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Separate Souls
By : Prophecy
Category: 1 through F > The 100
Views: 1171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own The 100 and make no money off this story.
Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 1
- 2
- 3
So I'm back to the velvet underground
Back to the floor that I love
To a room with some lace and paper flowers
Back to the gypsy that I was
To the gypsy that remains
Her face says freedom with a little fear
And if I was a child and the child was enough
Enough for me to love, enough to love
She is dancing away from you now
She was just a wish and her memory is all that is left for you now
You see your gypsy,
Goodness strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
I still see your bright eyes, bright eyes
And it all comes down to you
- Fleetwood Mac, ‘Gypsy’

“Absolutely not.” Anya’s arms were crossed, her eyes burning with rage. “Are you all out of your fucking minds? We don’t take charity!”

“I wasn’t asking your permission,” Lexa snapped, crossing her arms and squaring off with her mentor. She shot a dirty look in Echo’s direction. “You wouldn’t even know if someone wasn’t a nosy spying bitch with a big mouth!”

“Echo did the right thing. I won’t have you going and sucking up charity food at some bougie diner when all I do day and night is work to make sure everyone knows the Grounders can take care of themselves! It’s for your protection! I keep you all safe, and warm, and fed, and feared! And you want to ruin all of that so you can bang some skayon girl who probably just feels sorry for you?”

Lexa didn’t think; she launched her fist and the next thing she knew, she was rolling around in the dust with her mentor, both of them clawing at each other and crying out in anger. Everything else around them disappeared—Aden’s soft gasp, Octavia’s protective arm immediately encircling him and pulling him back from the mess, Echo’s mildly amused expression as she apparently enjoyed the show, Lincoln and Luna screaming at them to stop and trying to pull them apart.

Lexa fought hard, driving her fist into Anya’s kidney and flipping them over before Anya regained the upper hand and gave her what would surely be a black eye inside an hour. Lexa let out a frustrated cry and flipped them once again, this time aiming her fist at Anya’s sternum. She hit her, and hit her, and hit her until Luna and Lincoln both grabbed her arms and ripped her off Anya’s chest.

Lexa twisted and kicked in their grasp, but together they were too strong for her, and she wailed angrily, “Let me go, let GO of me!”

Luna snapped in her ear. “No! Not until you calm down.”

Lexa wrenched her arms, nearly popping her shoulders from the sockets, until she saw Anya sit up, shoving Echo’s help away and glaring at Lexa with a feral growl. “You, are no longer my second.”

Her words hit Lexa like an electric shock and all at once she went limp in Lincoln and Luna’s grasp. “N-no, Anya, I’m sorry, I ju—”

Anya pulled herself off the ground, her face dark with rage as she spat blood to the floor at Lexa’s feet. “Get. Out.”

Lexa watched with wide eyes and felt hot tears stinging her eyes. “No, Heda, please. I don’t know what came over me..”

“I don’t care!” Anya snarled, her disappointment and embarrassment clear on her face. “All of you, just—just get out of here.”

Lexa’s body slumped as Luna slid her arm around her, guiding her towards the mouth of the overpass with Lincoln and Octavia escorting Aden closely behind. Echo made a move towards Anya, who snarled something incoherently at her as well, and she seemed to be in shock as she looked around helplessly before following the others slowly.

Lexa had managed to cry off her mark a few blocks before the diner. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually cried. Crying was weakness, and she’d known that long before Anya taught her.

They were sitting in a small drainage ditch behind what used to be a Blockbuster Video, where Lexa had stopped to throw up and then refused to walk further. Her hands were still stained with the blood she’d drawn from Anya, and the darkness in her heart felt like it was expanding throughout her entire body. She stared at her hands, shaking a little, her voice cracking.

“What did I do?”

Luna and Lincoln were sitting on either side of her, trying to reassure her, but she barely heard their voices through her shocked haze. Echo sat with them, her face painted with guilt, holding Aden on her lap. Aden, too, had been crying, and it twisted the metaphorical dagger in Lexa’s gut that on top of everything, she’d ruined his Conclave as well.

