Pain turns to peace

[Clarke Griffin]

Lincoln

When Clarke was up adjusting the satellite dish, she saw the one thing she never wanted to see: A launching rocket. It could only be one: The one from Beccas lab. Their friends were leaving them behind. For a moment she looked down at the man she shared her life with now, the man who had put his hope into her and likewise. He was her home ow, her future. But the rocket flying through the sky signalled something for her. Not too long ago there was the fight about the nightblood solution. She wanted to inject herself with it, but Lincoln beat her to it. He was a nightblood now. He had a chance to survive it. Clarke did not. For Clarke, that rocket leaving earth equalled her death sentence. And not just hers. It was just days ago that she discovered it, by mere chance even. She hadn't been looking for it, she hadn't felt anything yet, but she was pregnant. And now she would die. She and their unborn child. A tear slipped down her cheek as she finished the dish, knowing really well, that he, too had that idea. She would die of radiation and he would be powerless to stop it, because while he taught her a lot, she couldn't teach him nearly enough about genetics to survive this. 

As she climbed down, she was not prepared to stop. Instead she grabbed his hand and ran, needing to save his life. She wanted him to have one more mission, one last bit of hope to hold on while living alone down here for five years. Five years would be bearable. Five years would be all it took. Or maybe Octavia would let him back into the bunker. He could be valuable there, helpfull. Her mom might be able to make nightblood for the others off him. They could help the earth grow again. And so she ran, ran to cheat death just for a few more minutes, to cheat death for him. For the first time in a long, long time, she wished she could actually be the commander of death, to command it not to take him. It was already taking her and their baby from him. Spare his life, death, she prayed silently, knowing in this future wasteland nothing could hear them.

Once in the lab, she collapsed onto her knees. She felt painful blisters on her face. She knew it was ARS, so acute, that she had mere minutes to live perhaps. And in these minutes, she had to get through to Lincoln. "Linc...." She said as she painfully turned to reach out for him, for his face. It felt more and more like she was losing the pain, like she was floating, her spirit just waiting to leave her body.  "You have to...survive...you have to find the livable land and...prepare it. Our friends might rely on it and....we...we love you so much. I l...I...love...you." She grew weaker by the moment, her eyes finally closing...and yet her breathing never stopped.

Over the course of two days she progressivly became stronger again, her heart beating steadier, breathing becoming stronger, the burns on her face healed even.

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

Seeing that rocket streaking across the sky made his blood turn to ice in his veins, made his heart drop down out of his stomach. Lincoln understood what it meant -- it meant that things were changing again. It meant that Clarke -  his Clarke - was going to die... and their unborn child.

And there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Heartache smothered him, choked him from the inside out, as she dragged him with her while she ran. He didn't try to stop her. It was useless to try. As useless as her running was. He was the nightblood, not her. No matter how fast or how far she ran, she couldn't escape death.

Lincoln, unable to stomach the idea of her risking her life, hadn't let her take the serum. He had taken it for her, doing so when her guard was down and she couldn't stop him... and now it was going to save his life, not hers. He hated himself for being so selfish. If only he had trusted her, if he hadn't of conspired to take it she would have been saved... she wouldn't have to die this day.

Lincoln knew what he did then was wrong but he couldn't risk loosing her, not after everything they had been through together, not after finally confessing their feelings and becoming intimate, dedicated, in love. He had needed her safe and sound; alive. And because of it he was the one to condemn her to death.

Her last words cut into him as easily as a dagger would have. He couldn't go on without her, couldn't live without her. Not for a day let alone five years. She had become his home, his world, and everything he did now revolved around her.

Without her he was a shell of himself, lost and alone -- broken. "I love you, Clarke." He said to her when her eyes fluttered shut. He wanted those to be his last words to her, wanted her to die knowing that she was adored and loved and the most important person to him now. "Yu gonplei ste odon."

And then he waited... waited for her to die. For two days he tended to her. Cleaning her burns and dressing them, murmuring softly to her, telling her stories. He knew that she wouldn't wake up. Clarke had told him the chances of her surviving were next to nothing. So he just waited...

