From the Ashes We Will Rise
A/N: The season 4 finale of the 100 left me with so many questions, theories, feelings, and angst. I took it in my liberty to write my interpretation of what happened after the catastrophic departure of the rocket going to space and Clarke on the ground. This will not be a one-shot.
Chapter 1: Clarke
When she was a little girl, Clarke had a vague memory of wanting to be in zero g. As she outgrew her clothes and traded crayons in for medical supplies, the logical part of her shoved the curiosity down for numerous reasons. Her desire to float in zero g would be an uncanny parallel to the floating of her father-it would be disrespectful of her to go out into space for enjoyment when others before her had perished as a result.
Zero g was destined for people who spent too much time thinking in equations, formulas, and numbers. Unlike Raven, Clarke's talents lied in interpersonal skills and the human body. Like her mom, she knew she would someday be working with patients and monitoring the sick. She would never, ever, be outside of the Ark unless she was an engineer, or if she committed a crime deemed heinous enough by authority to be floated. Still, the dreams of conquering the vast darkness wasn't so scary to the younger version of Clarke-it was the taste of freedom that kept her sane all those years.
Did dying feel like floating? Clarke felt like she was swimming in liquid darkness, except her entire body was on fire as it ebbed through the dark. Burns and welts blossomed on her body, ripping apart her skin and forcing her to vomit up blood. She could feel the death wave burning away her very existence; lesions appeared and melted her skin like a continuous douse of boiling water. There's going to be nothing left of me. Aside from the cries of agony piercing the air, the laboratory shook with the intensity of a massive earthquake. Her entire body convulsed, slamming clumsily in the ground moments after she barely shut the doors to the laboratory. Anything that wasn't attached to the wall went tumbling onto the floor, sending glass, plastic, and metal ricocheting off one another. The air stunk of blood, ammonia, and death. Clarke's eyes were half-lidded when the lights began to flicker uncontrollably. As she began to lose sensation of her body, Clarke wanted her last moments to not be in vain.
I love you Mom and Dad. I love you so, so much. My friends are safe. May we meet again. She thought of Bellamy, Raven, Monty, Murphy, Emori, and even Echo. Survive, she told them. Survive for me. She even thought of the others in the bunker, sending prayers their way.
Maybe this was the universe's way of telling her to pay for her sins. She wasn't a religious person herself, but it seemed to feel that way now that the outside world could easily reduce her to nothing in milliseconds. Months ago, they weren't just on top of the world. They made it theirs. If this was God's way of delivering her to Hell, Clarke deserved it. She knew with the blood on her hands that she wouldn't be shown mercy or forgiveness. Bellamy gave her forgiveness once. It wasn't enough to forget how she thought she was God at some point, choosing who lives or who dies. This was her last act, and the real God was ready to punish her.
This was her choice, and she would do it all again if it meant the lives of her friends were going to be spared from the unmerciful force of the Death Wave. She had meet and greeted death enough times…wouldn't it be appropriate to follow him in the dark? To escape all that is ugly and impure about the world? She could think of so many wrongs with the world, yet could never find herself losing hope that even during all that is evil, there is at least one person finding light. This time, she had saved a couple of souls. The souls of good people who are capable of good things. Even if goodness was a journey before it met its destination. People like Murphy and Bellamy showed her that.
She did not dare open her eyes for fear of the infinite dark. It was a pool, floating and ebbing like a lily in a pond. Her hair plastered to her face while her dying body sunk and sunk towards the bottom. She could feel the coldness take over-the body already succumbing to the rapid changes in internal temperature. Soon, she'd be still and cold. Only, she didn't sink completely. A part of her tugged her to swim up, to propel herself upwards towards the light.
She listened to it.
To be continued.