Warnings for self-loathing, trauma, pedophilia, child rape and genocide.
Chapter 7: The journal
Honestly? Feeling the massive weight of the shield against her, Clarke wasn't sure how she was holding it up at the time being, with only one hand, aiming the gun she had in the other.
Lincoln had remained with Clarke, but Clarke saw several of the other Outsiders who had fled, near the trees, looking at her from where they stood and she could see the fear and awe in their eyes as they regarded her.
Who did they think she was? She had just pulled a lever. That didn't make her some great warrior or anything. It just meant that she respected Maya's last wishes.
Lincoln eyed the shield that Clarke was carrying and asked, curious, "How are you able to hold that? That looks heavy."
Clarke looked to the shield she was holding up.
You know…she wasn't really sure how. She wasn't that strong a person, she didn't think. And if this shield was made of the metal that Dante claimed it was made out of? Then shouldn't it be tipping her over and collapsing on her, keeping her pinned to the floor?
Curiously, Lincoln asked, stepping forward, "Could I?"
Clarke nodded, remembering that she had decided to trust him more than any Outsider.
Lincoln picked up the shield out of her hand, and frowned, and he let out a muffled grunt.
Clarke's eyes widened, watching him.
He was taller than her, and most likely had more muscles than she did, but even so? The shield was clearly difficult for him to handle.
She stared. If he was having trouble holding up the shield, then how was he able to do it? She was only ten years old.
The question she was distracted from, when she heard the sounds of people yelling and running. She looked at where the sounds were coming from, and saw the Outsiders that had been staring at her, moving out of the way, as a huge shape descended from the sky and lowered down onto the ground.
Clarke's eyes widened.
The Ark! The Ark was here.
Clarke's teeth clenched.
That meant that her mother was here.
Her mother, who had been the reason that her father had been executed.
Clarke didn't want to believe that horrible guard, Bellamy Blake. But she couldn't think of any other explanation.
Her mother had gotten her father killed. She was sure of it now.
Clarke felt rage, such rage for her mother.
But then, Clarke was equally as horrible, wasn't she? She had just killed an entire civilization.
Still, if Clarke could get away with it, she would rather not have anything to do with the treacherous woman that was her mother.
She wanted her and her dad and Wells and Callie to get away from Abby and that was that. But could she get her father to do that? To leave Abby?
Probably not.
Her father was such a good man. And he probably felt more compassion for Abby than she deserved.
Clarke heard a grunt from Lincoln and she looked back to him, watching as he struggled to hoist up the shield.
He said, face scrunched up in frustration, "Well, I guess you'll carry this, not me. And I can take you to meet our Heda, and you can explain that your people mean no harm."
Clarke almost laughed at Lincoln struggling with the shield.
But she thought about what he just said. What did "Heda" mean? She had heard "Wanheda" and had no idea what that meant.
And she thought over what Lincoln had said about her people. That she could explain that her people meant no harm.
But here was the thing; Clarke wasn't sure that her people meant no harm to the people on the ground.
Or anyway, Clarke had no idea if Thelonius Jaha, Marcus Kane or even her mother, Abby Griffin meant no harm.
Still, Clarke chose to go with the safe thing to say. She asked, "What does 'Heda' mean, Lincoln?"
Lincoln glanced at her, startled, then said, sounding like he didn't understand Clarke's question, even if he was answering her, "Our 'Heda,' is our leader. Our commander."
Clarke nodded. "I see," she said. "Heda" meant basically, the tribes' "Chancellor."
Alright, that was good to know.
Now that made sense why Lincoln wanted to bring her to this commander. She then thought about the word, "commander."
"Lincoln," Clarke said, "What does the word, 'Wanheda' mean?"
Lincoln froze and didn't answer for several seconds and Clarke worried that he wouldn't answer.
Then Lincoln looked at Clarke, almost sympathetically as he said, "Klark, 'Wanheda' means 'Commander of Death.' Or 'Death Commander.'"
Clarke stepped back, feeling that answer, actually feeling it, hit her. Hit her like someone kicked her right in the face.
The Commander of Death? Her?
Because of what she had done to the Mountain Men?
Clarke swallowed. She thought she might throw up as she understood the implications of Lincoln's words.
