DAY 27-53: CLARKE

That night we sleep on the couch together, wrapped in each other's arms. Too tired to think, talk or move any more. Yet when I wake up the next morning, she's gone. And she doesn't come back until late after dinner.

I ask her about her day and she tells me all about it. She tells me how she's been out in the woods with Rosita and two guys I haven't met yet - Daryl and Aaron. And how she will meet the council again in a week to talk about the further collaboration between our groups.

"And how do you feel?" I ask her, "You know, after yesterday?"

As soon as my question is out, she seems to freeze. She just stares into nothing, her mouth half open, like the answer got stuck in her throat somewhere. Then she swallows and abruptly gets up to her feet.

"I'm good," she simply states, "It's late. Let me help you to the bedroom."

The next couple of days aren't much different, except for the fact that Siddiq comes by to check up on me and to bring me some crutches. Despite the medication I'm still in too much pain and discomfort to explore this place, but at least now I can move around the house a little bit.

"Where's your squad?" he asks me while examining my leg.

"Out," I sigh. "Learning, researching and helping to protect your squad."

His kind eyes lock with mine and the corners of his lips form a compassionate smile. "And what about that bothers you the most right now? The fact that they've got stuff to do, or the fact that you don't?" He suggestively raises his brows.

"Let's just say I'm not used to sitting at home," I confess, since he seemed to have figured it out already anyway. "With the world on fire, and people relying on me, it just feels wrong. And... useless."

Siddiq puts the splint back on, before looking at me again. "It's not though," he smiles.

I narrow my eyes, not following him.

"The world is not on fire," he shrugs nonchalantly, "I mean, sure, it's a big mess. But it's been a mess for the last ten years. I hate to say it, but this is our new normal. You just... gotta find your way in it."

Not knowing how to respond, I just nod. But even though he makes it sound easy, I really have no clue how to do that, how to simply accept a situation and live with it. Ever since I stepped out of that dropship at age seventeen, life has been about trying to change the world around me. Striving for change has become second nature. Like it's in my veins.

Cautious not to hurt me, Siddiq gently pats my leg. "How about you just try to enjoy your little break, since you don't have another choice anyway?"

"How? Everyone is out all day," I grumble. I know that I'm acting a tad juvenile, but I can't really control it since it feels too good to get the frustration off my chest, and since he doesn't seem to be bothered by it. In fact, he seems kind of entertained by my misery, in a sympathetic way.

"I could bring you some books," he suggests, while getting up and collecting his things, "If you're into reading of course."

"Actually..."

He turns to face me again.

"You think you could bring me some pencils? Or chalk maybe?"

He answers by showing another wide grin, and doesn't disappoint when he comes back later that day to drop off all kinds of art supplies.

... ...

Days pass by with Lexa being either away or too quiet for my liking, but on the night after the council meeting she is a bit more talkative.

She tells the three of us that our people can stay where they are and settle down there if wanted, although the advise would be to find a place that doesn't have to be build from scratch. Yet eventually that's up to us. The most important thing is that this part of the woods is ours is we want to, as kind of a thank you for defeating the Whisperers. Also there might be a spot for us in their coalition, somewhere in the near future, if all leaders agree. So that will be discussed at another hour.

It's good news and I think I can actually see some relief on her face, but before we can chat more about it, she's already gone again to start yet another security shift. Two minutes later Raven follows her to do god-knows-what, leaving Madi and me alone at the dinner table.

I look at her, watch how she's gazing at the door Raven just left through, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"Did she talk to you?" I ask.

Looking at me, she frowns. "Raven?"

"No, Lexa."

She shakes her head. "Hardly."

I want to ask her how she feels about this, but the way she pulls the jug of water towards her and starts to fill our glasses gives me the impression she doesn't want to talk about it. But I'm wrong. Right before she puts her glass to her lips, she restlessly puts it back on the table and continues, her voice now low and insecure. "Is she mad at me?"

"What? No!" I scooch a bit closer and lay my hand on top of hers. "She's not mad, Madi, she's just... upset. But not with you! Believe me, she cares a lot about you."

She averts her eyes, sadness clouding her face. "She doesn't want to be my sister."

"I don't think that's true. Right now, she's just processing. She's got a whole lot to deal with, and she doesn't know where to start. She needs time. We can't do anything else than give her that, and be there for her when she's ready."

