Title: "Follow the Leader"
Author: Lila
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Clarke, Clarke/Bellamy, Clarke&Raven
Spoiler: "Spacewalker"
Length: Part I of III
Summary: Finn lives; Bellamy still gets the girl. Clarke comes to terms with herself too.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs.
Author's Note: This idea has been eating away at me all week and I finally was just like, "Fine! I'll write it." It follows the events of 2x08, except Finn survives his trial and Clarke has to face all the very many ways he's changed. I've never written an intentionally canon-based AU so please by gentle. Title courtesy of Matthew Ryan. Enjoy.
"You can follow your gut or you can follow the past."
In her dreams, she's floating: cool air on her skin and wind in her hair and a vast, gaping blackness for as far as her eye can see. Space is empty, endless, closing in with a deep, sucking silence.
They say that in space, no one can hear you scream.
Clarke tests that theory, reaches for purchase amongst the stars, throws her head back and opens her mouth –
She wakes gasping for breath, fingers clutching at the sweat soaked sheets. Her head aches, pounds in time to the noises of the camp, and she carefully pushes her hair back from her face.
She's alive and her people are coming home and still…sometimes she wishes she'd left her skybox in an entirely different way.
It's a long walk to Lexa's camp.
Clarke can feel the weight of so many eyes, Grounder and Sky People alike, pressing in on her as she closes the gap. Raven's knife is there too, smooth and cold against her wrist. She keeps her arm steady to avoid the sharp bite of the blade.
She wants to turn back. She wants to hide behind the wire, Bellamy at her side, while her mother and Kane deal with the Commander. It's too much, Finn's life in her hands and the fate of the mountain tied up in this alliance. She never asked for it, but there's nowhere left to run.
It hurts, sharp flint cutting into the thin skin of her belly, but she ignores the blood pooling around Indra's spear. It will likely scar, but it won't kill her. Nothing's killed her yet.
So she straightens her shoulders and thins her mouth into a flat line and doesn't back down. "I'm here to talk to your commander." She bites down on the inside of her cheek as the spear sinks deeper. "Let me through."
"Let her pass," Lexa calls from across the camp and Indra glares at Clarke but obeys the command. Lexa's face is impassive as Clarke approaches. "You bleed for nothing. You cannot stop this."
Clarke keeps her expression neutral, but lets a note of pleading creep into her voice. This is her only chance; she needs to let Lexa see how much it matters. "No, only you can," Clarke says, her voice nearly drowned out by the Grounders' cries. They're leading Finn towards the center of the camp, hands bound as he approaches a tall, wooden post, and Clarke's heart clenches when she sees how they're running out of time. "Show my people how powerful you are," she urges. "Show them you can be merciful." Out of the corner of her eye, she watches two warriors tie Finn to the post. Lincoln's words replay in her ears, "It starts with fire…" "There's another way."
Lexa's eyes are sad. "We are what we are."
Clarke shakes her head. "My people might have started this war, but you can end it. There doesn't need to be more blood." She inhales sharply, exhales the memory of the three hundred of Lexa's men that she burned alive. "I'm soaked in Grounder blood, but no more." She turns her eyes to Finn, now tied to the post. Even from this distance, she can see the terror in his eyes. "He killed eighteen people – eighteen innocent people – but the cycle needs to end."
Lexa seems intrigued, but she has her own weight to bear. There are a thousand eyes watching her too. "What are you proposing?"
"We put him on trial. We declare him guilty and determine an appropriate punishment." She pauses, reaches out to grasp Lexa's wrist, feels the edge of Raven's knife cut into her skin even as she ignores the shrieks rising around her. Lexa holds up a hand to silence her warriors, looks Clarke squarely in the eye. Hers are weary but relieved, and it gives Clarke hope because it's a bit like looking into herself. She tightens her fingers. "Whatever we decide, Finn doesn't die. No one dies anymore." She sucks in another breath while Lexa deliberates.
"My people will help decide his fate," Lexa declares and Clarke lets out that breath . She hadn't expected such quick acceptance.
"Yes. Representatives from both our peoples will be at the trial."
Lexa nods and flexes her wrist so Clarke lets go, changes the angle so their fingers twine together in an awkward handshake. "We will try your way," Lexa agrees. Her voice is dispassionate, but Clarke still hears the threat in her words. If her people fail, if they can't come to an agreement, the Grounders will slaughter them all.
"We won't disappoint you," Clarke assures her and Lexa doesn't look convinced but doesn't push back either. Instead, she makes a motion with her hand and waits patiently while three men twice her size hurry over.
