A/N: I almost can't believe I'm finally here! I'm a little proud of myself for getting this story finished, to be honest – it's the longest thing I've ever written, and it may have taken me a super long time, with plenty of bouts of distraction and letting life get in the way, but I did it 3
Disclaimer: All things The 100 related belong to Kass Morgan and the writers of the amazing TV show – the rest is mine!
Chapter Twenty-Two
Clarke
The first thing that alerted Clarke that something had gone wrong, was the hush that fell over those closest to her – grounder and sky people alike. It was then that she felt the malign presence at her back – that strange spine-tingling, hair-raising feeling you get when you know you're being watched.
Clarke turned to face Finn, and the gun he held aimed at her head. His stance was tense as he two-handed the gun, his arms shaking slightly so that he might have rattled if he wore bells. Wouldn't that be a novel idea? Putting bells on the creepy people in her life so she was never caught unawares again.
It was the shaking that worried her the most. You would have thought it would be having a gun pointed at her…except, pointing a gun didn't mean you were going to shoot it. But accidents happened, and the shakier, the more unstable a person seemed, the more likely this was to happen.
"Everyone stay back." She flapped her hands gently to nudge people on their way, watching them cluster together separately out of range, then looked Finn in the eye and addressed him. "What is this…an 'I can't have you so nobody will' approach you're taking now? I thought you were better than that."
"I'm not going to hurt you." Finn said. "I really don't want to hurt you. If you come with me, nobody gets hurt."
Clarke looked at his bloodied nose (with not a small amount of hidden satisfaction), his blown pupils, the tick he'd developed in his cheek and the restless way he shifted his legs. He might not think he wanted to hurt her, but there was definitely a part of him that resented all the trouble she'd caused him, no matter what he thought. He was capable of it. He was more than capable.
"The gun aimed at my face tells me different." She said.
Finn lowered the gun ever so slightly. "This is a precaution."
"An umbrella is a precaution on a winter's day. A coat when the sky starts to darken." Clarke mused. "What you've got there is an accident waiting to happen."
Finn's face darkened. "I know how to use a gun."
"I don't doubt that." Clarke said. Maybe she shouldn't antagonise the crazy person in the room, she reminded herself. But, honestly, this was all getting a little beyond ridiculous. Didn't they have enough to contend with right now without his bullshit?
"It seems like you do." Finn said. He raised the gun, demolishing the easy feeling she'd established. "Let me demonstrate."
Before she could utter a word of protest, he took aim at something behind her and pulled the trigger. Clarke instinctively ducked, people screamed and clamoured for safety. When she looked up, Finn still stood in the exact same place. The jump in his leg was no longer evident, and his arms were steady.
"Proof enough for you?" he asked.
Clarke looked behind her, at the wall where he'd aimed his bullet – it had hit dead centre on a screen attached to the wall, inches from where her head had been, then back to him. Someone had been practicing. She absently caught slow and subtle movements behind him, but didn't dare focus her attention any closer in case he turned his gun on whoever was stupidly, bravely attempting to interfere.
"Alright." Clarke rose to her feet, her bandaged hands held out in front of her in a placating gesture. She measured her voice so it sounded calmer than she felt. "I'm taking you seriously, Finn, but what exactly is it you think is going to happen if I go with you?"
"In time, we'll carve out a new existence for ourselves – start our own tribe." He looked at her earnestly. "Don't you long for peace?"
"Yes." Clarke answered honestly. "We've both wanted peace from the very start."
"Exactly." Finn smiled at her. "Everything I've been working towards all along has been for us, Clarke. Everything I've had to do. It's all been so that we can live peacefully together, like we always planned."
Clarke stared him dead in the eyes. "And where does everyone else factor into this plan?"
"We don't need them." Finn said. He looked about at the others, who she noticed were caught between the desire to run and the desire to fight. The grounders had shifted further back and she didn't blame them – what was she to them but another stranger, an interloper? "We'll be fine on our own, without the liabilities of keeping this lot alive. Remember how we used to talk about just taking off, living off the land, just the two of us?"
