DAY 81: CLARKE

131 YEARS AGO

If I didn't feel so damn blissful right now, I would really hate myself for not letting myself closer to her a whole lot sooner. It's not that I'm not trying. I swear, I almost kicked myself in the head just a moment ago, when she drifted off for a bit. But then she woke back up and showed me how stupid I'd been all over again within minutes, and in the best possible way: without any tears this time, and with double the passion.

I haven't stopped grinning since. That is, until now.

"I have to go," I sigh with reluctance. "Octavia is waiting for me."

"In that case she can wait forever," Lexa murmurs against my chest, "Cause I can't let you go."

Alarmed by her words, I'm about to shoot up straight, but she stops me before I can; keeping me in place with one flat, strong hand on my shoulder. It's her giggle that gives her away though.

"Not before you promise me you'll come back to me as soon as you possibly can," she explains herself.

I instantly feel my body relax again, together with the smile that creeps up on my face.

"That's the easiest promise ever."

She looks up at me. "Do I need to raise the bar?"

"No," I smile down on her, "You just have to wait for me. Dressed like this, preferably." My hand starts to dart down, my fingers slowly tracing her bare skin from her shoulder all the way to her lower back. "Although I understand that might be a little weird when you're out there saving our world."

"I like that," she hums.

I squint my eyes. "You like commanding your army... naked?!"

Lexa laughs wholeheartedly, then crawls even deeper into my arms. "Our world," she says. "I like the sound of that."

"Then you better get used to it," I smile, right when the tip of my finger starts its climb back up. "Cause that's what we're gonna build."

She props herself up on her elbow to hover above me, and when our eyes lock I wonder if she's ever looked more beautiful.

"You really can't stay?" she asks me.

I show her another smile, though I know this one comes with a bit of sadness.

"You know I can't."

"Then kiss me instead."

I grin again, brushing her hair back from her face. "That I can do."

She doesn't give me the chance to add the "— for a minute", already crashing her mouth against mine. Our kiss isn't as deep or as desperate as it was an hour ago, but it still comes with the heavy weight of our near goodbye, and it still takes my everything to let go of her.

By the time I find my voice again, it's barely more than a whisper. "I really have to go now."

I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince here, her... or myself.

"I know," she just says this time.

"Will you wait for me?"

"Otaim," she smiles. "Always..."

... ...

TODAY

To hold her in my arms. For the longest time I had no choice but to believe I only got to do that once - just once. We had our moment. Had I known it would be the only one, I would never have left her. Had I known she was about to take a bullet for me, I'd still be in that bed, I'd still be holding her close and safe into my arms right now.

But I didn't know, and I didn't keep her safe, and the next moment I hold on to her, she was dying. And in a way, so was I.

And yet here we are again. Together. For some miraculous reason we got a second chance. I am holding her again, and not just for a moment. Night after night after night she sleeps in my arms. And each time she does, I feel overwhelmed with this enormous gratitude that our last moment wasn't our final moment after all. And each time she does, I swear to myself I will protect her no matter what.

This morning is no different.

There's not a single bone in my body that thinks of letting go of her, but when I hear the sound of shuffling footsteps I sit up nonetheless. There's someone out there, close to our door. I'm just not sure who it is.

I get out of bed, cautious not to wake anyone. When I cross the small cabin, my hand moves to my hip, just to be sure I've got my knife with me in case I'll need it.

"Madison?" I quietly ask through the door.

The next moment I can hear the footsteps draw closer, followed by a short silence, before a soft click tells me the door is no longer locked. However I leave it to the person on the other side to actually open it.

Only then I'm confirmed that it's indeed Madison. When the door opens, just for a few inches, she warily peeks in.

"Morning," I whisper, assuming it is. "It's just me. Alicia and Madi are still asleep." And very much alive, I think, but I make sure not to say that part out loud, as she clearly takes these precautions very seriously.

"Is she alright?" Madison asks.

"She is," I answer her, then adding - though I doubt if she cares, "We all are."

