31
The Meeting of Earth and Sky
CLARKE
Clarke was already cringing out of habit before she shoved the door open. But for once, it wasn't the horrible cheerful voice of ALIE who greeted her.
"Welcome to SWOM Laboratories..." Monty's voice was low, smooth, and slow... Almost sexy. Almost. "Where saving the world is just another day in the lab..." A second's pause and then Monty's normal voice sounded from the speakers. "What does S.W.O.M stand for anyways?"
"Stop... Wasting... Oxygen, Monty." Raven's voice replied, followed by the unmistakable chuckles of Abby as Jackson spoke next. "Abby... I think you're still recording, you have to hit the..."
The transmission cut off suddenly and Raven appeared before her, dressed to the nines in her stained labcoat, filmy safety goggles, and yellow latex gloves. "What do you think?" She asked with a skywards glance. "Too long?"
"It's perfect!" Clarke laughed. "So, SO much better than before. But... What DOES S.W.O.M. stand for?"
"'Stubborn Women On Missions' of course." Raven grinned.
"It's perfect." Clarke repeated. "Fucking perfect. I feel like we should have special matching shirts made or something. Or maybe just engrave the initials across the back straps of all the safety goggles."
"I'll get Monty on that." Raven laughed. "He needs tasks to keep him busy when Harper's not around. Otherwise he just drives me crazy talking about her. I told him I'm pretty sure I've known Harper as long as he has... I don't need him reciting her entire life story to me everyday."
"Aww... He's in love." Clarke cooed.
"I know..." Raven's magnified eyes made a huge circle behind her goggles. "It's disgusting."
"Where is Monty, anyway?" Clarke asked.
"I banished the boys to the man-cave downstairs. We just finished another huge batch of the serum, we finally have enough for all of Azgeda now. So I told them they could take a break, before we start Trishana's. They jumped up and down like it was Christmas and tried to hug me. But really I just needed to get rid of them for a while... So I could focus on other things." She finished in a low, mischievous voice, cocking an eyebrow and flashing Clarke a magnified wink that was in no way subtle.
"I sent for you because I have good news." Raven grinned. "I have good news... And I have FUCKING good news."
Clarke felt her heartbeat quicken at the glint in Raven's huge brown eyes. She held her breath... Waiting.
"I'll start with MY news... Because I'm selfish like that." Raven laughed. "You know how I told you I found my own special journal? Well... It wasn't an accident that the City of Light chips, in addition to connecting you to the city, also interfered with pain perception. Chris was conducting tons of side research in the area of neural-glial purinergic receptor ensemble in states of chronic, long-term pain..."
"Raven, you're losing me." Clarke cut in.
"Right... Let's just say Chris was working on locating specific areas of the brain involved in pain perception and developing ways to shut down targeted neural pathways..." Raven paused at Clarke's blank expression.
"I know how to trick my brain into thinking my knee is fine." She finally blurted out in words Clarke could actually understand.
"Really?" Clarke asked, excitement and worry battling within her. "And you're sure it won't mess with your memories or turn you into some peace-loving hippie zombie, right?"
"No..." Raven gave her a giddy grin. "I'll still be me. And don't worry, if you punch me in the face, I'll still feel pain. Just not all the fucking time."
"When have I ever punched you in the face, Raven?" Clarke laughed. "If I remember right, YOU'RE the one who once punched ME in the face. And THAT pain was real."
"Yeah... Well..." Raven laughed right back. "Sometimes we DESERVE to feel the pain. Which is why I'm making sure it will only interfere with the neural pathways directly linked through my spinal cord to the tissues in my knee. I'm THIS close, Clarke." Raven breathed, holding her thumb and forefinger so closely together that the floppy tips of the over-sized latex gloves drooped against each other. "THIS close."
"That IS fucking good news, Raven." Clarke smiled, genuinely happy for her friend. Because of all the people in the world who deserved something good in their lives, Raven was at the top of Clarke's list. Raven had endured way more physical and emotional pain than any single person ever should. She had gone through so much shit. And yet... She remained one of the kindest, most compassionate, and selfless people Clarke knew. And she managed to maintain her sassy, witty sense of humor to boot. And it was about time Raven found some happiness. Clarke was about to pull Raven into a hug, when the girl held up a droopy yellow glove to stop her.