She would be remembered for the rest of her life, shit, maybe for the rest of this civilization, as a mass murderer for what she had done.
Clarke felt coldness begin to spark across her skin, remembering the way that those other Outsiders had looked at her when they had called her "Wanheda." They had celebrated her! They had praised her!
Clarke felt bile begin to rise in her throat.
These people were going to celebrate her for centuries to come, because she was a mass murderer.
Clarke wasn't the best student in class. She knew a lot of other kids thought of her as a "suck up" because she actually liked learning and was happy to answer questions in class. But she knew enough about history to know that there were always heroes in every culture. But a lot of those heroes? Had committed great atrocities.
One person who went to a country to commit mass murder, was championed as a savior in their own country, while being doom to the country they attacked.
A soldier from one army could be crowned a hero for invading an enemy city and butchering all the women and children.
There was a saying that history was written by the victors. But it didn't change that it didn't matter how long it took, the atrocities of the past came to light, one way or another. All anyone had to do, was look up Christopher Columbus and see how well he held up centuries later, and realize how much of a horrid mass murdering and raping pig he was, and go ahead and keep telling yourself that the truth about the "victors" never came out.
Clarke's daddy, Jake Griffin, had even told her what sort of person Christopher Columbus was.
He had omitted certain horrifying details, so as not to traumatize his daughter, but he had made it obvious to his child, that Christopher Columbus had been a monster and never to be celebrated as anything.
It didn't matter if the people of the tribes saw Clarke as a hero right now. Clarke knew that it didn't matter how long it would take. She would be remembered as a mass murder one day, and that would be all she would be remembered as, from that day forward.
She could only hope that she would die before that happened so that she didn't have to witness it happen.
She tried not to snort, snickering sadly.
But she deserved to witness it happen, right? She deserved to be treated as a mass murderer.
"Klark?" Lincoln asked, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Clarke lied, nodding to him, "Let's go. Give me the shield."
Lincoln hesitated, then handed Clarke the shield and she quietly thanked him.
She again pondered how she could be carrying the shield. She could feel its weight, but she still was able to heave it up, unlike Lincoln, from what she had seen? Barely was able to hold it up.
She held onto the gun and onto the shield as she said, looking at Lincoln, her apparent new ally and friend, "If this is the only way to give my people a safe way of staying on the ground without anyone attacking them? Then fine, take me to see your commander. Do I just call her 'commander?'"
Lincoln nodded. "Yes," he said, "That perhaps would be best. 'Heda' is also considered very respectable. It's the same as 'commander' only it's addressing her in our own way. Her name, from what I understand, is 'Korta.' It's considered forbidden, however, for anyone to address her in public by her name, as it is considered forbidden to address any commander by their actual name."
"Alright," Clarke said, understanding. That made sense. There were "faux pas" in any culture. This apparently was one of those in the culture of the tribes of Outsiders.
Then again, Clarke supposed she couldn't call them "Outsiders" anymore, right?
The Mountain Men were dead. And Clarke was going out of the mountain, to speak with the leader of all the tribes.
She hoped that this worked.
The Ark came down.
And with it? New beginnings for everyone onboard.
However, none so much was it a new beginning for, except for Jake Griffin, Wells Jaha and Callie Cartwig, who had watched as Jake Griffin had sent out the message throughout the Ark. A message consisting of the reason why Clarke Griffin, his daughter was sent down to the ground, and why Thelonius Jaha was able to use him against Clarke.
And that Thelonius Jaha had kept the secret of the Ark's condition a secret.
And as Wells Jaha had predicted? There was chaos, as a result.
Or rather, chaos in a way that Thelonius Jaha hadn't liked.
The masses of crowds stood before Thelonius Jaha and accused him of putting the people in danger, by not telling them what was going on.
And as Wells Jaha predicted? Jake Griffin was suddenly seen as a champion of the people.
This was good news for all three Jake, Wells and Callie, as they were going to use the people who supported them, to get away from Thelonius Jaha, Abby Griffin and Marcus Kane. Not to mention away from anyone that supported those three council members.
And they would take Clarke with them, when they had the chance.
When Jake, Wells and Callie watched as the masses of people forced Thelonius, Marcus and Abby into cells, locking them in, Jake felt a vindictive satisfaction that he knew to be uncharacteristic of himself.
