Couch Conversations
Lexa returns to Clarke’s apartment to the shower still running. She can’t help but smile to herself at how much Clarke seems to enjoy a long shower. She did too sometimes, the warm water falling rhythmically on her sore muscles did something to help heal her. She walks over to the kitchen and finds what she needs for her surprise.
She makes Clarke some of her famous hot coco, and puts the fries and chicken nuggets she grabbed from McDonalds on a plate on the coffee table. Lexa takes the liberty of leaning back and kicking her feet up on the couch as she waits for the younger girl after grabbing what seems to be Clarke’s favorite blanket from the corner of the room.
The brunette clicks sports center off as Clarke sulks back into the room. Shoulders slouched, head dipped slightly as she hides her nose in a worn over sized sweatshirt with NASA on the front over a pair of old sweatpants. Lexa watches in silence as if she will scare the blonde away as she makes her way timidly toward the couch. Clarke sits down and leans slightly into the brunette next to her. Lexa can feel the tension in Clarke’s body.
“I know Micky-D’s won’t make it better but I was hoping it’d help. I also made you some hot coco.” She rubs Clarke’s upper arm through the sweatshirt. “We can do whatever you’d like Clarke: watch a movie, sit and talk, sit and not talk. You name it, I’m here.”
The blonde only drops her head and bends over with her elbows on her knees. Lexa’s side already misses the warmth coming from Clarke’s body. The young surgeon mutters an apology into her hands as she cups her face; Lexa’s hand drawing slow circles on her back, the cotton soft against her palm. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Clarke. Not to yourself either. This stuff is tough.”
Clarke drops her hands from her face. Her blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail falling over her neck as she turns and meets Lexa’s green eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes bloodshot, face flush but streaks tinted red and puffy from the tears. “How can I make it hurt less? Lexa it hurts so bad I don’t want to breathe.”
Lexa’s stomach churns with an all too familiar grief of having someone die because of your failure. Or perceived failure, but perception is reality after all. The army taught her that much. It was blood you could never wipe from your hands no matter how hard you tried.
Lexa wasn't sure she wanted to. The ache in Clarke’s chest works its way into her own. As she thanks the nature of her work that she never really had time to process loss, to really feel it. It was less painful to move on, to pretend to have confronted it, to push it to the back to be dealt with later knowing that there would never really be time. She had bigger things to focus on. There were missions to be done and fights to be won. She couldn't afford to process it.
She had shed a few tears in the privacy of a shower when she was a young LT sure, but there was no one to see, no one to comfort her, she sure as hell couldn’t show her guys. Officers never cry in front of their people. Officers don’t get to grieve. You must take care of your people first and foremost.
She reaches down to pull the surgeon into her as she twists sideways into the couch. Clarke’s body heat warms Lexa as she curls into her. Sitting between Lexa’s legs as the brunette leans against the armrest of the couch. Sitting in silence as the blonde sniffles into Lexa’s shoulder torso quivering and the breath of sorrow shaking through her.
“I...I know it was a long shot but I… she should have lived. She was so full of life and positivity...She was just an amazing kid and I failed her.” Her head rests atop Lexa’s chest with the brunette’s nose and lips resting on the crown of the blonde curls.
Lexa’s callused hand runs over Clarke’s upper arm as the quivering settles. “Clarke...”
“Why is life so short? Why is it always the good ones?”
“That is a question I often ask myself. I wish I knew.”
Lexa holds the young surgeon fast to her chest. A bony shoulder pressed into her sternum and blonde curls tickling her chin. The silence settles over them a while as the ponder the question. Lexa in the sense of why hadn’t it been her yet, Clarke deeply wondering why her hands were not good enough. The shoulder presses further into the brunette as the other girl takes a long breath of the warm apartment air that holds a hint of a chocolate aroma. “So you made special hot chocolate? Any Chance that includes some kind of alcohol?”
