AN: I love Lost and the 100, and I was rewatching the season and got inspired! This will follow some parts of each show. I wasn't planning on including the science fiction aspect, but if that's what people want, I can! FYI, flashbacks are in italics!
Day 0
Eyes shoot open, blue assaulted with visions of green – green bushes, green leaves, green trees. Still stunned, the blonde woman lies there on the ground and tries to catch her breath and remember what is going on. She moves to sit up but winces as a pain sears through her side.
Suddenly, she hears the crack of a branch, and she turns her head towards the sound of the noise. She watches as a yellow lab walks towards her and stops above her, bending down to place a sloppy, wet kiss to her cheek. She groans and moves her head away from the assault as pain lances through a cut on her cheek. After another lick over her mouth, the dog whimpers and turns and runs into the forest.
The blonde wrinkles her brow in confusion. 'Why am in the forest? Why is there a dog here?' She grabs a nearby tree with her left hand and uses it to pull herself to a seated position, releasing a groan of pain from her side. She lifts up the edge of her white button down and finds red streaked across her side and stomach, but luckily it doesn't seem that it is a serious injury. Pushing through the pain, she staggers to her feet, leaning against a tree for support.
She puts her hand to her temples, trying to rub away the headache that has formed there. After another moment of catching her breath and cataloguing the pain from her injuries, she decides that she is all right to move and starts stumbling through the forest. After 100 feet, she hears faint noises and starts to speed up. When she determines that those noises are screams, she breaks into a shaky run, sprinting through the forest towards the source of the noises. The light in the forest grows stronger, and she pushes herself, knowing that the end is close. As she breaks through the last of the pushes, the bright light assaults her, and she is momentarily blinded. She holds up her hands to block some of the light, and her vision quickly adjusts.
The blonde finds herself gazing at a beautiful beach with soft white sand, and the bluest ocean she has ever seen extending to the horizon. A gentle breeze lifts some of the strands of hair from her neck, cooling her. Then, she hears a scream coming from her right. Stepping out a few feet past the rest of the bushes, she is greeted with the sight of hell.
Airplane wreckage is strewn across the beach, some on fire and some still running, but all disjointed from its original shape. Black smoke distorts the air, creating a haze across the beach. Yells cut through the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Bodies are running around aimlessly or lying completely still on the beach.
For a moment, the woman is stunned at the contrast of this hellish scene in this tropical paradise, but the sound of a scream pushes her from her inactivity. She starts jogging towards the wreckage, looking for people who need help. She sees wounded already being aided and dives further into the wreckage, walking past people huddled together in fear. Over the loud sound of machinery and distressed cries for loved ones, she hears a call for help.
"Help! Help me, please! Somebody help!"
Navigating through the broken pieces of airplane and luggage, she runs toward the sound, finding a brunette, Latina woman trapped under a piece of wreckage. Looking around, she spies three men nearby.
"You three, get over here and help me!" She points to the wreckage, and they move quickly to comply with her request. The men grab the wreckage and she grabs the trapped woman's arms. "Lift on three, OK? One, two, THREE."
The men heave upwards and the blonde pulls with all her strength, dragging the woman out from under the wreckage and onto the sand. Bright red blood pools onto the crystal white sand underneath the woman's left leg, and the blonde quickly removes her belt to tie a tourniquet around the woman's thigh. At least one bone looks broken, but she won't be able to do anything about that until rescue comes.
"Carry her away from the smoke and the wreckage, and cover her leg with a towel or a blanket, just try to keep the sand and dirt away from it." The men nod at her orders and quickly move to pick the woman up.
Another distressed scream alerts the blonde, and she looks up to see a pregnant woman gasping for breath on all fours a hundred yards away. Leaving the Latina in hopefully good hands, she starts sprinting towards the pregnant woman, leaping over and around wreckage in her haste.
Sliding to a stop on the sand in front of the dark skinned, black haired young woman - a girl really – the blonde grabs the younger woman's shoulders to make eye contact.
Panicked brown eyes meet blue. "Please, I'm having contractions. Help me, I-" the woman is cut off as she starts gasping for breath as pain lances through her body.
"How far along are you?" The older woman says as she grabs the younger woman's hand, trying to comfort her.
"Nearly 8 months. Please, it's too soon…"
"How far apart are the contractions? Did your water break?" The blonde looks around for a safe spot away from the wreckage that the pregnant woman can go to when she spots a tall, curly haired man performing chest compressions on another man.
The pregnant woman's distressed voice brings the blonde's attention back to her. "I, I don't know, they just started."
An explosion sounds somewhere behind them, and the older woman pushes the pregnant woman down to the ground, covering her body with her own. Flames shoot into the sky and flaming pieces of metal fly through the air, landing randomly and hitting several bystanders.
When the noise dies down, the blonde pulls the pregnant woman back upright, cupping her face with one hand. "Look, sweetie, it's going to be OK. But you have to do exactly what I tell you. I'm going to move you somewhere safe, and then I need you need to sit absolutely still. I know your contractions hurt, but I need you to try and relax as much as possible." A pained expression takes over the woman's face again as another contraction rips through her.
Looking around for some assistance, she finds the man still performing chest compressions. Frustrated, she finds a tall, greasy haired man sauntering by. "Hey, you!" The blonde shouts at him.
Startled, the man stops, and upon seeing the pregnant woman, his eyes widen and he starts backing up. Before he can go too far, the blonde grabs his arm in a fierce grip, stopping him.
"I need you to take this woman over there, away from the smoke and fumes."
A disgusted look takes over the man's face. "No way lady, I'm not…"
The blonde tightens her grip and glares the man down. "Unless you want her giving birth on the beach in the middle of the wreckage, I need you to do as I say." His eyes widen, from fear at her intense glare or fear of childbirth, she isn't sure, but it doesn't matter. "Take her over there and try to keep her calm and still. If her contractions start coming closer than 3 minutes apart, yell for me."
"You've got to be shitting me…" The man grumbles.
The blonde turns away from the man and looks at the pregnant woman. "I will be right back, OK? He's going to take care of you." Brown eyes widen in fear, but the older woman has to go help the man performing chest compressions.
In her haste to get away, the blonde doesn't see the man picking the pregnant woman up in his arms and start striding away with her. "I'm Maya." The young woman shyly tells him. "Murphy." The man grumpily huffs back at her.
"Hey! Blondie!" A snarky voice calls out from behind her. "What's your name?"
The blonde doesn't pause but merely yells over her shoulder, "Clarke!"
Running up to the man doing CPR, Clarke shoves him away from the other man. "Stop! His head isn't tilted far enough back. You're blowing air into his stomach, not his lungs." She tilts the prone man's head back farther and opens his mouth, pinching his nose and blowing air into his lungs.
"Are you sure? That looks exactly like what I was just doing." The curly haired man questions her. "I'm a lifeguard, I am licensed in CPR."
Clarke blows another puff of air into the man's throat and puts her ear close to his mouth, listening for breath sounds. Hearing none, she sits up and starts performing chest compressions. Glaring at the man, she tells him, "You should seriously consider giving that license back."
