Since there is a little more medical business in this chapter than usual, I want to take a moment to say I have zero background in medicine of any kind, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. Everything I know comes from medical shows (mostly House) and Google.

Also I want to give a quick warning: there is a child death in this chapter (not one we've met yet, don't worry). Though a little spoilery, I think it's an important note to give, just to be safe.

Three Years Later

With barely an hour left before she could go home, Clarke's pen tapped impatiently against the counter as she tried not to look at the clock again. As much as she knew she should be focusing on the paperwork for her last surgery, a splenectomy for a man in his early twenties with no complications, with every passing second it was becoming harder and harder. Under normal circumstances she had no problem paying attention to her work but she was finally coming to the end of a twelve hour shift and found it hard to think of anything other than going home. None of the kids had been up when she had to leave that morning and she'd even barely managed to give Lexa more than a simple kiss after she'd gotten back from her run before she had to go, so she was getting a little impatient at the thought of being able to see her family again. As it was she would just manage to get home in time to read Skylar her nightly bedtime story and then hound the other two over whether or not they'd finished their homework yet. Thinking about that, Clarke felt the corners of her lips twitch; she had no doubt Lexa would have been on them both ever since they got home from school, but having a little bit of backup never hurt. Especially since Tris despised homework with every fiber of her being and often had to be goaded into doing it.

All thoughts of going home and seeing her family wiped away when she heard the sound of sirens just outside, followed within seconds by the mechanical sweep of the automatic doors opening and then the squeaking wheels of a gurney being pushed through the doorway and two sets of heavy footsteps nearly overpowering the squeak. All of those noises were lost beneath the desperate cries coming from the woman trying to push her way past the two paramedics to stand beside the whimpering child being wheeled into the hospital. Now entirely focused on her job, Clarke left her paperwork on the reception desk and hurried over to the new party.

"What do we have?" she demanded as she stepped up beside the gurney, making sure not to get in the paramedics' way but needing to get a better look at the boy. He looked to be about six or seven though he was dwarfed on the gurney with so many people crowding around him. His sandy blonde hair was now dark from perspiration and the smattering of freckles across his nose stood out far too well from just how pale he'd gone. As she looked his eyelids drooped and then rose again as though he were forcing them to stay open and losing the fight. One paramedic held an oxygen mask to his face, urging him to keep breathing while the other pressed against a bandage covering a large portion of his chest. Blood seeped through what had once been off white woven gauze, staining it bright red. Clarke didn't even need either of the paramedics to say anything, she could already tell exactly what kind of wound they were working with and the knowledge of it made her own blood run cold.

"Seven-year-old male took two bullets, one to the chest and one to the abdomen," one of the paramedics told her quickly, his hand still pressed against the bandage. "He's been in and out of consciousness. We haven't been able to slow down the bleeding."

By now there were three nurses surrounding the area as well, one already with her hands on the gurney and the other two prepared for the second the paramedics stepped away. They did, and the two nurses swooped in to take their spots. Clarke remained practically glued to the gurney, not once taking her eyes off the boy. "Get OR One prepped for surgery and I want a CT scan of the chest and abdomen," she called out, fully aware someone would be there to hear her and do as she said. "Get a unit of O negative ready for transfusion." Another nurse nodded quickly and ran to get everything ready for her and she knew by the time they got there she would have a full team ready to do whatever they had to in order to save this boy's life.

They sped down the hallway, the paramedics still with them and filling Clarke in on everything she needed to know, the doctor nodding away and throwing more questions at them. By now she was so used to the mayhem of emergencies that she didn't even realize the woman who'd come in with the boy was no longer with them until they got to the doors leading to the operating rooms and realized she no longer heard her cries. Looking up for the first time since the boy had been wheeled in she found the woman at the end of the hall with another nurse physically holding her back. With the way she continued to stare at the gurney, clearly barely seeing anyone but the little boy and shaking in the nurse's arms Clarke knew she had to be his mother. Somewhere deep inside of her she ached for this woman but the feeling was too far away to really grasp at the moment, buried too deeply to even notice. Right now all she could focus on was her patient and the injuries in front of her and not how those wounds were affecting anyone but him.

Quickly the doctor scrubbed in, prepping herself for the surgery as fast as possible while her team prepared the boy. Within what felt simultaneously like seconds and hours they were ready and the anesthesiologist had the little boy out, his quiet whimpers now silent as he finally fell into unconsciousness. Two others stood around the room, a nurse and a surgical tech, making sure Clarke had everything she would need. She'd worked with each of these people before and knew they would all do whatever was necessary to try to save the little boy on the table in front of them. Without a word they got to work.

One of the first lessons Clarke had learned when she'd finally finished all her schooling and took on the role of trauma surgeon: in the operating room, time was her real opponent. No matter who laid in front of her or what the wound was, her biggest obstacle was always time. The time always moved at a steady pace despite how much it felt like it always sped up while she had to slow down. Even as the energy in the room spiked, everyone moving and working together like a well-oiled machine, Clarke had to go carefully as the seconds ticked away. Every cut, every movement had to be precise. Her hands couldn't shake, her confidence in herself and those around her couldn't waver. They had to move quickly to figure out exactly what the bullets had torn through and where the worst danger was but to Clarke it never felt like they could move fast enough. With every second that went by the boy lost yet more blood, and she could easily see his skin losing all color.

"Come on," she muttered to herself, hands still steady as she worked. Glancing up just briefly she looked at the boy's face, his eyes closed and looking almost like he was sleeping. The look terrified her but she pushed that terror back, didn't let it affect her work. "You have to work with me. Keep fighting with me." The nurses around her didn't say anything, just glanced at him and kept at their own work.

They all kept going. Despite the fact that the bleeding was heaviest from the shot to the abdomen Clarke focused first on the chest wound. The bullet had caused one of the boy's lungs to collapse so she used a plastic tube to remove the excess air from his chest, hoping to re-inflate the lung. She then worked carefully to remove the bullet which had lodged itself into his right scapula, making sure not to cause anymore damage as she pulled it out. Only once that wound seemed to be as stable as possible for the moment did she move on to the abdomen, having to open him up to get a better idea of what she was working with. As the doctor worked to find the source of the bleeding and fix it, one of the nurses helped with the suction, doing his best to simultaneously stay out of Clarke's way and make it easier for her to see what she was doing.

The wound to the abdomen had the blonde biting the inside of her cheek while she worked though she didn't realize it. The bullet had caused more damage than she'd hoped, enough that it was difficult to see where the worst bleeding was coming from. Clarke worked diligently, repairing blood vessels and closely examining the organs as she went. There was no bullet to pull out of this wound; unlike the first one, this bullet had entered his left upper quadrant, torn through his liver and stomach and then exited out his back. The surgeon worked quickly, trying to repair as much damage to the two organs as she could.

Hours passed as the team worked but the doctor noticed the time only in her fight against it. At one point the boy's blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level, one of the nurses noticing the drop just as the beeping of the medical monitor began to pick up. They managed to get it back under control but Clarke could feel her own heart racing as she got back to work, her hands still perfectly steady. Though the nurses in the room also remained focused she could feel the energy around them skyrocket, each one of them clearly afraid of what might happen if his blood pressure dropped again.

In the end, it wasn't the blood pressure that ended everything.

"Dr. Woods!" the anesthesiologist exclaimed and Clarke stilled her movements in their patient's abdomen before glancing over at her. She followed the woman's gaze until she noticed the blood pooling up through the tube still sticking out of the boy's chest. Swearing, she immediately moved to it as his lungs continued to fill with the liquid and drip down the side of the tube. She worked to drain the fluid from his lungs and find the source of the bleed, but just as she did she heard exactly what she'd been dreading this whole time as the tempo of the heart rate monitor suddenly slowed.

"Heart rate's dropping," the surgical tech announced unnecessarily, already rushing to get the defibrillator. Quickly she wheeled the machine over to Clarke who grabbed the paddles, holding them out as the other woman squirted gel on them. As she did an unmistakeable and grating noise filled the room as their patient's heart rate flat lined. The anesthesiologist and nurse had already stepped back by the time they were ready, but even so the doctor glanced around the room, calling, "Clear!" With no more warning than that she stepped forward and pressed the paddles to the boy's chest. His body jerked, chest heaving up from the electrical jolt but the line on the heart monitor didn't change. Clarke bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood and held the paddles out for more gel as they recharged, not taking her eyes off of her patient for even so much as a second. The moment the defibrillator was ready she stepped forward again, calling another, "Clear," despite the fact no one else had moved back over to the table. Again the body jolted but still the monitor let out the one long continuous drone, the sound baring down on Clarke's eardrums. It blurred out any other noises, amplified many times over by the heavy weight suddenly stuck in her chest. When she stepped back the surgical technician held out the gel again, clearly thinking it might be worth something to give it one more try but the doctor shook her head. She dropped the paddles back on the tray with the machine and looked over at the clock hanging above the door.

"Time of death, 9:57 PM," she stated, the pain she felt not yet managing to creep its way into her voice. She could see that pain reflected in the eyes of the others in the room but none of them said anything. The surgical technician stepped away, dragging the defibrillator with her to clean it and make sure it was ready for its next use. The anesthesiologist removed the mask from over the boy's face, glancing briefly at him before needing to look away and then stepped away to continue with her own responsibilities. Clarke looked up at the nurse, a man in his fifties clearly having just as hard a time with this as the rest of them, and nodded down to the still body. "Let's close him up. His mother doesn't need to see him like this." He returned the nod and the two got to work cleaning up their lost patient.

When Clarke stepped out of the operating room, she wasn't very surprised to see a few nurses and doctors standing around, all giving her that knowing look, already aware of what had happened. A few people moved over to her, clapping her lightly on the arm or grasping her shoulder, murmuring about how she'd done everything she could and to each she just nodded mechanically. It never felt like she'd done everything possible when she lost a patient, especially not one as young as this one, but they understood that too. Most walked away after giving her a little pat but one didn't, and when she saw him she forced her lips into a small smile.

"Jaime," she said, a hint of relief she wasn't sure she actually felt bubbling up her throat and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He'd only been working at Mount Memorial Hospital for a few months and they'd seen each other less than she'd originally thought they might but at this moment she was just glad he was there. Her eyes closed, a wetness quickly forming behind her eyelids she tried to ignore, and held onto him tightly for just a few seconds.

