Chapter Text
His throat still stung with each breath, yet the memory of the bruises shading his throat strung even more.
Right now, he faced the line of primes waiting for a reaction. Waiting for them to end his misery the way Josephine ended Kaylee. Waiting for them to decide the next logical step. Waiting for them to realize they may have lost the only thing keeping them alive.
He waited and waited and waited until his head lulled to the sides heavy with all the anticipation and every thought blazing and burning through his brain. He could not wait any longer, but the voices melded together. It was so difficult to keep it all straight when he could barely breathe and his head pounded.
“What are we going to do with him?”
“I can’t believe we are having this conversation.”
“He can’t go on unpunished. He allowed strangers into our home knowing they could be the answer to our situation, and he abused that knowledge to bring back his daughter. Clarke should have been Jasmine! She was next in line.”
“He explained why he did it. Jasmine is a wonderful girl, Miranda. But she is no spy! We all know Josie would have been better suited to find more hosts. Still, he broke the sacred tradition.”
“Consent was the only thing keeping us from being…God knows what awful thing. He shouldn’t have taken her. If he hadn’t, they would still be here. For that, he needs punishment. We can’t have Russel taking whatever he damn pleases!”
“He’s the reason we are all here! Without him, you would all have been forgotten. You would have been nothing.”
“Simone, we understand he is your husband much like we understood how breaking the rules for Josephine seemed reasonable, but Russel…he did something he shouldn’t have.”
“You should all be grateful. Without him, we would be gone.”
Leaning in the corner, Ryker finally joined the conversation, “If that is all it takes for forgiveness, then why do we hate Gabriel so much? I mean he was the one that figured it out in the first place, so…technically, we wouldn’t be here without Gabriel.”
“Ryker!”
He pushed himself off the wall and strode toward the rather small collective, “What, mother? It’s the truth. We hate him because he no longer wanted us to keep taking lives, so we could keep living. And, now, we are arguing over or not Russel crossed a line because the life he took wasn’t willing. But, let’s be honest, the only reason anyone has ever been willing is because we have convinced them that we are some sort of deities instead of the scientists we are supposed to be.”
“What are you saying?”
Looking at all of the faces he should recognize, he knew this may be the last life he would ever get, “I am saying that whatever they decide to do…we may deserve it.” He gazed over at Russel attempting to stand as tall and regal as always, “We may finally see our end, but don’t you think we have lived long enough. Not that my opinion is going to matter, because they are going to come back and ruin us. I mean after they get Clarke back.”
Priya stepped through her peers to reach her son, “Ryker, what are you saying?”
Russel cleared his throat, “He is saying what I told you. We needed to be careful because they burned through their last world and now, they will burn this one. It’s why Josie was supposed to be the one to figure it out. But something went wrong.”
“Yeah, they are much smarter than you thought and you messed up by taking Clarke without her permission. Consent is key, right Russel?”
Simone stepped in, “It was now or never. They wouldn’t understand, and given the Children of Gabriel, they had no reason to tells us if they had people with black blood.”
“Or, maybe they would have if they were given a chance, but we don’t know. And we never will now that we’ve taken their leader. You could not have been dumber.”
Standing tall now, breaths still burning, Russel defended himself, “You have no idea what is going on Ryker. Even if they have Josie now. You and I both know Josephine will come back to us.”
“She won’t.”
Miranda turned to look at Ryker with her eyes wide and confused, “What do you mean?”
“Clarke’s still in there, and she’s going to get out. When she does, are you ready to face whatever that means? Because I’m ready for whatever comes.”
The silence grew and told him they may not be as ready to leave life behind as he was.
---
It was too quiet.
Every breath banged in her head as the throbbing got worse and worse. Her hair stuck to her neck as she sweltered. Something was very wrong with her. Something was very wrong with them. Everything was off by less than a margin but just enough to make her sick.
And, it was all too damn quiet.
“Can someone say something! This silence is just too much. I mean I am all for the dramatic reveal, but you bitches have even ruined that.”
Her voice grabbed Raven out of her stupor and settled her into reality. She just could not believe the story Bellamy and Murphy and Jordan told her. Clarke was not dead. She was in front of her. There was no way. Everything about this planet was supposed to bring them peace and joy and something worth the loss of all those she left and left her. If this were true, she knew nothing. And Clarke was gone and still here, a juxtaposition too strong for her to handle. It knocked her on her side with no air left in her lungs.
