Alas! S3 has started and I am nowhere near finished this fic! But, good news everyone, it appears that I'm either secretly a member of the writers who create the 100, or I'm actually a prophet and can see what's going to happen on the show before the episodes air because so far eps 1&2? Have been so close to what I wrote that I actually debated quitting this story because they were so similar. That being said, I love this story too much to not keep writing.
I'm rewriting some things and changing some plot points around now so my story doesn't seem like I'm point-for-point rewriting s3, so I can't promise when the next chapter will come. I'm going to try updating at least once a month, if not every two weeks!
(I want to point out that I had the grounders calling Clarke 'Mountain Slayer' before the show did! Which means I got here first, haha!)
This chapter is similar lengths to the first, as everything is still being set up in the story. I promise that there is only more content and excitement to come! Thank you to everyone who left feedback, I love getting responses from all of you!
Warnings for this chapter: Emotions. So many of them. Mentions of blood and past trauma.
The trek back to Camp Jaha took less time than Clarke expected. Danica, with Kane and Miller's support, had been able to walk for a few hours. She'd collapsed from shock less than an hour ago, but Kane insisted that he would be able to carry her the rest of the way.
They'd left the bodies of Isaac and Westley on the border. It would have taken them too long to transport everyone. Clarke promised herself she'd make a trip back eventually to give them a proper burial.
Bellamy had managed to shake off the most worrisome symptoms of his concussion, though Clarke didn't envy the headaches he was probably going to be having for the next few weeks. He was limping on his sore knee, and the hours of walking weren't helping, but she felt it was a mostly superficial wound, as was the cut on his thigh. The same for his wrist, though he continued to cradle it rather than jar it. His nose had stopped bleeding, though was tender to the touch and so he hadn't wiped away the blood running down his chin. It was more familiar to see him in blood then to see him clean, Clarke mused. She wasn't sure how to respond to that kind of thought.
Between Bellamy, Kane and Miller they'd all explained the situation to Clarke. Her people were sick, her mother was worked to the bone trying to care for all of them, and they were ill-prepared for the winter. This had been a mission to get medicine from Mt Weather to help fight the illness spreading through the camp. Clarke debated the possibility of her being able to slip through the grounders undetected, but realized quickly it would be impossible. Bellamy would also insist on coming with her—Octavia was sick, he'd said—and he would just slow her down with his injuries.
It was strange, being back with her own people. They didn't speak much except for Clarke to explain that she would talk about her experience with a group, rather than over and over again—and she was thankful they respected that. It could also be that they were too tired and traumatized from Isaac and Westly's deaths to want to make idle conversation. Being alone wasn't much louder, but the noise of living creatures kept surprising her. The scuff of feet in the litter of the floor, the labored breathing and Danica's groans that were timed with the sway of Kane's pace.
She felt… happy. She hadn't expected this sort of peace. Weeks of solitude and her own thoughts had let her come through several stages of acceptance, and with winter on its way she'd felt it was time to return to her people. Clarke was whole, and at peace with the things she'd done. She was ready to lead again, and take care of everyone.
The situation with the grounders was troubling. Clarke had hoped that after the alliance the grounders and her people could live in peace. Lexa's betrayal had blindsided her and…
Clarke let out a slow breath. She was beyond that pain now.
Even with the betrayal, she had thought that maybe the two cultures could coincide. They'd spent enough time together to gain some respect, maybe some friends among the different sides. Apparently she'd been too hopeful—or, more realistically, Lexa continued to be a poison that destroyed any and all attempts at peace.
She was looking forwards to seeing her mother again. And all of the others. Raven, Octavia, Monty and Jasper. Even Lincoln.
They had to stop and let Kane rest every hour. Danica was still breathing well on her own, and her heart rate wasn't abnormal for someone in pain. They were lucky the arrows hadn't been poisoned.