"I'm sorry Clarke," he whispered against her ear. "You did everything you could. Sometimes it's just not enough." She nodded because she knew that and had learned it as a child when her mother came home after a bad day at work but it didn't make the weight in her chest any lighter. Her arms squeezed around him just a little tighter for only a second longer and then she backed away and he let his arms drop, the moment over. As she stepped back she opened her eyes and found his scanning her face, her pain reflecting back at her from dark eyes that understood what she was feeling all too well.

"I need to go notify the family," she stated, an iron control once again in her tone and he nodded as he stepped aside to let her go do just that. She could feel him watching her as she made her way down the hall, preparing herself for her least favorite part of the job. Losing someone on her operating table was always hard but facing their family and friends was just as difficult.

Clarke rounded a corner towards the waiting room and found someone standing in the doorway, yet another face she recognized. She'd expected there to be police – when a seven year old is shot of course there's going to be an investigation – but it hadn't crossed her mind she'd see Lexa's old partner. Roan looked like he was waiting for her, and that suspicion was confirmed when he stepped over to her the moment he saw her approaching. Seeing him, a cold fury ignited in her chest momentarily burning away her pain.

"Do you have a suspect?" she all but demanded as he closed the distance between them. She kept her voice down, not wanting the woman on the other side of the wall to hear them. She knew she had to go do this, had to tell a mother her son was gone, but first she needed to know what the hell had happened to put a seven-year-old in her operating room.

She'd seen Roan only two months ago at one of their barbeques. Despite the fact Lexa was no longer on the force they all still kept in touch, meaning the large man was still very much a part of their strange extended family. The grim expression on his face made him look like he'd aged ten years in two months. The lines around his mouth seemed to deepen as he looked at her, clearly not needing to ask to know whether of not her patient had made it.

"We don't need a suspect," he answered, voice gruff. "We know what happened." When Clarke raised an eyebrow, jaw still clenched as she tried to hold on to this fury he sighed and shook his head. "Ryan Hartford was shot by his five-year-old brother." Clarke's eyes widened in shock and the big detective met the look. "Sounds like the boys found their father's gun and were playing with it. Louis had it and pulled the trigger while it was pointed at his brother. The noise scared him and he accidentally pulled it again. Their mother was in another room and didn't even realize what the noises were until she heard Louis crying."

Horrified, Clarke had to clench her jaw even harder to keep the burning she suddenly felt in her throat from growing. She fought to hold onto her fury, wanting its cold fire to fend off the weight of the pain in her chest, but she could feel it slowly slipping away. This was all one big stupid accident that didn't have to happen and the knowledge of that opened a hole in her gut.

Looking past him to the door she mumbled, "I have to go inform the family." He nodded as he stepped out of her way but told her, "I'll need to talk with you after. We've got a few questions." She nodded numbly, the only response she could give, and then made her way to the doorway, trying to steal herself away. Ryan's mother would be hurting enough, she didn't need to see the doctor's pain too.

The crying woman from before was no longer alone. A man sat next to her, the two bent over and desperately grasping at the other's hands. A little boy with the same smattering of freckles Ryan had sat beside the woman, brown eyes big and wide and terrified. Another woman who looked like she might be related to the boys' father sat on the other side of the child, one arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders.

Clarke cleared her throat as she stepped into the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Hartford?" she called as evenly as she could and the man immediately looked up. The woman only looked over when he tugged lightly on her hands, and it seemed as though she were fighting through some kind of fog, eyes clearly taking a second to focus as she looked up at the doctor. After a second she seemed to recognize Clarke, and then she was jumping up, her husband right behind her.

"My son," she cried, her voice hoarse already. Her eyes wildly scanned the blonde's face, searching for the answer before she even asked the question. "Is he alright?"

Swallowing thickly, Clarke made sure her voice was even before she answered quietly, "I'm so sorry. I did everything I could. His heart gave out on the table. I'm sorry."

Before she'd even finished speaking tears were rolling down Mr. Hartford's face, too many to count and too quickly to try. Mrs. Hartford stared at her for a long moment and Clarke didn't look away, knowing sometimes it took a minute for the news to sink in.

"N-no," she finally managed to push out from between lips that had gone pale. "No, you're wrong. He's not, no, he isn't, he can't be..." Her husband's hands went to her shoulders to try to steady her. "Maggie-" he began, but suddenly as though someone flipped a switch her entire demeanor changed.

"No!" she screamed, pushing his hands away from her. "He isn't-! He can't be-! Ryan!" Her son's name came out in a mangled scream, a sound that had stopped Clarke's heart cold the first time she'd heard it, but this time she was ready for it. When Mrs. Hartford tried to push past her she stepped in front of her, not letting her get by.

"Mrs. Hartford, please, I know you're upset but you need to calm down," she stated in the most calming voice she could manage. The mother didn't listen to her, not that she'd really expected her to, and when Clarke remained in her way she grabbed the doctor's shoulders and tried to push her away.

"No!" she continually screamed, "No, my baby! Ryan! Ryan!" Her husband tried to pull her away but she fought against him, and when Clarke still didn't move she began tearing at her arms, nails running down the lengths of her sleeves. "Get away from me! Get out of my way I need to find him! Ryan!"

"I need some help here!" Clarke boomed, her voice rising over the woman's frantic cries as she held onto her. "Mrs. Hartford, you need to calm down!"

Within seconds others were there, security and nurses both ready and trained for this kind of situation. The woman fought back against everyone, still thrashing around as she screamed for her lost son. Someone had brought a gurney with them and the group tried to wrestle her onto it but she wriggled and kicked, her fists flying out at anyone unlucky enough to be in her way. Clarke was right in the heart of it, wrestling to try to keep her arms down so she couldn't hurt herself or anyone else as she continued to try to calm her down. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a nurse with a needle, the group working to hold her still long enough so administer the sedative. Almost as soon as it was empty the woman's struggling slowed down, her movements now without much power behind them until she was entirely out. Clarke stepped back as a few nurses loaded her onto the gurney and then watched as they wheeled her away to admit her. She would remain sedated for hours, the doctor knew, and with any luck when she woke up she would be better able to handle this new reality. Exactly how the doctor didn't know; how does one accept the loss of their child?

Muffled sobs managed to cut through the adrenaline still pumping through Clarke's system and she looked over to the members of the Hartford family still in the room. Mr. Hartford still stood in place as though frozen, staring down the hall where his wife had disappeared, and from the way he stood Clarke was pretty sure he didn't know he was still silently crying. The sobs she'd heard came from the chairs and she looked over to find Louis Hartford with his face buried against his aunt's shoulder, his tiny body shaking with his sobs. His aunt held onto him but looked lost, as though she couldn't truly believe she was there and this was all happening.

Seeing that none of them would be able to take anymore right now, Clarke turned around to see Roan still standing in the doorway, the lines along his face now even deeper. She walked over to him, all while trying to push the echoing of Louis's sobs out of her skull.

/

By the time Clarke was able to leave the hospital after admitting Mrs. Hartford, speaking with the police and then Mr. Hartford and his sister some more and topping it all off with paperwork, she could feel her exhaustion sinking all the way into her bones. It began in her joints and spread outwards, a living thing that only seemed to grow inside her. Roan offered to drive her home, perhaps seeing just how exhausted she was, but she declined. Riding with him meant having to feel his own pain at this pointless tragedy beside her the whole way and that would only fuel her exhaustion. She wanted the drive alone, needed it to try to compartmentalize her incredibly shitty last few hours of work. There was no fighting off what she could feel growing inside her, this incredibly hollow mass of devastation, but there was fighting it back, at least for the time being. She cranked her music, screamed along with the lyrics of the 80's rock bands her parents used to listen to during every car ride and tried to forget.

She was used to moving through a dark house after late shifts and so made her way easily up the stairs after getting home, avoiding the squeaky spot as she climbed up to the second floor. The upper floor was just as dark as the first floor, only a dull light coming through the crack of the door of the girls' room and the outline of light from her and Lexa's room. Just like every time she came home after bedtime she went to her daughters' room first and opened the door a little wider, peering inside. The light she'd seen came from the nightlight Skylar still used, plugged into the wall across from their beds. Two years ago they'd gotten bunk beds after Skylar had outgrown her "baby bed" as she'd called it, and now Clarke found Tris sleeping in the top bunk as her little sister slept below her, just as they did every night. The blonde silently stepped into the room and moved over to the set of beds and where usually she would quickly give them each a kiss and soft goodnight before sneaking out of the room, tonight she just stood there, staring at them. She studied Tris sleeping on her side, facing the room with sleep-mussed hair covering her face. The mother knew that despite how very asleep she looked the smallest noise would wake her daughter up in nearly an instant and she'd climb down the ladder to make sure her sister was alright. Despite being with them for five years Clarke knew she still felt like she always had to protect her sister and that overwhelming need wasn't likely to ever go away. For her part Skylar slept peacefully, without a care in the world with a line of stuffed animals between her and the wall, Doggie tucked firmly in the crook of her arm.

For long seconds that drew out into minutes Clarke stood there, staring at her daughters. She thought of the weeks after they'd been adopted when she and Lexa would stand in the doorway and just watch them sleep. Had the Hartfords done that with their sons after they were born? Had they spent hours just staring at their babies, silently promising to protect them forever? She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but the questions nagged at her mind even so, constantly swirling. Finally she broke through their power and stepped forward, brushing gentle kisses to her daughters' foreheads and murmuring quiet goodnights.

In Calvin's room the questions returned again and she did the same thing, just standing next to his bed and staring for longer than usual. He slept on his stomach, one arm under the pillow while the other rested against Pauna, probably having fallen asleep as he scratched her ears. She and Lexa had never been able to keep the dog from his room at night, honestly had never even tried all that hard, and now it was a common sight to see boy and dog sharing his bed. Clarke wondered if there was a dog at the Hartford house right now, and if it knew its boy was gone. A burn beginning to fizzle in the back of her throat, the mother finally leaned down and pressed her lips lightly to the young teen's forehead, whispering a soft goodnight to him. She gave Pauna a light scratch behind her ear, the dog's stumpy tail wagging slightly but her eyes not opening, and then she forced herself to leave the room.

