#911 au.

[wearycrown]

@headstrongblake​ asked:   wherever you are, i'm coming, i swear.   meme.

          the thing is, clarke believes octavia. there's not a single fiber in her being that doesn't. because the brunette has always been the type of person to say something only if she means it, and there's not a promise that clarke can remember ever being broken. but that's what worries her, in this instance, if she's being honest. if the fog clogging her thoughts would just clear long enough, she'd say that, too. but the phone still feels a bit like a dream in her hand, and it's still unclear if she's hallucinating this entire conversation. how long had she been here? how long had she been missing?

          she doesn't know any of that, but she does know it's not safe. that she doesn't want the other woman here with her, even if that's exactly all that she wants.

          "t--tavi, no.."   the words slur more than she cares for, and they're barely audible, but she's pretty confident they actually came out finally. the sounds of her own voice seems to vibrate around in the space near her, forcing her to squeeze her eyes tighter than they already were. this conversation would be so much easier if she didn't feel like her head was going to explode at any moment.   "don't."   the ache gets stronger, but so does her voice, and she forces the next bit out between gritted teeth.   "not safe."

          and it's not. she remembers that much. remembers screeching tires, and streaks of yellow. remembers thinking how it was going to hurt, and the almost immediate darkness that overtook her mind. remembers the stabbing pain that felt like it was centered in her head, the dull throbbing ache that consumed the rest of her body. she can also still feel the way the seatbelt digs into her chest, how her jeep keeps swaying precariously. she doesn't want octavia anywhere near the mess she's found herself in.

          not that it seems to matter. the other woman is rambling on again, promising everything was going to be okay. that they were going to find clarke. her voice is decidedly more distant, though, and it takes what feels like forever to realize that it's because the phone has slipped out of her hand. a fleeting thought of, oh that's not good, flickers through before she finds herself lost once more in the sweet bliss of darkness.

[wearycrown]

@headstrongblake​ asked:   we're getting out of here. together. now.  /  meme.

          a soft chuckle leaves clarke's lips as she tilts her head back, eyes closing only momentarily. she knew she couldn't go to sleep, couldn't allow herself the relief that would come with unconsciousness. the rules of what to do with a concussion had been drilled into her brain long before she'd ever really considered being a doctor, and she wasn't about to go against the golden rule now. especially with octavia looking at her like that, desperation clear in her voice. the blonde doctor would do absolutely anything to keep the tears that she could see even from here from falling. so she only takes the moment, just one small one, before she's forcing blue eyes open and back to the other before her.

          "y'know,"   her voice is slow to come, words even slower, sluggishly putting together her sentence carefully.   "when i suggested spending more time together, this wasn't what i had in mind."   her lips twitch in a smile as she shifts slightly, trying her best to get comfortable against the hard floor. it was impossible, of course, because she could barely move without her entire body lighting up in pain. but whatever. she had to give herself some illusion of being in control  (  as if she had any control in the middle of a natural disaster; fuck california and its damn earthquakes  ). when the movement pulls a hiss between chapped lips, she finally halts, swallowing thickly as she leans against the wall again.   "i was thinking more like dinner. maybe even breakfast."

          although, after this, clarke knows she won't be going out for a while. activities that required walking or standing for any amount of time were going to be out of the question while she recovered: a twisted ankle and stab wound just didn't make good conditions for dates.   "oh, god. buck's gonna be insufferable."   wasn't it just the other day that she'd been so smug about not needing the bubble her father kept threatening him and octavia with? this would show her to be a brat. head tilts slightly when she hears a noise, turning just a bit more when another follows. voices. she was hearing voices. and..   "of fucking course,"   she groans, head tipping the other way, looking towards the brunette with wide  (  and slightly delirious  )  blue eyes.   "just leave me here."

          childish? maybe. but whatever! clarke doesn't want to deal with buck's smug face. or eddie's, for that matter. she's perfectly fine, chilling here on the hard floor, with a piece of broken wood sticking out of her abdomen. no rescue necessary!

[wearycrown]

@headstrongblake​ asked:   if you want to leave, you can. i'll remember you, though.  /  meme.

          it's not even the words, per se, that reach into clarke's chest and threaten to rip her heart out. it's the way they're said, the tone of octavia's voice. the way she just seems to accept that she's not worth sticking around for, that she just.. expects to be left. from what she's learned, from the little bits and pieces that the blonde has pieced together over the time she's known the other woman, it's not a bad assumption. it's something they need to address, properly, but right now was definitely not the time. not while octavia was hazy from pain medication, propped up only because clarke hadn't moved from where they'd settled on the couch. a mental note is made, a promise to herself to talk about it, before she puts all of her attention on the warm weight against her chest.

          "you're not getting rid of me that easy, octavia."   words are gentle, fingers lifting to run slowly through long dark strands. even if clarke hadn't promised buck she'd stay with the other woman, she knew that she wouldn't be going anywhere. after the bad call yesterday, and the questionable moment in the hospital where they'd been worried about internal damage, she knew there was no other place she'd rather be than right where she was: on the couch, with octavia laying basically on top of her, face pressed into her neck.   "not now, and not for a very long time, if i have anything to say about it."   a quick kiss is pressed to the crown of octavia's head, before she simply settles in deeper, allowing the weight and the warmth from the other to lull her into the quiet that presses in around them.