Chapter Text
TW - Implied/Referenced Suicide/Slight depiction of, and just a general TW
Clarke’s POV
3 weeks after the accident.
“Can I get another one?” The blonde says softly.
Vodka is her choice of alcohol. It’s cheap, and fairly smooth until it hits your throat. That’s when the burn kicks in, but that’s her favorite part… the burn. She takes the shot slowly, letting it spend time in her esophagus so the sting can linger. It makes its way down into the warmth of her empty stomach, joining the 4 others she had just taken minutes before. Albeit she doesn’t quite enjoy the taste, the feeling is relieving. Thoughts begin to drift away, and so too her memory. She first feels it in her eyes, her vision begins to blur ever so slightly, and her lids begin to weigh, like someone’s trying to pull a set of blinds down. And with the lack of food the blonde ate throughout the day, the alcohol takes its course shortly after entering. Her head feels it next, weaning side to side ever so slightly, until finally, the little kick of dopamine disperses
The blonde glances away from the glass in front of her to find the bartender, and finds him finishing up with a woman at the end of the bar. He begins to walk over, yet Clarke’s eyes are drawn to something else entirely. The beautiful brunette at the end of the bar. Seemingly doing the same as her. Clarke looks for a moment, the woman’s eyes being the first thing she notices. A heavenly palette of hunter, forest, and bavarian green. She radiates confidence just by the way her eyes pin yours, and they never waver. Yet Clarke can sense sadness, and pain piercing through
The young man finally approaches Clarke and her eyes are snapped back to him, breaking her chain of thoughts
“Another Vodka, Clarke?”
“Yeah, thanks Murphy.”
The two met each other at college by sharing an Anatomy class freshman year. While Clarke loved it, Murphy ehhh, not so much. He bounced around classes seeing what he’d like but in the end he dropped out and ended up taking mixology classes to pursue bartending. He always says “It’s where the money’s at if you do it in the right places, and the women you meet aren’t bad either ;)”. The blonde internally chuckles at that knowing the luck John Murphy has with women. He would have a few hook-ups here and there, but when anything serious came along he always backed out
“So how are you holding up princess?” He says, breaking the few moments of silence.
She snickers at the nickname then cracks a small smile... Although she’s not sure why, she hates that nickname. Probably the 5 shots she’s already downed doing its job
“Fuck off, John”
He acts offended then returns the smile
“I’m good, I’m doing okay, yeah. Been real busy at work, flu season’s at its prime right now. Lots of hours. I’m doing good though. How are you?”
At first John smiles and nods along
“ You know princess, you are a really good liar.” He smirks and tilts his head slightly
The blonde’s hand, already grasped around the glass, freezes for a moment, then continues to draw near to her mouth
“Look I know how much Madi’s death has affected you, I just want you to know someone understands, and if you need to get anything off your chest you can always come and yell at me or something.” He says sincerely but also playfully.
The lone shot now joins the others as Clarke sets her empty glass down. She knew she couldn’t hide her emotions well, but she had hoped no one would mention the incident. Murphy only has good intentions but being reminded still tugs at her chest. It's not like she ever forgets anyways. Every-time she’s at her apartment she’s reminded of the body that laid cold on her bathroom floor. She sees her friend’s then effervescent rosy cheeks, now lifeless and blue. No matter the day, she’s always reminded that she couldn’t save her. Clarke appreciates Murphy though, she knows he’s not the lovey type so him saying that means a lot to her
“Thank you John, I really appreciate it, but I’m okay. Don’t worry about me, I’ve learned a lot from the cockroach ;) .” While not being able to bullshit well, she can damn sure mask it decently if needed.
