A/N Possible Trigger Warning
His body crumples to the ground, red already soaking the front of his shirt and pooling around him. Eyes closed, chest not rising, and blood. Blood and blood and blood. She doesn't hear the boy with the gun yelling commands at her, or her father telling her to listen. All she hears is the rapid beat of her heart thrumming in her ears as she stares at the lifeless body before her. Panic fills her bones while adrenaline envelops her muscles. Resisting the urge to lunge forward and attack, she fights back a sob as the gunman aims the shotgun at her father.
Clarke wakes with sweat beading down her face and soaked sheets. Panic swallows her up for a moment when she can't place her surroundings. I'm covered in blood! "No. Clarke, it's just sweat. You're okay." she tells herself. That's him standing in the corner! "No. No, it's not. Just a chair." But… I think I heard something from downstairs! She leans forward and runs her hand through her hair, brushing it out of her eyes. She sighs deeply, her heart heavy and tight as if someone were grasping her heart, determinedly trying to crush her from within. She takes deep breaths, counting to five, holding for two, and exhaling until her her body craves to take another gulp of air. She brawls with her brain as it comes up with scenarios she knows to be impossible, knows to be false, yet she can't help but believe that maybe they're true. That maybe, just maybe, he is here, and she should run. Run until she can't walk, then crawl until she can't move.
She glances at her clock and throws the covers off of herself, the chilly night air cooling her body. The early morning light barely illuminates her room as she slips into some running clothes. While putting on her shoes she hears a light knock on her door. Heart pounding and thoughts she had just fought to keep quiet force themselves to the forefront of her mind, all from that one simple act.
"Clarke, can I come in?" says Octavia very quietly, her voice raspy from sleep. Clarke lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Of course O." Octavia opens the door, her hair frazzled and misplaced, and sits down next to Clarke on the bed. Clarke doesn't look at her, focusing on putting on her shoes and getting outside as quickly as possible.
"Are you alright?" asks Octavia, " I heard you thrashing about… Is there anything I can do? Movie to keep your mind off things?" "I'm fine O. I promise." "I'm here for you. Me and Raven." She sighs softly. "I know, Octavia. I'm just gonna go for a run, okay? See you when I get back." She leaves her bedroom to head downstairs, leaving Octavia sitting alone on her bed.
Her breath is hard and labored, the wind blowing against her face making her feel like she is flying. The trees become one as she runs and runs, the morning events becoming foggy and distant with each step. The cold air burns her throat with every breath, and sweat drips down her brow. The sky, dark and cloudy, seemingly creating a barrier, making her feel isolated from the real world, and very real memories. As long as she didn't think of her past, that barrier remained.
Everywhere she went, she felt broken and useless as strangers, family, and friends looked at her with pity and sorrow. They offered her condolences, but every "I'm sorry for your loss" felt empty. How else are they supposed to handle it? She didn't know. She didn't know where to begin. She didn't know how she was going to get past this, or if she even could. There were a lot of things she didn't know but desperately needed too. She knew Octavia was just trying to help her. Help her forget, move on, and start anew. But she couldn't. Not when their lifeless bodies and cold, dead eyes were burned into her memory. She still saw their blood on her hands as she tried to stop the bleeding, and no matter how many times she washed and washed, it never came off. Everytime she closed her eyes she saw his smile behind the barrel of the gun, never once seeing regret, just hunger. A hunger for pain, hurt, and blood.
She turns the corner and sees a figure up ahead. She freezes dead in her tracks. Her heart stops, and her chest tightens. The figure is coming towards her; running towards her. Her whole body feels like it is being crushed underneath a car. The pain and the fear becomes too overwhelming. She tries to turn around and run, but her limbs are like lead, feeling heavy and slow. She collapses to the ground, helpless as the figure approaches her, and bends down. She tries to back away, using her hands to push herself, but she can't breathe and oh god. She can't breathe.
"Clarke. Listen to me."
