Trigger warnings for PTSD, distrust, vulgarity, verbal abuse, mentions of past stalking, past abuse, past child abuse and past sexual assaults and historical murders, misogyny, abuse of women and abuse of disabled individuals, mentions of intolerance of other religions and historical homophobia racism, anti-Semitism and anti-Romanism.
Reference to the movie "Clue," with Tim Curry, directed by Jonathan Lynn.
Warriors of the valley
Chapter 34
A type of compromise
Monroe had been keeping an eye on Clarke for a while after Clarke's talk with Demona. Hell, she always been keeping an eye on Clarke. But now, she had the feeling that there was more that she was keeping from everyone. The difference now? Monroe felt like Clarke was hiding something from her.
And Monroe didn't like that. Not even remotely.
She wanted Clarke to trust her. Completely. And she knew that asking for complete trust on Clarke's part was asking for too much. But she just wanted more trust.
The things that Clarke was keeping-they felt heavy.
As some gargoyles walked by and Finn had chatted them up and they were talking and laughing together, and Jasper, Monty, Harper and Fox were preoccupied petting some dog gargoyles. Doglike gargoyles without wings, humanoid forms and without humanlike speech.
As they were preoccupied, Monroe asked Pascal, Trina and Wells to keep an eye on the others. They agreed, and Monroe and Niylah went over to where Clarke was seated, near one of the buildings, petting a gargoyle dog that had made its way over to her, its long, reptilian tail wagging madly as she pet it.
As Monroe and Niylah got closer, Monroe got a look at the bright red gargoyle dog, and saw that while it was mostly reptilian physically, it had some fur around its neck and shoulders, similar to a lion's mane. The man was almost gold, but not quite. Its ears were pointed, and had a slight snout, but not much of one. Its eyes were white, like all gargoyle dogs' eyes were.
"Hey," Monroe said softly, "Can we talk?"
Clarke glanced up at them, then looked down back at the gargoyle dog. She nodded to the gargoyle dog, "Mind if Rory comes with us?"
Both Monroe and Niylah looked at Rory. The very happy gargoyle dog looked very content to stay with them. And as Monroe knew, gargoyle dogs couldn't talk. At least, they couldn't make humanoid speech. So, if she heard anything, she wouldn't be able to say it to anyone else.
"Don't mind at all," Monroe confessed. She looked to Niylah, "You cool with her coming with us?"
Niylah nodded. She had learned what the Ark word, "Cool" meant. She found it odd, but never questioned it.
Clarke got up and went down the steps and joined Monroe and Niylah, all three of them walked off, with Rory at their heels.
When the three of them and the gargoyle dog reached the forest, a few feet from the buildings and the people, the three humans facing each other and Rory sitting between them, looking between them curiously.
"What is it?" Clarke asked Monroe.
Monroe said, "I'm sorry. But I need to ask, what did you and Demona talk about? You've been acting funny since you talked with Demona."
Clarke put her right hand on her hip, giving off the exact vibe she wanted to give off-which was zero patience.
"What are you getting at?" Clarke asked, smirking, "I always act weird. Well, I have, since this second timeline, anyway. And you heard some of what she told me. About the Space-Spawn. About the war that no one except the Luwoda know about. You know this already."
"Yeah," Monroe said, "But I know that's not all you two were talking about."
Clarke glared. "What do you want to know?" She asked cautiously.
Monroe said, "Nothing. I just want to know what else you two talked about. Okay, there were actual aliens that invaded and were gotten rid of by Demona and the Luwoda, and Demona and Luwoda erased the memories of everything that happened from the minds of everyone outside of the Luwoda. Got it. But there was more, wasn't there?"
Monroe could tell from the way Clarke tensed that she had hit a nerve.
Clarke said dryly, "Well, you know how Demona was saying a few days ago that she understood me? Well, it turns out she and I are more alike than I ever imagined." She grinned hatefully, "We're both a couple of mass murderers as it turns out."
Monroe looked at Clarke, now worried. "What do you mean?" She asked, "What did Demona do?"
"Oh, the short answer?" Clarke asked, sounding coy, "Everything wrong. But hey, what do you expect? That's people, in general. But here's something I think you'll find even weirder. You know that guy, Puck? The guy we've seen around here. Turns out he's a fairy of some type. Yes, fairies exist. Actual fairies. Magical types of beings. And no, I'm not fucking around," Clarke pointed at her face that had no smirk at all now, "Do I look like I'm shitting you?"
Monroe stared at Clarke, her mouth agape. "Shit," she said finally, "Fucking really? That…that's insane."
"More insane than time travel, gargoyles, magic and an actual alien invasion that was wiped from everyone's minds, except for the Luwoda?" Clarke asked, "Honestly? The Fair Folk existing isn't that weird to me. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's really fucking weird. But I can't say I find it the weirdest thing in this load of shit."