Josephine wore Clarke’s face rather well. She looked as beautiful as ever, blonde hair loose and blue eyes shining. Even with her aggravation drawn in her frown, she was a sight to see as always.
Raven loathed that about Clarke. It was just another thing she had over everyone else. Without much effort, Clarke Griffin captivated the world and everyone in it. Then, she dared to be smart in a sharp, unsettling way, in a way that bent history to her whim. Clarke possessed everything needed to become a legend.
A brave, beautiful girl, all golden-haired and golden-hearted, unafraid of the darkness, fought her way into mythology. She became the story people tell at night to encourage others to pursue greatness and to warn them of the dangers lurking when one gets to close to the sun.
Luckily for Clarke, her black blood helped with any of the burns.
Despite her rather perfect face, something was off. Her frown was cutting and her eyes were hollow. Her lips twisted much too easily, and the blue twinkled much too dark. Her voice was half a pitch off, while every word felt awkward to all those listening.
Raven did not want to believe it, but every breath proved them more right. Clarke Griffin and all her impossibilities died when Raven was not looking. She died when Raven was nothing more than a bitter, angry version of the friend Clarke had. She died when Raven left her alone.
Guilt crept its way as it always did and Raven crushed it with self-righteousness.
Now, they surrounded a foreign, familiar Clarke tied to a wall, déjà vu present in every moment. Raven knew this feeling. They all knew this feeling.
She spoke directly to her pretty face, “Can you please shut it? We are thinking.” Directing it to Bellamy and Murphy, she continued, “You said Ryker thinks Clarke’s still in there. How do we get her out?”
“Ryker is an idiot who wants to get into your pants. You really shouldn’t believe a word he says.”
Murphy snarks, “Well, every one of us has thought about getting into Raven’s pants. Bellamy actually did! Can’t really blame the guy. And, anyway, we aren’t actually known for being geniuses. I mean we did blow up our planet and barely noticed that Clarke was gone, sooooo…”
“Murphy stop talking.”
Josephine’s grin popped the tension again, “No, please continue. Tell me more.”
Bellamy attempted to draw attention to himself. He extended his shoulders and crossed his arms. He was fierce and ferocious, “Ryker told us something was different about you. That he believed Clarke could be brought back. You’re going to help us.”
Unmoved, Josephine simply stared, “You don’t get it. Clarke is gone. You neglected her long enough for my parents to sneak in and snatch her right from under your noses. They didn’t even think you would notice. Tension, they said. You had a lot of tension.”
Raven clenched her teeth and flared her nostrils, “Shut up. You don’t even know what you’re saying. You don’t…”
“I don’t…what…understand. Maybe I don’t know the whole story, but I do know that Jordan was busy looking into Delilah while the rest of you kept on living in my home. And you, Raven, you actively avoided me.” Raven flinched. Her eyes closed so she did not see the smirk displayed on Clarke’s face but she heard it in Josephine’s tone, “It must be hard to hear me while you see the face of someone you despised enough to avoid. Now, they actually are asking you to save her.”
“I didn’t hate her. I was angry and I…I didn’t hate her.”
“Well, you could have fooled me. Not that it matters, she’s dead and all you have is me.” Again, the difference between Josephine and Clarke blazed through as everything about her hardened and chilled, “And I’m going to make sure you regret ever getting involved in something you had no business in.”
They grew still. All three of them unsure of how to proceed but all of them ready to fight, to burn it all, when Miller strolled in, “We found them. They were together actually, Diyoza and Octavia. They must have found each other. We are flying in their direction as we speak.” Not a soul acknowledged him until he said, “They aren’t alone.”
Three heads shot toward him, Bellamy asked, “What do you mean?”
“There appears to be a third person near the area. We aren’t sure if they are all together, but they are close enough in range for it to be an issue if they’re not.”
Josephine interrupted them, “Well, it looks like you’ll meet the Children of Gabriel much faster than you thought. Good luck.”
Murphy narrowed in on her, “Ryker said we need them to get Clarke back.”
