It had been long enough that Clarke's adrenaline started to fade. It left her feeling exhausted, tired, the pain from her aching body and her blistered feet all the more intense.

Perhaps it helped that she wasn't alone anymore, maybe it was a small comfort that she could look at someone, speak to them despite the language barrier, or even share in a smile or two.

Clarke grimaced slightly as she reached down and carefully undid her boots and pulled them off each foot. Her feet were sore, aching, the freedom they suddenly felt was a relief but Clarke winced as she eyed her bandages. She had been pretty sure she had bled from running away from that pauna and as she stared at her bandaged feet she could see what looked liked dried blood that had seeped through.

She slowly started unwrapping her feet, a frown on her face. She winced every now and then before the bandages were both removed completely. With that done Clarke was left to simply take in her injuries. Whatever blisters had formed had burst. The skin was raw, bloodied, the bite of the air stung and even flexing her feet slightly was enough to make Clarke's eyes twitch.

She knew she didn't have enough supplies with her to clean and re-bandage her feet and she knew it would be a slow and painful walk back to her small camp but she'd make do. She hoped Lexa could give her company at least.

She looked up at her, perhaps in part because in her concentration she had forgotten about the fact that Lexa sat before her, and perhaps in part because she realised it probably wasn't entirely pleasant for Lexa to have to watch whatever Clarke did in her helpless folly.

But rather than any kind of disgust, distain, or dislike she expected to see all Clarke saw was something between worry and caution.

Clarke pursed her lips tightly, she had long since started ignoring the split she seemed to also open and she just shrugged her shoulders.

"Sorry," Clarke said.

She wasn't sure what she apologised for entirely but Lexa didn't seem to care. In fact Lexa's head tilted to the side as if she were curious, intrigued by whatever she saw.

Clarke watched as Lexa pulled her small pack to her and started fishing through it. She watched as a frown formed on Lexa's face for a brief moment before she pulled out a small vial and placed it aside.

"Hod op," Lexa said as she held up a hand.

Clarke wasn't entirely sure what Lexa said but she was content to watch as Lexa stood and walked to the shelves. Lexa reached for one bucket before lifting it carefully and it wasn't until she turned back to face her that Clarke realised the bucket had water in it. Lexa set the bucket down on the floor before she turned back to the shelf and rummaged through some more of the supplies before turning back once more. This time she had what looked like neatly folded strips of fabric in her arms that she settled on the ground just as gently.

Clarke didn't want to assume, she didn't want to think herself deserving of whatever aid she hoped Lexa was about to provide. She remained still, quiet, silent as she watched Lexa slowly organise the fabric, the small vial of something and the bucket.

Eventually Lexa seemed satisfied for she nodded to herself before looking up at her. Clarke wondered what Lexa thought of her in that moment. It was clear that Lexa and presumably her people used this bunker as a refuge, it was clear they anticipated needing supplies and it was clear they were at least willing to help her, to help a stranger, someone who must have been so strange, so bizarre, perhaps even a threat.

Or maybe it was just Lexa who was the one willing to help. Clarke hadn't seen anyone else but she assumed and perhaps hoped that Lexa's people could help. Would help.

Lexa gestured at her feet then and Clarke smiled tightly as she slowly extended both her legs. Clarke watched as Lexa reached out slowly. Her hands were strong as she gripped one ankle and lifted her leg up into the air enough that she could look at her soles. Clarke blushed a little bit at the simple fact that anyone, let alone a woman not much older than her was inspecting her feet so closely even if their intentions were purely medical.

But Clarke pushed that thought aside as Lexa slowly put her foot down and reached for the other. It took just a moment longer before Lexa reached for her supplies. Clarke watched as she unwrapped one of the bandages, before dipping it into the water.

Lexa said something to her that Clarke didn't understand, but from the way Lexa gestured at her blisters and made a face Clarke thought she knew what Lexa meant to do.

