Chapter Text
"How did the saying go again? Old habits die hard? And this is a pretty old habit. It's been, what, a hundred and thirty one years? Granted only six of them were spent radioing daily but given I am only twenty four years old, six years is a long time, Bell."
Clarke paused in her practiced if somewhat rambling monologue to do the math, trying to figure out if she turned twenty five - or chronologically, a hundred and fifty- yet or not. At this rate, who's counting?
She stood over the memorial they set up in a clearing not too far away from the camp but nestled deep enough in the woods to ensure privacy for those seeking a quiet moment to remember.
It had been Gaia's idea, as a way to pay tribute to all the loved ones they've lost. When people had transcended, nothing had been left behind for them to mourn over, which had been an unspoken blessing for those who stayed. If their physical forms had remained, there would have been too many ghosts to bury, too many gravestones to carve and plot. The clean up would have been too hard. Then there were the ghosts with bodies long decayed, ones they knew of their names, ones whose faces haunted them.
Clarke came out here the most. Whenever she could really. Sometimes, it was to talk to her mother, sometimes it was Lexa, once she even took a few hours to apologize to all the lives she took, the great Wanheda begging for forgiveness but in the end she came to the same conclusion she came to a century prior- there were no good guys, just people trying to survive. And she had done a lot to survive, more than most should have to. Those days of fighting tooth and nail were over now, and with her life out of immediate danger Clarke would have thought she’d find some semblance of peace on the other side. There was none though, despite her efforts. She had her life, but it did not quite feel like living.
It was not all bad though. In fact, whatever she did have was good, and perhaps more than she deserved. She was lucky enough to not be alone, and the rest of humanity consisted entirely of people who chose to come back for her. They were the reason she kept waking up in the morning and carrying on when she felt like giving up.
She talked to Bellamy more than the rest; partially out of habit from the six years she had spent calling him over the radio, but mostly from her deep grief. At first her one-sided conversations always ended in tears and breakdowns until one of the remaining Last Kru would come to collect her when the sun set and it got too cold and dark for her to be in the forest on her own. Depending on who came, they would coax or order her back to the camp where she would collapse on her bed until the morning, everyone pretending like the episode had not happened in the new light of day. Then, as the weeks went by and they worked on building their home and settled into the routine of a quiet life, Clarke found herself not talking to Bellamy about the past and asking for his forgiveness, but rather about the present and sometimes the future. She told him about the animals they found, the progress they made, how Raven's engineering background and Jordan's inherited agriculture skills saved them all and how Murphy was still a pain in the ass but she will never take him, or any of them, for granted ever again.
It was different, talking to him knowing that he was dead and not coming back unlike before when it was a possibility she would be able to see him again, a pain that felt fresh every time she thought about it. She did not talk to him to keep her sane like she needed to back then, but perhaps it was out of the guilt that will never fade for being the reason he could not be here with them.
So the Commander of Death spent most of her nights talking to the dead, as it seemed fitting for her to hold court with those lost to her title. They followed her wherever she went but slowly, eventually the ghosts began to stay behind in the slab of rock they placed in their honor and she returned to her kru lighter with every trip to the memorial.
But there was one ghost whose weight would never grow lighter, and outweighed all the others combined. The ghost who would always haunt her, even if she gave in and started talking to them like she talked to all the others. But it seemed wrong to do so, because this one was not a ghost at all. Clarke picked up the thread of conversation.
"Everyone I ever cared about is either dead or with me. Everyone except for her, Bell. Some of the others, Levitt, Indra, Gaia- they have people they cared about who transcended. They're happy for them. They've made their choice to return while the others remained and it all worked out in the end. Everyone is content with their fate. I should be satisfied knowing she made her choice, and a part of me is. I couldn’t stand knowing she'd eventually be all alone if she had come down. But I miss her so much, Bell." She choked back the tears that welled in her eyes, clenching her hands into fists in frustration, the pain of her nails biting into her palm grou nding her.
She knew she was being selfish. She should not be wishing for her daughter to be stuck down here with her where she ran the risk of feeling pain, of feeling hurt, of being left alone when they all grew old and died. Then only for her turn to eventually come and in the end, she would not join the others in transcendence. They would all just be dead. It was not fair for Madi to have to live through that, to never return to that peaceful place just for Clarke to have her near her again.
But she missed her so much. Clarke missed her baby so much she could not breathe sometimes just thinking about it.