He needed Clarke safe. And Clarke would not be safe while Abby and Thelonius and Kane were out and about.
Two guards came before him then, both of them saluting to him. Jake identified them as "Antonio Savina" and "Bellamy Blake."
Jake had an uncomfortable feeling about Bellamy. It was just one of those feelings that made you creeped out about someone. But he wasn't sure how much of that was his paranoia or if there was actually something wrong with the guard or not.
However, he didn't have time to focus on that.
He had to find his daughter.
He asked them if they were up to the task of tracking his daughter down. They both answered that they were.
Jake nodded to them and told them to get ready and get armed.
When he thought they were about to head out, Antonio Savina walked over to Jake, and apologized profusely to Jake, and explained that Bellamy Blake wasn't to be trusted. That he had mocked Clarke before she'd been sent down. That he had treated Clarke very badly."
Jake, alarmed by this, checked the footage of Clarke being taken to the pods.
And unfortunately, it looked like Savina spoke the truth.
Bellamy Blake had verbally abused Clarke. Physically too.
Jake cursed quietly, and called for another guard to replace Bellamy Blake. And he gave the order for Bellamy Blake to be put in a cell for what he had done.
As Jake watched as Bellamy was disarmed of his batons and of his firearms, and then was dragged to his cell, he heard the young man shout curses at Jake, telling him that first chance he'd get, he'd Clarke pay for Jake and Abby's "crimes" for being privileged.
Jake tried not to snort. Ah. Bellamy was one of those types of people, huh? The type that would consider privilege a literal crime, rather than focus on fixing the issue at hand.
Focused more on punishment than resolving the problem.
Jake didn't deem idiots like that as worth his time.
When Bellamy Blake was put away in his cell, Jake didn't think that he'd have to worry about the young man again.
He would learn to regret that decision.
After the guards had thrown Bellamy Blake into his cell and locked him up and left him, Bellamy was left to stew for several hours.
That was, until five figures showed up in front of his cell door, and he could see them through the glass of his cell window.
Bellamy's eyes widened when he saw who it was.
His younger sister, Octavia Blake, and his thirteen-year-old girlfriend, Raven Reyes, and three other teens who admired him and listened to him; Nathan Miller, age thirteen, John Murphy, age eleven and John Mbege, age fourteen.
He grinned when he saw them.
Bellamy was eighteen. He'd joined the guards of the Ark, as soon as he turned eighteen, wanting to have that power over people, and when he'd met Raven a few months ago, he'd noticed how pretty she was, not to mention noticed that Raven was developing finely, so he took advantage and made himself look like the best option to her.
And hey, would you look at that? It worked.
Bellamy liked young girls. Especially if they were developing.
Bellamy had come to a realization years ago, that as long as no one knew about his younger sister, Octavia, who was a second child and her existence would lead to their mother being floated, and as long as no one knew about Octavia except for himself, his mother and those few close to him, then he could do whatever he wanted, as long as he had the power to do it.
Which was why whenever he did what he wanted, he did it to people like him. People who were too impoverished to fight back.
If there was a thirteen, fourteen or fifteen-year old girl that he wanted that had breasts and was of the lower class? That was wonderful to him, then he could fuck her against her will and there would be nothing she could do about it.
Even better if she killed herself. Then he wouldn't have to worry about her complaining to the authorities.
Then when he had become a guard? It was like someone had made all the wishes he had come true.
Because he was a guard, and there were a lot of prisoners in the Ark, who were underage. And many? Young girls.
Soon, Bellamy had found himself going into those cells and making deals with the young girl prisoners, telling them that he'd get them whatever they wanted, but they'd have to do something for him first.
He would bring the girls what they wanted. But in return? They'd have to let them fuck them or suck him off.
And the prisoners all being young girls that were scheduled to be floated and silenced? Made it all the better for Bellamy.
And the girls all being fifteen, fourteen or thirteen and developing? That was just the best for him.
It was a pity it was coming to an end now.
Bellamy hadn't met his soulmate yet. His soulmate mark was of a mark he didn't recognize and in a language he didn't recognize either. Not his problem. Why care about soulmates, when he had all the sex he wanted with young girls in the cells?
But now it was coming to an end.