Clarke grit her teeth and just nodded her head. Lexa took hold of her ankle again but this time it was firmer, harsh, her grip was far stronger than Clarke expected. Lexa seemed to lock her ankle into place before she started dabbing her blisters with the cloth. Clarke whimpered. There was a burning, stinging pain that raced through her wounds. She felt her eyes twitch and water and her breath quickened enough that her chest began to rise and fall rapidly. But the pain disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

And yet Lexa wasn't done. Clarke whined as Lexa reached for her other foot and repeated the motions. Clarke's fingernails dug into her palms as she clenched her hands into fists, the knew she cursed quietly under her breath and she tried not to instinctively pull her leg away as Lexa cleaned her injuries with firm deftness.

Clarke realised Lexa wasn't done though because she watched her reach for the vial, pop off the small lid and then pour some of what looked like a pale green paste onto a fresh cloth.

Lexa began moving towards her injuries only to stop briefly. Lexa's eyes met hers and Clarke could see an apology in her stare before she continued.

More pain came next. The paste stung, it burnt, it seemed to wriggle into the very fibres of Clarke's feet. She let out a gasp of pain and her leg almost pulled away before Lexa somehow swivelled where she sat and pinned both her legs to the ground as she straddled her shins with her knees.

Lexa's hands were firm, her motions sure, strong, commanding as she worked over Clarke's injuries. And perhaps Clarke could be forgiven for thinking it torture or punishment that was to last an age for it hurt. It somehow hurt more than she thought possible as whatever Lexa applied truly, truly burnt into her skin.

But just as the pain had subsided from her cleaning her feet, so too did the pain subside from the paste.

And Clarke didn't notice it at first, she didn't notice it at second or third but eventually Clarke realised she began not to feel her feet, that the paste began to numb the pain, numb the feeling and the aches and stabbing in her blisters.

Clarke's breathing slowed, her eyes stopped twitching and watering and her clenched jaw lessened as Lexa slowly moved off her shins and sat back down onto the ground with measured poise.

Clarke looked at her feet. In the pain she hadn't noticed that Lexa had applied fresh bandages but as she stared at her feet she found herself marvelling at the way Lexa had wrapped them, had tied them off almost unnoticeably and Clarke knew not why she thought Lexa must have done this countless times but she did.

Clarke looked up at Lexa to find her staring at her carefully. There was something in her eyes Clarke couldn't quite grasp. Perhaps there was curiosity, perhaps there was a cunning within her gaze that told Clarke that Lexa was calculating, studying, trying to figure out who she was.

Clarke didn't blame her. She knew in her own eyes must have been just as much visible to the woman.

But above all, Clarke was thankful. She was thankful that Lexa was willing to help, was willing to share in whatever supplies her people had. Clarke knew it couldn't be easy to survive on the ground. Not without the technology lost to bombs, not with beasts as large as that pauna. Not with beasts as deadly as whatever had been in the river.

"Thank you," Clarke whispered to Lexa. She hoped Lexa understood.

Lexa's gaze held hers for a long moment and Clarke was sure she could see understanding and recognition in her eyes.

"Mochof," Lexa said just as quietly. "Mochof."

Clarke felt her lips smile a little more freely as she realised what Lexa said.

"Mochof," Clarke repeated and though she knew her pronunciation must have been off she saw Lexa return the smile.

"Sha," Lexa said.

Clarke decided she'd let her feet rest then. She'd have time to return them to the confines of her boot but they were numb and she wanted to give them as much time as possible to breathe. She looked at the small vial of paste though and curiosity grew within her just a little.

"Can I?" Clarke asked and she reached for the vial slowly.

"Sha," Lexa said, her eyes following Clarke's hand.

"Mochof," Clarke said quickly and she was rewarded by a small twinkle in Lexa's eyes before she picked up the vial and held it up to the light streaming in from the few small cracks overhead.

Clarke eyed the paste. She couldn't tell what it was but it was thick, more dense than paint. She held it up to her nose and sniffed it carefully only to frown as she realised she had on idea what it smelled like.

