Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I'm not just born.

Sure, I've found my way into this world, just like everyone else. I have a mom, and a dad. I even have a brother. Or had, I should say. I've had a childhood, though strangely enough, right in this moment, I have no real recollection of it.

I do remember the world around me changing, however. Quickly, and not for the good. I lost people because of it. Way too many people. All of my people, eventually. I made it through, but I still have to fight to survive. Constantly, and till this very day.

Fighting to survive, that's my new life. But it doesn't feel new. It feels strangely familiar. It has since the beginning.

Why? I have no clue. I've never been able to figure it out. Not until today, until this very moment.

The moment that the sky opens up right in front of me…

Hidden between the trees, together with my tribe, I watch how the foreign object comes closer and closer toward us until it hits the ground, almost gently, telling me there is nothing this pilot can't handle.

"Pilot?" the others cry out, bewildered. "That's no plane, is it?!" "What is this thing?" "Who's in there?" "Why d…"

I don't share their questions, nor their panic. Because I know what I'm watching. I've seen it before.

Strangers arriving from outer space. Invading my woods. My woods? Yes, I'm suddenly certain about that. There have been woods before and it had been up to me to protect them. And just like now I hadn't been fighting alone.

But…

I look at my friends. No, they hadn't been with me. And neither had my family. Madison. Steven. Nick. Travis. Chris. They're not part of this… dream?

I look at the spaceship again. The spaceship that doesn't fit the scenery. That doesn't belong here. But that brings me back to a place I once knew so well. How could that be? I really don't understand. Yet the longer I watch, the less doubt I feel. I haven't just pictured this. I experienced it. This other, yet very real life.

It wasn't a dream. It's a memory.

A very blurry memory, that is. Which is why I can't see it. I can't see who's been with me. But I know: I have been fighting before - although with the living instead of the dead. And not just with one, or two, or… no, entire armies I defeated. Defeated and commanded.

No wonder I can kick everyone's ass!

A loud hissing sound breaks the silence that has fallen over the woods, bringing me back to the present. I move my eyes to the heavy door that is now slowly opening, like a drawbridge.

"Can't be walkers, right?" Morgan quietly speaks up. "That thing just crushed the entire herd!"

I shake my head. "Stedaunon don gon we," I mumble.

He turns his head to look at me, his eyes full of confusion. "Say what?"

"The dead are gone," I repeat myself, vaguely aware that I was speaking a different tongue, and with my gaze still stuck on that door. As soon as it hits the ground two bearded men, a teenager and a girl with face tattoos step outside - heavily armed, prepared for any danger. Unless they are the danger?

"The living are hungr-" I continue, but my voice stops mid-sentence as soon as my eye catches the blonde girl that follows them. She lifts her hand to protect her eyes from the bright light, covering her face for us, the lurking audience. But those first two seconds were enough for me.

Gasping for air, I freeze.

"Clarke," I breathe, subconsciously grabbing Strand's arm in the sudden need to hold on to something - anything.

He looks down on me. "Are these your relatives?"

I look back at him, read the surprise in his eyes. "What? No, I'm not talking about… I'm not even sure if… " I swallow, trying to wrap my head around all this. "…if that's my name."

Now Strand is the one who's lost. "It's not? Then what is?!" he frowns.

"I- I don't know," I stammer, my eyes already drawn back to the scene in front of me. By now the small group has spread out. They've lowered their weapons, probably assuming it's safe enough. The blonde is standing there by herself, her face turned toward the sky.

"But I know her," I murmur, more to myself this time.

As soon as the words are out, I know that's an understatement. I don't just know this girl. I know everything about her.

Her story. Her mission. Her strengths and her weaknesses. Her pain, her joy, her losses and her victories. I know her voice. Her smell.

I even know her heartbeat.

Still unable to move, I keep gazing at her. At this girl, this young woman bathing in the warm, afternoon sunlight, with the softest smile lingering on her lips.

Those lips! How could I ever forget about those lips!? I've stared at those lips - so, so many times. Secretly. Thirsty. I've glanced at them when we talked strategies. I've watched how they turned into a smile, just like they do now, but also how they set into this hard line after I… after I betrayed her.

I've seen them quiver. I've seen her wet them with the tip of her tongue, mindlessly. I've seen her biting the bottom one, trying to stop it from trembling.

I have sensed them on my own. I've tasted them. Felt them all over my body. Softly, when they traced the sharp lines of my tattoos, and more firmly, more determent when they reached their destination.