"Naw..." Raven said. "That was just the good news..." She paused to pull off her gloves and push her goggles onto the crown of her head so she could fix Clarke with a properly intense gaze. And Clarke felt her heartbeat quickening again. Her palms were starting to sweat as if encased in their own pair of hot latex gloves.
"The FUCKING good news is that you passed... The bloodwork checked out." Raven cocked her enormous grin to one side and held out a sweaty palm. "Congratulations, Griffin... The third dose took... You're officially a Nightblood."
...
"Ready?" Raven asked one last time, squeezing Clarke's hand tightly.
"Ready." Clarke answered, and the word was both a complete understatement and a bold-faced lie. Her heart was racing so wildly the thumping in her chest was almost painful. The blood was pulsing through her neck and in her wrists and in her ears so thick and fast she feared her arteries might just rupture from the pressure. The palm wrapped in Raven's was so sweaty it was embarrassing. The tightness in her chest made every breath too shallow and she could not pull the oxygen in fast enough to keep up with the ever-growing demands of her racing blood. She felt dizzy already.
She had been waiting for this moment for weeks and days and hours and minutes and seconds. Waiting, waiting, waiting through every moment since she had first let the icy waters numb the rational part of her brain and allowed herself to be batshit crazy. And now that the time had finally come, she suddenly felt numb again. She felt like she might pass out. She wondered if maybe she was having a heart attack or an aneurysm, or a stroke... Or maybe just a good old-fashioned panic attack. Because this idea was batshit crazy. And maybe she was too, because nothing, not even clinical heart failure, was going to stop her at this point.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
And she was ready. She was absolutely, utterly ready.
And she was not ready at all. Not even a little bit.
"Ascende Superius." Raven spoke and, for the second time in her life, Clarke felt the strange sensation in the back of her neck like someone had slit her skin open with the thinnest of blades and now a spider was burrowing its way into the gash.
The pain wracked through her body like lava in her veins and she went rigid with it. Her toes curled in her boots and her fingers clenched so tightly around Raven's she feared she might break Raven's hand in her own. But she was powerless to release it. And someone was screaming and she wished they would stop because the terror and pain in the girl's cries made Clarke's ears throb and the hairs on her arms stand.
And as soon as she wished it, the screaming abruptly stopped as Clarke's rigid body went limp. Her toes uncurled and her fingers unclenched and her hand fell from Raven's fingertips into empty, lonely space. And her last thought was of the green of Lexa's eyes as everything around her faded to black.
...
Clarke opened her eyes to a gentle yellow light filtering through the trees, tinging their trunks in gold. The sun was setting softly behind her, sending long shadows through the forest. Clarke was dressed in the simple gray knit shirt and cargo pants that she had worn her last day in space, her very first day on Earth. But instead of the puffy, synthetic jacket, draped over her shoulders was the long, fur-lined cloak Titus had given her. The strange combination made her look something in-between Arker and Grounder. But it didn't feel weird. It felt comfortable. It felt right.
Clarke took a deep breath of forest air so thick and fresh and pure it sank into the bottom of her lungs like water and she could almost taste the flavors of the forest on her tongue. Night was falling so slowly, so gently around her it was like someone was unfolding a blue-black blanket, draping it over the tips of the trees and tucking its edges in around the forest the way her father used to tuck her in as a child. And the last golden rays of the sun caressing her cheek was like the feel of his chapped lips on her forehead, as tender and swift as his goodnight kiss. And then the sun was eclipsed by the curve of the earth and the soft yellow light flickered out like the harsh fluorescent light in her room went out with the flick of her father's finger. And the dim light of twilight engulfing Clarke was like the strip of light spilling into her room through the door her father always left cracked open for her.
Clarke watched the shadows collecting and gasped as suddenly all around her tiny flowers began to open as if greeting the darkness. As they unfolded, a soft white-purple light filled the thin space between earth and sky. The flowers were glowing, the light spilling from their petals and collecting on the forest floor like puddles of lavender moonlight.
Clarke felt her jaw drop at the sight and fell to her knees to inspect the nearest flower. It was some kind of wood violet, tiny and delicate, and its petals shimmered as much purple as silver. Unable to resist the urge, she plucked the tiny flower and watched in complete awe as its petals burned pure gold in her palm for the briefest of moments before its soft light was forever swallowed by the darkness.
