Disclaimer: I do not own anything in regards to The 100.

The Teleport

Lexa was tired.

Lexa was tired of being scared and alone all of the time. It was all she knew though. Lexa and Anya's mother died when they were both very young, and neither of them knew anything other than what their father told them. Gustus drank - he drank a lot and he yelled and he threw things.

Then one day he slapped Anya with the back of his hand, right across her face. The next day he apologized and Anya never brought it up to anyone. It happened again and again; increasing in frequency and fury, the only time Anya ever tried to hit the massive man back, was when Gustus went to hit Lexa. Anya stood between them, giving the swaying, slurring oaf a stern "No!" With a look in her eyes that would make statues tremble.

Anya became Lexa's hero that day.

Then Anya left. Anya had been given the chance to leave and go off to University someplace far, far away. Lexa will forever remember watching her older sisters' car reversing out of their driveway as her hero left. Lexa had been abandoned, left alone with her father, broken and scared.

Lexa was just seventeen and so very, very tired. Teachers never asked and Lexa never spoke. The high school let her pass by unnoticed. Lexa never really had friends, just a few people whose names she knew.

Lexa felt alone.

Lexa felt afraid to go home, but where else could she go?

No one could help her and even if they could, no one cared enough to help. Lexa loved school because it was not home. Lexa loved sitting in the Library and reading about other worlds and other people; pretending she was one of them - someone special and important and heroic and most of all, someone loved.

It took time but Lexa adapted. Lexa became numb inside. Stoic and strong; it was an iron wall she built to protect herself from the cruel reality that she resided within.

Lexa tried so hard to stop feeling but sometimes she still got scared and she still felt alone.

Then one day - one particularly brutal day - something special happened.

Lexa returned home late one night, after wasting time at the local shopping center, to find that Gustus was well into his usual bottle of cheap whiskey. Yet despite his intoxicated state, he still heard Lexa creeped inside as she always did when the dark arrived and the shops closed. Lexa tried to be quiet but the same set of floorboards creaked under her feet as they always did and Gustus had heard. He set his glass down with a sharp thud and shakily stood from his old, torn armchair. "Girl, get in here!" He barked.

Lexa reacted. Lexa ran because she knew what came next - what always came next. They would argue about something small and irrelevant and it would not matter if Lexa was the voice of reason because to Gustus, she was just a punching bag - flesh and bone to vent his anger and resentment upon.

Lexa ran up the stairs faster than she ever had done before and Gustus followed. The man's boots hitting the steps as he stomped upstairs echoed outwards like war drums. The world outside this empty, dank house did not exist. All that existed was the fear. Lexa ran into her bedroom and slammed the door shut, even though there was no lock to prevent her father from barging in inevitably.

The drums became louder and louder and Lexa's heart matched the thuds. Lexa wanted to run - she wanted to escape and be anywhere but home! She ran her hands down her face and braced herself for the beating.

The ambient noise faded away, her vision darkened and the only thing Lexa could hear was her own breathing and heartbeat and then...

A cold breeze.

A sprinkle of cool water upon her head.

Lexa was standing in a park. A park she recognized easily, for it was the park she used to play in when Anya and she were little. A strong memory of her mother pushing her and her sister on the swing set entered her mind. Tears formed but she refused to let them fall from her eyes. It was not even a question, how it had happened - how she need up in the park so suddenly - it just was.

It happened every other time. Lexa was strong and normally she could handle the odd backhand or the curse words, but sometimes Gustus was a little too drunk to hold his punches; a little too angry to stop himself from pushing her a little too hard. In these particular moments, Lexa could not help the fear that creeped inside - not knowing if he would stop or if he might actually kill her one day. When Lexa felt fear like this she would appear somewhere, and it did not matter how it happened, just that it had happened. Lexa would find herself in place she considered safe - places drenched in memories of her mother and sister.