Bellamy hated Thelonius Jaha, since Jaha likely would have executed Bellamy's mother, first chance he got, as soon as he found out about Octavia. But he had made Bellamy's fantasies coming true happen by keeping teenagers locked up and by making him a guard.
This new leader; Jake Griffin?
Bellamy sensed that he would hate the man.
Jake didn't strike him as being willing to put up with any behavior that Thelonius Jaha barely noticed.
Bellamy hated people like that. They thought that they had the right to tell him "no."
Bellamy wasn't the type to go after girls that weren't developing yet, but he might just make an exception for Clarke, if it meant hurting the little bitch's father.
He probably would kill her too. It would be funny. To rape her, then kill her. See how her daddy reacted.
The same bastard that likely spoiled that little bitch and gave the little bitch everything.
Bellamy snickered as he glanced at Raven. He'd give that little bitch something, alright.
Raven, he saw her merely as a hole to fuck, but she'd do. He kneeled down and opened up the slot in the door and spoke to the five people in front of the door as he did, "I need you to listen to me. The cards for the locks on the cells, are kept in a metal case in the control room. If Sinclair isn't there? Then that probably means that the lock can be opened up and the cards brought here."
Murphy and Mbege nodded to him and ran down the hall, to the control room.
Bellamy stood back, winking at Raven, who blushed, and waited.
The four of them were listened to this whole time.
Keeping himself tucked away, between some walls and listening in, was a young boy of thirteen, who had thought that Raven loved him, but had learned more and more over time, that Raven was loyal to this "Bellamy" creep.
The young thirteen-year-old boy was named Finn Collins.
The young Finn Collins had brown hair and his brown eyes were watching everything, swallowing, realizing that trouble was coming.
The Ark had touched down to the ground, but hadn't yet opened up to let anyone out.
Finn knew that he had limited time.
He could stay quiet and let violence happen, or he could report this and help Jake Griffin, who from what he had seen? Was a good guy and just wanted to find his dear daughter again.
Finn made his choice, taking one more glimpse that the ugly face of Bellamy Blake and he ran from where he had put himself and ran down the hall, opposite of the direction down the hall where Murphy and Mbege went.
Finn saw the man who had seen the face of being sent out throughout the many TV screens, as he gave his speech about the Ark failing. That was Jake Griffin, alright.
Finn raced over to him, waving to the main, noticing the young black boy of thirteen or something near him and the young Asian-American woman with him.
Seeing Finn coming running over, the guards reached for their weapons.
Jake instantly told them not to grab for their weapons and he turned to Finn, smiling gently at the thirteen-year-old boy.
"Hello," he said, "You wanted to see me?"
Finn nodded, panting, out of breath, feeling sweat soak his forehead.
"Yeah," he said, "That guy you locked up? Bellamy Blake? He's real bad news. He's trying to break out of his cell. And he has help. Some kids are helping him. Two of them, John Murphy and John Mbege, are going to get the cards that will unlock his cell door. Also, I know you guys have rules about adults sleeping with kids. His girlfriend is thirteen years old."
Finn watched as Jake's eyes widened.
Finn wasn't doing this because he was jealous of Bellamy dating Raven, or anything. If anything, when Raven had started seeing that creep, Bellamy? Finn had lost interest in her.
Anyone who couldn't see that Bellamy was evil incarnate in a human skin, were probably pretty dangerous too.
He didn't want anything to do with Raven, because of that.
But Jake was a decent man.
Jake turned to the guards with him as he ordered, "Send out more guards. Stop Bellamy's thugs from getting to the cards. And send an arrest out for John Murphy and John Mbege."
Jake turned to Finn. "Is there anyone else helping him?"
Finn nodded and answered without hesitation, "Nathan Miller, Bellamy's younger sister, Octavia Blake and Raven Reyes, his thirteen-year-old girlfriend."
Jake was startled.
Bellamy had a younger sibling?
That was unexpected.
Obviously, Bellamy and his mother had to keep Octavia a secret from the rest of the Ark, unless he wanted his sister and his mother floated.
Jake had done research on both Antonio Savina and Bellamy Blake, before calling them up. He knew that a single mother had raised Bellamy and Octavia.
The guards were sent out to imprison not just John Murphy and John Mbege, but also Nathan Miller, Raven Reyes and Octavia Blake.