In her own bedroom, Clarke found the lamp on Lexa's bedside table on, pouring a soft warm glow into the room. The brunette laid in bed with her body turned away from the light, and from the steady rise and fall of her body Clarke knew she was asleep. The doctor ached to climb into bed with her, to burrow herself into the curve of Lexa's body and use it to shield herself from the outside world but instead she turned and walked quietly to their bathroom, closing the door behind her. Before she could hide from the world she needed a shower, needed to wash this miserable day off of her. She reached up and tore the hair tie from the ponytail she tended to wear at work, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders and tossed it to the side, not caring where it landed. Without thought she stripped, letting her clothes fall into a pile on the floor that she ignored, and then she was stepping into the shower before reaching out and turning the water on.

Icy drops pounded against her skin, and where normally she would quickly retreat away from them, tonight she let them hit her. She reached out to turn up the temperature but didn't shy away, didn't let the freezing cold move her. As the temperature ever so slowly increased, she wondered if Ryan's skin was this cold yet. It wasn't, it hadn't been long enough for his body's core temperature to drop more than a few degrees, but the thought made her shudder and turn the handle even further to get the water to heat faster. It did, and soon what had once been icy drops burned, turning her pale skin a soft pink.

Clarke didn't reach for the shampoo or her body wash. She didn't think about cleaning her hair or slathering soap on a wash cloth; all she did was stand under the hot spray and think, and as the thoughts played in her mind the exhaustion she'd felt for over an hour grew and shifted, slowly morphing into the pain she'd always known it was meant to be. Part of her wanted to push back against it, wanted to keep herself from falling into its pit but a much larger part knew it was no use; her pain was real and it was powerful and there was no hiding from it. Her throat burned hotter than the water pelting down on her and her chin trembled. She bit the inside of her cheek and then winced, re-opening the spot she'd made bleed earlier in surgery. She'd forgotten all about it until this moment when she felt the sharp sting followed by the metallic taste of blood and the taste only made her throat burn hotter. The smell of iron suddenly surrounded her despite her clean bathroom and for a second the water sliding down her fingers was a young boy's blood and she just couldn't stop the bleeding.

A whimper echoing off the walls of the shower was her own and she stepped back until her back lightly hit the wall. Her arms came up, wrapping across her front as though she might be able to hold herself together and then she was slowly slipping down the wall. The water continued to rain down on her but now she sat in the large tub, her legs folding up to press her knees against her elbows. She shook her head to try to push away the images of Ryan Hartford on her operating table and when that failed she let her head fall forward, resting against her knees.

"Clarke?" she suddenly heard called, her name nearly lost beneath the pelting of the water around her. She cleared her throat, hoping to control it before she spoke, and then called back, "Go back to bed Lexa, I'll be out in a couple of minutes." She listened, thinking maybe it had worked and she would be able to fall apart alone, but a few long seconds later fingers curled around the shower curtain to pull it back and she saw her wife standing in front of her in a t-shirt and pair of loose shorts. The water must have been too loud for her to hear the bathroom door open so now she just looked up, reading the immediate flash of concern on her wife's face when she found her on the floor of the tub.

"Clarke," Lexa let out in a breath, her eyes scanning her wife's curled up body and something about the absolute care and concern in those green eyes finally pushed the blonde over the edge. Her control crumbled and her shoulders shook as the first sob finally found its release. Suddenly there was no way to know whether the water streaming down her cheeks came from the shower faucet or her tear ducts and she just curled into herself even further. Her chin pressed against her chest and her forehead pressed against her knees and she felt herself fall apart, the pain of watching a child die in front of her washing over her so much more forcefully than the spray from the shower could.

She heard the movement before she felt it, heard it as Lexa stepped into the tub and sank down beside her and then felt it as strong arms pulled her close. Part of her wanted to fight it, wanted to shield Lexa from this hurt because she didn't want it to hit anyone else but she couldn't and didn't even try. Instead she melted into her wife, let her body unfurl and let Lexa's arms be the strength that held her together. Lexa's body rocked and she rocked along with it, her back pressed against the brunette's front. Through the contact she could feel Lexa's pajamas, the shirt and shorts she'd put on for bed but apparently hadn't thought to take off before stepping into the shower with Clarke, and the feeling of the soaked fabric had the blonde twisting in her hold, just enough so she could press her forehead to Lexa's shoulder. Suddenly Lexa's lips were near her ear whispering soft assurances even though she didn't know what had caused this breakdown and Clarke fell into them, fell into her. Lexa held her and they rocked and Clarke's body shook as she let her pain rage through her and then fall down her cheeks as the hot water fell around them.

Neither had any idea how long they stayed like that, Lexa's back pressed against the end of the tub and Clarke's back pressed against Lexa's chest. They stayed like that, moving only through the brunette's swaying, and Clarke clung to the arms around her middle until the pain that had festered inside her lungs and chest seemed finally to have migrated on. The dull ache of it remained but its burn snuffed out like the wick of a candle and the blonde felt like maybe she could move again without feeling the weight of a seven-year-old's life pressing down on her. Even so they didn't move, didn't get up or say anything and Clarke shifted a little, just enough to turn so she could press her forehead against Lexa's cheek.

"What happened?" she heard Lexa whispered softly as one arm uncurled from her middle so she could run fingers gently down the blonde's arm. Some fresh, actually physical pain radiated from the soft movement and she looked down to see a few scratches on her arm, ones she hadn't noticed until this moment. Looking at the other arm she found a few more, none of them serious though it was clear at least a couple had bled when they first appeared. Letting out a long, heavy sigh she sank back against her wife, letting her head roll back to Lexa's shoulder.

"I lost a little boy today," she answered, closing her eyes and trying to lose herself to Lexa's touch. "He was only seven. Apparently he and his little brother found their father's gun and were playing with it and it went off twice. I tried to save him but..." Evidently the pain hadn't been entirely cried out as a fresh, fighting burn crawled up her throat but she swallowed thickly, trying to douse it. "I couldn't. When I told his family he was gone the mother couldn't take it. We had to sedate and admit her. I hadn't realized she'd scratched me."

For a second Lexa remained quiet behind her, probably soaking the story in, and then Clarke felt the arm still around her middle tighten though the fingers running along her arm didn't change in speed or pressure. "I'm so sorry my love," Lexa whispered against her ear and the blonde could hear the pain she hadn't wanted to spread in her voice. Clarke just shook her head, unable to even begin to find any words, and Lexa's lips brushed lightly against her neck. "It wasn't your fault," she murmured, holding onto Clarke as though if she held her close enough she might be able to shield them both from a world where they knew tragedies like this one were all too common. "You tried to save him."

"But I couldn't," the blonde replied, her tone not one of self-loathing but just sounding tired. Lexa's cheek rested against her shoulder, green eyes staring knowingly at her wife. "Could anyone have?" Clarke thought about it for a second, wondering, but then shrugged. "I don't know," she answered truthfully. "Maybe if he'd gotten to the hospital sooner or we'd been able to do a transfusion earlier..."

"It sounds like there was nothing more you could do," Lexa murmured. "His death isn't your fault but the fault of the person who left a loaded gun somewhere young children could get to it."

"I know," the blonde whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed back against Lexa a little more firmly. "I do. I still just-" She shook her head, unable to find the words but her wife didn't need them. The fingers running along her arm stopped and then she had both arms holding her middle again and Lexa was pressing soft kisses to her shoulder. "I know Clarke. I get it."

"I just... I can't stop picturing Skylar on that table instead of Ryan," the blonde finally admitted, her voice so small and so scared she wondered if Lexa could even hear it. "She's just about his age, and I just keep thinking what if it was her, what if she was the one bleeding out like that?"

"Stop," Lexa ordered, her tone commanding and very Marine-esque, one she wasn't sure she'd ever used with Clarke before. She understood what it was like imagining a loved one into the horrors she'd seen, and her heart began beating quickly at just that thought. "It wasn't Sky," she continued, her tone softening. "It wasn't Tris or Calvin either, all of our children are safe in their beds. Our family is safe, Clarke. We're all here and none of us are going anywhere." She felt her wife nod against her but knew her words would never be able to just knock those images away. "Come on," she murmured, lips returning to press lightly against Clarke's skin. "Let's get to bed. I'm too young for the wrinkles this water is giving me." She could see the corner of the blonde's lips curl up as she shot her a look and then she nodded.

Clarke moved first, sliding forward just enough to give Lexa space to move as well, and then they stood together, the brunette reaching around the blonde to turn off the water. They stepped out of the shower and then Clarke was shaking her head, giving Lexa a look as her clothes dripped steadily on the floor. The blonde helped her pull the soaked garments off and then found them both towels, and soon they were moving back into their room and turning the bathroom light off behind them. Clarke made her way over to their bureau, Lexa behind her and her arms still wrapped around her, and pulled out two long t-shirts. Together they dried off to the best of their abilities and tossed the towels back into the bathroom to be dealt with in the morning. Dressed in only the t-shirts, the two got into bed and slipped beneath the covers, Lexa taking just enough time to turn off her lamp before she had her arms wrapped back around her wife.

"Lexa?" Clarke's voice murmured softly in the dark, and the brunette pressed forward, leaving yet another kiss against her shoulder. "Yes Clarke?"

"Could we let the kids stay home tomorrow? I know it's supposed to be a school day and you probably have plans to go to the center, but... do you think we could all just play hooky for a day? I just... I just really need to spend some time with my family."

It wasn't difficult for Lexa to find her wife's mouth even in the dark, and as soon as she stopped speaking her lips were against the blonde's, swallowing the request with a long, soft kiss.

"I think that's a great idea, Clarke," she answered when the kiss finally ended. "I'll call the schools in the morning to let them know they won't be there and then I'll call Ryder. We'll spend the day together."

Clarke nodded, a knot loosening in her chest she hadn't known was there, and then she closed her eyes as she let her body sink into Lexa's. A family day was exactly what the doctor needed, and she loved that Lexa knew that and immediately jumped on board; she really had married the perfect woman.