Watching Clarke pump on the dark skinned man's chest, the curly haired brunette comes up with an idea. "Maybe we should do one of those things, with the pen? Stab the pen in her throat? That thing?"
Clarke looks up at him in exasperation that he wants her to do a tracheotomy with a pen on a beach in the middle of a plane crash, but when she sees that he is serious, she takes the opportunity to get rid of him. "You know, great idea! You go find me a pen."
The man scrambles away, calling out to people and asking if they have a pen. Clarke rolls her eyes and finishes her round of chest compressions, then bends down to breathe into the man's mouth again.
"C'mon, breathe dammit!" Clarke starts chest compressions again, pumps a few times, and suddenly, a gasping breath sounds from beneath her hands. Clarke puts her hands on the man's chest to gently prevent him from getting up. "Deep breaths, you're OK, easy." Clarke tells him with relief. "Nathan, it's Clarke, I'm a doctor."
"Hey." The man chokes out, coughing and trying to catch is breath. Clarke soothingly rubs his chest, but is startled by the loud, creaking sound of metal. Turning around, she sees a wing of the plane teetering upright, about to break and fall to the ground, right on top of the pregnant woman and the man who was supposed to be helping her.
Without hesitation, Clarke jumps up and takes off running across the sound, ignoring the burning in her calves from running through the sand in flats and the pain from wound on her side. Gasping for breath, she starts yelling at them, but they don't seem to hear her over the loud sounds of machinery.
Suddenly, a skinny woman dressed in what appears to be a business suit with a skirt is running towards the two, yelling at them and urging them up. Clarke can only watch as the wing of the plane starts teetering and falls, causing another loud explosion. Clarke is thrown back, and she curls into a ball and covers her head when a larger, second explosion occurs. As soon as the heat and the noise dies down, she stands, greeted with a wall of flame in front of her. Quickly, she runs around it, hoping that they made it to safety.
Clarke makes it around the flames and finds the pregnant woman on the ground shielded by the brunette's body. The reluctant man is lying next to them, gasping for breath. Clarke breathes a sigh of relief but still runs over to them.
"Are you OK?" Clarke gasps, breathless from her sprint across the sand.
The brunette woman looks up from where she is helping Maya sit up. Deep green eyes meet blue, and for a moment, Clarke feels like she is surrounded by green once more, just like when she woke up moments ago in the forest surrounded by green.
"I believe that we are all fine, or as fine as anyone can be after a plane crash." The brunette gives Clarke the hint of a smile, and Clarke can't help but smile in return.
Forcing herself to wrench her gaze away from the brunette, she turns to the man. "And you?" When he gives her a thumb up, she sighs. "Stay with her, understand?"
Through his pants, Murphy manages to choke out, "Whatever you say, Princess."
Clarke rolls her eyes and heads back towards the wreckage, looking to provide aid to anyone else she can. When she hears footsteps behind her, she turns to glare at Murphy for leaving Maya, but her face softens when she sees that it's the brunette woman. Clarke realizes that the woman is not dressed in a business suit, but an army dress uniform.
"I have some experience with triage, I thought I could provide some assistance?"
"Of course, that would be great." Clarke tells her, and together the two return to the wreckage to help their fellow survivors.
After everything has quieted down and there are no more critically injured patients to attend to, Clarke sneaks away to the biggest piece of the wreckage, the middle of the plane where they were all sitting. The front and back of the plane are both gone, leaving a hollow tube open on both sides filled with seats, luggage, and bodies. Clarke pauses for a moment, bracing herself against the side of the plane, taking a moment to feel the loss of all the people who had died today. Her inner thoughts are interrupted by the lifeguard who approaches her.
Holding out a handful of pens, the man tells her, "I didn't know which one would work best."
Clarke looks down at them and takes them, shoving them in her pocket. "They're all good. Thank you." She gives him a small smile, which he returns with a nod.
Holding out his hand, he tells her, "I'm Bellamy."
Clarke shakes his hand briefly, exhaustion shooting through her. "Clarke."
The man looks like he wants to say more, but Clarke turns away from him and heads into the wreckage to search for supplies. At her obvious dismissal, he turns and walks away.
Clarke makes her way towards the flight attendant's cart, searching through the drawers for alcohol. She pockets the two bottles she finds, and then heads out of the wreckage to look in the checked luggage strewn across the beach. After searching several suitcases, she finds a sewing kit, which she pockets. Grabbing a shirt from the suitcase, she slowly jogs away from the survivors and into the woods.
Clarke doesn't go too far, just far enough away that she doesn't have to hear the cries and yells of the wounded. Slowly, she unbuttons her shirt and carefully slips out of it, wincing as the blood soaked fabric is pulled away from the wound. Breathing hard at the pain, she sinks to her knees in the sand, steeling herself for what she is going to do. Lifting her left arm up, she uses her right arm to probe the gash on her side, wincing at the pain. She lets out a sharp breath of frustration when she realizes that she can't reach her wound.
Clarke sits for a moment, wondering what she is going to do, when, suddenly, the brunette from earlier emerges from amongst the foliage, visibly startling Clarke.
"My apologies, it was not my intention to startle you." The brunette gives her a small apologetic smile.
Clarke waves a hand through the air. "It's fine, I just didn't hear you coming." Realizing that she is shirtless in front of the woman, she blushes and crosses her arms over her chest.
The brunette politely averts her eyes as she tells Clarke, "I just wanted to check on you. I saw you head in here and…" The woman rubs the back of her neck with one hand as she pivots around. "Well now that I know that you're fine, I'm just going to go."
The brunette only makes it a few steps before Clarke calls out to her. "Wait!" The woman pauses, but doesn't turn around. "How do you feel about needles?"
The brunette turns around with a raised eyebrow aimed at Clarke and eyes that respectfully stay focused on her face and not her cleavage. Well, those green eyes glance down once, but so quickly that Clarke is almost sure she imagined it.
Clarke lifts up her arm and turns her body, displaying the gash on her side. "I could use some help with this. I would do it myself, I'm a doctor, but I can't reach it. Do you mind?"
"I figured as much." The woman tells her as she strides towards Clarke.
"Figured what?" Clarke looks at her questioningly.
"That you were a doctor. I mean, I hoped you were, seeing as how you set a woman's leg half an hour ago."
Clarke looks at the woman with surprise, unsure if she is joking. When the woman smiles and winks at her, Clarke knows she is. "Here," Clarke playfully huffs as she tosses one of the liquor bottles to the brunette, who catches it with ease.
As the green-eyed brunette pours the liquor on her hands, Clarke threads the needle with the black string. She ties off the end and uses the scissors to snip the loose end off. As the brunette kneels down at her side, Clarke hands her the second bottle, lifting her arm up to fully expose her side. "That's for the wound," she tells the woman.
Without any warning, Clarke feels intense pain burn through her side. She bends forward and grasps her thighs with her hands, shakily breathing through the pain. A soft, soothing touch rubbing small circles on her back makes her look up, and blue eyes meet green once more.