Soon, all five individuals were captured and brought forward, struggling, to Jake.
Finn stood by Jake and Wells and Callie, as the prisoners were brought forward.
Finn looked away when Raven saw him.
"Finn?!" Raven asked, enraged.
"Collins?!" Murphy and Octavia spat.
"Traitor," Miller said, disgusted.
"This good and decent young man," Jake said, gesturing to Finn, "Informed me that Bellamy has been doing great wrongs for years. Going after young girls, as young as thirteen," he looked at Raven, pityingly, "Reyes, I want you to know, whatever Bellamy did to you, it wasn't your fault. You're a victim."
Raven spat out at Jake, her spittle hitting the floor startlingly loudly.
"Oh, fuck you, Griffin," she sneered, "You don't know anything about Bellamy. You don't know him like I do."
Jake winced. For him, this was a clear sign that Raven was abused.
He didn't understand yet, that Raven was as horrid as Bellamy was. But he'd learn.
Jake looked at the other prisoners and gave the order that they were to all be imprisoned but because of their age, none of them were to be hurt or executed at all. They were to be kept safe and imprisoned and awaiting rehabilitation.
Many guards snorted at the idea of "rehab," but Jake was making it clear. He was not going to be like Thelonius Jaha and have children killed.
And as far as Jake could see? These teenagers were just victims of Bellamy, nothing else.
He didn't understand them. He had no idea how evil they all were. Yet.
The teenagers were dragged to their cells, thrown in and the doors were locked.
From his cell, Bellamy brooded, angered. His plans were disrupted. Now, he'd have to wait for another way of getting out of his cell and getting to rape and kill Jake Griffin's little bitch.
John Murphy, John Mbege, Nathan Miller, Raven Reyes and Octavia Blake, were dragged down the hall past Bellamy's cell and thrown into their cells. But across from Bellamy's cell? Was the cell of Abby Griffin.
Abby knocked on the glass door of her cell window and Bellamy looked out at her across the hall.
Abby smiled and while she knew that Bellamy wouldn't be able to hear her through the glass, she gestured down at the slots of their doors for where the food was supposed to be slipped in through.
Both she and Bellamy kneeled down and opened the slots of their doors to speak to each other.
"You're Abby Griffin?" Bellamy asked, "The head physician?"
"That's me, yes," Abby said, smiling, "I heard that you want to go against Jake Griffin."
"Yeah?" Bellamy asked cautiously, remembering that this woman was married to Jake Griffin.
Abby grinned. "That's very good to hear," she said, "Because I'd like your help. I want Jake Griffin taken down too, for how he's treated me. And I think the best way of doing that? Is killing the adoptive daughter that I never wanted. Clarke Griffin."
She watched as Bellamy's eyes widened, then smirked when she saw the grin that crossed Bellamy's face.
A deadly partnership was formed right then and there.
Finn Collins waited with Wells Jaha and Callie Cartwig, getting to know them and talk with them.
Finn learned how much Wells considered Jake Griffin a father. That he cared nothing for Thelonius Jaha.
Finn then investigated the soulmate mark on Wells's hand, which was of a silver lightning streak. He admitted that he had never seen anyone with that exact soulmate mark.
Wells nodded, not surprised.
"It's alright." He said, looking at Finn's soulmate mark, which was of a purple arrow, "I haven't seen that soulmate mark on anyone, either."
Finn nodded, smiling, and both boys curiously looked at Callie.
Callie chuckled and held out her hand for the boys to inspect. They looked at the soulmate mark that signified Callie as who she was. And again, they had never seen this mark on anyone before.
Callie's soulmate mark, was of a flying pink eagle.
Somewhere out there, there was a soulmate with Finn's mark and name on their chest, and a soulmate with Wells's mark and name on their chest, and a soulmate with Callie's mark and name on their chest.
But unfortunately, Callie, Finn and Wells didn't know who they were.
From what Wells had told Finn? Jake's wife thankfully wasn't his actually soulmate. Jake's soulmate, according to what Wells was told by Jake, and that Wells was telling Finn, Jake had a soulmate mark that was in a language that Jake didn't recognize.
That could mean a number of things. That Jake's soulmate was somewhere on the ground. Or was a part of the Ark and just spoke a language that Jake was unfamiliar with.
