We are the last people standing
At the end of the night.
We are the greatest pretenders
In the cold morning light.
This is just another night,
And we've had many of them.
To the morning we're cast out,
But I know I'll land here again.
How am I gonna get myself back home?
"Get Home" by Bastille
When Clarke flung open the door of her Polis bedroom, no one was on the other side.
She hesitated for a moment, sparing only a short glance over her shoulder for Murphy who was still tied, gagged, and grunting frantically, but when Titus let off another wide shot, Clarke ran scrambling through the door. She sprinted breathlessly down the halls along the path she knew so well, instinctively half hunched over to avoid the bullets she expected would soon follow Titus' pounding footsteps behind her. She swung around a corner too wide, fingers grappling uselessly at the wall as she attempted to make the bend, and nearly knocked into a Grounder warrior. Clarke was well clear of him by the time she heard Titus' similarly shuffling steps round the corner, but the Grounder guard immediately backed away when he saw the gun still brandished awkwardly in Titus' hand. Clarke slammed into the door to Lexa's bedroom before she could fully bring herself to a stop. Her shaky hands barely managed to get a firm enough grasp on the handle to yank the door open.
Lexa stood at the side of the bed, already reaching for where her sword leaned against the wall, when Clarke turned on her heel and shoved the door closed behind her before dropping to the ground.
"Get down, Lexa!" she barked before she had even latched the door. She was panting and pressed flat against the floor instantly, staring with a steely gaze back in the direction she had come.
Lexa plummeted to the ground almost as swiftly as her eyes widened in surprise.
They lay together, feet apart, in shocked silence while Clarke attempted to catch her breath for several long moments, but no more gunshots rang out through the tower. Clarke's
breathing finally started to even out while Lexa watched.
"Clarke?" Lexa ventured, unsure. She shifted up onto her elbows, ready to leap off the ground at a moment's notice, her sword resting loosely under her hand.
"Your fucking fleimkepa is insane!" Clarke hissed, wrenching her head around to glare at Lexa, who, still imperiously calm, merely arched an eyebrow. "He kidnapped one of my friends, waited for me in my room, and shot at me! With a gun! He was going to frame Murphy for it so you would forgive him!"
"Titus!" Lexa shouted, instantly rising to her feet and stalking to the door. She was settling her sword into the holster on her hip and heading past Clarke when Clarke, who had quickly climbed to her feet as well, clapped a hand to Lexa's wrist. Lexa froze mid-step.
"Lexa, don't. Hold on, not yet. He won't do anything now that he knows that I've told you." Clarke dropped her hand as soon as Lexa stopped. Her words were as frustrated as they were frantic.
Lexa frowned slightly at Clarke, but her expression relaxed as she saw the truth in her words. She turned and sighed, reaching out to Clarke as though to touch her before pulling back. "You must hurry and go now to get beyond the line in time, Clarke. You should have already left." Lexa was speaking softly; she had slipped from shock to Heda and back to Lexa in moments.
"I would have already left," Clarke grumbled, brushing her flyaway hair from her face, "but someone had other plans." She was pointedly avoiding Lexa's gaze, shifting from foot to foot in the wake of their shared intimacy and her draining adrenaline.
Lexa tentatively pushed a strand of golden hair that Clarke had missed from her brow. When she instantly smiled and leaned into the gentle touch, Lexa grew more bold and cupped Clarke's cheek as she rubbed her thumb over her cheekbone. "Listen to me, Clarke. You and I have already spent too long here, Titus aside. We've wasted too much of your time." To contrast her words, however, Lexa closed the distance between them and settled her free hand on Clarke's hip. She was telling her to go even as she pulled her closer. "You need to take this Murphy and leave, now, or you will be cutting your travel much too close. If you go to the stable and take the time to saddle another horse for your friend, but then immediately go, you will still be able to make it."
"It wasn't wasted time," Clarke said seriously and finally looked up to meet Lexa's eyes. Her hand instinctively sought out where Lexa was still loosely cupping her hip.