"I know that hurt, but I have found that the anticipation is often more painful than the actual pain. Best to get it over with as soon as possible."
"Not like you gave me a choice anyways." Clarke softens her harsh words with a small grin.
The brunette rolls her eyes and lifts Clarke's arm upright so that she can see the wound again. Deftly, she unhooks Clarke's bra with one hand, causing Clarke to bring her arms down to cover herself in embarrassment.
The green-eyed woman just takes Clarke's left arm and lifts it up once again. "The end of the wound is under your bra."
"Oh…OK" Clarke blushes with embarrassment at her reaction and looks away, knowing that if she allowed herself to observe the pretty, focused brunette much longer, she would be unable to look away. When she places her hand on Clarke's ribs to hold her still, Clarke flinches slightly at the gentle touch.
Thinking that Clarke is nervous, the brunette tries to reassure her. "I have done this before, in a nonofficial manner, of course. My unit all learned basic first aid, and several times I found myself stitching up some of my men when a medic wasn't around."
Clarke winces as the needle pierces her skin, but nods her head at her. "Well, you don't seem afraid, and most people would have run for the hills if I asked them to stitch me up, so I figured so." Clarke turns her head to smile at the woman as she turns her words back on her.
However, she is too focused on making her stitches as clean and even as possible to see the teasing smile. She doesn't want to hurt this kind woman any more than she has to, and she wants to leave as small a scar as possible on this beauty. "I never said I was not scared. Fear is always with us, whether we are afraid to go on a date or afraid to run into battle, it is still fear. But we cannot let fear dictate our actions. Learning to handle the small terrors can help you face the big ones, and vice versa. Every time that I ran into battle, I was afraid – afraid for my life, afraid for my men, afraid of not knowing what was to come. But I knew that I had to deal with it. So I let the fear in, let it take over, let it do its thing, but only for five seconds. And every time before I got in a Humvee for patrol or I stood outside a building ready with my team to go search it, I would count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And then it was gone." As she finishes her story, she ties off the last stitch and cuts the string.
Clarke turns around to fully look at the woman. "You do that for everything that scares you? Even ordinary things?"
"Why do you think you were only here alone for 5 seconds?" The woman smiles at her, stands up, and walks away, leaving Clarke alone with her thoughts to get dressed.
As the sun sets over the horizon, the survivors find themselves in various places. When Maya had calmed down and her contractions had stopped, Murphy had left to go smoke a cigarette and watch as the other survivors built a fire and shelter for the night. Maya had gone to stand near the water, allowing the waves to wash up along her feet, and nearby, a tall, skinny, black man named Thelonius and his son Wells were sitting on the shore, gazing out at the waves. A pretty young blonde woman named Harper was passing out food to the others, while Bellamy was using nearly all his battery trying to dial 9-1-1.
A tall, muscled, man with a shaved head was feeding the fire as a skinny young boy watched. "Hey, what's your name?" Lincoln asks him.
Nervous that this dangerous looking man is talking to him, the boy murmurs, "Jasper."
"My name is Lincoln. Can you help with the fire? Just keep feeding it so that it stays big enough for a rescue party to see."
"Uh… Sure. I can do that." Jasper hesitantly tells him.
Lincoln nods at him before leaving to go help with the shelters.
Jasper adds another log to the fire and watches a man he had met earlier approach the fire to sit down. "Nathan, right?"
Nathan smiles at him and starts twirling the wedding ring on his left hand. "Yeah, but you can call me Miller."
Sensing that Miller is not in the mood to talk, Jasper sits quietly by the fire, getting up every once in a while to throw a log or a stick on it. Using a sharpie that he had found on the beach, Jasper uses it to write "FATE" on the tape wrapped around his fingers, one letter for each finger. Other than that, he doesn't move from his place by the fire, just stares into the flames. When the sun sets, Lincoln returns, sitting down next to him with a frustrated huff.
"You'd think they would have come by now." Lincoln tells him.
"Who?" Jasper asks.
"Anyone." Lincoln murmurs, a little forlornly.
As Jasper doesn't have an answer for Lincoln, he just stares into the fire.
Lincoln, however, finds his gaze drawn near another fire several yards away, in front of which a beautiful young brunette woman sits painting her nails.
The brunette finishes putting the polish on her nails just as her brother sits down on the edge of her towel. He holds out a granola bar, which she refuses to take.
"I can't eat that now, it would wreck my nails."
"Octavia, you should eat, you haven't eaten all day."
"Bellamy, why don't you eat it. My nails are drying." She flashes a fake smile towards him.
Bellamy huffs as he tosses the granola bar at her feet and turns away to face the fire without another word.
After a few moments, a shy looking woman comes by holding several trays. "Hi guys, I'm Harper. I figured the meals would go bad, so we should probably eat them now. Do you want one?"
Before Bellamy can speak, Octavia pipes up. "Yes please. Thank you Harper." Octavia takes it and immediately starts digging in, flashing a smirk at her brother. Bellamy rolls his eyes but takes his own tray, politely thanking Harper as well. After handing out meals to the other sitting around that fire, she walks over to the pregnant woman, who is sitting away from the fires on a piece of metal, staring out at the water.
"Hey, how are you? My name is Harper."
"Maya." Maya shyly tells her.
Harper takes a seat next to her and hands her a tray, then starts digging into her own. When Maya hesitates, surprised that this woman wants to eat with someone who is pregnant, alone, and very young to be having a baby, Harper gives her a gentle nudge with her elbow. "C'mon, you're eating for two in there. You know what, here, take another." Harper hands her another one with a smile.
Maya smiles back at the kind gesture, and starts eating her own dinner. When she has finished the first one and started on the second one, she sees Clarke and the brunette who had saved her walking towards her.
"Hey, Maya, right? How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, the contractions stopped, and I haven't felt anything since then. Thank you for helping me."
"Of course. I'm glad you're better." Clarke smiles at her, then turns to Harper. "I heard you're the one to see about the food."
Harper laughs softly and holds out two trays. "That would be right."
"Thanks." Clarke tells her as she and Lexa take their trays. As they turn to leave, Maya's voice calls out to them.
"Wait, I wanted to thank you."
Confused, Clarke turns around, but finds Maya directing her gaze towards her brunette companion, who is faintly blushing. "Oh, it was nothing. I'm just glad you're all right."
"You saved my life, that's not nothing."
Sensing that the brunette is still shy, Clarke smiles at Maya and tells her "Let me know if you need anything," then turns and leads her companion away to sit by another fire. The two eat in silence, lost in their thoughts and gazing into the flames. When she finishes her meal, Clarke sighs from exhaustion. When she looks over at the brunette, she finds her holding a leaf that she had bent to look like an airplane.
Quietly, Clarke asks her, "Do you remember what happened? The plane crash? I blacked out in the turbulence and woke up in the middle of the jungle…"
The brunette nods and holds up the plane. "We must have been at an elevation of around 40,000 feet when it started. We hit an air pocket, and I remember falling for several seconds, so we must have dropped around 400 feet. The turbulence was… brutal, so say the least. We started descending rapidly…" She pauses, for a moment, going still and quiet as she stalls by sweeping a loose curl that had fallen out of her bun behind one of her tiny ears. "I heard the tail break off… But the wind through the cabin was too strong to look back. I'm not sure how high we were when the front of the plane broke off, but… We hit the ground at an angle, sliding and rolling. It's a miracle any of us survived at all." She throws the plane into the fire, and the leaf burns quickly.
