Hey guys. Hopefully you're all doing well. This chapter isn't very long —more of a filler than anything else. I really appreciate the feedback from my last update. It means a lot to me to hear that this story means something to some of you as well. A few of you have asked about how frequently I'll be updating. I'm hoping to update at least once a month but, of course, life gets in the way of our schedules sometimes. For now, once a month is the plan. Sometimes it might happen more often, sometimes it might be pretty spaced out. But I promise I'm going to continue writing this until it is completed.
She woke with a start, sweat clinging to her forehead and her hands clutching the bedsheet. She was sitting straight up, her heart beating angrily in her chest. She could barely catch her breath, the panic that she felt in her dream now consuming her in her waking life. For the briefest moment, she didn't know where she was. She was alone, in a room that she hadn't slept in in months. The panic built, and then she recognized the setup of her own room —the one in her real home— and the events of the previous night came flooding back at her.
Running. Showing up at Raven's doorstep. Raven tending to her wounds. It all came rushing back at her like a wave, attempting to drown her and sucking her deeper, deeper, deeper into her panic. It was real. It was all real.
It had all really happened.
It had really happened.
She felt sick. No, more than that. It was more than nausea. It was repulsion. It was an awful, suffocating sickness that she'd never felt before. She barely even registered her own actions as she shot out of bed and ran for the bathroom. She hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach into the basin without hesitation. She lurched again, a failed effort because her stomach was already empty. There was nothing left to expell. But she felt sick to the core, and she dry-heaved involuntarily, her body and her mind at war with each other. She didn't even register that she was crying, that tears were streaking down her face once again.
She shut her eyes, forcing herself to take a breath. She was clutching the sides of the toilet seat, her knuckles white with the intensity of her grip. She didn't even realize until she'd attempted to calm herself that Raven was behind her, holding her blonde hair up behind her head. She tensed up slightly when Raven's hand found her back, but she relaxed into it a moment later, dry heaving once more.
"Fuck," she muttered, pained and frustrated.
She was frustrated with herself. She was frustrated with how sick she felt. She was frustrated with the fact that she couldn't stop herself from dry heaving, nausea grabbing hold of her every time she finally managed to catch her breath. She was frustrated that she had just woken up and she was already struggling to hold it together. She was frustrated that she'd woken up to find that it was all real. She was frustrated that it had happened.
She dry heaved once more, shutting her eyes tightly as she willed herself to pull it together. She felt like shit already, and this wasn't helping. She needed to catch her breath, to settle her own nerves. She clenched her jaw, gripped the seat even more tightly as she took in a deep, shaky breath. She let it out, gritting her teeth hard. Raven said something to her, but she didn't hear it. She just needed to calm herself, to fight the urge that her body had.
A minute or two passed before she'd regained control of her body, before she was breathing evenly, no longer consumed with the urge to throw up. The episode had been exhausting, though, and she let out a heavy sigh as she sat on the tile floor. She leaned back against the bathtub and Raven let go of the blonde's hair. With her eyes still shut, Clarke didn't even realize that Octavia had been standing in the doorway throughout the entire event.
"Are you alright?" Raven asked softly, her hand on Clarke's shoulder.
The blonde just nodded, not quite ready to open her eyes. She didn't know what time it was, but the exhaustion that still consumed her indicated that she hadn't slept for long —had it been two hours, maybe three? She felt like a trainwreck. She probably looked like one, too. God, she was tired.
"I, uh, I didn't think you'd be up this soon," Raven spoke after a second, her voice laced with hesitancy. She paused, then continued, her voice even more unsure. "I was gonna tell you when you woke up, but, uh... Octavia's here."
Clarke's eyes shot open, her jaw dropping as she immediately saw the other woman standing in the doorway. She didn't even know how she felt. "Shocked" wasn't quite enough. No, a part of Clarke was horrified. Horrified that, after having not seen each other for four months, Octavia's first glimpse of Clarke was her hunched over the toilet in tears. Horrified that Octavia was there —that, clearly, Raven had told her about her arrival already. Horrified that Octavia was seeing her like this. Not just nauseous and an emotional wreck, but like this. She knew she probably looked like hell.
She couldn't even read Octavia's expression. The woman was leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She didn't quite look welcoming, but she didn't look angry either. She just looked... sad. Not quite pitiful, not quite worried, not quite shocked. Just sad.
"Hey, Clarke," Octavia said, giving Clarke a tight smile and a small wave. Her voice was low, quiet.
Clarke swallowed nervously, pushing herself up off of the ground. She winced, a sudden pain spiking in her side as she moved so quickly. She pushed the pain aside, though, and stood.
"Hey," she tried, her nerves rising a little as she spoke, unsure of what to even say. "Sorry you, uh, had to see that..."
Her voice trailed off, her heart heavy. She hadn't expected a warm welcome from Octavia, but she hadn't expected this either. She hadn't expected that the next time they saw each other, she hunched over a toilet. She didn't think that she would be so caught off guard, so unprepared. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do, or think. After Raven had let her into the house that night, Clarke had known that she'd be seeing Octavia sometime soon. But she'd thought that it would be on her own time, or that —at the very least— she would have been given some sort of warning.
She swallowed hard, then glanced at Raven, whose eyes were filled with guilt. Clearly the brunette was well-aware of her mistake, and Clarke knew that she couldn't hold it against her. Raven had probably planned on letting Clarke know privately that Octavia was around, or on at least introducing the two in an environment that didn't include Clarke dry heaving over the toilet.