There were many people on the Ark that spoke different languages. Not all of them spoke mainly English.
But that wasn't the point right now.
The point right now, was that they needed to go find Clarke.
Finn asked about Clarke, not able to help his questions.
Wells and Callie answered him as best as they could, while Jake made the arrangements.
At Mount Weather, a spy and assassin just entered the vicinity.
He worked for SHIELD and was armed with a bow and many arrows.
His name was Clint Barton.
And he scouted through the mountain dutifully, finding himself more and more disturbed by what he was finding.
Bodies. Bodies everywhere.
Dead children even. And some dead babies.
All of them appeared to have died the same way. By something that made them have some sort of sickening physical reaction. This physical reaction, being their bodies being sliced open all over, bleeding out. Their lungs likely were ruined as well.
Clint knew what the condition of the Mountain Men was, before this. The Mountain Men were unable to go outside of the mountain without hazmat suits on.
The air was poisonous to them.
Which meant that someone had to have opened up all of the doors and windows of the mountain, to let the toxic air in.
But who?
Keeping his bow and arrow poised in front of him, Clint moved along, eyes darting from body to body.
Guards, civilians, men, women, children, babies, all of them felled by the toxic air, because someone had opened up all the openings of the mountain.
Clint tensed.
Who was willing to do this? Was it an accident possibly? Was the person unaware of what they had caused? Or they hadn't been aware at the time and realized it was too late to stop it?
Clint couldn't think of anyone, besides the people of the tribes, who would be willing to do something like this.
But how would anyone from the tribes be in a position to open up all the doors and the windows of the mountain?
All people of the tribes, as soon as the mountain captured them, were locked up in the cages in the lowest level of the mountain.
Which meant that it couldn't have been any of the people of the tribes that did this.
Clint made his way down the next hall, to the control room.
He looked over the area. Several dead guards were outside of the room.
Inside the room, there was a young dead woman, barely a woman, a girl really. The girl had long, black hair and had light brown skin. Or what skin wasn't marred by red slashes and gouges, was light brown.
Clint entered the room, seeing no sign of anything else. He tried to find what settings controlled the footage in this room.
He saw the screen which showed him entering the room and standing near the corpse of the girl.
That screen was connected to the camera in this room, clearly. If he could rewind it, hopefully, he could find out what happened here.
He pressed on the rewind button and watched as the footage of the screen where he could see himself, rewound back.
He then stopped the tape, as he saw this was before the young girl whose body he was in the room with, was killed.
He watched the footage.
The girl whose dead body he was now next to, came in, and stared there for several minutes.
Then something happened. The girl moved the barricade that she had placed in front of the door and allowed two people inside the room with her.
One was a black man with short, black hair. Clearly a young man from one of the tribes, if his tattoos were anything to go by. If that biohazard tattoo on the young man was anything to go by? The young man was from the Tri tribe.
The other was a girl even younger than the girl whose body Clint was next to.
The girl was very young. Small, blonde and white. She was dressed much like the Mountain Men were dressed.
There was no way any of the mountain would ever have allowed a person from the tribes to be dressed like them. Which meant that this girl wasn't of the tribes.
Clint saw what the girl was carrying.
A gun, yes. But also? A shield.
A large, round shield, painted red and blue, with a star in the middle of it.
Clint's eyes widened.
It couldn't be, right? There was no way that a child that young and small could carry around a shield like that, if the shield was what Clint's mind was assuming it was.
There was no way that was Captain America's actual shield.
There was sound in the video. Clint heard the gunshots throughout the video.
Then he heard the name that the black-haired girl called the blonde-haired girl.
Clint's mouth dropped when he heard the name of the blonde girl.
Clarke. The girl's name was Clarke.
Clint tried to discourage that thought. Clarke wasn't a common name, no, but he couldn't just assume that this girl was his familial soulmate.
He, his wife, his brother and his and his wife's children, all had a gold sun mark on their backs, and under that gold sun symbol, was the name, "Clarke Griffin."
Clint remembered a time when that name was different. The name was in another language. But years ago, the name changed to English. The name changed to Clarke Griffin.
Clint wouldn't try to think too hard about what that meant. No more than trying to convince himself that this girl, Clarke, was the same Clarke that he had the familial mark of on his back.