"Do you think there are other survivors? From the tail or the front of the plane?"
Cold green eyes look up from the fire to meet blue. "Honestly… No. But if we can, we need to find the front section of the plane. Hopefully the cockpit is mostly intact, and we can find the transceiver to send out a signal to the rescue party."
Clarke pauses, thinking, until she remembers something. "I saw some smoke, in the valley. If you go look for the cockpit, I want to come with you, in case there are survivors."
The brunette stares at her, searching for what, Clarke doesn't know. Slowly, she extends her hand to her. Clarke looks at it with confusion, but reaches her own out to shake hands with the brunette.
"Lexa."
"What?" Clarke looks at her with confusion, lost in pools of green eyes.
"My name is Lexa."
Clarke snaps out of it and smiles back at her. "Clarke."
A shy smile forms on Lexa's face. "Nice to meet you, Clarke."
Clarke shivers at the way Lexa says her name. Their moment is broken, however, by a moan coming from a nearby tent. "Break time is over, I guess, time to go check on the patients." Clarke sighs and stands up, holding out a hand to help Lexa up. Lexa refuses to take it, standing on her own.
"You shouldn't aggravate your wound." She gently chides Clarke, who blushes. Lexa gestures for Clarke to lead them to the tent they and other survivors had set up for the wounded.
Lexa follows Clarke as she rounds on all the patients. Fortunately, most of the injuries she had treated only need cleaning and stitches. There were a couple head injuries, sprains, and deep bruises that she would need to watch, but all in all most people had been lucky. The only two critical cases were the Latina woman named Raven who had a badly broken leg, and a large, bearded man with shrapnel in his stomach. Fortunately for him, Lexa had gotten to him and stopped the bleeding quickly.
Clarke uses a flashlight to check the edges of the wound, making sure there is no fresh bleeding. Blood still stains his bare chest, but for now, he appears stable and resting in an unconscious state. Clarke is surprised when Lexa speaks up, because she hadn't said a word for the past half hour they had been in the tent.
"Do you think he will live?"
Clarke looks up at her and despite the stoic expression on Lexa's face, she senses that something is different about this man. "Do you know him?"
Lexa nods once. "He's my second in command. His name is Gustus."
Shocked, Clarke can't speak for a moment. She wants to comfort Lexa, but doesn't think that empty words would be well received. "I don't know."
Lexa looks away for a moment, and then kneels down next to his side, taking his hand in hers. Her gaze doesn't leave his face as she tells Clarke, "You should go get some rest, I will stay with him for tonight."
"OK. I will be in the tent next door. Come get me if something changes, or you need a break." Clarke waits for a response, but all she gets is a nod. She stands up, groaning at the exhaustion she feels, and leaves Lexa alone with Gustus.
Clarke was lucky to get a seat on the plane in a row that was completely empty except for her. Although she hadn't taken advantage of the extra space yet, she knew this afternoon she would be stretching out on her three seats to take a nap. For now, she just sits and stares at the white, fluffy clouds out the window, watching as they fly by. Her thoughts are interrupted by the flight attendant.
"So, how's the drink?" The blonde asks Clarke with a flirty smile.
Clarke immediately turns on the charm. "It was great, thank you, Niylah." Clarke purrs the woman's name, eliciting a blush on the blonde beauty's cheeks.
Niylah bites her lip as she hesitantly asks Clarke, "So, would you like another? Maybe this time not at 40,000 feet in the air and with some company?"
Clarke licks her lips and lowers her voice to a husky whisper. "You know what, I would love that, but I'm still thirsty right now."
Niylah's eyes go wide but then she smiles and takes out a napkin, writing something on it before she hands it to Clarke along with a package of peanuts. With a wink, she turns and heads towards the back of the plane, pushing the drink cart.
When Clarke looks down at the napkin, she finds that Niylah had written 'back right bathroom, 5 minutes' on it. Pleased with herself, Clarke allows a smug smile to form on her face. She lifts up her tray table and locks it into place so that she has room to stand up, then walks out into the aisle. She is almost pushed back into the aisle seat as a tall, skinny, black haired young man shoves past her, ignoring the yells of several flight attendants behind him.
Clarke's eyes meet the exasperated face of a handsome man sitting in the aisle seat next to her. "I guess he really had to go." He chuckles, smiling at Clarke.
Clarke smiles and moves out of the way of the three flight attendants rushing down the aisle after the man. The plane shakes with some mild turbulence, so Clarke sits down in the aisle seat and buckles up, knowing that her meeting with Niylah will have to be postponed.
The pilot comes over the intercom, "This is your captain speaking. We have turned on the fasten seatbelt sign, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."
When Clarke looks around, she sees the panicked look on the face of the man next to her. "It's normal. Everything is fine." She tells him in a comforting voice.
He looks at her with a nervous smile. "I know, I just, never really liked flying. My husband keeps telling me that the odds of us crashing are very low, but I still get nervous. Usually, he can find some way to distract me throughout the flight, but he went to the bathroom."
Clarke smiles reassuringly and reaches over to briefly squeeze his hand. "Well, my name is Clarke, and I will keep you company until he gets back, OK?"
The man gives Clarke a weak smile. "Nathan."
The turbulence hits again, this time stronger, and Clarke tries to reassure him again. "Don't worry, it's going to be over soon."
Suddenly, the turbulence increases to a much stronger level, to the point where luggage starts falling out of the overhead compartments and passengers start screaming. Alarms start blaring and the plane continues to shake. Bright yellow oxygen masks fall from above their heads, which Clarke quickly grabs and deftly fits over her nose. She looks over to see Nathan desperately holding the mask to his face in terror. She wants to reach over to slide the elastic band behind his head, but the turbulence only increases. Fear starts to take over Clarke's body, and all she can do is tightly grip the armrests and hope for the best.
Day 1
The next morning, Clarke finds Lexa still at Gustus' side, but now she is wearing heavy boots, camouflage cargo pants, and a grey Army T-shirt. Her hair has been neatly braided back from her face, and a backpack sits by her side.
"Are you sure that you still want to go? I saw the smoke, I can find the cockpit, if you want to stay here with Gustus."
Lexa shakes her head and stands up, brushing sand off her pants. "Of course not, I'm coming. I can't let our only doctor wander around in a jungle containing God knows what, alone and unarmed."
Clarke smiles tentatively at Lexa. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go." Clarke walks out of the tent, but is stopped by Lexa's hand on her wrist.
"Were you able to find your luggage?"
Clarke's brows wrinkle in confusion. "No, why do you ask?"
Lexa sighs and looks down at Clarke's converse. "If you're going hiking through the woods, you're going to need better shoes."