Despite her rudeness, Monroe saw what Clarke meant. They had already basically time traveled. They had discovered that magic and gargoyles existed. And that aliens apparently, had tried to enslave or wipe out the world, but were stopped with magic, and no one remembered except the Luwoda.
Really, between all of that, was that really such a shock, that fairies also existed?
"Oh," Clarke added, "Gods exist too. That's what Demona says, anyway."
Monroe sighed, "Because of course they do."
Niylah seemed in no way surprised. "Well, all people of the tribes know that," Niylah said, as if it was just common knowledge.
Monroe chuckled, "Right. You're in no way surprised."
Clarke grinned at Niylah. "Sorry about our cynicism," she said, "We were raised in a culture where a lot of religions weren't tolerated. There aren't that many religions allowed on the Ark."
Niylah frowned. She looked very disturbed by this. Not that Clarke blamed her. Intolerance for other peoples' religions had always been a human problem. On the Ark, Christianity, Judaism, Taoism and Buddhism were the most common religions. Islam and Hinduism and other religions were just barely tolerated.
Christianity was seen by many as the default religion, and anyone who wasn't a Christian, even if other religions were allowed, tended to be denounced by the Christian parts of the Ark.
"People are kept from celebrating and following their religions?" Niylah asked, "That's…Klark, Munroh, I'm sorry, but that's barbaric."
Clarke nodded. "Yeah," she said, "It is. And don't worry, no offense taken. I can safely say that the Ark people are a bunch of plebians. Intolerant and narrow-minded."
Clarke smiled, unable to help but think of her father, Jake Griffin. "Well," she said, "Almost all of them are. One of them wasn't. My dad. And well, we know what the Ark people do to people like my father."
Monroe nodded, looking at Clarke sadly.
Niylah also seemed saddened. "What was your father like?" She asked, seeming curious.
Clarke looked at Niylah, hesitating. Then she said, "He was…so good. Just so fucking good. He wanted to help people. When it came to religions? He was an atheist. He didn't believe in any gods. But he believed in all religions being allowed to be expressed and celebrated. He did not believe in peoples' culture or religions should be destroyed and stifled," Clarke's jaw clenched as she ground out, "And the Ark people chewed him up and spit him out through the airlock."
Monroe felt like she had been punched in the chest. She wanted to reach out. She wanted to hold Clarke, promise her that everything was going to be okay. But she knew that Clarke might not accept any affection right now.
"I'm sorry," Niylah said, voice a whisper now.
Clarke nodded, shrugging. "Well, whatever," she said, "That's just how everything is, right? That's how people are, right? The good ones are cut up and tossed away like trash. The pieces of shit of the world are celebrated and praised."
Rory must have sensed the negative turn in Clarke's mood, because she leaned forward and nuzzled her head into Clarke's side, whining for Clarke's attention.
Clarke looked at the gargoyle dog, dropping her right hand from her hip and petting Rory several times, smiling down at the reptilian pooch.
"Thanks, Rory," Clarke said, "I appreciate it."
Monroe supposed that now was as good as any a time to make a joke, so as to relieve tension.
"Should I be jealous?" Monroe asked Clarke playfully.
Clarke grinned at Monroe, despite her mood, "It's a dog. So, of course, you need to be jealous. At least when it comes to me being less cautious. Animals don't try to deceive. Not unless it's for food."
Monroe smiled sadly. Well, she understood that logic. When someone had been betrayed over and over again, simplicity was always a good place to hide. Even if it didn't solve anything.
Clarke added, looking at Monroe, "In any case, fairies are real. So, congratulations children, Peter Pan might be real."
Monroe groaned, "I hope not. I mean, not just because of the obvious racism stuff that we talked about in the ride, but also because Peter Pan always creeped me out growing up."
"Really?" Clarke asked, smirking.
"Yes, really," Monroe said, "I mean, I know my dad was abusive and all. But I always thought of some weird, flying boy stealing children from their homes unimaginably creepy."
Clarke nodded. "Oh, yeah," she said, "I understand that. But hey, if you pay attention to the old stories? That's pretty fucking common with fairies. I mean, that is, if the stories are real. Maybe the fairies don't steal people at all, but the stories say that people, mostly children, are stolen by them and replaced with things called "changelings." But who knows if that part is true?" Clarke added, a dark grin on her face, "Who knows how many of those stories were made up to explain away murdering the disabled or women who didn't do as they were told."
Monroe's eyes widened. "Oh, shit," she said, "I hadn't even thought of that."
"Uh, yeah," Clarke said, "Got a wife who won't give you sex? Simple, claim she's not really your wife and not even human and needs to die. Got a wife who doesn't want another child or make dinner? She's an evil monster, kill her. Got a disabled kid you wish you didn't have? Oh, well, obviously not a human. Kill the kid. Just imagine what they did when they found they had kids that were homosexual or bi."