Clarke took the opportunity to scan behind him before he refocused on her. What she saw had her heart galloping in her chest; tears ridiculously filled her eyes and she blinked them away. "You know I never would have done it – I take my responsibilities seriously. Those were just daydreams – wishful thinking. Un-thought out words during a stressful time."
Keep him talking. Keep him focused. It became an internal mantra as she prayed he didn't look over his shoulder.
"But they don't have to be daydreams." Finn insisted. He stepped closer, and the gun wavered again. "Don't you see, Clarke, we can make our dreams a reality – you just need to stop taking responsibility for everyone else's happiness and follow your own."
"What if my happiness is dependent on being with everyone else? On being their leader and seeing them thrive?" She asked carefully. "What if it's being with someone else?"
Finn made a frustrated sound. "You don't mean that."
Clarke took a step towards him. "Finn, I need you to hear me, really and truly hear me, when I say that so long as I'm alive, there's only going to be one person I want to be with, and that person is not you."
Finn stared back at her, his eyes and expression like that of a dead fish. She flicked her gaze behind him again and then back when he shifted on his feet. He slowly positioned the gun towards the floor, and for a second, she thought that maybe he'd given up – maybe he'd finally gained an iota of common sense and seen the futility of his actions.
"So long as you're alive…or so long as he is?" Finn quirked a strange smile at her and pivoted on his feet. He aimed the gun behind him, square on Lincoln's chest.
Clarke made an involuntary noise in the back of her throat – her hands reaching out and then fluttering to her side. She didn't want to grab him and inadvertently make him pull the trigger. Lincoln looked past Finn, to her, giving her that look he had, like she was the only person in the room, followed by a reassuring smile. Then he looked at the man holding his life or death in his hands.
"You finally figured out that the only way she wouldn't be with me is if I'm dead?" Lincoln asked. "But you still think if you kill me, she will let you take my place?"
"Why not, savage?" Finn said. "It's survival of the fittest down here, and killing you just means I'm stronger."
Clarke took a step to the side and looked around her, eyes darting at the distance between the two of them as they interacted, and everything that was close at hand. Her blood seemed to thunder through her veins, making her jumpy and panicked. Her ears started to buzz and close up, until the only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat. Whatever happened, she couldn't live with herself if she let anything happen to Lincoln. Especially because of her past indiscretions.
Someone, she was never sure who, kicked something along the floor to land at her feet. It made a slight scraping sound as it came to a stop, but not enough of one to catch Finn's attention. Her hearing came back, like she was emerging from a tunnel – the sniffles of frightened teens, the tense silence from the grounders – the roar of thundering footsteps in the mountain and a strange whooshing sound that drowned everything else out. She picked it up tenderly.
"You always did underestimate her." Lincoln said. Finn released the safety, and Clarke narrowed her eyes as his finger pressed slightly on the trigger.
The sound of a two gunshots ricocheted around the room. One after the other in quick succession.
Red bloomed like a poppy in sunlight across Finn's back, directly over his heart. She stared from the growing crimson stain, to the pistol still gripped in her sore hand – one part astonishment, the other part remorse. Finn fell to the floor in a heap as people screamed.
"Clarke." Lincoln yelled. He staggered towards her. She dropped the gun and leapt for his arms. She thought she would always leap for his arms.
"It's okay." He murmured in her ears, for only her to hear. "You did the right thing. You did the only thing you could."
Clarke let her tears seep into his shoulder as she breathed in the pine and musk scent of him. God, she'd missed him. She'd yearned to be in his arms again. She fisted her hands in the material of his shirt despite the damage she was probably doing to her poor hands. He was hot to touch, and she pressed a gentle kiss against his neck before drawing back to look him in the eyes.
"You're really okay?" she asked.