/

A Few Days Later

Lexa rubbed at her temples as she stood at the sink, trying to get bits of last night's dinner out of the pots and pans they'd left on the stove. She'd known she was going to regret not letting them soak over night but the kids had been with her father and she and Clarke were having a date night. At the time, Clarke's lips had been far more important than worrying about casserole crusting along the edges of its pan. The corners of her lips curled up just a bit, thinking back to exactly how well that date night had gone and knew she'd made the right choice, she was just a little cranky at the moment due to the headache that had been growing along her temples for the past hour. A nap would probably help but unfortunately school had ended nearly two hours ago and not only were her own kids around but so were Emma and Jonas. At the moment she could hear all five of them in the living room, the noise from their video game easily echoing into the kitchen.

"Guys can you turn that down a little?" she called, glancing over her shoulder towards the doorway. "There's no way you need it that loud."

"Sorry Ma," she heard Calvin call back and then it did turn down though just barely. She let out a sigh as she shook her head but got back to dealing with her dishes, muttering to them as she did. "I will get you clean whether you like it or not."

Fifteen minutes later she was drying her hands and smirking to herself at the perfectly clean pots and pans laid out on towels on the counter as the water finally drained from the sink. Tucking the towel back through the handle of the oven, she looked over to the door leading to the living room again when she heard what sounded like a small explosion and then cheering. Quirking an eyebrow at all the noise she made her way over and leaned against the door frame.

Skylar sat on the floor, a coloring book in front of her with a number of crayons but she didn't seem particularly interested in it, instead watching the figures moving around on the screen. Pauna laid across the room leaning against the wall, looking as though she were asleep though as Lexa watched she saw the dog's eyes open, peer around the room, and then close again. Emma and Calvin shared the couch, Calvin with a controller in his hands and Emma just watched, clearly caught somewhere between faking an interest and very bored. Tris and Jonas were each in a chair, also both holding a controller and they appeared to be fully invested in the game. The game was one Auntie Raven had gotten Calvin for his last birthday and as far as Lexa could tell really only consisted of shooting people, both the other characters in the game and each other.

"Better watch out Tris, I'm gonna get ya," Jonas baited, a big grin on his face as he stared at the screen. The girl's eyes narrowed but she didn't look away from her corner of the TV, telling him, "Just try it; we'll see who gets the first shot in."

"You do realize you're both losing right?" Emma asked, shooting her brother and Tris a look. "Cal's got way more kills than either of you." Calvin just smirked and a second later his character's gun fired again and they all heard the theatrical sound effect of someone getting hit by a bullet and going down.

Lexa shifted where she stood, for some reason feeling uneasy. Neither she or Clarke had been entirely impressed with Raven's gift but had decided to let it go and let Calvin play it, knowing they'd both also played similar style video games when they were his age. She wasn't entirely sure she liked Tris playing it and she really wasn't happy Sky was in the room too, but whatever this feeling was felt like it was more than just thinking they were too young for it. The feeling wasn't any clearer than that and she really couldn't decipher it any better, she just knew something about this felt off to her. Deciding she would analyze whatever it was later, she pushed off of the door frame and stepped down into the room.

"Hey guys," she greeted and Emma was the only one to look over to her, the other four all still glued to the TV. She raised an eyebrow but let it go and moved over to the couch, plopping down on the other side of Emma. "You've been playing this game for a while."

"It's fun," Calvin replied, only looking away from the screen long enough to flash her a smile. "We like it."

"Go go go!" Tris exclaimed, leaning forward in her chair while Jonas frantically pressed some buttons on his controller. "Run dude, run!" His character apparently wasn't able to run fast enough because the next moment Tris's shot and his fell to the ground. He let out a loud groan as his head fell back against his chair, waiting for his screen to reload. "Told ya I'd get ya," Tris goaded him, a smug grin on her face. He made a face at her and went right back to the game as soon as his character was once again on the screen.

Watching it all, Lexa made a decision. "Alright guys, I think it's time for something else," she stated as she stood up, hands going to her hips. "Why don't we find a game to play?"

Tris's expression scrunched up, not looking over at her mother. "Why? We're playing a game already." Lexa raised an eyebrow, a little annoyed she couldn't look away from the TV long enough to even argue with her. "Because you've been playing this game for a while and it's time to find something different. Something everyone can do." She glanced down at Skylar on the floor, still entranced by the screen. "And because I really don't think this game is appropriate for your sister to be watching."

"But I like it, Mama," the six-year-old protested, big eyes looking up at the mother. She'd learned over the years that those big eyes could get her just about anything, but in this Lexa wasn't going to budge. "You might like it, but that still doesn't make it appropriate."

No one moved to turn off the game or even really indicated they'd been listening and the brunette grit her jaw. She knew she was about to turn into the parent everyone hated but she had to go there: without saying another word she moved over to the TV and pressed the power button along its side. The screen went black and suddenly three pairs of bewildered eyes turned on her.

"Why'd you do that?!" Tris demanded, glaring at her. "I was gonna get another shot," Jonas whined, sighing in despair. Calvin didn't say anything but the glare he shot at his mother was all she needed to know she'd probably just lost the Mother of the Year award.

"I told you guys, find something else to do," she told them firmly, not crumbling beneath their looks. "You've been playing this long enough." Looking down at Skylar she jerked her head, gesturing to the door leading to the garage. "Sky, how about we go throw the ball for Pauna? Look, she's feeling lonely." The moment she heard the word "ball" the dog's head perked up and she looked up at the mother, flashing her a big doggie grin. Skylar sighed but nodded and pushed herself up, her own lips turning up into a small smile as Pauna sauntered over to her and butted her head against the girl's side.

Jonas watched Pauna join Skylar and then looked up at Lexa, asking, "If Sky's outside can we play the game?" The youngest girl frowned at that, obviously feeling left out, and Tris shot a glare at her best friend who immediately looked sheepish. Lexa simply rose her eyebrows, telling them evenly, "No. You guys can take a break from the game. Find something else." Jonas nodded, apparently knowing better than to try to argue anymore, while Calvin sighed and Emma shrugged. As Lexa led Skylar and the dog outside she heard the four older kids start arguing over what to do next. Shaking her head as a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, Lexa left them to figure out what to do without their beloved video game.

Hours later after Jonas and Emma had left and her kids had gone to bed, that feeling of uneasiness lingered in Lexa's gut as she sat up in bed, half listening to whatever Clarke was saying. The blonde had gotten home early enough to make dinner with Tris and help all three kids with their homework and then the two mothers had lazed around for a couple of hours before making their way to their own bedroom, and during that entire time Lexa had been thinking. It had taken a while for her to identify why she had such a problem with the video game all of a sudden, but now she'd figured it out and come up with a solution. A solution she knew without a doubt Clarke was not going to like, and so was trying to wait for the right time to bring it up.

"Bellamy and Echo and the baby are visiting O this weekend," Clarke was saying, and Lexa focused her attention back on her wife. "I invited them over on Saturday. Figured we could do something for lunch since we haven't seen them for a while." Pajama pants were pulled up pale legs and the brunette watched them go, hating them for a second for hiding Clarke's skin from her. The other woman turned around from where she was standing on the other side of the room and must have seen where Lexa's eyes had lingered since she gave the brunette a knowing look, a small smirk forming. "We'll need to get the baby gate out of the attic though; Bellamy says now that River has figured out what her legs are for she never stops."

"I can get it down tomorrow," Lexa agreed, giving her a little nod and Clarke flashed a smile back at her. "Even with it though you know Bellamy isn't going to let her go more than a foot or two away from him." The blonde let out what sounded suspiciously like a snort as she raised her eyebrows and grinned. To absolutely no one's surprise Bellamy was the definition of over protective father, hardly ever letting his thirteen-month-old daughter out of his sight. That amused no one more than it did Echo, who had started posting daily "Over Protective Father" pictures to social media for everyone to see. Lexa hadn't been expecting it when the two started dating a few months after Echo had moved to Arkadia, but she had to admit they made a good looking family.

"You are so right," Clarke said before she flopped down on the bed on her back, now staring up at the ceiling. She let out a long sigh, her eyes closing. "Sometimes I think he was born to be a father and others I wonder what the universe was thinking, giving him a daughter. I always thought he was protective of Octavia but that's nothing compared to what he's like with River. I feel bad for the first person she tries to date." She thought for a second, her head tilting to the side, and then added, "And every person after, actually."

Lexa's lips pulled up into a thin smile. "Luckily they both have a few years still to prepare for that obstacle. And by then maybe he will have calmed down some." Clarke's head tilted back, flashing her a look and the brunette shrugged. "Or not."

"Hey, I'm still waiting for the day Calvin comes home and tells us he's dating someone," Clarke replied evenly. Fighting against a grin and losing, she continued, "I still have twenty bucks down saying you're not gonna take it well." Lexa lifted her chin up, meeting blue eyes evenly despite the twitch she could feel at the corner of her lips. "I look forward to winning that twenty." Clarke scoffed again, shaking her head this time as she rolled over onto her stomach, tucking her arms beneath her chin to prop her head up.

Seeing her wife like this, Lexa thought this may be as good a time as any to get her thoughts out. She hesitated for just a second, knowing full well Clarke wasn't going to like what she had to say, but then pushed forward anyway.

"The kids were playing the game Raven got Calvin for his birthday this afternoon," she started, hoping to ease into her idea by changing the conversation. Clarke rolled her eyes, her grin falling away into annoyance. "Gotta say, I'm still not impressed she got him that. I know he's thirteen and growing up but he still seems young for it. And Tris and Skylar are definitely too young to play it."

"Well Skylar wasn't playing it," Lexa reassured her, and then admitted, "Though she was watching. And Tris was playing." Clarke didn't look entirely happy but she just shrugged. "Maybe we should talk to them all, remind them that game isn't appropriate for the girls. It's going to piss off Tris though."

Lexa nodded, though at the moment Tris wasn't the one she was concerned about pissing off. Nevertheless she powered through, saying hesitantly, "The game actually got me thinking..." She trailed off and Clarke looked at her, lifting one eyebrow as though telling her to continue so Lexa did, deciding to bite the bullet and just get her thoughts out. "I don't like that their only real, and I use that term loosely in this case, association with guns is that video game. Well, video games and movies, I guess. I don't like that they see these characters get shot and then come back to life in a few seconds. It's not... right."