She missed her all the time, at varying degrees depending on how well she could distract herself from the dull ache, or raging inferno residing in her chest, but it always lingered to a certain level. When she caught herself wishing Madi was here, she would feel like the worst mother on earth- or the worst mother in existence seeing as there were only two mothers remaining in the universe, so the title for the worst did not require much. Then Clarke would be split right down the middle, one side of her just wanting her daughter in her arms and the other side trying to convince herself that Madi was better off in transcendence and that she should want what was best for her child. Her two halves would battle, but they never reached a resolution, and usually resulted in Clarke getting a migraine.
She did not want to burden the others, she'd done that enough already, so she came out here and talked to her ghosts and tried not to miss her daughter too much because if she thought about it for too long Clarke would fall apart and the others would not know how to put her back together, no one would.
One person would. But she was not here. Resuming her speech, Clarke suddenly changed topics, trying to pull herself away from the thoughts that threatened to undo her.
"We told Hope some tales of Octavia during her wild phase when we first landed in the dropship all those years ago. For some reason, Auntie O had neglected to mention these stories when she told her about the original 100. Probably trying to be a good role model. I get it. It's not like I haven't filtered the stories I told Madi." Clarke pointed out with a fond smile, mind lost in memories of countless bedtime stories told in a mixture of Trig and English to the wide-eyed grounder child who soaked up every word.
"And Echo found some berries that kind of look like the ones I used to use for painting but they're much more bitter. She, Raven, Murphy, and Emori don't mind eating them though. They claim Monty's algae permanently destroyed their taste buds."
Jordan would be living proof of that. The man ate nothing but algae for twenty eight years and they had to keep a close eye on him because he would eat just about anything without complaints and some of the things that wound up in his mouth were not edible and he just didn't have the senses to be able to tell when something went rancid. He gave himself food poisoning four times in their four months of living here. No wait- five times. But one of them did not count because they all got sick and Murphy had not been allowed to cook since, stuck on clean up duty for the rest of their lives.
Clarke had been sitting on the ground with her back resting against the great slab of their stone memorial when something in the woods made her freeze. The camp sat behind her with a decent stretch of trees separating them. Whenever she left to pay her daily respects, everyone always gave her space and privacy, so she knew her companions would keep away from the site and all be back at their burgeoning village, except for Niylah and Echo who were out hunting but they were even further out. So when Clarke suddenly registered that there was a figure standing in the trees a few feet away from her, she knew it was a stranger.
Except they did not have strangers. They were literally the last remaining people on Earth. Panic seized her throat for a moment.
She blinked a few times, convinced it was simply an illusion that would fade away, but the figure persisted as a shadowed, yet stark shape in the greenery. They were really there, too far away to pick up little more than the fact that they were young, perhaps a teenager, much shorter than anyone in her kru. Another image, a memory of a similar scene flashed in her mind and she tried to push it away.
The figure seemed to notice that she saw them, and they took a hesitant step back.
"It's okay. Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Clarke quickly placated, raising her hands in surrender to show the stranger she had no weapons as she slowly rose to her feet. Her wide eyes were trained on the figure who seemed to still when she spoke. She took a tentative step forward and considered it a good sign when the stranger did not step away again. Somewhere in the back of her mind the feeling of deja vu returned, but she forced herself to focus on the fact that there was someone she did not recognize here with them.
The only explanation could be that they must have been in transcendence and came down. The thought was alarming to consider. How could they have missed people in their return? Did that mean there were others they had missed? Or why would this person have returned so long after everyone else? The questions sprung up in her mind rapidly, along with the worry that she may be in danger, but she doubted someone would leave transcendence searching for revenge so at least she was safe. Probably. Best not to assume these things as she learned from her past experience.
"I… I need to find Griffin." The stranger spoke up, the voice of a young boy uncertain but speaking in clear English. Clarke did not recognize it and that added to the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why was he looking for her?
"That's my name. I'm Clarke Griffin." She introduced, stepping nearer and nearer until she could make out some of his features. She thinks she might have seen him before but she was not sure. "Did someone tell you to find me? Can you tell me your name?"
She pressed him for information trying to piece together why this stranger needed to find her. Maybe when he came down the transcended told him to find Last Kru, singled out Clarke as the leader, and told the boy to find her so he could join the last remaining group on Earth.
"You're Clarke Griffin?" The boy questioned, not giving her any answers.
"Yeah. Yes, that's me." She quickly confirmed, hoping the fact would make him trust her enough to lead him back to their camp.