I've witnessed up close how she clenched her eyes, right before my name rolled off those lips.

"Lexa…"

I remember her, everything about her, and because of that I finally remember myself.

I am Lexa kom Trikru. Heda of the Thirteen Clans. Heir to Bekka Pramheda.

I'm not just born. I am reborn.

I have lived and died and yet survived - somehow, in this… this void, for God knows how many years. I have a past. A past that matters. That deserves a second chance. It's why after all these horrific years, in which I lost everything, including hope, I suddenly know, more than anything, that I do have something to live for. That I have a future after all.

My future is right there…

…getting captured by a Whisperer.

Shit! Where did he come from?!

Unable to move, or even to breathe, I watch how Clarke is attacked from behind, disarmed and thrown over that monster's shoulder. Three more Whisperers show up, carrying guns and knives, forcing Clarke's friends to hide in their ship - saving themselves instead of her. I get it. I do. They don't stand a chance. No one fights the Whisperers.

No one but me, that is.

I deeply inhale, draw my gun and start to move.

"Alicia, stop!"

I look over my shoulder.

"Don't follow them!" Luciana begs. "You can't keep risking your life for just anyone."

As I stare back at my friend, my lips form a small, apologetic yet determined smile. "She's not just anyone…"

And then I run. Faster than I have ever ran. Zigzagging between the trees, following the Whisperers into a darker, more grim part of the forest. They are strong and fast and they seem to know their way around here. But I'm trained for this - even if it was in another lifetime.

So I don't give up. I keep hunting them till they reach an old, dirty shack. That's when I stop. To catch my breath and to estimate the situation. There are two men outside, guarding the place. The other two went in, with Clarke. I can only hope there's no one else inside.

I have to be quick since I have to rely on the act of surprise. I can't miss a single shot. Good thing I wasn't just trained by Anya, I learned a thing or two from Jake as well.

I load my gun, step from my hiding place and shoot twice - hitting both men straight in the head before they even see me. However, two loud, long-distance shots mean I have to run. I cross the open field between the trees and the shack in just a few seconds. Right when I get there the door flies open. Without giving it a second thought I point my gun at the massive man that's now standing in front of me, blocking my way. He doesn't seem impressed.

"Let her go!" I command.

He gives me a once-over, head to toe, and shows me a crooked smile. "Or what?"

I answer him by shooting a bullet right between his eyes.

The fourth man, who's holding a big knife against Clarke's throat, turns toward me - dragging Clarke along with him.

"Let! Her! Go!" I repeat myself, my voice surprisingly steady.

The man seems in doubt. We are both armed, but I'm only half his size. I might not be a threat.

I nod my head toward the man on the floor. He gets the hint, moving his eyes from my pointed gun to his friend's face - or what's left of it. Slowly he lets go of his grip.

Clarke tumbles forward, on to her knees, then quickly sits up. Our eyes meet - finally. She's gagged, but even if she could say anything, she's clearly lost for words. I can see it in her eyes: could this really be…?

Stepping closer I kneel down in front of her. I gently rest my hand against her cheek. A sigh of relief escapes me when I feel her lean into my touch. My heart swells and I can feel how my lips curve into a smile, despite the current danger.

"Hey there," I whisper. "I told you I'll always be with you."

... ...

Chapter Text

This can't be real. This can't be possible. There's no way she can be here.

But she is.

Hardly an arm's length away from me, kneeling down to the ground, and gently caressing my face. She looks different; not so much in her features, but in her manners. Less warrior-like, and not just because of the lack of warpaint. I recognize the affection in her eyes though. The affection as well as the pain.

She looks different and yet exactly the same. So all I can do is gaze at her. Watch how the corner of her mouth gradually quirks up.

"I told you I'll always be with you," she smiles.

Speechless, I swallow and slowly nod. She did tell me - again and again actually, since her very last words to me have echoed in my head from the moment they were out. Hearing them again reassures me, tells me it really must be her, but my tensed body doesn't get the chance to relax. Before I can even blink, she raises her other hand. The hand with the gun.

Oh God, I was wrong. It's not real. It's a trap!

The deafening bang makes me flinch and I instinctively protect my head with my arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she cries out, cautiously scooching closer again. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I would never— I could never hurt you. But he was about to!"

When I slowly lower my arms and look up, she nods to something behind me. I turn my head to look over my shoulder and watch the man who captured me lying on the ground, now only three feet away from me.

He's dead.

"I'm sorry I scared you," she apologizes once more.

