Clarke pushed trough the foliage, ignoring the eyes that were prying in her back. She had been walking for days, but she had never acknowledged her presence. She couldn't. She had to go through the motions first. On her own. But she was aware of her. She knew she was there, guarding her every step of the way. Watching out for her, making sure she wouldn't get into to much trouble. Yet she never intervened. It was a silent agreement between the two of them. Clarke allowed her to follow and she allowed Clarke the idea of privacy.
This is how it had been for a good fortnight now. She ate when Clarke ate, slept when Clarke slept and walked where Clarke walked. It was comforting to know that she wasn't alone. She knew that at one point she might be attacked by grounders from unknowing tribes and Clarke did not have her fighting skills. So she made sure to be noisy when she woke up. To make a little extra sound when she would move into a different direction. She made it easy for her to keep tracking her. Not that she would have a problem with it otherwise. It was in her blood. Clarke envied that.
The wood crackled as the fire licked the dry branches. Clarke placed the stick with the skinned, two headed, bunny over it. As the fat started to drip out of her soon to be dinner the blonde girl finally sat down. For a while she started into the flames while the eyes just stared at her. The pain suddenly overcame her. Attacked her chest. It felt as if the sharpest dagger was stabbed inside her over and over again. It was so intense that it knocked all the air out of Clarke's chest. While she was gasping for her breath the tears started rolling down her face. An uncomfortable shift in the distance. This is how it had been for a good fortnight now.
Clarke didn't hide her pain. She didn't hide how the betrayal had crushed her and she was not ashamed of her tears. Not in front of her. She knew that, even though they had their differences, she didn't have to. But she never asked her for comfort either. She couldn't, not yet. She had to understand her feelings before she could let anyone near her again.
There had been so much she had done, so many choices she had made, under pressure. She had been the one that had to make all the hard decisions. Not her mother, not Kane. She had done that, on her own. In the end she was the one burning 300 warriors at the dropship. In the end she was the reason that Finn went ballistic and killed all those people. In the end she was the one sticking her knife into his guts. In the end it was her choice not to evacuate Tondc. In the end it was her hand on the trigger that killed all the mountain men. In the end… She was a murderer.
A deep, wailing, sound escaped her mouth. What has she done? Everywhere she went people died. She had told herself that she did not have a choice. But she knew better, there is always a choice. Hers was not easy to make but it has kept her people alive. Well, most of them. Still she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if… But she knew. In the end she knew it was her people or theirs. If she had not defended herself against the grounders they would have slaughtered them all. And if the grounders didn't, the mountain men would have. Yes, innocent people died. Mountain people. It could have been innocent sky people. Clarke just didn't know which out of the two would have been the better.
She just knew her friends were alive. That's why she did what she did. It wasn't about survival, it wasn't about war. No. The minute that she saw her mother on that table and that drill entered her body, the second her mother let out that tortured scream, that was when she found the power to do it. To get rid of her enemies even though it would kill the innocents. Because in the end, the pain of that would be less than the pain of losing her mother. Clarke had done it because she was selfish. And the truth was, she would do it again.
At the dawning of that realization she let out another horrific wail. Again an uncomfortable shift followed, closer this time. Clarke ignored it. She was in so much pain that it was almost unbearable. All those lives… If Lexa had been there, at her side, maybe none of this would have happened. But Clarke knew that wasn't fair. If Lexa had been there, more lives would have been lost. The commander had sacrificed a few lives to save many. Clarke should have done the same. And she would have if they had offered her the deal. Her selfish being would have sacrificed the lives of the hundreds of grounders in the mountain, only so she could spare her 44. Lexa had known. Clarke had known. No one betrayed anybody.
Still, the pain in her heart was unbearable. She was so close to opening up to the commander. She was so close to seeking the safety of her arms and the warmth of her embrace. Lexa had crept into her soul and now it was too late. Clarke wanted her out but no matter how deep she dug the nails into her skin, she wouldn't leave. She heard her voice as if she was telling her where to go. She felt her skin brush against her own in the middle of the night. She felt her lips crashing into her own, the way they did that day in the tent. Oh and the heat of her body most certainly still centered at her loins when Clarke memorized her taste. Her whole being was being torn apart.
She felt the dark eyes taking her in. Clarke couldn't blame her. It hadn't been this bad before. She hadn't felt like dying, not like the way she felt now. She gritted her teeth and tried to catch her breath. Her mind didn't want to cave in but she knew her soul needed something totally different. So she wiped away her tears and drank a sip of fresh water from her traveling bottle. She starred into the flames and at the bunny that, now, had a beautiful golden brown color. She closed her eyes and braced herself for what would be coming.
"You can come out now," her voice sounded hoarse, "I know you are hungry."
She didn't speak when she sat down next to her, nor when Clarke handed her a piece of meat. They had an understanding. Octavia knew that too./p