[ every day he feels that his moral compass is askew, wanting to cling to the person he used to be. the world has never been black and white but constantly treading into that grey area still makes him nervous and uncertain about which direction he should take. he would have once rejected the notion that he would one day have to keep his weapons close and often visible, that he would have to learn different ways of fighting.
there are different ways of survival and coping, of reacting to fresh wounds in the process of healing. the memories from mount weather still stay with them, from the horror of watching them drill into raven to that uncertain feeling after their struggles came to an end. he often sees those blistered bodies scattered all over the bunker when he closes his eyes. no one's hands were clean after that day.
for a long while, he remains quiet, simply keeping his eyes fixed on clarke's face as she speaks to him. he unclenches his jaw. ] You didn't have to go at this alone. You have me, and you have everyone else. [ as steady as he would like to be, there is a very small tremor in his voice near the end of his sentence and he suddenly looks away from her, clenching his fists.
a deep breath. ] I'm just glad to see you in one piece, Clarke.
[ it isn't difficult to smile when he says that and he takes the smallest step forward as an attempt to close the distance between them. he does nothing further. ]
[Clarke knows that no excuse exists for why she left. At the time, it seemed like the most logical, sensible thing to do. With her gone, her people could move on, and she would take their pain and suffering with her. Once she hit the line of trees, the weight of it began to settle over her, but she refused to let herself turn back. Her mind began going through the motions. Too controlled, too steady in her ways at times, she knew exactly how to plan the means to protect herself and prevent her return. She knew exactly where to hide, how to live her life, and what to do for herself. Alongside Lexa and her people, she learned about the various people in Trikru who were warriors but mostly fended for themselves, living alone much like Lincoln did.
Sometimes, it was better that they were spread out. It helped them maintain their claim over their land.
But still, the plans she developed make it difficult for her to deny her culpability. Then again, would she?
Clarke knows she wouldn't.]
I don't really have an explanation for it. But I'm—I am okay. I promise.
[It feels important to make him believe this before she steps forward, closing the distance between him and her so that her arms can wrap around him in a familiar embrace.
The moment her fingers cling to the back of his jacket, she presses her face close to his neck and whispers through a strained voice,] I'm so sorry.
no subject
there are different ways of survival and coping, of reacting to fresh wounds in the process of healing. the memories from mount weather still stay with them, from the horror of watching them drill into raven to that uncertain feeling after their struggles came to an end. he often sees those blistered bodies scattered all over the bunker when he closes his eyes. no one's hands were clean after that day.
for a long while, he remains quiet, simply keeping his eyes fixed on clarke's face as she speaks to him. he unclenches his jaw. ] You didn't have to go at this alone. You have me, and you have everyone else. [ as steady as he would like to be, there is a very small tremor in his voice near the end of his sentence and he suddenly looks away from her, clenching his fists.
a deep breath. ] I'm just glad to see you in one piece, Clarke.
[ it isn't difficult to smile when he says that and he takes the smallest step forward as an attempt to close the distance between them. he does nothing further. ]
no subject
Sometimes, it was better that they were spread out. It helped them maintain their claim over their land.
But still, the plans she developed make it difficult for her to deny her culpability. Then again, would she?
Clarke knows she wouldn't.]
I don't really have an explanation for it. But I'm—I am okay. I promise.
[It feels important to make him believe this before she steps forward, closing the distance between him and her so that her arms can wrap around him in a familiar embrace.
The moment her fingers cling to the back of his jacket, she presses her face close to his neck and whispers through a strained voice,] I'm so sorry.