“Sorry, just chocolaty goodness.” Alcohol is not going to help, trust me. “You want some food? I got it just incase. I know I can’t eat when I’m upset but I haven't gotten to take care of you yet so I didn’t really know... I want you to know that whatever it is, if there is ever anything bothering you, you can always tell me, Clarke. You don't need to be strong for me or anything. I want to be here for you too.”
“You got me McNuggets?” A smile shines in Clarke’s eyes as she considers the woman holding her. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.”
Clarke shoves a boot shaped piece of processed chicken into her mouth. “Sure.”
“There is even ice cream for later.” Lexa reaches for a nugget only to have her hand playfully slapped away as Clarke guards her food.
“Coffee?” The blonde asks through a mouthful of only lukewarm fries to a chuckling Lexa.
Another attempt at some food is successful as she wraps her arm around Clarke’s shoulder. The younger woman pulling the plate of food onto her lap as they lean back into the plush back of the couch. “Of course.”
Lexa’s curiosity gets the better of her as the two go on munching in silence. The paintings on the wall catching her attention with intricate detail of green forests and deep blue night skies. “You really like art, huh?”
“What?” She seems to snap Clarke from an empty stare at the blank television. “Oh, those.. I painted them a while back. Octavia hung them.”
“You painted those?”
“They aren’t my favorite, but I didn’t want to argue with O about it or explain why so I let it be.”
“What? Why not? They’re amazing Clarke.” The brunette responds before her brain can really catch up to what Clarke was saying. She didn't want to talk about it. Despite already asking Lexa felt bad for prying, that wasn't really fair.
“The one of the forest, it's a spot I used to go with my friends. There’s little animals in here for each of the group. The deer kind of hidden back there was Finn.”
“Was?”
“He died in a car accident about four years ago.” Lexa remains quiet in hope of drawing the story out of the blonde. A pang of guilt shoots through her for wanting to know so badly but Clarke starts talking soon enough. “Raven and I were riding with him on our way to Bellamy’s graduation from Quantico. A car came out of nowhere and t-boned us into a tree. It hit his side and Raven’s leg was pinched in the passenger's side by the crushed car. She was still responsive but bleeding a lot, Finn wasn’t and I could tell he was in bad shape.”
She takes another deep breath as she continues. “I had been in the back seat on the passenger's side so I was pretty much ok. The engine was smoking and I could smell something burning. I knew I shouldn’t move him but I had too, I pulled him out of the car to get to Raven. Once she was out I cut the seatbelt out and used it to tunicate her leg. Then I got the idiot who drove into us out and by the other two away from the cars.”
“The man and cut his forehead on the steering wheel so I did my best to make sure that wasn’t bleeding before I called 911. I kept checking on Raven and the other guy, I had to work on them because I knew Finn’s belly was distended likely from internal bleeding and he was unconscious. I started CPR as soon as I didn’t find a pulse but the other two were higher priority. I’d learned Triage in my paramedic training in college. As the paramedics were arriving Raven passed out and I started CPR on her instead because she had a better chance. I know it sounds bad but…”
“It doesn’t, Clarke. It sounds like you did everything you possibly could have.”
“When we got to the hospital they took Raven and Finn into surgery and stitched me and the other guy up. Raven messed up her leg and has some trouble with it now, but was fine mostly... Finn was brain dead.”
“He was in the hospital like that for a month. His advanced directive said to give him 30 days before pulling the plug, his organs were starting to fail though and they needed them for transplants. He wasn’t waking up. Brain dead is dead. You don’t come back from that. I turned off the machines and unhooked him from the vent. It was my fault anyway, I didn’t want some intern doing it. Octavia, Bellamy, and Gina watched and my mother comforted Raven.”
“Raven blamed me, which was fair. I took care of the other guy and stopped working on Finn to help her. The tunicate ended up damaging some her nerves which caused problems and I literally was the one to make him stop breathing and stop his heart. I was heart broken, so was she, but I lost two of my best friends. She hadn’t forgiven me until recently. I tried to go back home for residency after Med-School to try and fix things but it hurt too much and I couldn’t handle all of it so I came out here. ”
“Has it helped?”
