Authors note: this story will most likely be very depressing with some metions on sh, suicide, and things like that. Please dont read if things like that trigger you.
The wind is cold against her warm, blood soaked skin. It blows her hair and the color changing leave gently, like a lover brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. It calms her relentless soul enough for her to breathe normally, but her heart still races and her mind is still plagued with their faces.
And oh god their faces.
Burnt and bloodied, a look of heartbreaking terror in their melting eyes. They follow her, chase through the trees right behind her. Their hands reach out with ill intent but they never touch her, always falling short. She could feel the smaller ones, the innocent children, clawing at her feet. But when she looks down to see what's there, all she sees is the uneven ground and flashes of their begging eyes. How they looked at her like she could save them.
If only they knew she was the monster that did this.
Apologies slipped off her tongue even though no one was around for her to apologize to. The small part of her brain, the one that told her she was overreacting, being too emotional, told her that she needs to stop. Take a seat against the towering trees and breath the cold air into her overworked lungs and just breathe.
But that part of her was small at the moment, too overpowered by the rest which screamed at her to pull the trigger of the stolen gun she has tucked into her waistband.
Pulling that lever made her like this, maybe pulling this trigger can fix her.
But whenever she stops, her feet slipping over disregard sticks and animal bones, she'll put her hand to the gun and his face would come rushing back.
How he looked at her so be treated, funny considering what he was doing to her people, how his son's stunned gasped sounded over the static of her radio. She'll replay it over and over, stuck in the dirt like her feet were planted there like the crops grown by the farmers, with burning tears flowing down her cheek.
Eventually, when her tears begin to feel like acid and her breathing gets too erratic, the small, old, part of her wrestles for control. She wipes away the tears like they're just water not the bolling acid she feels and she leans against a tree and calms her down. Then she's running again.
~A~
Two days later.
Clarke stares up at the abandoned mountain with something awfully close to dread pulling at her stomach. She doesn't know why she's back but every time she turns away to leave, to get away from this hell on Earth, her feet stay still, betraying her.
"I don't want to be here." She whispers tearily to the wind, to herself, to the trees and the birds, to anyone insane enough to listen.
Her body is cold now and the blood has dried off and is beginning to peel. It makes her stomach churn.
She falls to her knee clumsily and wraps her red stained hands around her arms, hugging herself like she wishes someone else would.
She glares at the metal doors with a chilling fury, a rage so hot it turns icy.
"You did this to me." She spits out hatefully, the tears that have been threatening to fall from her dried up eyes finally breaking free and falling. " I wasn't a monster before, I was one of the good guys."
"Maybe there aren't any good guys."
Her mothers words flow through mind, getting stuck on the almost disgusted tone she had been trying to hide. Clarke can't blame her either, who would willingly tell a monster that they're evil?
"I tried to be good," she breaks like ice being trampled on in the Azgeda nation, so easily and so messily. She falls apart in front of the metal doors, closed and hiding the radiated bodies slumped over the use to be stainless floors.
Your hands used to be stainless until you bathed them in blood.
She wants the voices to go away, she wants everything to go away actually. The trees, the birds, the wind and the tears, the blood and the agony, she just wants to be away. Far, far away from the deceivingly beautiful mountain that plagued this Earth since long before she was born.
The mountain with the pretty, pure snow white tops and the evil nightmare deep within it's depth.
Hunched over, holding herself in a heartbreaking away, she shatters. A being once so whole becomes so broken that the Earth itself begins to crumble with her.
Rain begins to fall from the once clear, shining skies, and soaks her down to her bones. Thunder roars in sync with her sobs and lightning flashes with every beat her heart skips. A storm of pain, a storm of broken alliances, a storm washing away the last remains of a girl once so happy, so filled with love.
Existing has never been this painful before. Existing shouldn't feel like a chore she wants to refuse to complete.
Her teeth clatter against each other as her body shivers violently. She rises off her muddy, bruised knees, almost slipping in the process, and shuffles uncaringly towards the door. Her mind turning numb to the heap of pain this place brings. Her only thoughts are about getting out this downpour that mimics her emotions to a terrifying degree.
She stops, her eyes focused blankly on the keypad she needs to use to gain entry. She goes over everything she's learned about Mt. Weather, looking for a clue to what the passcode could be.
Then it hit her, Monty had whispered something to her before she left. Something that she stored away, deeming unimportant in the moment.
'Nothing he says is unimportant." She scolds herself, feeling even worse for dismissing her friends unnoticed help because of her own suffocating emotions.
'He'd understand, he would forgive you..' The old her whispers to herself, not that it matters. Forgiven or not it doesn't excuse deeming something he said as unimportant, worthless. Monty didn't look at her like a monster like everyone else did, even though Bellamy tried to hide his distaste, he deserves more than her.
"I'll miss you Clarke, 6724, take care and hurry home." He had whispers into her ringing ears as they clung to each other like they were each other's lifeline.
' You left him, he cared for you and you left him like trash. You don't deserve his faith, his loyalty.' Something cold, merciless, mummers into her ear. Something she doesn't recognize.
Swallowing, which burns her dry throat, she punches in the numbers and prays to the spirits the grounders believe in for this to work.
She hesitates before pressing enter and waits with a bated breath. If this doesn't work then she's stuck in the rain, in the cold, in the open.
Luckily a beep sounds out around her seconds later and the scratched metal doors opens with a squeak that gets drowned out by the violent storm above them. Sighing in relief she jogs in and closes the door, safely inside her own personal hell.
It's dark now, with the dim outside light no longer streaming in and the overhead lights shut off. It's pitch black wherever she looks and it makes her panic rise.
