The Head Wound
Lexa hovered over Clarke, staring at the readymade post. All she had to do was nod her head, say yes, hell she could even shrug a little affirmation. However, she didn’t, and she stood silent for a fraction of a second too long.
“It’s okay. I won’t post it.” Instead of hitting share, Clarke quickly hit the back arrow and locked her phone.
Lexa wanted to protest, to tell Clarke it was fine. She could shout to the entire world that she thought Lexa in her element was hot, but just at that moment, Clarke’s coach came strolling in clearly wanting a word with one of her starting defenders. Lexa sighed and offered Clarke a small smile before giving the two some space.
It turned out that Clarke’s injury was just a minor sprain (that or she recovered from a severe injury at an alarmingly quick pace), and she was back on the field in only a few weeks. Lexa helped manage her physical therapy, and she would have been lying if she said that those sessions weren't the highlight of her day.
Clarke was everything Lexa had assumed she was and more. She was funny and caring and so damn smart and beautiful, and best of all, she was easy to talk to. Lexa was always in awe with how well they played off each other, and that only made her massive crush explode to universal proportions.
Which was why in the middle of one of Clarke’s games, Lexa found herself bouncing on the balls of her feet anxious as a leaf about to fall from a tree. Clarke had just challenged an opponent in the air when both players slammed their heads together and crumpled to the grass on top of one another. Clarke was gripping her forehead, and Lexa could already see the red blood dripping from between her fingers glistening sickeningly in the bright afternoon sun.
Nyko kneeled next to Clarke, and his massive frame blocked Lexa’s view. She strained her neck, trying to see if she could determine the severity of Clarke’s injury. Within just a few moments, Clarke rose to her feet, bloody gauze pressed firmly to her head, and made her way over to the sideline.
Lexa was quick to place a guiding hand on Clarke’s back and lead her to the bench. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Clarke dismissed. “You should see the other girl.”
“I can.” Lexa spared a glance down the sideline. Clarke’s opponent was bouncing up and down, ready to be subbed back in, not looking worse for wear at all. Lexa threw a very unconvinced look back at Clarke. “She’s not bleeding from the head. It looks like you came out worse here.”
“Yeah, well her forehead is way too pointy to be considered normal.”
Nyko leaned down at that moment to get a better look at the gash on her forehead. Lexa did her best to peer around his broad shoulders. He stood back up, but the gauze was firmly in place once again. “Okay, you’re done for the day.”
“What? No!” Clarke shouted, standing straight up. Lexa’s hands shot forward to catch Clarke’s shoulders and eased her back down. With a little bit of side-eye, Clarke reluctantly sat back and more calmly spoke again. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just bandage it up. I want to finish the game.”
Nyko stood strong, arms crossed over his chest. “No, you could have a concussion. Concussions are serious, Clarke.”
“I don’t have a concussion,” Clarke argued like a petulant child, and Lexa finally spoke up.
“You could.”
Clarke’s head whipped towards her with the speed of a jungle cat. Her face was a perfect picture of betrayal. “Whose side are you on?”
Lexa crossed her arms and leaned slightly forward, radiating as much authority as she could. “The side that doesn’t have you potentially giving yourself a serious brain injury.”
Clarke was expectedly quiet after that, silently brooding as Lexa guided her to the training room. While Lexa desperately wanted to apologize for agreeing with Nyko, she knew she did the right thing. One game was not worth a potential lifetime of problems.
“Up you go,” Lexa patted the first table in the room. “Let me clean that gash a little better for you.” Clarke sulked her way over to the table, and without a word, hopped up. Lexa ignored Clarke’s scowl, just accepting the fact that she was probably more angry with the situation than Lexa’s decision, although that reality didn’t make Clarke’s animosity sting any less.
Lexa took a deep breath, concentrating on providing the best bedside manner she could, and gently dabbed at the still flowing wound. She pursed her lips and tsked slightly under her breath. “This is deeper than I thought. I want to double check with Nyko, but I think you may need stitches.”
“Stitches?” Clarke gasped.
Before Lexa could offer any word of comfort, Nyko walked into the room and headed straight for them. “Okay, Clarke, let’s take a look here.” He removed the clean gauze Lexa had just pressed to her forehead, giving her a little nod of approval at her stellar cleaning job.
“How are you feeling? Nauseous? Dizzy? Blurred vision?”
Clarke released a heavy and exasperated sigh. “Fine, if not a little pissed you pulled me out of the game.” Nyko gave her a pointed look, and Clarke rolled her eyes but answered nonetheless. “And no nausea, the room isn’t spinning, and I have the same perfect vision I did this morning.”
“That’s good to hear. But I am afraid you’ll have to head to the E.R. This is deep. Lexa will give you the details. I need to go attend to some of your teammates now.” Nyko glanced at Lexa before he took off, and she wasn’t sure if it was sympathy or knowing that twinkled in his eye before he left.
Deciding to not dwell on whatever Nyko was trying to convey, Lexa turned back to Clarke. She was currently wholly engaged in a conversation with Raven about how the game finished, and Lexa took a moment to really look at her. Her shoulders slightly slumped, her hand pressed against her forehead with a slight tremble. And that was when Lexa realized that Clarke was probably putting on a braver face than she felt.
With a sudden wave of sympathy, Lexa considered offering to take Clarke to the ER herself. She wanted to provide some sort of comfort, and she had no idea if Clarke had anyone else willing to go with her. However, as she took a glance around the room, she was hit with a fresh flood of responsibility. She couldn’t just leave Nyko alone to provide all the treatments by himself, and Clarke really couldn’t wait.
Lexa should…