Hey everyone! So sorry it has taken me so long to upload this chapter. I got a new job and it has been taking up a lot of my time, but this chapter is a bit longer than the others so I hope it makes up for the delay!

So here's chapter 4, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the 100, all I own is an imaginative mind!

Chapter 4

A shrill scream broke through the calm of the night like a bullet exploding from the barrel of a gun, ricocheting off the trees and sending chills down the spines of all that could hear it. The animals fled in fear, sensing the impending peril that lay in wait within the darkness, and the Commander of the twelve clans immediately stiffened, her stomach plunging with dread.

Lexa stood overlooking the camp, watching proudly at the sight of her people working together to help the injured recover from the war against Mount Weather. The camp was mostly quiet now that everyone had settled down to sleep, but even with the patrol scouting the area, the niggling in Lexa's stomach refused to allow her to rest.

Even from a distance, somehow she knew that the screams belonged to Clarke, and her heart lurched painfully at the sound. With a sigh, she leaned her head back against the tree and tried to force away the uncomfortable niggling of nerves in the pit of her stomach. Every inch of her urged to jump on her horse and race towards the sky girl, but something kept Lexa rooted to the spot, a paralyzing fear that she had never felt before.

Lexa swallowed thickly and shifted, straightening her spine as she tried to relax. It was natural to feel this way after a war, was it not? For years, the Mountain Men had terrorized her people, inducing them to live in fear of their brutal and barbaric ways. It would take some time for that fear to dissipate. Even with the Mountain defeated, she would always have enemies; there would always be other dangers. She was the Commander; she could not afford to be careless.

No, that's not what it was. The hairs on the back of Lexa's neck quivered and stood on end, and she sighed. She had been to war many times, but never had she felt like this before or after a battle. In fact, she had never once felt this awful in her entire life.

Lexa curled a hand around the smooth hilt of her dagger, gripping it tightly for comfort. Forest green eyes scanned the trees for any sign of danger, but only the sight of absolute darkness greeted her.

No wind whispered through the trees. No animals scurried within the night. All she could hear was the crackling of the campfire.

Something was terribly wrong.

A twig snapped in the distance and Lexa flew to her feet, dagger at the ready. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she remained completely still, blending in with the darkness as she focused her sight in the direction of where the sound came from, preparing to strike.

Nothing moved. The forest was still.

Lexa sheathed her dagger with a scowl. Get it together, she told herself angrily as she settled back against the tree. This is not the time to allow paranoia to get the best of you.

Except she could not shake the feeling that something was not right, it went deeper than her concern for her people and even Clarke. It was more than just a disturbed thought, or the unsettled aftermath of the war. Something was stirring within the night, something familiar, yet she could not put her finger on what.

The Commander stared up at the trees. She knew every inch of the forest. Every slope, every tree and every glade were familiar, and had provided herself and her people with food, clothing, weapons, shelter, safety and advantages against their enemies. The forest has been just as much of a part of Lexa as her own heart, just as it was for every Trikru. It was home.

That was how she knew that something was not right, within the forest and within herself.

Lexa was sixteen summers old when the Commander's spirit joined with her own, and for the last five summers, she had to learn to live without the privacy of her own thoughts and emotions. The thoughts, memories and experiences of the previous Commander's constantly echoed throughout her being. They were forever there, feeding her the strength when she was afraid, encouraging her when she was unsure of a decision. Lexa's mind was never silent, and it required a long time for her to adjust to never being truly alone.

Now, the Commander's spirit was distant, silent, and anxious, making Lexa feel more on edge than she would ever care to admit. She needed guidance and assurance, now more than ever.

With a trembling breath, she shut her eyes and allowed her head to reach out into the darkness. There were many skills and abilities that she had gained since becoming to Commander including enhanced sight, hearing, speed and endurance. This particular ability was dangerous, and she only practised it when it was utterly necessary.

She cast every thought and emotion away as her mind continued to venture further into the depth of the shadows, except for one. Her breathing slowed, her body relaxed as her mind filled with the memories and images of one person, and her spirit reached out towards it.