They took a long moment to look into each other's eyes, smiles threatening to spread across both of their faces at the memory. Lexa pulled Clarke to her with the hand on her face and kissed her with her lips trembling and her eyes fluttering closed. They kissed gently, lovingly, saying goodbye with their mouths but without words. Lexa made to pull away after only a moment, but Clarke held on tighter, drawing her closer by the hand she had splayed open across the plane of Lexa's back. Lexa's body bowed under Clarke's touch, still shaking with the overwhelming intensity of their connection, and Clarke was not left much better. She was steady but not convincingly so.
After only a few moments more, Lexa finally pulled away, resting her forehead against her lover's and panting in the wake of their kiss. "Go, Clarke. Hurry. I will take care of Titus, and I will see you again," she said, but she did not pull herself any further from Clarke's touch.
Clarke wrenched back from Lexa's hand to stare into her eyes, expression firm against her sadness.
"Soon," Lexa added quietly, her eyes searching the depths of Clarke's blatant, blue stare. "We will see each other again soon."
Clarke smiled, ducking her head to leave one last chaste kiss on Lexa's mouth. She then quickly turned her back on Lexa, jerking her eyes from the sight of the Commander before she was tempted to stay longer. "May we meet again," Clarke said quietly as she lifted her chin and set her jaw. She threw open the door, and Titus stood just outside, head down and gun loose in his hand. Clarke jerked the gun from his hand wordlessly and kept walking.
"May we meet again," Lexa quietly replied even as she turned her gaze, suddenly furious once more, on her fleimkepa.
Octavia stood with her back against a crumbling brick wall, arms crossed over her chest, and eyes on the setting sun. Her muscles were taut, vibrating with energy and anxiety. She blinked and scrunched her eyes tightly closed, paused for a long moment, then opened them and swiveled her head to check all around her. She was still alone. "Come on, Clarke, please," she muttered, voice hoarse. "Don't do this." The minutes ticked by, however, and Octavia was still alone. Finally, infuriated, she jerked herself upright and reached over her shoulder to adjust her sword. She sighed, squared her stance, and set off for the stables alone.
"Okteivia kom Skaikru!"
Octavia whirled on her heels, scrambling for her sword, before she recognized Indra walking towards her. She instantly relaxed her muscles but began to fight the urge to grin.
Indra walked tall, chin up and stance proud despite her arm hanging heavily in its sling. She was wearing the attire befitting her rank as a close advisor to the Commander, and although her wounded arm swung with each step, her face betrayed no flickers of pain or shame.
Octavia finally allowed a smile to break across her face. "Indra," she said, and opened her mouth to say more but cut herself short. She dipped her head in a purposeful show of respect.
"Clarke?" Indra asked, looking for her as she came abreast with Octavia.
Octavia sharply shook her head. She was genuinely fighting now to bite back the harsh words that were obviously threatening to spill from her lips. She turned to face away from Indra and back towards the stables instead.
Indra heaved a sigh and licked her lips. "We need to go. Now."
"So let's go," Octavia said. Her face was stony as she and Indra made their way across Polis.
Clarke crossed the distance to her old room in long strides. She threw open the door and, this time, was unsurprised to find Murphy there, still irritated and nonsensically grunting for help, tied to a toppled chair. Clarke knelt before him and set down the gun, all business. "Are you hurt?" she asked as she tugged the gag from his mouth. She pulled the dagger from its holster on her hip and crawled behind him to unbind his hands.
"What the fuck was that?" Murphy barked as soon as he swallowed.
Clarke shook her head behind him. "I'll take that as a no, then," she quipped as she sawed her knife up through the cloth connecting his hands.
"Who is that dick? I've had enough of him." Murphy continued, unperturbed, even as his now-free hands start to work at the knot connecting one of his ankles to his chair.