Bellamy hadn't really looked at her since his initial hug. Clarke figured it was due to his minor concussion. She hadn't necessarily expected to see him again in such harrowing circumstances, but then again filthy and covered in their own blood was how she remembered most of their days together before she'd left. She could admit to herself that she'd been hoping for a warmer welcome from him, since he'd tried so hard to make her stay, but she was also glad he wasn't making such a big deal about it. Clarke hated big public displays, and she knew that was exactly what she was walking into back home. Besides, Octavia was in trouble. Bellamy would block out everything until she was safe.
It was a good thing Clarke was coming home now, she figured. With Bellamy distracted in the way his tunnel-vision love for his sister made him, their people would need another leader with a clear head. The cold made everything seem clearer to her, and it also fascinated her.
So far she'd been able to scavenge enough clothing that she stayed warm, and had a hood and scarf to protect her from heat loss. Her hands were difficult, as gloves were very rare to come by, so she mostly kept them tucked into her sleeves. She noticed that everyone else was wearing gloves—made for the sterile environment of the arc, not life on earth—or wrappings of cloth that still left the fingers exposed. Miller, at least, had wrapped his fingers together so that he looked like he had two thick fingers and a thumb on each hand. It wasn't ideal, but it would keep him warm and still give him some dexterity.
Beyond the scraps they had Clarke wasn't sure where they were going to get more clothing to keep everyone warm. She couldn't think of any other bunkers she'd come across that might have those supplies for them.
The forest around them didn't change, exactly, but Clarke's heart began to beat faster. She recognized these areas, remembered her last long walk from Mt Weather. She'd carried a heavy load on her shoulders and in her heart then, and been unable to walk through the gates. Now she could come home, finally, and be among the people she cared about. It took a lot of willpower to resist running ahead like a child. They were still far enough from the camp that it was pointless to split up.
"So are you Chancellor now?" Clarke asked Bellamy. He'd been staring straight ahead, jaw clenched, and she wanted to try and distract him.
"What?" he asked, startled from his thoughts.
"Kane has been letting you take charge all day," Clarke explained, "did you get promoted?"
Bellamy had fallen silent, staring at her. She wasn't quite sure why he kept being shocked when he looked at her, "Uh, no. not exactly. Technically Kane and your mom are still Chancellors—mostly your mom. But everyone treats me like I'm one too. It's weird," Bellamy admitted.
"My mom's okay though?" Clarke couldn't help but ask.
Bellamy finally smiled, "She hasn't stopped hoping she'd see you again."
The way he said it made Clarke pause, "Did you stop thinking I'd come back?"
Bellamy glanced away, "It… it's been a while. And we know what earth is like."
Clarke focused on the trail ahead, "I guess I hadn't thought about it like that."
The trail they were following became more compact and flat, evidence of increased usage. Clarke recognized the bend ahead that meant they were very close to camp now.
"I'm going to get some help," Miller said, coming up beside Clarke and Bellamy.
"Be careful," Clarke said, "tell my mom to prepare for two arrows with no exit wounds."
Miller nodded, and then started jogging ahead of them. He picked up speed as he went. Clarke and Bellamy both turned back to help Kane. He was red-faced and breathing hard, but Clarke could tell he was determined to carry Danica himself.
"Are you sure we can't help?" Clarke offered anyways, "Bellamy and I can manage carrying her for the last bit." Bellamy's arm seemed to be better, and he wasn't cradling it to his chest anymore. He was probably sore, but he'd survive. His limp was getting better too.
"No," Kane grunted, "I can do it."
As if the world were conspiring against him, on his next step Kane tripped over a rock he wasn't able to see and nearly dropped Danica. Even though she was barely conscious she cried out as her wounds were jarred. Clarke lunged to help steady him, and was relieved when Bellamy joined her.
"Let us help," Bellamy said. Even though his tone was suggestive, Clarke knew he was giving an order. Kane let out a long sigh and helped Bellamy and Clarke to maneuver Danica into a sitting position between their linked arms. Walking slowed down considerably now as the two of them carefully picked their way along the road. Clarke was thankful for the heat of Bellamy's hands around her wrists against the chill in the air, and tried to be mindful that she didn't dig her fingernails into his skin.