As her spirit detached itself, the weight of her physical body slowly ebbed away until she was as light and swift as the wind. She looked down upon the sight of her body propped up against the tree, almost as if she were merely sleeping.

"I have been waiting for you, Lexa."

Lexa's eyes snapped up towards the sound of the familiar voice that made her heartache, and the sight of a tall, strong woman with dark blonde hair and fierce, brown eyes greeted her. The woman watched her closely with a grin, showing more comfort and familiarity than anybody else would ever dare to display in the presence of their Heda. Lexa's heart clenched painfully as she stared at the spirit of her friend, mentor, and the closest thing that she had to a sister.

"Anya…" she breathed out.

Anya's grin saddened ever so slightly, but did not falter. "It is good to see you, kid."

Lexa swallowed thickly, forcing down the wave of emotion that had taken shape inside her throat. "I would have come sooner, but…"

Anya shook her head, cutting her off. "You are Heda; you had a war and an alliance to focus on. I understand."

The words should have comforted her, but instead they only made Lexa's guilt intensify. A warrior does not grieve for those who they have lost until after the battle, that was their way. She had refused to allow herself to even so much as think of Anya after she learned of her death, and it suddenly hit her like a stab to the chest of just how much she missed her.

"Death is not the end, Lexa, you know this," Anya said softly, as if sensing her train of thought.

The words broke Lexa out of her stupor and she mentally shook herself; this was not the time to mourn. "The Mountain has fallen," she said, the Commander's mask falling back into place, "but my spirit is restless. Something does not feel right, Anya. I fear that something worse has risen in place of the Maunon."

"Yes, I feel it too," she replied, turning her gaze away. "Something changed in the spirit world after the sky girl took down the Mountain."

Fear bloomed in Lexa's chest at the mention of Clarke and her hands curled into the fists. "Tell me what happened."

"Clarke killed hundreds of innocent people to save her own. That kind of sacrifice does not come without a price."

Lexa gritted her teeth. It was just as she feared. Clarke had proved many times that she was capable of doing just about anything whenever it came to the safety of her people; it was what made her a truly great and powerful leader, but it was only a matter of time until she was forced to do something that she would never be able to live with. Clarke was clever, strategic, but foolishly rash when her emotions got the better of her. She did not take a moment to consider the consequences; she did not weigh up the risks. Her heart ruled her; she simply accepted the weight of every death as her price to pay, and she would carry it alone even if it crushed her into the ground, just so that no one else would have to. It was in her nature to try to fix everything for everyone, but nobody had taught her how to deal with the aftermath.

"I pushed her to this," Lexa mumbled, casting her eyes towards the ground.

Anya stepped forward and gripped her former Second's shoulders. "I know you care about her, Lexa, but you are responsible for your people, just as Clarke is for hers. You know better than to question your choices."

Lexa reached up and grabbed hold of the hand on her shoulder, allowing herself to feel comforted by the touch of the woman who practically raised her, even if it was only momentarily. Entering the spirit world was a dangerous skill, one that she could not often indulge in. It could be a while until she was able to visit her once more.

"Is Clarke in danger?" she asked, finally voicing the one thing that she desperately needed to know.

Anya released her grasp and stepped backward, looking hesitant as she stated, "I don't know if she's in danger, or if she is the danger."

Lexa almost winced at the sick feeling that churned in her gut. "What do you believe I should do?" Normally she would not ask anybody for advice. She was the Commander; her guidance came from within, not from her warriors, whether they were dead or not, but this was different. Anya had been guiding her long before she became Heda; there was nobody who she trusted more to help in a moment of uncertainty.

"If she is a risk to our people, then she must be put down," Anya replied, unaware of the devastating blow that her words delivered to Lexa's heart.

She averted her eyes towards the ground, knowing that Anya would be able to read her instantly. Abandoning Clarke at Mount Weather was hard enough, killing or even hurting her was not an option.

