holy shit an update in a week - i have surprised myself. well, i've written it and it is here, so might as well. one of you asked me last time how long it takes me to update and i can honestly just say: i don't know. i never know. all i can say is that i'll update when i update.

now, read, ponder, and enjoy!

"I cannot believe you!"

Thankfully enough, Lexa had enough training in the military to remember the most important part of being intruded – remain calm and observe as many points of escape and attack within the first five seconds. She didn't jump; she didn't yelp; she showed no sign of being surprised at being intruded in the middle of the afternoon so suddenly.

Instead, she just recalled the most efficient way to unlock the window and the best method to get out the door with minimal injury. She eyed the best non-lethal weapons in the room and strategized how best to utilize these weapons. Her non-dominant hand sneaked under her desk to grip the gun she had hidden in a compartment when she had first returned.

The tension and wariness and general distrust dissolved once she took note of who exactly had decided to barge into her office just like that. Her fingers relaxed from around the gun. The tightness of her facial features loosened into a mildly annoyed expression. Her eyes tracked Anya from the door to the bookshelf – her sister who was entirely unaware of the fact that Lexa might have pulled a gun on her had she been a more paranoid individual.

Not that Lexa was ever going to tell them that. Any of that.

The younger sister watched the white knuckled grip she had on the pen, almost with an outsider perspective, curious and bemused. She allowed another moment for her brain to catch up – the peace, the lack of guns and bullets, the needlessness to look over her shoulder at every second of the day – and then she stood up, abandoning the pen and massaging her knuckles absentmindedly.

"Elaborate, please," she retorted as she made her way behind the bar. "Bourbon?"

"God no." Anya spun around to look at her with mildly disguised disgust. "How do you drink that stuff?"

"You get what you get in the army." It sounded so casual, like she didn't give a shit, which was exactly what Lexa was aiming for.

Once Anya got her red wine and Lexa had her bourbon, they got themselves settled at the table set. Lexa stared mournfully at her desk full of paperwork, knowing that there was no way that she would be able to finish it all up if her sister had her way. And Anya always had her way.

"I just came back from my trip and had breakfast with our loving parents. And did you know the first thing our dearest father told us?"

She should probably not feel so delighted about this, but there was a reason that she and her father were so close. They both shared the same sense of childish humor with the capability of dealing with the most serious issues in the blink of an eye. And she had always enjoyed his need to be smug about the most mundane of things.

They went out on a nighttime walk once, Gustus and Ryder trailing behind them, with a whole team of secret service posing as commoners to watch out for them. It was two nights before her dispatch, and she asked him why that was. And he simply told her that as the royalty, there were things that they simply couldn't enjoy like the common people, such as walking on the streets at night with his daughter, so he just wanted to find delight in anything he could, such as knowing something stupid about anyone in his family before anyone else in said family did.

"You told our father about a girl you met before you told your own sister and mother!" Anya accused, appearing completely offended. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry I'm his favorite."

"He's a man."

"Anya Woods, are you being sexist right now?" Lexa gasped in mock offense. "Our parents did not raise us to be –"

"Don't you start that with me," Anya growled, pointing a finger at her.

Lexa had to laugh. Before she could answer though, it was hard to miss Lincoln's gigantic form strolling into the room, carrying an amused look on his face. Nice to know he wasn't as offended as her sister was, but not so nice to know that she still had no privacy even after years of being away.

"Okay, how did I miss this breakfast?" she pointed out as her brother proceeded to treat himself with a glass of scotch from her bar. "And get your own drinks!"

"You already had breakfast before any one of us was up," Lincoln simply answered as he settled next to the eldest on the couch. "Mom's coming, by the way."

"Oh my g –"

"Alexandria Woods!"

Her mother's shriek was followed closely by her father's evil cackles as he trailed her footsteps.

"Get out!"

She stood up, placing her tumbler on the coffee table and pointing at the door, as she glared at her family who just decided that barging into her office was just okay now. Her father's cackles stopped halfway and her mother startled back a step at her volume; they were all gaping at the youngest Woods, unused to her raising her voice even a fraction, let alone yell.