Within minutes Finn is kneeling before Clarke, shaking and still terrified, but alive. From across the camp, Clarke can feel the heat of Indra's wrath, the confusion in the Grounders' eyes, but she ignores their stares and drags Finn to his feet. She needs to get him behind their walls before Lexa changes her mind, or Indra steps out of turn, or one of those warriors decides their army needs a different commander.
"We begin at first light," Lexa says and Clarke nods her agreement before starting the long walk back to her people. She can still feel all those eyes on her, waits for a spear to lodge in her back with every step they take.
"Thank you," Finn says the moment they're on the run.
Clarke's quiet a moment, relief washing over her as the camp comes into focus; from this distance, she can even see the pride in Bellamy's eyes. "I didn't do it for you," she finally says, wraps an arm around Finn's shoulders to hurry him along.
"I owe you my life," he says, breathing heavy as they practically sprint the final stretch.
Clarke doesn't respond, concentrates instead on the burn in her chest as they push for the gate. Raven throws herself at Finn the moment he steps into camp and they fall to the ground in a twist of arms and legs. Clarke stops beside them, crouches in the dirt to find her breath.
She saved Finn's life, but if she's learned anything from this place, it's that there are no guarantees. She digs her hands into the soft earth, rubs it between her fingers as cheers rise around her, as the weight of all those Grounder eyes threaten to crush her.
She prays that she made the right choice.
As promised, the Grounder contingent arrives at dawn.
Lexa leads them with Indra at her shoulder and three others trailing behind. Clarke recognizes the healer Nyko, but the others are unfamiliar. They remove their masks at the gate to reveal an older man and a young girl about the same age as Tris.
Lexa's second, Clarke realizes, remembers Anya's words. Grounders learn by doing. Of course the next in line would be present for this experiment. She's glad this time there's no child at the losing end of a war.
Abby steps forward to greet them. Introductions are quickly made and terms are set – they'll use the Council Room for the trial; three representatives from each side will deliver the sentence.
It's when they name the jurors that Clarke sees red. "You can't be serious," she snaps when her mother tells her that she won't participate. "I'm the one who made this happen!"
"You're too close to the situation, honey," Abby says and inclines her head. On the other side of the yard, Indra is having a similar conversation with Lexa. "We decided this together."
Clarke is glad that they're all getting along, but it doesn't make her any less concerned for Finn. She got Lexa to promise not to kill him but that doesn't mean he'll walk out with all his limbs. "Mom, please," she tries, but Abby just leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead.
"It's going to be fine," Abby promises and steps back, walks to where Lexa and her team are waiting by the Ark.
It's not going to fine, not in the least, and Clarke thinks of that old adage, being careful about what she wishes for, because she wanted it to stop and now everything is spinning out of control.
She takes a calming breath because there's no point in crying, even less point in punching something and messing up her hand. She blinks back tears and stares at the entrance to the makeshift courtroom, eyes rounding when the final member joins the group.
His hair is slicked back from his face and he's wearing a new shirt, something that even buttons up the front, but it's still Bellamy. He nods as he glances in her direction and Clarke reads his silent words: I got this.
Just like that she knows it'll be okay.
Raven and Indra glare daggers at each other while the jury deliberates.
Finn sits in silence, bound at his hands and feet by the Grounder guards that appeared on their heels the night before. Clarke can't see their faces behind their masks, but she imagines they're exhausted. They sat, alert and awake, outside Finn's cell for the entire night.
Raven isn't happy with Clarke either. Finn's alive, but his fate is up in the air. Even though he'll live, they don't know if they'll ever see him again.
"You should have listened to me," she whispers, soft enough that Indra can't hear them across the yard.
Clarke represses the urge to roll her eyes. "You know I did the right thing. If we want to get our people out of Mount Weather, we can't afford another war." Raven is silent as she digs a stick through the dirt. Clarke reaches over and lays her hand atop her friend's. "He's alive, Raven. Let's be grateful for that."
Raven flinches slightly and when Clarke looks at her, there are tears in her eyes. "He's here because of me."
"What?"
A tear rolls down Raven's cheek. "I got the only perfect score in Zero G-Mech history, but I failed the physical." She presses a hand against her chest. "I have a heart murmur. It's like a trillion to one that I'll ever feel it, but they didn't want to waste the training on me." She pauses and more tears roll down her cheeks. "Finn found a way for me to fly anyway. We got caught and he took the fall."
"I don't understand," Clarke says. "You were a Zero-G Mech."
Raven nods through her tears. "They eventually changed their minds. I got what I wanted and Finn ended up here."
"It's not your fault."