"We need to get to the stables as soon as possible." Clarke said over him, hacking through the knot around his opposite ankle. "You don't know where that is," she realized as an afterthought, even as she was already on her feet and crossing her room. Her face was calm and unreadable.
"Oh, so this is the game we're playing," Murphy grumbled, finally finishing the knot around his ankle and scrambling free of his chair. "You run around and let me get shot at, and then think you don't have to answer my questions."
"Have you ever ridden a horse?" Clarke asked, grabbing her gun from the nightstand, checking the safety, and then nestling it down into the waistband of her jeans. "Do you have any weapons?"
Murphy swept up the gun she had left on the floor and tucked it into the back of his pants. "This one's mine. They took it off me when I was first invited here." The biting sarcasm Murphy inflicted on his words was cloying, but if Clarke noticed, she didn't comment.
She was stuffing clothes down into a satchel and had already swung the strap up and over her head before she realized Murphy hadn't answered her other question. "Horses?" Clarke prodded.
"Of course I haven't ridden a fucking horse before. Have you?"
Clarke laughed and brushed past him and out the door. "Yes, and you're about to learn as well."
Murphy trailed along behind Clarke, head down and eyes studiously averted from every Grounder they passed. "Do you know how to get out of here?"
Clarke laughed humorlessly then pressed her lips into a thin line. "Murphy, I've been living here for the better part of a month."
That caught Murphy's attention. His head jerked up as he froze and then jogged to catch up with her. She was the one carefully avoiding eye contact now. "A month, Clarke? You've been gone from camp for a month?"
Clarke laughed again, even more bitterly than before. This time, she turned to look at Murphy. "No, I've been in Polis for a month. I left camp only two weeks after you did."
Murphy's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened but, thanks to the steely look on her face, he let the subject drop. "Okay, so you have no better idea what's going on there than I do. That's a comfort at least."
Clarke smiled wryly at the idea.
Murphy huffed out a laugh. "Alright, so I should just shut up, I guess, because I clearly have no clue what I'm talking about."
"That's about right," Clarke agreed good-naturedly. Her hand was ghosting over the suddenly unfamiliar sensation of the gun at her back.
They had reached the elevator and stepped in; Clarke moved without a second thought, but Murphy hesitated at the threshold.
Clarke motioned him forward with a jerk of her head. "Come on, we don't have time to waste. We still may be able to catch Octavia if we hurry." She knocked twice on the edge of the elevator and then grabbed hold of the railing.
"Octavia's here?" Murphy asked, jerking to hold on to the wall as the elevator ground into motion. "Wait, no, I know. I shouldn't be so surprised. Is Bellamy here too, then? Lincoln?"
Clarke shifted the bag further up her shoulder, once again avoiding Murphy's eyes. "Lincoln's at the Ark, I think. Bellamy is...Bellamy and Octavia don't get along very well anymore, from what I've seen."
Murphy shook his head. "Now I've heard everything."
They fell into an uncomfortable silence until the elevator finally hit the ground, and Clarke took off at a jog through the streets of Polis. "You know what a horse is, right, Murphy?" She called over her shoulder, because Murphy, unprepared for Clarke's pace, had fallen behind.
"Do I know what a horse - of course I know what a horse is, Clarke. I didn't sleep through all of my classes," Murphy grumbled, easily catching up to Clarke in big loping strides.
"You're full of surprises," Clarke muttered, rounding the corner into the stable and motioning the stable hand towards her. "I need another horse, please," Clarke told him even as she began saddling up Lexa's bay stallion. "Selu," Clarke specified without sparing a glance from her work, and the groomsman quickly moved towards the black mare that Clarke usually favored. "You'll take her, Murphy," she explained, swinging up onto the stallion's back. The horse struggled under Clarke's body but eventually settled down. "Kanati barely tolerates me," Clarke explained as she shifted her bag around her body to rest on the saddle behind her.
"Naturally," Murphy said, utterly nonplussed, as he reached out a tentative hand to Selu's nose. The horse snuffled, pulling away from Murphy's touch almost as quickly as Murphy himself retreated.
