A/N's at bottom.

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100


It takes a single second for everything to change. For a life to be completely uprooted, twisted and fucked sideways. And without those seconds, change would never occur. Irrevocable altering moments that define us would never happen and we would be stuck in a state of homeostasis forever. It isn't always good. The news we hear could crush us beyond any semblance of repair. Sometimes it's the rejection of it that makes it all the worse, the refusal to believe. We like comfortable, we like constancy and normal. So when change does occur we hope despite all odds. We pray the steadfast plea that everything happens for a reason. And it is a reason in which we cling to desperately because we realize that without it we float endlessly.

The challenge isn't on fighting the old, but on learning to build on the new.

She hadn't known exactly when it all went to hell only that It did. The covert missions were always the hardest. Her team was good though, she had been confident in making the decision to go. She had hesitated only for a second before giving the go ahead – not that she had a choice to begin with. The Captain had merely done her a courtesy by asking. And despite everything that had happened in the short span of time, she still held to that confidence. Her team was good. They were the best. They would make it through this.

They had to.

She moved quickly. Quietly rounding corners and taking cover before turning. The rifle was pointed straight and her finger bordered the edge of the trigger. She had learned to tune out the screams long ago, learned to march bravely through the haze of endless gun fire. It was a familiar tune to her, the beats of empty bullets on empty walls. She was loathe to admit that she had memorized the sound of when a bullet found its mark though. When tiny compacted metal rounds found its home in a beating chest. The dull impact that resonated never failed to cause the bile to build in her throat before she kept on moving forward.

She rounded another corner carefully as a small boy and his mother entered her view. The loading of a gun was all she got as a warning. "Get down!" She yelled crouching low as bullets began their descent. They were only a few feet away and yet it might as well been miles. "Get down!" She shouted again as they attempted ran in the opposite direction.

The small rational voice in her head said it was already too late, that she was wasting her breath. Caught in a warzone, without a weapon or a vest you were as good as dead. They had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and still they would die. It didn't stop her from trying to save as many as she could. It didn't stop the desire to save before she killed.

Her heart hammered in her chest and the adrenaline kept her on overdrive. She was sure it was only the rush of energy that kept her from feeling the pain of her dislocated shoulder. Still for a moment that she sat crouched on the wall she closed her eyes if only for a moment.

No matter how many times she went through this she'd never get used to it. It would all feel like the first time. And while her mind always forgot the severity of the violence and destruction, her muscles coiled and sprang to action at the familiarity. Her fingers deft, she loaded her rifle before steadying her breath.

Breathe

Maybe that's why she was so good at this. She could just turn off. Everything inside her would just stop and she went on autopilot. She became numb. The only thing she could see – that she would allow herself to see – was the target. Everything else was just collateral damage. And that wasn't her fault. It couldn't be. Not now at least, not in this moment.

This was her home. Out on the field and in the middle of a shit storm was where she belonged. The explosions and cries always echoed in her ears. It was a playlist that never stopped. The ringing, the gunshots, the blood, the death…. that was where she became alive. That's where she was finally awake.

In

A part of her realized she wasn't proud of that. That it wasn't healthy. And yet she never stopped. This is what she was good at. Even if she hated herself for it. And because she was here, because she chose to do this she would do the unspeakable things so that others didn't have to. She could bear the cross so that others wouldn't feel it weight. After all wasn't that the point of enlisting?

Out

Her mind settled. She didn't have to be proud she decided. She just had to do her job for all those couldn't and for all those who did and hadn't made it back. The faces of those she lost and the face of those a world away were enough to make her stay. If she had to see this so that they didn't then so be it. She would choose this a million times over; she would suffer a thousand deaths. For them.

Because that is what it meant to serve your country.

Fire

She moved. Quick to rise from the depth of her shadow, she lined them up. The rush of air as bullets passed her face and the loud pop as the guns exhaled in agony. Bang. The machine weapon pulsed in hand coming to life angrily. Even in the dark her green eyes followed the red dot that settled in the middle of another forehead. Target after target, they all fell. Bang. Bang. She didn't think about the families, didn't think about the lives they might have had. She had her own people. They had chosen their sides. Now they all had to follow through on their choices. No matter the consequence.

Bang. A young man crumpled to the ground, his body lifeless on the ground. He couldn't have been out of high school yet. The gun that had previously been pointed at her head dropped to the ground. The loud clatter echoed through the room and the woman next to him started screaming. Her eyes were tearful and she begged to a body that wouldn't move again.

She moved on quickly not giving them another glance. In another lifetime she might have been sorry. They might have been allies and friends. But not she couldn't afford to be, she couldn't allow it.