"What is it?" Clarke asked as she stared down into the vial then. "A root? Plant mixed with something?" curiosity was taking hold within her mind now. She found herself marvelling at the fact that Lexa's people had discovered, learnt how to survive, to thrive. This was what Clarke's people would need. This was who they would need to help them learn the ways of the ground. "I bet its—"

But Clarke stopped herself from continuing as she looked up at Lexa as she realised she had been talking, asking questions to the woman.

"Sorry," Clarke said with an awkward grimace. "I—" she sighed. "You don't understand me, do you."

"Nou," Lexa said with a simple shrug of her own and Clarke laughed.

"I'm not that obvious, am I?" Clarke asked but it didn't surprise her that Lexa could get the gist of what she was saying. It was clear Lexa was smart, intelligent, careful and observant but the simple answer just made Clarke laugh a little more.

Clarke watched as Lexa's lip twitched up at the corners slightly before the expression settled down.

Clarke didn't mean to but in the quieter moment she found herself looking at the woman in front of her. She wasn't entirely sure how old Lexa was. It was hard to judge her age through whatever paint of camouflage cascaded down her cheeks. It was black, thick, inky. The black painted on claw marks that etched themselves down her cheeks from her eyes seemed so ferocious, fearsome. Clarke wondered what they meant.

Perhaps they were a message, a symbol that meant something to Lexa's people. Clarke wondered if others had similar markings, if they had identical markings or if it was simply something close to fashion where each single person could choose what their's looked like.

Clarke didn't mean to stare, she didn't mean to become lost in Lexa's face, in the paint, the green eyes that looked back at her but eventually she realised, eventually she found herself acutely aware that she had been looking at Lexa with something close to rude intensity.

Clarke blushed and quickly looked away.

"I—" she started before shaking her head for a brief second. "I was just looking at your paint," Clarke said once she looked back at Lexa. "It's fascinating," Clarke added as she gestured up to her own face and drew the same markings across her own cheeks.

Lexa seemed to understand some of what she said. Clarke watched as Lexa paused for a brief moment before she reached for the bucket of water and brought it closer to her. She then dipped an unused bandage into it before she brought it up to her face and slowly started wiping at the paint.

"I didn't mean for you to remove it," Clarke said quietly.

Lexa's only response was to look at her intently as she continued to slowly remove the paint. Her motions were sure, familiar and Clarke knew Lexa must have done this so many times before. And perhaps that told Clarke something, perhaps that gave her a little more insight into Lexa and her people.

But for the moment whatever that insight was she couldn't quite tell. Not yet, at least. But for some reason Clarke was certain she'd find out one day.

Eventually Lexa removed all the paint save for just a little that smudged into the faintest hints of an eyeshadow that made the colour of her eyes appear more vibrant than Clarke had expected.

And it was strange. Clarke found herself staring at Lexa perhaps more honestly than she had ever looked at the woman who had saved her life.

Without the paint, without the ferocity of dripping black marks that clawed down her cheeks Lexa looked young. She looked youthful. Closer to Clarke's age than she had expected.

Perhaps there was a wisdom in her eyes, perhaps there was a tenacity and a formidability within the way she held her face. But Lexa was no more than a year or two older than Clarke. She was sure of what.

And perhaps that made Clarke wonder a little about what life was like on the ground. Perhaps that made Clarke consider that life must have been harsh, violent, dangerous. Clarke could see that Lexa had spent years living the life she had lived despite her age.

But just with every other discovery since coming down to the ground, Clarke knew she and her people would adapt. They would need to in order to survive.

Clarke lost track of how much time they spent in the bunker. She thought it must have been more than a few hours. Some of that time was spent in awkward conversation where words were not understood. At other times it was simply spent in quiet as Clarke or Lexa let their thoughts wander.