She looked at Raven almost desperately, praying that she could at least break the ice somehow. With every second of silence that passed between her and Octavia, Clarke could practically feel her nerves tightening. She could feel Octavia's eyes scanning her up and down, could feel the woman's gaze on her face.
"Um, do you want coffee?" Raven asked, hoping to ease the tension somehow. "We already had some, but I'm gonna make myself another cup anyway."
Octavia arrived at Raven's apartment just after nine 0'clock. Raven had texted her a little after eight to tell her that Clarke was sleeping, so she was careful not to make very much noise as she entered. Having her own key to the apartment made it easy for her to enter silently, and she sent Raven a text once she'd gotten there. She took off her shoes, stepped into the living room, and waited. A minute later, Raven was stepping out of Clarke's room, exhaustion written across her face.
She was caught by surprise when Raven pulled her in for a hug. It was a tight embrace, and Raven let out a sigh laced with exhaustion and relief into her shoulder. She returned the hug, her concern really beginning to set in.
"Thank you for coming," Raven breathed. Her voice was sorrowful, heavy.
When Octavia pulled away, she gave Raven a puzzled look and frowned.
"You okay?" She asked, taking in just how tired Raven really appeared.
"Not really," she answered honestly, shaking her head and letting out a heavy sigh.
The two entered the kitchen, and Octavia leaned against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. Raven immediately went for the coffee machine, clearly in need of some caffeine.
"How much sleep did you get?"
"Maybe an hour or two before Clarke showed up," Raven answered honestly.
"That's it?"
Raven nodded, placing one of the instant coffee pods into the machine. She turned it on and leaned against the counter to face Octavia. She shut her eyes, taking in a deep breath and then exhaling loudly, her shoulders falling.
"She didn't fall asleep until like, an hour ago. I stayed with her, but I didn't want to fall asleep in case she needed anything," Raven explained. "Plus, I didn't want to fall asleep in there with this thing still on," she muttered, patting her left leg.
Octavia glanced to Raven's left calf, the prosthetic hidden under the engineer's pajama pants. She looked back to Raven's face. The woman looked rough. It was clear that she'd been crying at some point, and her sleep deprivation was visible.
"Jesus, Rae, I could've come later on if you'd told me," she responded, feeling guilty for showing up when she did.
Raven just pursed her lips and shook her head.
"I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway," she admitted. "I'm too worried about her, O."
The machine beeped and Raven grabbed the coffee cup. She placed another pod in and set another cup onto the drip tray. Taking a sip of her own drink, Raven let out a soft sigh of relief. She needed that.
Octavia, though, didn't quite feel relieved. She'd been fighting off her concerns since Raven's call, attempting to convince herself that Clarke's situation wasn't nearly as serious as Raven had made it out to be over the phone. But now, seeing the engineer's genuine exhaustion and hearing the heaviness of her tone, Octavia could feel her stomach beginning to turn. She could feel her worries beginning to surface.
"How bad is it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Raven just bit her lip, her eyes still closed. Where should she even start? What could she say to express her fears without jumping to conclusions? What could she say to address how bad the situation was without making potentially dangerous assumptions? How much did she even have a right to share? How many of her concerns were valid enough to be addressed?
"I think it's bad, O," Raven finally spoke, her voice weak. She opened her eyes to meet Octavia's gaze. "I don't know what happened, but she wouldn't look like that if it wasn't bad. She wouldn't act like that if it wasn't bad. She was... she was terrified. She was a mess. I've never seen her like that before, Octavia."
Octavia let out a slow breath and nodded. The two headed to the living room a moment later, each carrying their own coffee. They sat down on the couch, feet up on the cushions as they faced one another. Octavia cradled the coffee cup in her hands, lost in thought. Clarke had been gone for so long. For four months, with absolutely no warning. No explanation. No contact. The closest thing to an explanation that the women had received a small note on the kitchen counter that read:
I can't stay in Polis any longer. Please don't try to contact me. I am safe. I'll reach out to you when I'm able to. I'm sorry.
(Raven, I'll send you my part of the rent online each month until the lease is up)
And she'd never contacted them.
And now, apparently, she was back. She was back in the apartment, in her room. After four months, Clarke was back. Octavia wanted to understand. She wanted to know how to feel about all of this. But she didn't. She was hurt —she was hurt that Clarke had left, that she hadn't respected or cared about them enough to give them a reason. She was hurt that Clarke hadn't valued their friendship —their little family— enough to contact them, or even just to give them a genuine apology. She was hurt that Clarke had tossed them to the side so easily, so suddenly, as if they meant nothing to her. She was so hurt, and a part of her wanted nothing more than to shout at Clarke, to tell her off for how she'd treated them, to demand an explanation.
Had things been normal, that would be the case. Had Raven not told her everything she'd told her already, Octavia would have driven over at four in the morning just to tell Clarke to fuck right off.
But things weren't normal. Clearly, things weren't normal. Clearly, things were bad. Something had happened to Clarke, and Octavia was struggling. She was struggling to figure out what to feel. Raven's vague answers really weren't helping, and without having seen Clarke herself, Octavia was finding it a little bit difficult not to be mad. After all, she didn't know the severity of it. She didn't know just how bad Clarke had been hurt. All she knew was that something had happened, and Clarke had come running back here.
"Okay," Octavia breathed after a few minutes of silence. Raven looked up at her. "Alright, Rae, what do I need to know? Walk me through what happened last night."
She would decide how she felt after she'd heard it. After she'd heard what was actually going on.