A/N: Happy Monday! I changed up the summary of this fic a little. Just keepin' the scrollers of ff. net on their toes. Think of it as a writers way of rearranging the furniture in their house, but with less heavy lifting.
Anyway, this chapter was really hard for me to write because I had no intention to change perspectives in this fic, and taking big risks/making big changes on a whim is kinda scary, but hey, it turned out okay. I think. I hope... I'll let you decide. eek.
"T-minus twenty-six days since the nuclear explosions, and-"
"Raven, you can't say 't-minus' unless you're counting down to something."
Raven released her grip on the handheld microphone of her CB radio, resulting in a brief static noise, and glared at the younger girl across from her. Letting out a prolonged, dramatic sigh, Raven pushed her thumb against the 'talk' button and brought the device back to her mouth.
"T-plus twenty-six days since the nuclear explosions and Octavia is still an asshole." The girl rephrased, earning a laugh and an eye roll from Octavia.
The shorter girl stood from her seat in the corner and sauntered to where Raven lay on a rickety cot, one heavily braced leg elevated on a stack of, what seemed to be, all the pillows in the room.
"They brought in some kid to the clinic today. Said she had radiation sickness." Octavia sat on an empty part of Raven's cot as she spoke. The statement piqued the older girl's curiosity and she shimmied into a half-sitting position using her elbows.
"Radiation?" She started to ask, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "But the levels have been stable." She continued, trying to read Octavia's expression for answers.
"I heard she was playing in a rain puddle. Must've been contaminated water." Octavia avoided eye contact with Raven as she spoke, her voice trailing slightly. Raven noticed the girl's change in tone and felt a tug in her chest.
"Outside?" She asked, though the answer to the question was quite clear, considering it didn't rain indoors. Octavia simply nodded, taking to tugging at the frayed strands of fabric on her jacket, which was ripping in various places. (Raven wanted to comment on the worn material, but decided to save it for another time.)
Silence ensued for far too long to feel comfortable. The outdoors was a touchy subject between the two; Raven still waiting to be cleared to go outside. Octavia had been cleared as soon as it was considered safe, being the picture of perfect health. Raven on the other hand...
"How's your leg?" The older girl let go of the button before Octavia had finished her question, not wanting her injuries to be spoken on while the radio was active.
"Fine." She didn't mean for it to sound as rude as it had, but she was sure Octavia was used to the curtness when talking about Raven's leg. The conversation alone was enough to bring back feelings of anger and resentment towards the situation she was in.
It had happened during the bombs. Raven had arrived at the Arkadia Army Reserve with a weeks time to spare, earning herself a job as an assistant to the army base's mechanic, Jacapo Sinclair, though he seemed to think the roles should be switched after seeing Raven's abilities. (Raven couldn't blame him. She was pretty, damn amazing.) After learning the basics, he felt comfortable sending Raven off to do her own jobs. She agreed with his decisions.
The tasks ranged from quick, simple fixes, such as a faulty outlet, to far more important jobs, like repairing broken medical supplies. So, when someone called in a testy light fixture, Raven was expecting a fairly easy job.
It was in one of the outermost rooms, used for storage of miscellaneous tools and hardware. She was definitely not a stranger to the room, often making trips to and from to get the necessary equipment for her repairs.
Raven had known the bombs were estimated to hit any day, but she assumed she was safe inside the sturdy walls of the army base.
It was late when Raven finally got around to fixing the light; most people had returned to their quarters, but Raven was wide awake, running off of her third cup of coffee that day. Because she loved her job, and sleep was boring compared to the overwhelming sense of pride she felt after completing any task. Big or small.
Looking back, Raven wished she would've only had two cups of coffee that day.
She wasn't even aware of what had happened until she was flat on her back, the sudden ringing in her ears drowning out the resounding blasts outside. Her eyes had involuntarily squeezed shut, and when they opened, the three shelves (and the ladder she had been standing on) came crashing down, landing heavily on top of her.
Immediately, pain surged through her left leg; she was sure something had broken the skin. The hot liquid spilling through her pants confirmed that suspicion. She tried to scream, tried to yell for help, but the little breath she was able to suck in didn't exactly allow for her voice to travel far. Not to mention the fact that she was at the least populated end of the base, in the middle of the night, during a series of deafening explosions. She gave up on shouting after coming to the realization that no one would hear her, even if they were standing directly outside the storage room doors.
To top it all off- as if disaster had a sense of irony- the defective light above her flickered momentarily, before giving out completely, leaving Raven to be crushed, in the dark, under the weight of three industrial shelves, packed to the brim with heavy equipment and hardware.
No one found her until the next morning, a shivering, bleeding mess, speaking only in delusions and hallucinations. Her memory didn't serve far past those moments.