"Odon, Wanheda," the Grounder said and stepped out of the stable.
Clarke nodded to the groomsman and then jerked her head again, motioning Murphy towards the horse.
Murphy stared at her for a long moment before grudgingly heading towards the horse. He tried to grab ahold of the saddle but couldn't find a good grip and decided instead to glare suspiciously at the stirrup.
"We don't have time for this," Clarke snapped and shifted anxiously atop her horse.
Murphy threw up his hands as he glared at her over the horse's back. "I'm sorry that I've lived on a fucking space station my whole life," Murphy hissed, finally grabbing ahold of the horn and taking a running jump at the saddle. He landed face down with his stomach across the saddle and had to wiggle and grunt quite a bit before he was finally astride the horse. "Well isn't this just the most uncomfortable thing ever," Murphy muttered even as Clarke nudged Kanati ahead of Murphy and out of the stable.
"Squeeze her with your knees," Clarke said without looking back, and Murphy did.
Selu jumped forward in response, bumping into Kanati's rump, and Murphy quickly lessened the strength of his legs.
"Grab the ropes in both hands," Clarke added, and he was forced to scramble to find the reins that he hadn't even noticed yet.
Luckily for him, Selu appeared to be following Kanati instinctively and even quickly started to trot when Clarke urged Kanati faster. Since the stables were situated near the outskirts of town, Murphy and Clarke were able to quickly clear the streets of Polis and enter the forest.
"Kick with your heels, not too hard," Clarke told Murphy. He immediately did, and Selu flew forward, dropping instantly into a gallop apace with Kanati and Clarke. "Hold on!" Clarke added several seconds too late, after Murphy had already nearly fallen off backwards.
"Alright, we're out of town and headed home at fucking breakneck speed," Murphy said a little too loudly when he had finally righted himself. "Now tell me what's going on!"
"Why were you with Titus?" Clarke asked as she leaned low over Kanati's neck as though to urge him that much faster.
"Not this again!" Murphy shouted, and then shame-facedly lowered his voice. "I have spent the last 48 hours getting tortured for information about you. The least you can do is answer my questions first!"
Clarke sighed, dropping her head to let her chin rest against her chest for a moment. "Fine," she said as she straightened. "I'm going to need you on my side anyway. It's a long story, though, so pay attention."
"Miller?" Bellamy's voice was loud and designed to garner attention.
Miller jerked up, startled out of his doze at his current post in the guard tower at Arkadia's gate. He blinked quickly, adjusting the gun that rested against his hip and lifting one hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes. "Sorry, man. You know it gets boring up here. Nothing ever happens anymore."
"Don't worry about it. Do you have a minute?" Bellamy shot a glance over his shoulder, but the coast was still clear. Miller was the only other one in the watch tower right now, and all the other members of the guard were on the ground.
Miller arched an eyebrow. "Wasn't I just telling you how lame it is up here?"
"I need your help. You can do subtle, right?" Bellamy was still both visibly anxious and not looking at Miller. Now he was scanning the grounds of the Ark, eyes darting quickly from person to person.
Miller chuckled loudly, and Bellamy's attention jerked up to him. "I was in the skybox for stealing, Bell, and they didn't catch me 'til I was 16. I'd been doing it for a half a dozen years by then. I'm the goddamn king of subtle."
Bellamy cracked a smile at that. "Alright, Miller, I hear you. Tone down the ego. Listen, the Chancellor's given me a, uh," he inched closer to Miller and dropped his voice to a quiet rumble, "special mission, I guess. He thinks Kane's been feeding information to O and the Grounders. I'm supposed to find him, bring him in for Pike to talk to. I'm gonna need some help actually bringing him in though, which is where you come in. I'm gonna wait 'til I can catch him alone, then I'll give you a head's up, and we'll bring him into lock-up. I'm trying to avoid making a scene out of it, you know?"