"Don't you see?" Raven's voice is high-pitched with pain. "I sent him here. If he hadn't gone to the Skybox for me, he would have – "
"Come down with the Ark?" Clarke asks. "Half the stations died in the crash, and even more people died before they left. He's here and he's alive. That's the part that matters."
"He killed eighteen people."
It's Clarke's turn for tears to form in her eyes. She didn't pick up the gun, didn't pull the trigger, but he still did it for her. She knows, in the depths of her mind she knows it's not her fault, but it doesn't make the guilt any easier to bear. "He killed them for me," she finally says and it's Raven's turn to offer comfort.
Thin arms wrap around Clarke's back and she buries her face in Raven's hair, holds onto her friend like the world is ending. And maybe it is. Even if Finn lives, even if the truce holds, there's no reason the Mountain Men won't smite them from the earth.
"Finn should go on trial more often."
Clarke and Raven break apart to blink up at Bellamy. He's smirking, but his eyes are serious, and Clarke understands immediately, the way he's padding bad news with a joke.
"What's the verdict?" Clarke asks, grasps Raven's hand and pulls them to their feet in unison. Raven leans into her a little to hear the news.
The smile falls from Bellamy's face and Raven's fingers cinch almost painfully around Clarke's. "Eighteen months hard labor," he says softly. "One month for each death. When his sentence is over, we'll reevaluate."
"What happens while he's there?" Raven asks.
Bellamy looks pained. "Whatever the hell they want."
Raven doesn't understand, but Clarke does: how hard Bellamy must have fought, how much it hurts to lose. She reaches out, lays a hand on his forearm. "You did your best."
He shrugs, but a muscle jumps in his cheek that betrays his indifference. "He isn't dead," Bellamy says and Raven nods along. She isn't crying and it worries Clarke. An emotional Raven is a predictable Raven; she doesn't think she'll like the outcome of whatever gears are turning in her friend's head.
"This is good," Clarke says, pushes aside her own concerns. She achieved her goal; she can't worry about the fallout. Her priority has to be keeping Raven in check.
"Eighteen months," Raven finally says. Her jaw tightens and her eyes flare. "If anything happens to him…the Grounders won't be the only ones reevaluating."
She stalks off towards engineering and Clarke turns back to Bellamy, keeps blinking at him in the sunlight. "I never doubted you," she says. She owes him a thank you too, but he needs to know this more – she believes in him. It's hard to remember when she didn't believe in him.
He smiles, a real smile, and blinks back at her. "You're welcome."
They stand there for a moment, two people enjoying a sunny day on earth, before Clarke remembers who they are. What they are.
She lets go of Bellamy's arm. There's always more work to do.
Lexa is kind in addition to merciful, and despite Indra's protests, allows a goodbye.
Finn's locked in a toolshed, hands bound and head bowed. He looks up when Clarke opens the door, and his eyes are the same warm brown that stole her heart. He broke it too, but that doesn't keep it from clenching in her chest.
She slips into an empty chair and he watches her from across the table. His hands are bound, and she keeps her eyes fixed on the fraying ropes wound around his wrists. He likely won't ever touch her again. She's surprisingly okay with it.
Things have been strained between them since the dropship, since Lincoln's village, since she brought guns to the bridge and trusted Bellamy more than him. "How are you?" she finally asks, just to break the silence.
He smiles, the same loose, easy grin she remembers, and it makes her heart clench even harder. "They didn't kill me."
Clarke shakes her head. "They won't either. You do your time and then – "
"Do you forgive me?"
"What?" The question takes her by surprise and when she looks at Finn, she doesn't recognize the boy staring back at her. His jaw is tense, his eyes hard, and his tone is crueler than she remembers.
"Do you forgive me?"
"I…" she starts, trails off to gather her thoughts. She knows what's he's asking, that conversation replaying with crystal clarity in her mind: "I'm in love with you. Everything that's happened, everything I've done…all that matters is that you're okay." So many dead and he wants atonement. She's glad he's alive, but that's all she can give.
"I loved you," she starts again. "You made this place into something good. You made me think I had a future here." His eyes soften, all the hardness melting into the boy she remembers, but it doesn't lessen her resolve. "I still have a future here, but it's not with you."
"Because of Bellamy?"
His eyes are a sad rather than soft, and it makes her heart clench in a very different way. "Because you killed eighteen people."
"I was looking – "
Clarke jumps to her feet, i the anger making her cheeks flush. "You're one of my people and I will always fight for you, but I can't do this anymore. Good luck, Finn." She starts for the door.
"Clarke, wait," he calls out and she pauses, fingers clutching the doorknob. "Will you look at me, please?"