When Raven came to, she was bruised, bandaged, and sore. Her leg was protesting loudly, and all she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep, and never feel the horrible sense of disorienting pain and confusion filling her mind, again.
"When's your next check up?" Octavia was asking, but Raven was already too consumed in her current thoughts to even process what the younger girl had said.
Raven had been healing well. Though her leg had little to no range of motion, the deep gash wrapping around her outer thigh was looking better with each dressing change. The two week anniversary of the bombs dropping was rapidly approaching, bringing the inhabitants of Arkadia closer and closer to being allowed outside. Extensive health checks were run on everyone, and anyone not in tip-top shape was deemed unsuitable for the diminishing levels of radiation.
By the looks of it, Raven would be healed just enough to qualify by the two-week mark.
That was, until day twelve rolled around.
Raven had felt sluggish as the day started off, as she always did since the accident. She spent her days in her room, which she shared with a handful of other kids her age, Octavia being one of them. Sinclair was forced to relieve Raven of her duties, considering most days, she was lucky to make it to the bathroom and back without collapsing.
"Soon as your better, consider yourself hired, Reyes." He had promised her, but the words felt empty to Raven.
Raven had limped to the medical bay for a dressing change, still feeling sluggish and shaky, both symptoms she contributed to the dropping temperatures outside. But when the nurses took the girl's temperature, they found her to be burning up, and when they removed the dressing, the wound underneath was a heap of puss and swollen, red-hot skin. An infection so nasty, they wouldn't even let her leave the medical bay, immediately pumping her full of antibiotics.
She asked how that would affect her eligibility to be cleared for going outside. They told her that an immune system couldn't fight infection and low levels of radiation at the same time, safely. They wanted to keep her inside until the two-week course of antibiotics had run their course.
And until her wounds were completely healed. Just to be on the safe side.
Raven hated the safe side.
She knew she was lucky. Knew she should be thankful. She was alive, after all. But nothing about the life she was living felt 'lucky.'
"Raven," Octavia was speaking again, loud enough to fully break Raven from the memories flashing through her mind.
"Next week. The appointment's next week." She recalled the question from earlier. Octavia wore a look of sympathy- the same look that everyone gave her- the look that made her want to tear her own hair out.
Raven hated the sudden turn their conversation had taken and forced herself to lighten the mood. "You heard it here first, folks. We've got the meds to cure your radiation. So if you notice that you can suddenly shoot spiderwebs from your fingers, bring yourself to Arkadia." She spoke into the CB radio. It was definitely not her best line, but it was enough to make Octavia laugh, again (and lose the annoying look on her face).
"Spiderman shoots spiderwebs through his wrists, not fingers." It was Raven's turn to laugh, and if her leg hadn't been so comfortably perched on top of her mound of pillows, Raven would have grabbed one and smacked the smaller girl with it.
Before she could respond with a witty comeback, voices from the hallway signaled that the other kids were back from their duties.
First through the door, were Monty and Jasper, two inseparable best friends that usually sat around all day like freeloaders until they were assigned jobs at the newly developed farm station. They carried trays of food with them, already snacking on the potato wedges and ketchup before they'd reached their cots.
Jasper, the taller, unruly-haired one stopped after taking one look at his cot, and turned around to face Raven.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want your diseases infecting my pillow." Shifting his tray to one hand, he swiftly tugged two pillows from under Raven's leg and tossed them on his and Monty's beds. Raven hissed in pain, but hurriedly neutralized her expression, not wanting to convey the terrible heat radiating through her thigh. She had to admit, the apathy was a welcome change.
"You guys remember Jasper and Monty, the stoner kids." Raven voiced to whoever was listening to her through the radio, if anyone.
After being fired from assisting Sinclair, Raven was desperate to do something- anything that would be helpful to the army base. An old, beat up CB radio ended up offering her some distraction from her current situation. A few minor tweaks later, and the the thing was working as good as new. Raven figured that advertising Arkadia might help someone in need of a place to stay after the bombs. Or at least give her someone (real or imaginary) to talk to while everyone else was busy doing actual, important jobs.
"Turn that damn thing off, Raven." Jasper grumbled through a mouthful of potato.
Raven wanted to argue, but decided it wasn't worth it.
"And, that's my cue. Reyes out."
Lexa's condition hadn't improved much over the next day, and while Clarke knew that, stomach bug or radiation sickness, getting better would take time, she still felt a pang of sadness every time she looked over to see the brunette was still a shivering mess under her pile of blankets.
Lexa spent most of the day sleeping, and the rest of the day barking commands at Clarke. While the blonde was happy to oblige, she would be lying if she said she didn't think Lexa was milking her illness a little. Clarke didn't complain, though, too worried to instigate an argument.
Clarke did enjoy having access to the food cabinet, and definitely used it to her advantage, sneaking extra scraps of food here and there. Lexa either didn't notice, or didn't care. Maybe both.