Clarke pushed herself up slowly, frowning a little as she eyed Lexa, clearly trying to read whatever was on her mind. Only once she was sitting up did she break the short silence, saying, "Okay. So what do you want to do about it?" Lexa bit her lip, a nervous habit she'd long ago picked up from her wife, and watched Clarke carefully as she replied, "I want to teach them how to properly handle a gun. I was thinking I would take them to the shooting range this weekend and show them what it's like to hold a real gun instead of just a controller for a game."

There was a second or two of silence while the two women stared at each other, and when it came Clarke's refusal was cold and absolute.

"No," she just said, her voice hard. "Absolutely not." Lexa's eyes widened; while she certainly hadn't been expecting a positive reaction, Clarke's expression and the tone in her voice shocked her nevertheless. She opened her mouth to say something but the blonde was busy shaking her head and didn't appear to notice. "You are not taking them anywhere near a shooting range and you are definitely not giving them a loaded gun. What are you thinking, Lexa? How can you want to do that?"

"I'm thinking they should all know how to act around a live weapon, Clarke," the brunette responded, trying not to take her wife's tone personally. She knew the other woman's aversion to weapons and guns especially, but she didn't back down. "They should be familiar with guns so that they know how to safely use one if they ever have to."

"They're never going to have to!" Clarke cried, jumping up from the bed and to Lexa it looked almost like she now towered over the mattress. Her clenched fists shook down at her sides but she didn't appear to notice it, too busy burning holes through the brunette's skull with her withering glare. "There is no reason any of them ever need to be around any guns!"

"Clarke," Lexa tried, standing up as well though her hands reached out gently as though the motion might help calm her furious wife. The gesture did nothing but maybe make the blonde even more mad as she stepped back roughly, purposefully putting herself outside the length of Lexa's reach. "I'm sorry, but that's foolish. Guns are a part of our world. Maybe not our family's every day life, but it's very likely that any one of our children could encounter them at some point as they grow up. If they do, they need to know how to safely be around them."

"The safest way to deal with guns is to stay away from them!" Clarke nearly shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. She then pointed at Lexa, telling her furiously, "I know that! I see it all the time! Do you have any idea how many people I've operated on because of guns? You know Lexa, you know!" Her hands began shaking again, but this time she stepped forward, invading her wife's space but the brunette didn't step back, didn't retreat. She stood her ground, suddenly feeling very much like a soldier refusing to give up their ground in the face of an enemy who could crush them. "Four days ago. Four days, I operated on and lost a seven-year-old. He was seven, and he died from two gunshot wounds!"

"But that's exactly my point, Clarke," Lexa nearly begged, wanting her to understand. "Your patient was a young boy who died because he and his brother weren't taught how to act around guns. Maybe they too had only ever seen them in movies or games and thought it was a toy. There are so many other problems with what happened to him but that is one of them, Clarke!"

"Our kids know not to play with real guns," the blonde got out from between clenched teeth, and Lexa could see fury and pain battling for dominance in blue eyes that practically burned in the low light. She'd seen Clarke mad before, maybe even this mad, but there was an awe-inspiring terror that still managed to creep up her spine whenever she saw it. Despite that she held firm, refusing to back down. This was too important, meant far too much to give in to just because her wife was angry.

"Maybe they do," she agreed softly with a small nod. "But just knowing not to play with them isn't enough." Clarke's jaw clenched and Lexa let out an aggravated sigh. "Guns are not inherently bad, Clarke!" she growled, now pushed passed trying to keep her own anger from growing. It pooled in her stomach and then began the slow crawl up her spine, burning away the terror her wife caused. "You act as though they're these terrible things!"

"Guns kill people, Lexa," Clarke growled right back, eyes flashing and the brunette shook her head roughly. "Guns are just tools, Clarke, like anything else," she argued. "Yes, they can kill people, but so can anything else." She looked around a little frantically, trying to find something to help prove her point, and found the framed picture of the two of them on their wedding day that hung on the wall opposite their bed. Pointing to it, she said, "That picture frame could be used to kill someone, and we have dozens of them hanging up throughout the house!"

She knew it was a bad example, and was already shaking her head when Clarke bit back, "Yeah well I've had many more people wheeled into my operating room because of bullet wounds than because they were attacked with a picture frame!" Lexa had to physically bite her tongue to keep herself from throwing some kind of retort back, and ended up closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a few deep breaths. When her eyes opened again Clarke was still only a few feet in front of her, a scorching glare turned on her.

"I didn't want to start a fight," the brunette said, making sure her tone was even and controlled, though even she could hear the cool undertone to it. "I think it's important for our children to understand the reality of guns and how to safely use one. I was hoping you would understand but it's alright if you don't. I'm still going to talk to them about this tomorrow, and this weekend I'm going to take them to the shooting range."

Clarke's nostrils flared, her fists trembled and her eyes scanned across Lexa's face, probably looking for a way to win this fight. "They're too young," she told her but the brunette just gave a little shrug. "I was younger than Tris is now when I learned how to fire a gun." Apparently the other woman couldn't think of a come back to that, though Lexa could see her desperately trying to, could practically see her mind racing, and then Clarke shook her head. Without a word she stomped over to her side of the bed and grabbed her pillow and Lexa's brow furrowed, confused. The blonde turned around so her back was to her wife and then shot back as she made her way to the door, "I'm sleeping on the couch tonight." With that Clarke left the room, pulling the door closed again behind her and Lexa was pretty sure the only thing that kept her from slamming it was their three sleeping children just down the hall.

For a long second Lexa stared at the closed door, her eyes wide and mind a little numb. In all their years of marriage she could count on one hand the number of nights one of them spent on the couch, and most of those hadn't gone the full night anyway. More often than not after a few hours the angry party in the living room would make her way back to their bed, crawling in beside the other person and murmuring a sweet or gruff apology depending on how they were feeling by that point. By the time morning came around it always ended with the two just as entangled as any other night, pillows shared and legs pressed together. She wanted this to be like any of those nights, though honestly what she really wanted was for the door to open in the next moment and Clarke to slip back in looking a little sheepish for having lost her temper so badly. Despite how long Lexa stared at the door though it didn't open, and she didn't hear any footsteps on the other side of it to make her think it would.

Finally letting out a long, dejected sigh, the brunette turned back to the bed, glaring at it. Alone it looked huge, far too big for just one person, and Lexa wondered if maybe it would swallow her up when she got back in. It didn't as she slipped back beneath the covers, it remained as nothing more than a mattress, blankets and a few pillows, but still it didn't feel right. Clenching her jaw and trying to ignore just how alone she felt, she turned and switched off her lamp before laying down. As she pulled the covers over her shoulders she stared up at the dark ceiling, entirely aware she wouldn't be able to fall asleep for a long while. She just hoped in that time the door would creak open and Clarke would slip back to her. They would both apologize and then hold each other, and maybe this ache suddenly pounding in Lexa's chest would go away.

She could only hope.

/

A Few Days Later

At the sound of the doorbell, Pauna took off from where she'd been laying at Clarke's feet, letting out a little buff as she quickly trotted through the kitchen and to the front door. Skylar jumped up from the blonde's lap to follow right along after the dog, grinning from ear to ear and the mother quickly joined them, leaving the book she'd been reading to her youngest daughter lying on the couch. The six-year-old excitedly reached for the doorknob, pulling it open, and Clarke found one of her oldest friends standing on her doorstep, his lips curled up into their usual half smirk. Thirteen-month-old River balanced on her father's hip, the little fingers of one hand tucked securely into Bellamy's floppy hair as she eyed this new place. Echo stood beside her boyfriend and daughter, a diaper bag that looked like it might be carrying a few tons of supplies slung casually over her shoulder.

"Uncle Bellamy!" Skylar cried, smiling brightly up at him before she looked over at the baby. "Wow River got really big." Moving right along, she flashed her big smile to the woman and added, "Hi Echo!"

"Hi Skylar," Echo replied, giving her a smile right back as the young girl moved over just enough for them to come into the house. Bellamy reached out and ruffled her hair lightly, making her giggle, and then looked up at her mother. "Hey Clarke, good to see you. Thanks for inviting us over." His grin grew a little, something twinkling in his eye as he added, "We've only been at Octavia's for a day and I'm already feeling a little nuts. There really shouldn't be that many people in one house."

Clarke returned his grin, telling him, "You're welcome, though there's almost as many people here." Pauna nuzzled up against her thigh and the blonde gave her a look. "There's more even, if you count Pauna and Panther." The dog licked lightly at her fingertips as she tried to pet her, as though wondering how anyone could not count them and Clarke shook her head at the silly animal that was her first baby.

"Yeah well there's a difference between your house and hers," Bellamy told her as he stepped further inside. "I love my nieces and nephews, but Andy and Liv definitely have O's energy." Clarke nodded, entirely aware of how much the twins took after their mother, and turned around to lead the way into the kitchen. "Trust me, I totally get it."

As the group filtered in to the room, Echo looked around. "Where are Heda and the kids? Are they ready?" Clarke didn't look back at them, trying to keep her tone perfectly even as she replied, "They're upstairs. Should be down any time." Out of the corner of her eye she could see the other woman nod before she pulled the strap of the diaper bag from over her shoulder, setting it down on the island. "Alright well then Blake hand over my daughter." Bellamy grudgingly handed River over to her and Clarke watched as the mother and daughter grinned at each other, the baby babbling at her the entire time. The hard knot she'd felt in her chest ever since she woke up that morning loosened just a little at the sight. Sitting on one of the stools, she pulled Skylar over to her and hoisted her up on her lap, grunting a little as she did.

"Sky you're getting way too big," she muttered and when her daughter turned a little to look at her she gave her a small smile. "Do me a favor and stop growing up so fast." The little girl giggled and shook her head roughly. "I don't wanna stop growing Mumma! I wanna get big so I can go on adventures like Tris and Cal." Clarke's arms tightened just a bit around her middle and her grin fell a little, possibly too quickly for anyone to really notice.