She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten in her head while also reciting the range of weapons that were used by all armed forces in Polis alphabetically – a calming method taught by a senior sergeant when she was deployed in Iran. She would always be grateful for him for teaching her this, because there was no way she would have been able to soldier through all the crowds and the noises without placing the barrel of a gun in her mouth.

When she opened her eyes, they were all still gaping at her, though no longer as bemused. Alternatively, all she could discern on their faces were concern and bewilderment, which weren't much better.

Shit.

Lexa took a few deep breaths and avoided their eyes while her fingers carded through her hair, only to remember that she had it tied into a ponytail. She shook her hands by her side and when that didn't stop the shaking, she just shoved them into her pockets. She mustered a reassuring smile at them.

"Sorry, I just…" Drifting off, she realized she didn't know how to explain the outburst. "I didn't mean to do that."

"Honey –" Queen Storme hesitated and then approached her daughter until she had Lexa's face in her hands "– are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay, Mom." Despite that, Lexa still reached up to hold onto her mother's wrists – and Lexa was never a tactile person.

It was an indicative enough of a movement that Storme looked over her shoulder to share a look with her husband. Lexa pretended she didn't see that; pretended that her sister didn't seem all too perturbed at her outburst; pretended that her brother wasn't staring at her like she was a total stranger.

She had been pretending for six months to spare her family the details; she could pretend more. God willing, she'd pretend for the rest of her life if it meant that the people close to her wouldn't realize the gravity of her experience when she was overseas.

One swift movement extracted her from her mother's gentle grip and put suitable distance between herself and her family. She couldn't help but cast a chaste glance at her desk, where the gun was still secured. She offered them another reassuring smile, hoping earnestly that they would let it go.

"I'm really sorry," she said. "I was just working and it was getting a little too noisy and I snapped. I'm sorry."

"Lexa –"

"This girl is still…new." Lexa fought a shudder at the thought of Clarke. God, there was no better word to describe her than 'new'. "I don't really know her quite well yet, but I like her." She didn't have to hide the smile, or act like the smile was anything other than one of enjoyment.

Hopefully, this tactic would work on the rest of them just as it did with her father. Distract them for a little longer while she used the extra time to pull herself together. If anything, this smile should tell them she was working her way towards it. What exactly, she wasn't sure yet, but something better than this.

"I'd really appreciate it if you just let me see where it goes before bombarding me with questions I can't answer."

"Of course, honey," the matriarch of the house said before any of them could butt in, who added on with a stern stare at her children and her husband. "Go with your own pace." Storme's fidgeting fingers and twitching cheek were indicative of her desire to say more, maybe ask more. But thankfully, she just took a deep breath and smiled at her daughter. "We'll just leave you to it."

Lexa nodded, clenching her hands into fists in her pockets. Watching the door close behind Lincoln almost felt like that lightness whenever they defused an accidental IED planted by an insurgent in the tracks – Lexa hated it.

After making sure that the bill of her cap was tugged low enough to conceal her face, Lexa entered the McDonald's three blocks away from the palace and heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that there was barely anyone in the establishment. Plus, the ability to place an order on the electronic stations made it easier for her to hide herself and not risk exposure.

"They should make McDonald's breakfast an all-day thing," she remarked glumly into the phone pinned between her head and her shoulder.

"It's a thing in Australia," Clarke replied with a laugh.

"Well, we're not in Australia."

But of course, the universe had to play with her a little bit and the boy recognized her despite the cap when he handed over her order. And for the next few seconds, Lexa watched as he choked on his own saliva and made comical noises that she thought could only be heard in cartoons.

Clarke hummed and Lexa ignored the flutter in her stomach at the sound distorted over the phone. "I don't know. I think I'd take Polis over Australia, even if we don't have all-day McDonald's breakfast."

Lexa allowed him a few seconds to gather himself before she smiled at him and pressed a finger to her lips. To maximize effects, she added on a wink for good measure.

Because even when she was a big damn lesbian and there was no way she'd be interested in him, she had also learned that a lot of people didn't much care for it. They just saw her looks and swoon for her, regardless of her sexuality, and she wasn't ashamed to admit that she had used it to her advantage many times in the past – and definitely many times in the future.