She let the extinguished flower drift from her palm and rose to her feet, wishing the golden glow could have lingered a little longer, only to lift her eyes and find tiny golden lights glimmering in the night all around as if the stars had suddenly dropped right out of the sky. The lights flashed and flickered as they dove and swirled and danced around her. Again unable to resist the urge, she reached out to pluck one of the lights right out of the air, wanting to hold a star in her hand. She wanted to put it in her pocket and save it for a rainy day, just like in the song her dad used to sing to her on the nights when the kiss to the forehead was not enough to keep the nightmares at bay.
She reached out to catch a falling star, but the firefly was too fast for her. It dodged her grasp, weaving through the gaps in her fingers as easily as the gaps in the trees. And Clarke chased the dancing light through the glowing forest until the tips of her boots collided with stone and the firefly flew far beyond her reach, skimming over the tumbling waters of a gentle river.
And Clarke stood in the purple-white glow, watching the golden lights hover and dance over the black waters, mimicking the actual stars flickering above her in the blue-black strip of sky. And she thought to herself that this was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. And she wished she had someone to share this moment with. More than anything, she wished she had Lexa by her side.
"Clarke?" The voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, trickling into Clarke's ears like the low murmuring of the stream beside her. And for one second Clarke thought the longing inside of her was playing tricks on her, because it was the voice Clarke only heard when she closed her eyes and let the memories in.
"Clarke?" The name fell on her ears like a secret whispered in the night, meant for only her to hear, and this time Clarke turned, feeling foolish at the rush of hope in her chest. Because the voice was Lexa's. And Lexa was gone.
And Clarke blinked and blinked and blinked. Because Lexa was standing in the forest, surrounded by a hundred purple flowers and a hundred golden lights. And the girl standing before Clarke was not the warrior with a mask of black around her eyes or braids in her hair. She was not the commander with the silver charm between her brows or the orange-red sash cascading from her shoulder. She was not the girl who carried the weight of thirteen nations on her shoulders, who was burdened with duties to her people and plagued by worries for their care.
The girl standing before her was Lexa... just Lexa. A girl who, like Clarke, was just a girl. And she was wearing the same thin, long-sleeved top that showed the skin of her shoulders and followed the line of her collarbones, the same top Clarke had once tossed on the floor with trembling fingers. And her hair was loose and wild and free and draped over one shoulder. And she was wearing that same small smile she used to flash at Clarke whenever Titus wasn't looking.
And Clarke gazed at her and forgot all about the glowing violets and the golden lights. And she blinked and she blinked and she blinked because THIS, she thought to herself, THIS was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
"Lexa?" A whisper. A prayer.
Clarke was so stunned, she felt paralyzed. She could not move. Not her legs... not her arms... not a single finger, despite the fact that all ten were quaking at her sides. But Lexa crossed the distance between them for her and reached out and took those trembling fingers in her own. And Clarke just blinked and blinked and blinked.
And finally she found the ability to move again. And she pulled her hands from Lexa's and wrapped the trembling fingers around her cheeks and the edges of her jaw and the bases of her tiny earlobes and into her hair because she needed to know that this was real. And when Lexa remained solid beneath her fingertips, she finally let herself believe.
And she threw her arms around Lexa and held her so tightly it was as if she feared the girl might evaporate into thin air at any second. And she clutched her against her chest as if afraid she might be ripped from her arms if she didn't hold on tightly enough. And Lexa let out a small laugh that was nothing but joy, pure joy, as she wrapped her arms around Clarke just as tightly as Clarke was wrapped around her.
"I knew you'd find a way back to me." She whispered in Clarke's ear as she let Clarke hold her and hold her and hold her. And the tears welled in Clarke's eyes and spilled down her cheeks as Lexa held her and held her and held her. And when she finally pulled out of the hug, Lexa's thumbs flicked the tears from Clarke's cheeks despite the fact that tears dripped silently down her own cheeks too. And she was grinning now, looking at Clarke as if she were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
And Clarke moved into the space between them even as Lexa moved towards her. And their lips collided in the middle like magnets meeting. And Clarke wanted to kiss Lexa smooth and deep, but she couldn't control her lips because they were too busy smiling to listen to anything Clarke had to say. And Lexa was grinning too. And the kisses were messy and wet from the tears and interrupted by laughs as their teeth bonked together and punctuated by giggles as their noses rubbed. And Clarke felt like she was suffocating. And Clarke felt like she was breathing, truly breathing, for the first time.