Madison steps into our cabin, which forces me to step back, since there's hardly any space to walk around at all. She kneels next to the bed, watches her daughter sleep, then gently caresses her cheek without waking her. When she stands up, she checks on Madi, not just to make sure I was telling the truth, but—somewhat to my surprise—in a seemingly sincere and caring way. She even adjusts her sheet, pulling it all the way up to her chin.

When she turns to me again, she bobs her head towards the door.

"Come. I made coffee."

Once we're both in the narrow hall, I think I catch a hint of conflict in her eyes as she's about to close the door behind her. Yet then she turns away, leaving it as it is—unlocked.

I follow her through the living room (for the lack of a better word), where Strand is still sleeping on the couch, and then onto the deck. The sun is hardly up, yet by the looks of it Madison has been sitting here for a while. There's a crumpled blanket, next to a thermos and an empty mug.

As soon as she sits down on the cool metal deck, she pours me a cup without asking and holds it up for me. Not knowing what else to do I accept it - not just grateful for the warm liquid, but most of all for the gesture itself.

Using the cap of the thermos as an extra mug, she pours herself another cup too.

We enjoy our first sips in silence, both gazing over the glistening water of the lake, towards the horizon where the sun is starting its climb. The sky is crisp, almost full of promises.

I want to ask her how she's feeling. I want to know if she's happy, or if we took that away by scaring her. But for some reason I can't. No words come out, and when I'm taking too long to speak up, she beats me to it.

"Tell me your story," she just says, her eyes still on the water in front of her, though now partly hidden behind the steam of her coffee.

I sit down next to her, my knees pulled up to my chest, and take a deep breath. The air I inhale feels fresh in my lungs.

"I come from a line of people who knew the world was about to end, long before it did," I start to tell, realizing I really do want to tell her the truth. "It made us able to escape in time, to flee to the one place that wasn't affected by the fall." I point up, to the clouds far above us. "Space."

Madison looks at me skeptically. "You want me to believe you boarded some rocket to live on the moon?"

"No," I shake my head, "I want to share my story with you. It's up to you if you believe me."

She stares at me, her eyes even more narrow than before, until she finally nods as a sign to go on.

"We didn't live on the moon," I set her straight. "We lived in one of the international space stations that was already up there, orbiting the earth. It wasn't the most cozy place, but it made a home, and most of all: it was safe."

"Hm. Sounds rather privileged to me."

"I get that. Believe me though, it definitely came with its own challenges. And its own price." Not allowing any distraction, I quickly force myself to shrug off the last image I have of Dad.

"Let me ask you this," Madison already goes on, "If life was that safe, then why would you ever decide to come back to a world you knew was no longer there? Where death had taken over?"

I shrug. "We had no choice. As we already had little resources, and population was starting to grow, we ran out of oxygen. Staying would have meant a guaranteed death sentence. On earth at least we'd still have a chance."

I give her a moment to process it all. As she does, I can almost see her make the calculation in her head. And I'm right.

"How young were you during all that?"

"Young," I acknowledge, conveniently skipping the part that I'm actually born up there. "Still a kid, mostly. I was seventeen when we returned to earth. That didn't mean I wasn't prepared though. Growing up in space came with a fine educational system. Plus we had quite some scientists among us, who used their time well. Anyway, a little while later I met Alicia. Of course we didn't really understand each other in the beginning. After all, it was almost like we came from different worlds. But we had this connection, almost straight away—"

"You can tell me about that later," Madison cuts me off. "Go back to that science part."

Going back in time had made my gaze drift off a bit, but now the insistence in her voice makes me look at her again. For the first time I see a real spark of interest in her eyes. Maybe even a glimmer of hope.

"What can I say? We had a whole bunch of brainiacs up there. My own mother actually being one of them. She's a doctor, you see. A fairly good one."

"And she's working on whatever is going on here?"

I nod, glad that she's using the present time. "She's trying to figure out what we're dealing with. And simultaneously working on a cure."