"And then she'll talk to me?"

"I'm sure about that," I nod, squeezing her hand. "She told me she would."

Her eyes find mine again. "Does she talk to you?"

A sigh escapes me before I can stop it. "Hardly," I answer honestly. "I mean, she talks, but not about the things that matter."

Another moment of silence follows, in which my mind goes where it always goes these days: to Lexa, and her lonely struggle.

"Clarke," Madi pulls me back at last, "is she okay?"

With our eyes locked, I draw my lips between my teeth. It doesn't keep me from taking another deep breath. Now I'm the one to shake my head, before sharing the bitter truth with her.

"Hardly."

... ...

Like so many nights this week, I'm already in bed when she comes home. She tries to be quiet, but when she notes that I'm still awake she comes over and kisses me.

"How are you? Any less pain?" she asks, considerate, though already moving to her side of the bed before I can answer, or even better: pull her in.

"A lot better, yes," I tell her as she slides under the sheets. "I missed you, though. How are you holding up?"

I roll onto my back, ready to welcome her in my arms. But unlike any other night, she doesn't rest her head on my chest. Instead she just turns off the light on her nightstand and stays like that, her back turned towards me.

"I'm fine," she says. "Just tired."

She doesn't move, or say anything else, and the heavy silence between us is killing me.

Minutes pass.

"Lex," I can't help but breathe after what feels like—and might actually be—an hour, "are you asleep?"

She's smart enough not to say yes. Yet not answering at all doesn't tell the truth either. The sound of her breathing is enough to tell me she's wide awake.

Rolling onto my side again I now face her back. Her silhouette stands out in the moonlight. I stretch my arm. She shivers as my fingers rake across the bare skin of her shoulder.

"Where are you?" I whisper into the darkness.

When she doesn't respond, the room feels even more empty. But then she turns over and finds her place in my arms - finally, and without hesitation. Her lips gently stroke my collarbone when she answers me, her voice barely audible.

"I'm right here."

I hear her. I feel her. But I don't believe her.

We both know she's miles away.

... ...

"Clarke, look who came to see us!"

Sitting on the porch bench in front of our house, I can hear Madi's voice from fifty yards away. I peek over the railing and watch how she's coming closer, together with a familiar face.

"Bellamy!" I cry out when he climbs the steps to join me on the veranda. "Now that's what I call a nice surprise. What brings you over?"

"That Jesus fellow," he laughs, showing me that crooked smile of his. "He came by on his way back to Hilltop to inform us about your accident. We figured it would take you a bit longer than a few days to come back. But now that it's actually been three weeks, we felt like I'd better check on you." His grin fades. "How are you?"

"I'm doing better. I swear! There's no need to look this worried."

"You broke your leg!"

"I survived worse," I shrug. "Now tell me, you didn't come here all alone, did you?"

He shakes his head, then takes a seat right next to me. "Nah, Shaw came with me to see Raven. Madi showed him where to find her."

As Madi disappears into the house to get us all some food and drinks, we stay quiet for a moment. He looks around, taking in the street and the houses across from ours. "Nice place," he nods approvingly, "Sure beats a tent in the woods."

"How's it going down there? Are you able to manage peace?"

"So far, yes. About thirty people chose to leave. I expect most of the prisoners to do the same, but for now they're still asleep. But that still leaves us with over two hundred people at the camp. They're all good, but also starting to get a bit restless."

"They want to start building," I gather, "I get that."

"Yes," Bellamy nods again, "But most of all, they want to see Lexa. We can tell them all we want, but it's pretty clear that in the end they're waiting for her orders."

When I stay quiet, he tilts his head to look at me.

"Speaking of, where is she?"

"She left," I say, quickly adding when a look of concern crosses his face, "To DC, I mean. That's one of the bigger cities in this area, or what's left of it. She joined a whole group of people to go scavenging this morning. Actually, Shaw is lucky, cause Raven really wanted to join, too."

"Why didn't she?"

I shift in my seat, turning a bit more towards him. "Because it's a day walk, making it a three day trip at least. With that, the people in charge were afraid she could be a liability, or cause a delay... because of her leg and all." I feel a small chuckle rise in my chest and my lips curl into a grin. "Now that I think of it, maybe Shaw isn't that lucky. Raven is a nightmare ever since she got benched!"