By the time the trees started clearing Clarke was working up a good sweat and the chill wasn't bothering her much, save for her exposed fingers. Neither she or Bellamy were talking to one another, instead focused on breathing, but they still managed to pick a nearly synchronized path, avoiding all pitfalls without accidentally moving in different directions. This kind of synergy was something Clarke had missed while she was alone. She had always been proud of her and Bellamy's ability to put the past behind them and work together like they had been doing this for years.
People were gathering at the gates already. Three people with a stretcher and four guards with their guns drawn were running out to meet them. Clarke's breath caught at the sight of the Arc, on the ground, and the place she had come to know as home scattered around it. There were new buildings in Camp Jaha that she'd never seen before, and more fire pits. It looked much more lived in, and she could even see a patch of land where they'd been growing food for the summer.
Clarke recognized Jackson, her mother's assistant, as one of the men with the stretcher. His face was almost comical when he recognized her, but he went right to work. Clarke and Bellamy lowered Danica onto the stretcher, and Jackson led the stretcher back into camp, while beginning to inspect the arrow wounds.
As they walked the final yards up to camp, Clarke teared up at all of the faces she recognized. It was overwhelming, after weeks of nothing, to see so many people at once. She didn't think there was a more beautiful sight. People were openly staring at her, in complete shock. Clarke wasn't sure if it was her presence that was so startling, or the realization that two of their people had died.
Her mother burst out of the crowd with a shout, and ran forwards to meet them before they got through the gate. She was crying, and Clarke didn't realize how emotional she was until she was in her mother's arms and hugging her so fiercely her hands were shaking.
"You're home," Abby was sobbing, "you're home, you're finally home."
Clarke was babbling too, blinking back tears. She let herself have this moment, and let herself feel all of the emotions that came with it. How relieving, she'd found, to feel emotion and let them pass through her. Blocking them out wasn't worth it, but neither was being consumed by them.
Finally Clarke pulled back, "Mom, you have a patient you need to see."
Abby wiped the tears from her face, though she didn't once take her eyes off of Clarke, "Jackson can manage on his own."
"Mom," Clarke said fondly.
Abby laughed, and nearly started crying again, "Okay, okay, I'll take care of Danica. Don't you go far, okay? I need to be able to find you when I'm done."
Clarke nodded in response, and Abby pulled her in tight for one more hug.
Her mother left for the arc, where they had the medical supplies, with Kane following her, and Clarke was standing alone. Not entirely, she realized. There was a large crowd looking at her with wide eyes.
"We were attacked by grounders," Bellamy explained loudly. Clarke almost jumped. She'd forgotten he was there.
"They are keeping us away from the mountain," Bellamy continued, "we've asked to speak to the Commander, and I'll make sure we get what we need. It might take longer than we expected, but we're strong, and we will survive."
He gave a quick nod to signal the end of his speech and then walked towards the far east end of the camp, not towards the Arc. Clarke assumed that was where Octavia was, though she was sure she remembered Bellamy and Octavia building a home in the west side of the camp. She'd have to check up on him later, or remind him to get to medical to be examined.
The crowd dispersed, with several people giving Clarke side-long glances and looking away quickly when she noticed them. They almost seemed… mistrustful. She'd been expecting a much warmer welcome. Clarke let out a huff. This was good, this was exactly what she wanted. To slip back into regular life without drawing too much attention. If she was going to be completely honest with herself, she wanted a little attention. Just not too much.
Karma was listening, because she heard her name being called. Monty, with Miller and Raven behind him, were running across the yard. He hit her without attempting to slow down, and engulfed her in a hug so tight she couldn't breathe.
"You're alive! You're alive!" Monty shouted, babbling other excited nonsense. He was even tearing up a bit. Clarke couldn't help but laugh. She was so excited to see her friends again.
They finally let her go just as Raven got to them. Raven was smiling, but there was something in her look that said she wasn't as happy as the situation called for. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned away, making it clear she wasn't going to hug Clarke like Clarke was expecting.
"Hey," Clarke offered tentatively.
"Hey," Raven nodded, "I can't… I can't believe you're here."
