They Took Me, Take Me Back
I'm on FIRE BABY. This was a little idea that popped into my head. It's kind of a 'How Lexa could kinda leave the show but be able to come back 'cuz i'll die without her' sorta thing.
As per usual, I have no idea what I'm doing.
I just wing it. Hey, it got me through ghetto grade school ;)
Here it is! (No Bellamy hate this time! But there can be... if you want it.)
Clarke couldn't breathe, Clarke couldn't think and she swore her body was shutting down as she began to hyperventilate. This couldn't be happening, not now, not after they had finally beaten Mount Weather. Why her?! Why couldn't they take someone else? Anyone but her! Her breathing was frantic, and soon, she found her vision going dark, and the last thing she heard was her mother screaming her name as she black out, right there in the medical bay of the Ark.
The blonde didn't care, any relief from the pain in her chest and the searing guilt in her heart was a welcome gift, no matter how painful it may be in the end for her, or her loved ones.
If her 'loved ones' even loved her back at this point.
Clarke had raised her gun and her dagger, shouting in victory along with the rest of the Grounders that stood by her side. She had shot Cage in the chest, or so she had thought, and they had seemed to lose track of his body, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the fact that the battle had been won. The Mountain had fallen.
"Clarke!" Bellamy shouted, running up to the girl to bring her into a tight bear hug which she returned, relieved that her friend was alive.
"Bellamy!" Clarke breathed, laughing in relief. Their faces were incredibly close, and Clarke could see in Bellamy's eyes the one unanswered question. Kiss? Clarke pushed her friend away, that being enough of an answer for him as he nodded, still smiling brightly in victory. Clarke returned his smile, grateful that he understood her and let her be. He was a true friend.
But whatever moment the two friends had shared was ruined the moment Indra roared out Lexa's name.
Clarke whirled only to watch helplessly as Lexa pulled a red feathered dart from within her neck. Reaper drugs. A black feathered dart impaled her neck next, and she ripped it out, snarling ferally as she was surrounded by several Mountain Men that Clarke hadn't known had survived. They were all cured, and that made her anger greater. All of the cured had to die, because they willingly accepted the treatment as one of the 47 was tortured only fifteen feet from them.
None could help the Commander from where she stood, on a small cliff on the Mountain, where she had thrown Cage down so that Clarke could shoot him. Said bastard stood tall, his shoulder bleeding profusely as he smirked. None could even fire arrows or bullets, fearing hitting the Commander as she was continuously shot with darts that had various brightly colored feathered. Soon, Lexa dropped to her knees, and Grounders in the area roared, charging and leaping up the side of the cliff.
But by the time they reached the top, the Mountain Men, their president, and the Commander were gone. The rev of an engine could be heard, and something lifted off, only to disappear into the clouds.
Clarke let out a cry of rage, dropping to her knees as she called Lexa's name before letting a stream of expletives, both English and Trigedasleng alike, burst forth from her lips as tears welled in the corners of her eyes.
The look of acceptance in Lexa's eyes hurt her the most.
"Don't worry Clarke, death is not the end."
"Then be prepared to fight."
Lexa better be fighting dammit, because Clarke wasn't there to order her spirit to stay where it is.
Lexa groaned, slowly regaining consciousness. Her mind itself felt like sludge within her skull, making her head heavy. When the fog within her eyes receded, the pain came all at once like a tidal wave. Lexa snarled, feeling the searing little holes where thick darts had impaled her skin, infecting her with sleeping mixtures and that horrifying red drug that turned her men into Reapers. She had, to the best of her current limited knowledge, only been hit with one dose. Only one red-feathered dart. Thank god her father had once recovered. The only man ever to recover from the Reaper sickness before Clarke and the Skaikru came. When he had her with her mother, he passed on an immunity never seen before. But it would not protect Lexa forever.
She looked around her surroundings, and the snarl on her lips grew more wild when she noticed how her arms had been shackled with inch-thick chains that were bolted to the ceiling, forcing her into a slouched standing position as she hung there, toes touching the floor as her knees dangled only a foot above. Her wrists were raw and bleeding, but Lexa could not bring herself to care. She was so used to being in pain, physical and spiritual, that a bit of raw skin did nothing to her nerves.
The steel store at the edge of her concrete prison creaked open, revealing Cage, who strutted in with a smile on his lips even though his right shoulder was heavily bandaged over his stupid mouse grey suit. Lexa's snarl deepened and she growled at the former president. The drugs did have a slight affect on her, but at least she knew who she was, and why she was fighting.
Lexa repeated the mantra over and over as she was lashed with a leather whip one of her own people had created. She let not a single cry escape her chapped lips. She would not be weak, she would not break, she would not fall. She had to be strong, as such was her duty,
And as a needle pierced the skin of her neck, Lexa struggled, fighting to keep the red liquid from entering her bloodstream. She could not handle such a large dose and remain as Lexa.
Lexa's eyes darkened until the emerald became an almost black-green. She knew no Clarke. She knew one thing.
Lexa roared, yanking at her chains viciously. Cage took a step back, letting his guards step forward, guns at the ready, red lasers pointing at various spots on Lexa's body.
For Clarke? No. For survival.