And Clarke said 'when,' not 'if.' Because homosexuality, bisexuality, pansexuality and other sexualities outside of heterosexuality, was far from uncommon, despite what conservative people claimed.
Which meant that it was very likely that where the stories of the fairies came from, parents most likely discovered that some offspring was sexually attracted to someone of the same sex, and that was when shit had hit the fan. They would not tolerate such possibility and assume that their child was not human and evil and needed to die.
That was just how human beings were. When things didn't fit their prejudice, they threw the "imperfections," out, or killed them.
That was just how humans were.
Monroe looked pale. And like she might be a little sick. "That's fucked," she said.
"No shit," Clarke said dryly, "But Monroe? Guess what? That's humanity. That's human history in a nutshell."
Monroe looked disturbed now for an entirely different reason. "That isn't all human history," she said, "There are a lot of good things humans have done."
Clarke's eyebrows lifted, "Like what? War? Genocide? Bombs? Radiation? Global warming? New methods of murder? If it's that we came up with ways of getting rid of enemies, that doesn't count. Because that's just us humans fixing problems we created on our own. We've contributed nothing to the world. Nothing. People throw around statements, saying that people need to contribute to the world. To give and give and give. But what exactly is there to contribute? The world is already fucked up as it is, and every time it is? It's the fault of human beings."
Monroe looked pained. Someone this misanthropic, how could she help Clarke?
How did she even begin to help Clarke when she was so steeped in an ocean of cynicism, misanthropy and anger?
"Well, it's not just humans," Monroe said, startled at her own resourcefulness, "You said yourself, Demona's done some very questionable things. It's not restricted to humans."
"No, it's not," Clarke admitted, "But it seems to be mainly humans, doesn't it? I mean, besides the stuff Demona told me? I haven't heard of any gargoyle that's committed genocide. And you know what? Who do you think taught Demona how to be like that? She's lived for centuries, seeing human horrors. No wonder she's like that. I'm thinking the other gargoyles aren't like that, only because they haven't lived as long as she has."
Monroe sighed, "Alright, so, let's go with that. That all humans are untrustworthy. What do we do now, then?"
Clarke snorted, "Don't take it as some sort of big action I'm taking. I'm not saying we should kill all humans. I don't care. I'm just telling the truth. That's all. We get the Ark down, get the people in the Ark safe, and we get rid of the crew that takes us to some location away from the Americas. I don't care about the philosophies behind it or what happens next."
Clarke looked down at Rory, who was continuing to nuzzle her head into Clarke's side and Clarke snorted, scratching behind Rory's right ear as Rory's tongue lolled out, tail wagging happily.
Monroe didn't answer. That wasn't exactly reassuring, but she guessed she might as well be happy with Clarke not intending to wipe humanity out. Because honestly? If anyone could succeed in doing that, it was Clarke.
Back on the Ark, Callie had sent a few more drones out and some of the other drones had come back.
A good portion of the countries she had sent the drones to? Had come back with footage of groups of people in those countries. Which eliminated those countries as possible places to go to for safety.
However, recently, four more drones returned.
With promising footage. The places that Callie had sent the drones to, were Ireland, Scotland, Spain and Norway, Sweden and Finland.
There were no people there. None. Unless there were people hiding in some underground base, there was no sign of any human beings.
It was…definitely promising to see.
Callie decided she needed to chase after these leads more. Now that there was no footage of any people in those areas, she'd need to investigate every nook and cranny around those countries and continents.
She was going to send the drones out, and investigate further. And she'd send the information she had discovered to Clarke.
She sent the drones out, sending them for the locations and to scout out every inch of those locations.
She grabbed her radio and turned it on, speaking into it. "Clarke? Clarke, are you there?"
Down on the ground, as Clarke scratched behind Rory's ears, she heard static coming from her pocket.
Rory cocked her head, hearing the static, whining.
"Easy, Rory," Clarke said, pulling the radio from her pocket and spoke into it, "Callie?" She saw Monroe and Niylah raise their heads.
Callie's voice came through, "Clarke, the drones I sent to Norway, Sweden, Finland, Spain, Ireland and Scotland came back. There aren't any humans there. As far as I can tell. I guess they all migrated during the bombs and radiation."
Clarke tried not to be hopeful. Being hopeful was dangerous. It ended with her getting kicked in the teeth a lot. "That so?" She asked, "You sure?"
Callie answered, "I think so. I'm going to send drones out and have them go down into more secluded parts of those countries. See if there is any hidden part of those countries that have people in them."
"Right," Clarke said, "Okay, I get that. You do that. Thanks, Callie. I know this is asking a lot, but this will benefit all of us. Well, maybe not ALL." Clarke knew that her reference would be caught.
Her deal with Callie when it came to Raven was still very solid.
Clarke was looking forward to killing Raven. That ungrateful, finger pointing piece of shit.
But before anything else, they needed to find a place where the Ark could land, without worrying about a war.