"Well, you're too kind," Lexa said cheekily, biting her lip unintentionally.

"You're not the government."

As expected, he just swallowed and nodded eagerly with a sheepish smile. She figured he deserved something for not automatically propelling himself into five minutes of Twitter fame by announcing her presence in his McDonald's, so she easily plucked the pen from his shirt pocket over the counter and signed her name on a tissue paper.

She stuck her tongue out at the disapproving stare Gustus was sending her as they walked out of the establishment with her order in hand. She glanced up at the sky and allowed an inadvertent smile to appear when she saw the stars sprinkling the dark expanse – a sight for sore eyes, as it were.

"Excuse me, I will have you know that this nation is one of a kind."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know." Lexa could practically hear Clarke's eyes roll. "It's all collaborative and there's no excluding any particular governmental force. I know."

"Good to know you studied."

"I had to." There was scuffling and a few grunts over the connection; Lexa slowed her stride when she neared a particular bench, nodding at Gustus before sitting down and placing the McDonald's paper bag beside her. "I couldn't very well send myself into a warzone – albeit, it was a military hospital – without knowing anything about why I'm entering the warzone."

"Hey, military hospitals are important. I would know."

Clarke was quiet for awhile, and Lexa imagined she probably wasn't expecting Lexa's answer.

To be honest, the brunette herself wasn't sure what had gotten into her. She had never been this outright and brazen – never. Sure, she was proactive and she was good at leading, but when it came to relationships, she was always the one being approached and not the one doing the approaching. Lexa Woods just wasn't a people person.

Even when she first gotten together with Costia, it was Costia who sidled up to her with a glass of champagne and a tray of hors d'oeuvres she stole from a waiter. Lexa had been attracted to her, yes, but she was also a little too shy for her own good, so she didn't know how to interact with this girl who thought it was totally normal to just shove a tray of snacks into the princess' face and practically demand that they test it out together.

Costia was an old story, something that was stashed into a chest and meant to only serve as a reminder when seen. She was beautiful and intelligent and graceful, probably more fit to be a princess than Lexa ever would be – and Lexa had loved her as much as one could love a first love. And for that, she didn't think she'd ever be able to fully forgive the media for ruining their relationship with its lack of tack.

"Plus, there's this girl I met and she's like a big deal in the country I was born in, so I thought it's probably best I brush up on the politics in the Polis, you know," Clarke said, tugging Lexa out of her thoughts.

"Big deal, huh?"

"That's what I heard."

Lexa's eyes caught onto a figure strolling down the path where she was seated and her grin grew bigger. "Well, you better make sure you learn enough to deserve a seat in the Senate."

"I think I'd enjoy being a doctor more."

Lexa hummed. "Yeah, I bet. You got to see a princess naked up close."

And at 2.36 in the morning, on a random bench in Philly Park in a country where the people had either gone to sleep or just started their day, a trilling laughter broke the air as she listened to her phone companion sputter on the other side of the connection. The figure from the distance had grown much closer during that time.

Their eyes met when Clarke lifted her head, and then Lexa winked, adding on a "Hi."

The blonde clicked off her phone as she stared at Lexa with a mixture of disbelief and irritation. Then she just rolled her eyes and proceeded to join the princess on the bench, eying the McDonald's takeout bag with a deadpan expression.

"You're impossible," she finally remarked, reaching into the bag and coming with a handful of fries.

"That's what my mother tells me. Go ahead. Help yourself."

"Oh my god, nuggets."

The princess could only watch with barely concealed secondhand happiness as her new in-the-flesh companion dug into the McDonald's bag like her life depended on it. She had seen the doctor calm and professional; flustered; middle of the night messy but still kind of radiant in her own way; and now hungry and shameless.

Lexa had yet to see Dr. Clarke Griffin in a light that she didn't like, and she suspected she probably wouldn't for a long time.

"Don't take my Big Mac though," Lexa belatedly warned when she saw Clarke's hand sneaking out a familiar packaging.