“Hey, I take that nickname as a compliment, not many people have my cockroach-ish abilities.” He snickers and shrugs back. Murphy can tell the blonde rather not be pried, so he complies
She knows he sees through her bullshit again, and internally sighs, but she can’t bother to care at the moment. She just wants to get out of there and forget…
Being satisfied for the moment with the alcohol in her belly, she sloppily finds her way off of the grounder’s branded black and green stool
She smirks, placing a $50 down on the marble bar… “Your bar’s a little dirty, keep the rest to hire a better cleaner.” She pauses briefly… “Thank you, Murphy, for everything, not just the drinks.” She slurs with sincerity
The man at first returns a laugh
“No problem lightweight, you know where to find me, stay safe.” He throws his bar towel onto his shoulder, and reminds sincerely
And with a final nod goodbye, the blonde finds her way out of the grounders bar
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Clarke loves walking through the city, it clears her mind. She loves seeing the beautiful architecture spurred throughout the modernistic skyrises. She loves the beautiful lights, buildings, and nature spread throughout. Trikru city has an abundance of nature spread through their buildings, one of the few cities in Florida that actually lets nature have its space. She gets a mix of both manmade and nature here, which she both loves. The city inspires a lot of her artwork
Her mind flashes to different shades that she sees around her. Slate gray with charcoal black seen in the sky rises… Carmine, and brownish red with concrete white found in the brick architecture… Walnut and mocha brown with forest and hunter green found within the trees and nature
Slowly but surely, the brunette from the bar slowly seeps into her mind as she walks. She isn’t sure why, but something about her just captivates her. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman Clarke’s ever seen, she knows that for sure. The story the woman's eyes told intrigued her, she just wanted to know more. She wanted to get to know her
She physically shakes her head to rid the thoughts. Who was she kidding anyways, it was a random woman in a bar whom she’ll never see again
Finally stopping for a moment to collect her head, she finds herself approaching the beach. The view was stunning. The midnight sky fills the air, full of constellations, planets, and floating right above her, is the ARC (space station). The water rushes up the beach hastily, ocean and aegean blue crash together and create bundles of white foam. As quickly as it came, it calmly retreats back into its whole. The ocean is Clarke’s safeplace. She would always come here with her mom and dad, especially with her dad. He taught her how to surf, and while she doesn’t do it everyday like she used to as a kid, she does it when she can. Madi loved the water too, after Clarke’s father passed, her surfing expeditions oftentimes were done alongside her. She always encouraged Clarke with every wave, with every miss, with every fall. Although the friend was very encouraging, with any good friendship, many laughs were shared between fails
“In peace, may you leave this shore…” She begins shakily.
“In peace, may you leave this shore… In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again”
With the alcohol in full effect she cant control her emotions. Her eyes now full of tears and her face streaked
“I’m so- I’m so s-sorry I couldn’t h-help you. I wish you would have t-told ME! I could have hel-elped, I would have helped any way I could.” She chokes out.
The blonde falls to the sand, knees pulled into her chest and sobs. She can't escape it. She feels like her best-friend's death is all her fault. Madi seem’d okay, everytime Clarke would ask, the friend would convincingly reassure. She kept everything bottled to herself and that angered Clarke. She knew she probably didn’t have that right but that’s just what she felt. She’s confused, and shes angry on why she couldn’t be a safeplace for the girl, why she couldn’t help her
Sobs rack through her ribs, and gut out of her throat. It’s been three weeks of this, three weeks of seeing her body all over again, three weeks of seeing the pools of crimson stained into her tiles, three weeks of smelling the iron that reeked through her nose as the door opened. She’ll never forget the blade, still in the lifeless hand that lays stretched on the floor. She’ll never forget what she saw
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By the time Clarke caught her breath, an hour seemed to pass by. The tide climbed up the beach a little higher, now almost to her feet
“Fuck.” She yelped.
It's been a while since she’s checked her phone, ever since she's lived away from family, she almost always calls with her sister Raven before going to bed. The only time(s) she didn’t was the night her ex, Finn Collins, hurt her, and once more the night of the accident. The two, while not blood-related, have a very close bond. The Griffins adopted Raven when she was around 6 after her parents were unfortunately killed in an accident. They grew up together and share a special bond, albeit their relationship flared with the occasional argument and bicker. The latina’s brain is like a supercomputer, might as well be one. Currently she spends her time at NASA in their mechanics department, and has always been top of her class. Not to mention, she is fierce, confident, and very protective of her friends/family
Friday
21:30 (9:30 p.m) - YOU
Yeah I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night, love you❤️
Friday
21:30 (9:31 p.m) - Raven🧠💕
Love you too, night💞
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Saturday
19:43 (7:43 p.m) - Raven🧠💕
Hey Clarkie, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow so I’m about to hit the hay, you around?
Saturday
20:01 (8:01 p.m) - Raven🧠💕
Neigh?... get it, cus neigh sounds like no, and a horse neighs… and eats hay- okay I’ll
stop, but seriously where are you?
Saturday
20:23 (8:23p.m) - Raven🧠💕
**Missed Call**
Saturday
20:37 (8:37 p.m) - Raven🧠💕
**Missed Call**
Saturday
21:15 (9:15 p.m) - Raven🧠💕
Clarkieeeeeee where the hell are you? You’re seriously gonna make me stay up
just so you can masturbate?
Saturday
23:05 (11:05 p.m) - Raven🧠💕
Seriously Clarke I’m getting worried, please call me back when you see this, I love you.