I turn to face her again. She's not smiling anymore. She just stares at me - worried. I can't help but stare back at her. My mouth feels dry and my heart is pounding out of my chest. It's not all fear though.

With our eyes still locked, she carefully removes the gag from my mouth. Once freed from the dirty rag, I gasp for air.

"Lexa?" I breathe, finally able to form words again. Or well, one word. The only word that matters.

She gives me a half grin and nods.

I reach out and lightly touch her cheek with the tip of my fingers. Only when I'm assured that I'm not dealing with some hologram, I add a little pressure and follow the contour of her jawline. My eyes never leave hers.

"B-But how...?"

Lexa shrugs, shaking her head. "I don't know. I really don't." She sits up straight and glances over her shoulder. "I know we can't stay here, though. The noise of the gun will draw more of them. Probably a herd too."

"A herd?" I frown as she gets up.

"Walkers," she clarifies, like that tells me anything. "Come here, let me untie you."

But I can't move. I'm completely overwhelmed. The arriving at this new, insane planet. The frightening abduction that followed. This unexpected, mind-blowing reunion. For the first time in my life I feel like I lost all control. So I just sit here, on this dirty ground, as Lexa kneels down again to release me from the ropes around my wrists.

When she stands to her feet, she extends her hand. The soft smile returns to her face. "You trust me?"

I swallow again, force my body to wake up and accept her hand. "With my life," I whisper.

"Good," she grins as she pulls me up, "Then come with me."

Without letting go of me, she turns around and leads me outside. It's getting dark already. We quickly cross the open space in front of the shed to find shelter in the woods. Once between the trees, Lexa starts walking toward what I believe is east.

"Wait! I think we came from the other side," I stop her. Pointing at the twilight sky I continue, "The sun was right behind me when I got here. See that glow over there? It must have set just a few minutes ago. And there's Orion, so we only have to st—"

I abruptly shut my mouth when I see Lexa's lips twist into an amused grin. "Klark kom Skaikru," she laughs, "The Girl From The Sky. It's really you, isn't it?"

"Am I wrong?" I frown.

She shakes her head. "No, you're right. But we can't go there now. It was quite the run up to here, it will be pitch black before we get all the way back - let alone find it. It's far too dangerous."

"But I need to get back!" I tell her. I can hear the desperation in my own voice. "My people, they'll be worried!"

Lexa takes a step forward and lightly rests her hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry," she says with a soft voice, and I believe her. "My camp is close-by, we can reach it if we hurry. I promise I'll bring you to your ship first thing in the morning, if... if you want me to."

I nod. I don't know if I want to, I don't really know anything right now, but I know I need to.

She nods as well, then averts her eyes. As she fumbles with the shoulder strap of my coat, I notice her smile is gone. I want to say something—anything—to make her smile again, but I'm lost for words. Besides the moment passes quickly.

She clears her throat and turns around again. "Come on," she calls over her shoulder.

I follow her. She was right, it's not that far from her camp and we make it there right before the darkness covers us.

There's an armored truck which reminds me of the rover, only way bigger. Around it, in a half moon shape, are a few tents. Between the truck and the tents sits a group of people around a fire. I hesitate.

Lexa, noticing my sudden wavering, turns toward me. "It's okay," she smiles reassuring, "They are my people."

I narrow my eyes. "Trikru?" I question, drawing another laugh from her.

"There's no Trikru here," she giggles. "There are no clans. Or maybe in a way there are, but..." She stops talking and shakes her head. "But these folks, they are just... just people. Good people!" she quickly adds.

For the second time today, she offers me her hand. Together we make our way to her people - her apparently good people. 

They jump to their feet as soon as they spot her.

"Alicia!!" they all cry out in one voice.

Lexa throws a quick glance at me. "That's me," she explains beneath her breath, "Please go with it."

Before I can respond, we're surrounded by men and women asking questions. I can tell they're beyond relieved to see her again and it warms my heart to know that she's found people who care this much about her. I notice she doesn't really answer them though. Instead she shushes them, though with a warm smile.

"Guys, I'm alright. Nothing to worry about!" she reassures them, pulling me closer before I can stop her. "This is Clarke. My... friend."

Not giving the small crowd the chance to question either of us, she faces me, raising her eyebrows. "You're hungry?"

"Not really," I answer. "Actually, I'm... I'm kind of beaten."

She nods understandingly, then moves her eyes to the teen girl standing a few feet away from her. Older dan Madi, but still young. "Charlie, you sleep in the van tonight," she dictates her. It's one of those moments that a hint of the Commander shines through. A hint of Heda.