Clarke gives Lexa a look as if it to say, 'where am I going to get a pair of shoes on an island.' Lexa's face turns grim, and she nods her head in the direction of the wreckage, where bodies are still lying in the sand. Clarke's face turns white, and at her look, Lexa puts a hand on her shoulder. "If you tell me your size, I can get you some."
Clarke shakes her head at her. "No, I can do it, I… I will meet you back here in 10 minutes."
Lexa nods, and leaves to go look through their meager supplies for water bottles and food to pack in her bag for the trip.
Clarke watches her leave, postponing what she knows she has to do, but when Lexa disappears amongst the wreckage and the other survivors, she turns to head towards the bodies. She looks around, and when she spots a nice pair of hiking boots on a woman who is lying face down in the sand, Clarke goes over to her and gently slides one off her foot. She checks the size and seeing that it should fit, she unties her own shoes, slips them off, and rolls up her jeans to slip the new ones on. She sits there for a moment, offering up a silent 'thank you' to this poor woman who hadn't survived, then pulls herself together and walks back towards the other survivors, looking for Lexa.
When Clarke sees Lexa in a circle of other survivors, she walks over to them to see what they are talking about. She sees Harper, but doesn't know who the rest of the people are. She decides to stand next to Lexa and listen in on what they are saying, but the conversation is at a standstill when she approaches.
Lexa takes it upon herself to assimilate Clarke into the group. "Clarke, this is Thelonius, his son Wells, Jasper, Bellamy and his sister Octavia, and another one of my unit's members Lincoln. We were just-"
Upon seeing Wells and Thelonius, Clarke interrupts Lexa and runs into Wells' open arms. "Oh my goodness, Wells Jaha? What are you doing on this flight? I can't believe it, I haven't seen you in years!"
Wells laughs as he picks her up and swings her around. "You haven't seen me in years? Whose fault is that little miss busy with medical school?"
Clarke laughs as he sets her down and playfully pushes out of his arms so that she can give Thelonius a much tamer hug. "What were you doing in Sydney?"
Thelonius gives her a warm, fatherly smile as he beams down at her. "I took Wells on a father-son vacation there to celebrate his election as Arkadia's mayor."
Clarke turns her smile onto Wells. "That's great! I'm so happy for you!"
Wells returns the smile but rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, the vacation didn't end as planned…"
Clarke's smile falls as she remembers where they are and what had happened yesterday.
Thelonius puts a comforting hand on Clarke's shoulder as he brings her into the group's previous conversation. "We were just talking about what we should do with the dead. What is your opinion on the matter?"
Still not fully recovered from her most recent brush with the dead, all Clarke can do is mutter, "The dead?"
Harper quickly explains. "I was just telling them that rescue isn't here yet, and it's disrespectful to leave people just lying in the sand. Not to mention the ones still in what's left of the plane…"
"Rescue will be here soon, they can deal with it when they get here." The young brunette, Octavia, Clarke believes, pipes up as she starts rubbing sunscreen on her arms and face.
Wells rolls his eyes at the young woman's complete disregard for the situation. "I think we need to start burying them today. We can't just leave them sitting in the sun."
As other people start chiming in their opinions, Clarke looks to Lincoln and Lexa, who are standing quietly next to her. "Lexa? What do you guys think?"
Lexa quietly but authoritatively growls "Hey!" loud enough to stop the group's bickering. When everyone quiets and looks at her, she starts to speak. "Clarke and I are going to look for the cockpit. If there are any survivors, we will bring them back here, and hopefully we can find the transceiver to send out a signal to the rescue party."
"I can come with you, help carry any survivors back." Bellamy pipes up.
Clarke does not want to spend all day hiking in the jungle fending of Bellamy's advances, but she knows that he wants to be part of the leadership. "No, you and Lincoln are the only ones with medical experience. I need you to stay and keep an eye on the wounded."
Bellamy's face falls, but Clarke takes his shoulder and pulls him out of the group slightly to give him instructions. "Raven needs to keep her leg still. It's splinted, but she still shouldn't be moving, and she can't put any weight on it at all. If Gustus wakes up, try to keep him calm and get him to drink some water, but don't take out the shrapnel, no matter what. Understand?"
Bellamy nods his head, still a little put out that he's not coming with them. "Yeah, I can do that."
While Clarke talks to Bellamy, Lincoln half listens to Clarke's instructions while also listening to Lexa. "Hopefully rescue will get here soon, but we can't leave the bodies out in the sun any longer than today. Lincoln, I need you to organize a group of people to strip the wreckage for everything and anything useful. Then, move all the bodies into the fuselage of the plane. They should be fine there for a few days. When rescue comes, they will want to bring the bodies back to their loved ones."
"Well, what does Clarke think? She's the doctor, shouldn't she have some input?" Wells glares distrustfully toward Lexa.
Hearing her name, Clarke jumps back into the conversation, which she had been half listening to while speaking to Bellamy. "I agree with Lexa. The bodies will smell, especially in this heat, but they won't start massively decomposing for another few days. The fuselage is a good place to contain the smell and the bacteria. However, burying them after a few days in the sun will be…" Clarke hesitates. She had seen a corpse left outside for four days when she had assisted a medical examiner on a case, and she shudders as she remembers it. Even covered head to toe in a gown, gloves, and mask, she had still felt the need to shower multiple times when she returned home afterwards. "Let's just say it will be messy."
That's when Lincoln catches on to Lexa's line of thought. "We aren't going to bury them, are we Heda?"
"No. Despite what you all may believe, digging a proper grave is extremely difficult, especially without the proper tools. Digging a mass grave… We can't do it. If rescue hasn't arrived in a few days, we will burn the bodies." Knowing that her words will no doubt just give rise to more arguing and that Lincoln can handle the politics for now, Lexa turns and strides towards the jungle, clearly ready to go. Clarke chases after her, catching up with her after a few strides.
Clarke gently bumps Lexa's arm with her own, making her presence known. "What did Lincoln call you? Heda? What does that mean?"
"Hey! Wait up! I will come with you!" Lexa and Clarke stop and turn as Jasper comes running up to them.
Lexa lifts her eyebrows at the skinny boy who looks more like a rock star than a hiker in his dark jeans, band T-shirt, and outrageous goggles on his head. "Can you keep up?"
Jasper adopts a swagger. "Of course. The real question is, can you keep up with me?" Jasper finishes his question with an exaggerated wink and a flirty smirk.
Lexa fiercely stares at him without uttering a word. The smile disappears from Jasper's face, and he seems to shrink into himself as she continues to glare at him. "Firstly, that was the worst attempt at flirting I have ever seen. Secondly, I'm very, very gay." Jasper's eyes bulge and his mouth drops, and Clarke starts giggling at Lexa's smack down. Lexa turns to Clarke with a raised eyebrow and a stony expression on her face. Clarke stops giggling but can't contain her smile as holds up her hands in defense. Lexa just rolls her eyes and turns her back on them; tossing over her shoulder, "Don't hold us up."