Callie said, "You're not wrong. And yes, the deal still holds. But let me get back to you and see if there aren't any people in any of those countries. But I think we have a winner."
"Good to know," Clarke said, trying to ignore that lingering hope in her chest, far more dangerous an emotion than any hate, rage or anger, "How long do you think you have till you're finished investigating those specific countries?"
Callie answered, "I think it will take till the day after tomorrow for the drones to investigate everything in those countries. They will take their time, but two days should be enough time to fly from city to city and town to town, seeing if there are humans there."
"Alright, got it," Clarke said, not yet ready to believe that they had a chance at peace, "In two days, you'll know and tell me if those are safe countries to go to?"
"I'll do that," Callie assured Clarke, "Unfortunately, all the other countries that I've sent the drones to have human beings there. I haven't checked eastern Europe yet. But given that includes Russia, which, as you said, probably has bunkers, so, I think we can conclude that there are probably people there. I haven't checked western Europe yet. The drone that I sent to Holland came back. There aren't people there. But I haven't checked the rest of western Europe."
Clarke was curious now. Not any people throughout Europe, from the sounds of it. Why? What was wrong with those countries?
Aside from the obvious, which was that Europe was where racist, anti-Romanism and anti-Semitic people had tended to thrive at one time. But that, in theory, would no longer be the case. So, what was wrong with it?
"Can you see if there's anything wrong with any of these countries?" Clarke asked, "Why people would avoid living there?"
"I'm not sure," Callie's voice sounded startled, then worried, clearly not having considered that as a possibility, "Shit. I don't think there's anything wrong with these places. At least, I hope not."
"Yeah, I hope not too," Clarke said dryly, "Alright. Get back to me when you have the answer about if there's anyone in any of those countries."
Callie said, "I'll do that. Hang tight, Clarke. I think we have this."
Clarke snorted, "Yeah, no kidding. But yeah, get back to me when you know. Thanks, Callie."
Callie said goodbye and Clarke heard silence after.
She put the radio away and turned back to Monroe and Niylah. "So, you two heard that?"
"Yeah," Monroe said, "What deal was Callie talking about?"
Monroe watched Clarke, seeing Clarke's jaw clench, before Clarke said, "It's nothing. Just that business transaction that I mentioned before. That I'll let Callie adopt me and take care of me, if she helps find us a place without other human beings in it."
Monroe nodded, but wasn't buying that that was all it was. The way Clarke reacted made Monroe think that there was more going on besides that business deal that Clarke claimed she and Callie had.
Monroe's instincts were put on alert when she saw how Clarke's lower jaw clenched.
There was something more Clarke was hiding. What?
Still, Monroe knew that she couldn't needle any answers out of Clarke. She wouldn't do that to Clarke. But if there was something dangerous going on, then she would have to be on alert. Not just for herself and the others and the rest of the Ark people, but also for Clarke herself.
"Well, alright," Monroe said, "Since it doesn't seem like there's anything else we can do right now, Clarke, do you want to do something? I mean, aside from talking about business as always."
Clarke smirked at Monroe, Monroe's words leading right to a suggestive joke.
Monroe grumbled, "No, Clarke. I don't mean that. Not yet. I've told you this. I meant listen to more music or do something else like that."
Clarke growled, "Boring. But fine. If you really insist. What do you want to do?"
Monroe turned to Niylah. "You told me that this tribe has some DVD players and TVs, as well as CD players and tape players?"
"They do," Niylah said, "That's what they've said. I don't know what DVD players are. Or what CD players or TVs or tape players are."
Monroe laughed, "Well, you've got a lot to learn. We'll show you. If you want to come with us and end up living with the rest of our people, you're going to need to get movie references. So, we'll show you some of those."
Niylah looked amused more than anything else.
Clarke said dryly to Niylah, "Don't worry about it. We'll explain it later. But yeah, I guess we can do that," she looked back at Monroe, "Where exactly are these machines?"
Monroe looked at Niylah and Niylah said, "The guards said that the tek is not far from the lot where the two of you were before. In one of the smaller buildings."
"Okay," Clarke said, "I guess we can go now." She began walking, Rory happily following behind her, tail still wagging.
Monroe followed and so did Niylah, and Niylah said something to Monroe that startled the Ark woman.
Niylah said, "You saw that, didn't you, Munroh?"
Monroe looked at Niylah, confused, "Huh?" She asked.
"Klark's jaw, Munroh," Niylah said, "It clenched when you asked her about her deal with your leader, Kalee. Klark is hiding something. Something she doesn't want us to know about."
Monroe's eyes widened. Shit. Niylah had noticed that too.
"What do you think she's hiding?" She asked Niylah.
Niylah confessed, "I do not know. But it's troubling. We know that Klark is willing to keep secrets from us, it must be serious. She wouldn't keep anything, unless she felt it was to keep her people protected."
Monroe wasn't convinced. She knew there was something going on. Something she was positive she wasn't going to like.
