Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence.
- Leonardo da Vinci
Clarke took the needle in her hand and began to measure the right amount of the pink medicine that the camp hadn't actually chosen a name for. She knew it was some type of digitalis, but it helped those she could feel with a weak heartbeat. Those she helped told her their heart started working again from her very touch, she said she may be a good injector, but it's the foxgloves which do the magic inside.
A man around her mother's age had come to see her in the camp's hospital one day, he was 203 and must've been in the third shuttle to arrive from the Arc. He was barely his mid-40s and yet his heart was slower than she had ever heard. She asked to examine closer to find his skin was extremely rough, most of his body blue from bruises.
"How did you get this?" she asked, pointing to a very unusual red mark on the back of his calf.
"Oh, nothing Ma'am, I just accidently dropped a few bricks a few weeks ago which broke. The supervisor had to play to the rules you know…" he dropped off at the end, coughing a little, his wheeze continuing. The commanders at the camp never allowed for much development at camp since they landed. Many materials in camp were limited and those who broke anything, misused something, were subject to repercussions. Clarke tirelessly campaigned years ago for the camp to work with the grounders, the outside people in order to develop an understanding of how to live on earth effectively, but she had given up, she was never listened to. What annoyed her the most was her mother, Abby, or 143 as she now demanded her daughter call her, was one of those who never listened. Abby was a medic too and understood the limitations of never branching into the rest of the earth, no matter the risks. But had to play to Jaha, the highest commander, 103, as he somehow had something over her that Clarke never quite understood. Abby could never find out however what Jaha had over Clarke.
This man had obviously been subject to the camp's extreme rules and his labour had worn him down so much, his heart was ceasing to work.
"You're only 45, 46? Correct? ," she asked
"44 Ma'am," Clarke's heart fell a little, a man so young with a heart of an 80 year old. She helped him and told him to try and take it easy, if it was at all possible. She finished for the day and went to find her Jaha. He had to understand all his camp would be dead soon if he didn't lower the expectations and standards.
She was stopped by the guards outside his office as her angry pace was too soon halted.
"Let me in," she ordered. The two guards, wearing green/khaki tunics, looked at each other before reluctantly moving to the side. They repeatedly got in trouble for letting her in, as all Jaha saw her do was cause trouble. But they had to, everyone had a soft spot for her, even when they knew her as 097 not Clarke.
Jaha sat in his office, he was the only person in the whole camp to have a window, made of glass accidently made in the camp during a thunderstorm years before. He looked over the children's quarter he could see and the hill on the other side. He could see a little of the forest, albeit much, enough to see if there were ever intruders during the day.
"Jaha you have no idea-" Clarke stormed in, before being rudely interrupted.
"Slowdown 097 please, it's the evening, this is the one time we can begin to wind down." Jaha's low voice muttered. He took a glass of some red drink in his hand as he beckoned her over to the table in the corner.
"That's the thing Jaha, not all of us can wind down. I've just had a man come to me in agony, wheezing like a dying man. He's 44 Jaha, and yet he has the heart of an 80 year old. You work them too hard and they don't ever reap the benefits."
"097, I've known you a long time, in fact I like to think of you as a somewhat daughterly figure, it's nice that you can come to me with your concerns. However, your view here has no significance, time after time you come to me with these silly little problems, as if they are struggles, we all do not face. This is earth Clarke; please will you bring your head down from the sky to join us."
"You are in no way a fatherly figure to me," she spitted, "You don't even do him justice." Clarke was talking about her father, who years before Jaha had killed in a betrayal formulated by her own mother. She had only recently began to forgive her mother, realising that she was after all her mother.
"Your father was a silly, silly man 097, he may have been smart, but he put his intelligence in the wrong place. "
"You cannot speak like that when you put everything in the wrong fucking place!" Clarke stood up as Jaha also rose from the other side of the table to slap her across the face.
"Like mother, like daughter I see," Jaha snarled
"Don't you dare speak about her," Clarke cupped her face, her eyes beginning to well.
"I can see you speak out of turn just like 403 did this morning when she was put back into confinement for her misdeeds."
"Her name is Hera!" Clarke shouted
"She doesn't have a name!" Jaha screamed. There was a deafening silence. "You stupid girl! She doesn't even deserve one. Rebel scum!" Clarke wanted to scream.
"She deserved everything. And you took anything she did deserve away from her when you took her away from me."
"Imagine having a baby with that- that bastard- and thinking it deserved something!" Jaha spitted back this time.
"Imagine taking a baby away from it's mother's arms after 20 minutes only for her to never know who I was, for me to never get to know who she is-"
At this point her mother ran into the room- "The guards came for me to collect 097, I'm sorry 103, she speaks out of turn, she's just tired from a day at the hospital."
