

Monty looked at her, confused. "Yeah, is that bad?"

Lexa raised an eyebrow. "Do you listen to Radiohead?"

"Uh-huh," Monty replied, still puzzled by the sudden turn in conversation.

"Thom Yorke, he talks about dizzy spells all the time," Lexa said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "He says when his fingers tingle, that’s when he knows he’s creating something genius. And then he gets so amped up playing that he almost passes out. Monty, I think you’re on the verge of genius."

Monty’s face broke into a grin. "That’s cool," he said, his earlier anxiety slipping away. "Thanks."

Before they could continue, Monty’s mother appeared, calling him over to introduce him to someone. Lexa was left standing alone with Harper.

"So, is that true?" Harper asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

"Uh-huh," Lexa replied with a smile, grabbing another drink.

Just then, Clarke entered the room, her presence like a breath of fresh air. She walked toward Lexa, her smile warm and inviting, but there was a hint of surprise in her eyes when she saw her.

"Lexa?" Clarke asked, her voice soft with a touch of disbelief.

"Hey, Clarke," Lexa replied, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Clarke blushed, her cheeks flushing at the compliment.

Lexa smiled, taking a moment to admire her before continuing, "Okay, I’ve been thinking about something."

"Okay," Clarke said with a smile, clearly intrigued.

"What’s your favorite book?" Lexa asked, her tone playful yet earnest.

Clarke looked at her with a quizzical expression. "It’s probably not what you remember," she said with a small laugh.

"That’s fine," Lexa said, shrugging. "That’s not the point."

"The 100 by Kass Morgan," Clarke answered, a glint of nostalgia in her eyes.

"No way," Lexa said, laughing lightly. "Really?"

"Yeah," Clarke replied, her smile warm as she nodded.

"Okay, The 100 ," Lexa repeated, her grin widening. "Okay, if it was great, you probably loaned it to someone, right?"

"Yeah," Clarke said, thinking for a moment. "Harper, I think."

Lexa leaned in slightly, a playful spark in her eyes. "Okay, and you probably said to yourself, ‘God, I wish I was the person who hadn’t read it yet. So I could experience it all over again.’"

Clarke laughed softly, nodding. "Yeah, I guess so."

"That’s how I think we should look at us," Lexa said, her voice turning more serious, yet gentle. "You can’t remember how we met. And you can’t remember how we fell in love. And in a way, that sucks. But it was the greatest time of my life. I just thought... how cool would it be to get to experience that all over again?"

"Like reading your favorite book for the first time," Clarke added with a smile, her voice soft but full of understanding.

"Exactly," Lexa said, her heart swelling with hope. "I got you."

Clarke met her gaze, her smile deepening. "Which is why I wanted to ask you out on a date," Lexa added, her voice a little quieter now, the words heavy with meaning.

"A date?" Clarke asked, her eyebrows furrowing slightly in surprise.

"Like two people who are just meeting for the first time," Lexa explained, her voice almost desperate, as if clinging to the hope that Clarke would agree.

Clarke paused for a moment, the air between them thick with anticipation. Then, her face lit up with a smile. "I’d love to," she said, her voice steady, the words a promise.

Lexa's heart soared as relief washed over her. "Alright," she said with a bright, relieved smile. "This is it." She could hardly contain her happiness. Maybe this was their second chance, after all.

…

The following day, Lexa took Clarke out for a special day, one that felt both familiar and new. They went to Gustus' Café, a cozy little spot they used to frequent before the accident. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air as they walked in. The café, with its warm, inviting ambiance, hadn’t changed. It was as if no time had passed at all. Clarke smiled, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the comfortable setting that held so many memories.

Lexa went up to the counter and ordered their usual, a cappuccino for herself and a chai latte for Clarke. When the drinks arrived, they found a corner booth by the window. The sunlight filtered through the leaves outside, casting dappled shadows on the table. They settled in, taking a sip of their drinks, the taste familiar and comforting. It was quiet, just the two of them for now, the world outside slowly passing by.

"This feels nice," Clarke said, gazing out the window for a moment before meeting Lexa’s eyes.

Lexa smiled, a soft warmth spreading in her chest. "Yeah, it does."

After finishing their drinks, Lexa drove them to a nearby lake. The air was crisp and fresh, the scent of pine trees lingering in the breeze. The lake, nestled between towering trees, had always been a place of solace for them both. It was where they would go to escape, to challenge each other to see who could stay in the cold water the longest. It was a game they always played, one where Clarke, as usual, triumphed.

They waded into the lake, the shock of the cold water making them both gasp. Lexa looked at Clarke, grinning mischievously. "Ready to lose?" she teased.

Clarke smirked. "You know I’m always going to win this."

The water was freezing, and they both fought the instinct to jump out as it seeped into their bones. But they stayed, stubbornly staring each other down, their laughter echoing across the lake. Lexa’s teeth chattered, but she held out, determined. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Clarke pulled ahead, wading out of the lake with a triumphant smile.

"You won again," Lexa admitted, shivering as she followed Clarke out.

The cold air hit them like a wave as they rushed to the car, their skin still wet and their bodies shivering from the icy water. Once inside the car, Clarke rubbed her arms, trying to warm up, her hands like ice.

"My hands are frozen," Clarke complained, her voice small and slightly breathless from the cold.

Lexa glanced over at her, a smile tugging at her lips despite the cold. "Come here," she said softly. Without hesitation, she reached for Clarke’s hand, gently pulling it into hers. She blew on it, the warmth of her breath soothing the chill.

Clarke’s eyes softened, the gesture so familiar and comforting. "Thank you," she said, offering a shy smile.

When they arrived home, the cold still lingering on their skin, Lexa grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around Clarke, her fingers brushing over the soft fabric. Clarke settled onto the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. Lexa sat beside her, still shivering from the chill.

"I really enjoyed this, Lexa," Clarke said, her voice sincere as she glanced over at Lexa, the blanket settled around her shoulders.

"Me too," Lexa replied with a smile, but it was clear she was still cold, her lips slightly blue and her teeth chattering. She didn’t want to make things awkward, so she handed the blanket over to Clarke.

"You’re freezing," Clarke said, her tone soft with concern.

"I’m okay," Lexa said with a small smile, though her eyes betrayed how uncomfortable she felt.

Clarke shook her head, not buying it for a second. "No, you’re not. Come here." Without waiting for a response, she pulled Lexa closer, wrapping the blanket around her as well. Lexa moved closer, a little hesitant but thankful for the warmth.

The two of them sat there for a moment, the silence comfortable but filled with an unspoken tension. Lexa turned to face Clarke, her eyes locking with hers for a fleeting second. There was something in the air between them, a charge that neither could ignore. Clarke found herself lost in Lexa's gaze, her heart beating faster in her chest.

For a brief moment, everything else disappeared. It was just the two of them, and Clarke felt something stir inside her—a spark she couldn’t deny.

She leaned in, her lips gently brushing against Lexa's. The kiss was soft, tentative, as if they were both unsure of what it meant. Lexa kissed her back, slow and careful, waiting for Clarke’s reaction, her heart racing in her chest.

After a few seconds, Clarke pulled away, her breath shallow, her eyes wide. She stared into Lexa's green eyes, searching for something—an answer, an understanding. Her stomach fluttered, and a warmth spread through her as she realized how deeply she had missed this. She had spent the last few days with Lexa, reconnecting with her in small moments, and it felt like they were beginning something new, something beautiful.

"I did not expect that," Lexa said, her voice tinged with surprise, and her cheeks flushed with color.

"Ssst," Clarke whispered, her hand resting on Lexa’s cheek as she leaned in again, this time with more certainty. Lexa met her halfway, kissing her back without hesitation, her arms wrapping around Clarke as if she never wanted to let go.

