Chapter 3:
Clarke steeled herself against any conflicting emotions with her schedule. Miller—no longer Nathan because Nathan was too personal—was her top priority. She did owe him a little bit of her life. She brought him lunch, and not that disgusting stuff they try to pawn off on the patients when they've injured themselves either. An actual lunch. Miller seemed pleased with that, "Thanks princess." He laughed as he stuffed his face with pizza. "This is the best thing I've ever had."
"Sure it is." Clarke nodded, making herself comfortable in the chair. "They tell you when you can leave?"
"I figure after I eat this amazing lunch you've brought me, I'll sign myself out." Miller said, "You alright? You seem distracted."
Clarke shrugged, "Just tired."
"You know, the beds are lot more comfortable than those mattresses we had back home but I haven't slept good in days." He shrugged, "Except last night but that was due to drugs not because I could actually sleep." She'd never heard him talk so much in the entire time she'd been on earth. She decided not to call him out on calling the camp home because she really needed to listen to someone talk about stupid things like mattresses and pizza for a little bit.
She stayed with him for a little bit before she decided it was time they both did something else with their time. She promised to visit him tomorrow at his place to check up on his foot. He told her she didn't have to. Naturally, she insisted.
The next item on her list was something she'd been dreading for weeks. She was going to talk to Finn Collins. Except, talking to Finn was a little difficult. He'd been arrested for risking the lives of the mountain people during one of his reckless actions. Clarke hadn't been there for him and she regretted that. She walked through the familiar jail cell areas before meeting the guard. "I want to talk to Finn Collins." She said, "He's like the only real prisoner here."
The guard rolled his eyes, pointed towards a white door at the end of the hall and went back to his previous conversation with the blonde bimbo at the door. Clarke mumbled a thank you before heading down the hallway and opening the door. She looked around at the empty cells which seemed more guarded than the others…no they seemed like cages. She spotted him. He jumped up weakly, almost stumbling. "Finn?" She asked him, looking at his sickly figure. "Hey…what's wrong?"
"You shouldn't be here, Clarke." He said, "No one's allowed back here."
"The guard let me through." Clarke told him, "What's wrong? Are you sick?"
"Pois-"
"Hey!" Someone yelled, "You can't be back here! Who the hell let you in here, young lady?"
Clarke crossed her arms, "The guard." She said, motioning towards the door she walked in through. "Is he sick? Are you trying to help him?" She hadn't processed Finn's words yet…she wouldn't do that until much later.
"He's in quartine. It's not safe for you to be here." The woman said, "Please return to your designated areas."
"I'll see you later, Finn." Clarke promised him while the woman turned her shoulders away from him and pushed her out of the door. Clarke turned on her heel, "What the hell is wrong with him?"
"Please." She said, "That language is not fitting for a young lady like yourself."
Clarke huffed, "I don't give a fuck what you deem fitting for me to say? What is wrong with my friend?" She heard footsteps from behind her and she turned to meet Kane. Dammit…
"Clarke." Kane said, "Annabeth is right…you really should watch your mouth. Go on back to your friends." Clarke stomped away, hearing Kane saying something about. "I guess it's true what they say about not being able to stay away from prison once you're in…what a shame, her mother is really a good woman." Annabeth commented on his statement but Clarke didn't catch it.
What the hell is going on here?
She demanded to know what was going on, actually. And if Kane knew—dammit her mother had to know! She walked through the hallways that she rarely dared to go down while she searched for her mother. Usually, she was with Dr. Tsing but today was Sunday and Abby liked to be political on Sunday. She would be near the library or residential halls of the elitists. Her hands were balled up into fists when she turned the corner and ran directly into Bellamy. God, she didn't even have to look at him because she'd memorized the smell of him from her now least-favorite pillow.
She did, on the other hand, have to open her eyes to see who he was walking with. A girl…one she'd never seen. One she instantly hated because she deemed the girl prettier than her. "Where are you going?" Bellamy asked, something sparkling in her eyes.
"I'm looking for my mom." She said coldly, shoving through him and his new friend. She heard him whisper something to the girl and then she heard his footsteps behind her. "What?"
"Are we going to talk about last night or are we just going to pretend it didn't happen?"
"We're going to pretend a lot of things didn't happen." Clarke said, "Last night being one of them."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Bellamy said, "What other things are we going to forget?"
"Oh…" Clarke said bitterly, "I forgot. Your mind has already erased the fact that we can't trust anyone." She didn't think she sounded paranoid. He did.
He looked at her with a confused expression, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Finn." She said flatly, not paying attention to his reaction at all. "I just visited him and—I have to talk to my mom. I'm sorry, I can't do this." She put her hands in the air before heading off down the hallway again. This time she didn't hear his footsteps behind her.
She was getting used to not hearing his footsteps behind her when she'd grown accustomed to it. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes once more—not for a lover, but for a partner. She missed that and it killed her. She missed everything—everything that was supposed to be horrible for her. She took in a sharp breath before she barged into the library. She demanded attention.
She demanded the attention a leader deserved and honestly, that didn't go over too well.