"So," she said, "You don't think we need to worry about anything?"
"No," Niylah said, "I don't think so. However, it you really think that we should be on alert, then we keep an eye on her."
Monroe chuckled, "I already know that. But I feel like she's hiding something because she knows that she's not supposed to be doing whatever it is she's going to do."
She glanced at Niylah, and Niylah looked like she was thinking about this.
"That's troubling," Niylah confessed, "However, unless she actually does anything, we can't say for sure that she means any harm."
Monroe agreed with that and added, staring at Clarke's back, "Well, we can keep an eye on her. But I think I can try to help. I'm closer with her now than before, remember?"
Niylah chuckled sadly, "Munroh, didn't Klark tell you? That just because a person is in a relationship with another person, doesn't mean that that other person can be trusted or known. Klark is good at hiding her secrets. She kept her identity hidden for months and months after the mountain, not telling my father and myself her name. I only knew because I had heard that Wanheda had left her people after killing all the Mountain Men, and that Klark had come to my post for help around the same time that Wanheda had left her people."
Monroe sighed. So, Niylah knew how well Clarke kept secrets. Knew that and had beaten Clarke one time herself.
That was good to know. And impressive. It also meant for Monroe that she might have a better and more formidable ally than she had first thought.
Monroe turned to Niylah, "When Clarke turns eighteen," she said, "Will you get into a relationship with her?"
Niylah nodded. "If Klark wishes for me to," she confirmed.
Monroe smirked and said, "Well, if that's the case, I think it will be hard for her to be able to resist opening up to us both, when we're both there for her. Taking care of her."
"Yes, yes it will be," Niylah agreed, "You can still do more, Munroh, do you know that?"
Monroe looked at Niylah, startled. "What do you mean?" She asked.
Niylah had a smile on her face now. "You are currently in a relationship with her," she said, "So, you are in a position to try to steer her more to seeing people as not all evil."
Monroe gave a weak laugh, "I'm trying, okay? I'm trying. I don't think it's working."
Niylah smirked as she said, "Yes. You are. But I don't even mean that you necessarily need to convince her. Just that she knows that you'll be by her side. That you won't leave her. I think that that will be enough."
Monroe was surprised. Mainly because she realized she understood what Niylah was saying.
Yeah, she got it. She wasn't going to leave Clarke's side. Not ever. And yeah, that sounded like it would be enough to work for Clarke. Given everything she had gone through, Monroe found it hard to believe that it wouldn't be.
She'd stay at Clarke's side. Never leave her. Always be loyal to her. And never let her forget that she loved the other woman.
Monroe got whatever it was Niylah was trying to say to her without further words.
Monroe would continually tell Clarke that she loved her. Over and over. Clarke might not accept her love fully, but it would stay in Clarke's brain, even if Clarke didn't want that to be the case.
Monroe nodded, accepting what she needed to do.
She felt a smirk form on her face. Clarke wouldn't know what hit her.
When Clarke, Niylah and Monroe and the gargoyle dog, Rory, reached the building where Monroe said the old technology was, Clarke turned around and faced the other two people with her.
"So," Clarke said, looking to Monroe, "Where's this DVD player and TV?"
"I'll get it," Monroe offered, going past Clarke and Rory, the latter of the two happily standing up on her back legs, trying to get Clarke to pet her again, front paws on Clarke's chest, causing the blonde to chuckle and pet Rory.
Monroe went into the nearest building where she had learned the technology was, and found a couple of guards, turning to her. She knew that the guards in this building, spoke English-or Gonasleng, as they called it.
She said, "Hey, can my friends and I look at a TV and a DVD player? And some of the movies you guys have?"
The two guards looked at each other, then one of them said, "Fine. But be careful with the tek, Skaikru."
Monroe nodded.
The two guards went further into the building and pulled out a medium sized flat-screen TV, a DVD player and a few stacks of DVDs.
Monroe got out of the building, giving the guards room enough to come out, following her, with the technology.
Monroe joined Clarke, Niylah and Rory as the guards set up the technology.
"Well, damn," Clarke said, sounding impressed, "They really have TVs and DVDs and DVD players. Though, I guess it would be sort of lesser technology by future standards. But what do you expect from Grounders?"
Clarke said it so flippantly, and she looked at Monroe, that Monroe of course, heard Clarke's statement for what it was. A way of trying to get a rise out of her. Monroe was fine with that.
It wasn't like she gave a damn about the Grounders. She just didn't think they were all alike. And she sure as hell didn't want Clarke to think that they were all alike. Having that mindset wasn't healthy.
But Monroe knew that Clarke didn't see all Grounders the same. She was just saying it to try to piss Monroe off or worry her. For that, Monroe was a little relieved. Clarke wasn't actually hateful of all Grounders.
Just trying to get Monroe upset. But it wouldn't work.
Monroe didn't respond, just watched the guards set everything up.