Clarke was tired, too. She hadn't realised it but her eyes had grown heavier and heavier until she started to doze off. She didn't fight it, in part because she had nothing better to do and in part because she thought she was as safe as could be expected given their current predicament.

But Clarke was woken by a firm hand on her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open to find Lexa leaning over her, her eyes a little more serious before she pulled her hand away from her shoulder and gestured upwards.

The next thing Clarke noticed was that Lexa had collected what little belongings she had and Clarke knew the time had come to leave.

It took her only a minute or two to put her boots back on before she came to stand next to Lexa. Clarke watched as she reached up and carefully began unlocking the hatch to the bunker overhead. There was a slightly squeak of metal protesting the movements before a crack of light began to shine down from the outside world.

Clarke felt apprehension and worry beginning to gnaw in her stomach at the fact they were about to venture out into the world again but Lexa didn't seem entirely too worried. She simply paused with the hatch half open as she appeared to listen for anything out of place but all Clarke heard was a birdcall that seemed to come as soon as the hatch opened.

But perhaps the present of the birdcall was enough of a sign for Lexa because she pushed the hatch open if a quiet grunt of effort. Lexa turned back to face her before pointing to the now half empty bucket of dirty water. Clarke reached down and picked it up before passing it to Lexa who swung it up out of the bunker and out into the forest floor before she pulled herself up after it.

Clarke moved towards the hatch and began reaching for the edge of the hatch opening to lift herself up before Lexa reached back down and held out a hand for her. Clarke didn't need to be asked twice before she took hold of Lexa's hand and began to lift—

Clarke yelped in surprise as Lexa lifted her out of the bunker with far more strength than Clarke anticipated. She almost spilled out from the bunker hatch onto her face on forest floor before catching herself.

And so Clarke took a second to steady herself before she stood. The forest was just like it had been. Quiet. Calm. A gentle breeze whistled through the trees and the leaves overhead dappled light onto the ground in marvellous patterns of sunlight.

Clarke thought it beautiful, she thought it once unimaginable and she hoped she'd find the time to take in the forest when it was safer.

Clarke's thoughts were broken by the sound of the hatch being closed. She turned to find Lexa shutting it before pushing dirt and debris over the top as if to hide it from prying eyes. Clarke was happy to stand and watch and take in everything Lexa did until she was satisfied.

Lexa eventually stepped back, the bucket emptied onto the forest floor now held in her hand and her eyes scanning outwards briefly.

Clarke didn't entirely know what to do in this moment. She hadn't quite thought about how they would part ways or if they'd stay together or what exactly she was supposed to do. She needed to communicate with Lexa that her people needed help. She needed to communicate with Lexa that she needed to see whoever was in charge of whoever Lexa lived with. Clarke had to assume there was a society, a village, a tribe, clan maybe even a country if they still existed out there somewhere.

"Lexa," Clarke said. She knew she needed to say or communicate all those things.

"Klark," Lexa answered.

"My people," Clarke said. "Me," she gestured to herself. "There are more of me," she gestured outward. "One of me," she held up a single single before pointing to herself again. "My people," she held up her hands, all ten fingers splayed apart before gesturing as if to indicate multiples of ten in the hopes that Lexa would understand. "My people are up there," she pointed up into the sky and she hoped beyond hope that Lexa would understand in some way the fact that people could live in the sky.

Clarke stared at Lexa intently for a long moment hoping she'd understand but all she saw was Lexa's face frowning slightly as she seemed to be trying to figure something out.

"Ai kru," Lexa said eventually. She pointed to herself. "Ai kru. Ai stegeda," she pointed in a particular direction quite forcefully. "Ai laik Lexa," she said and pointed to herself again. "Ai kru," she pointed back in that same direction. "Ai stegeda. Ton DC," Lexa said.

Clarke frowned. She watched Lexa's lips intently as she tried to understand. But she knew Lexa spoke intently about herself before pointing to a certain point. And maybe Clarke was being hopeful, optimistic, desperate even, but the words were similar to english. Similar enough that she hoped she could make educated guesses.