And when they both felt too dizzy with breathless giddiness, they pulled out of the kissing and leaned their foreheads against each other and breathed each other in.
"I'd thought I'd lost you forever." Clarke breathed. "Lost you forever, all over again."
Lexa put one tender hand on Clarke's cheek, as the tears began to flow once more. "You'll never lose me again, Clarke. Never ever, ever, again."
...
"Where are we?" Clarke asked Lexa as they sat side-by-side watching the fireflies dancing over the tumbling waters of the river. "I mean... Is this place real? Or is it... In my head?"
"I suppose you could say it's both." Lexa laughed.
"It's beautiful." Clarke sighed, weaving her fingers more tightly into Lexa's.
"Of course it is." Lexa chuckled, raising Clarke's hand to her face and planting a kiss on the back of it. "You created it, and YOU'RE beautiful."
"What did it look like when YOU had the flame?" Clarke asked, overwhelmed with curiosity.
"More often than not... a meadow." Lexa answered. "A gorgeously green meadow filled with a thousand different wildflowers... Cheerful yellow daisies and puffy white dandelions, dainty bluebells and tiny red fairy bells, painfully orange poppies and tall pinkish-purple fireweed. A meadow with dark firs around its edges and the biggest open sky above, as brilliantly blue as your eyes."
"It sounds beautiful." Clarke smiled. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You created it, and YOU'RE beautiful." She chuckled, raising Lexa's hand to her mouth to plant a kiss on the back of it.
Clarke was still getting used to the sound of Lexa's laugh. And she had decided that it was even more beautiful than the sound of her voice. And she wanted nothing more than to listen to it ringing through the air like bells forever. She wanted to memorize its rhythm, its beats and notes and melody, like a song. She wanted to be able to replay it in her head over and over and over again. And she knew she would gladly make a fool of herself every day for the rest of her life just so she could hear the music of Lexa's laughter playing in the space between them.
"So..." Clarke spoke. "Where are the other commanders? They're here somewhere, right?"
"Only if you summon them." Lexa answered.
"Summon them?"
"Just like you summoned me."
"How exactly DID I summon you?" Clarke asked with a confused laugh.
"You have to want their company. That's all. You just have to want them here, and they'll appear."
"Wow. It's like magic." Clarke laughed. "But I didn't summon you by just WANTING your company, Lexa. I'm pretty sure I downright CRAVED you into existence."
The music played again and Clarke savored the sound.
"So..." Clarke started, shooting Lexa a mischievous grin and a sideways glance. "If I DON'T want their company, no one can come, right? I mean... We're completely alone, right?"
"Right..." Lexa shot Clarke her own mischievous grin and it was enough to make Clarke's heart flutter faster and her stomach jolt behind her navel and her fingers tingle at the tips. "Why?"
"I have an idea." Clarke said, trying her best not to laugh at the excited anticipation written all over Lexa's face.
"Yes?" Lexa's grin and the light in her eyes almost made Clarke change her mind. ALMOST.
"Teach me to swim." Clarke blurted out.
"What?" Lexa asked, completely surprised by the request.
"Teach me to swim." Clarke repeated, feeling a little too satisfied at the sudden look of disappointment in Lexa's eyes. Not because she wanted to disappoint Lexa, but because she knew what Lexa really wanted, and that knowledge made her burn inside.
"Now?" Lexa asked as Clarke just nodded with wild excitement in her wide eyes.
"Now?" She repeated, as if the idea was ludicrous, as if some random onlookers might catch them swimming in the semi-darkness and mumble and shake their heads in disapproval.
"Yes, now!" Clarke laughed. "Please?" She begged, leaping to her feet and tugging at Lexa's wrist.
Lexa chewed her bottom lip, hesitating, remaining stubbornly seated, despite Clarke's tugs. Clarke released Lexa's wrists and bent before her, resting her elbows on the sharp points of Lexa's kneecaps so that she could lean in close to her face. She fixed her with a serious look.
"I have to learn now, Lexa." She said in a low, dramatic voice. "Right now. Because I'm drowning... Drowning in your eyes."
The line was stupid... So gloriously stupid. And Clarke burst into untamed, uncontrollable laughter at the confusion it brought to Lexa's face.