The blonde dutifully dropped it and went on to dig around for the other burger. Soon enough, they were both digging into their respective burgers, chucking a few fries and snacking on nuggets in between. The crickets made their presence known amongst the bushes and the trees. A certain distance away, Gustus was smoking on what was perhaps his third stick of cigarette, the McDonald's takeout she got for him forgotten by his side.

Clarke had just disposed of the wrapping and continued her rampage on the fries when she asked, "So what are you doing here?"

"Taking a walk."

Lexa tried not to squirm under the blonde's scrutiny, but it was becoming quite a feat when Clarke didn't relent in her narrowed eyes and disbelieving hum. She bemoaned the Big Mac that she had just devoured and then switched her focus over to the fries, avoiding striking blue eyes at all costs.

"How long have you been doing this?"

"I have to head over to Sangeda tomorrow."

The silence that ensued wasn't all that silent. Lexa was hoping that Clarke would take it, bite onto the bait knowingly, and let her be guided away from her suspicion. On the other hand, Clarke – the intelligent person that she was – was probably debating whether she should pursue the subject or follow Lexa's lead.

What the blonde didn't know was that the ball was actually in her court, despite the princess' obvious effort to direct the conversation far away from her late night habits. If Clarke decided to not chomp onto the lame bait that Lexa had dangled in front of her, then Lexa would be honest. She didn't know why, she didn't want to know why yet, but she would.

Whatever Clarke wanted to know, Lexa would offer.

The doctor released a sigh. "Why are you going to Sangeda?"

Composure was key here; she couldn't let Clarke see exactly how relieved she was that Clarke went along with it. So she just lifted her eyes and offered a shrug. "Remember that program I've been telling you about?"

"Yeah," Clarke followed with a nod. "I remember thinking that you're really amazing for doing this for all those families out there."

"There's this husband. He has a kid with a heart condition and he really needs the money to get her through the rest of the year. I just wanna – I wanna see this little girl. I wanna look this little girl in the eye and tell her that her mother was very brave and heroic. I wanna look this little girl in the eye and tell her that she has nothing to worry about except to make her parents proud. I wanna look this little girl in the eye and…" Drifting off, she cleared her throat and looked away from the doctor. "I wanna look this little girl in the eye and tell her how sorry I am for sending her mother away and never bringing her back."

"Oh Lexa."

Suddenly, the brunette found herself ensconced in warmth and tenderness that she had only ever experienced that one time when her mother slept in her bed to scare away the monster in her closet. What surprised her more was that she just naturally sank into the touch, gave herself permission to be enveloped in this fireplace warmth that she had deprived herself since the moment she made her first kill.

Because she had made those kills. She had killed for the first time, and she followed with more kills – pulls of triggers, thrusts of knives, simple bludgeons with her fists. She had done it all. She had seen it all. She had taken lives. She had deprived other families – husbands, wives, children, fathers, mothers – of their hugs from their loved ones, regardless of whether those loved ones deserved to die or not.

In return, she didn't deserve this kind of affection, physical or emotional. When she had realized that killing made her feel no remorse any longer, she threw up into a bucket and told herself to make up for it by divesting herself from situations like this.

It was then that she remembered the promise she made herself – the only way of redemption that she could think of. And she snapped out of Clarke's arms and leaped to her feet, her lungs shrinking rapidly beneath her ribs and her cane forgotten as she stumbled on the grass and dug her calloused fingers into the soil, the mud finding homes under her nails.

Her ears rang and rang and rang, explosions and yells and cries and bullet rounds creating a crescendo of chaos that sank into her nerves and imploded her sense of reality. She would have taken off her jacket and sweater and cap and everything else to relieve herself from the burning that scalded everywhere had she not been frozen in place.

500 MILS. DSR-1. HS2000. M16. M1911. M249 SAW. M4. M4 Carbine. MP5. SR-25. XM2010.

Muffled voices came clearer. Hands grabbed on her forearm, gentle but firm. Another hand brushed across her forehead over and over again, stroking her skin and soothing her with its repetition.

She repeated the weapons one more time, imagined them one more time, and then it all became clearer.