It was Echo’s voice that finally broke her reverie. It was soft and shaky, and she unconsciously held Aden a little tighter against her chest as she spoke. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this would—I thought she would just talk you guys out of it.”

Luna looked up at her quietly, her voice gentle as ever. “You were trying to protect us all. Nobody blames you, Echo.”

Echo clearly didn’t buy that, and Lexa shook her head a moment, trying to clear it, her voice hoarse but not unkind when she responded. “Luna is right. I made a stupid call, and you tried to help. I just wanted..”

Octavia was sitting a bit lower in the ditch, her back to them as she fiddled with her works, her hands shaking lightly. Lincoln glanced up to her and then at Luna unsurely.

Luna nodded, and Lexa pushed his arm lightly, her voice quiet. “Go. It’s okay.”

Lincoln swallowed and let go, sliding down the ditch until he was next to Octavia, wrapping his arms around her for a moment and kissing the top of her head before taking over for her, trying not to look at the old track scars on his own arms as he did.

The gentle waves of ash that extended across Luna’s face seemed to soften it even further as she put her arm around Lexa’s shoulders. “How about we fix your mark? Or would you rather..” She cleared her throat. “Would you rather wash it off the rest of the way?”

“No,” Lexa said quickly, startling even herself. “Please fix it.”

Luna nodded, looking a bit proud as she slid a satchel of ash from one of the many pockets on her cargo pants and gently began reapplying Lexa’s mark for her. A few feet away, Echo was helping Aden do the same.

“Won’t Heda be mad?” He asked nervously, biting his lip.

Echo’s voice was kind but firm. “Anya may be Heda, but oso ste laik Grounders, with or without her. It is not up to her to decide for all of us; it never was.” Aden smiled a little and closed his eyes as Echo carefully used her fingertip to draw the muted stars out exactly as they were on his arm.

When Lexa and Aden’s marks had been put into place and Octavia was relaxed once more and leaning dreamily on Lincoln, the group slowly got to their feet and began walking slowly towards the diner once more.

People stared; that was a given.

After all, a group of dirty kids in tattered clothing wearing ash in warpaint patterns across their faces had just entered an incredibly clean 50s-style diner and were standing awkwardly near the counter.

Aden was all but hiding behind Echo while Octavia leaned tiredly on Lincoln, and Lexa felt the knot in her stomach getting tighter and tighter as she glanced around. What was she doing? They didn’t belong here, that was becoming even more clear.

Lexa was just about to push them all back out the door and never look back, when Clarke appeared from behind the counter and bounded over to them with a huge grin. “You made it!”

Lexa’s knees grew wobbly. Clarke was even hotter than she’d remembered her being just a few short hours ago. Piercing blue eyes that made a connection with her own and didn’t let go as she waved them inside and past the serving counter. “Come on, come on. We’re back here.”

Much to Lexa’s surprise, Clarke grabbed her suddenly very clammy hand and pulled her behind her. The others followed in a daze as she led them past the chrome tables and past the kitchen doors into a large room that was empty but for some folding tables and chairs.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” said a dark-haired girl that popped up from seemingly out of nowhere once they had entered. “We’re renovating back here, so we can have like, wedding receptions and birthday parties and meetings and stuff. Usually we just hang out back here and play better music and don’t have to listen to a bunch of screaming kids and cranky parents! I didn’t know how many people you’d be bringing, so if there’s not enough chairs, we have more out back, and I—”

Clarke rolled her eyes and tugged Lexa to her side. “Guys, this is Raven, my best friend, and a serious caffeine addict. I’d apologize for her behavior, but she’s only got a little bit of blood in her Red Bull stream, so she’s almost always like this.”

Lexa forced herself to focus on something besides Clarke’s hand in hers. “It’s really nice of you to invite us here, Raven.”