It was just a coincidence.
That was what Clint thought.
But he rewound several other tapes of footage and watched them.
And he heard how the leader of the Mountain Men, Dante Wallace, introduced Clarke to other people.
As Clarke Griffin.
Clint felt his left hand tighten around the arrow and bow in his grip.
He fast forwarded the video he was watching of the control room, as Clarke, the person who was part of the tribes and the dark-haired girl who Clarke called "Maya," were being terrorized by the guards.
He watched the footage and learned that the name of the person from the tribes was named "Lincoln."
Then he got to the most vital part of the footage.
Maya had wired everything to the lever in the mountain and was about to pull the lever, till she was shot.
Which left either Clarke or Lincoln to pull it.
And Clint watched, horrified as Clarke closed in on the lever and he caught sight of Clarke's left palm.
He saw the symbol there. A golden sun symbol with fire around it.
That was his familial soulmate, Clarke Griffin, alright.
His familial soulmate, not to mention the familial soulmate of his wife, children, his brother and his sister-in-law.
And the romantic partner soulmate of agent Maria Hill, and the romantic partner soulmate of the young girl that Clint had taken in, Natalia Alinovna Romanova, now calling herself Natasha Romanoff.
And Clint stepped back, horror grabbing hold of him, as Clarke pulled the lever, opening everything inside the mountain, letting the air that was so toxic to the Mountain Men, in.
Clint felt sick as he watched Clarke become resigned to what she had done, staring at the screens, punishing herself for what she was doing, forcing herself to live with the memory.
Clint watched the rest play out. Watched Clarke grieve over Maya, watched Clarke yell at the people of the tribes when she saw them again down below, then going back up and getting something from her room, then getting the round shield that looked like Captain America's shield, then leaving with Lincoln.
Clint noticed something else. He furrowed his eyebrows, as he watched on another screen, and saw two people; one who he had learned from watching the footage, to be Dante Wallace, and a woman who he learned to be called "Dr. Tsing," evacuating in hazmat suits, as the doors and windows of the mountain were all open and going through a secret compartment within the mountain.
Clint's eyes widened.
Dr. Tsing and Dante Wallace were still alive.
Dante Wallace had abandoned his son, Cage Wallace.
But Dante and Dr. Tsing were still alive.
Clint squinted, noticing something that was left behind on the table in the labs, where Dr. Tsing had left it.
Dr. Tsing clearly was trying to go back for it, but Dante grabbed her hand and pulled her along, the hands clasped together looking more bulky than usual in hazmat suits as they left out of that compartment.
Clint's eyes found the object on Tsing's desk.
It was a book of some type. Black or dark brown and small in size.
Clint looked at where the lab was located on the screen, trying to ignore his horror over seeing what he'd witnessed his young familial soulmate do.
He then ran out of the control room and ran down the many halls, going past all the bodies, and went to the lab.
There were many computers, syringes and containers full of blood bags.
Clint tried not to shudder. He didn't want to think too hard about the things that Dr. Tsing had done for the sake of the Mountain Men being able to go aboveground.
He then got to the desk where the book was.
He picked it up and opened it up, looking at what was inside. He suspected that he was right about his assumption about the book, that it was a journal.
But you'd only guess that by slim actions of puzzling it together.
Because this journal? Was not your average journal. It had all these numbers and what Clint presumed to be codes.
He breathed out, grabbed his radio and spoke into it, telling agent Maria Hill everything he had seen and heard so far.
Yes, he knew that it was risky telling her something like that, knowing that Clarke Griffin was Maria Hill's romantic partner soulmate, but he knew that she had the right to know. As soon as he saw his wife, saw his kids and saw Natasha again, he would tell all of them too.
He heard the silence. Then Maria said, her voice grave, "Where is she?"
"I don't know yet," Clint said, "I'll find her, I promise."
Clint and Maria both knew that it would be against multiple laws for them to bring Clarke in any way near Maria right now.
Clarke right now was almost eleven years old. Clint remembered the exact date the soulmate showed up on his back.
September 28th, during the day.
If he didn't remember it, he certainly remembered Natasha telling him about the time she and her sister, Yelena both saw the mark on their chests, when they were being trained and brainwashed by that horrible place, controlled by Dreykov.