He smiled at her weakly. "I've had better days."
Suddenly remembering the second shot, she drew back, her arms curled over his shoulders, and swept her eyes over his body. He was holding one leg off the floor gingerly, and she realised the second bullet must have hit him in the thigh. Blood was slowly seeping out and dripping its way to puddle on the floor at their feet. She'd knocked Finn's aim off, but hadn't diverted the bullet's path entirely.
She dropped to her knees and ripped away the fabric of his pants. Pulling at her shirt, she tore away whatever strips were left – practically leaving herself in a modified crop top – and applied pressure to the wound, examining it carefully.
"It's didn't hit the artery." She bound the strips so they'd stay in place. "But we need to get you out of here and fixed up."
Lincoln pulled at her arms until she rose to her feet. He gently turned her hands over and looked the now bloodied bandages over. "Looks like I'm not the only one that needs fixing up."
"This?" Clarke laughed gently. "This is nothing."
She hugged him fiercely again and felt him bury his nose in her tangled hair. The rasp of his unshaved chin sent a thrill down her spine. Now wasn't the time – it really wasn't – but he could make the entire world disappear for her when he wanted.
Was it her imagination, or was the room getting hotter and blurrier? She opened her eyes wider and looked around. No. Smoke really was filtering in through the gaps in the doors, seeping through the slatted vents like an insidious spectre.
"Shit." She exclaimed.
Lincoln hobbled back but didn't let her go. He examined the room with shrewd eyes, taking in the barricade they'd set up to stop people from entering, then lighted on a large figure approaching them out of the haze. People coughed, and clustered towards the clearest part of the room, looking worried. Had they shut people out, or shut themselves in?
"How did you get in here?" Clarke gave the approaching man a bewildered look when he stopped at their side.
"I followed your man here." Roan gestured at Lincoln. "I thought he could use the back up."
Lincoln nodded. "The disposal unit – we have to get everyone out of here now."
Roan took hold of Lincoln's arm and pulled it over his shoulder, Clarke took the other side, and together they shuffled towards the corridor off of the main cage room. It was also the least smoky part of the room at this point, but even so, Clarke started to cough. All this smoke inhalation was probably doing a world of good for her over-worked lungs.
As they passed Finn's body, Clarke paused briefly. He looked peaceful. Wasn't that what people always said about someone after a violent death, especially when they'd lived a violent life? They looked peaceful in death. It was strange, it was cliché, but it was true. Later, she'd probably find some tears for him and the way this had worked out, but right now she could only be glad that Lincoln was warm and alive, if not quite whole, beside her.
Rosa and Davey approached them as they neared the huddle of raggedy survivors. The grounders called out greetings to Lincoln, some of them obviously familiar with him from before they were captured, and one woman with shrewd eyes and a sharp looking face stood at Roan's back. She was just about falling down on her feet, but she had her head held high as if daring anyone to confront her.
"What do we do Clarke? The fire must have spread this way." Davey said.
"Are we going back through the tunnels?" That was an anxious sounding Rosa.
Clarke shook her head. "The tunnels will be compromised. Tell everyone to follow me - there's a way out through here."
The trio herded everyone towards the double doors, yanked them open and paused on the threshold of the tin can room inside. People started to grumble in disbelief when no escape route was evident.
"There was a cart at the end before." Lincoln said. "I turned it on its side to climb up, it's not going to be a soft landing this time."
"I've got that covered." Roan said. "Just send them through."
Clarke turned towards them all and raised her voice to be heard over the din. The metal walls had started making ear-splitting shrieks, deep, rumbling groans that made feel like the floor might fall away at any moment, and she knew that must mean the fire was minutes away from breaching the room. "Everyone needs to come through in groups of four or five – the floor is going to drop away and you'll fall down. As soon as you land, move quickly out of the way to make room for the next lot."
"I'll go first." Rosa volunteered when no one stepped forward. People looked at her like she had a few screws loose. Clarke reminded herself to thank Rosa later.