"Ai laik Clarke," she said slowly and pointed to herself.

"Sha," Lexa said.

"Ai kru," Clarke pointed upwards. "Ai kru," she pointed up again.

Lexa followed her gesture and looked up into the sky before she looked back at her.

"Ai stegeda," Lexa said said again and pointed in that particular direction. "Ton DC."

"Ton DC," Clarke repeated the words slowly. And she didn't know why. She didn't know how it clicked in her mind but she realised in that very moment what Ton DC might mean.

"Washington DC?" Clarke asked. "Washington DC?" she repeated and reached into her backpack and pulled out her tablet. "Yes," she hissed under her breath as it turned on to show far more than enough battery power left for what she'd need.

Clarke glanced up at Lexa to find her eyes narrow as she looked at the tablet in her hands.

"Let me show you something," Clarke gestured for her to come closer.

Lexa stepped forward so that she could look at the screen.

Clarke smiled as she pulled up her map of the area and slowly panned around until she found what she was looking for.

Washington DC

The point on the map indicated the old city. It showed old roads, highways, places that had once existed. It showed rivers, lakes, and if Clarke zoomed out even more she knew it would show Mount Weather and even the dam—

Lexa gasped as she saw the map. She gasped as she reached out and snatched it from Clarke's hands with wide eyes.

Clarke probably should have been more protective of her only way of getting around but she couldn't help but to smile at the wonder in Lexa's eyes as she stared at the map.

"Ton DC," Lexa said quickly as she pointed to Washington DC. Clarke watched her look at the screen intently before pointing to a certain point on the map not too far away from Washington DC , "Osir," and then she pointed to them and around the forest. "Ton DC," she pointed back to the point on the map. "Osir," she pointed to them.

"Us?" Clarke asked and pointed between them both. "Osir?" she looked at Lexa. "Us? That's where we are?" She pointed to the spot on her tablet's screen.

"Sha," Lexa nodded.

Clarke felt her own lips turning into a brighter smile as she realised she had got somewhere. It was a start. More than a start. It was a hand reached out to a stranger who could really truly help and Clarke wouldn't let that go without a fight.

"I need to contact my people," Clarke said. She pointed upwards. "Ai kru," she said. "Talk," she held up her hand a mimicked talking with her fingers. "Talk?"

Lexa stared at her for a fraction of a second before answering.

"Chich," Lexa said.

Clarke knew what she was about to say was probably going to sound completely stupid to Lexa but she didn't care.

"Ai chich ai kru," Clarke fought not to laugh given the seriousness of the situation as her words settled within Lexa's mind only for the woman to frown before she too laughed.

But despite that Lexa nodded and she seemed to understand. She pointed to her mouth. "Chich," she pointed to Clarke's mouth. "Chich."

"Yeah," Clarke said. "Talk," Clarke said.

Lexa seemed to think for a second before she spoke next.

"Tolk," Lexa said and the word was odd on her lips but Clarke knew exactly what Lexa meant to say. "Chich."

Clarke smiled more widely than she had done before. "Talk, Lexa. My people. Ai kru. I need to talk, chich with them."

"Sha," Lexa answered. "Tolk Klark kru," Lexa said and held up two fingers before lifting the empty bucket and shaking it and holding up one single finger. "Fos," she gestured to the bucket again, "seken, Klark kru."

Clarke was thankful for she could tell Lexa spoke simply for her so that she could understand. She understood more than she thought she would. The words were so close, so very close to english that Clarke hoped that meant that their people could learn from each other easily. There'd be challenges, of course, but Clarke wouldn't let whatever those were to be get in the way.

"Ok," Clarke said with a nod. "Sha," she gestured to the bucket. "Fos the bucket," it was only fair that they resupply the bunker for whoever needed it next. It had been the thing to help save her life after all, "seken chich ai kru."

And with that Lexa smiled and nodded.