Raven waved her off. “Any friend of Clarke’s date is a friend of mine.”

Date? Lexa couldn’t help it. All the troublesome thoughts in her head flew out the window and she felt a stupid smile crossing her face.

“Well, thank you. Uh—this is Lincoln, Octavia, Luna, Echo, and Aden.”

Clarke was still holding her hand as everyone greeted one another, and Lexa used her free hand to nudge Aden lightly when she realized he was staring at a metal brace on Raven’s leg she hadn’t noticed before.

“Don’t stare, Aden. It’s rude,” she hissed out the corner of her mouth.

Raven’s bubbly smile never faltered. “Oh, no, it’s okay. It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? My dad actually custom made it for me, ‘cause all the ones we tried were hella uncomfortable. So this is a one-of-a-kind, Jacapo Sinclair original, no other one like it in the world.”

“You’re too kind, Rae.” A handsome, dark-skinned older man came in from the kitchen and gave her a gentle squeeze on her shoulders. “Well, what do we have here? Have you two actually resorted to hiring people to convince me you’re trying to make new friends now?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “This is Clarke’s date, Lexa, and Lexa’s.. Lexa’s, uh..” She faltered awkwardly, a blush spreading quickly across her pretty face.

“You kids and your slang. What an interesting name for ‘Family’, don’t you think, Clarke?”

Lexa smiled; she liked him already. “Mr. Sinclair, thi—”

“Just Sinclair is okay. Or Pops, if you want. Pretty much everyone calls me Pops around here.”

Aden surprised everyone—probably himself most of all—when he volunteered from behind Echo’s hip, “I used to call my dad Pops.”

Clarke looked over at him and let go of Lexa’s hand to kneel to his height. “Me, too. My dad died a few years ago, though.”

Aden came out from his hiding place then, and gently rested his hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “My dad died, too. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Clarke smiled kindly and returned the gesture, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry for yours, too.”

Sinclair clapped his hands together, taking in their motley crew, and smiled widely. “Let’s get all of you fed, yeah? Milkshakes and burgers all around?”

They all nodded shyly, offering thanks as their tight protective clump slowly began loosening up as they got more comfortable.

“Aden, is it?” Sinclair said, kneeling down as Clarke had. “Would you like something to snack on in the meantime? I make some mean mozzarella sticks, you know. I’d be a little insulted if nobody wanted any..”

Aden offered him a wide smile and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“World famous Sinclair Stix coming right up,” he nodded and started back towards the kitchen, pausing to regard his daughter. “And Raven, try to keep the volume somewhere below totally deafening, would you?”

“No promises,” she sassed, turning the boom box on the shelf on and wiggling her eyebrows a little.

Clarke led Lexa to one of the tables, which had a small cluster of candles in the center that Lexa hadn’t noticed before, and they both sat nervously.

Lexa cleared her throat a little. “Raven and her dad are very nice.”

Clarke nodded. “Rae’s been my best friend since we were kids. Sinclair’s not really her dad, but her mom died when we were in fifth grade. She was on her own for awhile, and Sinclair was our teacher. When he found out she was sleeping in the park, he went out looking for her all night and brought her home, and she never left.”

Lexa swallowed her emotions back, but her voice was soft and sad anyway. “That’s really great. That he did that. I wish..” Clarke watched her with a solemn face, but said nothing, waiting for her to continue. Lexa shifted uncomfortably. “I was going to say that I wish someone had taken me in, saved me, too. But someone did. And I—I thanked them by hurting them today.”

“Sometimes we hurt people we care about without meaning to,” Clarke said softly. “I hurt my mom a lot after my dad died. I blamed her for it, but it wasn’t really her fault.”

Lexa’s voice was very quiet and tense as she ran her finger slowly through the dancing flame of the candle closest to her. “I really hurt her. With my hands. I didn’t mean to, I just..”