Miller nodded quickly, short and sharp, to show he had heard, but his eyes had widened.
"Don't worry, Nate. We're just gonna ask him some questions," Bellamy reassured him, reaching a hand out as though to rest on Miller's shoulder and then diverting at the last second.
Miller smiled feebly, but his eyebrows were furrowed. "Of course. No problem. Just, uh, give me the word, and I'll be right there."
The horses were dripping sweat and fighting the reins. Clarke's voice was hoarse from telling her story when she finally pulled back on Kanati to bring him to a walk.
Murphy struggled for a moment before Selu finally slowed to match pace, and the two rode in almost companionable silence for a while before Murphy spoke up. "Aren't we racing the Commander's death clock?"
Clarke rolled her eyes and turned on her steed to begin digging through her bag behind her. "You could say that. Even horses must rest, though. We can't afford to stop, and we can't even afford to walk for long, but we can give them a little bit of a break before we start up again." Clarke pulled a shawl from her bag. She wrapped it several times around her neck and then pulled it up over her head and tucked her hair back into the folds of the fabric. "Either way, we need to talk at less than a shout for a moment."
Murphy nodded at that, his face showing marginal amusement. "Fair enough, princess," Murphy said, and Clarke grimaced at the return of the nickname. "I'm sure you'd rather not shout your love for the Commander of the 12 clans into the night, especially with a bounty on our heads."
Clarke physically startled and turned in her saddle to stare wide-eyed at Murphy. "I am not in love with Lexa," Clarke hissed.
"You just called her Lexa," Murphy returned, unperturbed. He wasn't even looking at her, eyes instead firmly focused on the narrow path they followed through the pitch-black woods. "Interesting. I would have guessed her name was something scarier. Killer, maybe. Or Buster."
"I am-" Clarke sputtered, taken aback. She jerked back around in her saddle and tugged on the reins so tightly that Kanati threw his head. "I am not in love with Lexa." Having said her piece twice now, she clenched her jaw pointedly looked away.
"The library in the skybox was small," Murphy said.
Despite herself, Clarke turned back to look at him again. She had been taken further off guard by his complete non-sequitur.
"It was even smaller than the one in gen pop. I'm guessing you never saw it, being in solitary and all?" Murphy wasn't looking at her. He was watching the movements of Selu's ears as she flicked them back and forth, listening for a command in Trigedasleng.
Clarke nodded mutely, although Murphy didn't see it.
"Anyway, it was all educational bullshit, I think because they weren't bothering to give us classes. Like maybe it'll take some of the load off their guilty consciences, like at least they gave a bunch of juvie kids the opportunity to teach ourselves before they killed us off on our 18th birthdays. I dunno." He shifted in the saddle. His movements were as gentle as the quiet, regretful murmur of his words. "Anyway, I tried to read a lot. I was bored. I was in there for a long time, a lot longer than most - longer than you. By the time we came down here, I'd read almost all of the stuff in that stupid library at least once, which is saying something for me, because reading's hard as hell. My favorites were the stuff by Shakespeare, 'cause it always took me a bunch of tries before I could figure out what the hell he was saying. It took up a lot of time, reading that stuff over and over again, but it wasn't like I was reading the same thing, because I'd understand something new each time. It was like a bunch of stories in one. Plus, lots of people died, so it was as close as I could get to some action. Anyway, there's a line in one of his stories, I don't remember which, he says, 'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'"
"Hamlet," Clarke said quietly. During his monologue, she had been watching him intently, but once he began the quote, she had looked quickly back to the trail.
"Yeah," Murphy agreed, cracking his neck. "Hamlet."
"It doesn't matter now," Clarke said, and she cast a glance towards Murphy who now had his eyes on her, straining to see her through the dark.
"I dunno," Murphy said, shrugging, a thoughtful look on his face. "I think it matters a lot."
"I'll never see her again," Clarke rejoined, suddenly aggressive.