The boy grinned lopsidedly, maybe out of relief, and Clarke got the sense from his disheveled state that he had been on his own for a while. She wondered why he had not been dropped off where they were or why he did not just show up at the bunker.
"I need to find Griffin." The boy repeated, this time with a laugh hinting of excitement. Before Clarke could repeat that she was indeed Griffin, he took off running in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest.
She did not have time to think, let alone dwell on why this felt so familiar, before her feet were working faster than her brain and she found herself chasing after the kid.
"Hey! Hey! Wait!" She called out after him, trying to catch up or slow him down at least. None of this made any sense. Who was this kid? And why was he running away from her when he was tasked with finding her?
"Griffin! Griffin!" The boy kept calling out gleefully, darting between the trees as Clarke tried in vain to catch up. They were too far away for any of the others to hear them and come help, and she could not go for backup without risking losing his trail. Besides, something deep within her drove her to keep pursuing him.
Clarke still had him in her line of sight, and she opened her mouth to call out for him again when a different voice, a third voice, called out loudly.
"LUCA!"
They both halted. The boy stopped at hearing what was clearly his name and Clarke- Clarke froze. Everything went quiet for a few seconds and she did not dare move a muscle, unconsciously holding her breath, brain completely blanking. She could have sworn even her heart stopped beating for a few seconds as her whole body strained to hear the voice again.
That voice.
No. It was not possible.
It had to be something else, she must have heard wrong.
Except she'd know that voice anywhere.
It was the voice she still heard every night in her dreams.
Seconds passed but it felt like an eternity during which Clarke could not even form a single thought beyond a name repeating over and over and over again. A mantra, a desperate wish, a plea.
Madi. Madi. Madi. Madi.
The owner of the voice came into her line of sight from a dense area in the forest and made a beeline to the boy who turned in their direction to watch them approach, though Clarke’s view was partially obscured by them passing behind trees. Their back was to Clarke as they reached the boy and immediately started fussing over him, going into what sounded like a lecture but Clarke could not make out the words, All the sounds around her were muffled over the beating of her own heart which seemed to have jump-started and was beating so loudly in her ears the two strangers should have heard it from a distance. Hell, her people back at the camp should have heard it.
No, not two strangers. The new figure was no stranger.
Madi. Madi. Madi. Madi.
Keeping as silent as possible, as if making a sound would cause them to disappear, Clarke took a tentative step towards the pair. She still could not catch sight of the girl’s face, but she heard her voice, and she could see her hair tucked back into a ponytail. Clarke spent years running her fingers through those locks, so much so she could feel the texture of it in her hands already. She could smell it, since it always smelt like the soap she made from a grounder recipe with the slightest hint of berries during the spring.
Madi. Madi. Madi. Madi.
Her daughter was standing right in front of her, close enough that if she took a few more steps it would carry Clarke over to her.
Madi. Madi. Madi. Madi.
Clarke could breathe again.
Slowly, her senses returned to her, her fingers flexed, finally responding to the signals her brain was sending trying to get her nearer to her child, wanting to touch her, hold her, pull her into her arms and never let go.
"-not to eat the nuts. We needed to take them to my mom and Jackson to test if they were hallucinogens first. But now half of them are gone and you're high so that's one mystery solved at least."
Abruptly the scolding lecture from the girl started coming through clear, but Clarke could not actually comprehend what was being said. She knew the words, but she was so caught up on the fact that it was Madi Madi Madi Madi saying them that she did not pay much attention to what they meant.
Finally, her prayer pushed right out of her lungs and left her lips in a resounding cry that came from deep within her.
"Madi!"
The girl's head whipped back sharply at the sound of her name, instantly recognizing the voice that called her. The movement pulled a muscle but the sharp pain from where her shoulder met her neck barely registered.
"Clarke?" She called out in disbelief.
Clarke watched with bated breath as her daughter's expression went from shocked to absolute glee before the girl was sprinting in her direction, her arms moving on their own accord to catch the teenager hurling herself at her in full force.
It was only a second before they collided, Madi's momentum pushing Clarke backwards a few steps as she staggered to regain her balance quickly. Her arms wrapped around the teenager in a grip so tight Madi struggled to fill her lungs with air, but she did not mind one bit as she clung to the woman. Instead, the girl burrowed her face in her mother’s neck and her initial elation became more complicated as conflicting emotions began to pass through her and she openly sobbed, soaking Clarke’s sweater as her shoulder muffled the sound. Small hands gripped at the back of her sweater in shaky fistfuls as her whole body trembled against her mother with each sob that wracked through her.