Pain seared through the side of her arm. She sucked in a breath to hold in the pain before kneeling and turning. She fired three rounds. Bang. In boot camp everyone had always known her for her precision and accuracy. She didn't even need to look as she heard the sound of bullets. Thud. Thud. Thud. It was a woman this time. The surprise and fear that etched itself on to her face burned in her mind.

It was either you or them. She had to keep thinking that. She had to.

Keep moving Woods.

The air smelled like copper. It was thunderously loud, but over her own heavy breathing she didn't hear anything else. Her vision – at best – was six feet if she was being generous. Everyone always had the assumption that night attacks were better. You had the element of surprise and you were in and out. Most times they were right, surprise on the enemy was always an advantage.

But damn if it wasn't hard to fucking see.

The dust was worse. It was literally everywhere. Whoever had decided that the desert was the best place to start a war was an idiot. It sucked. A lot. She liked to pride herself on not complaining about many things, but if there was one thing she hated it was the damn dust. Often many of the soldiers wore bandanas or bandeaus to keep it out of their faces best they could.

She cleared the next room. Four more men shot down and she found herself chewing the bottom of her lip. It was a bad habit that only happened when she was nervous. She turned another corner, rifle raised. Civilians raised their arms in fear crying as they hid in corners, but the target wasn't there.

"Northwest wing clear." She mumbled through the radio come even though she had lost contact with her team over a half hour ago. When the helicopter had been shot down they had barely made the landing. She didn't even know if the other chopper had made it. When they finally made land they had met with fire – a force which according to Intel wasn't supposed to be there. Either way it had forced everyone to different directions.

She wasn't worried though. She had faith. Her team was the best. She had made damn sure of that. They all knew the parameters of the mission and would attain it at all cost.

It was a simple enough operation. They had gotten the Intel only hours ago, but it had given them the location of the Taliban leader they had been searching for for months. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. The Sergeant in charge had made the quick decision and they had been deployed.

Find him. Kill him. Disappear.

Green eyes glanced around the last room anxiously. All clear. The target should have been here. She had been the one with the exact locations to his lodgings and whereabouts. Yet the empty bed in front of her and the drawers that had been ripped open and emptied said otherwise.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Rooms were cleared out that weren't supposed to be and despite the viscous fire that had met them on the choppers, the compound had been relatively clear. It was when the radio started to interject that the trouble they were in was finally starting to settle in.

"Comm— er! Wh…. a..e yo..?" The familiar sound of a man's voice echoed through a new channel that she was unfamiliar with. It wasn't the one they had established, but plans rarely stayed together in battle. The radio mission came through again. This time it was clearer. "Comm...der! Alexandra! Come on where are you?! Alexandra! Damn it!"

Lexa picked up the com frequency before speaking. "I'm here Lincoln. What's your status? I couldn't capture target." She asked with her finger still on the trigger of the rifle. She couldn't shake the terrible feeling that had built in the bottom of her stomach.

"Shit, thank God you're there. Lexa we don't have time. You need to-" Lincoln's voice was frantic over the line as it fizzled in and out. It had been a long time since she had heard him like this. He wasn't an easily spooked man.

"I need you to repeat. What is the status of the compound?" She asked calmly.

"Commander you need to leave! It was a trap; the compound is rigged to blow! Get the fuck out of there!" She could make out the sound of gunfire in the background. "Alexandra now!" The usually calm man demanded of her as if knowing she was frozen to the ground. "Run! Five minutes before they blow this place to hell! You have to make it back to the chopper!"

Finally Lexa felt herself surge forward as she cursed loudly. She tore through the building moving as fast as her body would carry her. If there was ever a moment where she hated the fifty pound equipment that covered her it was now.

She moved through the rooms with astonishing speed as she rounded corners of rooms she previously cleared. If she saw any civilians she would warn for them to run, but there wasn't time to stop, to tell them that all would die. It was her or them. At least that's what they taught you in basic training.

A neat trick she had picked up in the army seemed to have been time. She could look at the sky or the sun at any given moment and be able to tell you what time it was. She was also very acutely aware of the time that had passed and how long it took people to do things. It was why that when Lincoln had given her the count down her internal clock had been set. Now it was merely a race against time and she was already wasting seconds.

3 minutes 59 seconds

What little time was left was ticking away and Lexa had no intentions of being anywhere near the blast once it went off. She was familiar with bombs. Could turn them inside out and be able to tell you the purpose of every wire and machinery that made it go boom. She had learned a long time ago that the Taliban had a knack for making them.

She knew that the second it went off the compound would be blown off the surface of the land. The only thing that would be left was a gaping black hole and the seared body of ashes that it had left in its wake. It would permanently scar the land and would live to be a testament of their feud.

That – she had also decided – was the purpose of bombs. To make things go boom and to make sure people would never fucking forget it.