"Or maybe Shaw is exactly what she needs right now," Bellamy winks.

Despite all sorrow of the past few weeks, I can't help but laugh. "Let's hope so!"

"All jokes aside though," he continues, "when do you think you guys are coming back?"

I run my hand through my hair, giving his question some thought. "Honestly, I don't know," I admit. "I hope to be back on my feet in about a week, but I've been told it can easily take two or three more. So I can't tell. I can only promise you that we'll be back as soon as we can. I'm well aware of the rising impatience among Wonkru."

"And Lexa is too, right?"

"Of course she is," I reassure him, but as soon as the words are out I doubt if they're actually true. Truth is, I have no idea what's going on in her head these days.

... ...

They return four days later, drawing quite some attention when they bring in a wagon full of useful stuff. There are three people pulling it—Daryl, Aaron and Kyle, I know by now, since in the past weeks I've met most of the Alexandrians—while Lexa and Rosita help them by pushing it from the back. Everyone is chatting and laughing, and as I watch them I realize it's the first time in almost a month that I see her like this. Joking and... at ease.

It should make me happy, but for some reason it doesn't.

The heavy gate gets closed behind them and together they start to unload the wagon. That's when Lexa spots me, still watching them work from a short distance. She speeds towards me.

"Look at you walking the streets," she cheers, "Good for you!" Her kiss is more passionate than it has been in weeks. It's strangely overwhelming.

"It's hardly walking," I mutter, "Still only one leg, two arms."

"Those arms are growing some serious guns though," she giggles. She turns away to wave at the others, signing to them that she's off, then looks at me again. "Let's go home."

As we start walking—or hopping—I continue where we left off. "I just feel like I need to stay in shape. Since we're going back soon and all."

As soon as the words are out, her face twists, making her grin disappear and her expression close up. "What are you talking about?"

"About going home, or whatever you wanna call it. It's been almost four weeks, Lex. I'm pretty positive I can make the trip in like a week or so."

"We don't have to, though."

I look at her, not able to hide the bewilderment on my face. "Of course we do! People are waiting for us."

She avoids my eyes, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her. "Says who? Maybe Indra never told them? Or maybe she did, but they don't care? Or worse, they don't want me there..."

"They do," I tell her, as I carefully climb the three steps to our porch. "Bellamy told me."

"Bellamy?"

Taking a moment to catch my breath I look at her, watch how she opens the front door and goes in. The happy and relaxed Lexa I saw five minutes ago is gone again, replaced by the Lexa that's been around me for the past few weeks.

"Yeah," I start to fill her in, while following her through the hallway. "He was here, together with Shaw. He told me that everyone knows, and that people are getting impatient. They're waiting for your return, and your orders. I told him we'd be there as soon as possible."

She turns around. "You shouldn't have."

"But why not?" I exclaim, my voice full of confusion. Hasn't this always been our plan?

"Because..." She blinks, then forces herself to look at me again. "Because I don't know if I want to leave Alexandria. I like it here."

My eyes grow wide and I think I can actually feel my jaw drop.

"You hear what you're saying?! You made those people out there rely on you, and wait for you, and now you just want to abandon them?"

"Yes," she admits quietly, and a little reluctant.

"Because you like it here?" I go on, air quoting those three words.

She just shrugs.

It's like I'm talking to a stranger. Except for our first day here and that one moment I just witnessed, I haven't seen her laugh—or even smile—once. I haven't seen her cheerful. And I know why that is, I know she's been feeling lost ever since the truth about her family came out, on top of everything else she was dealing with. But it doesn't add up with what she's saying right here. That this place offers something she likes. That this place makes her happy.

I exhale, a pointless effort to ground myself. To keep it together.

"What is it then? What makes you like this place so much? Or—" I abruptly fall quiet, realizing it could be way worse than this. Squinting my eyes, as if to have a better look at her, I force myself to continue. "Or should I ask who makes you like this place this much?"

She doesn't look away this time. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you've spent a lot of time with a whole bunch of new people these past few weeks. And with one girl in particular." Feeling my chest constrict, I take a deep breath. I hate that I'm even asking this, but I know that I have to. "What's going on between you and Rosita?"

... ...