“At first the change of scenery was good but it faded after a few weeks. I was running from other things too. My mother and my relationship was not the greatest after my father died and that was pretty much the last straw to say the least. I didn’t have the energy to pretend I was ok with her anymore after that.”
Lexa remains quiet as Clarke leans back into her, no words would make it ok. No apology would be worth anything. At least the “sorrys” never made her feel better. She just offered what comfort she could as her arms wrapped around the blonde and tried to absorb some of the pain. “I wish there were magic words to make it better.”
“You do make it better. When I started at the gas station the girl buying obscene amounts of ice distracted me, then when we started going for coffee it didn’t hurt as bad. I didn’t think I’d love again after..”
Lexa nearly chokes as she swallows. “Love?”
Clarke turns a shade of red as she pulls her hood around in front of her face. The apartment feels much cooler without the warm blonde pressed close up against her through her soft t-shirt. “You knew what I meant.”
“What about the painting of the stars? I like that one, kinda reminds me of you.” She takes a sip of the now cool hot chocolate. “Which makes sense now that I know you painted it.”
Clarke sighs and sinks further into her hoodie before finding some sort of resolve and leans back into Lexa. “I painted that one for my dad one year, he loved space. He was killed when I was in college. He worked for NASA and brought some data forward that was controversial or critical or something and was working on it at home. A few weeks later my dad turns up dead. They said it was an accident but stuff didn’t add up. Everyone knew he was killed when it came out later that this big company in Boston who was helping with NASA with was inherently evil. They helped fund Jaha’s campaign or something. Turns out my mother went to Jaha with it supposedly to confront him about it but she got my dad killed and tried to hide that from me. I tried to forgive her. I did. But when Finn died and she suggested that it was somehow my fault after only getting the story from Raven, I was done. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. He was my best friend. I miss him so much.”
“I know how you feel at least a little bit. My dad and I were close as well.”
“It doesn’t really stop hurting does it?”
“I’m not sure I want it too.”
“What do you think happens, you know, when we die? I don't know what scares me more, the thought of ceasing to exist or that we could go on like this forever…”
“It doesn't really matter what I believe Clark, what do you believe?”
“I don't know what I think.” I bet you do.
“It is in my opinion that life continues in some way.”
“But how?”
“Look I have to believe that there is something bigger, some kind of peace after all this. It wouldn't be worth it if we just stopped existing but that's just what I believe. And how fucked up is it if all of this just happened by some accident, if people suffered and died for nothing...”
“What would you die for?”
“Someone at West Point told me the most important thing someone could know is what they would die for. I disagree, I’d die for lots of things. My country, my friends. I'd like to think I'd die for a perfect stranger, or for someone I didn't like. I don't think values can be tested by what you'd die for… it's much more powerful to live for something, to dedicate your life to something. It's harder. Dieing is the easy part.”
“Is that why you aren’t afraid to die?” Lexa looks at her with her head cocked to the side asking when that was she had mentioned that. It’s not something she often talks about. “You mentioned it when you were drunk that one night.” Shit.
“Oh...Part of it, yes. The other part I guess is if it's me then someone else might get a little more time. I think about it often and question it a lot, and I mean a lot, but deep down I know I've done my best. It's not a big deal for me.”
“I don't like you talking about your death.” Clarke strains upward digging her elbow accidentally into Lexa’s stomach to place a gentle kiss on her cheek before she relaxes again against the brunette. “It does scare me a little. I have a lot of questions. But mainly what if I didn't do enough? Will it hurt? It seems like it hurts. I don't know. Just lots of questions.”
“Pain shouldn't scare you, pain all ends one way or another.”
“What does scare you then little miss brave-heart? Snakes? Heights? Spiders?” Clarke trills her fingers over Lexa’s arm as she lets out a small laugh in attempt to lighten the mood. Sometimes hard topics make Lexa laugh too. A lot actually if she thinks about it. Her and her buddies have a pretty dark sense of humor now… It helps.