“And like I said, Ryker is an idiot. If you think they are going to let this body live, you’re wrong. They want to destroy us and any possibility of us which includes any and all hosts.”
Miller’s steely demeaner remained as he stilled. No words could ever articulate the hatred raging underneath his skin. It boiled and bubbled right at the surface threatening to spill over and blaze through everything. He lost so much, and the thought of losing something else hurt.
It hurt more when her blue eyes bore into him with indifference. Even when he arrested her, when he chained her, when he abandoned her, Clarke Griffin never looked at him with indifference. She never even looked at him with disdain. Her eyes always remained gentle and loving, a sea of calm.
He turned to face Bellamy again, “We think they were already looking for the Children of Gabriel, so they may be able to speed up the process. Jordan and Emori say we’ll land in the next ten or so minutes. They just have to find a good spot.”
Bellamy nodded and Miller felt dismissed. With one more glance toward Josephine, he exited without much fanfare. Saying no extra words. Wasting no time. Leaving no room for mockery.
A smirk again gracing her face, Josephine said, “I’ll make sure to paint all of you as a way to remember this moment.”
Murphy, unimpressed and unfazed, snarked, “Yeah, well, maybe Clarke will draw you as a way to let you go. That way, we can burn you out of existence. I’m sure it will be fun.”
Josephine’s snide comment froze them, “Well, I’m not sure whether to be alarmed at your need to kill me or to be turned on. I’m leaning toward turned on seeing as you are rather cute.” Blank faces stared at her, “What?”
Nothing. Silence wormed its way back into the room. Tilted head, Josephine scanned her surrounding to measure everyone in the quiet. Every movement she made reminded them of how little of Clarke was left. This rather imitation of her dulled everything that made Clarke exceptional.
Josephine, though smart and calculating, was nothing more than another villain in a long list of evildoers. Despite her best attempts, Josephine Lightbourne would never be extraordinary.
Just then, Abby entered the room, “We landed. Echo and Miller both volunteered to go get them. We think one of you should go with them in case something goes wrong.”
Murphy snapped, “I’ll go.”
“Oh, come on, John! Don’t you want to stay with me?”
One glance at Josephine’s toothy grin and Murphy railed in the need to run out the door, “Yeah, no, I’m not staying with you.”
Josephine clicked her tongue and moved her head to tilt from the other side as to say his loss before she slid her eyes toward Bellamy to Abby and back. She settled for Raven.
A single corner of her mouth lifted and her voice rasped, “Well, what do you think grease monkey? Should I be offended?”
“Stop.”
The corner rose higher, “Stop? Stop what? I’m just trying to get laid here. Oh, oh! Consent is key! Ugh! You are all just like my dad. Clarke is dead, and yes, this was her body, but it’s mine now. So…I can do whatever I want with it.”
“Stop!”
Rolling her head back in pure annoyance, Josephine barked, “Get off your damn high horse, Reyes. You think you’re better than me than the primes but you’re not. I heard the stories. Raven Reyes can make anything go boom. I am certain you’ve killed more people than I have. I just don’t run from it.”
Her smile came from both sides of her lips, “I’m done with humanity. It’s weak and small and short. And, let’s not forget boring. Besides, the only reason you think you’ve kept your humanity and your pride and whatever else your self-righteous ass thinks you have, it’s because of this badass bitch I’m wearing. She’s smarter than you and better than you and she’s super hot. And without her, you won’t be able to do whatever plan you think you have to get her back.”
Silence. Just silence greeted them as Josephine cackled and taunted them with a truth everyone knew but no one wanted to admit. “She’s always been the brains, the one with the plan that always works because she listens and cares and I don’t know what. But, she’s dead now. Sucks to suck.”
Abby swallowed. Fisting, she eased her anger down her throat. It was not her daughter’s voice. It was someone else. Her words were never so unfeeling.
She was to say something when Josephine began to moan, “God, my head kills.” Everything blurred and tasted like rust. Black blood spurted from her mouth before her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Abby sprinted toward her catching her as she convulsed, “Raven, go get Jackson. Bellamy, hold her head.”
She shook and shook. Blood covered the lower half of her face. Jackson burst through the doors with his medical kit.
