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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 23:34:20 GMT
| READY TO RUN THROUGH HE HEAT OF THE SUN |
Lincoln understood. He understood why Clarke and Lexa disappeared before the missile hit and he understood why that was not their fault. This war was horrendous and everyone had their monsters out and ready to fight. It had changed everyone, and he watched as rumors flooded through the camp and Octavia fumed with anger—Clarke’s own mother knew as the weight of it was clear... Clarke didn’t get to pause though. The injured had been receiving care all day and night. Lincoln kept his distance with his gunshot wound packed with cloth. Clarke had to shoot him to get the assassin sent by the mountain. She had a good shot.
Slowly, Lincoln walked down into the pit that had since been cleared out and looked around for any supplies he could scavenge to tend to his shoulder. He wasn’t the best at keeping his wounds clean, but with one so close to his heart he knew he had to be careful. It was there he saw Clarke, sitting alone near the wreckage. His eyes narrowed for a moment, wondering if she wanted to be alone... He couldn’t imagine the guilt, but leaving her there seemed cruel. “Are you alright,” he asked softly as he sat beside her after a moment of hesitation. “You should be with the others... not out here alone. It isn’t safe”
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Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Mar 1, 2016 21:14:18 GMT
It smelled or maybe that was her imagination, but it felt like it smelled of burned flesh of something she could only describe as: Death. And this death was by her hand. Indirectly, but this was blood she couldn’t wash off, like her mother had said. This time she might not be able to wash it off. And this was perhaps the hardest. The Grounders kept together unless they needed someone to really tend to them. Her mother was probably stitching Kane back together, while she helped those less injured ones. Once that was done she dodged everyone, especially Lexa. She found herself a peaceful spot and sat down.
It was a mistake. She was alone with her thoughts. Those thoughts worried. Those thoughts were voices screaming in her head, rightfully blaming her for what happened. Rightfully so. She didn’t expect anyone to come to her when she sat there, but apparently someone decided to. Lincoln. Damn She should have gone to him. Made sure the wound she inflicted was properly taken care of. How could she have forgotten that? Clarke looked at the man next to her. He made a valid point, one she heard before. But she couldn’t go back, not right now. “I should have stopped this. I should have saved people. But I didn’t. I can’t go to the others right now.” She didn’t care if it wasn’t safe out here right now. It wasn’t safe anywhere at the moment. She couldn’t run from those people. “Why are you not with the others?”
@lincoln1
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 23:41:35 GMT
| READY TO RUN THROUGH HE HEAT OF THE SUN |
"I'm not sure," he said slowly with a frown. He didn't want to admit that he couldn't face his people who had lost so much. It was war, people died, people grieved but still he had trouble seeing it for himself. It was easier to focus on the silence here. "If you could have stopped it, you would have." He didn't mean by warning them. He didn't even mean by being there quicker to pull people out of the flames. There was nothing that she could do. Clarke was the commander of her people, whether she wanted to be or not-- and a way needed both her and their commander to work. They needed the alliance and that died with them... He understood that, but explaining how many lives they would save after this sacrifice seemed empty.
"You saved me," he noted gently as he looked over at her. She seemed weighed down-- but Clarke was just that kind of person. She wanted to help everybody no matter the cost, but she felt the price of each of those choices and had since the beginning. Lincoln knew he could tell her that it wasn't her fault till his last breath but it wouldn't do anything.
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