She hopped over debris and tore through rooms. She wasn't far. She could make it. She just had to keep running. Sweat and grime stuck to her face and she could feel the way brown hair matted against her forehead through the helmet. Her shoulder ached from where she was positive she dislocated it earlier and her arm was still bleeding. The gash in her leg would have given her cause to worry if she hadn't forced herself to focus on everything but the pain. Right now, she just needed to run.

2 minutes 27 seconds

"Fuck," She cursed under her breath as she hopped over another lifeless body. Lexa could see the entrance now. It was so close. And as she barged the doors pushing through the heavy metal, she could make out the distant figure of Lincoln and Indra in the distance. He waved her down, the frantic movements of his body noticeable. She even saw his mouth move, but heard nothing that he might have said.

Indra was covering her. The darker woman taking aim to the space behind her as she ran. Lexa didn't spare a glance back, knew she didn't have the time. She trusted her second in command to take care of her. No bullet would touch her of that she was sure.

55 seconds

Only sixty feet left. "Move faster." Lexa willed herself to keep going forward, to propel herself as fast as she could. When she was in shouting distance of her two spotters she saw them pack up and run. They were close, they could make it. "Come on!" She heard Indra yell.

30 seconds

And then Lincoln was shot. She heard the bullet before she saw it find its mark. It tore through his calf and the next shot ripped through his side. He went down hard and it was only a moment that Lexa had to make her decision. She made eye contact with Indra only briefly before nodding.

Lexa skidded to a halt dropping to a knee and lining up her shot. Breathe. She pleaded to her racing heart as she fired. She had to give them as much cover as she possibly could and for as long as she could which arguably wasn't much.

Behind her she didn't need to see Indra yank Lincoln up despite his screams of pain. She knew Indra would drag the bear of a man across a damn ocean to pull him to safety. They all would.

15 seconds

She could hear Lincoln's cries to leave him. She could hear his shouts for her to move and run. But for this to work they had to time it right. For them to live she had to test the lines. She wasn't a woman of many words, but her way of living was simple enough. They came here together, they left here together. He would get over his pride another day, a day in which hopefully they would all still be breathing.

10 seconds

It was only when she heard Indra's gruff call and the sound of propellers screaming that she moved. Lexa didn't bother taking her rifle or any of her gear, leaving it on the ground. The only thing that mattered was getting to the chopper. She would make it. She had to.

The large beat of the scissor wings cut through the air seamlessly crying in triumph. She could see the frantic captain through the window try to hold his position for as long as he could as he floated precariously over the ground. He couldn't wait forever.

5 seconds

Another sound of gun fire rang out and Lexa stumbled when a burning pain ripped through her abdomen and her shoulder. She held in the cry she wanted to let loose at the throbbing her body. She vaguely made out Indra screaming for her to jump. They couldn't wait any longer and through blurry sight she saw the chopper begin to rise in the air. It was now or never.

"Jump. You need to jump." Her mind commanded of her despite the pain.

She nodded herself before putting every last ounce of energy she had into one more run. The brunette needed as much momentum as she possibly could if this was going to work. And when she reached as close as she could get she felt her knees bent and she could only hope that she could make it.

1 second

When her feet left the ground, she felt the blast. She felt the air leave her lungs as she was thrown into the side of the chopper. She was almost sure she broke something on contact, the large audible crack heard above all the noise. She faintly recognized that her head and banged against something hard and the ripping agony when she felt something tear through the back of her thigh was the worst pain she could have ever imagined. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the weightlessness of which her feet dangled in mid-air and the tight hold of her wrist as Indra caught her from falling into a sea of flames.

The next time Lexa would wake up it would be to see a whirl of blonde and a sea of blue eyes. The pain she felt was unimaginable and the scream tore itself from her throat. It hurt, it all hurt. And most of all Lexa realized she was afraid. For the first time in a long Lexa Woods was so very afraid and cold.

"I-I don't want…. to die…." The whispered admission came from her lips unknowingly and for a moment Lexa thought no one had heard her, but then warm determined blue eyes met hers.

"Don't worry." She heard her say softly. "I've got you. You're not going anywhere." Her tiny smile was the last thing Lexa a saw. "I promise."


A/N – Hey, long time no see. Something I just kind of thought of and thought I would put down. I've got some ideas for it, but will see how everyone takes the first chapter. Otherwise I hoped you liked it and I plan to try and update some of my other stories soon…. so yeah.

Be awesome and leave a review. There much appreciated and just as a note I'm not particularly knowledgeable on med stuff or army stuff so keep that in mind please. If I ever say something incorrect or write something inaccurate about that just let me know and I'll fix it.

Thanks, CF