Clarke was no better, only slightly more quiet as her tears ran down her cheeks and soaked into her daughter's hair which was pressed against the side of her face before she tilted her head sideways and buried her nose in the soft black locks.
"You're here. You're here." She whispered in reverence and disbelief, the statement a fact and a question and a reassurance to them both. A million thoughts raced through Clarke's mind, which seemed to be working again, but it was all overshadowed with the single repeating thought: her child was here in her arms. Nothing else mattered.
Her daughter shook harder against her, head shifting slightly until her chin was tucked over Clarke’s shoulder and the blonde could make out declarations from her.
"I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry. I couldn't do it. I'm so sorry, Clarke." Madi’s words came out jaggedly when she managed to force them in between the steady flow of her tears.
Clarke could not fathom what she was apologizing for, but it did not matter. Nothing could ruin it now that her daughter was here and Clarke was whole again.
"It's alright. It's alright, baby, you're okay. We're okay now, I've got you." Clarke whispered reassurances to her child, keeping one arm around her back while her other hand cradled the back of her head, fingers working her long hair out of its ponytail to tangle themselves back in the hair more familiar to her than her own.
Madi responded by clutching at her more desperately, overwhelmed with emotions, exhausted, and wanting her mother more than anything else in the world.
"Nomi," she whimpered out desperately, slumping against the older woman who accommodated the weight of the twelve year old, the name making her heart flutter lighter than it had in ages.
"I'm here, my baby." Clarke promised, words as steady as her hold, carrying most of her daughter's weight. Her words brought a fresh wave of tears for the young girl, who was growing more tired by the second. Clarke closed her own eyes, trying not to go back to the last time she called Madi her baby as she held her lifeless, bloody form, and instead focusing on the fact that she could feel her daughter's chest expanding with every breath against her own. She was alive and safe and here.
"Good kitty." A boyish voice sounded out with a giggle, startling the two who had almost forgotten his presence. Clarke looked up and Madi shifted to turn her head so she could look behind her without moving out of her mother’s arms.
The boy her daughter had called Luca was crouched down in front of Picasso, whom Clarke has no idea when she even showed up but she must have followed her at some point as she sometimes tended to do, and the boy was smiling dopily as he scratched behind the dog's ear.
"I love you." The boy confessed suddenly, the grin falling from his face and replaced with a serious expression that did not quite fit him.
"That's Luca. He came down with me. We were friends back on Sanctum." Madi supplied from her place tucked against her mother, knowing the woman had never been formally introduced to the boy with all the crazy events that led to the end of the world for like the fourth time. "We found what I think are Jobi nuts. We picked them to bring to you for testing. I thought maybe we could use them as painkillers. Luca must have had a few while I was hunting because half of them are gone and I'm pretty sure he's high. He's not usually this weird."
She explained, watching the boy with a concerned frown. Suddenly things started clicking in place for Clarke as she understood why the boy was acting weird, and why he had run away from her in search of Griffin. He had found the wrong Griffin. He hadn't been looking for Clarke, he had been looking for Madi. He probably recognized Clarke's name from her daughter telling him about her.
"He'll be fine. It wears off in a few hours." Clarke reassured the girl, practically dismissing the boy as she turned her focus back on her daughter. She could see her face clearly now, and she noted happily that it had not changed in the four months they'd been separated, the longest time yet in a hundred and thirty one years. Clarke shifted her hand from the back of Madi's head to her face, resting it against her cheek, thumb absent-mindedly wiping away at her tears. Madi looked away from Luca and up at her, eyes filled with so many emotions but the one she could make out the clearest was love, which the mother felt when the girl nuzzled her palm, basking in the return of her affectionate touch.
They stayed like that for a few more moments, knowing there was a lot to be said but both wanting to enjoy the other's company and this peaceful bliss a little while longer. Neither of them spoke until an audible rumble coming from Madi's stomach pulled the mother out of her thoughts and made the girl blush, moving to hide her face in her mother’s shoulder once more.
Clarke smiled, leaned down to kiss the crown of her daughter's head, while her other arm rubbed her back gently before she pulled back just enough to meet her sky blue eyes.
"The others will be thrilled to see you, and it's almost time for supper. Let's get you two home."
Home. The word felt foreign to Clarke, who had only referred to their camp as a camp or a settlement or some variation of the words, because it couldn't be home.
But now Madi was here, back in her arms, Clarke was whole, and she was home again.