Natasha said it was one of the happiest moments of her life, even if she and Yelena both were trapped.
And that she feared what her mate would think of her, whenever Natasha's mate found out what Natasha had done in the name of the society she grew up in.
Clint almost released a bitter laugh.
Because now Clarke had a terrible weight on her shoulders, just as much as he and Natasha both had.
Clint looked down at the journal in front of him and still flipped through it as Maria told him to find Clarke.
Clarke was almost eleven. And Maria was twenty-three.
For Maria to have any contact with Clarke right now, would be child grooming.
To avoid this, any mate that was younger than their soulmate or soulmates, were to be raised separately from their intended one or intended ones.
But Clint knew that Maria needed to know if Clarke was safe or not.
Clint's eyes found a page that he flipped to with the words, "Notes on Clarke Griffin."
Clint looked over the codes under that line.
These were codes that Clint didn't understand. He had no idea what was being said in this page.
These were codes about Clarke and he didn't understand them.
Clint cursed quietly. Maybe there was someone at SHIELD headquarters, who knew how to decipher this thing.
Lincoln at last got Clarke to a trading post, when he promised the man there that he would give trade to the man later, in return for some horses.
The man agreed and called over to his daughter to bring out some horses. He yelled in Trigadesleng for someone he called "Niylah," to come out and bring out the horses.
Lincoln translated to Clarke what the man said.
As soon as Clarke heard the name, "Niylah," she gasped, head raised.
Niylah?
"Klark?" Lincoln asked, looking at her, "Is everything alright?"
Clarke swallowed, trying to ignore how fast her heart was beating.
One of her mates, Niylah was here? Really?
Then Clarke felt ice water wash over her.
After everything she'd done? Could she really face any of her mates?
Clarke quickly left the trading post and went to a tree, going behind it, waiting for the horses to be brought out and for Niylah to leave.
Lincoln exited the trading post and saw where Clarke was, not understanding.
Lincoln turned around when he heard a woman's voice say to her father, "Here you are, father," in Trigedasling.
Lincoln watched as a young woman in what was likely her mid or late twenties, with long dark blonde hair, bring horses to her father, then leave.
Only when this "Niylah" disappeared back into the building of the trading post, did Clarke come out from behind the tree and go to where Lincoln, Niylah's father and the horses were.
Clarke quietly thanked the curious man that was Niylah's father and she ignored Lincoln's troubled looks.
They got on the horses and Clarke winced, feeling bad for the horse as she heard it grumble quietly, with the added weight of the shield tied to its saddle.
"Sorry, horsy," Clarke said quietly to the black stallion she was on, who Niylah's father informed her was named "Fleim reator," which translated to English as "Flame breather."
Clarke was just going to have to assume that the horse didn't actually breathe fire.
Clarke thanked the man, trying desperately to ignore the yearning in her chest as she and Lincoln left the post where Niylah was and rode off.
When they were miles from the post, and from what Lincoln told Clarke, were going in the direction of a place called "Polis," and that was where the current commander was, Lincoln asked Clarke why Clarke had avoided being seen by Niylah.
Clarke smiled sadly and explained to Lincoln, deciding to not tell him that Niylah was her mate. She came up with a lie instead.
She said, "People around here don't know me. They might ask questions if they see me. It's bad enough that Niylah's father saw me."
Lincoln said quietly, "They'll find out that you're a newcomer, one way or another."
Clarke nodded. "I mean, you're right," she said. But again, there was that pain in her chest. She had almost met Niylah.
And it hurt.
How would Niylah react? Knowing that her mate was the Commander of Death? That her romantic partner soulmate was a murderer?
Clarke tried not to think about that and just tell herself that Niylah and all of Clarke's other mates, were better off without her as she and Lincoln rode closer and closer to Polis, to meet the current commander, Korta.
Author's note
No, in case anyone is wondering, Lexa isn't the commander yet. I know in most stories, Lexa is already the commander by the time Clarke gets down. But the conclave that Lexa will end up in hasn't happened yet. I'm just making it earlier. And the previous commander is still in charge. And yes, that means that the coalition hasn't been formed yet.
And for those that are feeling like it's taking a long time for the Lovecraftian stuff to really happen? This is going to be a slow burn story for several reasons. Just wait for it, be patient.