She raises her brow. "With any success?"

"Not as far as I know of - but I haven't seen her in months!" I quickly add on before she can interrupt me again. "She's getting somewhere though. Alicia wasn't lying yesterday, nor was she making stuff up. My mother managed to create a vaccine that protects us. We still get quite ill when we get bitten, and we still need treatment, but whatever we're dealing with isn't lethal anymore. Except when we'd get preyed on of course."

Madison stands up. Deep in thought, she begins to walk back and forth. Like mother, like daughter.

"You sound certain. But how can you be sure?"

"Because I've seen it. Madi got bitten about three months ago. I've never been more scared, but she got back on her feet within a couple of days. The vaccine works. And it's nothing to be scared of. It doesn't come with any side effects, hasn't changed us in any way. Well... except for the color of our blood."

"Oh, I think we can agree that it's not just a change of color." Madison makes a grimace. "Your blood looks like tar!"

"I guess it does," I admit. "I just hope that you can trust me when I say it's harmless. We're all as healthy as can be. And anything but a threat."

Madison just stares ahead, without saying another word, which I kind of hate, as I really need to know if she believes me. It's not because I managed to tell her the truth—or well, a huge part of it—but because I feel I might have saved Lexa from a conversation I know she's not ready for. That is, if she buys any of it.

Just when I start to worry if she'll ever speak up again, the door behind us opens with this elongated, cracking sound that makes us both turn around.

It's Lexa.

"Everything alright here?" she asks, an alarming look dawning on her face.

Madison smiles at her. I don't know her well enough to read her, but I'd like to believe that she means it when she tells her daughter that everything's fine.

Lexa narrows her eyes. "Everything as in...?"

"As in everything," Madison answers like she hasn't waved a knife at us just a few hours ago. "Clarke shared her story with me. She explained the whole thing."

As Lexa faces me, her eyes grow bigger, unable to stop showing her rising panic. "What whole thing?"

"I just told her about my mother's research. And the vaccines," I clarify, trying to keep my voice as calm and breezy as possible as I don't want to raise any possible suspicion that there is in fact a lot more to tell."

"Okay," Lexa nods, almost in slow motion, before taking the few steps towards me and dropping herself next to me on the deck. I hand her the cup with my last bit of coffee, which she accepts with a smile, even though those last sips aren't that warm anymore.

With both hands around the cup, she looks up at her mother. "So you're not scared of us anymore?"

Madison shakes her head. "I'm not. And I'm sorry that I questioned you all. It's just—"

"It's okay," Lexa and I answer in one voice, drawing a soft chuckle from Madison.

"It really is, Mom," Lexa goes on, "I would have done the same."

Taking a sharp inhale, Madison nods again - as slowly as Lexa just did, like her thoughts are totally elsewhere while her eyes linger on her long lost child. She must have a thousand questions, yet when she looks at her like this, I almost feel like her mind is quiet and at total peace.

"So we're good?" she asks at last.

"No, we're not," Lexa answers her, catching the both of us off guard. Did I miss anything?

Putting the now empty cup down, Lexa gets up and steps towards her mother. She takes her hands in her own, lifting them upwards until it looks like they're sharing a prayer.

"Mom, I can not let you stay here. This place is an absolute shithole, even in this world. We have to find something better. All of us, together."

I prepare myself for a firm rebuttal, but this time it's Madison who takes us by surprise.

"I agree," she smiles, before tilting her head like she's thinking out a plan right on the spot. "I'm actually a little ahead of you, as I already decided where I want to go."

"You do?" Lexa frowns. "Where?!"

"South," Madison shrugs.

"South?!" Lexa echoes. "Why would you wanna..."

She doesn't finish her question. By the look on her face she doesn't have to. I'm still confused as hell though.

"What's south?" I ask them.

Letting go of het daughter's hands, Madison turns to me. "Your mother," she simply answers. "And some vaccines with our names on it."

... ...