When did this become so difficult? She learned the hard way after Costia that the only way to be a good leader was by not having any weaknesses. Showing that she did not care was the only way to ensure the safety of the people that she did care for, and make the hard decisions as a leader, like killing Gustus. It kept her people in line and ensured their loyalty, and they could live in the safety of knowing that they had a strong leader who would always make the best choices for them.

How could one person, who should rightfully be her enemy, turn everything upside down?

Before she could respond, Anya suddenly grabbed Lexa's arm again and she looked up in surprise. "But only if you cannot save her," she said, her voice deadly serious. "Clarke sees her sacrifice as a crime. The weight of her actions has darkened her spirit. She is vulnerable, Lexa. You must go to her."

Anya's words lifted Lexa's spirits, but only for a moment. "I betrayed the alliance. Clarke will never trust me again, nor will she want my help."

"She will have no choice if she wants to survive what is coming for her."

This piqued Lexa's curiosity. "Do you know what it is?"

Anya shook her head. "No, but I can feel its darkness." She shuddered, as if the thought alone was enough to worry her. "You must find her before it does."

"Anya, I need you to go to her," she said urgently. "Find out where she is and where she is going. I will keep a part of myself open to the spirit world so that you can come through."

"Sha, Heda. Be careful, I sense that everything is about to change."

Anya gave her shoulder one last squeeze and disappeared within the blink of an eye, leaving Lexa alone in the darkness with a stomach full of nerves and a heavy heart. She turned back towards the motionless form of her body. She needed to prepare for Anya's return.

…

"Clarke! Clarke, wake up!" Octavia cried, desperately holding onto the thrashing, screaming blonde. Her heart pounded against her ribcage frantically, dread pooling in her stomach as wide, terrified eyes darted around uncertainly.

What was she supposed to do? She had been attempting to wake Clarke for nearly ten minutes with no luck, and had even resorted to shaking and slapping the distressed girl. The sound of Clarke's shrieks ringing through the night made Octavia's blood run cold; they were unlike anything that she had ever heard before. She could not even begin to imagine what Clarke was seeing behind closed eyes, but she was worried sick with fear. All that she could do was hold onto the blonde tightly to offer as much comfort as possible, though it seemed to have no effect.

"Come on, Clarke," Octavia whispered. "You need to wake up before we have the entire Trikru army come down upon us."

She glanced around nervously, awaiting the moment a dark figure of a warrior burst out from within the trees. If she was stronger and if it was not pitch black, she would carry Clarke to somewhere far away, but it was no use. The forest was dangerous enough during the day, even more so during the night. Besides, Clarke's screams would alert anyone to their location, no matter where they went.

Octavia ripped her sword from its sheath. If something were to come then she would simply have to protect Clarke as best as she possibly could.

But just as quickly as it all started, Clarke suddenly went limp and her screams fell quiet, leaving the forest in deafening silence.

"Clarke?" Octavia called out, gently giving the girl a shake. "Shit, Clarke, don't do this to me."

She curled a hand around Clarke's neck to feel for a pulse, but before she even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief when she felt the gentle throbbing beneath her fingertips, Clarke's hand shot up and latched onto Octavia's wrist with a painfully tight grip.

"Clarke, let go! It's me!"

How on earth was she this strong?

Octavia was desperately trying to pry her wrist free when Clarke's eyes suddenly snapped open, and she inhaled sharply at what she saw.

Clarke's eyes were completely black. As black as night.

It all happened so fast that she did not have a chance to try to stop it when Clarke suddenly bolted upright, ripping out of her hold as she twisted around, knocking the sword from Octavia's grip before slamming her into the cold, hard ground. The force knocked the air from Octavia's lungs, leaving her too dazed to stop Clarke as she straddled her chest, kneeling on her arms as she wrapped her hands around Octavia's throat, baring her teeth like an enraged animal.