Bellamy stroked her hair as he waited for more instruction. As soon as the seizures slowed, he lifted her and took her to the makeshift medical bay. She would convulse again and then they would stop. Start and stop again. Over and over. He could not bring himself to leave despite knowing he was in the way.
There Abby and Jackson scurried around him as he stared at her. Between the two of them, they calmed the seizures. Still, darkness took her and there was no way of knowing if they were ever getting her back.
---
Clarke attempted to fight for as long as she could.
Seeing all of her nightmares consecutively trapped her, paralyzed her in a way very much new to her. She never had much difficulty thinking ahead of her enemies, not after Lexa’s betrayal at Mount Weather. Never again would she be left at the mercy of others because she was too trusting, too naïve to understand the rules of war.
Wells was always the better chess player, but she was always a quicker study.
Now, she needed to learn faster than ever before. This was her space. This was her mind. She knew that now. It took her a while to see it.
The pain slowed her, but eventually, she recognized the patterns. How guilt brought her back to Mount Weather. How hopelessness brought her back to the wasteland. How loneliness brought her back to chains and a dark room.
She would do it all differently now, and this nightmare would never let her.
Everything trembled as she attempted to control her breathing. Her lips quivered as air passed her mouth and her nostrils flared with each breath out. She squeezed her fist and wrinkled her forehead willing for it all to stop.
Despite all the pain, she escaped the worst of her fears. She placed them deep in her mind, a place even she forgot existed.
She quickly turned to see the metal door in the corner. It resembled many a door from the ark, but she knew this one led to the beginning. It led to the time before everything, the thing that started it all. Her cell door stopped all of her nightmares from invading her mind in the same manner in which they barricaded her from all her loved ones back on the ark.
She turned away from the door and concentrated on her breathing again.
It seemed to numb her to the agony of her existence until something catapulted into her. It was a force of pure anger.
“Why couldn’t you just die!”
Clarke finally peaked through the jumbled limbs to see the face of a pretty blonde. Josephine struggled on top of her attempting to kill.
Clarke remembered Anya in all her fierce glory. With that memory, she grabbed both Josephine’s wrist and moved her head forwarded. The momentum pushed Josephine back allowing for Clarke to shimmy under her and kick her even further back.
Nose bloody, Josephine stumbled up and raged forward. Clarke blocked her wrapping her arm around her neck. She kneed her one, two, three, four times before releasing her and punching her in the face. Josephine twisted to the right.
Heaving, Clarke said, “You should know that I’m not much of a fighter, but if I’m going down, I’m going to make it hurt.”
Spitting out blood, Josephine gave a dry chuckle, “We both don’t get to play with this body. It will die. It is technically dying. And if I don’t get it, I’ll make sure it does. I’ll just get backed up by my mind drive, and you’ll just disappear like the insignificant thing you are.”
“A lot of people, a lot of the things have tried to kill me, but I’m still here and a lot of them aren’t. What makes you think you’re any different?”
Her teeth were white when she said, “I’m worshipped like a god. What are you?”
“I’m the person kicking your ass.”
Chortle in the air, Josephine slanted her head and placed a hand on her hips, “Really, well then, let’s see what you do when I open that door.”
“Josephine…”
Twirling her hair, she sneered, “What, I have decades on you. I know exactly how this works, and you while impressive, still have so much to learn.”
Those words rang and the metal door appeared next to Josephine. She opened it, and everything burned. The death waved came for them. Then, it was just a tall post with a knife. Then, it was an empty throne. Everything whizzed passing them until it all became a blurry mess of memories.
There was more. More things she packed away. Secrets she never uttered. Moments she wanted to ignore.
As they invaded the space, Clarke collided into her straight to the ground. They wrestled. She remembered what her father told her. She remembered what Monty asked of her. She remembered all of them. Most importantly, she remembered the loss and pain and blood she wanted to forget.
All of these memories gave her the strength for one last punch.
Standing, she saw Josephine’s face all bloody and beaten. Relief settled into her belly but it did not last as Josephine’s body evaporated. She took everything with her. All Clarke had left was the brightness of white around her and the metal door.
She spun attempting to find something that could answer her questions. Nothing surrounded her, but the door.
Time moved differently her, so she was unsure how much time passed when someone came forward.
Startled, her breath hitched and her heart hammered in her chest until she saw the figure’s face much more clearly. Tears swelled in her eyes and she nearly lost her balance. Instead, she simply whispered his name.