This time, the kiss deepened, the tension between them melting away as they lost themselves in each other.

Chapter Text

That same night, Lexa drove Clarke home. The car slowed to a stop in front of Clarke’s house, and Lexa stepped out to open the door for her. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the sidewalk, the night air cool and crisp as Lexa smiled at Clarke.

"Thank you for coming out with me tonight," Lexa said, her voice warm and genuine. The evening had been filled with moments that felt like they were slowly rebuilding something fragile, something precious.

Clarke returned the smile, her eyes soft with contentment. "I had a really nice time," she said, her words sincere as she made her way toward the front door of her parents’ house. She had one hand resting lightly on the handle, but just as she was about to step inside, Lexa’s voice stopped her.

"I’ve missed you," Lexa confessed before she could stop herself. The words spilled out, raw and unguarded. "I miss our life together. I miss being with you." Her heart was pounding in her chest, each word feeling like both a release and a weight. She looked at Clarke, her eyes searching for some kind of response, something to hold onto.

Clarke turned to face her, a small smile tugging at her lips. But before she could say anything, Lexa added, almost too quickly, "I love you." She blushed, a soft pink creeping across her cheeks, suddenly aware of how vulnerable she had made herself. She tried to pull herself together, but the words felt too big to take back now.

For a moment, Clarke stood there, silent, her eyes flicking to the ground, unsure of how to respond. There was an awkward tension in the air between them. Finally, she looked up at Lexa, her expression a mix of sincerity and uncertainty.

"I… I don’t remember my feelings," Clarke said quietly, her voice tinged with sadness.

Lexa's heart sank, and for a moment, she felt foolish for laying her emotions bare. "Yeah, I understand," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the face of Clarke’s uncertainty.

But Clarke wasn’t finished. She took a step closer to Lexa, shaking her head slightly. "No, it’s not that," she corrected herself. "But when I’m around you, something does feel right." She paused, looking up at Lexa with a soft gaze. "I don’t know why, but it does."

Lexa was taken aback, her chest tightening at Clarke's words. It was like a flicker of hope ignited within her, something she hadn’t expected to hear. But before Lexa could say anything else, Clarke had already turned and walked inside, leaving Lexa standing there, her heart both full and aching.

Lexa stood frozen for a moment, desperately wanting to follow, to stay close to Clarke, to find some way to bridge the gap between them. But instead, she turned and made her way back to her car. She sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment, staring at the house, before finally pulling away into the night.

…

Clarke walked into her parents' house, the familiar scent of home filling her senses. She absentmindedly dropped her keys into the bowl by the door before making her way toward the living room.

Harper looked up from the couch, offering a warm, welcoming smile. "Hey," she greeted, her voice light and cheerful.

Clarke was surprised to see her sister there. "Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of surprise as she stopped by the doorway.

Harper raised an eyebrow, her playful smile growing. "Were you out with Bellamy?" she teased.

Clarke shook her head, a small laugh escaping her despite herself. "No!" she replied quickly, then smiled softly. "I was with Lexa."

Harper’s expression softened as she gave a gentle nod, clearly pleased. "I like her," she said, her tone supportive.

"Yeah. Me too," Clarke murmured, but the smile quickly faded. She felt a lump in her throat, the weight of everything she’d been holding back threatening to spill over. The thought of Lexa, of the connection they had, brought so many emotions to the surface, emotions Clarke hadn’t fully allowed herself to feel until now.

Harper noticed the shift in her sister’s expression, her smile fading into concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.

Clarke shook her head, trying to hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes. She could feel the pressure building, the walls she had so carefully constructed starting to crumble. She tried to breathe, tried to keep herself together, but it was too much. Before she knew it, tears streamed down her face, her shoulders trembling as she fought to regain control.

Harper set aside the book she had been reading and stood up quickly, walking toward Clarke with gentle urgency. "Clarke," she said softly, her hands reaching out to her sister. "I’ve never seen you like this."

Clarke sniffled, her voice shaky. "I don’t know what’s me," she confessed, feeling utterly lost. "I don’t know who I am anymore."

Harper didn’t hesitate for a second. She wrapped her arms around Clarke, pulling her into a tight hug. "It’s okay," she whispered. "You don’t have to have it all figured out right now." She held her sister close, offering the comfort Clarke so desperately needed, her own heart aching for the pain she saw in Clarke’s eyes.

Clarke clung to her, letting the tears fall freely, her body shaking with the weight of everything she couldn’t say. Harper didn’t let go, her presence steady and reassuring. The embrace was a small but powerful reminder that, even in the midst of uncertainty, she wasn’t alone.

…

The next day, Lexa met up with her friends in town, and they walked together down the familiar street, the sun casting a warm glow over the pavement. As they strolled, Lexa broke the silence, her voice filled with quiet reflection.

"Look, it was just like it used to be," she began, her smile soft but genuine. "Actually, it was better." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, before continuing. "Everything I fell in love with about Clarke is still there."

Raven, who had been walking alongside her, raised an eyebrow, her tone a little concerned. "You know, to you, it probably felt like confirmation of your love, right? But to her, it might have felt more like a really great first date."

Lexa nodded thoughtfully, taking in Raven’s perspective. "You’re right," she admitted, "but still, it felt real. There’s something there."

Lincoln, who had been listening quietly, let out a playful chuckle. "Well, you know what they say—you’ve got to wait the requisite three days before you call."

Lexa laughed, shaking her head at his teasing. "Wait three days to call my own girlfriend?" she asked incredulously. "That’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?"

"At least," Octavia chimed in with a grin. "This is a unique situation. Maybe even longer."

Lexa’s smile widened at their teasing but didn’t waver. "It can’t be longer. I’m going to see her at the wedding on Saturday." She beamed with certainty, a light in her eyes. "I’m telling you, there’s still that spark between us."

Lincoln raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical look. "Obvious to her, or to you?" he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

Lexa’s smile grew even brighter. "To both of us," she said with a confident nod, the joy of possibility lighting up her face. "I’m sure of it."

…

Clarke was spending a quiet evening at home with her parents, the soft hum of the house around them. She sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine, when her mother walked into the living room, her expression businesslike.

"Clarke, we need to start writing out those place cards after dinner," Abby said, her voice gentle but firm.

"Yes, Mom," Clarke replied, nodding absently as she continued flipping the pages.

Before she could get back to her thoughts, Jake sat down next to her on the couch, a small, excited grin spreading across his face. "Clarke, before we dive into the place cards, I have a little surprise for you."

"Surprise?" Clarke looked up at her father, a confused smile tugging at her lips.

"You remember Marcus Kane, right?" Jake began, his voice casual, though there was a hint of pride in it. "He taught constitutional law at Northwestern. We were on law review together. We've known each other forever. Well, he’s the dean of the Law School now, and they’ve agreed to let you back in."

Clarke blinked, still processing his words. "What? Back in? I don’t understand," she said, furrowing her brow.

Abby, who had been quietly listening from the doorway, stepped into the room and cut in before Jake could explain further. "Clarke, we talked about this... your father took care of it."

Clarke turned to her father, a mixture of surprise and disbelief crossing her face. "I didn’t even apply, Dad."

Jake’s grin widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "I took care of it," he repeated, his voice warm with pride. "They’re giving you a second chance."

Clarke shook her head slowly, trying to wrap her mind around it. "This is crazy," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. "I feel like I’m getting a free do-over in life." She let out a small laugh, still trying to comprehend the weight of the opportunity in front of her.

…

That night, Lexa returned home after spending the day with her friends. Her mind was heavy with thoughts—mostly about the mounting medical bills from the hospital. The weight of it all felt overwhelming, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was alone in trying to handle it. She knew she needed help, but she wasn’t sure where to turn. The pressure of it all seemed to press down on her as she entered her home, the familiar surroundings offering little comfort.

