Lincoln stepped closer to the two girls, "Heda, if I may, I would like to take a look at Clarke, from a medical standpoint. I fear she is not well." He could see the worry in Lexa's eyes, but her concern for Clarke's well being eventually won out, "Fine. But she does not leave my sight. Understood?" Lincoln and Octavia both nodded and answered, "Sha, Heda."
Lincoln looked back at Octavia, "Tav, can you go get some water, bandages, and a change of clothes for when Clarke wakes up? I don't want you here for this first part." He said, knowing the first thing he had to do was check Clarke's body for cuts and scars. He watched her expression harden as she left the room with one last glace at her best friend.
He picked Clarke up in his arms and set her on the couch, glancing back at Lexa, who's eyes were watching his every move. "You may not wish to see this either, Heda." She only nodded, clenching her jaw. Lincoln sighed, turning back to Clarke, who, Octavia had told him, had passed out; probably from mental exhaustion. But he could tell that she was also physically exhausted; she most likely hadn't slept while Lexa was in a coma. He could also tell without checking that she hadn't been eating either.
Six days.
"Oh, Clarke," he sighed. "What?" Lexa asked, nervously. "Well, she hasn't been sleeping or eating. She passed out from exhaustion and is clearly malnourished. From what Octavia has told me, it's been five or six days since it you got hurt, and my guess is that that's when all this started." Lexa nodded, taking in this information.
The first place Lincoln checked were Clarke's wrists, he pushed up her sleeves to reveal the pale skin of her forearms. Thankfully, the skin was smooth and unharmed. He next checked her stomach, lifting the bottom of her shirt as he felt Lexa's gaze on his back. Once again, he found the skin to be unmarred. He glanced up at Lexa and she nodded. He sat by Clarke on the couch and lifted her upper body, leaning her against him as he pulled off her top completely, leaving the unconscious girl in her pants and the wrap that grounder females used to cover their chests. Her back was covered in scars, but they we all old and long past healed. Both Lincoln and Lexa let out breathes they hadn't realized that they had been holding.
"Check the rest." Octavia said, voice and face devoid of any emotion. Lincoln's head whipped around to find Octavia standing by the door with her jaw clenched and her expression stony. He hadn't heard her return. "Octavia, who would-" "I know her. She wouldn't do it anywhere someone could see or would think to look. It would be nowhere visible. So. Check. The. Rest."
Lincoln turned to Lexa, waiting for her to give permission. He wouldn't dare to move further without her consent. She nodded.
Lincoln laid Clarke's head back on the couch, standing. He carefully took her pants off of her and once she was stripped, he inspected every inch of her legs. He sucked in a sharp breath as Octavia came towards her friend. There. They lay new and freshly healed against her pale skin. Their jagged lines against her smooth skin was shocking. Her body was crossed in scars, long healed from battles fought on the ground and in the sky, but these were pink and shiny. Ten beside her right hip and six on the inside of her left thigh.
"How many?" Lexa asked from the bed. Octavia shook her head, backing away, "Too many." Lincoln answered quietly, "A group of ten and another group of six... but I can almost guarantee that by the end of today...there would have been seven." Lexa didn't respond as tears fell from her eyes against her will. Not her Clarke.
Octavia stood up and crossed the room to one of the tables, itching to release some of her emotions. It was covered in maps. Perfect, she thought, as she swiftly kicked it, sending it flipping and crashing into the wall behind it. "Octavia!" Lincoln snapped, standing. She continued towards it, her anger pushing her forward, when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She was turned and was pulled into a chest. But she didn't want comfort. She wanted a fight.
Lincoln let Octavia continue to attack him, her punches hard and deliberate, wanting to inflict pain. He let her keep landing blows on him until tears started to spill from her eyes. He caught her fist in his hands and held her by the waist as she fought against his hold, eventually breaking down in his arms. He pulled her even closer and kept and arm around her waist while the other stroked her hair. "Shh, ai hodnes. Em na ste ait. Em ste yuj." (Shh, my love. She will be alright. She is strong.) Octavia nodded and pressed her forehead against Lincoln's. She clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to stop.
Lincoln sent Octavia to a room further down the hall, telling her he would meet her in a minute. He carefully put the fresh clothes on Clarke, cleaning her wounds and applying a salve to help with scarring. He lifted her up and placed her next to Lexa, who he would have comforted if her knew how. She nodded to him as he left, her voice thick, "Mochof, Linkon." (Thank you, Lincoln.)
*AN* Well, here's another one. It's kinda sad and I was upset writing it...it kinda reminds me of some stuff going on. Idk it's an okay chapter.
What did you guys think?
Until next time,
"You can never cross the ocean unless you have to courage to lose sight of the shore."
-Christopher Columbus