There was static that came suddenly from Clarke's pocket. All three Clarke, Niylah and Monroe turned to look at Clarke's pocket. Clarke pulled out the radio, looking confused. She said into it, "Hello? Callie?"
Callie's voice came through, "I'm sorry, Clarke, but Abby's requesting to talk to you. One of the guards brought her some food and she begged for him to come to me and ask if I could let her speak to you. It's your choice, Clarke. I won't let her talk to you, unless you want to talk to her."
Clarke sneered, "Why the hell would I want to talk to her?"
Monroe's expression darkened, realizing she had the chance to confront one of Clarke's abusers, if only by voice. She wasn't going to tell Abby about the deal Clarke made with Sekena and Anya. No way.
But she WAS sure as fuck going to chew the bitch out. Give her what she deserved for how she treated her own daughter.
"I want to talk to her," Monroe said, voice hard, glaring at the radio.
Clarke looked at Monroe, startled. "Why?" She asked cautiously, "Are you going to tell Abby or Callie about…that?"
Monroe shook her head. "No," She said, "I'm not gonna sell you out. But I want to talk to Abby. Now. You can watch me if you want. To make sure I don't tell her or Callie anything."
Clarke eyed Monroe, then nodded and said into the radio, "My girlfriend, Monroe wants to talk to Abby, Callie. I'm not talking to her, but Monroe wants to."
It suddenly occurred to Monroe that they hadn't told Callie about her and Clarke's dating. Her eyes widened at what she realized Clarke had just told Callie about.
There was silence, then Callie asked, sounding startled, "Your girlfriend? You mean-?"
"Yes, Callie," Clarke said, snorting, "I mean my actual girlfriend. Monroe and I are dating now. Long story. And yeah, she knows everything. She wants to talk to Abby. Fuck knows for what reason. But yeah, she's my girlfriend. Deal with it."
Monroe felt warmth fill her chest at Clarke's words. It was small, but it meant so much to hear Clarke defend her. And actually call her "girlfriend."
Callie said after a second, "Um, alright. She can talk to Abby."
Clarke hesitantly handed the radio to Monroe.
Clarke watched Monroe suspiciously as Monroe listened to the radio, waiting to hear Abby Griffin's voice.
There was silence for a while. Then Monroe heard several footsteps, then heard the clanking of a metal door that Monroe was positive was that of a skybox's door. And she heard quiet speaking. Then she heard Abby's voice, making her jaw clench.
Monroe glanced at Clarke. And Clarke must have heard Abby's voice, because her face contorted into a sneer as soon as Abby's voice came through the speaker of the radio.
"Um, hello? Who is this?" Monroe almost laughed at how timid Abby's voice sounded. So different from how entitled she always sounded.
"This?" Monroe said, feeling dark anger slither throughout her body, confronted now with the bitch that had been one of the people that had made Clarke's life hell, and she spat out, "This is Clarke Griffin's girlfriend, you piece of shit. Now, you're going to fucking listen closely, lady. Clarke is a kid, you got it? It was barely a week or so ago, when you told her, a seventeen and a half-year-old, that she, a fucking kid, had to take responsibility for the rest of us 100. That isn't fucking right, you piece of shit! You told her, a kid, to take responsibility for ninety-nine other human beings. Seriously, lady, who thought it was okay that you be a mother? Clarke should have been taken away from you ages ago."
Monroe was on a roll now, glaring daggers at the radio as she seethed out, "Your daughter, you bitch! You know, the one you were supposed to protect and love no matter what?! You killed her father by selling him out to Thelonius Jaha, and you got Clarke sent to the skybox, then to Earth as a guinea pig! You did this to her. Not Thelonus Jaha. YOU did! Fuck you, you sack of shit. I genuinely hope you die, you fucking pig. Fuck you for what you did to Clarke. To the most amazing person in the entire world. Fuck you and die!"
Monroe was shocked by the rage and raving that came out of her as she did that. Her eyes widened at what she realized she had just said and quickly gave the radio back to Clarke, worried. She looked at Clarke, wondering at how her girlfriend would react to such anger.
Clarke's eyes had also gone wide. She looked at Monroe, stunned.
"Whoa," she said, seeming impressed, "Monroe…I-"
There was the sound of crying on the other end. Clarke looked down at the radio and snorted.
"Yeah, yeah," Clarke grumbled, "Boo fucking hoo."
There was the sound of shifting on the other side of the radio, and then Callie's voice came through.
Callie said, "I didn't hear all of that. But wow, um, Monroe, what did you say, exactly?"
Clarke raised the radio and said into it, "Nothing but what the bitch deserves to hear. Never mind it, Callie. So, that's what I have to say. Everything that Monroe said to Abby? That's what I would like to say. My girlfriend summed it up best."
There was some hesitance, then Callie said, "It sounds like your girlfriend is very protective of you."
"Yeah," Clarke said, glancing at Monroe, looking surprised, "I guess she is."