…

The day of Harper and Monty’s wedding arrived faster than either of them expected. Saturday had come, and Lexa had spent the morning carefully selecting a stunning dress to impress Clarke. She felt a mix of excitement and nerves as she prepared for the evening ahead. The ceremony itself was beautiful, a perfect blend of love and joy, and the atmosphere was filled with laughter and celebration.

The wedding seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and by the time the evening rolled around, the reception was in full swing. The garden was alive with chatter and music, but Lexa felt strangely disconnected. She had barely exchanged any words with Clarke all day, and now, as she wandered aimlessly through the sprawling grounds, she couldn’t help but feel a little lost.

She made her way to the edge of the garden, seeking solace in the tranquil view of the surrounding nature. The soft rustling of the leaves and the cool evening breeze helped ease her mind, but it wasn’t enough to distract her for long. She wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings when she was suddenly interrupted by Jake Griffin’s voice.

"You look like you could use a drink," he said with a grin, holding up a bottle of whiskey.

Lexa turned around, managing a small smile. "I’ve already had several."

"But you haven’t had this," he countered, uncorking the bottle and pouring two glasses.

Reluctantly, Lexa accepted the drink. She hadn’t expected to be having a conversation with Clarke’s father, especially not after everything that had happened. She took a sip, the burn of the whiskey making her feel momentarily grounded.

Jake glanced at her, his tone shifting to something more serious. "I’m glad we’re having a moment alone," he said, almost as though he’d been waiting for this. "I haven’t gotten a chance to really talk to you, Lexa."

"Yeah," she responded stiffly, "congratulations."

Jake didn’t seem to notice her discomfort as he took a slow sip of his drink. He studied her for a moment, before speaking again, his voice low. "I’ve been thinking," he began, his gaze hardening slightly. "And I think it’s probably time to let us take it from here."

Lexa furrowed her brow. "Take what?"

"Things with Clarke," he said, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Look, I know she didn’t have health insurance because you chose to live a certain way. And I know you must be drowning in debt. But I also know a way out of this."

Confused and a little unsettled, Lexa took another sip of her drink. "What’s that?"

"Leave her," Jake said bluntly, his words cold. "The bills have only just begun, Lexa."

A chill ran down Lexa’s spine. "Mr. Griffin," she spat, "I don’t think this is the time or the place to discuss this."

Jake shrugged, undeterred. "Fine," he muttered. "If you don’t care about losing your business, which clearly, you don’t, what about Clarke? What about doing what’s obviously the right thing for her?"

Lexa’s eyes narrowed. "And you know what’s right for her?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Jake replied, his voice rising in frustration.

Lexa’s anger boiled over. "You’re such a hypocrite," she snapped, her voice harsh.

"What did you say?" Jake demanded, his irritation now fully visible.

Lexa didn’t back down. "If you’re such a family man, how come I never saw you make any effort to put things back together with Clarke?" she challenged, her voice dripping with contempt. "You’re a coward."

With that, she turned on her heel, storming past him and into the house, her heart pounding. She had never been this bold with Jake before, but tonight, something inside her snapped. As she walked away, she could feel the weight of the conversation lingering in the air, but she wasn’t going to let it affect her. Not tonight.

…

Lexa sank into the couch in the living room, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her chest. The evening had been a blur of conversation, laughter, and noise, but all she could focus on were the worries that had been gnawing at her for days. The endless bills, the uncertainty of Clarke’s feelings, the guilt of everything left unsaid. The moment she thought she could finally breathe, it all felt like too much.

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up to see Bellamy approaching, drink in hand, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Hey, can I introduce you around a little bit?” he asked, his voice casual. “Can’t feel good to be the odd one out.”

Lexa’s lips tightened, but she met his gaze. “I’m not the odd one out.”

Bellamy didn’t seem convinced, his grin widening. “Alright. If you say so. You just seem a little creepy over here all by yourself.”

Her patience was thinning, the weight of the evening already too heavy to carry. “I’m just waiting for Clarke,” Lexa said, her words sharp, but her eyes betraying a trace of the vulnerability she was trying to mask.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, sensing something more beneath her cool exterior. “Alright, well. Best of luck with that.” He started to walk away, but something in Lexa’s chest tightened, urging her to speak up.

“You like this, right?” Lexa called after him, her voice laced with frustration. She didn’t wait for him to turn around before continuing. “Clarke leaves you behind, goes on to build this life with someone else, someone no one gets, and now you get to watch her reject all that.”

Bellamy paused, turning back with a half-amused, half-uncertain expression. “I’m sorry. Like what?”

Lexa’s laugh was bitter, her jaw clenching as she tried to keep her composure. “Like the fact that she told me everything about you, Bellamy. She told me that when she was with you, she would wake up in the middle of the night, panicked, wondering, ‘Is this all there is?’”

Bellamy’s expression faltered, a flash of discomfort passing over him, but he quickly covered it with a scoff. “Wow. She told you everything, huh?”

Lexa’s eyes darkened as she nodded, but she couldn’t help the sting in her chest. “Mmhm. She did.”

Bellamy leaned in, his voice lowering with a touch of arrogance. “Did she tell you that she threw herself at me the other day? Did she tell you that? Or did she stop telling you everything when she forgot who the hell you were?”

Lexa recoiled at the words, her breath catching in her throat. She’d known Bellamy could be cruel, but hearing him speak about Clarke like that — like she was some kind of possession — cut deeper than she expected. She fought to stay steady, to not let the anger consume her.

“Look,” she said, her voice steady despite the fire burning inside. “I get why you’re being such a dick. You obviously love her, and you think you’re going to get her back. But the thing is, she outgrew you. What makes you think that won’t happen again?”

Bellamy’s smirk grew, a harsh laugh escaping him. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll mull it over while I’m in bed with your girlfriend,” he sneered.

The words hit her like a slap to the face. The image of him with Clarke — it was too much to bear. The rage bubbled up from somewhere deep inside, and before she could stop herself, her hand shot out, connecting with Bellamy’s face in a sharp, resounding slap.

He stumbled backward, crashing to the ground in surprise, and a stunned silence fell over the group surrounding them. Lexa’s chest heaved as she stood over him, her heart pounding with adrenaline and fury.

Everyone around them was watching now, eyes wide in shock. But Lexa didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let Bellamy belittle Clarke, or her, any longer. The hurt was too raw, and the anger — it had built up for far too long.

Without another word, Lexa turned on her heel, leaving Bellamy on the ground, stunned and humiliated, as she walked away.

…

“Lexa!” Clarke’s voice rang out in surprise, and Lexa froze, her heart stuttering in her chest. She quickly turned around, desperate to leave the confrontation, only to see Bellamy on the ground, blood trickling from his nose. A wave of guilt hit her like a slap. What had she just done?

But there was no time to dwell on it. Clarke was walking toward her, her face a mixture of anger and confusion. Lexa’s stomach tightened, but she forced herself to face the one person who had once been everything to her.

“Clarke, wait!” she pleaded, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Clarke demanded, her voice shaking, her face a portrait of disbelief.

“I don’t know.” Lexa’s voice cracked, her own frustration spilling out. “That’s a really good question, because I’ve been driving myself insane, making a complete ass of myself!” She stepped closer to Clarke, her chest tightening with every word. “Literally trying everything possible to save what we have—everything I can think of—and I just keep watching it slip through my fingers!” Lexa’s voice rose as she let out a frustrated laugh, full of bitterness and helplessness. “And you’ve been throwing yourself at Bellamy…”

Clarke’s face fell, her eyes wide with shock and pain. “That’s not fair,” she whispered, her voice small.

