Chapter 2: May We Meet Again
She swished her feet slowly in the water, watching the small eddies she created swirl around her ankles weakly pulling at her skin. She wished she could slip down into the little whirlpools and be sucked down into oblivion, float among the smooth stones and soft silt.
She closed her eyes listening to the gentle babbling water as it slid and swirled around mossy rocks, carving its way through the land with nothing to stop it, sliding around all obstacles. She let her mind drift too tired to fight her thoughts that betrayed her time and again as she pictured the Commander's face.
One tear slowly slipped between her lashes and wound down her cheek, barely clearing a path through the dried dirt staining her cheek. She remembered green eyes, shadowed with resigned resolution as the Commander informed her of the deal she had made with the Mountain Men. She could plainly hear the Commander's voice echoing in her mind, she pretended that the voice was tinged with sadness, and not the righteous belief that what the Commander was doing for her people was not only necessary but justified.
Another tear and then two dribbled their way down her cheeks as she remembered the soft voice shake slightly and whisper, "Not everyone. Not you." She let out a sob as she replayed the voice over and over again in her mind like a never-ending static film. Lexa's voice. Not the Commander's. Lexa's voice.
"May we meet again," she murmured out loud as she opened her eyes.
She pulled her feet out of the water and bent down and scooped water up in her hands scrubbing furiously at them, and then she clambered off the rock to lay on her belly, ignoring the stones digging in to her ribs. She pushed her face into the brook, letting the cool water caress her face wiping away the tears and dirt.
She held her breath as long as she could relishing the burn in her lungs as her flesh tightened and puckered screaming for oxygen. She jerked back suddenly, arching her back, her wet hair flinging in the air. She jerked to her feet. She was done feeling sorry for herself. She was alone and needed no one else. She would go to the Wastelands. She would leave behind the mountain and rivers, the trees, and the Commander who ruled the woods. But before she finally left, she had one more thing to do.
She ruthlessly shoved her feet back into her boots, ignoring the stabs of pain on the ruptured skin. She stomped her feet, glorying in the pain, and this small bite of penance, of absolution.
She started picking her way through the woods, back the way she had come. She walked for hours before angling off towards the setting sun, reasonably sure that she was going the right way. The Commander had been an efficient tutor when she had dragged Clarke through the words and then abandoned her to find her way back by orienting herself to the sun and stars.
She had eventually succeeded in finding her way back to Ton DC and then Camp Jaha, tired and hungry, dirty and weak. Had it really only been days ago? But she had succeeded, had learned one more lesson about surviving on an unforgiving earth. The Commander had nodded her head at Clarke when she stumbled into Ton DC, acknowledging her victory, but it had been Lexa whose eyes had glinted with concern when she noticed the cuts on Clarke's hands and knees from falling and crawling. Concern she had quickly masked, but concern that Clarke saw nevertheless.
Clarke shook her head angrily, attempting to dislodge thoughts of the Commander, of Lexa from her mind.
"No more. Just stop, Clarke, just fucking stop!" She muttered to herself as she trudged on towards the setting sun.
She made camp again, eating a couple handfuls of berries that she had found earlier in the day. Again, she made a small fire, and again she saw the faces of the dying writhing in the flames. Again, she closed her eyes, forcing herself to see the dead who danced across her eyelids, flickering in and out, ghostly patterns with names she didn't even know. The hollow in her chest grew, carving out space between her ribs.
Morning came, and Clarke groggily stamped out her fire, exhausted but determined. She made her way slowly through the woods, stopping to lean against trees every so often as she felt her lungs heave and catch as she tried to pull in oxygen from the heavy air. She stumbled on, forcing her body forward despite knowing that soon she would fall, and possibly not get back up. Days with little sleep and little food and water were exacting their pound of flesh, but she wasn't even sure she cared any more.
Eventually she made her way to the edge of the woods, she stood silently slumped against a tree. She peered across the field to the blinking lights, a battered beacon valiantly fighting the encroaching darkness. She wondered how long the power would last, how long they would last. She felt the tears burn her eyes, she hadn't sacrificed everything for them to fade out one by one, like a thousand burned out stars.
She slumped to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself and rested her forehead against her knees. She would wait until it was deep dark, when they would be too tired and worn down. She knew how to slip in and out. She had done it enough times over the last couple of weeks, as she fought against the constraints her mother had tried to place upon her.
FLASHBACK
"It's too dangerous, Clarke! You can't keep going out in the woods. There are just too many dangers! It isn't just these wild animals, although God knows that mutant gorilla is dangerous enough, but we can't even be sure that we can trust the grounders!" Abby pleaded with her stubborn daughter.
The blonde sighed as she continued to stuff spare supplies into her bag, "Mom, the Commander has given us her word that the alliance will hold." The blonde stopped trying to stuff her bag and looked up at her mom, noting the worry and exhaustion lining her face.
Her voice softened, "Mom, this alliance will hold. It has to hold, or I sacrificed Finn for nothing." Her voice trembled as she swallowed thickly, fighting back the tears as she pretended that that she couldn't still feel his blood staining her hands. "I won't let him die in vain."