For the past three days she and Lexa had argued about this "adventure", and while Clarke couldn't convince her wife going to the shooting range was a bad idea she could at least put her foot down about Skylar being involved and had. Lexa hadn't argued about that part of it too hard, possibly thinking the same thing or at least willing to give the blonde something, and when Sky had found out her siblings were going somewhere without her she'd pouted and flashed her big hazel eyes at her parents. Clarke had refused to bend, and in the end the only thing that had appeased the little girl was the reminder she'd get to play with River and Uncle Bellamy while Calvin and Tris were gone.

"We'll have our own adventures today," she promised before pressing a loud kiss to her cheek and making the little girl's nose scrunch up as she shook her head playfully. Bellamy winked at her and nodded. "Oh, definitely." That made Sky beam, happy to at least be doing something fun.

Three sets of foot steps coming from the hallway made Bellamy and Echo look up, but Clarke kept her eyes on her youngest daughter for a second longer, the knot in her chest re-forming to its full strength. When she did look she found Calvin and Tris entering the room, Tris grinning excitedly and Cal standing calmly beside her, with Lexa stopped right behind them. Blue eyes flicked down to the case Lexa held easily in one hand, and suddenly it was hard to swallow past the swirl of emotions she felt. The brunette's handgun was locked securely inside she knew, along with all the ammo they would need for their outing, and Clarke hated it. She could feel Lexa's eyes on her but she didn't meet them as she just stared for a moment at the case.

"Hey there you three," Echo greeted them, turning around with her daughter still in her arms. "You ready?"

"Yup," Tris agreed happily, practically bouncing on her feet. "Let's go!" Calvin just nodded beside her. Skylar slipped down off of her mother's lap to run over to the other one and grabbed the brunette's pant leg, turning her big eyes up at her. "Are you sure I can't go?"

"Yes we're sure," Clarke answered for Lexa, still not looking at her wife. Instead she followed Skylar over to them and stopped in front of Tris and Calvin. Giving them both a look, she told them seriously, "You two listen to your mother, got it? Absolutely no fooling around, and you do whatever she or Echo tells you to." Tris rolled her eyes and she thought she saw Calvin let out a silent sigh, as though she were telling them something so obvious they didn't know why she was bothering, but both nodded.

"We will Mum," Calvin told her, and then hugged her back briefly when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Tris returned the hold as well, muttering a quiet, "Duh," as she did.

At any other time, Clarke probably would have smiled a little at her ten-year-old's attitude, but today she was too focused to do so. She finally looked up, immediately meeting Lexa's eyes and finding green watching her even as her hand lay gently against Skylar's shoulder. Clarke could see understanding in those eyes, an understanding she kind of hated at this moment, but she didn't say anything about it. She wondered for a second if Lexa could read her silent warning to keep their babies safe but when her wife gave a subtle nod she knew she could. Clarke returned it and then stepped back, taking Skylar with her.

While the Griffin-Woods family split off into two groups Echo shifted River back over to Bellamy, giving her daughter a few kisses before pulling away. "We'll be back before long. She's got a bottle in the bag and a few other snacks packed away," she informed him as they switched the baby over. "But she ate at Octavia's before we left, so she shouldn't be hungry for at least another hour or two."

"I know," Bellamy said with a nod, returning his daughter's grin when she looked up at him. "She should be fine, but I packed a B-A-N-A-N-A-S. If she wants a snack, I'll give her some of that." Echoed smirked, her eyes soft as she looked at her baby, and replied, "Yep, that'll keep her happy."

"Mommy!" River called out with a happy laugh, her arms stretching out towards her mother, and Echo grinned before giving her another kiss to her forehead. "Be good for Daddy," she told the baby as Bellamy bounced her lightly and she just shrieked, looking up at him. The mother gave them both one last look and then turned and followed Lexa and the two older kids out of the house to start on their adventure. Clarke forced herself not to watch them go, fully aware the gnawing she felt in her gut was nothing but a foolish kind of worry she shouldn't be feeling but unable to do anything to alleviate it. Instead she decided to ignore it and turned her focus back to Bellamy and the two girls, gesturing towards the living room and leading the way in.

For a while she and Bellamy played with Skylar and River. They got Skylar's old blocks out and built towers that River liked to knock over, always giggling as they tumbled to the floor. Sky let the baby chase her around and then brought down some of her stuffed animals, though when River began chewing on an elephant's ear the six-year-old quickly took her favorites and moved them where the baby couldn't reach them, something that didn't seem to bother River at all since she still had the elephant. At Skylar's insistence Bellamy gave her a piggy back ride all throughout the first floor and Clarke grinned as she listened to her youngest daughter's laughter, following behind with River at a much slower rate as the baby tried to keep up with her father on legs that hadn't been walking for much more than a month. Finally Clarke put Lilo and Stitch in, Skylar's favorite movie, and before long River had fallen asleep with Sky looking like she wouldn't be far behind. Only about twenty minutes into the movie, Clarke and Bellamy left the kids in the living room and migrated to the kitchen.

"You know, I never fully appreciated nap time until River came along," Bellamy remarked lightly as he sat at the island, flashing his smirk at the blonde. "And now it's one of the best times of the day."

Clarke returned the smirk, letting out a little chuckle as she moved over to the cupboard to grab a cup. "It's definitely not given enough credit," she agreed, and then looked back at him over her shoulder. "Thirsty? Want some water?"

"Sure," he said with a nod and she grabbed a second cup before moving over to the sink and turning the cold water on. As she filled both cups she saw him yawn out of the corner of her eye and joked, "What's the matter Bellamy, fatherhood more exhausting than you thought it would be?"

"Yes," he answered immediately, nodding a silent thank you to her as she handed him one of the cups. As she sank into the stool beside him, he added, "I mean, I knew it was going to be hard and everyone tells you that, but you're still not ready for it. She's more than a year old and I'm still figuring out this dad thing."

Clarke scoffed as she took a sip of water, just managing not to choke on it. "Please, Cal's thirteen and I'm still learning the mom thing."

"I have more respect for Octavia and Lincoln now than I ever have before," Bellamy said with a shake of his head. "It's hard enough with just the one, I can't even imagine having four kids." Gesturing to the blonde, he added, "Or three like you. You and Lexa are pretty damn impressive."

At her wife's name, thoughts about where the other woman and their two oldest kids were at the moment came rushing back, and she felt her lips purse. "Mm," she just got out, staring down at her cup and trying not to think about it.

Bellamy studied her for a second, his goofy expression falling away as he read whatever it was that suddenly flashed across her face. He knew Clarke nearly as well as anyone, and definitely knew when something wasn't right. He thought he noticed it earlier when the others were leaving but hadn't been entirely sure, but now there was no question that something was off. He waited for a moment to see if she'd say anything, and then tried, "So... wanna talk about it?"

That snapped the blonde's attention back to him and she looked up, clearly trying to hide whatever was going on behind a blank expression. "What do you mean?"

"Don't even try it, Clarke," he told her, giving her an amused look. "I know you nearly as well as my own sister; something's going on with you and Lexa and I know it. You're really not that great at hiding how you're feeling."

She scowled, but didn't say anything for a minute, refusing to immediately give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He just kept staring at her though, even going so far as to raise an eyebrow at her, and finally she rolled her eyes. "You're not exactly good at it either," she muttered and he grinned, telling her, "Yeah I know, but right now I'm not the one pretending everything's fine when I'm obviously pissed about something. Now talk." She sighed but then begrudgingly gave in.

"We've been fighting for the past few days," she admitted, and that surprised him enough that his grin dropped away. "I don't like that she took Calvin and Tris to learn how to shoot a gun and she did it anyway."

He waited for a second, clearly thinking there must be more, and when she didn't continue prodded, "And...? There's got to be more to it than that."

"She knows how much I hate guns!" she suddenly exclaimed, only keeping her voice down so she wouldn't disturb the kids in the other room. She turned to glare at him, saying, "She knows, and she did it anyway! Tris is only ten, she doesn't need to be around guns, and Cal isn't much older! There isn't any reason he needs to be near them either! But it doesn't matter that I hate this, she did it anyway!"

"Yeah but... Clarke," he replied, frowning slightly, "There's got to be more to it than that. Lexa would never do anything that would upset you unless she had a really good reason."

"There is no reason that a kid should be around guns," she snapped, her glare intensifying and Bellamy held up his hands in a kind of peace treaty. "Well yeah, no, you're right, but Lexa knows that. And it's not like they went to play with them or anything, she and Echo are just teaching them the basics." Clarke shook her head roughly, gritting her jaw and then looked away from him, glaring at the wall. He watched her for a second and then said, "So I take it this is a pretty big fight?" She was silent and then admitted without looking at him still, "We haven't even slept in the same bed for three nights."

His eyes widened and she tried not to look past him into the living room. That first night she had tossed and turned on the couch, too upset and feeling out of place to be able to sleep. The next night when she made it clear she didn't intend to sleep in their bed yet again Lexa had given her this lost, sad look that had torn at Clarke's chest despite her anger and then walked by her, offering to take the couch so she could be rested for her shift at the hospital the next day. Last night the brunette had done the same thing even though she didn't work today and Clarke had come temptingly close to telling her to stay in their room, desperately missing her wife but still too angry to give in. She thought that maybe at least Calvin guessed something was going on even though they'd both made sure to have any evidence of their night on the couch hidden away by the time any of the kids woke up. He hadn't said anything, but she was pretty sure she'd noticed him watching them more closely than usual, and the fact that their fight might be affecting him had made her more careful with how she acted around the other woman when he or either of the other two were around.

"Uh, don't you think maybe that's a little extreme?" Bellamy asked, still giving her a look. "I mean, they're just guns Clarke." Blue eyes flew back to him and his brow shot up at the look she shot him. "Guns kill people, Bellamy," she growled, anger flashing across her face but he didn't let it or her tone get to him. Instead he just scoffed, replying, "No, people kill people, Clarke, you know that. A gun's just a tool, that's all." A cry in the other room caught their attention and he glanced over his shoulder before standing up. Looking back at her, he continued, "If you ask me, you're mad over nothing. Like 'em or hate 'em, guns are just guns and you know there's no one better to teach your kids how to use one than Lexa. She'd never let anything bad happen to Cal or Tris, and neither would Echo. You're sitting here pissed while they're learning something that might actually come in handy one day." He shrugged as he turned around and began making his way to the living room, where they could still hear his daughter crying for him. "I'm just saying Clarke, maybe it's time to let this one go."