"Says who?" Murphy scoffed. "As far as I've gathered, all we've gotta do is kill the old Earth Skills teacher, and then you two can go back to your little love nest, no problem."
There was silence for a long moment, both of their heads hanging low. "Do you really think that?" Clarke finally asked, quiet.
"I do," Murphy said, voice completely devoid of emotion. "Well, after we kill the bitch in the red dress, that is. We've got a lot of killing to do, but then, yeah, you can totally shack up with her."
Clarke pulled her shawl further forward over her face. Her expression was twisting into something approaching devastation, and she was rapidly blinking back the wetness gathering in her eyes. "Murphy, back in the beginning... When...When Wells died. I wasn't thinking. He was my best friend. I was so angry at him, at everyone, I-"
"You weren't angry at Charlotte," Murphy suddenly ground out. His voice was harsh and choked.
"Not as angry as I should have been," Clarke agreed, taking the brunt of Murphy's anger like a wave breaking over her. "Not as angry as I was at you." There was another long silence as Clarke watched the tension slowly release out of Murphy's body from the corner of her eye. "I think...I think that maybe Charlotte got what she might have deserved, in the end," Clarke said quietly, so low that it was barely audible over the steady hoof beats below them.
"I know she did," Murphy responded instantly, voice incredibly loud in the quiet of the moment.
"But you didn't," Clarke returned just as quickly. "You didn't get what you deserved."
The silence hung heavy for several moments longer. Murphy started to crack his knuckles one by one, and at that, Clarke straightened in her saddle.
"The horses have had long enough. We need to hurry if we're going to make it there by dawn." Without waiting for a response from Murphy, she kicked her heels into Kanati's sides. "Anyway, it's your turn. Where have you been?"
The trees were alive, rustling with noise and movement despite the reality that only greenery and dirt were visible for as far as could be seen around Arkadia. Slowly, the Grounder army began to move into place. It was a trickle of movement at first, one or two Grounders riding up on their horses and dismounting just within the tree line. This first wave of scouts was soon joined by a larger group of warriors riding horses which drug behind them pallets of tents, unlit torches, and food. They all made themselves busy setting up tents and starting fires.
Eventually the guards of Arkadia began to notice. They talked amongst themselves, pointing and muttering, quietly second-guessing whether or not what they saw spiraling just above the trees was smoke.
"Should we tell the Chancellor?" One guard asked another, and Miller forced a chuckle as he climbed down the ladder leading to the watch tower to make room for the guard who waited at the base to take his place.
"What, that we think we might maybe see a little bit of smoke?" Miller interrupted, gesturing out towards the trees. His forced bravado was loud and stiff. "Sure, if you want to be the one to go knock on his door and wake him up, be my guest."
The other guards shrugged, and Miller headed back into the Ark, throwing worried glances over his shoulder with every step.
Octavia and Indra reached the border on breathless horses only a few hours shy of dawn.
"We made good time," Indra noted, her face betraying nothing.
Octavia nodded as their horses carefully picked through the beginnings of the Grounder camp towards Arkadia. "Where will you stay the night?" She asked, looking to Indra with deference.
"I'll be fine, Octavia. If need be, I will sleep below the stars," Indra replied, unworried. "Will you find somewhere to stay?" She turned to look at Octavia with that, the slight hint of concern all but buried on her stoic features.
Octavia smiled softly. "Of course. I may even be back in my own room tonight. We'll see."
Indra pulled her horse up short and swung down, and Octavia moved to dismount Helios, but Indra waved her to a stop. "Go, Octavia of the Sky People. The others will allow your presence now because it is before the blockade is to begin, but they know that you are not one of us. I'll say goodbye to you from atop your horse."
Octavia glanced around her, suddenly aware of the murmurs and stares that followed her slow path through the Grounder camp. "Goodbye, Indra," Octavia said, voice low.
Indra patted Helios' flank and turned to tug her horse away from Octavia to find herself a place to sleep for the night. "Goodbye," she responded without looking back.