Octavia spluttered and thrashed beneath Clarke, her throat screaming as it was crushed beneath the blonde's iron grip and her lungs burned as they desperately fought for air. She tried to focus on Clarke's face, hoping to catch even the smallest glimpse of the girl that she knew, but only found a burning hatred in a never-ending sea of black.

"Clarke, please," Octavia wheezed, trying to get through to the blonde as the world around her began to spin.

All of a sudden, Clarke's head snapped up and the darkness faded from her eyes as she gasped. Her grip faltered, and Octavia quickly seized the opportunity, mustering every ounce of her remaining strength to throw the girl off her. Octavia quickly scrambled away, coughing violently as she tried to pull in as much oxygen to her deprived lungs and dove towards her sword, but as she whirled around with the weapon held out in front of her to fend off another attack, she realised that Clarke had not moved. In fact, the blonde was leaning back on her elbows and looking around with wide, confused eyes. When they finally landed on Octavia, she breathed out a heavy breath and lowered her swords.

Clarke's eyes were as light and blue as a morning sky.

"Octavia, what's going on?" she asked, sounding more like an innocent child than a raging psychopath who just tried to kill her.

Octavia winced as she reached up to rub her throat before standing up, there would definitely be a bruise by the morning. "I was hoping that you could tell me," she croaked, "considering that you just tried to kill me."

"What?" she exclaimed, pushing herself up. "No, Octavia, why would I…"

She tried to approach the younger girl, but Octavia lifted her sword defensively to ward her off, only feeling the slightest bit guilty at the hurt look that flashed across the blonde's face.

Clarke held up her hands and swallowed as she took a step back, putting a safe amount of distance between the two. "O, I swear that I would never hurt you. Please, you have to believe me!"

Octavia hesitated at the look in Clarke's eyes and the sincerity of her words. But after what just happened, could she really trust her? Sure, Clarke seemed to be back to her normal self, but Octavia could not forget what just happened, or what she saw.

Those eyes… Octavia shuddered at the image of the burning hatred that she saw within the blackness. How was it even possible?

She looked up at the girl who she considered as her friend despite everything they had been through together. Clarke was capable of many things; she had proven that at TonDC and Mount Weather, but she was still a good person. She was not capable of that kind of hatred.

Octavia realized that what she saw was not Clarke, but if that was the case, then who, or what was it? She eyed the blonde warily. She would have to be on her guard until she figured it out.

"Maybe not," she said as she lowered her sword, "but I don't think you're fully in control of yourself, Clarke."

Clarke shook her head, causing a few strands of blonde hair to fall in her face. "What are you talking about?"

Should I tell her about the black eyes? Octavia wondered, but quickly decided against it. She could not even begin to explain to herself, let alone anybody else. Clarke would not understand, she would either think that she was crazy or say that it was just a trick of the light.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Clarke paused and seemed to think about it, a haunted look crossed over her face. "Nothing, I was trying to sleep and when I woke up, you were holding your sword up at me."

Clarke was never very good at lying so Octavia knew right away that she was not telling the truth, which did not fill her with confidence, but she decided to play along. "I was holding my sword up at you because you were screaming like a mad woman so I tried to wake you up, then you flipped out and tried strangling me to death."

The haunted expression never fell from Clarke's face as she moved to sit down. "O, I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything," she said in a small voice as she pulled her knees up to her chest. "Why can't I remember?"

Octavia wanted to help, but how could she? She was barely holding it together herself, surviving was all that she could focus on these days, but seeing Clarke fall apart when she had always been strong, even in the most difficult times, was frightening.

She sighed. "I don't know, Clarke, but we'll figure it out. You should get some rest; we have a long journey to Mount Weather tomorrow."

Clarke quickly shook her head and pushed herself up from the ground. "No, I've already slept so I'll take watch."

Octavia hesitated, a part of her wanted to tell Clarke that she would not feel safe after what just happened, but she could not bring herself to make the distraught blonde feel any worse, so she simply nodded and settled down by the fire as Clarke wandered off through the trees to take watch.

