clexa promts

Fix it

Titus wouldn't stop talking. He wouldn't fucking stop talking and Clarke just needed to think. She just needed some answers, but she was crying and shaking and pressing her hands into Lexa's stomach trying to remember what her mother had briefly taught her about gunshot wounds on the Ark, and Titus was talking and Lexa was whimpering and her heart was pounding so hard against her chest and the blood was rushing in her ears so loud that she thought she was going to be consumed by it all at any moment--

"Don't touch her!" Clarke growled as Titus moved towards the bleeding commander. "Don't!" She turned to Lexa and tried to calm her voice. "Hold on, Heda. Just hold on."

"Clarke, please," came Titus' cold voice, "this needs to be done. Let her go."

Clarke looked at the bald man with disgust and disbelief. "I won't! I'm going to fix this! Help me fix this!" She pleaded, beginning to panic once again when she turned back to Lexa and found her beginning to convulse against the blood Clarke knew was undoubtedly beginning to fill the her lungs.

"I have to stop this bleeding! She's bleeding to much, I--I need--" She wracked her brain trying desperately to think of a way to stop the bleeding. Her tears renewed when she thought of her mother and the Ark's medical bay and how easy this would all be if she just had--

Her eyes widened in realization. "I'll cauterize it! Yes! Go get the brand from the throne room!"

When Titus didn't move she felt the anger surge through her, painfully sparking under her skin as if it were trying to rip through her and attack the defiant fleimkepa. She looked behind him at Murphy who was standing there bewildered.

"Murphy, please. Run to the throne room. It's down the hall and to the right. There's a fireplace and an iron brand that sits in it. Grab it and bring it back here!"

The beaten skaikru exile looked at her like she was insane if she thought he was going to go running through the halls of Polis with the commander's guards stationed every few feet. He needn't have said any of that, though, Clarke read it clearly in his hesitant body language. She rolled her eyes and beckoned him over. "For fuck's sake," she heaved under her breath. "Ok, then come here. Come on, put pressure right here and don't move. Don't let her move either," she said, guiding Murphy's hands to Lexa's stomach.

"Clarke--" Lexa's voice was small and thin, trembling in pain or fear or exhaustion, Clarke didn't know.

"Shh, hold on. Just hold on," she assured, running her hand over the top of Lexa's head. She brought her hands to Murphy's and pressed on them. "Press hard, and don't ease up no matter what, ok?"

Murphy nodded quickly and swallowed nervously.

Clarke turned to Titus with violence in her eyes. "I swear to everything you hold holy if you do anything to hurt her or remove Murphy, I will end you." She didn't wait for a reply before she sprinted away and towards the throne room.

It took mere seconds, but she could tell something was wrong as soon as she re-entered the room. Titus was pacing menacingly behind Murphy and the boy was looking around frantically.

"What? What happened?" Clarke ran to Lexa's find to see her eyes closed and still. Too still.

"I-- I don't know what happened. I don't--she just--" Murphy stuttered.

"Ok, ok, just move. Go--go grab that bottle! You see it? Yeah, that one. Bring it here!" Murphy ran over with a bottle and thrust it into Clarke's outstretched hand. She ripped open Lexa's shirt, her tears renewed at the site of the spewing black blood. "Fuck," she gasped. "No, no, no. C'mon Lexa!"

Lexa's eyes fluttered and a small sigh escaped her lips letting Clarke know that she was still there. She was slipping, but she was still there. It was all the encouragement Clarke needed. She poured the bottle over her hands and then Lexa's stomach, earning a whimper from the commander's parted lips.