“It’s not that I am without fear, I just generally don't care to allow it to stop what I'm doing. Or the way pain scares you, I’ve had so much of it, I’ve almost died so many times it isn’t a big deal for me. There isn’t much else that can happen, honestly, if if it does I’m not worried. You just have to embrace it I guess, take your mind somewhere else. Death isn’t the part that hurts anyway.”
“You didn’t answer the question.” Probably because I’m avoiding it.
“When I was younger was afraid I'd end up alone, but I got comfortable by myself. It was easier with being away and with everything going on. It meant I wouldn't cause anyone else pain, or that I wouldn't have someone to worry about back home. But now.. I have you.”
“Now you have me. You still didn't answer though, there’s gotta be something you're afraid of. Like heights, I hate heights.”
“I mean, it makes sense.. You did fall from the stars.”
Clarke snorts as she leans into Lexa with her shoulder. “That was pretty bad.”
Lexa chuckles, ribs a little sore from the constant press of the blonde into them. “It was wasn’t it.” The younger girl steals a chaste kiss. “True though.”
“Dork.” Blonde curls return to tickling just below Lexa’s chin as Clarke finds her pillow again. “You’re avoiding the question.”
Lexa takes a deep breath and steels herself against the armrest at her back trying to find the courage to tell Clarke. “Intimacy terrifies me. As does inadequacy, but intimacy… it stops me in my tracks. It makes my heart pound in my ears, my mouth go dry. It makes my chest tighten in panic and my muscles coil to flee. How pathetic is it that I'd run toward a firefight but I freeze at even the idea of sharing something intimate… even handholding makes my heart race...”
“It's not pathetic, Lexa.” Clarke leans away from the brunette so she can look her in the eye. Lexa forces herself to breathe again at the ironically increasingly intimate nature of the situation. “What kind of intimacy?”
“This kind.” She closes her eyes and swallows past the lump in her throat. “All kinds. Physical. Emotional… I am absolutely terrified.” The bright green eyes open to the gentle smile of the woman sitting across from her on the couch, thigh touching Lexa’s knee anchoring her to something tangible.
“It’s ok.”Clarke leans in closer to her, really not doing much to help the situation but Lexa will admit that there is something magnetizing about her confession. Lexa finds her eyes shut again as she tries to calm the familiar pounding in her chest.
The blonde’s forehead rests against hers as a warm thumb rests on her cheek. Clarke’s palm bracing the side of her head softly willing Lexa’s eyes open again. “Being around you makes my stomach churn and my head spin. It steals the strength from my knees and makes my hands grow clammy just from thinking about it. It makes me weak.”
With such a closeness it seems that they share the same air only the volume of a whisper seems appropriate. “Love makes us stronger. It gives us something to hold on too. To fight for.”
“It’s irrational.” Gentle lips find her cheek just before she feels the warm weight of Clarke’s body leaning into her again. “It gives me something to lose. It makes me vulnerable.”
“I’d never hurt you, Lexa.” Clarke’s knuckles slide in between hers as their fingers intertwine. “I’m in this.”
“I know you wouldn’t ever mean too, but it’s still… I’m willing to bet that you’re still afraid of heights even if you’re strapped in, yeah?” Clarke nods in understanding. “There are just a lot of things that could happen.”
“The physical stuff, is it because of your time… Did they...”
“It always terrified me before that too. I’m being honest when I say I don’t remember much. I used to hate it but I’m glad now. I hope I never remember some parts. I don’t know if I could recover.” Lexa doesn't answer the question, not totally. They can talk about that a little later.
“What is it then?”
“I’m not sure. It is hard to put into words. Maybe because it is literally the most vulnerable position you could be in, I’m really not sure. You’re exposed and completely in the hands of the other person.. What if I don’t like it? What if I disappoint you? It just terrifies me, for no reason at all.”