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

Lincoln

Clarke dreamed. As she was dying - or so she thought - she was dreaming. She held a newborn in her arms, a precious mixture of her and Lincoln, the man she wanted to call her husband and in her mind she saw him as that already. What did a paper mean to them? Nothing. And in her dreams it was out of this world. They were a unit. Lincoln, her and their baby, their hope for the future. She wanted to stay in her dreams. She wanted to feel this precious soft baby in her arms, wanted to touch soft skin to her own, show the child a lush garden with more food than what they knew to do with, a night sky and tell it stories of generations before them. It was lovely. 

For days Clarke Griffin rung with death. In her mind her dream of the soft child switched with images of her past, mount weather, Lincolns face when she almost locked out the grounders, the tears in her eyes as she realized that she might be the bad guy now. The pain of losing Arkadia as a viable solution, mourning people as she made a list and included him for no other reason than love and the knowledge that he could...make babies, he was fertile. It broke her heart back then, but those were her nightmares. In these bad moments her fever spiked, sometimes she even thrased, other times her heart was close to ceasing to beat. Her body fought hard, but ultimately what made her win that fight after seven days of essentially dying, was not her own body. As her fever broke, one of natures miracles had happened. 

On the eigth day as the blondes heartbeat became stronger, eventually her eyes fluttered open. The lab remained unfocussed to her as confusion held her. A little bit of fever still remained but that would fade, too. Clarke looked around. She made out a sillhouette, a familiar one, one that she loved more than anything in her life. "L...Linc..." She croaked. She remembered, slowly, his last words to her, her last words to him. The radiation. It should have killed her. How could she possibly be alive? It couldn't be. Yet at the same time it seemed like it was. She was alive and he was here. Or was this yet another dream? If it was, it was a beautiful one. "Is ...death so beautiful that I get to spend afterlife with you?"

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

For minutes, hours, days, he waited for her to die. Lincoln never left her side for more then a few minutes. He took care of her, like any good husband took care of his wife. He cleaned and dressed her wounds daily, noting how each one seemed to be healing.

He washed her hair, brushing it, running his fingers through it when it needed comfort. He felt entirely alone without her; lost, broken again. Lincoln hadn't continue the work they had been doing prior to the missile launch, hadn't tried to contact those in space. He didn't have the heart for it.

He was focused on her.  One moment it seemed that she was healing, that she would survive, and then the next her body was seizing, her heart laboring and struggling to beat. One moment he thought she might survive and the next he was so certain she would die. It pained him more than words could express.

The back and forth, the constant what is and misleading hope. It was too much for him to bear some days. More than once Lincoln had found himself staring down at his beloved, entertaining thoughts of ending her suffering. He could end it quickly enough, he could give her the peace they had both fought so hard for.

And then he thought about the baby she was carrying... that she had been carrying. It was impossible for their unborn child to be able to survive. Lincoln wasn't as smart as Clarke but even he knew that. And knowing that tore him up as much as watching his wife suffering.

But no matter how many times her considered taking her life and ending her pain, he didn't. Because what if, against all odds, she was able to survive? And then one day as he paced, her fever broke and her eyes fluttered open to look around, to look for him. Her croaking voice calling his name startled him, had him rushing to her side.

"Clarke," her name escaped him in a relieved breath. He took her hand in his, the other cradling her cheek in his palm as he leaned down to her, resting his forehead to hers. Relief filled his broken heart, healing the cracks her suffering had caused him.

He felt that for the first time in days he could breath again. "If this is death, then we must be in heaven." He laughed, tears in his voice as he kissed her gently, letting the kiss convey his love to her.

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

     That was real. Him touching her, that was real, she felt his hand in hers, his other hand against her cheek and eventually his forehead against her as he told her they must be in heaven. But that was impossible. She could not be in heaven. Heaven did not accept a murderer like her. She tried, but she ever succeeded. Clarke smiled into the soft kiss he gave her. She still felt weak. She still felt like she could not get up, if she wanted to, her body shaking more than she could place a name on. But she could recover from it. If she survived ARS, then she could recover from this. And this was something she could do. She could heal. But the baby? She had to find out about the baby. She had to know if it was still alive. But her mind was faster than her body did: There was no way she survived this without nightblood.

