Escape
Chapter One
Clarke takes a deep breath, drawing the oxygen into her lungs before shakily pouring it back out. She can feel an unfamiliar presence beneath her fingers. Looking down to see what the foreign object could be, she realises that she is unable to see. She is blind as images from recent months washed over her. Her knees become weak, her eyes flicker as her brain pounds against her skull, trying to break free from the visions she knows are soon to come. She shakes her head frantically, trying to focus on the mission at hand. Static seeps into her ears, preparing for the sound of various voices to invade her ear cavities. Her vision is engulfed by images of black war paint, braided, brown hair, beautiful pink lips and gorgeous green eyes that soften just for Clarke.
The world around her slips away completely and she is standing in front of the woman she fell for, the woman who betrayed her. Clarke notices observes the throne she sits in, the bed she sleeps in and finally; her. She is wearing her war paint, her thick, brown locks tied back into braids, sitting proudly atop her head. Her armour too big for her, weighs heavily on her shoulders, but she shows no signs of pain, of pressure, of weakness. Piercing green eyes could intimidate the largest of warriors, but not Clarke. Clarke finds beauty in pain, fear in bravery, and strength in weakness. She feels safe when she looks into those eyes, the eyes that have captivated her from the moment she entered that tent. She is pulled from her trance by a voice, a voice so soft and warm, she feels she could wrap it around her and be protected from the harsh, winter storms.
"You think our ways are harsh, but it is how we survive."
Clarke doesn't know why she's speaking, what she's saying, but she says it anyway, as if some invisible force is drawing her in closer towards The Commander.
"Maybe life should be about more than just surviving." She should have stopped there.
But she didn't. "Don't we deserve better than that?"
"Maybe we do."
Clarke looks toward the woman as she speaks, not expecting what was to come. As her eyes meet The Commander's, a hand gently collides with the side of her face, pulling her in closer to the woman before her. Clarke almost melts at the touch, but she doesn't have time. Soft lips are placed against her own, eager but gentle, saying so many words. The Commander has been waiting so long for this moment, yet she cares too much for Clarke to rush the kiss the two women are sharing. This moment would be sacred to them for the rest of their lives. Clarke is the first to pull away.
"I'm sorry. I'm, I'm not ready, to be with anyone, not yet."
The Commander nods and Clarke can see the pain in her eyes. This was about more than The Commander just wanting to kiss her, this went deeper. Clarke could see that and she feels bad for lying, she has to leave. She excuses herself from The Commander's tent, stumbling outside, only to fall to the ground in a heap. How could she have done this? Before she can crumble into the dirt, becoming one with the earth, she catches a glimpse of a familiar face. Shit. She quickly gathers herself, pushing up off of the ground and walking towards the slicked back hair and broad shoulders she had learned to love. They meet half way through the gathered tents and bustling crowds.
"Can we get out of here?" A devilish grin spreads wide across his face and Clarke feels uneasy.
"Finn, we're in the middle of a war, can it not wait?"
His grin falls from his face as he places his hand, a little too roughly, around her arm. "This will just take a second." The grin is back.
Clarke nods reluctantly, ignoring the searing pain pulsing through every nerve in her arm. She lets him drag her through the crowds and into the canopy of trees. He walks so fast and Clarke struggles to keep up, tripping over tree roots and falling into dips in the ground. Her knees buckle and the earth slips from beneath her feet as she hits the dirt beneath her, head first. A hiss escapes from between her lips as she feels a tug on her upper arm, lifting her up from the ground. It takes a couple of seconds for her feet to hit the dirt again and she realises that Finn had been dangling her in the air like a rag doll. Another sharp tug on her upper arm encourages her to move and she is sure that her shoulder had been dislocated.