Stumbling forward in a frenzied rush she drags her hands against the wall to the right of her, searching frantically for a light switch. Almost halfway down the hall the motion lights turn on, blinding her with their intensity.
A sigh of pure relief leaves her chapped lips as she slides against the closet wall and huddles into her protectively. Resting her weary head on bruised knees, ignoring the mud she feels settling onto her equally dirty face. Staring absently at the lifeless gray walls holding this hell up and her mind begins to drift.
' Why did I do this?' A flash of the pile of bodies in the meal room swim past her eyes, ' Why did I do this?' Bellamy's lost and agonized look burns her, ' Why did I do this?' Lexa's soft "May we meet again.", breaks her.
Tears spill out her eyes and splash onto the rough concrete floor beneath her. Her eyes sting at the sudden liquid filling them, and she instinctively blinks until it's nothing more than a passing pain.
"I didn't mean to hurt everyone," She stutters out in between her broken sobs, "I didn't mean to do this. I just wanted to help ."
She wants to scream and so she does. It echos around her, bouncing off the walls and slamming back into her. She gasps desperately, pulling her legs closer to her, trying to get as much air into her lungs as she can. . Her heart beats loudly in her chest as her body shivers against the non existent breeze. Faintly, she remembers her mothers lessons on panic attacks and realizes what's happening to her.
" You need to get them to breathe, clarke." Her mothers drills into her young, blonde covered head.
"But how do I do that?" she inquires curiously, watching as her mother writes down her notes in a frenzy.
"It differs, you can try and get them to count backwards with you to distract their mind or, if they are comfortable with it, pull them to your chest and get their breath to match yours." She mutters absently, her eyes narrowing in annoyance at her notes.
Her small head tilts to the side, her braided hair falling with it, "Can you show me one day mommy?" She asks softly, seeing her mother is getting annoyed.
It did no good, she snapped anyways. "No." She denies sharply," Now, go bug your father."
Dipping her head to her chest, hiding the tears her mothers harsh words bring, she runs towards her daddy.
Her breath shutters at the memory she had forgotten, thankful for what she learned but hurt by the way her mom brushed her off. The dismissal only fuels her growing thought that she means nothing.
"100, 99, 98, 97, 96……." Her voice drifts off as her heat calms and her eyes begin to drop. Blinking rapidly, she tries to keep herself awake but it doesn't work and eventually she gives into her body's demand. Besides how bad can a little rest be?
~A~
She's running from something. It claws at her feet and nips at her head, with claws as huge as her arms and a body bigger than anything she's ever seen, Clarke feels a fear she's never felt before.
Dashing around a corner she flinches at the blinking light above her. Each bout of darkness brings another ghost for her to see when the light returns. Finn, Dad, Wells, Atom, Tris, The Mt. men, the grounders at the dropship. They surround her, creeping forwards every time she turns around frantically looking for an escape which doesn't come. They creep closer and closer and she can smell the breath in their rotten mouth.
She crashes to the ground, begging.
"PLEASE, I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO THIS!" She screams out til her voice is hoarse and it hurts to breathe. The ghost claws at her skin relentlessly, immune to her cries of mercy. They rip away skin and muscle until she's nothing but a pile of bones and pain.
Her intact blue eyes shutter close as her head falls onto the ground, the ghost having gotten full of their revenge and wandered off. She stares, dazed and in pain, at the flicking lights above her as her eyes drift closed once more.
She paid the price of what she's done, but her past still, and will forever, haunt her.
~A~
She jolts awake, triggering the motion sensor lights. Gasp upon gasp spills out of her mouth as she shifts around relentlessly, making sure no marks marr her once smooth, pale skin.
Once she makes sure she's alright she drops back onto the wall behind her, eyes staring darkly down the hall.
"I should get some food and water." She mutters absently, lifting her hand and taking a quick sniff at her under arm. Shivering in disgust at the smell of copper, sweat, and dirt, she drags herself up and looks for where they keep their showers.
~A~
She finds them easily, having memorized the layout of this hell hole as soon as she escaped with Anya.
Thinking of Anya makes a swarm of guilt fill her body and she rests her heavy head against the shower wall where she stands numbly under the steaming water.
Sighing she lets her mind drift away and remember the few moments she spent with the strong willed General. How her dirty blonde hair shined when the light hit it right, how her eyes glinted with a challenge when they fought at the river, how her smile looked when she covered her with mud. A flash of her giving Lexa Anya's braid storms across her mind and she whimpers.
Her thoughts lead back to Lexa, they always do.
Clarke lets her mind replay the last positive memory they shared, how soft Lexa's lips were when she kissed her, how her forest green eyes shined with admiration and hope and as Clarke's hand drifts lower on her body a quick flash of Lexa's dark eyes when she abandoned her startle her out her hazy mind. Her hand drops to her side in shame.
Her eyes tear up quickly but this time she refuses to let them fall, tired of feeling weak.
" Emotions don't make you weak."
Her own naive voice drifts in her ears and her cheeks warm with embarrassment. How could she be so naive, so... stupid.
A feeling of intense anger or annoyance (she's not quite sure which one) drives her emotions into haywire. Screwing her eyes up she spins around, thankfully she doesn't slip, and slams her hands into the soaked fall. One hit after another she doesn't even see the blood that begins to drip down her wet body.
Punch after punch, she puts all her emotions into her fist and with one last hit she falls onto the fall in a lifeless heap.
'So much for not crying.' She thinks bitterly as her emotions get the best of her and she drifts off into another restless sleep.
Her last thought before falling into another nightmare is ' And may the world have mercy on my wicked soul."
While stuck in her unconsciousness mind, Clarke remains blissfully unaware of the grounder reporting back to his Heda about the girl with sun kissed hair returning to the Mountain she conquered.