“Not fair?” Lexa scoffed, her words sharp and full of raw hurt. Her hands trembled at her sides. “I see the way you look at him. I know, Clarke. I used to see you look at me like that. Like I was everything to you.” Lexa’s breath hitched, her throat tightening as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. The pain in her chest felt like it might shatter her. She couldn’t mask it anymore. The walls she’d spent months building around her emotions crumbled in an instant. “I can’t keep pretending it’s not killing me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I still love you. I don’t know how to let go.”

Clarke’s face softened with an expression Lexa couldn’t quite read, and she looked down, her own pain evident in the way her shoulders slumped. After a long pause, she met Lexa’s gaze again, but her voice faltered. “Lexa… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“No, I think we just need to start being realistic,” Lexa said, her voice trembling now, the raw honesty cutting through the fog of confusion. She looked down, forcing herself to meet Clarke’s gaze one last time. “Your memory’s not coming back. The fact is, I’m still just a stranger to you.”

Clarke’s face crumpled, a broken sob escaping her before she could contain it. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall in soft streams. “But I’m so tired of disappointing you, Lexa.” The vulnerability in her voice made Lexa’s heart ache, but the truth still stung like acid.

“I know,” Lexa replied quietly, her eyes filling with her own tears. She wanted to hold Clarke, tell her everything would be okay, but she knew the truth of it: there was no fixing this. Not now.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke said, stepping toward her, her voice desperate. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I’ll apologize to Monty and Harper,” Lexa murmured, her words heavy, almost robotic. She couldn’t even bring herself to care about the wedding now—about the place and the time and the people. It didn’t matter anymore.

“No! God, no. It’s fine,” Clarke said, her voice breaking as she cried, her hands trembling. “Wedding disasters have a way of turning into great stories… eventually.”

The words hit Lexa like a punch to the gut. Her heart shattered, and the tears fell freely, unrestrained now. She wiped at her eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She took a step back, her heart feeling as though it were being torn in two.

“How do you look at the girl you love,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, “and tell yourself it’s time to walk away?” Her chest heaved with the weight of the question, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. She turned away from Clarke, her steps unsteady as she fled from the scene, desperate to escape the pain she could no longer hold in.

Clarke’s voice echoed behind her, calling her name. “Lexa?”

Lexa stopped but didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. If she did, she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to leave. But then Clarke’s voice reached her again, broken, filled with sorrow. “I hope one day I can love the way you love me.”

The words hit Lexa like a punch to the chest, but they also carried a glimmer of hope. Maybe one day, Clarke would remember. Maybe one day, they could find their way back. But for now, Lexa had to walk away.

“You figured it out once,” Lexa said, her voice barely a whisper, as she finally turned to face Clarke one last time. “You’ll do it again.”

And then, with one final, tear-filled glance, Lexa walked away, leaving everything behind.

Chapter Text

Lexa walked into her studio, the weight of the evening pressing down on her chest. Her thoughts were a swirl of pain and confusion, but there was nothing left to do but retreat into her familiar space—her sanctuary where she could try to forget what had happened with Clarke. She slumped into the corner, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing thoughts.

The studio, once a place of creativity and comfort, now felt cold and distant. She closed her eyes, letting the silence wash over her, but it didn’t help. The image of Clarke’s face—the hurt, the distance—kept flashing in her mind.

It felt like she was suffocating.

“Shit,” Octavia’s voice broke through the silence, and Lexa’s eyes shot open. She hadn’t expected anyone to be there. Octavia stood across from her, wiping down equipment with a cloth, but her eyes were fixed on Lexa, full of concern.

“You’re here. Not there. Are you okay?” Octavia asked, her voice gentle, but there was a note of worry beneath it. She knew Lexa too well to ignore the pain radiating from her.

Lexa let out a shaky breath, wiping her eyes quickly. “I’m done. We broke up. I give up,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, but she tried her best to sound like she was in control. She wasn’t. Not anymore.

Octavia stepped closer, her brow furrowed. “No, you never give up, Lexa. You fight for the ones you love.”

Lexa shook her head, frustration building in her chest. “No. If we were meant to be together, we would be together,” she spat, almost bitterly. “I don’t even recognize the woman I’m fighting for anymore.” Her heart shattered with every word, but she couldn’t stop herself. The pain felt unbearable, and she wanted to lash out. “It’s like I’m invisible to her.”

Octavia stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes softening. She crossed the room and sat down beside Lexa, her presence steady, a silent comfort.

“I was just thinking about the first time I met her,” Lexa continued, her voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. The memories flooded back like a rush of water. “It was such an amazing day. I loved every part of it. We laughed, we talked about everything, and nothing else mattered. And now, that’s just… gone.”

Tears welled in her eyes again, but she couldn’t stop them. She had tried for so long to keep herself together, but tonight had broken her. “I remember the first time she told me she loved me. It was in this tiny Greek restaurant. She just looked at me and mumbled it, like she was saying it to herself, like it was something she couldn’t even believe. And I remember thinking… ‘this is it. She loves me.’”

A sob escaped her throat, but she kept going, unable to stop herself now. “It only took her two weeks to fall in love with me, before…” Her voice cracked, and she wiped at her eyes, but it didn’t help. “Before she forgot me.”

Octavia’s heart ached for her, but she said nothing, letting Lexa get it all out. She could see how broken Lexa was, and it made her own heart ache in turn. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

“She doesn’t love me,” Lexa whispered, her voice barely audible as she stood up, her legs shaking beneath her. She couldn’t sit in that corner anymore, couldn’t stay in the studio, suffocating in the pain. She needed to leave, to get away from everything—even if it meant running from the one place that used to feel like home.

Without another word, Lexa turned and left the studio, the door clicking softly behind her as Octavia watched her go. The studio felt emptier now, the weight of Lexa’s heartache lingering in the air like a heavy fog.

…

Clarke was walking down the aisles of the supermarket when she rounded a corner and froze. Standing in front of her, looking almost the same but older, was Diane.

"Diane?" Clarke's voice cracked, a mixture of surprise and confusion in her tone.

Diane’s eyes widened, clearly recognizing Clarke instantly. "Hey. How are you?" she asked, offering a tight smile.

Clarke blinked, trying to process the sudden appearance of her old friend. "I... I'm good," she said slowly, though her voice lacked conviction. "What are you doing here?"

Diane shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Clarke's gaze. "Listen... I know it’s been years," she started, her voice hesitant. "I was away for a while."

Clarke frowned, unsure of what she meant. "Away? Where? Why?" The confusion in her voice deepened.

Diane’s face tightened with guilt as she took a deep breath. "I never had the chance to apologize... I was just going through a really weird time. But your dad ended it, as soon as your mom confronted him about... about us." She looked at Clarke, her expression full of regret. "I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I know I’m probably reopening old wounds, but I’ve been carrying this around, and I felt like I needed to say it."

Clarke stood still, her heart pounding in her chest, a cold wave of disbelief washing over her. Her brain couldn’t fully comprehend what Diane was saying, and yet it felt like everything inside of her was breaking.

"No," Clarke muttered, her voice trembling as the anger slowly began to rise. "I’m glad you said something, but I don’t... I don’t even know how to process this."

Diane seemed to sense Clarke’s unease and added, "You were always a really good friend. I just wish I could’ve returned the favor... I never meant for everything to happen like this."

Clarke’s mind was spinning, the pieces of a puzzle she never wanted to complete clicking into place. But before she could say another word, Harper’s voice broke through the tension.

“The bread was bad, so I got some pancakes instead for tomorrow,” Harper said, walking up casually, unaware of the storm brewing between the two women.