Clarke turns to Jasper with a smile and playfully punches him in the arm. "I don't blame you for trying, but man that was pitiful." At Clarke's words, Lexa looks over her shoulder at her, which Clarke returns with a wink. Quickly, Lexa turns her head forward, but Clarke can still see the red tips of her ears. Seconds later, Jasper crashes through the jungle after them, cracking sticks and sweeping aside branches in his haste to catch up to them. Lexa sighs; this is going to be a long hike.
Two hours later, Lexa, Clarke, and Jasper find themselves several miles inland, hiking through the valley. Lexa glances back and sees a sweaty, pink-cheeked Clarke several feet behind her and a gasping Jasper several yards behind Clarke. For moment, Lexa can only stare at Clarke's cleavage covered only by her small tank top because she had taken off her button down and tied it around her waist. Hoping that she can pass off the faint pink tinge to her cheeks as exertion, Lexa stops and takes off her backpack, pulling out two water bottles. She takes slow sips of one, and holds out the second one to Clarke, as she pauses to stare at the view. From here, the jungle, beach, and ocean create quite the picturesque view, to those who are unaware of the hell that had happened on the beach yesterday.
Clarke catches up to Lexa and takes the water bottle, trying to drink it slowly like Lexa had, but ultimately failing. Sure, she worked out, when she had time to, but she was in nowhere near as good a shape as Lexa, and it was hot and humid in the sun. It's not her fault that she was always busy at the hospital, and when she did have days off, she prioritized sleep, grocery shopping, and laundry over exhausting herself further.
When Jasper catches up to the two women he collapses, breathing hard. He falls back onto the ground, stretching out his arms and legs, trying to catch his breath. When he feels a tap on his shoulder, he opens his eyes to see Lexa holding a water bottle out to him, which he sits up to greedily start drinking from. Clarke lets out a soft laugh at how much he spills on himself in his haste to drink it, but just shoots her the finger and keeps drinking.
After catching her breath, Clarke catches sight of Jasper's T-shirt. "Wait, you know Dropship? I love them!"
"Know Dropship? I AM Dropship. I'm in the band, I play bass."
"No way! That's awesome! You guys used to be great; they played you in every club and bar when I was in college. I must have listened to that song thousands of times, what was it called?"
"Trip to the Ground! I helped write that song. And used to be great? We still are great. We were all set to start our comeback tour, but now…"
Noticing his melancholy mood, Clarke puts a hand on his shoulder. "Well, you're probably selling hundreds of records now, and when we get rescued, your comeback tour will be bigger than ever. I bet you could even write some kick ass songs here. Maybe your next single should be called 'Planecrash'?"
Jasper laughs, and starts beat boxing and rapping, making Clarke laugh. Lexa ruins their party, however, when she returns with a walking stick. "We need to keep moving, guys. We still have a lot of ground to cover if we want to get back to the beach before nightfall."
Clarke sighs and accepts the hand up from Lexa. "All right." The trio resumes their trek through the woods as dark storm clouds start rolling in from over the mountain.
Twenty minutes later, the clouds have blocked out the sun so much that it almost seems like it is twilight. Suddenly, with no build-up, a torrential downpour starts, drenching the three hikers within seconds. Clarke puts her button up shirt back on as goose bumps erupt on her arms despite the warm temperatures. The rain doesn't slow Lexa at all, but Jasper tries to hike his zip up sweatshirt over his head and block out some of the rain. When he realizes that it is futile, he gives up and hurries to catch up to Clarke and Lexa.
"Is this weather normal? Day turning to night? Sudden monsoons?" Jasper nervously asks.
"Yes, Jasper, we are in a tropical climate." Lexa huffs at him over her shoulder.
The group goes silent as they miserably trek through the rain. They only walk another 500 yards until they stumble upon the front half of the plane.
The white metal tube is slanted upwards, sticking out of the ground at a 45 degree angle, like an unnatural rock. Burn marks scorch the side and cracks run through the metal. The group pauses in awe, taking in the sight of something so unnatural smack in the middle of the jungle.
Without any fanfare, Lexa walks towards the plane, stepping over and around fallen trees, airplane wreckage, and luggage. Clarke and Jasper follow closely behind, both looking around for any survivors. When the group enters the plane, they are offered a brief reprieve from the rain.
"Hello? Is anybody here?" Clarke calls out, hoping for survivors.
When nobody answers, Lexa starts walking up the aisle, using the seats to help pull herself up. She stops to check for a pulse for everyone on her left, and Clarke follows, checking everyone on her right. Jasper follows behind, working hard not to touch any bodies.
When they make it to the front of first class, the seats are empty, and the steep incline is putting a strain on their muscles. Jasper slips, and grabs onto the first thing he can reach, which happens to be Clarke's foot. Clarke is yanked backwards with a yelp, alerting Lexa to her predicament. Lexa turns around just in time to see Clarke's fingers slip from her grip on the seat. Grabbing the metal leg of the seat with hand, she lunges her other hand towards Clarke, just managing to grab onto Clarke's hand. Quickly, Clarke brings her other hand up to grab onto Lexa's hand, locking them together. Lexa grunts as she now fully feels the weight of three people, but holds tight.
"Jasper, grab onto something." Lexa grunts at him.
Jasper flails around for a few seconds, and the cords of Lexa's neck strain, but she holds on. When Jasper finally grabs onto a seat and lets go, Lexa takes a deep breath. Instead of letting go of Clarke Lexa pulls her up towards her, and then puts her hand on Clarke's ass to push her ahead of her, past the seats and up into the flight attendant's area right behind the cockpit. Lexa looks back, and seeing that Jasper is safely in a seat, she grabs a fire extinguisher and pulls herself up to the door to the cockpit, right next to Clarke.
Through her harsh pants, Clarke gasps out, "Usually, I don't let people grab my ass until after a first date."
Lexa flashes Clarke a cocky smile through her own harsh breaths. "Call it my reward for saving you from clumsy over there." Lexa nods her head in Jasper's direction, and Clarke rolls her eyes and gently slaps Lexa's arm. When Lexa catches her breath a few seconds later, she takes the fire extinguisher and starts slamming it down onto the handle of the cockpit, trying to break it open.
After several hits, the door gives, and slams open as a body falls out, almost hitting them as it goes rushing past them and slams into the ground below. Clarke lets out a shriek and pulls Lexa back against her.
Breathing hard from the surprise and the effort of getting the door open, Lexa turns her head and pants out, "Are you OK, Clarke?"
Clarke nods. "Yeah. You good?"
Lexa nods, and pulls herself up into the cockpit, holding out her hand to help Clarke once she's inside.
"I'm fine too, you know! I'm just gonna hang out here!" Jasper calls out to them from below
Neither Clarke nor Lexa acknowledge Jasper's comment, both too busy. Lexa starts looking in cabinets for the transceiver, and Clarke goes to check the remaining pilot's pulse.
"He's alive!" Clarke joyfully shouts, which causes Lexa to move up to see the man. His face is covered in bruises, and he has a nasty laceration on his forehead, but there don't appear to be any other major injuries. Lexa pulls her hand back, and before Clarke can stop her, she slaps the pilot, who jolts to the side.