The forest fell quiet once more as she attempted to relax in the warmth of the orange glow, keeping her sword close, just in case.

…

Clarke rammed her fists into her temples, pressing so hard that she was certain her skull would cave in. She squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth and slammed her head back against the tree, causing stars to explode behind her eyes, but the pain did not help. Why would it not stop?

Ever since she came to, it was as though there was a presence constantly screaming within her mind, demanding for attention. She felt it within the dream as she watched herself kill Lexa, as she turned towards herself with cold eyes and called her something, something that she did not understand, but could not shake.

Wanheda.

Clarke shivered with fear and quickly pulled her handgun from its holster. Everything felt wrong, from the air in her lungs, the breeze on her skin to the cold metal of the gun pressing into her hand. Not to mention the fact that she could not remember attacking Octavia!

Tears welled up in Clarke's eyes and she swallowed harshly. The way that Octavia looked at her was horrible, as if she did not even recognise her. They had been through so much together, but they were finally on their way to repairing their damaged friendship, even if it was a slow process. All they had now was each other, but now, that was ruined. If Octavia did not trust her before, then she certainly would not now.

The screaming in her head intensified, and Clarke quickly grabbed onto another branch to keep from falling as her head violently as her head spun. She panted raggedly, trying to calm the wave of nausea that suddenly surged through her.

What is happening to me? She whimpered internally.

She could not take much more of this. Sitting around, waiting for the morning to come before they could travel was not helping matters; it was giving too much time for her mind to wander into unsafe territories. She needed something to focus on. Having a plan and taking action was what always kept her going. Patience was not Clarke's strong suit and right now, it was her enemy. It was time to move.

Nodding to herself, Clarke shoved the gun into its holster and carefully made her way back down the tree. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, Clarke intended on heading to the camp to wake Octavia and convince her that they should start their journey to Mount Weather, regardless of it being dark and dangerous. However, as Clarke turned in its direction, a dark figure suddenly appeared before her.

Anya.

"Oh my god," Clarke cried out in surprise and leapt back.

Her foot slipped on a tree root and she fell to the ground with an ungraceful thud. In any other situation, she likely would have been embarrassed, but her brain froze as she gazed upwards at the dead warrior.

"No," she whispered in disbelief. "You're dead, I watched you die!"

Strangely, the grounder woman cocked her head to the side and fixed Clarke with a frown. "You can see me?"

Anya's voice cut straight through Clarke and her heart throbbed with guilt. So many people, so many good people were dead because of her. She could not bear it anymore.

Clarke buried her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. "You're not real," she whimpered. "You're not real. Please, just leave me alone!"

She mumbled the words repeatedly until her heart rate dropped back down to a steady pace and her body stopped trembling as violently. Clarke slowly lifted her head and heaved a sigh of relief when she found that she was alone. Unsteadily, she forced herself back up onto her feet and quickly made her way back towards the camp. Octavia immediately sat up when she appeared through the brush, clenching her sword.

"What's wrong?"

"I know it's not safe to travel at night, but I don't feel safe here. We need to go."

Octavia opened her mouth as though she was about to protest, but finally she closed it and just nodded instead.

"Fine, but only for a couple of hours and you must follow my lead."

Clarke agreed and waited as Octavia set about making torches. She grew more impatient and anxious by the minute, but Octavia insisted that they were not leaving unless they could at least see where they were going, so she succumbed. As soon as she was done, Octavia handed one of the burning branches to Clarke with the hint of a smirk on her face.

"Let's go," she said, kicking out the campfire.

Despite her natural instinct to lead, Clarke followed Octavia without protest. They travelled in silence, both unable to think of what to say after earlier occurrences, but also to not bring any unwanted attention to themselves. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but as the looming shadows created by their flaming torches began to morph into familiar faces that Clarke never wanted to see again, it was all she could do to keep her head down and focus on anything besides her own thoughts.

It was going to be a long journey.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have any questions, you can find me on tumblr as kairim. Follow me and hit me up with some questions.

Until next time!