"Who's on watch?" Lexa—or Alicia?!—continues in the meantime.

A man steps forward. "Al and I are on first, Morgan and Sarah on second. You can rest tonight."

She thanks him with a grateful smile, then turns to me again. "This way," she bobs her head in the direction of one of the tents. She picks up a burning oil lamp and leads the way. And just like before I follow her without further questions.

The tent is small, yet still big enough for us to stand up straight. It's almost empty, except for two mattresses, one on each site, and some junk. I guess they travel light.

"No thrown?" I can't help but joke.

Lexa shows me a weak smile, shrugging apologetically. "I'm sorry I can't offer you much more. You can take whichever bed you want."

"Thank you," I mirror her smile, but for some reason I don't move. It's like something has shifted in the air. Even though being around her again feels incredibly familiar, I'm also highly aware that it's been a very, very long time. I hate it, but I'm afraid we're not the same people anymore. We can't just pretend that all those years in between never happened.

As I'm standing there, lingering and uncomfortably scuffing my foot through the dirt, Lexa seems to share my quandary. Looking somewhat shy herself all of a sudden, she coughs and turns around, giving me my privacy - I think.

I'm not going to strip down though. Not because of her, but because this seems to be a place that needs you to be ready at any given moment. So instead I only kick off my shoes and drop my heavy coat to the floor, followed by my henley. Keeping my pants and tank top on, I randomly pick a mattress and crawl under the stiff blanket. The smell on the pillow tells me it's hers.

The sound of the shifting bedding makes Lexa turn around again. Seemingly without a second thought she drops herself down on the other bed. She lays down on top of the blanket, fully clothed as if she doesn't intent to actually sleep. Stretching her arm, she turns off the lamp nonetheless. Maybe I was wrong, maybe this is how she sleeps? Maybe the nightgown days are over, too?

With the small fire burning outside as the only source of light, it's hard to really see anything - to really see her. Lying in the dark like this, we stay quiet for a while.

"So, who's Alicia?" I eventually break the silence that's driving me crazy.

l can hear her move on the bed a little. Did I make her uncomfortable? "I am," she answers. "I mean, it's not just another name. It's another life I lived - live," she corrects herself. "I don't understand it myself, but I know I'm as much Alicia as I'm Lexa."

I think I'm starting to see it. I mean, I don't get it - the how of this all, but I think I'm getting the picture. She started over - somehow. This isn't her first day. She's born and raised here, she has a history, besides her history with... well, me, among others. And she's right not to ignore that.

I roll to my side and watch her, even though I can't see much more than the shape of her body. It's enough to make me smile. "Well, I can't wait to get to know her," I calmly tell her, and I swear I can hear her exhale in relief.

For a moment we stay quiet again, until I remember something else. "Those walkers you were speaking of. What are they?"

"They are... They are kind of like Reapers," Lexa starts to explain, "Humans turned into primal monsters without a mind of their own. Only in contrast to the Reapers, you can't bring them back. 'Cause they're dead."

I swallow. "That sounds horrible. Are they your biggest enemy?"

"I really wish I could say yes to that," she sighs.

I have so many more questions, especially since I still have no idea where I actually am, but I feel like I shouldn't ask them. At least not right now.

"So you remember the Reapers?" I quietly ask instead.

Lexa turns to her side as well, facing me. "I do. I remember everything. But—"

"But what?"

She takes a deep breath. "But I didn't till today. It wasn't until I saw you that it all came back to me. I'm really sorry, Clarke," she continues in a small voice, "I'm afraid I forgot about you."

She feels bad. I can tell. I don't want her to feel bad.

"I bet you didn't," I tell her, my own voice surprisingly steady. "You just didn't know yet how to connect the dots. It's a lot. Heck, I still don't understand half of it. But I'm sure the dots were always there."

"Hm," Lexa just hums.

Of course I have no clue what I'm talking about. Maybe it's my own wishful thinking, the need to believe that our past wasn't completely erased for so many years. Her silence makes me nervous, but just when I'm about to apologize—like, what the hell do I know about her situation?—she speaks up again.

"Now that she's back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair..." she softly mumbles.

I frown. "I'm sorry?" 

"It's the first line of my favorite song. Like my ultimate favorite. I never really got what made this song this great to me, why I loved the space metaphor that much," she explains, quietly adding, "Perhaps it was a dot?"

I can't suppress another smile. I'll definitely take it.