Abby sighed as she walked over to the narrow cot in the room. She plopped down, tired and worn out with carrying the burden of leadership in an uncertain world. This new earth was like nothing she had imagined. She closed her eyes briefly, wishing Jake was with her, but he wasn't and that was her doing.
She opened her eyes when she felt the cot dip next to her, as her daughter sat next to her, their shoulders brushing lightly. "You need to trust me, Mom, trust that I know what I'm doing. I've been down here longer than you, and we can trust the Commander. We can trust Lexa."
END FLASHBACK
How wrong she had been. How deadly wrong she had been. Maybe she should have listened to her mom, maybe they wouldn't be in this mess. But what choice had she really had? She couldn't leave her people, her friends behind in that mountain to die, and the only answer had been an alliance with the Trikru, with the Commander. With Lexa. And Commander Lexa had turned out to be a treacherous foe.
FLASHBACK
"Maybe we can trust her, and maybe we can't. But it is still too dangerous out there, especially at night. You need to stay here, Clarke."
"Mom, I'm going. We need to prepare for this battle, but we also need to prepare for life after this war. We will take the mountain, and then what? We need to understand how the world works, we need to know how to plant crops and hunt animals. We need to know how to live beyond today, or there will have been no point in us returning to Earth! There will have been no point in the culling! We will all just die anyway."
Abby sighed, rubbing her burning eyes. Why did Clarke have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't she just listen? She stood up, straightening and turned and looked at Clarke, leveling her daughter with a silent command. "You will stay here, and you are not to continue to go to Ton DC without my permission. Do you understand? Do you UNDERSTAND?"
Clarke growled lightly under her breath, there were other ways to accomplish what she wanted. She stared at the dark grey floor, refusing to meet her mother's eye. "Yes."
"Good. It's late, you should sleep." Abby turned at the door and looked back at her daughter's bent head. She felt a momentary twinge of regret at being so hard on her child, but it was her duty to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from herself. "Clarke, we will talk about it more in the morning. I-I love you."
She hesitated, but when no reply was forthcoming, she simply sighed, resigned to her daughter's stubborn nature, and she slipped through the door leaving Clarke alone.
Clarke waited another 45 minutes, until the guards would change their post, and then she grabbed her bag and slipped quietly along the halls of the broken Ark, and quietly through the fence. She made her way quickly through the woods, knowing the way, having traveled it many times each day. She waited at the designated spot, looking upwards at the gleaming stars. Home. So far away. But home no longer. Her home was here now, on Earth, but sometimes…sometimes she missed the great dark expanse of sky littered with dying stars. She waited quietly, lost in the bright shine of what once was, and what could still be.
"Klark."
END FLASHBACK
She felt the tears drip silently down her cheeks as she gazed up at the sky. It was almost time, the guard would be changing soon. She looked up again watching as a dying star streaked through the ink sky leaving a trail of fire behind it. Perhaps it wasn't so much dying, but was really a rising phoenix. She snorted at the thought.
She got up, dusting the leaves off her pants and scrubbed at her face. It was time. She quickly made her way across the field, glad the moon was hidden by clouds. She made her away around back, noting the brush still covered the small hole in the fence. It had been her escape, and now it would let her back in to do what she must. She clambered through the hole, glad the electricity was still off for this part of the fence. She imagined the power was probably running low, and they needed to conserve as much as they could. She slinked through the shadows long the outer wall, surprised that there was only one guard near the hatch. She waited for him to turn and walk the perimeter, and then she grabbed the hatch door and lifted it slowly, mindful of the creaking.
She slipped in and dropped lightly to the floor, pressing herself back against the cold, metal wall. She waited breathlessly, worried someone might have heard her drop to the floor. Nothing. She carefully made her way down the corridor, staying in the shadows as much as possible, until she reached the door she was looking for. She pulled the bent wires from her pocket, a gift from Miller. She manipulated them in the lock, smiling when she felt it spring. She stepped soundlessly through the door and made her way to the shelves, grabbing a patched rucksack and filling it quickly with what she needed.
She turned and started to make her way back to the door, when one last object caught her eye. She hesitated, unsure if she should take it. She remembered reading about an old tradition from before the war. Perhaps it was both appropriate and necessary. She grabbed it and gently placed it in her rucksack. Finally.
She made her way quickly back the way she had come, ducking in to corners to avoid two guards who talked quietly as they made their rounds. She tuned them out, not wanting to listen as they whispered about the mountain and the wounded. Didn't want to hear the slight cut of fear in their voices when she caught the words "Grounders" and "Commander."
She stilled in the corner trying to quiet her breathing even after they had passed. She knew she needed to move. She needed to hurry if she wanted to reach her destination, and the longer she stayed, the more likely they would find her. But she worried, even though she had tried for days not to think about what the collapse of the mountain would mean to the alliance.
She shook herself out of her reverie. It was no longer her problem. Right?
She made her way back to the hatch, listening for guards footsteps counting the seconds, waiting for the pivot and then for the sound of his feet crunching on the dead grass to fade. She hopped up, popping the hatch, and made her way out; back through the hole in the fence, back across the field. She reached the shelter of the trees just as the moon peeked around the dark clouds. She had made it. She turned and set off away from the dark camp.
