Clexa One Shots

Sing your death song

By: smooth
The war is won.

It's a thought Clarke still can't wrap her head fully around even though she can smell the gunpowder on her skin and feel the dull pain of blades slicing through it and the burn of gas in her lungs. Even though she can hear the screams of the not quite dead yet and the crying of the people who have lost loved ones, and see her death sentence in their eyes.

The President is dead. Both of them actually. Her friends had asked her to have mercy on Dante because apparently his son and Dr Tsing were the ones using them as blood bags. She had looked at Lexa then, for an approval maybe, but there had been no bloodlust in the Commander's eyes when she cast them downwards, not saying anything. "Trust me", Clarke had asked her before the battle and she knew Lexa was doing just that.

Dante Wallace died fast and with little pain, contrary to the massacre that had been his son's doom. That was all Clarke could give him. And when she, mostly unconsciously, had muttered "Yu gonplei ste odon" under her breath, she'd pretended she didn't see her friends' shocked expressions or the small, barely there smile on Lexa's face.

Which reminds her, the war is won, the survivors are drawing off Mount Weather, carrying the dead and not fatally injured, while her mom and Jackson are tending to the ones that can't wait till home with the help of the Grounder healers. Families and best friends who've been separated, are crying and hugging with fierce desperation.

And Lexa's nowhere to be seen.

The thought's been nagging her for a while, in the back of her head, but she hadn't exactly paid attention to it at first because she was overwhelmed by everything and oh god, Jasper and Monty are alive, oh God, I'm so sorry for your son, Sergeant Miller, oh god, Bellamy, you're okay, you're okay and I didn't kill you. But now she suddenly feels somehow empty and hollow, like she's not quite sure what she's doing there and she sees Indra and Octavia nearby so she runs to them as fast as her hurting leg would let her.

"-tell nobody and especially not-" Indra's saying when Clarke suddenly claps their shoulders and pants almost desperately in their faces.

"Indra, where's Lexa?"

Octavia bows her head slightly and sets her jaw like she's still angry at Clarke, and she probably is. Indra turns to her with a cold expression.

"The Commander does not wish to be disturbed right now."

Clarke furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean? I have to talk to her."

Indra crosses her wrists in front of her body like a shield and raises her chin defiantly. "The Commander has ordered me not to disclose her location to anyone, least of all you."

This has Clarke gaping at the older warrior. Her palms start itching even though she knows she has no chance against Indra. She doesn't want to think whose side Octavia would take.

"She's injured, isn't she?" Clarke can't quite control the panic in her voice but that's her last concern right now. "Something's happened to her, she might be dying right now and you won't let me help her!"

The cold mask on Indra's face somehow cracks and for a moment she looks perplexed. Octavia raises one of her eyebrows. "I have been ordered-" The dark skinned woman starts again but without the same conviction and Clarke can't restrain herself, she hisses vehemently in her face.

"She might die and it would be your fault!"

Indra stiffens and clenches her jaw as if to remind herself not to lunge. Clarke knows that in every other situation she'd already be human sausage. The two of them stare at each other for a few seconds before Clarke feels Octavia's hand on her shoulder.

"Come with me."

Indra's pupils widen. "Second-" She growls warningly.

"You'll punish me for the disobedience later," Octavia tells her. "I promise."

To Clarke's amazement, the warrior doesn't try to stop them. They take the elevator to a floor she remembers as a weapon storage sector, one that Sky People and Grounders had made sure to ransack entirely. There isn't supposed to be anyone here but Octavia stops at the first door and nods curtly.

"She's in there." She then tries to get back in the elevator but Clarke grabs her elbow. Octavia breathes through her nose but doesn't pull back.

"Thank you," Clarke says quietly. Octavia nods again, without looking at her. "But why?"

The younger girl finally turns her head to meet her eyes. Clarke doesn't see as much hostility as she expected.

"Because she clearly isn't disposable," Octavia snorts a little and takes a deep breath. "So maybe there's still hope for you."

The fingers around her arm loosen their grip and she enters the elevator with sharp, fast steps. She doesn't look back again.

Clarke swallows her tears and bursts into the store.

It's a mess, ammunition racks and lockers either toppled over or propped unsteadily on each other, the inevitable smell of death and blood in the air. There's a rough blanket spread on one of the racks and she recognizes Nyko crouched over it with a rag in his hand.

Clarke can't help the gasp that escapes her throat. "Lexa."

The healer jumps to his feet and she hears the Commander's groan before she sees her face. "Naikou, pul em op," Lexa somehow sounds authoritative even though she's injured, maybe deadly, and Clarke doesn't need to speak Trigedasleng to understand the meaning of her words.

"No, I'm not leaving," She insists when the Grounder grabs her arm and starts to shove her back. "I can help her, Nyko, please let me at least see!"

He stops, clearly conflicted, and she takes advantage of it to push him forward slightly. "Let me see, okay?" She urges him quietly and his hold on her loosens enough for her to tear herself away and run to Lexa.

There's a big bullet wound between her ribs and the blood is oozing and soaking her linen undershirt. Lexa's pressing a rag to her skin but she's very weak and trembling and her whole face is a mix of war paint, blood and sweat.

She's dying.

"My people seem to have a great liking for disobeying me," Lexa breathes, then chuckles, then coughs some blood out.

"Why the hell didn't you let anyone take care of your wound?" Clarke didn't know she was crying until she sees a couple of tears fall on Lexa's heavily rising chest.

The Commander stares at the slightly wet spot for a while before her hazy eyes meet Clarke's.

"You would've seen. You would've remembered me weak."

The blonde's possessed by such sudden and sharp anger that she wants to smack Lexa's face. She settles for the next best thing and grabs her face harshly. The Commander's eyes widen and she winces painfully.

"Does this look like strength to you? Die even though you could've been saved, all because of your stupid pride?" She can hear Nyko behind her but Lexa breathes a quiet 'hod op' and he stops.

"I could not have asked for a better death," Lexa says and Clarke wants to yell at her until her throat bleeds raw. Or maybe kill her.

Instead she kisses her. With Lexa's blood on her lips and Nyko's eyes boring into her back, she kisses her like fighting. Lexa kisses back like she'd gladly lose.

"Don't you dare die on me," Clarke whispers angrily into her mouth and pretends she's not crying.

"Okay," Lexa smiles at her and pretends what she's saying is true.