The moment Harper appeared, Diane quickly excused herself, giving Clarke a nervous look before making a hasty exit.

Clarke stared at Diane for a moment, feeling a mix of rage and disbelief. She wanted to scream, but instead, she turned to face Harper, her blood boiling.

"You knew," Clarke spat, her voice sharp and filled with venom. "You knew the whole time?!"

Harper's face crumpled, guilt flooding her expression. She opened her mouth to speak but struggled to find the words. "I’m sorry, Clarke... I should’ve told you sooner," she said, holding back tears. "But I didn’t know how—"

Clarke’s anger erupted like a volcano. She shook her head, her chest tightening with frustration. "You didn’t know how? How could you not tell me? How could you keep something like this from me?!" Her voice cracked as the weight of the betrayal pressed down on her.

"I didn’t want to hurt you," Harper whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I never meant for you to find out like this."

Clarke’s fists clenched at her sides, and she took a step back, her eyes burning with fury. "Don’t talk to me. Don’t you dare talk to me right now."

"Clarke," Harper pleaded, her voice cracking. "Please. Let’s talk about this. I’m so sorry. Please just—"

But Clarke couldn’t hear her anymore. The words, the shock, the pain—they were all too much. Clarke spun on her heel and stormed out of the aisle, ignoring her sister's desperate calls.

"Clarke! Clarke! Clarke!" Harper’s voice echoed down the aisle, but Clarke didn’t stop. She didn’t look back. The betrayal was too deep, the heartbreak too raw. She couldn’t stay there, couldn’t face her sister, not after everything she had just learned.

…

Clarke pulled into the driveway, the weight of everything still pressing down on her chest. She stepped off her bike and tossed it on the ground, her movements sharp and angry. She spotted her mother, Abby, kneeling in the garden, tending to the flowers with a peaceful expression. But Clarke’s heart was too full of fury to care about the tranquility of the moment.

"Hey, where have you been all day, stranger?" Abby asked, her voice light and teasing, oblivious to the storm brewing inside her daughter.

Clarke didn’t bother to respond with a greeting. Instead, she threw herself into the confrontation, her voice laced with bitterness. "I ran into Diane at the store. That’s why I left, isn’t it? Because I found out?" She scoffed, her eyes burning with anger. "You couldn’t even tell me the truth, could you?"

Abby froze, her hand halting mid-air as she avoided Clarke’s gaze. The guilt was written all over her face.

"Mom," Clarke spat, her voice thick with emotion. "I barely even know who I am right now, and then it turns out you’ve been lying to me. You’ve been using my accident to rewrite the past like I’m some kind of puzzle you can fix." She was shaking now, the hurt spilling out despite her best efforts to hold it in.

Abby’s eyes welled with tears as she looked up, her face full of regret. "I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Clarke’s breath hitched in her chest, but she couldn’t stop herself from reacting. "Do you have any idea how betrayed I feel right now?" She took a step back, her fists clenched. "You’ve been pretending everything was fine when I was drowning in confusion and pain!"

"I’m sorry, Clarke," Abby said softly, tears spilling from her eyes. "We were happier than we’d been in years…"

Clarke’s eyes flashed with frustration. "Mom," she said through gritted teeth, trying to control her emotions, but it was hard. "You had me back. You had me back on your terms, and now this—this is how you repay me?"

"Back on your terms!" Clarke shouted, the anger finally overwhelming her. "You expect me to just forgive you because you wanted the illusion of a perfect family again?! You did this because you needed it, not because of me!"

Abby reached out, pleading, but Clarke pulled away, her emotions too raw. "No," she snapped, voice shaking. "You don’t get to make it all better just because it suits you."

"Clarke!" Abby begged, her voice desperate, the tears flowing freely now. "Please, I just wanted us to be a family again. You’ve been through so much, and I wanted—"

Clarke couldn’t stand it any longer. She turned on her heel, her voice venomous. "He cheated on you with my friend!" she yelled. "How could you stay with him after that? How could you let him do that to you and to me?"

Abby stood there, speechless for a moment, as if the question had knocked the wind out of her. She swallowed hard, gathering the courage to speak again. "I was going to leave. I was," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I was ready to walk away, but then one afternoon, I was alone in the house, looking at all the photographs of you and your sister. I saw our family— our family. And in that moment, it hit me that no matter how hard it was, no matter how much he hurt me, the most important thing in the world was that we were together. So I stayed."

Clarke’s chest tightened as she listened, the raw emotion in her mother’s voice nearly breaking her. Her eyes fell to the ground, unable to meet her mother’s gaze as tears welled up in her own. "So you just wiped it all away? Just ignored the truth?" she asked, her voice small, hurt.

"No," Abby said softly, stepping toward Clarke with caution. "I chose to stay with him for all the things he had done right, not to leave him for the one thing he had done wrong. I chose to forgive him."

Clarke looked up at her mother, the pain clear in her eyes, the walls starting to crumble. "Maybe Lexa was right," she whispered, her heart heavy with doubt. "Maybe I can’t figure out who I am, and still be around all of you. Maybe I’m just… too broken for any of this."

Abby’s face crumpled, her hand outstretched toward her daughter. "Clarke, please—"

But Clarke didn’t wait. She didn’t stay to hear her mother’s apology, didn’t let herself be swayed by the sorrow in Abby’s voice. Instead, she turned away, her heart full of unspeakable pain, and walked toward the house, her footsteps slow but resolute.

Abby stood in the garden, her heart breaking, unable to bridge the distance between them.

…

"I still feel a little chilly. I don’t care what you say," Lexa muttered to Costia, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders as they walked down the street toward her house.

Costia laughed softly, "That’s fine, you don’t have to listen to me."

As they approached the front door, Lexa’s gaze shifted, and she froze when she saw Clarke sitting on the steps, her posture tense and her eyes clouded with something Lexa couldn’t quite place.

"Clarke?" Lexa asked, surprise clear in her voice.

Clarke looked up at Lexa, her face shifting into something between guilt and sadness. When she saw Costia standing beside her, she stood up quickly. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I should go."

"Wait," Lexa called out, stepping forward, her heart tightening. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with concern.

Clarke hesitated, a faint hurt flickering across her face, before she mumbled, "Uhm... I just needed to talk."

Lexa could see the vulnerability in Clarke’s eyes, and it made her instinctively turn to Costia. "Look, you two obviously need to talk," Costia said, offering a small smile, though she looked uncertain. "I’m just gonna go."

"Okay," Lexa nodded, giving Costia a reassuring smile. "Talk to you later."

Costia gave them both a quiet wave before walking away, leaving Lexa and Clarke alone. The air between them felt thick with unspoken words.

"Okay, bye," Lexa muttered, turning back to Clarke, who had remained standing, still uncertain.

Clarke opened her mouth to speak but paused, taking a deep breath. "I’m... I’m sorry," she finally said, her voice barely audible.

Lexa’s heart ached at the words, and she walked toward Clarke, her voice gentle as she asked, "What happened?"

Clarke took a hesitant step closer, her hands wringing together in front of her. "Can I ask you something?" she asked, her eyes searching Lexa’s face for some kind of reassurance.

Lexa gave her a small, comforting smile. "Yeah. You can always ask me anything," she replied, her heart in her throat.

Clarke swallowed hard before asking the question that had been plaguing her. "Did you know about my dad’s affair?"

The question hit Lexa like a punch to the gut. She looked at Clarke, seeing the pain written all over her face, and knew this was a conversation she couldn’t avoid. "Yeah," Lexa admitted, her voice steady but filled with regret. "I knew."