Naturally she doesn't notice, since it's so damn dark in here. Instead of waiting for my reply, she starts to sing - softly and in that specific way when one seems to be elsewhere for a moment, without anyone listening to them.

"Tell me, did you fall from a shooting star, one without a permanent scar, and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?"

My smile fades away.

"Every day," I whisper.

"What?" she asks, a hint of confusion in her voice.

Fighting with a sudden lump in my throat, I repeat myself. "I missed you every day."

Lexa rolls onto her back again. "I hate that. I hate to know you were in pain, that I wasn't there for you—"

"Hey, you're here now," I interrupt her.

She grumbles. "How's that helping anything?"

"Oh, it's helping!" I set her straight. Unable to bear it any longer, I kick the blanket off of me and cross the three feet to the other side of the tent. "It's helping a lot," I sigh as I lay myself down next to her.

She turns her head to look at me. Her breath caresses my cheek. "How... How long has it been?" she asks with some hesitance.

The sound of her voice makes me wonder if she really wants to know. I swallow again.

"Over a hundred years. Hundred and thirty-one, to be more precise."

Her muteness reflects my own overpowering feelings.

"I used to count the days," I quietly go on. "One hundred. One thousand. Two thousand... Until I couldn't anymore. I tried, I really did, but it was like counting the stars on a bright night: impossible."

She doesn't say anything. Instead, she moves her hand that's lying close next to mine and laces our fingers - cautiously, like I might withdraw at any moment. But I don't. Of course I don't. There's nothing like holding her, like the feeling of her skin against mine again. Nonetheless a sudden giggle escapes me.

"Also I was brought asleep for most of the time," I chuckle.

"There's so much you need to tell me," she sighs. "But not right now. You should get some sleep."

Instinctively I roll to my side to rest my head on her chest, right when she lifts her arm to welcome me as if she was waiting for it.

"You stay with me?" I mumble as I find warmth and safety in her embrace.

She rakes her fingers through my hair, tenderly.

"Of course," she whispers, "I'm not going anywhere."

... ...

Chapter Text

"You might want to change your Grounder attire for something more comfortable," I suggest while I watch Clarke maneuver herself into her sturdy coat. She turns around, a smile lighting up her face when she realizes I had my eyes on her. "The summer sun will make you die in there," I smirk.

"Good thinking. Did you happen to see a shop around here?" she winks, "Or a trading post maybe?"

I snort and shake my head. Pulling my backpack toward me, I take out one of my jackets and hand it to her. "Here, take this one."

She accepts the light garment with a smile and tries it on. When it fits, she cheers and spins around on her feet.

She looks stunning, and hot, and she makes my heart go crazy.

"Perfect," I smile, "You look—" I fall quiet, realizing I'm only making things harder. "—perfect," I mumble beneath my breath.

I leave the tent before she can even respond. There's no need to postpone this any longer.

Clarke follows me outside. Trying to catch up, she pulls my sleeve. "Wait? You're not taking any of your stuff?"

As I turn around to face her, I notice the confusion in her eyes. "Why should I?"

"I don't know, because you might need them?" she shrugs. "You are... You're coming with me, right?"

When I blankly stare at her, she gazes back at me in anticipation. For a moment everything around me seems to turn still.

"N-No," I stammer. "I'm just bringing you back. I won't stay there. I-I can't stay there."

Clarke steps closer, closing the distance between us, then takes my hands into her own. "But you can't leave me. Not again. Please... you can't!" she begs.

I take a deep breath, but before I can say anything—anything at all—someone clears their throat behind me, drawing my attention away from Clarke's pleading eyes. I look over my shoulder. It's Al.

And John. And June. And Wendell. And Strand.

It's an audience.

"You can use my truck," Al smiles, suggestively raising her eyebrow, "You know, if you guys want some privacy?"

I look at her, then back at Clarke, then at the small group around us, before I return my gaze to Al and show her a small yet grateful smile.

"Yeah, okay."

Grabbing Clarke by the hand I bluntly drag her along with me, up and into the SWAT truck. "Out," I tell Charlie, who's still in there. Once we're alone again, I turn toward Clarke.

"I'm sorry, I just assumed—"

"No, I assumed," she cuts me off, "I assumed you would want to be with our people. That you would want to be with me."

"I do want to be with you!" I cry out, throwing my hands up in frustration. "But those people, they are not my people anymore. And I am not their Heda anymore. Yet we both know they won't see it like that. They will expect things from me that I can not offer."

