You hear beeping sounds in your right ear. There's numbness in your right arm and left leg. It hurts to breathe. You open your eyes and are blinded by the light in the room you're in. You blink a few times and you start to adjust. This room is unfamiliar to you. You scope out your surroundings. You're lying in a bed, you're hooked up to an IV machine, there's a table at the end of your bed with various odds and ends on it, and you're strapped down to the bed. What the fuck, you think. You can't remember anything that's happened in the last few days, except one thing.

She left you. Without remorse. She took her army and goddamn left. You can feel your hate flood through your veins and it feels good. At least you can feel something. Then, you hear someone running toward your room. The footfalls grow louder and louder as they draw near. You think that someone has come to finish the job. Let them kill me, you think. Let me be free.

She rushes through the doors, expression lighting up when she sees you. "Clarke," she said breathlessly. You can't meet her eyes. You're worried your anger and rage will make you hurt yourself, or worse, hurt her. But you want to hurt her. You want to tear her to pieces. You want to make her hurt as much as she hurt you. There's only one thing holding you back: your heart. Well, your heart and the leather straps holding you down.

However, you tug at them with all the strength you have left in you. You bring your gaze upon her, disgusted in how comforted she is to see you alive. "Get out," you growl as menacingly as you can. Luckily, your tone of voice strikes a nerve in her, she stops dead in her tracks and her expression faltering from relieved into dejected.

She stays frozen in place until she looks away from your eyes piercing into her skull. Then, she walks to the table in front of you, looking at the various objects on it. The battle she left you at. The battle she left you and your people to die in.

You can't get a good look at her face, but you see shimmering tracks rolling down her tanned cheeks. She picks up a smashed bullet that either came out of your arm, foot, knee, or chest. You really can't remember how you got shot all those times, still managed to take Mount Weather, and save your people in the process.

"They pumped you with all of this led and you're still kicking," her voice cracks. She jokes and her voice cracks like nothing you've ever heard from the Commander of the Grounders. You're ripped from your thoughts when another person comes running through the door. "How's our little hero doing?" Octavia asks, in a sing-song tone.

Her eyes are cheery and full of hope, that is, until she sees Lexa. She stops and looks between you and her. You know she's trying to decide whether to actually kick out her own leader or leave you alone with her. "Octavia, come in. I was just leaving," Lexa mumbles. She places the bullet back where it was, turns on her heel and walks toward the door.

Opening the door, she glances back at you, and you can see the conflict in her eyes. She, by all means, does not want to leave you, but she knows she has to. She knows you have to heal on your own time. Then, she walks out of the door. She's gone. Again.

"Hey," says a voice in the middle of the room, and it makes you jump. You forget that Octavia is still in the room. "Hey, calm down there, jumpy. Just wanna give you some company." She sits down on the chair next to your bed. You can't say anything. You want to talk to Octavia, because she's your friend and she fought for and with you. But right now, you have nothing to say to her. Except-

"Thank you." Your voice sounds so foreign, so cracked, so broken. Octavia's lip twitches into a smile and she puts her hand on yours. "I'd do anything for you, Wanheda." What the hell did she just call you? Apparently, that question is painted on your face because she openly laughs. "It means Commander of Death, Clarke. That's what everyone's calling you."

She shakes her head and sighs. "You're a legend in the Grounders' eyes. But our people…to me…you're a hero. Clarke, you're a goddamn hero." You try to say something but Octavia continues. "You saved my life. You probably don't remember because of the blow to the head you got." Now that she mentions it, you do feel a throbbing pain on the top of your head, probably caused by the butt of a gun.

"But Clarke," she continues, "you need to forgive her." You immediately feel your anger spark again. "Hey, calm down," she says. "You have to hear me out, Clarke, or else you'll never have peace." That catches your attention. You'll never have peace. You laugh to yourself. I'll never have peace, regardless.

"-not worth it," you hear her say. You missed the first part of her speech because of your musings inside your head. You look at her and she is absolutely serious, but her eyes swim with grief. "I know I said I would never forgive you for what happened at Ton DC. I still haven't. But you still don't deserve any of this shit. You're too good to be burdened with this, Clarke."

A tear escapes her eye and she hastily wipes it away. "You mean a hell of a lot to me. I don't want to see you get hurt anymore, do you understand?" The way she says this makes you want to believe, makes you want to trust her. But right now, you can't trust anyone. Not even her.

"Octavia," you croak. She snaps her head up to look at you with hopeful eyes. "I'll kill her." Her face falls. "I'll kill her before that happens."


hi fam! so this was a little thing that popped into my head and i had to write about it. (also wrote this at one in the am so i apologize for any mistakes) i'll probably keep this going for a few chapters but i'm not sure how long it'll be. thanks for reading/commenting/favoriting/following/loving. you guys are so great! much love to ya! have a wonderful week! 3

- juju :)