She glared at him as he disappeared into her living room, hating that she knew he was right.

/

When Lexa turned into her driveway Sunday morning, tiny beads of perspiration trickling down the side of her face from her run, she was surprised to find Clarke sitting in the car, apparently waiting for her. She slowed down, eyeing the car and blonde suspiciously, but then cautiously approached the driver's side of the vehicle where her wife sat. She and Clarke still had barely talked even after they got back from the shooting range the previous day, so she had no idea what was going on. To the best of her knowledge the doctor didn't have a shift at the hospital or any errands planned, so she had absolutely no idea what Clarke was doing just sitting in the car.

"Clarke?" she asked hesitantly, eyeing first the car and then the house and then back to the blonde. "What are you doing?"

"Get in," her wife just said, not giving any further explanation as she started the car. Lexa's eyes widened and then looked back to the house. "Uh Clarke, the kids?" She could already tell none of their kids were in the car, and when she'd left the house an hour or so ago Calvin had been sitting in his corner working on a new comic and Tris and Skylar had been watching cartoons. Calvin may be thirteen, but she wasn't sure she was quite ready to leave him in charge of both his little sisters, especially when she had no idea where they were going or how long they'd be gone for.

Apparently her fears were unnecessary. "Raven picked them up a few minutes ago," the other woman answered, eyes moving back and forth between Lexa and the front windshield, as though she couldn't look at the brunette for very long without needing to look away. "They're hanging out with her until we get back and then she's coming over for dinner as payment."

At that Lexa hesitated for only an instant longer before mentally shrugging and moving over to the passenger's side and getting in. Despite the strangeness of the moment, she knew Clarke must have a good reason for whatever this was, so she decided to just go along with it. Settling into her seat she grabbed her seat belt, and as she finished pulling it across her she saw the blonde move out of the corner of her eye, and then she was handing Lexa a water bottle, one that had clearly just come out of the fridge. The brunette flashed her a small smile of thanks and accepted it before uncapping it and taking a few long sips, closing her eyes as the cold water quenched the thirst she'd built up during her run. Clarke just nodded back, something in her eyes seeming to soften even though she didn't look at Lexa, and then she was pulling out of the driveway.

They drove in relative silence, the only sound breaking through coming from the radio and traffic around them as they made their way into and through the busier parts of the city. For a few minutes Lexa debated asking where they were going but chose not to, figuring she would find out when they got there and deciding to just sit in the almost peaceful quiet between them. There was still an edge to it, a feeling she couldn't quite shake she'd seldom felt before between herself and her wife, but it wasn't as heavy as it had been over the past couple of days. Something in Clarke's demeanor had shifted and Lexa decided it was best not to push at it in the hopes things might somehow fall back into normalcy.

Lexa didn't ask where they were going and Clarke never offered it up, so when the blonde pulled the car into a parking lot very familiar to the brunette, Lexa's brow furrowed in utter confusion. It wasn't a place she'd been to often but it was somewhere she'd been recently, and she had absolutely no idea why she was back and least of all why Clarke had brought her but the other woman continued to say nothing as she parked the car and turned off the ignition. Grabbing the keys she turned around, reaching for something behind Lexa's seat, and the brunette's eyes widened in further surprise when Clarke pulled out the case she stored her gun in. She looked down at the black case, worrying her lip a little, and then looked up to meet Lexa's look and just pushed her door open. "Come on."

"Clarke," Lexa tried, scrambling a little to get out of the car and figure out what was going on. She rounded the car at the same time as her wife, and didn't hesitate to lightly grab her elbow. "What are we doing here? Why do you have my gun?" The blonde met her eyes, her suddenly determined expression not shifting as green quickly scanned along her face and simply answered, "You're going to teach me how to shoot."

She stepped forward at that, Lexa's grip slipping from her elbow, and it seemed to take a few seconds for the information to fully process for her wife because she was already a few steps away when Lexa had to hurry to catch up, once again reaching out. "I'm what?" the brunette asked, clear confusion obvious in both her face and voice, and Clarke glanced over at her, trying to pretend this was all entirely natural and that her heart wasn't beating a little wildly in her chest. "You're going to teach me how to use your gun, Lexa."

"Clarke, you hate guns," she argued, now keeping in perfect step with her wife but no less confused. "You've been mad at me for days because I wanted to teach our kids how to use them, and now you want to know too? This doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't need to make sense," Clarke insisted as she stared forward, nearing the gun range. This was an inside range but even so ever since she'd turned the car off she'd been able to hear the low popping of gunshots, and the closer they got to the building the louder the noise became. She swallowed down the nerves she felt growing at the sounds and just kept going forward, forcing herself not to slow down. She'd decided this needed to happen and wasn't going to let herself run away, even if Lexa was right about her hating guns. These things had driven a wedge between them long enough, a wedge she knew was entirely her own fault, and she wasn't about to let it go any further.

Despite her own determination, Lexa seemed equally determined not to let her do something she clearly didn't want to do. Her grip on the blonde's arm tightened, pulling her to a stop as she insisted, "Clarke, wait." Clarke decided not to fight back and stopped, turning to look at her wife and felt the nerves wrestling in her stomach settle just a little at the worry she could see in Lexa's eyes as she once again scanned her face. "Whatever this is, you don't need to do it. We can go back to the car and just... drive around, if you want. Find some place to talk. I'm not going to make you do something that will make you uncomfortable."

Her wife's words finally managed to break through the weird funk she'd been feeling over the past few days and Clarke actually felt her lips curl up into a small, genuine smile. Reaching down, her free hand slipped into Lexa's, and she saw both the surprise and relief flash briefly across the brunette's face.

"I know," she murmured, feeling almost as though her body were being drawn to Lexa, as though the minimal amount of space between them was simultaneously shrinking and growing all at once. "You're pretty great like that. But this is something I want to do." When one of Lexa's eyebrows rose, clearly disbelieving, Clarke squeezed her hand. "I mean it, Lexa. We can find somewhere to talk after, but I want to do this." The brunette studied her for another moment and then nodded slowly, and with another small smile Clarke let her hand drop before turning back around and walking towards the gun range.

Inside, they set themselves up at one row, feeling disconnected from the few other people already there and shooting which was exactly how Clarke wanted it. Lexa took the case from her and unlocked it, pulling first the protective eyewear and earplugs she'd put in there the day before for herself and the kids out, handing a pair of glasses and set of earplugs to her wife. Once finished with that she picked up the Glock and quickly loaded it, Clarke watching the whole time. The two then stepped between the dividers and Lexa handed the gun to the blonde, showing her the best way to hold it.

With the earplugs and gunfire all around them, Lexa couldn't easily tell Clarke how to use the weapon, but she didn't need to. The blonde could feel her wife's instruction in her movements, heard the silent words she would have otherwise said through her touch. Lexa shaped her arms, showing her how to hold them, pressed lightly against her left wrist and Clarke could hear the nonexistent "Relax." A light touch of her other hand to the space between other woman's shoulder blades had the tension Clarke had been carrying in them melting away and she fell into a sort of zen state of listening to her wife's touches. Her heart still leaped the first time she pulled the trigger and the gun jumped to life in her hands, the short but loud bang hitting her eardrums despite the earplugs, but Lexa's arms lightly around her steadied her. It didn't quite beat as hard the second or third time the gun went off, but it never fell back to a normal tempo either. Sweat trickled down the side of her face, only partially due to the slightly higher temperature inside than it was outside, but Lexa held her gently and she didn't let it get to her. She went through the entire clip and then her wife showed her how to reload another and they did it all over again.

They didn't stay for long; Lexa didn't have many clips left from their trip the day before and Clarke wasn't there to become a good shot, just to hold, use and familiarize herself with the gun. Soon they were packing it back into its case along with the eyewear and earplugs, and with a small shared smile they made their way back out of the building. As they walked Lexa's arms brushed against Clarke's, and where she hesitated, unsure if this feeling she had was all in her mind or not, Clarke didn't, slipping her fingers between the brunette's.

"Want to go for a walk?" the blonde asked, glancing over quickly out of the corner of her eye. Lexa nodded even as she held up the gun case in her other hand, telling her, "Let me just put this in the car. There's a park just down the road we could go to." Clarke returned the nod and let Lexa lead the way first to the car where they dropped off the case, sticking it behind the passenger's seat again and locking it behind them, and then they left the parking lot and headed down the street.

Once again they fell into silence as they walked, but this silence felt entirely comfortable to both of them and Lexa couldn't quite keep herself from smiling as they went. Her hand remained glued to her wife's and her chest felt lighter than it had for days and nothing else really seemed to matter other than the fact that they were together. She knew everything wasn't exactly back to normal, knew they still needed to talk about all of this, but for the moment she was happy to ignore that and just walk with Clarke. They got to the park and wandered around for a little while until Clarke led them over to a bench, and when they sat they did so with very little space left between them, their hands still practically tied together. For a few minutes they let the silence settle between them, listening to the birds flying around them and the soft whisper of the breeze blowing through the trees, and then the blonde sighed.

"I'm sorry Lexa," she said, her head rolling back so she could stare up at the leaves hanging over them as she tried to get her thoughts together. Sitting with her wife as they held on to each other was almost enough to convince her they didn't need to talk, that they could both just let the past few days go, but she knew Lexa deserved more than that even if getting her next few thoughts out would be difficult. "I'm sorry for being so... difficult. You didn't deserve any of that."

"It's alright, Clarke," Lexa began, but the moment she started talking the blonde was shaking her head. "No it's not," she told her, picking her head back up and making herself look at the brunette. "Not at all." Lexa remained quiet then, just giving her a little nod, clearly seeing she had something she needed to say and giving her the time she needed to get those thoughts in order. They swirled around Clarke's head, each one causing a fresh wave of emotion to wash through her gut, but she held that emotion back, only letting it show by the way she licked her lips, fighting it all back. She wasn't entirely sure how to get her thoughts into actual words but then she looked over to Lexa, asking her, "Did I ever tell you about the dream I had the night you told me you wanted to join the Marines?" The other woman's eyes widened and she shook her head, asking, "You mean back in high school?"