"But why not? If anyone can lead us in this new world, it's you!" There's desperation in her voice. I'm afraid I sound just the same though.

"Because I don't want to," I answer as calmly as possible. "Being a Commander, it's been such a burden. I realize that now more than ever. Now that I remember, and now that I can compare. Now that I can actually choose." Slowly exhaling, I gently lay my hand on her upper arm. "Clarke, this is my life now. And even though things turned to hell, even when death tries to take over, I'm free. I am free! And I'm not trading my freedom for anything."

Clarke swallows and lowers her head, not saying anything anymore.

"You uhm... you can stay with me, though?" I quietly, almost cautiously suggest. "We could be free together?"

She shakes her head, slowly, without looking at me. "I can't," she sighs. "It's not just my people..." She looks up at me through her lashes. "It's my kid."

"You have a kid!?" I exclaim, unintentionally provoking a laugh from her.

"Kind of, yeah," she grins. "Hey, a lot can happen in a hundred years."

Unwillingly, a soft chuckle escapes me and for a second the air feels a little less heavy.

"She's not mine. Like, not mine mine," she goes on, clarifying. "I sort of adopted her. But she means the world to me."

"Okay, well, you both come with me then? We won't be traveling for much longer. We're actually on our way to a community not that far from here, a place where we might be able to settle down. We're not in yet, but two more shouldn't make a difference to get asylum or not." I look at her expectantly, unable to hide the hope in my eyes.

"She'll never come with us," Clarke murmurs, rubbing her temples.

I frown. "Can't you just tell her? I'm no expert here, but isn't that part of your job as her... as her mother?"

"Ha, you've clearly never met her," she scoffs. "First of all, she happens to be a Nightblood. Born headstrong, like all of you. Secondly, remember that she's got me as an example - at least for half of her life. And last but not least..."

She doesn't finish though. Instead, she drops herself onto a crate, her back partly toward me.

"What?" I frown impatiently. Seriously, what could be more shocking than the Nightblood revelation?

"She..." Clarke takes a deep breath, then blurts out the words I didn't see coming, "She's the Commander. Madi has the Flame."

Speechless, I just stare at her.

"She accepted it shortly before we left. Before we went back into space, and into cryogenic sleep," she says, her voice more quiet now, almost sad. "She's their Heda. So she will choose to stay with the others, I'm sure of that. She feels very responsible. And I need to be at her side."

She doesn't move. She just sits there, with her eyes fixed on nothing. I squat down next to her.

"Hey, I get it. She's your kid. I would never ask you to choose. Never!"

"I know," she nods. "It does feel like a choice though. Even more than... back then."

There's nothing left of the bliss I felt last night. Seeing her this torn, I suddenly feel like I'd rather had never seen her again, than to make her go through this.

"I wish I hadn't come after you," I confess, "I only made things complicated."

She finally looks at me again, her eyes boring into mine. "Are you kidding me? You saved my life!" she exclaims. She rests her hand against my cheek, soft and tender. "You give me life."

I bite my lip, trying to keep it from trembling. "But so does she," I whisper.

Clarke just nods. There's nothing left to say.

I take her hand and scramble to my feet, pulling her up with me. "Come," I just say, "You have to go."

She heaves another sigh, nods again and follows me outside. By now my friends are busy with more important things. They probably want to leave soon. I ask Clarke to wait for just a second and hurry to my tent to get my gun barrel. On the way out I walk into Al.

"You're leaving?" she asks me.

I shake my head. "No, I'm not. I'm just bringing her back."

"Good," she smiles. "Cause you owe us one hell of an explanation about that rocket ship - or whatever that thing was. Plus, you know... you're one of us."

I return her smile. "And don't you forget it! I'll be back in about two hours. Wait for me, okay?"

She promises me that she will, then narrows her eyes. "You stay safe out there, will you?"

"Of course," I nod, then remembering it's not just me, "You don't happen to have an extra knife, do you? For Clarke?"

Al pulls a butterfly knife out of her camera bag. "She can take this one. It's a bit rusty, but I assume she won't need it for dinner."

"Let's hope she won't need it at all," I sigh, as I thankfully accept the small weapon and stow it away in my back pocket.

"So, a girl huh?" Al goes on, making me look up at her again. Her smile has grown into a full-blown grin. "If only I'd known..."

Snorting, I playfully push her away from me. "Bye Al," I call over my shoulder, "Don't go anywhere without me!"

... ...

It's about a three mile walk back to the ship.