"Come on." She pleaded between giggles, leaning even further forward to hook her forearms under Lexa's armpits so she could pry her from the ground. Lexa finally rose to her feet obediently and let Clarke pull her by the wrist, running and laughing as she dragged Lexa across the stony shore. Clarke paused at the water's edge and ripped her shirt from her shoulders, tossing it carelessly onto the ground as she tugged at her pants. Once free of her clothes, she raced into the gentle waves, splashing the water with the joyful, carefree enthusiasm of a toddler stomping through puddles in the rain.
She waded out into the cold until the water lapped at her nipples and shoulder blades and the tips of her hair, and then turned to watch Lexa carefully, meticulously undressing on the shore. She studied the curves and lines of her, wanting to memorize every inch... The sharp ridges of her collarbones, the plump swells of her breasts, the smooth, flat plain of her tummy, the soft curves of her hips. Every inch of her was utterly beautiful, down to her knobbly knees and long, slender toes.
It seemed an eternity to Clarke, as Lexa folded her clothes and neatly stacked them on a fallen log. But she would have happily gazed at her until the world, itself, stopped breathing.
At last, Lexa stepped from stone into water and waded out to the place where Clarke waited for her, grinning, trembling with the cold and with the anticipation. But Lexa was frowning as she approached her and Clarke felt her grin droop.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm afraid..." Lexa said in a sad, low voice. "That I can't teach you to swim right now, Clarke."
"What?" Clarke frowned, confused. "Why not?"
"Because..." Lexa paused, pursing her lips and dropping her voice to a whisper. "You have to smile... It only works if you smile."
"What?" Clarke was now completely, utterly confused.
"Just smile for me." Lexa commanded, her voice now loud, demanding, and just a little whiney.
Clarke's eyebrows were still knitted in confusion, but she slowly wrenched the corners of her lips upwards.
Lexa gave her a satisfied smirk of approval. Then she grew serious again. "I'm afraid I can't teach you to swim, Clarke, because I think I've forgotten how. Because I'm drowning... Drowning in your smile." She finished with her own sudden, wild burst of laughter.
The line was stupid... So gloriously stupid. But it had worked. Boy, had it worked.
Clarke watched Lexa double over in laughter at her own joke, grinning stupidly like a child. This laughter was louder and freer than any of the others and Clarke added the melody to her playlist as she gazed in absolute wonder at the girl before her. She had never seen Lexa look so young and careless and blissfully free. And the affection she felt inside of her as she stared, mesmerized by the beauty of this moment, was like a wildness within her. It was like flames burning and dancing and licking at the edges of her heart. It was like waves of water churning and rushing and flooding her insides. It was like lightning running through her veins and into every inch of her tingling skin. It was like thunder rumbling in her chest, building and building and building, demanding to be released. It was an affection so powerful that it made her ache inside... A love so raw and real and bloody that it hurt.
And it was the best kind of pain. And Clarke needed Lexa like a roiling hunger, like a burning thirst, like an awful, terrible itch demanding to be scratched. Every inch of her body... Her skin, her flesh, her bones, her blood, her organs, her soul... every ounce of her entire being was screaming for relief. She craved her. She needed her. She needed her. She needed her.
Clarke closed the inches between them, because she needed to be closer. And she reached out and wrapped her hands around Lexa's laughing face because she needed to feel her skin beneath her tingling, itching fingertips. And she wove her trembling fingers into Lexa's wild curly hair because she needed something to hold onto.
Lexa's laughter caught on her tongue as her glinting eyes went wide and her plump lips parted in surprise. And Clarke pressed her lips against Lexa's because Lexa's lips were the only thing that could keep her from drowning or from bursting into a million pieces. And Lexa's lips were the only thing that could fill the desperate hunger inside of her. And she craved her. And she needed her. She needed her. She needed her.
"I thought you wanted to learn how to swim." Lexa whispered as Clarke finally pulled her lips away. Lexa's voice was breathless, airy. She looked woozy, dazed, as if the water swirling around them was the only thing keeping her on her feet.
"I don't have to learn right now." Clarke breathed. "It can wait."
"Good." Was all Lexa managed to get out before she smashed her lips against Clarke's with such a wild hunger that Clarke stumbled back from the force of it. And Lexa only pressed further into her, until there was no gap between them, no space left for air or water. And Lexa kissed Clarke as if Clarke's lips were the only thing that could keep her from drowning or bursting into a million pieces. And she kissed her as if there was a desperate hunger deep inside of her that only Clarke could fill. And she kissed her as if she needed... needed... needed her.