Clarke’s face crumpled for a moment, and she let out a shaky breath. She slowly lowered herself to sit on the steps in front of Lexa’s house, her gaze focused on the ground. "Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Lexa took a seat next to her, her body closer to Clarke’s than she’d been in a long time. She turned to face her, searching for the right words. "There were so many times that I almost did," Lexa began, her voice quiet and filled with pain. "But to drive you away from your family again? That just felt wrong. I wanted your love, Clarke. Just not like that. I wanted to earn it, to have you choose me, not push you into something you weren’t ready for."

Clarke’s gaze met Lexa’s, and for the first time in a long while, Lexa saw the truth in her eyes. The walls that Clarke had put up seemed to falter, and Lexa could see how much she was struggling. Clarke nodded slowly, unable to find the words to respond at first. Finally, after a long moment of silence, she spoke again. "I just don’t think I can afford to lose them right now," she confessed, her voice shaky.

Lexa’s heart swelled with empathy. She understood Clarke’s fear, the weight of everything that had happened. "So don’t," Lexa said softly, her words firm but tender. "You don’t have to lose them. You can still have your family and… us. We don’t have to be one or the other."

Clarke turned her head slightly to look at Lexa, her eyes full of emotion. "I don’t know how to balance it all," she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Everything feels like it’s falling apart."

"You’re not falling apart, Clarke," Lexa said, her hand brushing gently against Clarke’s. "You’re just trying to figure it out. And I’m here, okay? I’m here whenever you’re ready."

Clarke leaned back slightly, her breath catching as she let herself feel the comfort in Lexa’s words, in the quiet understanding that had always been between them. "Thank you," she said softly, looking over at Lexa with a sincerity that made Lexa’s heart race.

"I mean it," Lexa replied, squeezing her hand gently. "Whenever you need me, I’m here."

…

Days passed, and Clarke found herself sitting in law school again, but it didn’t feel the same. Everything felt distant, like she was standing outside of her own life, observing but not truly living it. The classes felt monotonous, the words of the professors blurring into the background as her mind wandered elsewhere. More often than not, she found herself doodling on her notebook instead of taking notes. It wasn’t that she didn’t care—it was just that she didn’t know how to care anymore.

A few days later, Clarke agreed to meet with Bellamy for lunch. She tried to push all her confusion aside, hoping a bit of normalcy might help.

"Thanks for lunch," Clarke said, offering him a small smile as they sat across from each other in the café.

Bellamy smiled back, but there was something in his eyes, something serious that made Clarke pause.

"Actually, there’s something I wanted to tell you," Bellamy said, his tone suddenly more tense than before.

Clarke raised an eyebrow, curious. "Okay…"

"Things are over with Rose," he said, his eyes fixed on her. "I ended it, Clarke."

Clarke blinked, caught off guard. "No... Why did you do that?" she asked, her heart tightening. "I thought you were getting engaged."

"We were," Bellamy said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "But that was before you."

Clarke frowned, her emotions in turmoil. "No. That was after me," she said firmly, her voice sharp.

"Okay, it was after you," Bellamy admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But it was before this you. Before the old you came back."

Clarke shook her head, the frustration in her chest bubbling to the surface. "Bellamy, I’m not the old me," she said, her tone clipped. "I’m just me." She let out a breath, her voice softening a little. "I’m just the me that’s still trying to figure everything out."

"I understand," Bellamy said, leaning forward. "But, whatever you are—old you or new you—I don’t care. I know you remember what we were like together. I know you do. This is our chance to get that back." His grin grew wider, more hopeful.

Clarke’s heart clenched, but she kept her composure. "What we had was wonderful," she said slowly, her voice quiet but firm. "Those were wonderful memories. But those were... those are my only memories." She paused, the words heavier than she intended. "Everything after you... is erased."

Bellamy’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, trying to make his case. "You don’t remember anything after us? How convenient." He shook his head, his frustration rising. "Are you sure you don’t remember breaking up with me the first time? Because it sure as hell sounds a lot like that."

Clarke’s face tightened, the anger she had been holding back finally surfacing. "I’m sorry, Bellamy," she said, her voice cold. "But I don’t want this. I don’t want us. I need to figure out who I am without you."

Bellamy stared at her, disbelief and frustration mixing in his expression. "Did you hit your head?" he scoffed, leaning in closer, his tone turning more forceful. "Because I know you remember what we had. I know you want it back."

Before Clarke could react, he leaned in too fast, his lips aimed for hers. But Clarke jerked back, her instincts kicking in. "No," she spat, her voice trembling with fury. "Stop it."

Bellamy’s grin twisted into something darker, more demanding. "Come on, I know you like it," he said, his voice low as he moved toward her, attempting to press her back against the wall.

Clarke’s heart pounded in her chest, fear mingling with her anger. "Let me go," she snarled, her body tense, ready to fight him off.

But Bellamy shook his head, refusing to listen. "No," he said stubbornly, trying to push her against the wall harder.

That was the breaking point.

In an instant, Clarke’s rage overwhelmed her. With all her strength, she tore herself out of his grip and slammed her fist into his face. The force of the punch made him stumble backward, falling to the ground with a loud thud.

Clarke didn’t wait for him to recover. She turned on her heel and ran—ran away from the mess Bellamy had tried to drag her back into, away from everything that had once been her life but no longer fit. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, her breath ragged, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. But for the first time in a long time, she felt free.

Chapter Text

Clarke stepped out of her school building and spotted Jake sitting on a bench, waiting for her. She had been trying to avoid him as much as possible, but deep down, she knew he wanted to make amends—or at least talk some sense into her.

“Hey,” Jake said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “I was looking everywhere for you. I got worried when you weren’t outside the library.”

Clarke glared at him, her expression icy, and scoffed instead of replying.

“So...” Jake began, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “How’s that intellectual property class going?” he asked, fumbling for something to say.

Clarke mumbled, “Uh, actually... I wanted to talk to you about that.” She paused, taking a steadying breath. “I’ve decided to leave law school.”

Jake’s face darkened with anger, though he held his tongue.

“I’m planning to get an apartment in the city,” Clarke continued.

Jake scoffed bitterly. “It’s happening all over again, isn’t it? Damn it, Clarke!” he shouted, his frustration boiling over. Then his voice softened with a hint of guilt. “I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“This isn’t about you or anything you’ve done, Dad,” Clarke shot back firmly. “This is about me—who I want to be. Who I am.”

…

Clarke stepped out of the school building, her heart heavy from the conversation with Jake. As she glanced toward the distance, she froze. There, standing by a sleek car, was Lexa. Her posture was calm yet commanding, but her soft smile gave her away. Lexa raised a hand, motioning for Clarke to come over.

Clarke hesitated, looking back at her father. For a moment, his expression was unreadable—hurt, regret, and longing all blended together.

“I gotta go,” Clarke said, forcing a small, bittersweet smile.

“Wait,” Jake pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. “Just tell me what to say, Clarke. Tell me what I can do so I don’t lose you again.”

She stopped, turning back for a brief second. “Nothing. You won’t lose me,” she said gently. “But I have to go now. Lexa’s waiting for me.” Without waiting for a response, she walked away, leaving Jake standing alone with his unspoken words.

As Clarke approached the car, Lexa stepped out, her presence as magnetic as ever. Clarke’s heart skipped a beat. Lexa’s gaze, filled with the kind of love that could move mountains, locked onto hers.

“Thank you for coming,” Clarke said softly, her lips curving into a smile she hadn’t realized she was holding back.

Lexa’s smile was understated but warm. “Always,” she replied with quiet certainty.

“So,” Lexa began after a moment, tilting her head slightly. “What did you want to talk about?”

Clarke hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. Finally, she took a steadying breath. “I’m moving away,” she admitted. “And I wanted you to know.”

Lexa’s expression faltered, her smile dimming as concern flickered across her face. “I’m happy for you,” she said, her tone genuine yet tinged with sorrow.