"You thought I was dead too?" Clarke forced herself to laugh, "apparently a lot of people did."
"It seemed to be the only explanation for why you left us without even saying goodbye," Raven snapped.
Clarke had expected some people to be mad at her for leaving, but she didn't expect it from Raven. Her sudden mood shift rocked Clarke back onto her heels.
"I… I'm sorry," she said, "but I couldn't be here. After what I did, I needed to take care of myself."
"I'm glad you enjoyed your vacation," Raven said, "some of us didn't have that luxury."
"Raven!" Monty pleaded.
Miller finished Monty's sentence, "Clarke's alive, aren't you happy?"
Raven huffed, and then nodded, "I'm glad you're back," she admitted, "I am. But you really pissed me off by abandoning us like that, Clarke. I'm not going to be over that just because you came back."
It was entirely unfair, but Clarke had always appreciated Raven's honesty. She nodded solemnly, "Okay, thank you."
Raven nodded, and then turned on her heel to head back to wherever she was needed. Clarke felt embarrassed. Almost more than anyone she'd been looking forwards to seeing Raven again. They shared a convoluted history, but Clarke trusted her and thought of Raven as a good friend. Raven's anger felt misplaced, and Clarke wasn't sure how to make her feel better without groveling. Which was something she would never do, and Raven would probably hate her if she tried.
Jasper skulked out of the crowd. He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and he looked so much thinner than the last time Clarke had seen him. Her stomach lurched. The last time they'd spoken had been over Maya's dead body. Jasper didn't look like he was faring well at all. His eyes were dull, and while everyone on Earth always looked like they needed a bath, Jasper seemed like he was long due for any form of personal hygiene. He'd even let a beard grow in—as much as a 17 year old boy could grow a beard at least, but the patchy hair gave him an even more haggard appearance. He nodded in acknowledgement but before either he or she could think of what to say, Monty cut in again.
"Are you here about the sickness? Do you have an idea of how to cure it?" Monty asked.
Clarke shook her head, "I just got filled in on everything. I was on my way back when I ran into Bellamy and the others on the border."
"Where did you go?" Monty asked.
"Everywhere, nowhere," Clarke explained, "I didn't have any destination in mind."
Jasper finally spoke up in a weak voice, "Clarke… why did you go?"
Clarke looked away from him, "Like I said… I… I couldn't come back. I'd done terrible things and I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't bring that weight and darkness home with me. I just needed to figure out how to let it all go."
"We needed you," Jasper said softly, "Raven was right. You did abandon us."
Clarke didn't know how to have this conversation. She wasn't sure how to talk about Mt Weather to Jasper without having to relive the fact that she'd killed the woman he loved. And all of their allies in the mountain. Everyone in the mountain. She could hear the sound of her footsteps in the silent corridors, filled with burning bodies.
"I'm assuming you're staying with your mom," Monty said, startling her out of her memories, "she's moved since you left. We can show you where that is."
"Where are Bellamy and Octavia staying? Bellamy needs to get his head checked," Clarke asked. Plus, since Octavia was sick Clarke wanted to have a look at her and see if there was anything she could do. Besides, while Octavia had been furious at Clarke at the end of the war, Clarke hoped that maybe she was the only person who understood that Clarke hadn't abandoned them.
"She's in the sick tent," Monty explained, "well, it's more of a hut, really. But we can't go there. This flu is really contagious, and only medical staff are allowed in."
"What about Bellamy?" Clarke asked.
"Medical staff and Bellamy," Monty amended.
Miller cracked a grin, "Yeah, they tried to keep him out and he nearly broke the guys arm. It was kinda awesome."
"Oh," Monty remembered, "and Lincoln. He says he's had this flu before, and since his immune system is the most suited to the environment your mom is letting him stay in the tent to help take care of everyone."
"Which way is it? The sick bay?" Clarke asked.
"Sick hut," Monty corrected, "and it's over there, but your mom actually lives this way."
"I want to visit the sick first," Clarke said, "if this is as bad as everyone's saying, they're going to need my help."