"What the fuck, Lexa?" Clarke angrily yells at her.
Lexa defends herself calmly. "Clarke, he will know where the transceiver is, and how to work it. He can't tell us any of this while he's unconscious."
Clarke glares at her. "That doesn't mean you can slap him! He's suffered a head wound and been in a plane crash, inflicting more bodily harm isn't going to help!"
Lexa doesn't answer, just inclines her head towards the man, who is groaning as he reaches up to hold his head. Seconds later, he opens his eyes.
Clarke shoots Lexa one more angry glare before turning her attention to the pilot. "Sir, how do you feel? My name is Clarke. I'm a doctor. Here let me get you something to drink."
Clarke looks at Lexa, who pulls a water bottle out of her pack and hands it to Clarke. She holds it up to the pilot's mouth, and he takes a sip, coughs, and then sips some more.
"How many survived?" He chokes out.
"At least 48." Lexa answers before Clarke. "We landed on the beach, and came here to get the transceiver. Do you know where it is?"
The man turns his head but then groans. "My head…"
Clarke gently removes his hand and peers into his eyes, examining his pupils and the wound on his head. "You most likely have a concussion. Do you have pain anywhere else?'
The pilot moves his arms and legs, and then tells Clarke, "No, I think I'm OK. How long as it been? Since the crash?"
"Twenty hours and 17 minutes." Lexa answers. "We really need that transceiver…"
Clarke glares at Lexa for rushing the man, but he answers anyways, pointing to a cabinet. "It's in that cabinet over there." When Lexa finds it, she hands it to him, and he starts pressing buttons and twirling the knobs. When he gets nothing, he looks up at them, with a hint of fear in his eyes. "Six hours into the flight, the radio stopped working. We were flying through a storm; lightning must have hit us or something. We had no radar, no contact with anyone. We turned back, hoping to land in Fiji. When the turbulence hit…" He trails off, hands stilling. "We were a thousand miles off course." The pilot looks up, making eye contact with a terrified Clarke and a stoic Lexa. "They're looking for us, but in the wrong place."
Clarke doesn't know what to say. "I… I'm going to check on Jasper." Turning away quickly, she makes her way down to the door of the cockpit.
Behind her, the pilot pleads with Lexa. "It's not my fault, the storm… We have to get this transceiver working. Otherwise, I don't know-"
"Stop." Lexa growls at the pilot as she takes the transceiver from his hands and starts twirling the knobs. Lexa glances down, and seeing that Clarke is busy talking to Jasper, she quietly tells him, "There is no need to frighten them further." Lexa has found herself in many life or death situations before, but she knows that Clarke has not. Fully articulating the idea that it may be some time before they get off this island would do nothing but lower everyone's morale, which is something that they can't afford.
While Lexa was fiddling with the transceiver, Clarke was looking for Jasper. When she didn't see him, she softly called out to him. Suddenly, the bathroom door slams open next to her, and Clarke jolts back in surprise, almost losing her grip.
Frowning at him in confusion, Clarke asks him, "What were you doing in the bathroom?"
"I was… ummm… getting sick. The, uh, bodies, freak me out."
Clarke's face softens, but before she can answer, an inhuman roar sounds nearby. A jolt of fear shoots through Clarke, and she looks up towards Lexa.
Lexa shoves the transceiver in her backpack and slips it on, holding out her hand to pull Clarke back up into the cockpit and into her body. Lexa wraps her arms around Clarke's middle and gives Clarke a squeeze, maneuvering her over her legs and into the corner. She shields her with her own body and pulls a knife from her boot. "Everyone, be quiet." She whispers authoritatively, and everyone obeys, the only sound their harsh breathing.
The cockpit shakes as something lands hard on it, then darkens as a black form leans over the window. The pilot tries to move out of his seat but a large furry arm reaches inside and yanks him out. The pilot yells, then blood splatters across the window.
Immediately, Lexa grabs Clarke's hand and pushes her down. "Go, we need to go." She whispers harshly. Frozen in fear, Clarke and Jasper can only gape at Lexa with wide eyes. The plane shakes again, and the next second they are all free falling as the plane falls, landing in a horizontal position. Lexa grabs Clarke's hand and pulls her up, running down the aisle of the plane. Clarke grabs Jasper's hand as they sprint past him, and together they emerge from the plane and out into the pouring rain. Lexa doesn't even pause before she starts sprinting into the jungle, pulling Clarke behind her and urging her to go faster.
A roar sounds behind them, and Lexa runs faster, pulling Clarke harder even though Clarke is already running as fast as she can. Lexa leads them through the forest in the direction of the beach, dodging trees and rocks, but she knows that they won't be able to outrun this thing if it is chasing them. They need something to throw the beast off their scent. Over her loud breathing, Lexa thinks she hears running water, so she takes a hard left in that direction.
When Lexa sees a fast moving stream, she pulls up at the ditch and lets go of Clarke's hand. Lexa jumps down and holds out her hands to help Clarke jump down too. "Go! Run upstream for 50 feet then out the other side. Don't stop!"
Clarke listens to Lexa, using her fear to fuel her and taking off as fast as she can in the slippery water. When she hears a cry of pain seconds later, however, she turns around to see Lexa on her back in the water with Jasper on top of her. "Lexa!" Clarke yells and runs back, grabbing Jasper's arm and pulling him up. "Run!" She yells at him, and his fear filled eyes indicate that he has no problem taking off and leaving the two of them.
Clarke reaches out to pull Lexa up and she cries out in pain, but Clarke doesn't hesitate and takes off running upstream, her hand still locked with Lexa's. Jasper scrambles up the side of the ditch, and Clarke lets go of Lexa's hand to follow him up the muddy incline. A roar sounds nearby, and she turns around to see Lexa still in the ditch drawing her knife with her right hand as her left hangs uselessly by her side.
Clarke lies on the ground and holds out her hand to Lexa. "Lexa! Let me help you up!" Clarke whisper yells to the brunette.
"Leave me, Clarke. Save yourself!" Lexa hisses back at her.
"I'm not leaving you!"
Lexa turns around to yell at Clarke, but upon seeing the stubborn look in her eyes, she puts the knife between her teeth and grabs Clarke's hands, using her strong legs and Clarke's assistance to pull herself up. They scramble to their feet and take off running. They are both covered in mud and rain blurs their vision, but they don't slow down until loud thumps sound behind them. Clarke looks at Lexa with fear and Lexa slides her backpack off, tossing it into the pushes.
Lexa runs harder, pushing through her pain to her and Clarke's limit. When she spots a clearing, she yanks Clarke to the left, pulling her towards a hollow tree on the edge of it. Lexa shoves Clarke inside first then climbs in after her, pushing her in as far as she can go. Lexa's feet are only a few feet inside the log, however, so ignoring the pain in her left shoulder, she wriggles her way up next to Clarke, molding her body to Clarke's back. Lexa takes the knife out of her teeth with her right hand and sticks it in the wood right above their heads, then wraps her right arm around Clarke's waist, pulling her in tighter to her body so they can tuck their legs upwards almost in the fetal position with Lexa's body spooned around Clarke's.
