I own nothing but my 2 cats... but I think they own me more... :)
This is my very first fan fiction ever... please be kind. I have the whole story planned out. Let me know if I should keep going.
When we owe nothing more to our people
Tea
Chapter One
Lexa opened the door to the sound of a gunshot. She felt something sharp against her middle. She looked to Clarke, then looked down seeing the black blood escaping from her stomach. "No!" Clarke cried. "Heda!" Titus called. Lexa collapsed into Clarke's arms. "Help me get her to the bed!" Clarke cried then watched as Titus carried Lexa.
Clarke pushed on the bleeding trying to control it. Titus handed her bandages. He took a kit from inside his robes and opened it. Clarke looked at it and asked "what is that." Titus didn't reply. Clarke saw tweezers and a small knife. "Perfect!" she thought! She tore Lexa's sweater, grabbed the tools from Titus' kit and grabbed the wine from beside the bed. She poured the wine all over the tools with a quick "this will have to do!" under her breath. She looked to Lexa, "this is going to hurt," Lexa nodded "a lot! But I won't loose you!" Clarke cut the opening of the gunshot wound a bit bigger. She reached in with the tweezers and found the bullet and pulled it out. "Bring me a candle!" When neither Titus, nor John Murphy moved, "NOW!" Clarke yelled. Titus brought a candle up to just beside the wound. Clarke looked inside, then up at Lexa's face. Lexa had passed out. Clarke looked back inside the wound. There! She held the knife into the flame of the candle long enough for it to get hot. She put the tip of the knife against the bleeding artery. She wiped away the blood and looked in the wound again. No more leaking blood! "Get me something to sew up this wound!" Titus went to the other side of the room and found catgut and more bandages in the tub room. Clarke worked on sewing up the wound. As she finished and started to bandage up Lexa's stomach area, she heard another gunshot. She dropped herself over Lexa to protect her. When she looked around, John was standing with the gun in his hand, and Titus was lying dead on the floor. "What have you done?!" Clarke stammered.