...
Clarke's body was still tingling in all the right places. The heat... the wonderful, wonderful warmth... Still coursed through every inch of her, through her tired muscles and through her prickling skin and into her toes and fingertips. It radiated from that spot deep beneath her belly button and lower still, that spot so deep in her core that only Lexa's touch could ever reach. Every muscle in her body felt blissfully weak from the release and she let herself relax and melt into the contours of Lexa. And she sighed into the nape of Lexa's neck, trying to savor every sensation, trying to make it last.
The smooth stone beneath her was solid and cold against her bare skin, and she nuzzled even further into the softness and the warmth of the body beside her, wondering at how perfectly she seemed to fit into it. She was draped over, and woven between, and curled into, every curve and every gap and every soft edge of Lexa. And her cheek pressed into the delicate curve of Lexa's neck, her arm tucked between her breasts, her fingers resting along the ridge of her collarbone, her thigh and knee and shin all wedged gently between Lexa's, her ankle wrapped tightly around Lexa's as if attempting to forever link them... Everything felt right... So right. It was as if her body had been formed with Lexa's in mind. As if her body had been purposefully created to wrap around and under and into Lexa's. And she wondered how it was, after all these years of living in the awkward house of her torso and arms and legs, that she was only now realizing that her body was merely half of a whole and it was never designed to stand alone.
Lexa's long, graceful fingers were trembling slightly as she trailed them up and down the bumpy length of Clarke's spine.
"Lexa, you're shaking." Clarke whispered into Lexa's ear, snagging the soft furs of the lining of her cloak to pull it tighter around the pair of them. "Are you cold?"
"No." Lexa answered. "I mean, yes... A little... But that's not why I'm shaking."
Clarke let out a soft laugh, and Lexa shivered, and Clarke knew that it wasn't from the cold, but rather the caress of Clarke's warm breath along her earlobe. And Clarke snagged that earlobe gently between her teeth, nibbling through her smile, relishing her ability to make all of Lexa quake with something so simple as the tip of her tongue running along the curve of that tender piece of skin.
Lexa breathed something between a sigh and a whimper and Clarke knew that she was driving her crazy, pushing her until she was caught in that unbearable place in the in-between, the place of pure pleasure and absolute torture. And Clarke relished the power she had over Lexa. Lexa... the ferocious warrior, the Commander of the Clans, who was fearless even in the face of Death, but now trembled at the mere wetness of Clarke's tongue and the sharp nip of her teeth and the warmth of her breath. The feeling of power was intoxicating, addicting. But the toes wrapped around Clarke's ankle were curling and the shaky fingernails tracing her skin were now biting into her and Clarke knew Lexa's body was screaming for mercy.
So Clarke giggled softly into her ear one last time, watching the shiver course through Lexa, before receding back into the soft nape of Lexa's neck. She could feel Lexa's blood pulsing strong and rapid just beneath the skin against her cheek. And she pressed her ear to the spot and listened to Lexa's heart counting out the seconds. And she fought the urge to fall into a blissful sleep because she could not bear to miss a single beat.
And Clarke watched the fireflies dancing in the night around them, and through the droopy slits of her eyelids, they almost looked like shooting stars to her. And she thought to herself that if you could make a wish on a shooting star, maybe you could make a wish on a firefly too. So she closed her eyes... and she searched her soul. But after a moment, she just opened her eyes again. Because with Lexa's arms wrapped around her, with Lexa's skin warm and solid and real against hers, with Lexa's heartbeat steady in her ear, there was nothing left for Clarke to wish for.
"You know..." Lexa suddenly spoke, her voice as soft and fluid as the gentle gurgle of the tumbling stream beside them. She was staring into the darkness above, watching the dancing lights of the fireflies and the flicker of the actual stars beyond them. "When I was little, and the nightmares kept me from sleeping, I used to wake up Luna and drag her from the warmth of the covers out into the night. And she'd mope and groan as she stumbled along behind me, half asleep, tripping on logs and jagged rocks. And I'd pull her through the trees until I found a spot clear enough to see the sky above. And we'd lay on the cold forest floor and stare up at the stars. And always... Within minutes... I would hear her snoring grumpily beside me. But I would just stare and stare and stare until the sleep finally came for me too."