"You're in Philly Park, four miles away from the palace, located in Polis, your home country. Listen to my voice, okay? This is Gustus Ashby, your bodyguard and a pain in your ass. Clarke's here too. Clarke Griffin, the pretty blonde doctor that saved your life in Libya. Okay? You hear me? You're in Philly Park, four miles away –"

Gustus only stopped in his dutiful chants when she found enough strength to raise a hand. The gentle hand on her forehead stopped in its movement, but the thumb didn't stop stroking her temple, which she was thankful for.

She blinked rapidly and found herself staring at a hand that had managed to dig deep enough into the soil that there would be a permanent park there. Slowly releasing her grip on the fistful of dirt, she inhaled a shaky breath before lifting her head to see Clarke kneeling before her, one arm extended hesitantly in her direction while the other hand cupping her head.

Oh god.

"Fuck," she whispered, lowering her head again.

"No, no fuck." She looked up again, frowning in confusion at the firmness in Clarke's tone and determined expression on her features. "You're –" Clarke exhaled harshly and shook her head. "You should go home," she implored.

Lexa gulped. She had scared the blonde away. She'd done it. Goddamn it. Still, she wasn't going to scare the doctor anymore than she already had, so she just pushed herself to her feet, refusing the help that her bodyguard and the blonde were offering her. It took a lot of effort, and she felt like she could inhale an entire tank of oxygen at the end of it, but she was on her feet.

She gazed at the doctor again, committing all features to memory because there was no way she'd ever be seeing Clarke again if the blonde had any choice in it. And Lexa was the last person to want to make Clarke feel uncomfortable.

She should have stuck with the phone calls and the text messages. The past three days had been almost blissful with the constant text alerts and the occasional calls whenever Clarke was not on shift. Talking to the blonde had really done something to calm Lexa down, which was something she had been seeking since the moment she came back home and experienced her first nightmare in the calm of home.

But she just had to be an idiot and buy the doctor goddamn McDonald's, all because she missed seeing Clarke's face. And now she would have no chance because the fight or flight system in her core had decided to activate itself, and she would never fight Clarke under any circumstances.

Fucking McDonald's.

"What's this?"

Lexa looked up from the card she was writing on and found her sister standing next to her, glancing down at the same card. She ignored Anya and signed her name, not even caring that Anya was reading the message, before handing it over to the maid. The maid scurried away, having already memorized the instructions that Lexa had given her about the card and the bouquet waiting to be delivered at the front door.

"Lexa, are you okay?" Anya asked.

The youngest sibling pulled on her coat and relieved her hair from under the confines. "Yeah, I'm good." She turned to her sister and said, "I'm sorry about the other day."

Anya blinked at Lexa before her brows set into a frown. "You don't have to apologize."

"I do."

"No, you don't," her sister said more firmly, clasping her hands over Lexa's arms. "Just…talk to me. Talk to anyone."

"I –" The brunette thought back to mere hours ago, when Clarke had been so prepared to get away from Lexa. She inhaled deeply and released her breath through her mouth, shaking her head. "I'm fine, I promise. I have a plane to catch."

"Lexa –"

"I'll catch up with you when I get back tomorrow, okay?"

Before Anya could pry her with more questions, she ducked out of the room and down the maze of corridors until she reached the front door. All the while, her hand gripping the phone in her coat pocket tightly, hoping and wishing and waiting desperately for it to vibrate, even when she knew full well that it wouldn't.

Gustus did not say a word when she got into the back of the car and drove. He hadn't said anything since the things he said to bring her back aboveground. She could tell that he wanted to, but she was still thankful that he kept his mouth shut. She didn't think she was ready to hear whatever he had in his mind.

All she could do now was hope that Clarke would forgive her, even if she didn't want to see Lexa again. Forgiveness from afar was better than nothing.

i don't have ptsd, i don't know anyone with ptsd, this is written based on what little research i've done. if you could show me the way, i'd be forever thankful. if there's anything wrong with my portrayal, i'm more than happy to listen.

also, guys, if you want to, you can show me support through ko-fi, which you can find on my tumblr at overcanary - one coffee still counts!