Another yard or so and they come to a stop. Clarke looks around, seeing nothing but trees, until Finn lifts a tree branch, exposing a towering mountain. She forces a smile to spread across her face as Finn once again, tugs at her upper arm, this time, pulling her towards the ground. She winces in pain, focusing too heavily on the feeling, unable to comprehend what Finn was planning paces beside her. She can't see him positioning himself, on one knee.
"Clarke, will you marry me?"
That's it? No apology, no speech. What a coward. She has already decided. She does not want to marry this man, she should say no. She will say no!
"Yes."
He lifts her into the air, squeezing her rib cage until it cracks beneath her skin. She cannot breathe, she cannot think as the world slowly begins to slip from her senses. A weight is lifted from her chest, accompanied by the sound of flesh colliding with bone. She hears a female voice calling out to her but it is too late, she has lost consciousness.
"Clarke!"
"Clarke!"
She is beginning to wake up, the voice is no longer female.
"Clarke!"
She is back at the mountain, her hand on the lever.
"Clarke, we need to do this."
This voice is not the voice she heard at the mountains with Finn. This voice is deeper, male. This voice belongs to Bellamy Blake. She shakes her head, removing the last images of the mountains, Finn and The Commander from her mind. She looks down at her hand, seeing the silver engagement ring on her fourth finger and suddenly wondering where the ring had come from. Had Finn stolen it? Was it his Mother's? His Grandmother's? She looked to her left, seeing the dark brown, almost black, curls that had provided comfort from the day she landed on Earth. She nods at the man and in unison, they pull their hands backwards, taking the lever with them. They had irradiated level five, together. They had rescued their people, together. They had killed every last one of the mountain men, together.
Clarke watches as Octavia and Finn begin to free their people from the leather cuffs they were bound by. Blood covers the floor, the walls and her people. She cannot stand to watch any longer. With their mission complete, and a heaviness in their hearts, Clarke and Bellamy leave the control room, wanting to see the true extent of the destruction they had caused. They received no less as they entered the dining room. The carpet could not be seen beneath the mountain of bodies, some propped up in chairs, expecting dinner. What they received instead was suffocation, searing pain throughout their bodies as the life was sucked from their bodies. Monty had been trailing behind the two, as Clarke stumbles upon a weeping Jasper. He holds Mia's body close to his chest, his voice barely a whisper.
"What did you do?"
Clarke's voice breaks, "We had no choice."
"I was gonna kill Cage, if you'd have just given me one more minute, it would have been over."
Bellamy sees how upset Clarke is by Jasper's words and steps in, his words drowning in sympathy.
"Jasper, they never would have stopped."
The three of them turn on their heels, leaving Jasper to mourn for however long he needs, as they gather their people and start the mile long journey back to their home. Clarke watches her people pour through the gate, her mother on a make-do stretcher, following Cage's search for bone marrow. Lincoln and Octavia walk through the gates, hand-in-hand, they feel sorrow for the lives lost but pride for the lives they saved. Jasper drags his feet across the dirt and over the threshold, into the camp. Raven in Wick's arms, after being injured by the bomb, she hands Jasper's goggles back to him as he thanks her. Finn must have slipped past in the crowd. Monty is the last one to enter the camp, after hugging Clarke, leaving Clarke and Bellamy outside the gates.
Bellamy is the first to speak. "I think we deserve a drink."
"Have one for me."
"We can get through this." His voice is almost desperate.
"I'm not going in."
"Okay, if you need forgiveness, I'll give that to you." Now he is desperate, "You're forgiven."
He pauses, "Please, come inside."
"Take care of them for me."
"Clarke-,"
She cuts him off. "Seeing their faces every day, is just gonna remind me of what I did to get them here."
"What we did! You don't have to do this alone."
"I bear it, so they don't have to."
"Where you gonna go?" He questions, sadness dripping from his words.
"I don't know."
She's honest as she gently kisses him on the cheek and pulls him in for a hug. Without pulling away she whispers, "May we meet again," her voice cracking. She leaves him there, barely hearing him repeat her own words to her. Today, she starts again.