"Yeah," Clarke replied, giving a slow nod. Lexa shook her head again and the blonde tipped her head back again, her eyes closing as she thought back to it. "You remember I wasn't exactly happy about the news." She could picture the brunette nodding beside her and didn't have to open her eyes to see it. "Well that night I had a dream." Her eyebrows furrowed. "A nightmare. We were just in bed together, not really doing anything I don't think and I was really happy. I could feel that, even in the dream. But then I looked over and your eyes were closed. At first it looked like you were just sleeping, but then I touched you and your skin was cold. All of a sudden even as I was watching there was blood, just there, coming from a wound in your stomach. There was nothing I could do, you were just... gone." She paused then and knew Lexa could see the way she needed to swallow, to force back the bile of fear she felt whenever she remembered the dream. "There wasn't any gunshot or any sound at all really, it just happened and I knew I'd lost you." She went quiet then for a long moment and Lexa hesitated, unsure if she was supposed to say something to that and not really knowing what, but finally the other woman's eyes opened and she could see Clarke staring up at the sky through the leaves, her brow slightly furrowed as though she were studying something.

"I think that's really what started it," she murmured, voice soft as if she were lost in thought. "That dream. It was the first time I really had to think about what my life would be like without you, and it just... it looked so real. The blood and your cold skin..." She shook her head, maybe needing to wipe away the image from her mind's eye even in that moment. "It's a nightmare that's just never really gone away. I can't even tell you how many times I've had it. During those last few months of high school, in college and med school... even in the past couple years. It just keeps coming back." Lexa held her hand a little tighter, trying to be an anchor for Clarke; she'd figured out a while ago that some nights the other woman would have bad dreams and push herself closer to her in bed and the brunette would just hold her tighter, but she never really wanted to talk about them. It had never been difficult to imagine what they were about, not after so many years of knowing the blonde so well, but hearing Clarke finally talk about it made it more real.

"And ever since becoming a surgeon, the dream's become more vivid," she continued, the only indication she noticed Lexa's reactions coming from how she also gripped the other woman's fingers a little tighter. "I see you in front of me, bleeding to death, and there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing I try helps and I just... I lose you. And every time I just know it's a gunshot wound." She shook her head and finally looked back over at her love, and Lexa could easily see her fear bleeding to the surface just at the memory of the images. That fear could also be heard in her voice as she continued, her tone a little softer than before. "When you were in the Marines, even before we were talking again, every day I would wonder if you were safe or if that would be the day I'd find out I'd lost you forever. And I know, I know I almost did Lexa. Many times." She reached over with their connected hands, brushing a knuckle lightly over her right side, directly over where they both knew an old scar had been etched into her skin by a well-aimed bullet. Lexa's throat burned seeing the pain and fear spark in blue eyes and she wanted to lean forward, to capture Clarke's lips in her own and remind her just how alive she was and how she would always be there for her love but she could see the blonde wasn't finished yet from the way she bit her lip. Holding the impulse back, she sat patiently while Clarke searched for her next words and simply pressed her knee a little more firmly against her wife's.

For just a second Clarke stared at her wife's side, easily imaging the scar hiding beneath her shirt. She'd lost count of the number of times her fingertips had run over it or her lips had brushed against it, lost count of the number of times she'd studied it when she thought Lexa wasn't looking. She knew Lexa didn't understand why she needed to touch it so much, why she often focused on it after getting her wife out of her shirt. To Lexa it was just a scar, an old injury, but to Clarke it was beautiful, a beautiful reminder of what she had and what she almost lost. She loved it because every time she touched it it was warm and would shift beneath her fingers to remind her how very alive her wife was.

"You're right that I hate guns," she finally said, her voice low. Eyes flickering up to meet green, she brushed her thumb over the back of Lexa's hand. "And I know I probably shouldn't, not, not the way I do. They're just tools; you're right about that too. It isn't the gun's fault when someone gets shot, but that doesn't stop me-" She had to cut herself off, fire suddenly burning up the back of her throat and she could feel hot tears building in the corners of her eyes. A second hand engulfed her own and she looked down to see both of Lexa's now wrapped around hers, the brunette silently giving her all the support she needed. Blinking quickly to push the tears back, her voice was thick as she managed to get out, "When I think of you Lexa, I can't, can't breathe. I see the images, see the blood and I just..." She shook her head, unable to accurately describe it and then met Lexa's eyes, and she noticed her brow rise just a little, probably at seeing the expression on the blonde's face shift. "And then you suddenly want our kids to be around guns? Want them anywhere near where people are shooting, even if it isn't a dangerous place? I couldn't, couldn't process it." The burning in her throat grew bigger, her voice thick with it as she added, "I can't breathe when I think about losing you; I can't function when I think about losing any of them. Every week I see kids come into the hospital and so often we can't save them and I see these families break down and I just can't fathom what that would be like. And I know I need to get over it but for so long guns have meant death to me, or at least the chance of death so when you wanted to teach them I just..."

"I understand Clarke," Lexa murmured, no longer able to stay quiet. She shifted a little closer to her wife, tugging her hand onto her lap and pressed her forehead against the side of the blonde's head. She could feel Clarke sink into the touch, saw her eyes close, and ran her thumb over the other woman's knuckles. "I do. I swear my heart stops whenever I think about anything happening to you or any of the kids and only starts again when I can hold you all and prove to myself you're alright. I would do anything to protect you." She noticed the corners of the blonde's mouth turn up into a fraction of a smile and she wished she could spend an entire lifetime doing nothing but studying it. "You and them, you're the most important things in the world to me, and that's why I want you all to be safe."

"And that's why you want them to know how to use a gun," Clarke continued for her, nodding even with Lexa still pressed against her. Her eyes opened and she pulled away just enough to turn to her and Lexa could see the understanding tucked into her expression. "I get it. Maybe I still don't like it, but I get it." She let out a long sigh then and shook her head, the edges of her mouth dropping again just a little. "I shouldn't have gotten mad though, especially like that. You didn't deserve that at all and you never have." Giving her a look, her voice softened a little as she added, "You're amazing, Lexa. Always have been." Lexa felt herself smile and then leaned forward, free hand going to Clarke's face so she could cup her cheek as she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her wife's lips, the first one in far too many days. "You're amazing too, Clarke," she whispered as she pulled back, eyes shining as she continued to watch her beautiful wife. "And I understand why you were mad even if I still stick by my decision to teach Calvin and Tris how to handle a gun."

Clarke nodded, apparently in agreement, and then squeezed Lexa's hand before she lightly brushed her lips over the other woman's for barely more than a few seconds. "Come back to bed tonight?" she asked, glancing up at her wife through her eyelashes. She looked away for a second and then back, her cheeks heating up just a tad as she admitted, "I don't sleep very well when you're not there. I've missed you." Lexa's smile grew as she nodded. "I've missed you too; the couch isn't anywhere near as comfortable as our bed and your arms." Clarke let out a light chuckle, shaking her head, and then pressed a longer, more lingering kiss to the brunette's mouth.

After that the tension that had been between the two of them entirely dissolved, each now thoroughly happy to just be leaning against the other. With the gun conversation behind them they were able to move on, and soon found themselves falling into the easy comfort they'd somehow always felt with the other. Before long they were joking and laughing and then Lexa stood up, pulling Clarke up behind her. The blonde expected her to lead the way out of the park and back to the car, but instead she continued down the pathways, apparently not ready to leave yet. Clarke followed without argument, perfectly happy to have Lexa all to herself for a little while longer. They meandered through the park, taking their time to stare at the fountains and enjoy the scenery as the conversation continued to easily flow between them.

They'd stopped to lean against a thin black fence and watch some ducks swimming around in the pond at the center of the park when Clarke heard someone clear their throat behind them. Turning around, she found two men roughly their own age standing there, one grinning easily at her while the other stood just a step behind him, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. Lexa turned around also to find the two of them, and lifted an eyebrow as the one who had cleared his throat continued to grin at the blonde.

"Hey," he greeted. "My name's Sterling, this is Myles." He gestured to the other man, who gave them a weak smile. "We noticed you two ladies are alone and thought you might like some company." He flashed another grin at Clarke, quite clearly interested in more than just keeping her company, and Lexa bristled beside her, something warm and not exactly pleasant rushing through her system. Clarke's eyes flickered over the man, clearly noticing the same thing, and shook her head. "Sorry, married," she just said and the man's grin fell away for barely more than a second. "Oh," he said dumbly, and then turned to Lexa, that same grin growing again. "Well what about you?" Now it was Clarke's turn to feel something hot course through her system, the jealousy almost a welcome change from the anger that had been there for so long instead, and she took a step closer to the brunette, wrapping her arm around her waist.

"I don't think I was clear," she informed them, and then pointed between herself and Lexa with the hand not gripping lightly against the brunette's hip. "We are married. To each other. Very happily." That caused Lexa's lips to pull up into a small smile, an entirely different warmth growing in her chest and then spreading through the rest of her body as she slipped one arm around Clarke to mirror her wife's hold. Together they stared down this stranger as his eyes widened, glancing quickly between the two of them, and then he quickly took a step back.

"O-Oh," he stammered, "I didn't... Uh, okay, cool. Well then we'll just... go." He turned around and quickly walked away, apparently not even caring that he left his friend behind, just trying to put as much distance between himself and this embarrassing situation as possible. Clarke and Lexa watched him flee, probably enjoying it more than they should, but then Lexa turned back to Myles as the second man continued to stand there, shaking his head. She could see his lips curling up into a grin and lifted her head a little higher as her brow rose.

"I told him not to try," he told them, possibly reading Lexa's expression, possibly just wanting to explain. He shrugged, still grinning as he gave them a look. "But he insisted. Told him he didn't stand a chance with either of you. Now not only is his pride wounded, he's also picking up the first round of drinks tonight." As he turned around to follow his friend, he looked over his shoulder, giving them both another grin as he observed, "He's an idiot; it's clear you two are happy together."

"We are," Clarke replied, her grip tightening a little around Lexa's waist. He nodded, and then threw back at them as he began to follow his friend, "You're lucky." Lexa looked over at the blonde, the two sharing a small, almost secretive smile, and said, "We are." The man left to rejoin his friend, but neither looked away from the other to watch him go.