As her final year of high school went on, Lexa felt more and more alone; unsure what exactly she would do once the year ended. All she knew is that she wanted to leave and she wanted the fear to go away. The only problem was that she had no one to help her do that - to show her how to escape.

Lexa returned home one evening and the first thing she noticed was that her father was absent. Gustus was not sitting his chair; Lexa assumed he was out at the local pub and would stumble home angry and broke later in the night.

It was moments like this, when her home was truly empty, that Lexa would feel the loneliness. The images of herself, her mother and her sister ran through her mind. Gustus seemed happy in those memories. Gustus seemed like the father she wished she had, instead of the alcoholic she cohabited with.

"Where are you...?" Lexa mumbled, dropping her backpack unceremoniously upon the floor. Lexa was alone and for the first time, this fact made her angry - it made her furious!

Why did mom have to leave? Why did Anya have to abandon me? Lexa wondered so many things and her anger intensified. Pulling up her hood over her head, Lexa walked into the lounge-room and approached her father's armchair. In one swift swoop, Lexa flipped the chair, making it crash onto the ground before she turned and flipped the coffee table over with even more fury. She found her father's empty whiskey bottles and smashed them one by one against the walls.

"Where are you!?" Lexa screamed as she tore apart the room.

Then the ambient noise faded and Lexa paused her rampage; finding it difficult to draw in a steady breath. Tears leaked out and heart pounded within her chest. The smell of old cigarettes and alcohol faded and the dusty smell of rain became predominant.

The air was cool as she took in greedy breaths. Lexa was outside but she did not know where exactly - she had not been there previously. She looked down and saw that the ground she stood on was solid gravel. A bright light forced her head back up and the sound of screeching tires cause her to flinch backwards.

A car came to an abrupt halt directly in front of Lexa. Before Lexa could react, a blonde girl jumped out of the vehicle all slamming the driver's side door shut as she quickly stormed over to Lexa.

"What the hell did you think you were doing!? Standing in the middle of the fucking road like that! Are you suicidal or something!?"

The Blonde yelled at Lexa with so much anguish in her voice, Lexa could not believe it was all because of her. Looking closer at the girl, Lexa could see that her eyes where red and that tear stains covered both of her cheeks.

"Clarke?" Lexa asked.

The blonde looked taken aback before she shuffled slightly closer to better see the stranger beneath the hood.

"Lexa?"

Both girls went to the same school and had shared maybe one or two classes but they had never really spoken to one another.

There was a moment where neither of them really knew what to do. Both could see that the other one was in a state of distress; after several awkward beats, Clarke asked the only question she could fathom.

"Do you want to come for a drive?"

It was a soft, croakily voiced question but Lexa had heard the blonde and she also heard the hesitance.

Lexa shook her head and began to walk away.

"Wait."

Again the voice was quiet and muffled under emotion but Lexa still heard the plea and against her better judgment, she stopped her steps and turned back around.

"I don't want to be alone tonight." Clarke paused to collect herself before adding, "You look like you could use someone to talk to as well."

The drive was quiet and Lexa began to regret getting in the car. They were not friends; they had never spoken a word to each other before tonight. Clarke was tense; her hands gripped the steering-wheel so tightly that her fingers and knuckle were white. An average person might be concerned for their own safety if someone so distraught was driving but not Lexa. Lexa simply watch the blonde closely and regarded her current state carefully. After, maybe twenty minutes, Clarke pulled into a large and empty car park. Lexa had no idea where they were but she also did not care enough to ask.

Clarke released the steering-wheel and stretched out her abused fingers. Lexa did not think Clarke would talk at all, until she did.

"A year. My father has been dead for a whole year." Clarke smirked darkly. "They said time would make it easier - that things would get better." Finally Clarke turned to face Lexa who was listening very carefully. "They lied!"

