A.N: I haven't written fanfiction in forever, but I couldn't help but write this after seeing this weeks episode...this is basically my take on what would happen when Lincoln wakes up in heaven...do they even believe in heaven idk but you get the point.
"In...linc...Lincoln!'
Lincoln's eyes snap open and he sits up in a rush.
He quickly looks around, noting the different flowers surrounding him, the rock he tried to sit on one time and regret because he did not realize how hot rocks get when they've been in the sun for so long. He recognizes this place; he used to come up to this section of the forest when he was younger; he'd plop himself down on the ground (the healers did chuckle when he was brought to them with a sun burnt back from accidentally napping on that damn rock), take out his little sketchbook and start sketching the different wild flowers he'd find...technically during those times he was supposed to be learning which plants were poisonous and which ones were used to make medicine from (Indra's orders), but he enjoyed just having some time to himself.
Indra wasn't very happy when she found him sketching (hell, he was actually quite terrified of her at the time; she was the closest thing to a mother that he had), but her eyes did soften when she skimmed through his sketchbook. After promising to draw her a pretty landscape, Indra dropped his sketchbook by his feet and walked back to Polis, muttering about him bringing back some plants when he's done.
Lincoln had assumed that maybe Indra threw out his drawing at some point, maybe lost it like he tended to when it came to his small sketchbooks from when he was younger. But in reality, she kept it folded up and tucked away amongst her very few personal belongings. The paper had yellowed during the years and was one mishandling away from tearing into two; the graphite long been smudged but still legible enough to make out the meticulous attention to detail within the petals that were shining in the lowering light of the late sun.
"What is this place to you?" Lexa softly questions as she takes a seat next to Lincoln.
Lincoln blinks, Lexa's presence taking a bit longer than it probably should to register.
"Heda?" Lincoln questions.
Lexa gives a curt nod. "Hello, Lincoln."
Lincoln frowns and looks at the meadow once more.
"Am I dead?"
Lexa quirks a brow at him "Did my presence give it away?"
Sarcasm. Well, that's a side of Lexa he never got to experience.
"Actually it was the meadow." Lincoln gruffly says. "I couldn't come back anymore because this area is close to where Mount Weather would release their toxins to ward off anyone...wasn't good for the flowers and it wasn't worth getting killed for."
Lexa hums in agreement.
Lincoln takes in a deep breath and slowly lets it out. The air here was fresh, the sunlight made him feel warm and despite feeling like he should be hurting—aching really, he felt fine...physically.
"Octavia." Lincoln murmurs.
Lexa picks at a few dandelions, twirling the stems with her fingers.
"You died for her."
Lincoln scoffs. "I died for my people."
"Our people." Lexa lightly reprimands.
Lincoln doesn't bother to remind her that he was still technically banished. "Our people," Lincoln corrects.
"Did you not consider Octavia as our people?"
Lincoln turns to Lexa quickly, an argument close to passing his lips before he sees the same steely look Heda had perfected over the years.
"Of course I did." He mutters. "I never thought that you did."
"Did you love her?" Lexa softly asks.
His first thought to say is 'of course I did', but then he remembers who he's talking to.
"Love is weakness."
"It is not." Lexa slowly admits.
Lincoln frowns and gives Heda his full attention.
"Love is not weakness, Lincoln. Love is powerful. Love is good. Love for your people, love for your land, love for yourself, and…love with someone that knows all your faults and stays, there is no better feeling than that. I should know...I was lucky and experienced being loved, twice."
"So all that stuff you said to everyone about love being weakness...?"
"Please. Titus would have had my head if he could if I showed any form of emotion. Indra would have encouraged it."
Lincoln gives a small smile. "She would have."
A few quiet moments pass as Lincoln and Lexa watch the sun set, a peaceful breeze passing by.
"I miss her." Lincoln admits.
Lexa doesn't bother to ask Lincoln to clarify. Of course he missed Octavia. She still missed Clarke. While this place was a form of heaven, it was nothing to Lexa without Clark by her side. She assumes that's how Lincoln feels about Octavia.
"Anya give me this same talk you know. We were at the grounds where she used to train me, before I was Heda. When I came to, she threw a sword at me and refused to answer any of my questions until I managed to hit her weapon out of her hand and tackled her to the ground." Lexa smiles fondly at the thought of her former mentor. "She never was good with her feelings, but she did tell me that she was glad that I finally kissed Clarke. She was disappointed that she wasn't there to tease me about it though."
"I left her there crying." Lincoln sighs as he hangs his head.
"As did I." Lexa sighs.
"You and I aren't that much different apparently, Heda."
Lexa scoffs "I am far more superior, obviously." Lexa can't help it as a grin escapes her and she laughs. She laughs freely like she was never allowed to before and Lincoln grins and joins her as well.
The sky is dark and the stars are out when they decided to walk back to Polis. Lincoln likes that everything is...closer than its supposed to be. A five minute walk sure beats an hour long ride on a horse.
"I wish I could see her again." Lincoln murmurs as they pass a bush of berries. He recognizes one of them as being the type that Octavia ate when she tried to prove that he wouldn't let her die and would fess up to which vial contained the antidote.
Lexa continues onward. "You can see her."
Lincoln's head snaps up. "Heda?"
"You cannot talk to her, but you can see her."
"How?" Lincoln practically demands.
"If you wish to see her, open up your sketchbook."
Lincoln's hand goes straight towards the pocket where he keeps his sketchbook. He feels the familiar feeling of old worn leather under his fingertips.
"Do it in private." Lexa quietly says. "The first time is always the hardest."
Lincoln is back in the tent he used to sleep in before he was deemed as a traitor. He's sitting on his cot, his hands nervously toying with his sketchbook that is still closed shut.
He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and slowly opens his sketchbook.
He's not sure what he expects to see. The first page is a detailed drawing of Heda's tower, while the next page is of merchants at the market. Lincoln has no interest in any of his older drawings, but he does thumb his way to a worn down page...the first and last drawing he did of Octavia when he saw her exploring the forest. He never did have time to draw any more of her though, what with everything that happened after he was captured by her brother.
It isn't till he turns to the next page. A page that he remembers is supposed to be blank.
Though as he looks at the page, all he sees is Octavia angrily yelling with tears still on her face, her eyes darker than he's ever seen as Bellamy tries to calm her down as guns are pointed at her in case she tries anything.
He can't help the sob that escapes his throat at seeing her once again in such a pained state.