Their eyes met, an entire world of unspoken emotions passing between them. Clarke studied Lexa’s piercing green eyes, remembering all the times those eyes had steadied her in chaos.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke began, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I have to do this. I need to figure out who I am, and I can’t do that here.” She paused, her voice trembling. “I just want you to know something before I go.”

Lexa’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile as she masked her pain. “What’s that?” she asked softly.

“You were always there for me,” Clarke said, her voice breaking slightly. “And I don’t know how to thank you for that. For everything.”

Lexa looked away, her composure faltering as she tried to keep the tears from surfacing. She nodded, her voice thick with restrained emotion. “You don’t have to thank me, Clarke. I just want you to be happy.”

Clarke stepped closer, her resolve crumbling as the tears she had been holding back finally fell. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She gently cradled Lexa’s face in her hands and leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender, fleeting kiss. Lexa kissed her back, their shared heartbreak palpable in those few seconds.

When Clarke pulled away, she lingered for a moment, memorizing Lexa’s face, before she turned and began walking away. Halfway down the street, she turned back one last time, her chest tightening at the sight of Lexa standing there, watching her with a shattered expression. It felt like the end of a chapter they’d both hoped would never come, but Clarke knew it was necessary.

With tears streaming down her face, she hurried away into the distance, leaving Lexa behind to pick up the pieces of a love that had meant everything but couldn’t withstand the tides of self-discovery.

…

Lexa stood frozen, her body rooted to the ground as she watched Clarke walk away—again. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and her jaw tightened as she fought to maintain her composure. But the further Clarke got, the harder it became. Every step felt like a dagger twisting in her chest.

She wanted to call out, to stop her, to say something—anything—but her voice betrayed her. Instead, she stayed silent, her heart shattering with every second that passed.

Finally, when Clarke disappeared from view, Lexa’s resolve crumbled. She turned sharply and rushed to her car, her steps hurried, almost frantic. The moment she slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door, the floodgates opened. Tears spilled down her cheeks as sobs wracked her body, raw and uncontainable.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if it could anchor her through the storm of emotions. Memories of Clarke flashed through her mind—the laughter, the arguments, the moments of pure, unfiltered love. It all felt so close, yet so irretrievably distant now.

“This was supposed to be different,” Lexa whispered to herself, her voice breaking under the weight of her grief. Her fingers brushed against the spot on her cheek where Clarke had kissed her, the warmth still lingering even as her heart ached.

For a long moment, she sat there, staring out the windshield at nothing in particular, her mind swirling with what-ifs and unspoken words. Eventually, Lexa leaned back, closing her eyes and letting the tears flow freely. She knew Clarke was doing what she had to for herself, but that didn’t make letting go any easier.

The love of her life had walked away—again—and all Lexa could do was sit there, shattered but still loving her with every broken piece of her heart.

…

One Year Later...

It was a crisp winter day, the air sharp with the promise of snow, as Lexa walked through the bustling streets of the city. She was heading to her favorite café, Café Memonic , a cozy spot where she and Clarke used to spend countless afternoons together—before everything changed.

The café had become a bittersweet refuge for Lexa over the past year. Sometimes she came here with friends who had stood by her side during her hardest days, helping her navigate life without Clarke. It hadn’t been easy, but she had managed to rebuild, piece by piece.

As she approached the café, her heart sank at the sight of the “Closed: Snow Day” sign scrawled on the menu board by the door. She sighed and turned to head back home, tucking her scarf tighter against the cold. But then she stopped dead in her tracks.

Someone was walking toward her—no, not someone. Clarke.

Lexa’s breath caught in her throat, her feet refusing to move as she stared. Clarke, looking almost the same as she had a year ago, with her radiant smile and a soft beanie perched on her head. It suited her perfectly.

“Clarke?” Lexa murmured, barely audible. Her voice cracked as if saying the name might shatter the fragile reality before her.

Clarke stopped just a few steps away, her smile warming the icy air around them. “Hi,” she said softly, her voice familiar yet somehow different—more grounded, more assured.

“I hope you didn’t travel all the way from Boston just for hot chocolate,” Lexa said, her voice betraying her disbelief as she tried to process what was happening.

Clarke let out a small laugh, the sound easing Lexa’s tension. “No, I didn’t,” she replied. “I moved back yesterday.”

Lexa blinked, her brain trying to catch up. “You... moved back?” she repeated, the words slow and tentative.

Clarke nodded, her smile widening. “Yeah. I’m back at the Art Institute,” she said, her voice filled with excitement.

“What? Are you serious?” Lexa asked, her surprise giving way to a flicker of happiness. “That’s... that’s amazing, Clarke.”

Clarke’s smile softened. “Thank you,” she said, her voice carrying a sincerity that made Lexa’s chest tighten.

Lexa frowned slightly, confused. “I didn’t do anything,” she said, her tone hesitant.

Clarke shook her head gently, her eyes searching Lexa’s. “You did everything,” she said. “You accepted me for who I am, not for who you wanted me to be. That gave me the strength to figure out what I really wanted.”

Lexa’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she quickly looked away, trying to compose herself. “I just wanted you to be happy,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Clarke stepped closer, her heart aching as she saw Lexa fighting her emotions. Without hesitation, she reached out and pulled Lexa into a tight embrace. Lexa froze for a moment before her arms instinctively wrapped around Clarke, holding her as though letting go might break her all over again.

In that moment, Lexa let her tears fall freely. She realized how much she had missed this—missed Clarke.

“It’s okay,” Clarke whispered against her ear, her voice steady and comforting. She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Lexa’s tear-filled gaze.

For a second, Clarke’s eyes scanned Lexa’s face, drinking in every detail she had missed over the past year. 

Reality tugged at Lexa, and she reluctantly pulled away, her brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice a mix of wonder and uncertainty. “Why now? Why come back?”

Clarke smiled softly, her hands still resting lightly on Lexa’s arms. “Because I needed to find myself, and I did. But no matter where I went, or what I learned, one thing never changed.”

“What’s that?” Lexa asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clarke’s smile deepened, her eyes glistening with emotion. “You. You’re my home, Lexa.”

Lexa's confusion deepened as she looked at Clarke, trying to make sense of her words. “You’re my home.” The phrase echoed in her mind, but it didn’t connect. Not the way it should have.

“Clarke, I don’t understand,” Lexa said, stepping back slightly, her voice wavering. “How can I be your home when... when you don’t even remember me?”

Clarke’s face fell, her earlier confidence faltering. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, searching for the right words. Lexa shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh.

“You disappeared, Clarke,” Lexa said, her voice breaking. “You left, and then after the accident, it was like I didn’t even exist to you anymore.”

Clarke winced, guilt flashing across her face. “Lexa, it wasn’t like that—”

Lexa held up a hand to stop her, pain clear in her eyes. “Don’t. Don’t say it wasn’t like that. You didn’t know me. You looked at me like I was a stranger. And now, after all this time, you show up and tell me I’m your home? What am I supposed to do with that?”

Clarke stepped closer, desperation creeping into her voice. “Lexa, I know this doesn’t make sense, but—”

“No,” Lexa interrupted, her voice hardening. “It doesn’t.” She shook her head again, turning away. “I can’t do this, Clarke. I can’t keep hoping for something that isn’t there.”

Lexa started to walk away, her heart heavy with every step. But just as she was about to cross the street, she heard Clarke’s voice call out, sharp and urgent.

“Lexa, wait!”

Lexa froze but didn’t turn around. She couldn’t—her walls were barely holding as it was.

Clarke ran after her, her boots crunching in the snow as she caught up. She reached out and grabbed Lexa’s arm, spinning her around. Before Lexa could protest, Clarke’s lips were on hers.