One of Lexa's strongest memories of her mother's funeral was how everyone said "I'm so sorry for your loss." They were apologizing even though they personally had nothing to do with anything and they spoke as if her mother was just lost instead of cold and dead. So Lexa was not going to say any of those rehearsed words that people said to her and Anya. Instead, Lexa said nothing; she just watched Clarke take in quick shallow breaths.

"So... That's me." Clarke stated after a long silence. "Why were you standing in the middle of the street?"

Lexa looked away. She did not want to lie, but how could she explain the truth when she did not fully understand what had happened herself? The phenomenon seldom occurred during the day and usually only whenever Lexa was afraid but this time... this time was different. Lexa was not scared, she was not running away - this time she was searching for something and she found Clarke. "I got home and my father was out..." Lexa remembered the unwanted feeling of despair that brought on the instant jump from one place to another. "I suppose I just ended up there..." Lexa shrugged, unsure how to explain such a strange event.

When Lexa turned away, the hood she wore hid her face even more; Clarke reached out with gentle fingers and pushed the hood back. Lexa might have flinched if she had not been taught otherwise by Gustus. Still, the contact was both electric and terrifying. Clarke did not mean for it to be so intimate, she could just see that Lexa was hiding; not just underneath the hood but emotionally. Lexa was damaged inside and Clarke had this unexplainable urge to uncover the brunette's pain and ease it.

"You sit in the library and read philosophy books. You're smarter than anyone in our year. You correct teachers and students even if they hate you for it..." Clarke casually listed.

"You seemed to know plenty about me." Lexa said sharply.

"...and you never talk to anyone." Clarke finished.

A loud buzzing from the center console broke the intense silence that followed Clarke's very true statement. Lexa saw the name "Octavia" flash across the cracked screen. Clarke groaned at the unwanted intrusion and reluctantly picked up her phone before shaking her head and tossing it carelessly onto the backseat.

Clarke let her focus fall back onto her brunette guest, who appeared to be avoiding eye contact. "You can talk to me," said Clarke. "You don't have to but... If you're sick of sitting the library reading or..." Clarke grabbed a pen out of the glovebox in front of Lexa, took the brunettes hand and started writing her phone number on her palm. "...If you just need someone. Call me. Anytime."

Clarke dropped Lexa home after about an hour of oddly comfortable silence. Clarke's phone had continued to receive calls and texts and eventually the blonde decided it was best to go home before someone called the police. Gustus was passed out when Lexa got inside, so she quickly went upstairs to go to bed. Days passed and Lexa saw Clarke a few times at school: once in passing down a corridor - Clarke had given her a small smile; once in the library, Clarke had waved as she walked by; and one time after school but they were both walking in different directions and Clarke did not actually see Lexa but Lexa saw Clarke.

Lexa though about the nice, blue eyed, blonde haired, broken, crying, beautiful, genuine and caring girl every day until it happened again. It was not Gustus or fear that triggered it this time to Lexa's surprise. She was just lying upon her bed reading something she had little interest in reading. Lexa's mind kept drifting back to Clarke and her caring face and kind yet intensely strong eyes.

Lexa had to drop the book. Everything faded away and her heartbeat picked up speed. Closing her eyes, Lexa took in several deep breaths and focused on Clarke to help herself stay grounded. It never scared her before - where she might end up - because all she really wanted was to get away. This time there was no great threat, so Lexa was afraid when she felt herself being pulled somewhere.

Then there was the warmth pouring down upon her face and warm grass beneath her fingers. Lexa opened her eyes and had to squint as the sun beamed down. She sat up slowly and realized that she was on someone's front lawn. The house in front of her was a really nice house; it was two story and very modern without a single chipped brick. Slowly rising to her feet, Lexa glanced around in a halfhearted attempt to figure out where she had appeared.

"Lexa?"

Lexa's head snapped to where the voice came from and a huge grin spread across her face as the one and only constant on Lexa's mind of late exited the nice house.

Clarke smiled as she saw Lexa - a real, big, beautiful smile. Lexa had found her way to Clarke.

"Clarke."