     Clarke gently pushed on her husband - well she had no power behind it but she trusted him to move. She reached for a needle, shaking hands bringig it to her hand, her mind focussed on finding out if her suspicion was right. One prick and black blood trickled down her finger. She held it up to Lincoln, to show him that she, too, was a nightblood now, which meant that their baby was a nightblood, too. And it meant they had the chance that they both survived, she and the baby. Somehow she felt like it was that case. "The little one is a nightblood...it can be inherited." It can be inherited and their child inherited it. "It must have... sent stem cells into my system, making me a nightblood...It saved me." It saved her but hopefully at it's own expense. Clarke squeezed Lincolns hand as she looked around. She needed to find out if the baby was okay. "Linc...that machine over there, can you roll it over?"

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

Lincoln started to object when she pushed him away; he didn't want to leave her side yet, didn't want her to move yet when she was still so weak but he knew that nothing would stop her if it was what she wanted. Clarke was a woman all her own, not one to be coddled or controlled, so he moved back only slightly and watched as she pricked her fingers and showed him to trickle of black blood.

The baby was a natblida... it had made Clarke a natblida... he felt close to tears. His heart went soaring, filled to the brim with relief and happiness. His wife was alive... his family still together.

He leaned in to kiss her again, tasting her mouth just because he could, because he needed to. He needed to know this wasn't some cruel dream, that his mind wasn't betraying him. It wasn't. She was real. He remembered her taste, the feel of her lips under his, of her cheeks cupped in his hands.

It curled up inside him, filling his lungs and soul until she took over his life. Lincoln smiled at her, a strong hand coming to rest against her stomach. "We already owe so much to you, little one." He kissed her once last time and then was getting the machine she asked for.

He didn't yet understand why she wanted it or what it did but knew that somehow it would know if their children was healthy... it would know for certain if there child was alive. Lincoln went to her side, gently brushing the hair from her face as he looked into her eyes.

"You can do this one thing, and then you will rest. Do understand? You will rest because I cannot lose you again." She would need food, water, to regain her strength. And he would not let her overdo it. He had almost lost her once and he wasn't willing to go through that again.

OWL

[Clarke Griffin]

It was after the Mountain, that Lincoln and Clarke left together. Back then, he was, technically, still with Octavia. He left her. He left with her. They hadn't planned to end up together. Love was the furthest thing from their minds when they set out. Starting a family, especially together, was even further from their minds. But circumstances gave them opportunity and opportunity turned into something beautiful. In Lincoln, she found the loyalty and the pacifistic tendencies that kept her in check. With him she was a different person. He took so much of the weight off of her shoulders. She could relax around him.

And now here they were, they last people on the surface of the earth, with a baby on the way. If only the child survived. Clarke tasted so much in their kiss, but everything went to the background, because there was so much hope in it, hope that she had struggled to maintain for so long. He was her source of hope. With the renewed surge of hope, she looked at the ultrasound and took it. He would get his will, if their child was alive. If not, she would have to walk him through a gruesome procedure, that he would hate, but he would still perform it, because, as he said, he could not lose her.
"If our baby is dead, we will have to remove it. If it's dead we can't rest yet." She didn't want to explain it all. She hated the concept of it, if she was honest. It meant that their baby was decomposing inside her and it was poisoning her. But it was, sadly, the bitter truth of life.

She pulled her shirt up and started. Within a few moments - Clarke did know what she was doing - a flutter of a small heartbeat was heard, like the flutter of a hummingsbirds wings, accompanied by a slower, stronger one, Clarkes own. "There it is. That's the heartbeat. It's alive." She placed the tools back and simply lay back, intending to do exactly what he had asked of her: Rest.

Lincoln

[Lincoln]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Tag: Clarke Griffin

He hadn't known he had stopped breathing until she spoke those words. The breath was clean, pure; without burden, clear of the looming task of removing their unborn to safe her life. Lincoln had known what it would mean if the baby was dead, how it put her life in danger, and how it could not remain. He watched women in his village die from childbirth in horrible and excruciating ways that he would not allow Clarke to suffer through.

He would do the task, however impossible, however gruesome, if it was to help her. And then she had found the heartbeat, so soft, but strong, and he could not describe the weight that lifted from his shoulders. Clarke was alive. Their child was alive. No words could describe his elation or the guilt that she had to suffer through this because of his own selfishness. But that was in the past. What mattered now was that they were all here, together; alive.

He kissed her again, letting his love for her bleed into it. "Now rest, you and our little one need to regain strength" His voice was firm as he ensured she was comfortable where she lay. "I will bring you some soup and water."

OWL