July through September 1864

The boy did not speak for the first month he was with them. When Clarke and Lexa returned to her home with the boy in tow, there was a question written in Raven's eyes, but when Clarke shook her head, she did not ask.

Clarke filled her in on his origins later as the boy slept.

He slept and ate little for days. Clarke heard him awaken in the night, crying. She would bring a bowl of water and wet cloth, wiping his face, careful not to startle him. The first night he had awoken, she had tried comforting him by holding him, only for him to pull away and curl into himself, as if afraid.

It took some talking to Lexa for Clarke to realize she wasn't what the boy was afraid of.

She cared for him, steadily until one night, he opened up about the attack.

"They were watching us." He finally whispered one night as Clarke tended to him.

Clarke didn't speak, she only listened. She was willing to wait as long as he needed.

"Pa had a bad feeling that night at camp. He had my brothers double up on watch. I thought it was weird but then, sometimes he gets a feeling, in his gut." Aden continued. "Ma told him he was being paranoid, that we should all get some rest, we still had more road ahead of us."

He closed his eyes.

"I was laying down to sleep when they attacked. I sleep, -slept,- under the wagon, because ma and pa said it was safer."

A tear rolled down his cheek. Clarke carefully wiped it. He reached up and held onto her hand.

"I heard the gunshots, they got my brothers first. My pa managed to shoot back. I saw my ma-," His voice hitched.

'They had her. One of them held her with a knife. She fell and I barely hear her say for me to get out of there. They didn't know I was there. They were raiding our supplies."

Clarke swiped her thumb over his cheek. He swallowed. He needed this.

"I crawled out while they were distracted, hid." Aden's face screwed up with pain. "They were there until mornin'."

Tear after tear slid down his cheek.

"I can still hear my ma's screams."

Dread pooled in Clarke's stomach. They had arrived the next day, hearing gunshots, seeing fire.

"Th-they-," Clarke shook her head. She wiped Aden's tears with the cloth. She had a feeling she knew what happened next, Lexa had told her she had seen bodies burning in and around the wagon. They had killed and raided Aden's family, used Aden's mother, shot her, then burned the bodies.

She continued to wipe at his tears as he closed his eyes. He fell asleep, crying.

Clarke resolved to care for him. Raven had been asking for weeks what they were planning to do, he was an extra mouth and currently did not work.

She would raise him, teach him to farm, he could tend to the ranch with them.

She would help him heal.

Raven was all too happy for the extra hand. When Clarke told Raven her plan to have him begin working with them, Raven marched right into Clarke's room with another serving of their soupy dinner that night, and handed him the bowl.

"Eat up and rest up. Tomorrow you start your lessons in ranching!" Raven told him. She turned away and marched out as quickly as she did in.

Aden took to the life well. He worked hard with Clarke in the fields and on days when he had to learn about sheep, he seemed to enjoy the animals.

Bellamy's dog, Fish took right to him, the boy and the dog could be seen with the sheep sometimes. At others, Clarke found him playing, rolling in the dirt with dog.

Lexa had taken to a hunt. She didn't say, but Clarke had heard in town about a group of bandits that were raiding caravans moving west. Lexa's visits were brief, sometimes only long enough for a meal and a few shared kisses within their home.

It was driving Clarke mad.

Aden didn't gather the courage to speak to Lexa until his second month. He was intimidated, but also in awe of her stoic manner, but he also saw the way she and Clarke looked at one another. It was like his ma and pa. It comforted him in a way.

When he did finally speak to Lexa it was because of her work. He had been watching and listening. He knew she was scout. She was searching for a group of bandits. The same that had killed his family.

"One had a scar." He whispered to Lexa. Lexa had come to sit beside him on the porch as he gazed at the stars. It was something his pa would do with him, watch stars until he told him they should sleep.

"He was bald. There was a scar over his right eye." He remembered. "I think he was the leader. He kept giving orders like one."

Lexa gripped his shoulder. He didn't realize it, but he was crying.

He looked up at her.