Monroe smirked. "Don't sound too surprised, sweetie," she said, smirking.
Callie said, "Alright. I think I'm relieved. You have someone besides Wells looking out for you down there. I'm glad."
"Thanks," Clarke said, "Now, do you have any new developments?"
Callie said, "As of now? No. Sorry."
Clarke snorted, "Alright. Until then, hold off. Just get back to me when you get new information. And if you find anything new about the countries where we might be able to go without running into more humans, tell me, alright?"
Callie said, "Alright. I will. Promise. I don't think Abby will be trying to talk to you for a while now."
Clarke sneered, "Yeah, no kidding. But who cares? Good riddance."
Callie said, "Goodbye for now, Clarke."
"Bye, Callie," Clarke said. She clipped the radio back to her pocket and turned to Monroe, looking surprised.
"You meant that?" She asked Monroe, "What you said to Abby? You meant it?"
Monroe nodded. "I meant every word of it," she said, looking at Clarke hopefully, "Every single word I said, I meant."
Clarke stared at Monroe and for a moment, Monroe saw a brick being removed from that big, thick wall that Clarke had built up around herself, cutting herself off from being affected emotionally by anyone.
And again, Monroe realized that praising and affirmations of love were what Clarke needed, as well as loyalty.
Niylah had been right. Monroe was in a position to prove her love to Clarke and it would make a difference for Clarke.
Even if Clarke denied that it would make a difference.
Though Monroe knew it probably was overkill, she said to Clarke, "I love you."
Clarke almost gasped. She looked at Monroe, uncomfortable now.
"Yeah," She said nervously, "You've told me that already. Broken record much, Monroe?"
Monroe chuckled, "Maybe. But it doesn't change the facts. And the fact is, I love you."
"Stop it," Clarke growled, "I get it, okay? You are not going to be able to fucking change me by telling me over and over again that you love me, you got it?"
Monroe shrugged. "Who says I'm trying to change you?" She asked, "I just want you to be open with me. That's all I really want."
Clarke glowered and looked away from her girlfriend.
"Fuck," she growled.
Monroe had meant her words. She didn't want Clarke to change and become a ray of sunshine or something like that. She just wanted Clarke to open up to her more.
One of the guards walked up and announced in Gonasleng, "The tek is ready, Klark, Munroh, Niylah."
Clarke turned to the TV, glaring at it, paying heed to nothing else, not trusting herself not to snap or say something she'd regret.
There were times when she really wished she could duct tape her mouth shut. Or other peoples' mouths shut.
Why had humans been evolved to talk? It was sometimes really just plain fucking annoying.
"You know," Clarke growled at Monroe as the guards placed the DVDs down, "I sometimes wonder what it was I did to get your attention. But then I remembered, you're just probably out of your mind."
Monroe chuckled, grinning, "Just cause I'm probably out of my mind, doesn't mean that you don't deserve to be loved. And that I don't love you. It can be both, you know."
"Yeah, sure," Clarke said dryly. She then looked right at the guards, "Let me see what those are."
She looked down at the pile of DVDs. She grinned, eyes lighting up when she saw one of the DVDs.
"Oh, fuck, yeah!" She said, "They've got Clue, with Tim Curry."
"What's that?" Niylah asked, looking at the DVD box Clarke was looking at.
"It's a comedy," Clarke explained, smiling at Niylah-one of the few times it was an actual smile and not a dark, amused smile, Monroe noticed, "A story that's funny but with dark stuff in it. It's what's referred to in Ark culture as being a 'dark comedy.' I used to watch it a lot when I was a kid, with my dad. My dad made references to it all the time. It's more funny than dark. But it's got a lot of murders in it."
Niylah seemed amused by that as she asked, "There are murders in it and it's somehow funny?"
"Yeah," Clarke said, now grinning, "You'll see."
Monroe smiled, seeing the enthusiasm on Clarke's face. She loved seeing Clarke this enthusiastic and overjoyed. It was rare to see. It was nice to see too.
"So, you want to watch that?" Monroe asked Clarke.
Clarke nodded, glancing at Monroe cautiously.
"Alright," Monroe said, looking at Niylah, "I'm good with that. Is it okay with you if we watch that movie?"
Niylah nodded, smiling, also seeming to enjoy the enthusiastic look on Clarke's face.
The guard leaned down and picked up the DVD, handing it to Clarke. Clarke thanked him and opened up the box. The guard turned on the TV and the DVD player.
Monroe watched as Clarke pulled the DVD out of its box.
There was something surreal about them being here, in a post-apocalyptic world, in a tribe full of magic and gargoyles, and doing something as simple as watching a DVD about a comedy.
But then, she supposed that it was often the simple, small things that made life worth living.
The door of the DVD player opened up and Clarke placed the DVD down into the slot and the slot closed up.
The DVD began loading.
