The lights of the Ark's night cycle bathed the corridor a subtle shade of deep and dark red. Lexa's breath fogged the glass in front of her face and she leant her forehead against its surface in an attempt to ease the pounding between beneath her skull.

She'd be lying if said she wasn't afraid, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't second guessing her decision, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited, if she wasn't eager and hopeful and any number of other emotions she couldn't place.

She found herself focusing down onto the Earth that rotated by ever so slowly. It looked beautiful, it always did, especially when it was nighttime over the lands. She thought she could see faint wisps of clouds that just barely made themselves known through the darkness, she thought she could see the snaking of rivers and pools of lakes that reflected the moon's light. And she wondered, she imagined, she dreamt about what it must have been like to look upon the Earth at night when people lived their lives. She wondered what it would look like to have seen lights spread out across the dark lands and she wondered what it would be like to look up from the ground, to see the vastness of space, to see the stars blanket the night's sky and to feel the wind upon her face.

But Lexa didn't know if she liked those thoughts. Perhaps it was because she'd rather not think of how many billions had died during the collapse. Or maybe it was because she didn't quite know what she'd do if everything she had hoped for was nonexistent, if it was nothing but a foolish dream.

And so Lexa sighed, let her breath spread across the glass and she let the annoyance that was the headache take away her uncertainties.

Lexa checked her watch then, she waited just a few short seconds before the hour ticked by and then she turned her gaze to the far horizon to see the sun cresting the curve of the Earth. Rays of light began to splinter the darkness apart. Its presence pushed aside clouds and began to burrow ever so slowly across the hills, the mountains and forests and plains.

And perhaps that was what Lexa longed to see. For she wondered what it must look like to see the sun rise over any one of the vast forests from the ground. She wondered what it must feel like to have its heat warm her skin, she even wondered what it must be like to feel the wind, to feel the rain, the cold and the dark.

And it was with that last thought that she found herself forcing away any doubts, any reservations and uncertainties because she knew that there was no turning back, there was no backing down. Not anymore.

Lexa's boots clipped against the metal flooring of the Ark. Though it was still early people moved about, things always needed to be fixed, stations needed to be manned and order needed to be kept. Lexa smiled to those she passed that she knew, she nodded to those she recognised and she let her feet take her through the Ark until she came to the section where her shared quarters were.

She passed identical set of doors after identical set of doors until she came to the one with her name and the name of her roommate displayed on the lock screen. She took a moment to brace herself for the reproachful glare she knew would come, and she braced herself for the insult that would follow and then she let her hand press against the palm scanner.

Barely a second passed as the door's security system authenticated her palm print and then the door hissed open with a heavy thunk that seemed to make her headache throb just a little more forcefully.

Lexa's quarters were sparse, perhaps a little too void of familial oddities. Even Lexa's roommate owned little personal belongings and for that Lexa was thankful. And so she yawned, tried to stifle the sound and she let her work bag rest upon the main table as she moved deeper into her quarters.

The space was dominated by a single main room that combined kitchen, dining room and living room. A single door in the far wall hid away the bedroom. Those who lived in these smaller quarters didn't even have access to private washrooms. They shared a single large washroom located in a central part of the section they found themselves assigned. Perhaps being moved into larger quarters with its own bathing facilities was the only thing Lexa could one day look forward to when it came time to start a family. She sighed at the thought though, she shook her head only to wince at the slight ache and she tried not to dwell on the thought of family, of marrying, of childbirth and husbands for longer than she already had.

The hiss of the bedroom door sliding open sounded out and Lexa looked up to see Anya leaning against the doorway, slender arms crossed, hair sleep tussled, bare legs glowing in the dimmed lights and the thin sleep shirt she wore just barely holding back the cold.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Lexa said.

"You did," the frown upon Anya's face grew a little more proud as she took her in. "Late night?" and her head tilted enough that the high angle of her cheeks cast a scathing shadow across her face.

"Yeah," and Lexa shrugged. "Just trying to finish up some loose ends at work."

"You decided, didn't you?" it was simple, blunt, perhaps a little disappointed.