Lexa paused and Clarke didn't dare speak a word, because Lexa's voice in her ear was as soothing as the fingertips grazing her skin and she didn't want her to stop. And Clarke held her breath, waiting for the melody of Lexa's voice to drown out the silence, to fill the empty space between them with beauty once more.
"I used to feel trapped sometimes." Lexa continued and Clarke breathed again. "Like the walls were too tight around me, the ceiling too low. And when I felt like the whole world was closing in around me, the only thing that could make me feel safe again was the sky... The open, endless sky above me. During the day I wondered what it would be like to have wings... To be able to climb into the sky and have nothing but air above me and underneath me and all around me. And I would stare into the blue and white and gray and pretend to be a bird. I would pretend I wasn't trapped. I would pretend I was free."
"And at night... Even when the darkness closed in around me, I never felt trapped if I could see the moon and the stars. Because no matter how dark the sky grew, even when it was blacker than the paint on my face, darker than the emptiness in my chest... The moon and the stars never stopped shining. And I'd stare up at them and pretend I was one of them. I'd pretend I was full of light, not darkness. I'd pretend that there was hope inside."
"And I could never explain why, but I was always drawn to the sky. Like I was made to be a part of it. And... Clarke?"
Lexa paused and Clarke could feel Lexa's pulse drumming wildly in the hollow of her neck,even faster and stronger than before. "Yes?" Clarke whispered into the night.
She felt the ripple of Lexa's hard swallow. Lexa's chest was rising and falling rapidly beneath Clarke's arm. Lexa was terribly nervous. She opened her mouth to speak but all that escaped was a stutter.
"I... Clarke, you're... I..." Lexa stammered and Clarke smiled secretly into the shadow of Lexa's quivering chin, because her nervousness was absolutely adorable. And Clarke desperately wanted to hear what was making Lexa's heart beat against her ribs like a frantic, caged animal. But it seemed Lexa wasn't ready. She could not find the strength to speak it, to release the words that were eating at her insides like hot panic.
So Clarke opened her own mouth instead, giving Lexa a chance to breathe. A chance to find her courage.
"You know, when I was little," Clarke spoke. "And the nightmares kept ME from sleeping, I used to drag my dad out of bed. I used to pull him out of our compartment and down the cold, dark hallways until we found a window with a view of Earth in its pane. And my father would fall asleep with his back propped against the metal wall and his mouth hanging open and his fingers wrapped around mine. And I would just stare through the thick glass down at Earth, watching the glowing, swirling blues and greens and whites. And I would just stare and stare and stare until the sleep came for me too."
Clarke paused and felt Lexa swallow again. Lexa's chest wasn't rising and falling anymore. She was holding her breath. And Clarke knew she was too afraid to speak, lest Clarke stop talking. She knew Lexa was waiting for her voice to fill the silence.
"I used to feel trapped too." Clarke continued. "Trapped by metal walls and rooms and corridors. The Ark was surrounded by nothing but open space. But I could never get to it. It was always just beyond my reach, on the other side of the metal, on the other side of the glass. And when I felt like the metal was closing in around me, the only thing that made me feel safe was to look down on Earth. And I would pretend that I was down on the ground, surrounded by water and trees and dirt. And I would pretend I wasn't trapped. I would pretend I was free."
And I would imagine what it was like to stand on ground... Not clunky, rusting sheets of steel... But on ground, real ground... dirt and rocks and earth and stone. I imagined standing on soil that had been there for hundreds and hundreds of years before my feet fell upon it and that would still be there for hundreds of years after my footprints had long washed away. And I would pretend that I wasn't just drifting through empty space and nothingness. I would pretend that I was standing on ground that was steady and solid and constant beneath me, a place where I could plant my feet and take root until it felt like 'home.'"
"And I didn't know why, but I was always drawn to Earth... Like I was meant to be a part of it."
Clarke paused because her own pulse was racing beneath her skin now. And she swallowed because her own throat felt dry and her tongue felt too big for her mouth. And she knew what she wanted to say, but she was having trouble breathing. And she wanted Lexa to speak again so she could have a chance to breathe. So she could have a chance to find her courage.
"Clarke..." Lexa whispered, her voice shaky, but determined. And Clarke held her breath, because she could not bear to miss a word. "You're my sky, Clarke... You are my freedom and my hope... You are my sky."