"Thank you," Octavia said, a little louder, as she nudged Helios forward through the trees.
"Chof, Okteivia kom Skaikru," Indra called after her, just barely loud enough for Octavia to hear.
When she looked back, Indra had already walked away.
Octavia urged Helios forward, and soon they broke free of the trees and into a trot towards Arkadia. Octavia quickly rose her hands above her head once she was within sight of the guards at the gate, but Helios knew where he was headed and followed a straight course without her direction.
"It's Octavia!" She started calling as soon as she saw the guns raised towards her, and she waved her empty hands at them as she shouted. "Octavia Blake. I'm one of your people!" The guns didn't lower, but they also didn't shoot. By the time Octavia drew Helios up at the front gate, someone had already sent for and found Bellamy.
"Octavia, where have you been?" Bellamy ground out, looking deeply infuriated and ashamed. He stood just outside of Arkadia's still half-closed gates with his hands on his hips.
Octavia tried and failed to fight back her smile at his irritation. "Out," she responded curtly.
Bellamy threw up his hands to show his distaste for that answer, but turned on his heel and lead his sister and her horse through the gates.
She swung down once she was within the yard, and Bellamy's arm was closed around her bicep as soon as her feet hit the ground.
"We need to talk, O, now," he growled into her ear. He was bent close to her ear, trying to keep their confrontation quiet even as he prepared to drag her across the yard.
"But Helios-" she tried, but Bellamy shook his head.
"Your damn horse will be fine," he responded, so Octavia looped the reins around a fence post and allowed herself to be tugged along.
"Listen to me, Bell," she started, but Bellamy jerked her arm so hard in response that she stumbled.
"No, O, you listen to me," he barked, and Octavia barely had time to right herself before he pulled her over the threshold and into the dimly lit depths of the Ark. "I don't know where the hell you've been or what you think you've been doing, but Monroe is dead because of you. This is all coming down around your ears, and I've been trying my best to protect you from Pike, but you haven't been making it easy." Bellamy had quickly lead her to the room that she and Lincoln shared, and he threw the door open before pushing Octavia inside ahead of him.
"Bellamy, I-" She was desperate to explain herself, especially now that Bellamy had released her arm, and they were in a private enough place that she could say her piece.
"I'm not done!" Bellamy barked, and she sat down on her bed with a sigh and an irritated expression. "Didn't you hear me? Monroe is dead! Pike's looking for Kane, gonna take him in and interrogate him, and it's all gonna come back to you, isn't it? Tell me it isn't," he dared her, arms crossed over his chest. He was visibly seething in rage.
"Bellamy, listen to me. Do not leave camp. Do not go out of these walls, because five miles out there-" Octavia tried, but Bellamy was leaning over her and into her face before she could finish.
"Don't tell me what to do. Only one of us is looking out for both of us here, and that's me." He was within inches of her, their faces so close that his breath was ruffling the loose hair around her temples.
Octavia opened her mouth to argue, glaring into his eyes, when the handcuffs audibly snapped around her wrist. She jerked against them violently and looked down to see that he had handcuffed one of her wrists to the bedpost. By the time she looked back up at him, he had stepped out of her reach. She tried to spring to her feet but was instantly jerked back down by the short chain. "Bellamy!" She screeched.
"I have to go," he answered, suddenly dangerously placid, as he turned towards the door.
"Bellamy, please, please, don't go out - don't! Five miles out there-" he put his hand on the door knob, and Octavia quickly changed tactics in her panic. "Bellamy, I'm begging you."
Bellamy paused with his back to her and the door ajar as he shook his head. "I'll be back with your breakfast."
"Bellamy! Bellamy, don't! Bellamy!" Octavia's voice was climbing as rapidly in pitch as it was in decibels.
He had already shut the door and closed it, leaving her alone in the dark.