The guard gave Clarke a remote control. Clarke almost laughed when she saw it. A Grounder tribe, having access to technology like TVs, DVDs, DVD players and remote controls? Weird. Just weird.
As the DVD played, going to the menu and Clarke played the movie, and weirdly the menu asked, "play with all three endings," which Clarke selected as the movie played, Monroe sat down on the stone steps, leaning against a tree and Niylah sat down next to her.
Clarke walked away from the TV as the movie played. She was about to sit down next to Niylah, but Monroe reached out, caught her around Clarke's waist and turned the older woman around and pulled Monroe pulled Clarke onto her lap.
Clarke gasped, startled, looking at Monroe, eyes wide.
Monroe smiled. "What's wrong?" She asked, "Can't a girl hold her girlfriend while they're watching a movie?"
Clarke snorted, "Fine. I guess it would be asking too much to see if you'll finger me while we watch it."
Monroe didn't miss the dirty tone in Clarke's voice or the smirk on Clarke's face. Monroe suspected that Clarke was again, trying to provoke her.
Monroe said, smirking back, "I think we can save that for at least the third date."
She said it with such seriousness in her voice, that Clarke's eyes widened, suddenly realizing this wasn't a joke.
"Only, of course," Monroe added, "With your permission."
Clarke's eyes became even wider. Monroe smiled and looked at the TV. She wasn't joking. Sure, she wanted to move a bit slower, for Clarke's sake. But she knew she had to give Clarke something. Otherwise, she just might pull away from this relationship, throwing away any chance that Monroe had of trying to get Clarke to open up emotionally. She would have to provide for Clarke physically, if she wanted Clarke to give of herself emotionally.
It was a type of compromise.
So, if Clarke wanted to? Yeah, Monroe was more than happy to finger Clarke on their third date-while watching a movie, if that was the condition. Also, Monroe really just wanted to pleasure Clarke sexually. She had been holding back because she didn't want to immediately give Clarke what Clarke wanted, because she had worried that Clarke was in this relationship just for sex.
But yes, Monroe had wanted to make love to Clarke for a very long time. Clarke would call it "fucking," but Monroe would never call it that. With others, sure. But she'd never call it that with Clarke.
For Monroe, sex with Clarke would always be "making love." No matter what Clarke said.
Monroe wrapped her arm around Clarke's waist, pulling Clarke to her chest, getting a startled gasp from her girlfriend, as the movie began playing, the opening credits rolling, naming all of the stars, including Tim Curry.
Back on the Ark, Callie walked away from Abby's now locked skybox, disturbed. She had heard some of what Clarke's girlfriend, Monroe, had said to Abby over the radio.
Monroe clearly had remembered. Even without Clarke telling Callie that Monroe knew everything, Monroe's bitterness and rage was a clear show of how much Monroe remembered and how much she hated Abby for what she had done to Clarke.
Monroe very clearly was protective of Clarke. And hated anyone that had hurt Clarke.
Callie remembered reading up on Monroe, as soon as she had learned that Monroe was with Clarke in Clarke's group in Florida.
She had read up on all of Clarke and Wells's companions-except for the Grounder, Niylah, of course, because she had no information on Niylah that wasn't provided by Clarke herself.
Zoe Monroe, age seventeen, a few months younger than Clarke, an orphan-well, almost an orphan. Her mother had died, her father had been abusive and Monroe had run away from home. Monroe had grown up on the streets of the Ark. She had stolen food and fresh water and medicine. Had sold the occasional treasures that she had stolen on the Ark's black market. Had beaten up men and boys who had tried to sexually assault girls and women, had beaten up a couple who had been abusive parents to a young boy named Joseph Carter and their adopted daughter, Leah Carter. The children, of course, weren't related, but Leah's parents had died years ago, they were floated. And Mr. and Mrs. Carter adopted Leah, abusing both her and Joey. The abusive parents had since been arrested. Callie was going to try them and hopefully float them. But part of the changing in laws around here, was allowing an actual trial.
Monroe had been only fifteen when she had beaten up those two adults. It was impressive, a fifteen-year-old girl being able to beat up two full-grown people, both of them having been quite a bit bigger, especially the father of the children.
When Monroe had finally been caught, it had been for beating up a stalker of a young girl, Roma Bragg.
It seemed that Monroe was apparently, a champion for those that were abused.
Callie supposed that alone was good enough a reason for Monroe to be enraged at Abby.
Clarke now being Monroe's girlfriend probably only added more fuel to the fire.
But Callie wanted to know more about Monroe. Especially now that she was dating Callie's daughter. She knew who she would need to talk to.
The boy and the girl. Joseph and Leah Carter. Joseph had been eight years old at the time of Monroe beating his biological parents up. He was ten years old now. Leah had been six. She would be eight now. Staying in one of the "homes" of the Ark. A type of adoption center for children. They hadn't been adopted yet.
Callie wanted to talk to them. Ask them what they remembered about their savior from two years ago.