At any moment I feel as if I will wake up gasping for air, clawing at the sheets. I want to believe this is a dream, a nightmare. But I know better. This is reality. Footsteps lead out of the room, the heavy weight of a door creaking. Titus.
"Help me get her to the bed!" Clarke cries out. Without hesitating I snake my hands underneath her neck and back, helping Clarke carry her to the bed, placing her on the white furs. Lexa coughs, black flowing out of her mouth.
Clarke rips lexa's armor off and tears her shirt, assessing the damage. A stream of black runs to the floor quickly, too quick.
"I can fix this... I can fix this!" Clarke yells in frustration. "I need bandages!" She shouts to me as her hands hover over the mess and presses down. Lexa gasps as Clarke presses down harder, the black staining her hands.
"I will fix you; just stay with me." Clarke pleads. But she can't fix, and she knows it. This damage can't be undone. Deep down she knows it.
Clarke, the leader of the delinquents called the 100, the 100 that fell from the sky from space, down to earth to see if finally it was rein-habitable. And it was and has been. Clarke who lead the delinquents to a war against the ones already here. Clarke,who learned medicine and such from her mother Abby, the head medic for skaikru. Clarke, stubborn and smart which forms her into one of the best natural born leaders that any clan or survivor of the war has seen besides the commanders. Clarke, who has seen death and knows it well. She knows that Lexa can't be saved. She just can't believe it, and she needs to. lexa's last moments of her fight can't be of Clarke trying to save someone who can't be. But I can't tell Clarke that. She needs to understand it herself.
"When you are given a bullet wound patient what is the first step?" I ask. Clarke takes a deep breath.
"Access the damage and area," she responds, her voice trembling. Lexa looks over at me and she didn't need to say anything her eyes show understanding and realization, and then unexpectedly, gratitude. Gratitude that I'm making an effort to help Clarke figure out the inevitable. The inevitable that only she is blind off. I give a slight nod and continue.
"Where did the bullet hit? Any vital organs?" Clarke's breathing gets heavier.
"Yes it hit a vital organ..."
"What is your first step to fix or stabilize her?" I question calmly. Clarke stays quiet and shock registers on her face.
"No... No no!" Clarke screams in frustration. Quickly her anger morphs into grief and she lets out a sob so full of pain I can see it hurts Lexa as well. They rack her body, devoding her of oxygen which leaves her gasping for air as the tears stream down her face.
"There has to be another way!" Clarke screams in frustration. Her body slumps as if all the energy is sucked out of her as she lets out more sobs. She lets her head fall in defeat and the sound of pain and cries fill the room.
"Clarke," Lexa calls in barely a whisper. Clarke lifts her head and slowly removes her hands from the wound, cupping Lexa's face in her black hands, trembling.
"I'm sorry," Clarke sobs. "I'm so sorry."
"It's ok, there's nothing you can do now, nothing can stop fate Clarke," Lexa whispers. This makes Clarke sob harder, her body shaking violently.
YOU ARE READING
I Am The Last Nightblood (the 100)
FanfictionBased off of the popular CW science fiction action and adventure show, The 100. Verena: to fear, to respect. Verena, like her older sister Lexa, was born with black blood, known as nightblood, a blood that is rare and belonged to the first ever com...