Her voice watery and uneven uttered, “Wells.”
A smile broke on his face and his tone light, he laughed, “Clarke, you never did make anything easy. Still, worth it though.”
She choked on a laugh and rammed into him for a hug.
He continued, “I don’t have much time, but you need to be careful. She’s going to come back.”
“Wells, please…I…”
He held her by her upper arms and looked directly in her eyes. His smile showed a gentle love, “I want to spend time here with you, but you can’t. You can’t waste it. You have to be ready.”
“Be ready for what?”
“Josephine. She’s not going to stop, not with you. You can’t let her win.”
“Wells, I can’t. I don’t know how, and I’m stuck here.”
“Clarke Griffin has never been stuck anywhere. You’re smarter than that. You are stronger than that. Josephine Lightbourne has nothing on you.” He ended it with a breathy chuckle.
She shook her head and reached out to touch him more, “I missed you. We never really had a chance. And you’re here and not there. Maybe this was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be you and me. And now it can be.”
“Clarke…”
Shaking free, she lifted her arms and spewed, “They won, Wells! They won. She already won. I’m stuck in my own head living the worst parts of life over and over again. All of these mistakes I wish I could just let go. But, I can’t. They took my body and all I have is my mind. And, I’m not you. You would have done things so differently. You would have been so much better.”
“Clarke, you can’t…”
“I can’t what…give up. There is nothing left. You heard her. I’m dying! She won. I lost this time. Please let me go with you. I wasn’t there for you, and maybe this too much to ask, but please be there for me.”
Shaking his head, Wells said, “No…I remember when my dad was teaching us how to play chess. You hated how I always beat you. You couldn’t have that, so we kept playing until you won. And you kept winning. I rarely beat you again. You lost, Clarke. You lost a lot, but this is it. This is your turning point. You have to keep going. You have to get up and win.”
Much like Josephine before him, he evaporated leaving her alone. A knot in her chest, she moved her chin upward with her eyes closed. Tears in the corner of her eyes freed themselves as she blinked.
Echoes of Wells’ last words sang in her mind and a squeak of a door grabbed her attention. Unafraid, she ambled her way toward the metal door and walked right through it.
---
Xavier grew tired of the suspicious looks thrown his way. He was working on Clarke the way they asked, but their expressions caused him to stumble. His nerves were already elevated, and the impatience vibrating in the room did not help.
Madi tucked herself into Clarke’s eerily still arm as Abby loomed not too far from them. Jackson stood near medical equipment attempting to appear busy, while Bellamy switched between an intimidating pace and a brooding stare from the corner. Xavier insisted everyone else wait outside. He wanted everyone to wait outside, but he knew he needed medical expertise and the other two simply would not be moved.
Bellamy huffed, “Why isn’t she waking up?”
Xavier wiped his hands and stood up, “I can’t give you much here. They’ve never brought anyone back. All we can do is wait.”
And wait they did for hours until Clarke’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned.
All the voices melded together all saying a variation of her name. They boomed and overwhelmed her in the worst possible way.
Clarke moaned again moving her hands to her face. She attempted to cover her ears to keep them from ringing, but the lights also hurt her eyes. She could not make up her mind what to protect. Instead, she groaned some more and blinked as her eyes adjusted. She pushed herself up saying, “Can you all stop yelling? My head kills.”
A commotion erupted and chaos ensued. Clarke remembered nothing as bodies weaved in and out, as lips moved up and down. Time passed and she experienced it all in a fog. They asked questions and she gave them as much as she could.
Eventually, they hurried themselves out to give her quiet. As the door shut, it crashed into her. She scurried away from the emptiness of being alone, away from the voices in her head telling her she deserved it and the faces she left there tempting her with something she could never have.
She scurried away just to find more voices speaking.
“So, it’s his fault we are in this mess in the first place.”
“Murphy…”
“What! You saw the video. Gabriel created the primes, and yeah, he changed his mind, but that doesn’t negate the other thing. It’s still a fact. He cheated death, and Clarke paid for it with her life.”
“She’s alive in the other room. Besides, he also saved her.”
“Doesn’t mean he should get rewarded with Josephine’s mind drive, Diyoza.”