"I'm not tired mother, I'm angry,"
"Oh, do give in 097," Jaha returned, Clarke felt her heartbeat outside her chest. "We've had this discussion for nearly 17 years now, if you want to keep your position as commander, as so many of your stupid 'fans' outside this room want you to, you better keep whatever thoughts you have about my regime to yourself."
"Mother, tell him, please, tell him about the misery out there" Clarke fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face, her hands clutched together.
"Your mother won't do anything Clarke, she knows." Jaha rolled his eyes.
"Knows what?" Clarke asked
"Jaha!" Abby shouted. Jaha stood in shock. "I'm sorry, 103," Abby bowed her head, "This isn't the time, nor the place,"
"Tell her 143, tell her you know," he gestured . "Tell her you know all about 403."
"What!" Clarke exclaimed getting off the floor, stepping far away from her mother. "You knew!"
"I knew that baby was his, I'm sorry 097, I've made sure she's been alright." Abby tried to walk towards Clarke, but she backed away.
"You knew all this time, she's your grandchild for fucks sake. You knew that they had taken her away from me, how they took her away from me."
"097 it had to be done, to save you, to save her, to save me." Abby whimpered. "097 please you have to understand."
"I have a name, as does she. You should care that she does. You should care that I do, you gave it to me for Christ's sake. You betrayed her, like you betrayed father. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you again."
And with that Clarke ran away, past the guards, down the steps outside his office, towards her own tent, or 'room' as they told her at the child's quarter where she was kept while pregnant. A room is your reward for growing up. This cloth under a beam is what they call your salvation. She curled herself into a ball on the blanket, that was thin as she had given her thicker one- a privilege for all commanders- to a woman suffering of hypothermia who came to the hospital one morning.
She had never felt so lonely, everyone seemed to be against her. The very earth was against her from the minute she arrived. This was supposed to make things better. Was it the earth or herself who made things worse? She blamed herself. How could she have come to camp when she knew they would never have accepted her pregnancy, a commander's daughter giving birth a rebel's child? There was no mistake about what should be done. All other parents got see their children, play with their children, laugh with their children. Hera had been put in the child's quarter however, all outcasts they didn't know what to with went there. She wondered if Hera remembered her from the time, they had forgotten that she worked at the hospital when they let her come to get her splinter removed. She was so soft and gentle, around 12 years of age. Her hair was the same bright blonde as her own, but she had her father's eyes, and from their one conversation, his courage, his temperance, his loyalty. How embarrassing her removal from the hospital was, how she had made such a fool of herself in front of her own daughter. Clarke still had the scarring on her side from when they punished her after for continuing to speak to her when she came in. It was painful to touch but reminded her of the one hope she had left in this camp. As long as Hera was here, whether in confinement or no, Clarke must fight for what is right. So that Hera is safe when she becomes an adult, so she can be happy.
The amount of times Clarke had tried to break into the children's quarter in order to grab Hera and make a run into the forest was too many to count. She was always caught. She was always punished. Punished for wanting to be a mother to her own child…
Finn finds Clarke later in the night, meeting in their usual spot by the toilets as the two pretend to shower to only speak to each other. Clarke was the only other person who came down in the original 100 and he had been her friend ever since she came to camp.
Clarke tried to cover her eyes as they were still puffy from crying. Her whole body shook as she still was trying to cope with the shock of the evening's events. She had just lost one of the few she could trust at camp, and decided she lost her very own mother too.
"Abby knew about Hera," Clarke let out a cry as Finn held her tight brushing her hair.
"What? How can she have known? Did she do anything?"
"She didn't protest when Jaha brought it up that she tried to do anything. She must've just let him take my baby out of my arms," She sobbed into his tunic. Finn held her tighter.
"She even said, 'I knew that baby was his', she must've known I was here and pregnant and not doing anything whilst I rotted away in that horrible quarter. Jaha told me she's back in confinement however, so she must be doing anything she can in order not to sleep on those horrible bunk beds,"
Finn grinned and felt her soft chuckle against his chest. But then he pushed her away and held her at arm's length as she used her hands to dry her tears.
"Clarke, there's something I have to tell you."
She smiled briefly; Finn was never so serious. "There was a security breach this morning, three campmates had gone missing this morning." Clarke knew where he was going with this.
"Three numbers were missing; 395, 420 and –" "403" they said in unison.
"She did it! She escaped!" Clarke couldn't believe what she was hearing, she thought about how Hera was so much smarter than she ever was. She had got the hell out of here.
"So, there's something I want to show you," said Finn. "Now I know you said before you wouldn't escape with me because you couldn't leave her behind, but now we can, and we can go and find her." He suggested. A little hope began to enter Clarke again, as she inwardly repeated the words 'We can go find and find her'. She could talk to her daughter, she could play with her daughter, she could laugh with her daughter.
There was no doubt about it. She did have a little doubt however, when Finn led her to the drain outside the shower room however that they would have to swim through in order to reach the other side.
"You've got to be kidding me."