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“Fuck.” The blonde sighs in defeat
She’s had bad breakdowns before that have lasted a week or so, but usually she can be high functioning. Something about seeing it. Something about witnessing the aftermath knowing she couldn’t do anything to help just wrecks her. It reminds her a lot of when she saw her father. She’s afraid she can't handle it right now just like she wasn’t before
Staring at the missed contacts for what seems like ages, but only minutes pass, she decides to stand up. “It’s late”, she thinks, “no need to wake her up if she has an early shif-”
Suddenly Clarke feels her phone vibrating rapidly in her hand
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Now - 00:53 (12:53 a.m)
Incoming Call - Raven🧠💕…
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“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Why aren’t you asleep!” She yowled.
Clarke hovers for a moment before accepting the call
“CLARKE! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick! You rarely miss my calls, are you okay?” The latina says fearfully.
“I... I-” Clarke stutters.
The blonde takes a deep breath to compose herself before she speaks
“I’m sso ssorry Raven, I jusstt lost tr-ack of time. Fuck, I’m really ssorrry. I’m okay” She slurs out drunkenly.
“Clarke, are you drunk?” The brunette asks concerningly.
“Nnno I just had a lit-lll to drink that’s it, I’m okay Raven, you have a-an early shift. I just need to be alone right nnow, I’m sorry I worried you.” She again slurs drunkenly.
“Clarke I still am worried, I know you’re not handling this well, you’re drinking almost daily and don’t talk to anyone outside of me at night. I’m worried. I don’t want to see you turn into mom.”
And at that, a switch in Clarke flips, she pushes her walls even higher. She knows the brunette is right, but she just can't be sober right now. A tinge of anger fills her body, but most of all, more hatred for herself. She doesn’t want to turn into their mom either. After their father died, Abby, her mother, became an alcoholic, and a mean one at that. She would raise her voice, yell, smash things around the house, it went as far as even hitting the girls. They both previously looked up to her. She was an astound trauma surgeon for Trikru Medbay, and that inspired Clarke in her career. She grew up learning how to stitch people up, put people back together, yet somehow death and destruction followed everywhere. She is the problem
She takes her time to think about a response, and coherently respond
“I’m okay, I’m sorry to worry you Raven, you should get some rest, please, I didn’t mean to keep you up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I love you.”
“Clarke wai-”
She quickly ends the call before Raven can finish her sentence. Suffocation overtakes her body, she feels trapped. It’s like every little thing is throwing her over the edge. In an impulsive thought, she quickly takes off her shoes, drops her phone and wallet on the sand, then runs towards the open water, alcohol leading the way. One drunken step after the other, her ankles now submerged in the water, she sprints and jumps into the night's cold water. For a moment, time slows down. Her breath is held under the depths, her eyes are tightly shut, her hearing is dulled… It's peaceful. She just needed a moment of quiet. After a few more moments under, she finds her way out of the water and back onto the beach. With her clothes now wet, and the ocean causing increased wind speeds, the “why did I do that” mentality kicks in, but is quickly dismissed. Instead, she sits. She sits in the cold and she stares for a while
Somberly, the blonde begins, “I understand”…
“I understand and I don’t. You seem’d so happy all the time, I would’ve picked up the phone if you’d just called. I understand the feeling, I really do. But you just fucking left. No note, no- no… no fucking trace of a reason? No hint, or- or indication? You slit your wrists in our fucking bathroom. You died and you were left for me to find”…
By this point tears are streaming down her face rapidly, although she tries her hardest to prevent it
“I’m tired too, Madi. First Wells, then my father, my mother, Finn... now you? Everyone I get close to fucking dies or might as well be.” She reluctantly admits. “Why Madi.”
The distraught girl pulls her knees back to her chest, head tucked into arms, and silently sobs. She feels like a disappointment. People lose people all the time, yet why can’t she pull herself together. The only thing she can say good about herself is her career, and even then she’s risking that away. She’s scared. Scared of everything. Even scared of fucking breathing. She’s scared of getting close to people. Scared of fucking everything up… She’s scared of herself.
Clarke quietly whimpers, “I’m so-rry I couldn’t h-help yo-” before suddenly, she’s interrupted by a pressure on her shoulder
“FUCK!” Clarke shrieks.
In fear, the blonde quickly turns around to see… to see-
“Shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” The person says apologetically.
Clarke couldn’t believe it. Standing right in front of her was the same mesmerizing palette of green she couldn’t take her eyes off of at the bar… delicately looking at her own.