Even with Clarke's added luxuries, she found herself staring at the powered-off radio beside Lexa's bed as if it could offer something more to her. As if it held the key to them leaving the shelter. And it kinda did.
Lexa seemed to have no interest in using the device after hearing someone talking through it, which sounded a bit backwards to Clarke. The brunette had spent weeks trying to make some progress on it, but as soon as she did, the radio became old news, as if it had reverted back to the mass of scrap metal that Clarke always thought it to be.
But with each passing hour that Lexa spent with a fever (yes, Clarke checked the brunette's temperature that often, because it felt important to do so) was an hour that Clarke spent thinking of potential fixes for the girl's ailments.
If it was radiation, Clarke knew the only cure would have to be found on the outside, perhaps in a hospital or clinic. If it was just a virus, Lexa still needed to stay hydrated, and hydration was not a resource they had an overabundance of. An infection needed antibiotics, and the closest thing they had to medicine was a tube of disinfectant ointment (Clarke's little medical knowledge was enough to tell her that wouldn't be useful).
Basically, they needed to leave.
It went as far as two days of sickness before Clarke spoke up.
"I'm worried, Lexa." She looked over at the brunette, who was sitting up for what was probably the first time all day.
Lexa just stared back and flashed her best 'you think I didn't notice that already?' face. Clarke knew Lexa was also concerned, but also knew she would never show it.
"I'm being serious." Clarke mumbled, but found it hard to keep a straight face when looking at the girl's scowl.
Lexa's expression neutralized at Clarke's words, and the blonde assumed she was trying to hide her own emotions on the subject.
"I'm just sick." The brunette picked at her fingernails and avoided the blue-eyed gaze, her voice sounding small compared to her usual tone.
"Yeah, that's why I'm worried!" Clarke reiterated, steadily growing in volume.
"You know what I meant."
Clarke did know what she meant, but it didn't help her feel any less stressed about their situation. A part of the blonde wished that she was the one that had fallen sick. It felt unfair that Lexa had offered her shelter to Clarke and wouldn't be the one to live and see the outside ever again.
She forced herself not to think about the idea, because Lexa couldn't die. Clarke wouldn't let that happen.
"We need to leave this place."
Lexa was groaning and rolling her eyes before Clarke had even finished talking. It wasn't unexpected, considering Lexa seemed to have a strong aversion to any mention of leaving.
"We're not going to risk our health even more." Lexa meant to sound stern- Clarke could tell- but the girl's current weakness prevented it from sounding like anything other than a whine. Honestly, Clarke didn't mind being the more assertive one. It was a welcome change.
"Would you rather leave and take that chance, or die in here and do nothing?"
Clarke didn't mean to sound so blunt (and immediately regretted it when she saw the look of hurt that came to the brunette's face).
Someone had to say it.
"We don't need to have this conversation again." Lexa growled, slouching further down the wall as if she was trying to escape any further discussion.
"We do, because you're still not listening." If it hadn't been for the fact that Clarke was trying to be civil, she would have thrown her hands up in anger. She wondered how it was humanly possible for one girl to be so hard-headed.
"I've only been sick two days." Lexa's voice had diminished to barely above a whisper- so quiet, Clarke wasn't sure if she had even heard the girl correctly.
The blonde sighed and allowed her head to fall into her hands, using her palms to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. It was true. But in her defense, it felt like two years to Clarke. Time never seemed to pass quickly when she spent the day staring at her shoes, as if she could see them starting to waste away. She supposed two days wasn't that long.
"If you still have a fever in the morning, we have to do something." Clarke decided, trying to maintain her rigidness. Instead of hearing another argument from the brunette, she was met with silence. "Even if you just turn on that radio and find out if we have any options."
And thankfully- Clarke would have stood up and cheered if it had seemed appropriate- Lexa nodded solemnly.
But when Clarke woke up the next morning, she didn't have to check Lexa's vitals to know that the abnormally pale girl's condition hadn't changed, and with one pleading look from the set of especially blue eyes, the brunette was reaching for the radio and pushing the 'on' button.
Clarke couldn't contain the grin that tugged at her lips when she heard the sound of staticky white noise that erupted from the radio's speakers.
A/N: Lotsa new characters! Can you tell I'm a slut for character development? Not sure when you'll see more of these guys, buuut you will. Next chapters will be more clexa-centric so if you're feeling a little deprived after this chapter, know that the next few will be better.
As always, you're all wonderful and perfect and never fail to make me smile with all the support you give. Hope you all had the most amazing Valentines Days and if not, know I was loving you from afar, haha.
Let me know if my 'perspective change' risk paid off! Or if it was a complete flop. Either way, I'll enjoy the feedback. See you soon!