“I’ve thought about it, with you.. It just makes me so afraid I push it to the side and that makes me feel terrible.” The brunette lets out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want to… for you. I know you want..” The blonde looks up at the crack in the woman’s voice and the movement of an arm from around her to the brunette’s face “but Clarke…”
A tear trickles down Lexa’s cheek as she’s caught somewhere between her fear and the idea of disappointing Clarke. The girl so ashamed she can’t even say what she’s talking about. The blonde’s thumb reappears on her cheek as it wipes away the tear in comfort. “It’s ok, Lexa.” Lexa starts shivering below the weight of the girl pressed into her at the idea that, no, it probably isn’t ok. “I promise. I know it's not personal. It’s human not to run head on into fear and I wouldn’t want you too with this.”
“You deserve so much better.”
The woman in Lexa’s arms shifts again and presses a short but firm kiss to her lips. “Don’t you ever say that again, you are amazing and we will tackle this together, I don’t care how long you need.”
The newly settled woman on Lexa’s chest, yet again lets out a small yawn. Lexa doesn't know what to say about the other stuff. “You should get some sleep. You’ve been up almost two and a half days.”
“Aiden’s party is tomorrow right?”
“Yeah, midmorning, but Clarke, sleep. Please.”
“Fine, but you’re sleeping with me. And in my bed. The couch isn’t good for your back and you know it.”
“Didn’t we just talk about my fear of sleeping with someone?” She tries to joke weakly at her own expense.
“Shut up. I sleep better when you’re with me.”
“I can deal with that.” The brunette smiles at Clarke’s confession as the blonde helps her from the couch. “I do too.” The two crawl under the soft blankets of Clarke’s mattress that seems to swallow Clarke in sleep the minute they sink into it. Lexa hardly gets out a good night before she follows the entirely too tired blonde into slumber.
Sometime into the early evening Lexa jolts awake. Her hair and shirt stuck to her clammy skin. Moments ago she was in a happy dream. Strangers enjoying life, a father pushing a stroller on a summer day. A young woman sitting in a lecture. A football player dancing around a locker room. A girl on a date. Slowly they started to fade away and Lexa found herself in a fiery darkness surrounded by explosions, screams, and rapid firing of a .50 cal. The individuals so happy moments ago now dead at her feet as she presses forward finding herself incapable of saving anyone.
The panting woman untangles herself from the covers Clarke had mostly stolen and swings her legs over the side of the bed. The par holding the mattress pressing into the arches of her feet as she leans with her knees bracing her elbows. She is completely unaware the stirring blonde behind her a moment as she tries to pull the images from her head and slow her breathing.
“Lexa?”
Snapped from her empty stare into the dark room she glances over her shoulder at a mess of golden waves and tired blue eyes looking up at her. “Huh?”
“What is it?” Lexa turns back around to rest her head in her hands. Clarke’s warmth now at her back as the mattress depresses behind her before she is wrapped in a sleepy hug. “Are you ok?”
“We're going to war.”
“Aren’t we at war?”
“Real war.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Peer on peer. Large scale.”
Clarke’s hand starts gently running between Lexa’s flexed shoulder blades as she grows more awake. Still slightly confused at how much larger scale war could get. This one has been going on for almost two generations. “How do you know?”
“I had a dream.” The brunette nods. "They come true usually. It’s been coming for a while now, Russia is going crazy. China has been playing a bunch of stupid games...”
“You’re not going to be able to go back to sleep are you?”
“It is not likely.” The blonde kisses the slope where her neck becomes her shoulder. She can feel her shoes pulling at her. Go run. Go work. You have to be ready. “Go back to sleep, Clarke.” I’m alright.
“We’ve been sleeping a while. I’ll make us some coffee and some food.”
“Clarke..” This was supposed to be me taking care of you .
“Nope. Come on. We can go back to sleep in a little while. It’s like 7:30 anyway. And we have ice cream.”
“You need sleep.”
A quiet gurgle from the direction of Clarke’s stomach fills the gap between arguments. “And food.” Lexa’s stomach rumbles in reply. “Or are you going to make me go in there by myself.”
“Fine.”