Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A week passes, and it's finally the day of the big show. The air is crackling with nervous energy. People are scurrying everywhere. Shouts are buzzing in all directions. It's an absolute chaos, to put it mildly. And Lexa knows she has to be a beacon of tranquility amongst rising panic and the smell of hairspray.

She was having a hard time with the role during her first-ever show as a director. Nerves are contagious little buggers, and she was totally getting affected. Who was she to lead a whole group of students on her own? Her degree wasn't even in performing arts.

But Lexa used to be an anxious kid herself, Anya spent a lot of hours grounding and talking her down. It was a lot of grueling work until their teacher suggested joining the drama club, and miraculously the girl was taught to channel her worries into excitement. She could relate to her students well enough, to that wired-up feeling hijacking your body. Years brought her ability to tame it. And that knowledge meant that she could help them.

"Okay guys, let's gather here for a second." Lexa motions to everybody to come closer.

"Great. Now I want you to have a big inhale." She is looking around to catch slackers. "Come on, everybody together. In"

"And out." The collective whoosh of air is so long, that it has her worried for a second of someone passing out. "Don't overdo it, guys."

"I know how hard each of you has worked over the last month. And whatever happens, I'm proud of you. Though I'm sure you'll do great. You won't really be able to see anything because of the spotlights. So imagine that it's just another rehearsal visited by a couple of friends, okay?" There is a chorus of approving hums. "Just please don't fall off the stage again." And now the room is filled with giggles.

"Okay, we have an hour left, so please check your costumes and your props. Don't forget that there are copies of scripts lying backstage pretty much everywhere. And if you need me—"

"Sorry, Miss Woods. But I can't get the lights to work." Comes up Tris who is responsible for decorations.

Some students throw Lexa panicked looks. "I'll come look at them in a moment, you check the backdrop." She puts on her best reassuring smile and looks at the troupe again. "As I was saying, if you need me during the performance, I'll be on the B side. Now go get ready."

The teacher follows Tris' path backstage to the tiny room hidden behind the curtains. Lexa tries to come in, but the door only creaks in protest. It's been giving everyone trouble since the beginning of the year. And it seems that maintenance still hasn't got their hands on it. She's totally going to kill Murphy. Lexa shoves harder, putting all her weight on it, and the hinges give way this time. The light panel looks like it belongs on a spaceship straight out of a cheap sci-fi movie with its completely unnecessary amount of rods and buttons. Luckily, she knows this dance well, so a couple of flicks of the wrist later another crisis is averted. When Lexa gets down from the stage, she's pleased to find things a lot calmer. She'd better take the last chance to soak some quiet time in before she assumes her duties as a watchful hawk behind the stage.

Thankfully, the play goes smoothly. Lexa is overjoyed and proud to see the beaming looks on her student's faces basking in ovations and cheers. Even the nervous kids did great, no one forgot their lines and all limbs are perfectly intact, so it is a major success in her books. When the clapping cools off a bit, the curtain goes down. And now everyone is ecstatic, exchanging crashing hugs still hyped on performance adrenaline.

"Guys, I'm so proud of you, you all did a fantastic job!" The students' eyes are sparkling with delight when they look at her. "Now, before we go and pump ourselves full of sugar, remember to handle your costumes and props with care. You have half an hour before the dinner."

As the crowd disperses laughing and chattering, Lexa starts the cleanup, no way she's staying after the festivities. The school has a tradition of organizing a feast for the crew after a performance, it's a huge affair, with tons of amazing food and colorful decorations. With all the exertion of the previous weeks, Lexa usually crashes after an hour, stuffed with baked goods.

Fifteen minutes later, she is done with one of the dressing rooms and is coming back to the auditorium, when Aden jogs up to her.

"Miss Woods!" His voice breathy from running. "Miss Griffin is in trouble!"

"Aden," Lexa sighs, exasperated. "We know what you've been trying to do, so you can drop the act, okay?"

"No, really, Miss Woods, we didn't do anything this time. I swear!"

Years of teaching made her quite a master at spotting lies on students' faces, and all she can read from Aden's right now is a genuine worry, and it's troubling.

"What happened to Miss Griffin?"

"She is stuck in the lights room. Madi went to call for Gustus," he replies impatiently.

Surely if Clarke was in distress, she would call her. But when Lexa goes to check her phone, it is dead. Damn it. She must have forgotten to charge it with all the excitement of the day.

"Okay, let's go." She is all but sprinting because if her wife is trapped alone in a confined space, they have a big problem.

A small group of students is gathered near the door, looking worried. Lexa can hear ragged breathing even a few steps away.

"Clarke?" She thrusts the door, but it doesn't budge this time.

"Lexa!" Her voice is filled with relief.

"Clarke, you are okay. Gustus is coming to get you out in a minute. I'm here, and you are okay." She moves to sit beside the door and tries to sound as soothing as possible. "Let's even your breathing, okay?"

"Yeah, I can do that." Clarke's voice is still shaken, but she manages to make some slow inhales and exhales.

"It's just like Barcelona, remember? When we got stuck in that tiny elevator."

"I still can't believe you persuaded me to go into that thing," Clarke quivers.

"Well, I wasn't going to go up a million flights of stairs. The important thing is that we were out and well."

"We were."

"And you'll be okay now, I promise. Just keep breathing, in and out." Lexa hopes Gustus is coming any moment now because the distractions don't usually work for too long, especially if they aren't in one room together.

The first time it happened was when an elevator in their first shitty apartment complex stopped halfway up. Lexa was pressing the buttons annoyed when she heard wheezing and turned to see Clarke, cheeks flushed, a panic written all over her face. Which in turn freaked Lexa out, and now they both were staring at each other on the verge of a breakdown. Only Clarke's pleading eyes brought her back to some semblance of calm. She somehow managed to talk her down, and blessedly they were going up again soon after. Talking, all in all, turned out to be as good a strategy as anything else.

"The set today was great. You guys outdid yourselves this time, the decorations in the third act were definitely my favorite. The colors—" Her excessive rambling is interrupted by heavy footsteps hurrying in their direction.

She glances behind her shoulder to see a tall bearded man carrying a tool kit. "Clarke, Gustus is here. He'll open the door in no time, continue breathing."

Lexa steps away to give him some space to work. She can almost hear time ticking in her head. A couple of minutes later the door springs open, and Clarke topples over, Lexa barely managing to catch her. She notices a couple of tears sliding down her cheeks and quickly wipes them away before getting her wife in a tight embrace. Lexa murmurs soft reassurances into the blond hair, trying to bring Clarke's heartbeat down. Her hands are moving in small circles on her back.

"So, how should we dispose of Murphy?"

The blonde gives a wet laugh but doesn't let go. Lexa continues to provide comfort as much as she can, with whispers and gentle hands. Clarke's melting into the hug, the tension slowly leaving her muscles. A while later, she detaches herself a bit and gives Lexa a little kiss. There is a myriad of cooing noises around them. The brunette has completely forgotten about the surrounding audience.

"Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag," Clarke chuckles, still nestled into Lexa's body.

"Yeah." She smiles back. "All things considered, looks like they actually managed to pull off a successful operation."