"Take Lincoln with you." Clarke gently pushed him towards the girl.
"No." He held firmly onto her waist.
"Yes." she argued. "You're injured."
"No." Lincoln shook his head adamantly. "Nothing is separating us again."
Clarke looked into his eyes. She saw determination. She saw fear. But most of all, she saw love.
"Okay. Rosa and Davey, grab a partner each and stand in the middle." Clarke approached the lever as the four first volunteers stood nervously in the middle of the room.
Roan nudged the clingy woman towards the four nervous looking teens. "You too, Echo."
The woman looked like she might argue, but if Clarke wasn't mistaken, there was a serious element of hero worship going on there and she didn't dare argue with the ex-Prince. She inclined her head and stood with the others, avoiding touching them like she thought they carried the plague.
"Ready?" she asked.
Rosa nodded and Clarke pulled the lever. The five dropped in a rush of air – surprised screams following them. She doubted the grounder woman screamed – these people were too stoic for their own good. Screaming could be therapeutic.
"Alright." Clarke watched the hatch close up. "Who's next?"
A small explosion came from somewhere in the main room, and people swarmed her. She pulled the lever again and again – some didn't even wait for the hatch to close and gave the people in front of them scant seconds before following in their wake. No doubt there would be a few injuries and arguments resulting from this, but it was better than burning to a crisp.
When at last, it was just the three of them left, smoke billowing like a solid wall towards them, Clarke positioned herself over the hatch door, still holding Lincoln up with Roan helping, she met Lincoln's eyes. "Together."
He reached with her for the lever, and with their fingers interlocking, they pushed it down at the same time. The ground fell away beneath them, and as they dropped, she clung to his side and closed her eyes.
Cooler air rushed at her over-heated skin and she took a lungful of air that made her start coughing. It was a strange sensation, over pretty much before it had begun. And then they were landing on what felt like a bouncy castle, jostling about in a pile of limbs. Clarke opened her eyes when she got separated from Lincoln.
A familiar dark head peered at her over the side of a jerry-rigged net which appeared to be made from a strung out tent. In other words – the parachute that had saved the drop ship was now saving all their lives.
"We need to talk about your landing, girlfriend." Raven said.
Clarke let out a snort. She took Raven's offered hand a little gingerly and pulled herself over the edge. Dropping to the floor, she leant over to help Lincoln up from where he sprawled with Roan. They'd obviously bounced right out onto the floor with their heavier bulk.
"I didn't say I was the only one who followed you." Roan said.
"Like I'd let this one go off on a rescue mission alone." Raven gave Roan a friendly slap on the back.
"Come on." Raven strolled off. "These tunnels probably aren't the safest place to be right now – I sent everyone ahead, before you even ask."
She felt terrible for Lincoln having to navigate the uneven floor, but as usual, her man was a silent sufferer and he didn't make a peep. Up ahead was the deafening noise of many gathered people. As they finally cleared the tunnel entrance and the sky revealed the coming dawn, the clearing brimming with reunited grounders and sky people, Clarke looked took in his grey pallor and sweat beaded forehead with a worried frown.
"You need to rest." She said.
Lincoln sat down on the forest floor, right outside the tunnel. The fact he didn't argue with her was telling.
"I need a med kit over here." Clarke yelled.
"Clarke!" Her mother came running through the crowd, pushing people out of the way if they didn't move fast enough.
Clarke watched Abby make a beeline for her with mixed feelings. Anger, confusion, sadness…and relief.
"Clarke." Abby threw herself at her daughter. For a second, Clarke balked at the contact, rocking back on her feet with her hands at her side, then she flung her arms around her mother and held on tightly.
She was familiar, everything about her, from her smell, to her voice, to the way she rocked her side to side. Something Clarke wasn't sure she'd ever feel again – that familiar sense of home.