The kiss was sudden, desperate, and filled with emotions Lexa didn’t understand. She didn’t respond at first, too stunned to process what was happening. When Clarke finally pulled back, Lexa stared at her, wide-eyed and breathless.

“What... what are you doing?” Lexa whispered, her voice a mixture of confusion and longing.

Clarke looked at her, her own eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I remember, Lexa,” she said softly.

Lexa blinked, her breath hitching. “What?”

“I remember,” Clarke repeated, her voice trembling. “I remember everything. Us. The café. The way you’d always roll your eyes at my bad jokes but secretly laugh anyway. The way you made me feel like I could do anything. I remember it all.”

Lexa stepped back, her mind reeling. “How... how is that possible? You said you didn’t—”

“I didn’t,” Clarke admitted, her voice breaking. “Not for the longest time. After the accident, it was like... like there was this wall in my mind, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get through it.”

Clarke took a shaky breath, stepping closer again. “But then I saw you today. And suddenly, it was like everything came flooding back. All at once.” She looked up at Lexa, her eyes pleading. “I didn’t know how much I’d lost until I saw you standing there. And I don’t want to lose you again.”

Lexa stared at Clarke, her heart warring with her mind. The pain of the past year collided with the hope shining in Clarke’s eyes.

“You remember...” Lexa said quietly, almost to herself.

“I do,” Clarke said, her voice steady now. “And I know I don’t deserve it, but if you’ll let me... I want to make it right. I want to start over—with you.”

Lexa hesitated, her emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. She wanted to believe Clarke, to trust this moment, but the fear of being hurt again loomed large.

After what felt like an eternity, Lexa finally spoke, her voice soft but resolute. “If you’re lying to me, Clarke... if this is some kind of mistake...”

“It’s not,” Clarke interrupted, her voice firm. “I swear to you, Lexa. It’s not.”

Lexa searched her face, looking for any trace of doubt, but all she saw was honesty. Slowly, hesitantly, she nodded.

“Okay,” Lexa whispered.

A tentative smile broke across Clarke’s face, and she reached for Lexa’s hand. This time, Lexa didn’t pull away. Instead, she let Clarke’s warmth seep into her frozen heart, daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new.

Chapter Text

Clarke and Lexa had been together ever since that fateful night they ran into each other. It took time to rediscover who they were, as both of them had changed so much over the years. But through it all, one thing remained unchanged: their love for each other. Seven years had passed.

‘’Clarke, are you coming?’’ Lexa called from the kitchen. Clarke always took longer than planned when it was time to pick up Sara. It had become a familiar routine—Lexa calling Clarke’s name over and over again.

‘’I’m almost done!’’ Clarke shouted from upstairs.

Lexa chuckled, the sound of her wife’s voice always bringing a smile to her face. Clarke made every day brighter for her. They’d faced their challenges, but no matter what, nothing could ever tear them apart now.

Lost in her thoughts, Lexa was suddenly startled when Clarke appeared behind her.

‘’Boo,’’ Clarke teased, grinning.

‘’You scared me,’’ Lexa replied, half-laughing, half-scolding. She turned around to face Clarke, pulling her in close for a quick kiss.

Clarke kissed her back but pulled away when she noticed the time. ‘’Shit,’’ she muttered.

‘’Language, Missis Woods,’’ Lexa teased.

Clarke laughed. ‘’Sorry, wifey,’’ she winked at Lexa.

‘’You’re forgiven,’’ Lexa replied playfully, motioning for them both to leave.

They climbed into the car and drove to pick up Sara, arriving at her school about thirty minutes later. Lexa parked near the entrance.

‘’Alright, let’s go,’’ Clarke said after checking the time.

‘’Yes,’’ Lexa smiled, getting out of the car.

Clarke followed her, joining her as Lexa took her hand, and they walked toward the school gate.

As they waited for Sara, Lexa turned to Clarke, her voice soft. ‘’I’m so glad you remembered everything, all those years ago.’’

Clarke smiled and turned to face her wife. ‘’Me too,’’ she said before leaning in for a quick kiss. ‘’You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I just didn’t realize it back then.’’

‘’You were a pain in the ass,’’ Lexa said, grinning with no hint of apology.

‘’I really was,’’ Clarke laughed, nudging Lexa. ‘’But you still loved me.’’

‘’Always,’’ Lexa replied proudly. ‘’You’re my everything, Clarke.’’

Just then, they were interrupted by the sound of Sara’s voice.

‘’MOMMIES!’’ she shouted as she ran toward them.

Clarke and Lexa turned around and smiled, arms opening as their daughter reached them.

‘’Sara, honey,’’ they both said in unison, pulling her into a warm hug.

‘’You’re a happy little one,’’ Clarke said with a smile.

Sara nodded enthusiastically. ‘’Yes!’’ she exclaimed.

‘’How come?’’ Lexa asked, grinning.

Sara turned around and pointed excitedly at a dog on the other side of the gate. ‘’DOG!’’ she mumbled, her eyes wide with wonder.

Lexa and Clarke exchanged smiles. ‘’Did you pet her?’’ Lexa asked.

Sara nodded vigorously. ‘’Yes! She was so soft, mommy,’’ she said, a mischievous smirk on her face.

‘’Can we have one too?’’ Sara asked eagerly.

‘’We don’t have the time for a dog,’’ Clarke said with a sigh.

‘’Ehm, Clarke, I don’t care. Let’s get a dog,’’ Lexa said with a grin, turning to Sara. ‘’Do you have a name picked out?’’ she asked.

Sara nodded excitedly. ‘’FISH!’’ she said, her face lighting up with a huge smile.

…

After the conversation about getting a dog, Clarke gave Lexa a skeptical look. "Lexa, we're not exactly ready for a puppy... We’re busy enough with Sara."

Lexa smiled softly, her eyes twinkling. "Maybe it’s time we make room for something new. Something that will bring us even more joy."

Clarke sighed, pretending to think it over. "I suppose one little puppy wouldn't hurt..."

Sara's eyes lit up, clearly overjoyed by the idea. "YES!" she squealed, jumping up and down, tugging on their hands. "We can go NOW, right?"

Clarke chuckled at her daughter’s excitement. "Alright, alright, we'll go. But only if you promise to help take care of it!"

Sara nodded vigorously. "I will, I will! I'll feed it and play with it, and I’ll give it all the cuddles!"

With that, the family piled into the car, heading straight to a nearby shelter. It didn’t take long for them to find the perfect puppy. A small, golden retriever with big brown eyes and soft fur, looking up at them with curiosity and innocence.

Clarke crouched down to meet the puppy’s gaze, her heart melting as it gently licked her hand. "She’s perfect," Clarke said, smiling at Lexa.

Lexa stood beside her, watching Sara excitedly pet the puppy. "I think you’re right. She’s exactly what we need."

Clarke turned to her wife, her eyes soft and filled with love. "You know, we’ve come a long way. From not remembering each other, to building a life together. And now we’re adding a new member to the family."

Lexa nodded, squeezing Clarke’s hand. "We’re creating a home full of love, Clarke. And that’s all that matters."

Sara ran over to them, holding the puppy close to her chest. "Mom, look! She loves me already!"

Clarke and Lexa exchanged a glance, their hearts full as they watched their daughter so happy, the puppy wagging its tail in her arms.

"I think she’s found her forever family," Lexa said quietly.

Clarke smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude. "Yeah, she has."

The family walked out of the shelter, their new puppy in tow. Together, they headed home, ready to begin this new chapter with their beloved new addition. With love, laughter, and now a puppy to care for, Clarke and Lexa knew that no matter what challenges life would bring, they were always ready to face them—together.