The knock on his door pulled Kane out of sleep. He blinked at his ceiling, confused. There was another knock. He rolled over onto his side with a groan. Another knock. "I'm coming," he called and clamored out of bed. He fished around in the dark for his pants, stepped into them, and zipped them up before running a hand through his hair. He stumbled across his dark room and opened the door, then squinted under the artificial lights of the hallway.
Miller stood with his hand raised for another knock and his head twisted to look over his shoulder.
"Jesus, Miller, come in," Kane said, stepping out of the way as he pulled Miller forward and into his room with a hand on his shoulder. Kane quickly closed and locked the door and then leaned against it. With a low groan, he turned to face Miller who stood in the middle of his room looking grave.
"They know," Miller said, voice quiet and face pale in the scant light of the full moon flooding in from the window.
"Who knows?" Kane asked, voice suddenly strained. Instant concern had replaced the sleepiness on his face at Miller's words.
"Who do you think?" Miller sighed, running the flat of his palm over the stubble on his chin. "Bellamy came to me a few hours ago to help track you down, bring you in. He's been looking for you, waiting for the right time. Said he doesn't want to make a scene."
"Jesus," Kane repeated and bowed his head to think.
"You need to go," Miller said quickly, spurred on by Kane's apparent inaction. "Pack a bag, be out of here by dawn. And go fast - there's something going on at the treeline. All the guards are talking about it, arguing about whether or not to go to Pike. Harper and I will cover for you as long as we can. Go try and meet up with Octavia, find somewhere to bed down for the night. I'll come find you when it's all clear." He was back at Kane's side now, his hand on the handle as he prepared to leave.
"If it's ever all clear," Kane said quietly. His head was still lowered, and his eyes were tightly shut.
Miller had no response for that. He just shook his head and grimaced. "Either way, you need to go."
The forest had developed the blue-grey quality that it always did just before the sun started to peek over the horizon. Clarke was bent low over Kanati's neck, with Murphy and Selu just a stride behind her. The horses were panting and foaming with sweat. Clarke's shawl was still pulled tight around her face but only because of her constant adjustments to. Murphy shifted uncomfortably from the unaccustomed hours of long riding atop a horse.
"We're almost there," Clarke said, more to herself than to him. Her eyes flickered back and forth from the slivers of silver sky she could see through the canopy to the familiar path ahead of her. "So close," she murmured.
Suddenly, they were surrounded by Grounders, at rest and at ease, in various stages of preparing a camp and waking up. Clarke tensed in her saddle, and Murphy instantly scrambled for his gun, but the Grounders merely stared.
Clarke tipped her head back to get yet another look at the sky; it was not quite dawn yet but too close for comfort. It took them several tense minutes to make their way through camp, but they broke through the tree line soon enough.
Murphy let out an audible groan of relief as they were suddenly out in the open with Arkadia in sight.
When they were close enough to the Ark that Clarke's body began to relax, she pulled Kanati up to a slow walk, and Murphy did the same at her side.
"Hands up," she told him quietly. "Palms open."
"Clarke," Murphy said testily, and when Clarke looked over his hands were already high above his head. "I spent almost a decade in the skybox. I know how to deal with law enforcement."
Clarke allowed a smile at that. The relief of making it inside the blockade in time was enough to encourage her to tease him. "And how does that usually work out for you?"
Murphy pursed his lips. "Fair enough," he responded.
The horses continued their slow path under the gentle nudges of Murphy and Clarke's knees. Their gloved hands were high above their heads all the while.
"Do they see us?" Murphy asked Clarke quietly, and at almost that moment, they were suddenly able to pick out the shine of pointed guns against the black of the guards' uniforms. "Your hair," Murphy said.
Clarke hesitated for a moment, confused, before dropping the shawl to her shoulders to let the guards see the hair that none of the Grounders seemed to share.
As the sun finally rose into the sky, Clarke and Murphy stopped their horses at the gates of the Ark, and Clarke let her head tip back to frown up at the sky. She was home.