"I did," Lexa said, and she turned to face Anya fully, her eyes just once taking in the woman's form before meeting her glare with a raised chin.

"When do you leave?" Anya asked.

"Tomorrow," Lexa said as she looked down at her watch. "Just under six hours."

"You've thought about it?"

"I have," and Lexa had, as much as she could. She knew the risks, but she knew what was at stake, too. And they needed her, they needed someone who had leadership experience but who was expendable if things went south.

"They could send Sinclair," Anya said. "Anyone else but you."

"He's more important than I am," it came out a little tiredly. "Plus," and she shrugged. "I'm used to people blaming me for turning off their power, so if things go wrong I can deal with getting blamed for that, too."

"If things go wrong you'll be dead," and though Anya's words were blunt, though they could sound unkind, Lexa knew Anya cared in her own way.

"Then you can blame me for that, too," she said

"I'll have to get a new roommate," Anya said.

"You've already decided the mission's going to fail?" Lexa asked.

"Haven't you?" and Anya's voice seemed to come out a little less firm than Lexa was familiar with.

"No," Lexa answered as she shook her head. "I wouldn't have volunteered if I thought so."

"What are the chances, Lexa?" Anya asked and it surprised Lexa to find that Anya's voice came out tinged with just a hint of pleading.

"I don't know," she said. "But I can't sit here and do nothing while the Ark continues to die around us."

Anya looked away then, and Lexa found herself beginning to move closer, perhaps in part to try to give comfort to Anya, and perhaps in part just to ease herself into her bed, to get what little sleep she could get.

Anya's eyes softened just a fraction as she let her pass, "I'll have to get a new roommate," she repeated, and this time it seemed tinged with an emotion that made Lexa's breath stutter.

Lexa paused next to Anya and turned to face the other woman. Though Anya was taller than her, in her work boots Lexa found herself standing level with Anya who remained barefoot. She didn't quite realise how close they were until she felt Anya's breath ghost against her cheek and in that very moment she found herself taking in the depths of the other woman's eyes.

"I—" Lexa swallowed whatever it was she thought she was going to say.

Anya's eyes lowered for just a fraction of a second as they shared in the silence, and Lexa could swear she saw Anya's pulse quicken where it lay beating along the curve of her neck. Anya's hand reached out then ever so slowly, and Lexa recognised it as a sign that she could pull away if she wanted, but for some reason she found herself willing to let someone else take control. Anya's fingers closed around her hand, and the motion was careful, it was slow, their fingers intertwined and Lexa tried to settle the beating of her own heart as it began to strum a little more forcefully in her chest.

"Anya," Lexa didn't mean for her voice to sound so breathless, and perhaps she didn't even mean to say anything at all.

But Anya answered her name with a kiss, and it was gentle, it was chaste, so very far removed from the fierce woman Lexa knew during the day. But she found herself falling into the other woman, she found herself pressing forward, sharing heat and space and her free hand came up to cradle the side of Anya's jaw as she angled her head, and as she deepened their connection.

But before too long Anya broke the kiss between them with a hand held against her chest. Lexa didn't realise her eyes had closed until she pulled away and opened them to find herself taking in an equally stunned Anya, eyes half dazed and lips parted ever so slightly before she blinked, before she seemed to steady her own breathing.

"This doesn't mean anything," Anya said after a quiet pause.

"I know," Lexa said, and she knew, she understood the way Anya's eyes hardened just barely, she understood the way Anya's hand that lay over her beating heart didn't seem to give way. And Lexa would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling alone, if she didn't even consider the possibility that she could soon die.

In one slow motion Anya nodded, enough to give Lexa the time to change her mind yet again, enough time to move past her and into her own bed.

But if this was to be Lexa's last night, if this was to be her final moments of calm before dying in a fiery explosion in Earth's upper atmosphere or succumbing to nuclear radiation as soon as she stepped out of the drop ship, then she could be forgiven for seeking whatever comforts she could.

And so Lexa pressed forward, she let her hands snake under Anya's shirt and she began kicking off her boots as she pulled them both to the nearest bed.