That's not his voice. She blinks, her breathing still sharp and violent. This can't be happening. "Clarke. It's me, Lexa." No its a trap. He's here, he's finishing the job. Fight back this time! Clarke pushes with all her might at the body in front of her, and makes a strained effort to crawl away on her stomach, her body exhausted and sapped. "Clarke, listen to the sound of my voice. Wherever you are in your head, its not real." Clarke blinks and sees the the ground and the trees. "Take in your surroundings. Breathe. Focus."
Clarke sees the small pebbles on the ground, and the blades of grass, slightly swaying in the wind. He's not here… He can't be. She takes in a deep breath, her chest slightly relieved of the pressure. "Clarke." Lexa says as she slowly comes to the side of her. "I— go. I... I need to go. Now." Clarke stammers breathlessly. Lexa nods, "Okay. Let's just—" Clarke falls back into the spiral. He's coming. He's here for you. She glances up and sees Wells and her father's bodies two feet away from her, blood covering the ground. Then there he is. Standing slightly behind them, a shotgun casually slung over his shoulder, he smiles at her. "Hey, Princess." He's not real… They're not real… Lexa's here. She's real, not them. But maybe he… Lexa sees Clarke's eyes go wide with panic again as she starts to scramble to get away. Lexa gently but firmly cups Clarke's face with both hands. "Clarke. Hey. Look at me." Clarke takes a shaky breath and blinks, staring into dark green swirls, trying to give all her attention to reality. "Count with me, okay? One." "One." Clarke repeats shakily. "Two." "Two." "Three." "Three." They count to ten, and go back down. Then they do it again, repeating until any sign of fear is completely gone from Clarke's eyes, Lexa's hands only dropping when she is positive Clarke won't fall back in. Clarke doesn't realize when the blood disappears, or the bodies, or that horrible boy. She just sees green, the only anchor holding her down in this moment.
They sit side by side, with some distance between them, for stay until the sun is almost directly above them, skin warm, and muscles tight and aching to be moved. The silence between them, comfortable and peaceful. Lexa never asks what happened, or what she had seen. She respects the distance and doesn't push Clarke, which she is very grateful for. Lexa also doesn't coddle her with affection or attention, just genuine concern for her well-being. They sit together that way until Lexa notices Clarke start to nod off, exhaustion finally catching up to her and the past event having drained her energy.
"Would you like to head back, Clarke? Maybe sleep in a bed and not dirt?" Lexa says with a grin. Clarke rolls her eyes but can't help the small smile that appears. "I'll take that as a yes." Lexa stands and offers her hand to Clarke, which she takes gratefully. They walk back to Clarke's vacation home, brushing shoulders every so often. Sun shining down on them, sweat slightly dampening their foreheads, they move quietly down the small dirt road.
"Hey Lexa?" Clarke asks hesitantly. "Yes?" she says, turning her heads toward Clarke. "Thanks for helping me." Clarke prepares herself for an awkward reply, a barrage of questions, pitying looks, or all of the above.
"You're welcome, but it is not something that needs to be thanked." Clarke is taken aback even more and is about to reply when Lexa continues, "You are a pretty fast runner. Do you run every day?" Clarke tilts her head, slightly confused, but immensely thankful. "Oh, uh, usually. You?" Lexa nods her answer. "I'd love to run faster and farther though. I've been trying to get my friend Raven or Octavia to come with me, but sadly they are the definition of lazy when it comes to physical activity." Clarke says with a chuckle, becoming more comfortable around Lexa with each second. Lexa chuckles with her as well, "Well I would be happy to run with you. If you want, that is"
They round the next corner and come into Clarke's driveway. "I'd like that." Clarke replies with a smile and small flip of her stomach. Lexa watches as Clarke climbs up her wooden stairs, "You're gonna have to keep up though. You're fast, but I'm faster," Lexa teases, "See you at 5am sharp!" Clarke waves goodbye as she internally groans at the thought of waking up so early.