"Please kill them." His whisper was small but pleading.

"I don't know if I can have peace until I know he is gone."

Lexa nodded. She pulled the boy in. Aden didn't pull away as she held him as he cried. Clarke watched the two of them, knowingly.

Lexa stayed that night. They laid quilts and blankets on the floor in the living room for Aden to sleep on.

"Guess we will have to see about building him a room." Clarke sighed.

The made quiet aching love. The kind two lovers make when they have missed the contact, the feel of having the other wrapped around them. They did not let go of one another as they rubbed and pressed lips to mouth, breast, cheekbone, neck, wherever they could reach without pulling away from one another completely. Even as Lexa moved down to taste Clarke, she was pulled back up.

"I just need you like this right now." Clarke pleaded. The kiss they shared was slow, savoring, and full of promise.

When they slept, they were so tightly wound in one another that as they were awoken by the sounds of Aden having another nightmare, they had to untangle in order to get to him. They pulled on shirts as they rushed to the boy's side.

Aden struggled and cried in his sleep. It was Lexa who woke him, reaching out to touch him. He started. Seeing Clarke, he dived into her arms for the first time, burying his face into her chest.

With Lexa's help, Clarke soothed him until he slept again. They watched him with sad eyes as he slept.

"He is so young to have seen what he has seen." Clarke whispered to Lexa. Lexa wrapped around her.

"I just wish we could take away his nightmares somehow."

Lexa kissed the back of Clarke's neck.

"We would have to take away his bad memories. The only thing we can do is teach him to make happy ones."

The next morning, Lexa began to teach Aden how to use a bow and arrow.

"It is probably a good idea to teach him how to hunt." Clarke watched as Lexa brought him through the steps of fixing his stance and holding a bow.

"You won't shoot until we have made you a bow." Lexa promised him. Clarke saw the way his eyes lit up.

It would be another month before he learned to make a bow. With Lexa's work as a scout, she was kept very busy. Each time she showed up at the ranch, Clarke would wave him off as Lexa took charge of him. They would take a ride off into the woods on horseback.

He was proud once he held a bow in his hands. Lex wouldn't let him shoot yet, but he Clarke caught him practicing his stance in the evenings.

It was one such evening when Lexa appeared, her arm wrapped up in bandages, that Aden's nightmares were laid to rest.

Lexa held his eyes. She seemed to think something over. She pulled something out of her belt purse and handed it to him.

Aden turned over medallion his father used to wear in his hands. He knew what it meant. He felt relief, grief, and exhaustion wash over him.

"Thank you." Is all he managed to get out before he was rushing over to both Clarke and Lexa and hugging them.

They both got him into bed once he fell asleep, clutching the medallion tightly in his hand. Lexa carefully pried it from him, and unclasped it. Clarke lifted his head with care as Lexa slipped the necklace around his neck. The boy slept on as Lexa placed the medallion on his chest and laid his hand over it. His hand clutched it in his sleep.

"He now has something else to remind him of his past instead of bad memories and dreams." Lexa remarked quietly.

They went to Clarke's room.

Clarke ran fingers down the bandage on Lexa's arm.

"Did they do that to you?"

Lexa shrugged.

"He had a gun. He got a good shot in."

Clarke shook her head.

"I worry about you." She laid her head against Lexa's shoulder.

"I love you, the thought of losing you-," Clarke didn't finish that sentence.

Lexa hummed.

She couldn't stand the thought of losing Clarke either.

"This is my work Clarke. I- I don't know if I am always going to make it home." Lexa's heart nearly broke at the thought.

"Promise me, Lexa, swear to me, that you'll make it home. I- I can't know you're out there risking your life, without knowing you'll come back to me." Clarke shuddered against her. Lexa could feel the wetness through her shirt. Hear the hoarseness in Clarke's voice.

She hesitated. It was her job to risk herself. But she loved Clarke so much. She knew she would do anything to return to her. She would crawl on hands and knees to get back to her.

"I swear, I promise Clarke, I will return home to you." Lexa whispered into her hair.