Abby stepped back and took Clarke's jaw in her hands. Their eyes met and held. A wealth of emotion – of reprimands and regrets – passed between them in that moment.
"I'm so sorry." Abby said. "So, so sorry."
"I know." Clarke said.
Before she could ask, her mother knelt beside her lover and began administering to him. "Let's see what you've done to yourself, Lincoln."
Clarke watched on in astonishment as Lincoln smiled wearily in greeting, and Jackson approached with medical supplies and a wave for her.
"Now there's a sight I thought I'd never see." Bellamy said. "Clarke…speechless."
Her mouth must have been hanging open because Bellamy wouldn't have got a shot in otherwise. She looked up to find herself surrounded by her friends. Octavia gave her a quick hug before tutting over her hands.
"What happened?" she asked. "Did you breach the mountain?"
"I take it back." Bellamy said. "You always have something to say."
To her surprise he hugged her too. Her eyes widened and she patted him on the back.
"Twice in one day?" Bellamy asked. He stepped back and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Griffin."
"Didn't you know?" Octavia laughed. "The mountain is burning down around their feet – they had no choice but to evacuate. We caught them all as they came through the doors – like lambs to slaughter."
"You killed them all?!" Clarke gaped at them.
"What do you take me for?" Bellamy said. "Of course we didn't kill them. We arrested the adults and detained the kids until we can sort through whose complicit and whose not."
He used little air quotes when he said the word detained, and Clarke followed his gaze over to a sort of make-shift animal holding area, set up off to one side. Kids were currently being entertained by a few teenagers enacting what appeared to be a comedy…or a tragedy…she couldn't tell. Maybe someone should work on their acting skills.
"Whatever you guys did in there saved us a lot of trouble." Bellamy said.
"Did everyone get out alive?" Clarke asked. She thought about those engineers from the generator room and hoped they'd made it.
"So far as we know." Bellamy said.
"What about the radiation?" She watched the kids in the pen. She thought she recognised one tow headed little girl who looked beyond bored with the scene playing out in front of her.
"Turns out they'd conveniently given all their people treatments prior to the fire." Bellamy said. "We got that much from the leaders before the Commander took over."
"Where are they?" Clarke searched the field.
"Lexa's got them in her private tent." Octavia said. "I'll show you."
Clarke turned to Lincoln. "I'll be back."
"You better be." They shared a smile.
She followed Octavia and Bellamy to a command post set up, surrounded by menacing looking grounders. They cleared the way when they approached, and though the hostility was palpable, they made no overt moves to stop them.
Clarke's eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light inside the holding area, then she saw them – President Wallace, Dr Tsing – a few others she recognised had positions of power. They looked like they'd been tortured and beaten. She knew that was the grounder MO, but that didn't make it any easier to witness first hand – even on her enemies. She wouldn't want to be them for the world.
She looked around for the third biggest power player in the mountain and frowned when she couldn't find him.
"Where's Cage?" Everyone looked at her in question. "Cage Wallace – President Wallace's son, head of their security."
"Dead." Wallace spat.
Clarke met the eyes on the woman who was clearly in charge. She wasn't sure she believed that, but for both father and son's sake, she hoped it was true, only it looked like she wasn't the only one who had trouble believing the captives.
"The grounders get the leaders, the soldiers." Bellamy discreetly said in her ear. "We get our truce."
She didn't like it. But sometimes you didn't get everything you wanted. You didn't get to keep all your beliefs and morals intact.
When they exited the tent, Clarke looked up at mountain. The sun blazed behind it, creating a burnished halo. Smoke rose from the ground and twinned with the morning mists. Dark trees rose up like spikes, reaching for the sky. Inside the mountain was burning, on the outside, birds called to each other at the start of their day, and people drank in the fresh air like water after a drought.
"Come on." Clarke smiled at Bellamy. "It's a long way home."
A/N: Epilogue will be up in a few days – hope you enjoyed the conclusion to this story!