Lexa's eyes opened to the dark of her quarters. The slightest buzzing vibrated up her wrist and her vision settled on the face of her watch that showed the hour. It took Lexa a moment longer to remember the night, and as she woke more fully she found herself facing Anya.

Anya lay asleep before her, the woman's hair framing her face, one arm tucked under the pillow beneath her head, the other reaching out between them both in sleep. The curve of Anya's chest seemed to catch the light before it dipped into the covers, and as Lexa let her mind settle she found herself thinking that maybe having a family of her own would have been less burdensome than she had always thought. Or perhaps she simply wished to have been born long before the bombs fell. But she thought neither of those things worthy of dwelling upon for longer than she already had and so she shook those thoughts free and rose from the bed as quietly as she could.

As Lexa stood in what was her shared bedroom for her entire adult life, and even part of her youth, she found a sadness taking hold. It took a moment for her to place just why it was that she felt the sadness, but as her gaze took in the bare of the metal walls, the absence of trinkets and her still made bed, she realised the sadness she felt was because there was a chance that come this time tomorrow, that there would be little for others to remember her by. No family, no parents, both long since floated, no husband, no child. Just her name printed in the remembrance book, another faceless name to have lived on the Ark. Perhaps Anya would be the only person to really miss her. But even Anya had resigned herself to accepting a new roommate, even she had resigned herself to living on the Ark until it could no longer support life.

And that was sad. It was sad because so many people had changed. It was sad for those who had once been dedicated, who had thrown themselves into problem after problem, had always assumed that the Ark was fixable. But when the lack of oxygen wasn't they had broken, crumbled and lost hope.

And Lexa hated it, she hated the acceptance she saw, she hated the resignation in some, she hated the self-pity, the denial, the angers and regrets. And perhaps that was why she volunteered. To make a better place for her people, to give them a chance to survive and to live.

A shiver ran through her naked body and so Lexa moved to where her already packed belongings lay, she slipped on the loose fitting clothes she would wear to the washrooms and she took just one last look at her still neatly made bed and she hoped that whoever would take her place appreciated her parting gift.

The walk to the washrooms was quiet despite the hour. People worked in shifts, the early morning crew already well under way. But despite that, the usual buzz was replaced by a solemness that made her skin crawl, made her want to shy away from the looks of those she passed. It wasn't surprising that the names of those who volunteered had leaked nor was it surprising that the Ark had become quiet and muted. Lexa had even expected it. But she didn't expect the looks. Maybe she was foolish not to. She knew some looked at the volunteers and saw heroes, she knew some looked and saw fools unwilling to accept the bitter truth. And she knew others looked with any number of other thoughts.

But she didn't volunteer for recognition, for pity, for redemption or some ill-placed sense of destiny. And so she tried her best to ignore those she passed as she made her way forward.

The washrooms were utilitarian, bare of most creature comforts that were reserved for the families and for those higher up the command chain. A single long wall dominated the washrooms with shower heads protruding from them with as much brutal simplicity as could be expected for a station pieced together in a panic more than a century ago. Small benches sat in the middle of the washroom, and the other wall held the toilet cubicles and taps. Men and women already moved about, some half dressed, some fully, others bare to the chill and the steaming spray of water.

It didn't take Lexa long to find a free shower head, and as she began to strip she let the familiarity of her motions take control. The water was always too hot, its dual use as the station's heatsink for all the machinery and for showering a simple yet welcomed coincidence for she didn't know what she would do if the Ark had no hot water. Lexa stepped into the spray of heat and she bowed her head enough that the water drummed into the back of her neck and cascaded down her shoulders. As she looked down her body she couldn't help but to grimace at the bite sized bruise she saw already beginning to purple just above her left breast. She didn't quite remember when Anya gave it to her, but she was thankful that it wasn't somewhere more exposed — at least when she was dressed.

"Lexa," her name being spoken startled her and she looked up to find Jackson standing under the spray of water beside her, the man's eyes a little sad, or perhaps he simply squinted past the foam of shampoo dripping from his hair.

"Jackson," Lexa said as she began to massage a small amount of shampoo into her hair.