"You should have left me. Now two will die here instead of one." Lexa angrily grunts at Clarke through her harsh breathing.
Clarke is breathing too hard to retort, but she stiffens in indignation. Before she can give Lexa a piece of her mind, Lexa whispers "Shhhhh, look" in her ear. Clarke looks out the tiny hole near their faces and what she sees makes her breathing speed back up again. A large gorilla is now in the clearing, mouth dark with blood as it sniffs around, clearly looking for them. Clarke starts trembling in fear and whimpers. The gorilla turns its head towards them, and Clarke starts crying, but before any noises from her sobs can emerge from her mouth, Lexa's hand is clamped over her mouth.
Lexa moves her mouth closer to Clarke's ear and whispers so quietly that Clarke thinks she is imagining it. "One..." Clarke freezes in confusion. "Two…" Remembering Lexa's story from before, she swallows hard, choking back her next sob, despite the fact that the gorilla is getting closer. "Three…" Clarke blinks the tears from her eyes, watching as the gorilla gets closer and closer. "Four…" Clarke forces her body to relax. "Five…" Lexa slowly removes her hand from Clarke's mouth, and Clarke controls her breathing, slow and steady. Lexa quietly pulls the knife from the wood in preparation to use it, although there is not much she can do with a knife against a gorilla. The gorilla starts sniffing around the base of the log for several minutes, and Clarke doesn't breath in fear that it will hear her.
A distant roar sounds, and the gorilla immediately turns and runs into the forest, back the way it came. Clarke gasps for breath, but doesn't make any movements towards leaving the relative safety of the log. Several long moments later, Lexa unfolds herself from around Clarke, quietly murmuring, "I think it's gone. We should go, before it comes back."
Clarke finds herself shivering, whether from the fact that her entire body is soaked or that the adrenaline is currently leaving her body. She takes a minute longer to lie in the log, still pressed against Lexa's comforting warmth, before she starts wriggling her way down.
She emerges from the log into sunlight, rain gone. She turns back when she hears a groan and peers into the log to find Lexa on her stomach awkwardly shuffling her way down. When Lexa slides out onto her knees, Clarke helps her turn over to so she is sitting and leaning against the log. Clarke starts prodding Lexa's shoulder, and Lexa swats Clarke's hands away, grumbling.
"It's dislocated. I need to pop it back in, Lexa."
Lexa sighs and relaxes her body. Before she can even grit her teeth, she is gasping as Clarke deftly fixes her shoulder.
Clarke smiles cheekily down at Lexa. "Someone told me it hurts less if you don't see it coming."
Lexa mock glares and huffs back up at her. "Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke." Clarke shivers once again at the way Lexa says her name. Quickly, Lexa pops up to her feet and wraps her free arm around Clarke's shoulders, rubbing up and down to create some friction. "We should get moving, it will help warm you up."
"Wait, first I need to make a sling for your arm." Clarke begins unbuttoning her shirt and slips out of it.
Busy folding her shirt, Clarke misses the way Lexa's eyes widen at the sight of her chest in a thin, wet tank top, nipples hard and poking out. Lexa quickly pulls her gaze away when Clarke looks up at her, draping shirt over her neck. Gently, she bends Lexa's arm and folds it to her chest. Using the main part of the shirt to provide vertical support to Lexa's arm and the sleeve to restrain it close to her body, Clarke grins in triumph at her makeshift sling.
"Thank you." Lexa whispers, gazing reverently at Clarke and biting her lip.
"You're welcome." Clarke whispers back, drifting closer to Lexa as she gazes into vibrant green orbs.
The moment is broken, however, by the frantic calls of Jasper. "Clarke! Lexa! Where are you guys?"
Clarke takes a step back and smiles at Lexa. "We should probably go get him, before he attracts those things back here."
Lexa sends Clarke a sly grin. "We could just leave him here."
Clarke huffs and gently pushes Lexa as she walks past her. "Let's go, Heda." Lexa shivers at Clarke's use of her Army nickname. Turning around to walk backwards, Clarke smiles teasingly at her. "You never told me what it means. Is it another language? A nickname? Something embarrassing, perhaps?"
Lexa rolls her eyes and catches up to Clarke, grabbing her elbow right before she can trip over a tree root and turning her back around to walk forwards towards Jasper's desperate cries. "It's a language that my squad and I made up. We call it Trigedasleng, mostly because it's basically English slang, and we made it up when we were on a long mission in the forest with lots of downtime. It prevents the enemy from knowing what we are talking about."
"You still didn't answer my question." Clarke smirks at Lexa.
"I was the leader of the squad. Technically, I was only a captain, but any naming system we came up with for the ranks was still too obvious. So, Lincoln starting calling me Heda, and it stuck. It means Commander, because I'm the leader of the squad, and… Yeah…" Lexa trails off, blushing bright red.
Warmth pools in Clarke's belly as she imagines that leading the squad is probably not all that Lexa has done to earn that nickname. Before her fantasy can progress, Lexa calls out to Jasper, and he bursts from the bushes, breathing hard.
"Thank God I found you guys, where did you go? I was running, and I turned around and you guys were there one second and gone the next!"
"Well now that we found each other again, let's go back. We need to get my backpack, the transceiver is in it." Expecting no arguments, Lexa turns around, and Clarke follows her without question.
"What?" Jasper yells. "You want to go back where that thing is? The one that killed the pilot? We can't go back there!"
Lexa doesn't stop, and Clarke only coldly growls over shoulder, "Then don't come."
Realizing that they are going to leave him with no problem, Jasper hurries after them, following them as they retrace their steps. Despite her injured arm, Lexa's long strides bring her to the front of the group, leaving Clarke in the middle and Jasper in the back.
Not wanting to be alone, Jasper speeds up to walk alongside Clarke. "When we were back at the river, you yelled 'Lexa.' I was there too, you know. Jasper, remember?"
Clarke doesn't answer but instead freezes when she sees Lexa stopped in front of her. Clarke watches as she bends down, picking something up from the mud. She turns around, showing it to Clarke. Clarke walks up and takes the silver pin from her hand.
"It's the pilot's wings. Where's the pilot?"
Lexa shrugs her good shoulder and turns around to bend down and examine the muddy area where she had found the wings. Over Lexa's shoulder, Clarke catches sight of something reflecting in the pool of water. Turning her gaze up, she gasps in shock at what she sees.
Hearing Clarke's startled exclamation, Lexa is on her feet instantly, knife drawn, looking for danger. When she sees the direction of Clarke's gaze, she looks up, mouth hanging open in surprise.
Jasper looks up to where Clarke and Lexa have directed their gaze and sees the gruesome sight of the pilot, draped across the tree limbs, soaked in blood with one arm missing and limbs bent in the wrong direction. "Guys, how does something like that happen?"
Clarke redirects her gaze to Lexa, blue meeting green. "Where the fuck are we?"
AN: I'm in the middle of another fic, but I really wanted to write this. If people like it, I will definitely continue it and work on both! Leave a review so I know if you liked it!