“Doesn’t mean we should just dismiss it, Reyes.”
“He lied about who he was and now he just wants to keep her.”
“Madi, it’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. Josephine tried to kill Clarke. We kill her.”
Having heard enough, Clarke stepped in, “No, we don’t. Kill Josephine that is. Not if we want to be better, and we owe it to Monty, to Harper, to everyone we left on Earth to be better.”
They all peered at her, but Madi was the one that spoke, “No! She should die for what she did, and she will. Who are you to stop me?”
Clarke shook her head, “We don’t kill for revenge. We don’t just waste life like that, and if you can’t see the difference, you shouldn’t be making these choices.”
“I’m the commander.”
Straightening herself, Clarke marched toward her daughter, “Not right now, you’re not.” She turned to look at Gabriel and stepped toward him, “You don’t have to do it. I know what it’s like to kill someone you love for something like this. It will break you.” She reached him and covered his hand with hers, the one holding Josephine, “You have enough guilt on your conscience. Don’t add to it for me. I’m not worth it.”
Gabriel’s mouth gaped open as he saw this woman for the first time. She stood small and shattered from her time living, not just in the mind space with Josephine, but just living the life whatever higher being gave her. She was nothing like Josephine, but her blond hair begged to be touched. Despite knowing the difference, Gabriel’s hands ached to feel Josephine beyond the piece of technology.
She was in this body, in Clarke. For a brief moment of her story, it was written with those hands and that voice. It breathed through those lips and lived in that soft blond hair.
He reached for her, and she allowed for his fingertips to graze her cheek.
A half-smile came and went before she slipped away from him, from them all peeking back at them only briefly. But it was not at Gabriel, her gaze lingered on Bellamy as she closed the door behind her.
---
They worried about her.
After Clarke’s reappearance at the meeting declaring they should allow Josephine to live, she kept to herself. No one truly saw her least of all Raven who actively avoided her.
At this moment, Raven marched running a list of things she needed to do to be able to build a compound for them. Another red sun was approaching, and by the sound of it, they needed to find a way to survive it.
Blending into the corner, Clarke sat with her chin resting on her left knee. Eyes glazed over, her stillness sent chills down Raven’s spine. Goosebumps covered her.
Halting her steps, Raven debated on turning back before she said, “Clarke.” Nothing. “Clarke, you okay?” Nothing again, Raven sighed and step forward. Hand on Clarke’s shoulder, she repeated, “Clarke, you okay?”
Clarke jerked away from Raven’s touch springing to her feet and hitting her back against the wall. Immediately registering Raven, her labored breathing barely allowed a puffed apology. The tingling lingered over her body and paced into a numbness.
Clarke forgot to breathe. So absorbed in herself, Clarke did not notice Raven sprinting into action. She did not notice the crowd gathering. She did not notice the voices of concern or the voices of disinterest. She did not notice Gabriel scolding them to get back or the hesitation on certain faces.
She did notice the feeling of a palm reaching her shoulder.
Snapping her eyes, she saw Gabriel’s face. Kind. Worried. He appeared to be breathing slowly for her benefit. He looked beautiful in the haze, but she hated the pity. No one needed to hold her hand. She knew how to do it on her own.
Alone. It greeted her like a mother cradling her baby, wishing her well while choking it to death. Loneliness felt familiar in a dangerous way.
Words strung together and vaguely resembled sentences.
Clarke caught her breath long enough to spew, “Give me a minute.”
Gabriel sighed, “Clarke, you are exhibiting classic signs of PTSD. This is a panic attack, and it’s completely normal. You just have to breathe.”
Glaring, Clarke fisted until her knuckles turned white, “It’s not panic.” Breath. “I just…” Breath. “…need a minute.”
“Clarke. Did Josephine open the door?”
Bellamy wrangled himself to the front, “What are you saying?”
“If Josephine opened the door, it could get worse.”
Straining, she managed to yell, “I need a minute!” Jagged breaths turned to regulated breaths, “I stood outside in toxic air that would kill a normal person in seconds. I was out there for minutes. Becca wasn’t a god. She was a scientist, and we didn’t really know what we were doing when we made nightblood. We did a good job, and I’m proof of that, but I stood outside with a big fiery death wave coming right at me and breathing in radiation. My lungs are permanently damaged. It took me months to breathe normally afterwards, so please give me a minute.”