"I heard," he said, and she watched from the corner of her eye as he turned his own face into the stream, eyes closed as he let the water rinse away the lather. "I—" he paused, perhaps to decide on what to say, perhaps to second guess his intrusion into her quiet. "Good luck," he said instead.

Lexa hummed a response, and she thought that if she said any more, that her own doubts would return. But as the last of the shampoo rinsed from her hair, and as she finished scrubbing away the previous day's grime, she found herself wanting to leave the Ark in better shape than she was leaving it.

"Jackson," she said as she reached out and turned her tap off.

"Yeah?" and he turned to look at her.

"My locker," she said. "Password's epsilon sigma five. I have rations I saved up for a special occasion," and she shrugged as she saw his eyes widen a fraction. "They're yours, I won't be needing them anymore."

Lexa was terrified, she was thrilled, scared and eager. She sat strapped into the drop ship, her pack lay tied down to the floor by her feet and she pressed the back of her head into the cushioned brace that was the only thing stopping her neck from breaking should the drop ship hurtle off course or come to a far too sudden stop. Ninety-nine other volunteers all sat in their own chairs on multiple levels of the drop ship, and as Lexa looked around, she could see the same fears, the same excitement and apprehension on all their faces. She recognised many, some who had yet to start families of their own, she saw those who thought their sacrifice would give the others more time to fix the Ark's problems. She saw those that had nothing left to lose and she saw some, just a few whose faces were determined, whose beliefs she knew were reflective of her own.

The man beside her cursed out quietly as a loud clunk echoed out around them, and Lexa recognised the sound to be the docking station locks separating and preparing to push them free of the Ark before the engines ignited.

"They never said it was going to be this crowded," the man said with a grimace as he looked at her.

"What did you expect?" Lexa said, and she eyed the way he hopelessly tried huffing a clump of sweaty hair away from his eyes.

"Not this," and he shrugged as much as he could in the restraints holding him down. "What team are you with?" he asked as he looked past her and to the others who sat around them.

"I'm leading Alpha team," Lexa said and she cocked her head to the side just a little as she realised she couldn't quite place him.

"Oh," and he smiled something that would have been endearing at any other time. "I got moved from delta to yours," and he reached out to offer her his hand to shake only to give up as the restraints held him back. "Bellamy."

"Lexa," and she eyed him for a moment longer before recognition dawned on her.

"I am," he said, and she saw the resignation, the acceptance for whatever preconceptions she was sure he believed her to have.

"You're—" a lurch made her teeth grit in anticipation. "You aren't to blame," and she saw surprise flash across his face for a moment. "Not for her actions."

Lexa knew she had touched upon a sore topic though for Bellamy looked away, seemed to second guess whatever it was that got him into their current position.

"Why'd you transfer?" perhaps changing topic would help alleviate just a little anxiety. Not that it would help much.

"I punched Delta's team leader," he said with a shrug. "He was talking about my sister, our mother."

Lexa took a moment to take in what Bellamy said, but as she looked at the man, she found herself thinking him trustworthy. She didn't know why, and she didn't even think she trusted her own judgement in the moment. But she knew they would need to get along, that they would need to work together if they were to survive whatever was to come next.

"Welcome aboard, Bellamy," and she saw him smile just slightly, the expression full of relief.

"My pleasure."

And with that the lights turned red, a siren echoed out around them and Lexa saw a woman in the far corner empty her stomach onto her neighbours lap, she saw a few close their eyes and she heard murmurings of the traveller's blessing begin to fill the drop ship's interior as people began to accept whatever future lay in wait.

Lexa looked out the only window she could see from where she sat, and she found herself looking upon a corner of the Ark and through the distance she could see people gathering to watch through a large window. The drop ship gave another angry lurch, and then she felt it begin to slip away from where it had been docked. She watched as the sole sliver of the only place she had called home began to slide from view, but just before it vanished from her sight completely she was sure she saw a woman pushing her way through the crowd of people, and for just one last moment Lexa felt her lips pull into a smile as she recognised Anya, hand pressed against the glass in a lonely farewell.

"May we meet again, Anya," Lexa whispered.

And with that the drop ship's engines ignited and sent Lexa and ninety-nine other volunteers hurtling to the ground.