When we cross the dense woods, I tell Clarke about the walkers - quietly, since I don't want to attract any attention. I give her Al's knife and explain how to defeat them—"Hit them in the head. Always in the head!"—and why you should avoid bites at any costs. I tell her about the Whisperers, who often pretend to be walkers, but are more dangerous since they actually do have working brains. (Although one might question that...) I reassure her that there are good people too, you just have to be careful who to trust.

I tell her everything she needs to know in the short time that is left. It's not until we're almost there, that I bring up our current situation again.

"Just talk to her, okay?" More nervous than I'd like to admit, I force my lips into a weak smile. "Who knows how she reacts?"

Clarke narrows her eyes. "I can tell her about you?" she asks.

"Just her," I nod, "No one else." By now we can see the ship through the trees. "I'll wait right here. Just in case you..." I don't finish my sentence.

She nods as well, understandingly, then takes a step away from me.

And another one.

And another one.

Right then, just when I think she won't look back, she turns around and rushes back to me. Without saying a word, she cups my face and presses her lips against mine.

One kiss.

We share one kiss before she lets go and starts running to her ship. To her people.

To her home.

... ...

Chapter Text

To feel her lips on mine again. 

In all these years I could never have dreamed of it. Yet if I had tried, If I had allowed myself to go there, I know it would have been exactly like this.

As soon as our lips touch a bolt of electricity shoots through me. They are still a perfect match.

We are still a perfect match.

Fighting the urge to deepen our kiss I reluctantly pull back. Our eyes lock, just for a short second, but long enough to tell me that we share the same thought. The same fear. The last time we parted, it took us over a century to find our way back to each other. Why does it suddenly feel we're there again?

I blink my eyes—a pointless attempt to shake off the image of what could be—and force myself to turn around. And then I start running, towards the transport ship... and away from her. I know she watches me go, but I can't look back. If I do, I'll never make it home.

And I have to. I have to see Madi. Have to see if she's alright. And maybe, against all odds, if she's willing to leave it all behind.

So I keep going. Through the forest and across the open, deserted field, straight to the Gagarin. The drawbridge is down, though guarded by two of Octavia's heavy-armed men. They don't stop me, as they recognize me straight away, and I ignore them, since I obviously don't care about them right now.

A few steps in I walk into Madi - literally, as she's restlessly pacing back and forth with her eyes on the ground. Only just managing to prevent from being tumbled over, she looks up.

"Clarke! You're safe!" She throws herself into my arms. "Thank God, you're safe!"

"I am. I'm okay," I reassure her. I break our embrace and closely examine her face. "Are you? Is everyone alright?"

She nods. "I think so. I sent out two search parties to find you. The first group just returned. They ran into some kind of... creatures. It was dark, so they couldn't really see. They said it might as well have been some animals. They got away though, everyone is fine. Just some scratches. And Diyoza got a nasty bite—"

"A bite?" I interrupt her stream of words. A flicker of panic crosses my face. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, she said she could feel teeth ripping her flesh." She narrows her eyes, looking puzzled. "It's nothing to worry about. Your mom took care of it, she sterilized the wound. Stitched her up. It really shouldn't be a problem."

"It is! It's a huge problem!" I cry out. "Madi, those creatures, they aren't animals. They are walkers. Dead people turned back to life - sort of. And one bite will turn you into one of them!"

Madi takes a step backward, shocked and confused. "You mean...?"

I swallow. "I mean Diyoza just became a hazard. A real one. We... We have to kill her brain before she turns," I explain, inhaling a sharp breath before I continue, "We have to kill her."

Madi stares at me, aghast and flabbergasted.

"H-How do you know all this?"

I glance around me. Even though we're alone right now, people can pass by at any moment. I take her by the arm and lead her into an adjacent room. After closing the door behind us, I take a deep breath and face her again.

"Lexa told me," I blurt out.

"Lexa?! You found another Lexa here?" Madi frowns.

I shake my head. "No. No, I didn't. I... I found my Lexa."

Madi blinks in surprise. "Your Lexa?" she questions astonished. I can see the worry growing in her eyes. "Are you really okay? Did... Did someone drug you, or something? You know Lexa died, right? A long time ago?"

A small sigh escapes me. "Yes, I was there," I breathe. I take her by both shoulders, less gently than I intend to. "Madi, I'm not going crazy. She's here. She uhm, she started over somehow. She's living a new life, with new people. A new name even. But it's really her. Inside and out. It's Lexa."

The look on her face tells me she has a real hard time believing me. She seems to try though.