This line wasn't stupid... Not even a little bit. And at Lexa's words, Clarke found her courage. "Lexa... You're my Earth. You are my freedom and my solid, steady ground, and my home."
And Clarke wasn't sure if the air that filled the hollow between them was her own sigh or Lexa's. Because they fit so tightly, so perfectly that it was hard to tell where one girl ended and the other began. Because their bodies were always meant to join at the edges like the meeting between the sky and the Earth. And in the blur of darkness, when Sky wrapped itself around Earth, no one could ever say just where she ended and Earth began.
...
Clarke couldn't say if it was minutes or hours or days that they laid together on that bed of stone beneath a cloak lined on one side with fur and the other with darkness pierced only by fireflies and stars. It seemed like years. It seemed like seconds. Clarke had forgotten the world and time with it. For once, she wasn't Clarke the Fixer, or Clarke the Broken Mess, or Clarke the Stubborn Woman on a Mission. For once, she was just Clarke. Clarke, the girl who was just a girl. And she had just let herself simply BE, until she became nothing but a part of the beautiful mess of tangled limbs and skin, of quiet breaths and steady heartbeats and tender touches, of sighs and giggles and stupid, silly grins.
It seemed like years and it seemed like seconds.
And Clarke never wanted to detangle herself from this beautiful mess. But the black sky above her was suddenly alive with color. Swirls of scarlet and sapphire green and royal blue all danced with each other, shimmering against the blackness. The colors mingled and separated, disappeared and reappeared, flashing and screaming for Clarke's attention.
Lexa pulled herself apart from Clarke and it was all Clarke could do to keep herself from following her, clinging to her as she propped herself onto her elbows beside Clarke. Lexa looked thoughtfully up at the dancing colors then cocked a curious smile at Clarke as if it was not the beautiful, mysterious sky, but rather Clarke that impressed and intrigued her.
"For me," She spoke. "It was always a flock of sparrows in the sky, diving and rising, rippling and swirling, separating and coming back together... Chattering and calling out to one another as they chased each other through the air. I never thought I would see something more beautiful or mesmerizing than those birds... But that was before I met you."
"It IS beautiful." Clarke agreed, watching the colors swirl, even as the red gave way to rose and the blue turned to silver and the green became gold.
Lexa laughed and flashed Clarke a mischievous, cocky smirk. "I wasn't talking about the sky, Clarke."
"You're such a cheeseball, Lexa." Clarke joined her laughter, giving her a playful push on the shoulder.
"No... I'm just a romantic." Lexa said, matter-of-factly. "And if I'm cheesy, it's entirely your fault for bringing it out in me."
"Alright, I'll take the blame." Clarke laughed. "I've always loved cheese."
She turned her eyes back to the sky. "What does it mean, Lexa?"
"I think someone is calling you... Calling you back."
"Do I have to go back?"
Lexa just smiled and leaned into Clarke to plant a small kiss on her forehead. And Clarke closed her eyes at the simple tenderness of it and when she opened them again, she jumped at the sight of Raven kneeling before her.
"Clarke! Clarke! Are you OK?"
"I'm fine, Raven." Clarke answered, clutching her chest and trying to steady her breathing. "You just scared the crap out of me."
"I scared the crap out of YOU? You're the one who's been unconscious this whole time."
"Oh no." Clarke said, not knowing whether to laugh or blush. "What happened this time? Did I try to kiss you again?"
"No. Thankfully, this time you skipped all the theatrics and just fast-forwarded from the convulsing straight to the going limp and promptly crumpling to the ground part."
Clarke let out a sigh of relief, because she and Lexa had done a whole lot more than just kissing.
"How long have I been out?" She asked.
"Bout five minutes. How do you feel?"
"Five minutes?" Clarke gasped, unable to believe the words. "Five minutes?"
"Yeah... Five minutes..." Raven repeated, impatiently. "How do you feel? Do you feel different?"
Clarke just blinked stupidly at her. Because she could not stop repeating the words to herself. Five minutes?
Raven stared at her with wide, expectant brown eyes. "Do you feel different?" She asked again. "Do you have any... sudden new knowledge... Or ideas, or anything? Do you have any clue how to get back to Lexa?"
Clarke just grinned, shaking her head at the wonder of it all. She pulled Raven into a hug because the happiness in her was too much for her to bear alone. Because, like pain, happiness was designed to be shared. "I already did, Raven. I already did."