She sighs as she turns, inwardly cursing the hold he still has over her. He's her first love; he'll always be a part of her. "Finn…"
"I'm doing a sorry job of showing it, but I know what you risked to help me. Thanks, Princess." He takes a step forward, then another, and keeps walking until she's backed up against the door and he's leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "Thank you for everything."
Finn steps back and smiles, that dopey grin back on his face, like the Finn from their first night on earth, and it's the last thing she sees before she walks through the door.
She doesn't know the next time she'll lay eyes on him. It's easier to remember him this way.
Clarke rubs her eyes and tries not to wince as Abby drones on about safety precautions.
It's been a week since Finn's trial and the planning for the attack on Mount Weather has started in earnest. There are daily meetings with the Lexa and her generals, but they're hammering out their own team's configuration today.
They don't want the kids to go. That's really what the argument's about. No one seems to care how well Murphy knows the terrain, or that Octavia has relationships with multiple Grounders. They want the "kids" behind the walls while the "adults" do the heavy lifting. After the massacre, and the dropship, and Clarke's confrontation with Lexa, Raven's Gate has been closed and guards have trailed behind them all hours of the day. There's no getting around Abby's increasingly tight control.
"I'm the only one who's actually been to Mount Weather," Clarke argues. She's already spent most of the meeting glaring mutinously at her mother. "I know the compound and how it works. I need to be on the team."
"We have your map," Kane says in return. "Let the Guard handle it."
Abby jumps on board. "I need you here."
It's a load of bull and Clarke doesn't bother trying to hide her glare. Jackson is more than capable of handling any medical issues. "You're the chancellor," she points out. "You're needed here more than anyone."
"You're my daughter, " Abby says. "I can't lose you again."
"You don't have a daughter," Bellamy says softly. He's been silent the entire meeting, although Clarke's watched his eyes follow the conversation. That muscle ticks in his cheek as all eyes turn to him.
"Excuse me?"
Bellamy's voice is deep and commanding when he explains. "You don't have one daughter. You have three hundred twenty-three, forty-seven more in Mount Weather." He shifts his eyes to the pin on Abby's lapel. "If you can't put them first, you shouldn't be chancellor."
Abby opens her mouth to speak, but Clarke's quicker. With Bellamy, it's easy to be one step ahead. "It's not about me or about you. Our people are dying in that mountain. We do what's necessary to bring them home."
"Fine," Abby says after a long, awkward moment. "What do you propose?"
Her eyes are on Bellamy, but he's looking at Clarke, a calm, steady expression on his face. It's increasingly familiar, that way he looks at her, not like she's hung the moon but that she controls its wax and wane.
He's waiting for her to make the call; he's telling her that he'll support her no matter what she decides.
That night, Bellamy finds her by the gate.
Clarke's sitting in the grass and sipping a cup of tea. It's hot, but the night air is cool and it helps keep her warm. It's a little too chilly to be out and most of the camp has long turned in for the night, but Clarke likes the solitude. No one wants anything from her; no one forces choices too impossible to make.
She hears him long before she sees him, a steady thump of boots against the earth, a scratchy slide of fabric against the grass as he drops down next to her.
"Seventeen months," Bellamy says and Clarke glances up sharply, realizes she's been staring absently into the depths of Lexa's camp. She doesn't look at Bellamy either, because she knows what he's thinking, knows he thinks it's Finn occupying her thoughts; she knows he thinks it's fear that makes her heart clench.
"Eighteen dead," she says in response and it's Bellamy's turn to glance up sharply.
"You must – " he starts but she interrupts before he can finish. She spent enough time missing Finn when he was right next to her. She's long since moved on.
"He asked me to forgive him, but I don't think I can. Does that make me a bad person?"
Bellamy chuckles softly and some of the tension leaves his body. He leans back on his elbows and stretches his legs. "You're the best person I know."
He's many things, but a liar isn't one of them, so Clarke swallows hard and takes sip of her still hot tea. It burns her throat and she coughs, tries to find feeling in her tongue.
His hand claps down on her back, pats roughly while she continues to cough, and that chuckle deepens into a full laugh. "You okay?"
Clarke manages to nod, smile through the pain. "If I'm not, I have you." It's not a question but a statement, a truth she knows as deeply as the probability of the sun rising and setting, but it makes Bellamy's hand still on her back.
It stays there a moment, warm and heavy through the fabric of her jacket, and Clarke forgets to breathe from the weight of it pressing into her.
The moment ends and Bellamy pushes to his feet, mumbles something about a guard shift and disappears into the gloom. Clarke remains in the grass, hands clutching her cooling tea to keep her steady.
Some weight is worth carrying.
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