Octavia worries, about Raven, about her wellbeing, about them. It's not like Raven can't take care of herself, the opposite, really. Her girlfriend refused to believe that anything could hinder her, even when it did. It's one of the reasons Octavia loved her. But lately, Raven refused to believe that she wasn't okay. "I'm fine," was as much as she was getting out of her and Octavia had been receding back into herself because she had to be fine, too.
Maybe that's how she finds herself in an auto shop garage at midnight in search of her girlfriend who she hadn't seen since 7 am that morning. It probably why she couldn't sleep anymore, either.
When she slips into the garage she finds a light illuminated over one of Raven's "babies," a red car that Raven's been trying to fix up for the past couple of weeks. Octavia frowns when she hears the familiar sound of tinkering and rounds to the front of the car to find two legs jut out from underneath the car, one of them clad in her brace.
"You can't keep pushing yourself so hard, Raven. You aren't invisible," Octavia whispers. It comes from nowhere but everywhere all at once. She can't describe it. She's tired.
She figures that Raven is too because she pushes herself. She's constantly pushing herself. She insists that she can still go on morning runs and disappears for hours at a time, usually before Octavia wakes up. The pain of waking up without her girlfriend reminds her of when she was dating Atom. He broke up with her a week after his disappearances started. (Octavia doesn't think that Raven's going to break up with her but she doesn't know, anymore. Raven isn't around to tell her.)
Sometimes, Raven insists that she doesn't need her brace on her good days. Octavia had told her that her good days were good, because they were, but that good didn't mean she was fixed.
(She never would be.)
Raven slept at Clarke's that night. Octavia cried.
Octavia tries to help and Raven pushes her away. Octavia had been trying to help a lot, lately. Raven was gone just as much. Worry didn't even begin to describe what Octavia was feeling.
Raven slides out from underneath the car she was working on, narrowing her eyes at Octavia threateningly. She wonders if Raven's thought about it too- ending it. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I love you," Octavia starts. She worries her lip. They've had this same conversation four time now and so far, it always ends the same way. "Please, Raven. You can't keep doing this to yourself."
Octavia feels like she's about to cry which is stupid considering she isn't the one with a messed up leg. Her leg worked fine. She was fine.
"Doing what?" Raven asks, her voice still low. Octavia's eyes slip shut as she exhales.
"I just-" her mouth snaps shut. Octavia doesn't trust her words not to waver. She opens her eyes again and connects with the deep brown that are looking at her softer, now. A laugh bubbles in her throat.
"What?"
"It's midnight and I'm here trying to get you to leave this stupid fucking garage because I miss you. I just-"
The last of her voice tappers off as a sob rips from her throat. She hates herself for crying so easily. It wasn't like Raven was gone. She was right here, smudged with grease, face illuminated by the moonlight that spills in from the garage entrance and the work light that did little to light up the garage. But Octavia hates falling asleep without her, hates waking up to find that she's gone even more. She just wants Raven to be okay because Octavia doesn't think that's they're okay. She isn't okay.
"Octavia," Raven's up from the car that she's working on, rushing to her side before Octavia can begin to wipe the tears from her face. Her face is surprised, her voice alarmed. Maybe Raven didn't know. Maybe they would be okay.
"I'm fine," she croaks. It would probably be more believable if she didn't bury her face into Raven's neck the second she reaches her.
"I'm sorry," Raven whispers, stroking her hair. Raven pulls her tight and presses a kiss to her temple and a new wave of tears flood Octavia because god, when was the last time Raven held her?
"I just- I just miss you," Octavia whispers into her neck. "I need you." Raven holds her tighter. She feels guilty. She wasn't the broken one. She wasn't the one who had things wrong with her. She tries pulling away, her emotions suddenly to much with that realization. "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be here for you."
"Stop," Raven commands so sharply Octavia gasps. Her grip on Octavia doesn't falter, her fingers keep combing through her hair. Raven holds her close against her body and gently shushes her hiccuping sobs. Octavia can't help but think that this is the first time she's felt at home in weeks. "I shouldn't be so wrapped up in myself that I can't see you need me, too."
"Raven," Octavia sputters, weeks of holding everything in crashing down on her in an instant.
"I know, baby. I'm so sorry."
Raven holds her for a while more until Octavia's sobs subside into cries and eventually into sniffles. Somewhere in her mess of tears Raven guided them to the couch where Raven spent her breaks during her shifts at the shop. Octavia curls into Raven, they curl into each other, on the shitty couch that smells like motor oil.
That's how Sinclair finds them in the morning, passed out on the couch, tangled against each other. He sighs a breath of relief because Raven had been a pain in the ass lately with her sad eyes and moping around while she picked up extra shifts.
Octavia made Raven preform better as a mechanic. More importantly, she made her happier, not that Sinclair cares. He shuts the door to the break room and closes the blinds. He smiles at them before he prepares to open shop.
He lets them sleep.