Clarke reached across the table and took her hand in both of hers, cupping it gently; holding it like Lexa was something precious and fragile to be both protected and worshipped. “She’ll forgive you.”

Lexa’s eyes met hers, her lip trembling a little. “You don’t know her.”

“No, I don’t. But I can’t imagine anyone not forgiving you for anything. You’re so..” She trailed off, her cheeks blushing rapidly.

“Y—you don’t really know me either. I’m not a good person, I don’t do good things.”

Clarke leaned forward a little, her fingertip circling one of Lexa’s knuckles slowly. “I feel like I know you, though. Is that weird? It doesn’t feel weird, but I probably sound crazy.”

Lexa swallowed hard and shook her head a little. “Is it weird that it doesn’t sound weird?”

Clarke shook her head as well. “You do good things, too. I can only imagine what it must have taken to violate Grounder code to come here. But you did it, and all of these people followed you here. They trust you.”

Lexa’s eyes flashed a little, stunned. “Grounder? How..”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I’ve lived in this town my entire life. You think I don’t know a grounder when I see one?” She motioned across her eyes, her other hand still holding onto Lexa’s, and Lexa sighed. Of course Clarke knew. Who else walked around wearing war paint and hanging out at the food pantry? “I’m guessing the person you hurt, the one that saved you, was Anya? They call her the Commander, right?”

Lexa nodded, another wave of guilt crashing down on her. “She didn’t want you to come here. Charity is a big no-no, that’s why you guys were looking over your shoulders at the pantry, why Grounders never come to the shelter or panhandle.”

Lexa felt suddenly uncomfortable and pulled her hand back reluctantly. “Are we like, under surveillance or something?”

Clarke looked mildly stung, but wiped the look off her face quickly. “My mom is a doctor, down at the free clinic. She started it, actually, after my dad died. She’s treated a lot of Grounders over the years, and she talks about it a lot. I mean, not like, private stuff. Just about how homeless kids face different kinds of illnesses and how you really have to look for things most doctors wouldn’t look for in young kids coming into a regular practice.”

Lexa nodded slowly, taking it in. No wonder Clarke was so involved in volunteer work, if her mother ran the clinic. Something clicked in her head. “Your mom is Abby, isn’t she? Dr. Griffin.” Clarke nodded a little, glancing at their hands that we’re no longer linked together. “She’s really nice. I had pneumonia last year at Christmas, and she let me sleep at the clinic for a few days so she could give me the IV antibiotics instead of pills.”

Clarke smiled slowly, unconsciously reaching for her hand again. “I remember that. I mean, not by name or anything, but she told me she had a very sick girl down there. Actually, what I heard was that she had to practically strap you to the bed to get you to stay. That you were stubborn enough to give me a run for my money, I think, was the actual phrase she used.”

Lexa laughed—an actual, honest-to-goodness belly laugh—and then looked shocked. She couldn’t remember the last ti—Actually, she could. It had been the last night she spent with Costia, tagging the walls of the underpass where they’d first met and drawing silly pictures of each other to celebrate their anniversary. Her throat contracted suddenly and turned the laugh into a choked sob at the end when the memory of Costia hit her heart.

Clarke watched her with gentle concern, rubbing the back of her hand. “You had a girlfriend then. She came to see you at the clinic.” Lexa just nodded, her tongue thick in her mouth and her throat too tight to speak. “Someone brought her in a few months after. With.. with a gunshot wound. My mom rode in the ambulance with her and assisted in the surgery. She remembered her, that she was.. sweet.”

“She was sweet. She was everything,” And with that, Lexa felt the tears bursting from behind her eyes, burning a path down her cheeks. She stood quickly, pulling her hand from Clarke’s and accidentally pushing past Sinclair as he entered from the kitchen, unable to even generate an apology as she headed through the diner proper, out the door, and ran down the street.

And ran, and ran, and ran..
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Separate Souls	By : Prophecy Category: 1 through F > The 100 Views: 1171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own The 100 and make no money off this story.

Separate Souls