[Is it possible for her to deceive Lexa when they're linked like this? Clarke draws in closer, removing the space between them. It's not unlike their time in the City of Light, but she was desperate, aware of the little bits of time they had. All she wanted to do was touch her, and she can't stop herself now. Not when it's so real, when she knows she can hold on to this moment.

(Later, Clarke will be aware that she might lose Lexa again. All the people who have showed up, and then later vanished. Murphy's among them. It could happen. The thought won't surface in her mind right now. She won't let it.)

Even with the closeness, her eyes flicker elsewhere, seeking the answer. Guilt surges up. She couldn't do anything to prevent what Ontari did to Aden and the other novitiates. But she could prevent Ontari from succeeding Lexa. She was not meant to be the next to lead Lexa's Coalition.

Clarke breathes out through pursed lips.]

Technically? Me. [She recalls Lexa's words in the City of Light. Clarke smiles at the memory.] It's a long story. [That's been her protection from people asking about her life back home. Why is she a Nightblood? Why would she change that about herself? Why did she come down to the ground? Every story is changed or altered or sanitized, except for the fact that the conditions of her world are terrible, and she was left alone.

Then she decides: no. Lexa won't hear this story now. It can wait.]

Can it wait? [Clarke feigns some lightness in her voice, eyebrows raising ever so slightly. She forces a smile. The emotions she feels don't sync up with these words. That doesn't seem to matter to her.] I need to shower, and you probably need to get dressed, and we ...

[That won't put Lexa at ease, she realizes, trailing off. Her mind goes to Octavia and her efforts.

(Clearly, Clarke doesn't know what goes down in that bunker.)]

The Coalition is safe, but the rest can wait. All right?