She meant for it to end there, but something gave her the strength to keep going. It bubbled in her and spilt over. It was scorching, “I saw my only hope fly out, but I couldn’t panic because I had a job to do. I needed to finish that job or no one was going to make it. So, I finished it, and then I ran. I ran, because no matter how much I knew it was useless, I have been running for so long it was automatic. I didn’t think. I just ran. And, then I blacked out, and I dug myself out. I dug the rover out. I…I…I kept looking for something. And there was nothing. It was just nothing and more nothing. I was hungry and thirsty and I didn’t sleep. But, none of that matter, because everywhere I looked it was just a bunch of dead things. And I should have been one, but I wasn’t and I…”
Holding her still, Gabriel rubbed his thumb on her upper arm as a form of comfort, “Clarke, did Josephine open the door?”
Face wet, Clarke nodded and whispered in all her brokenness, “Yes.”
Gabriel’s tight smile left her wanting something else, someone else. It brought her back to another time when death knocked on her door and another man gifted her a weak smile. It created a warmth in her toes all the way up to her cheeks. A smile like no other.
Whatever Gabriel lacked, he made up for in knowledge, “The door leads to the worst memories…the things that cause us the most pain. Clarke, I need you to understand that Josephine manipulated you by opening that door and having you relive this memory over. It’s okay to be upset.”
Forehead wrinkled, she gasped, “You think this the worst memory. I keep seeing their faces. I keep hearing how disappointed everyone is. I made choices I’m not proud of, but I…I thought I knew why. It’s so hard, but they look at me like I have some answer and when I don’t people die. I’m the bad guy because someone always dies. No one has been living more on borrowed time than me except maybe you. I should have ended it. No one would have known the difference.”
“Clarke…”
She was small. She inherited it from her mother, her stature. But she was never small. Even before she accepted the responsibility of leadership, her intelligence, her eagerness caused her to inhabit more space that she physically required.
Now, she was small and smashed, a mere fragment of the woman she was.
So, when she moved her gaze to the people at the root, it shattered them too, “I’m tired, so please can I have a minute?”
She slipped down Gabriel’s arms and out of consciousness.
---
The door clicked behind her as Abby returned to them all.
She said, “She should be okay. Her brain scans came back a little abnormal, but nothing life-threatening. She should wake up soon.”
Silence settled itself. No one was willing or ready to break it. No one knew what to say.
Clarke Griffin was a lot of things, but what they had just witnessed was not one of them. She stood tall and firm and steady. She was always such a constant pillar of strength. They looked to her because she rarely wavered in her defence of them. It was why it hurt to see her on the other side of an unnecessary war.
Who was she if not their greatest protector? Who were they if not her people?
If she was just another human attempting to do what is right, then nothing made sense. This picture they conjured hung all wrong. It favored the left and was off-center. The frame needed to be dusted and the colors needed to be restored.
The details were lost in the muck created by time.
One by one, they all left the room to return to the long list of items left to accomplish. Survival was still their number one priority. One by one, they escaped the guilt with busyness until Bellamy and Raven were left.
Raven glanced at him and exhaled, “Did she ever tell you? About what happened to her in those six years? Because I never even thought to ask.”
Shaking his head, he maneuvered himself to be closer to the window staring down at the moon below, “I asked once, but no…she never told me.”
“I think I forgot…that she’s a person with feelings. I think I got so used to her being this monument of…god, I don’t know. They gave her name, the grounders. Wenheda. It made it easier to forget that she’s Clarke Griffin, a person who lost just as much as we did.”
She stood behind him staring at the same scene, a mocking parallel to a beginning so many years ago. Both of them ready to make a similar vow now.
“So, let’s remember. Let’s not forget anymore. She almost died again, and we almost didn’t notice. I can’t let that happen. We can’t let that happen.”
Raven smirked, “She stopped us from doing a stupid thing today. She’s probably the only one Gabriel actually likes. I hate that she has that effect.”
Straightening, Bellamy countered, “Yeah, and because of Clarke, we can help him. What they are doing…it’s wrong. We have to stop them. Clarke’s going to agree, so are you with me.”
“Always.”