"How is that even possible?" she quietly asks.

I let go of her, heaving another sigh. "I don't know. She doesn't either. She remembers her life, even her death, but nothing much after that."

For a moment Madi keeps silent, and so do I. I understand. It's a lot to wrap your head around. Eventually, she's the first to speak up, taking me by surprise when she does.

"The City of Light," she states.

"What?"

"The City of Light. That's where she's been."

Now I'm the one to frown. "But that can't be. I pulled the kill switch. I destroyed it!"

"No, you didn't. You only changed the purpose," she corrects me. "You brought the living back. The ones with the chip. But The City of Light was not just a place for the living, was it? It was a place for the deceased as well. Not all of them. Just the—"

"—Nightbloods," I finish her sentence

Madi nods.

"Who told you all this?" I ask her, but she stays quiet, her lips pressed together. "The Flame," I answer my own question.

Once again she just nods.

Feeling exhausted all of a sudden, I take a seat on one of the benches. Madi follows my example.

"So? Where is she?" she asks me with a clear hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Out in the woods. She..." I fall quiet and clear my throat. We've reached the difficult part. "She doesn't want to come back. With or without the Flame, she will be seen as the Commander again. Maybe not by everyone, but still. And she's very certain she doesn't want that anymore. She chooses her new life."

"Over you?" Madi asks, drawing her eyebrows together.

I slowly shake my head. "Not necessarily. She asked me to come with her. Try to settle down somewhere. Without—"

"—us?"

"Yes. No! Not all of you. I told her about you, and you can come. Of course you can come!" I take her hands into mine - firmly, like I don't ever want to let go again. "Madi, you have to come. You need to come!"

Madi surveys my face. "Why?"

"Why?!" I exclaim bewildered, "Because I can't leave you behind! You're way too young, and—"

"Clarke!" she cuts me off, "I'm not a kid anymore!"

"But you are!"

"No, I'm not! Don't you see it? I'm a leader now. I'm their Heda!" She pulls her hand away from mine and waves it around like the room is filled with people. "The people of Wonkru, they listen to me."

"Yes, they do. But they don't take care of you. Not like I do. They worship you like a leader, but Madi, to me you're so much more!" I get up and kneel down in front of her. "Maybe you don't feel like a child anymore. And you know, I get that. But to me you are still a child. You're my child. And I love you so much, in a way they never will."

"I love you too, Clarke," she softly smiles, "But you know I can't come. I have a job to do. People rely on me."

I nod. I do know. I know it's useless, I know there's no way I'll change her mind. So I shouldn't even try.

"Then I will stay wi—"

"But you should go," she interrupts me, sounding very determined. "You should be where you belong, and in the end that's not with me. It's with her."

I jump to my feet. "No! No, it's not!"

"Clarke, I've seen the pain in your eyes when you spoke about her. The tears when you thought no-one could see you. Did you know you talk about her in your sleep? Even after all these years, she has never ever left your mind."

Frantically, I shake my head again. "I won't leave you."

Madi stands up as well. She faces me and I suddenly realize it won't be long anymore until we're actually eye to eye. When did she grow this big?

"Then I'm sending you away," she states. "I banish you."

I open my mouth to protest, but no words come out. Is she for real?

"You saved my life in so many ways," she goes on in a softer tone. "One of them was by giving me a family. It's not just you and me anymore, there are other people now to look after me. Bellamy, Octavia, Niylah, Echo... even Murphy. They care about me, too. I will be okay. For that I don't need to see how much you love me. But I do need to see how much you love you."

Still speechless I just stare at her.

"So go! Go be with her. And settle down and... be happy! You deserve it, more than anyone."

I feel a tear sliding down my cheek. I quickly brush it away. "I don't want to lose you," I whisper, fighting the lump in my throat.

"You won't. We've been here before, remember? So let me be the one to say it this time: we will meet again."

She forces a half smile and somehow I manage to do the same.

"I come back for you," I tell her, without room for any debate. "Soon!"

"I know," she nods, "You always do."

Not knowing what to say anymore I pull her in for the tightest hug.

"Goodbye, Child from Hell," I breathe into her hair, drawing a soft chuckle from her.

"Goodbye... Nomon kom Skai..." she murmurs, holding me close, before brusqly pushing me away from her. I manage to let go, press a kiss on her forehead and turn around.

For the second time today I don't look back.

On my way out I grab a gun from the small weapon room. I don't take anything else. I don't own squat anyway.

After leaving the ship, I start to run again. Although I feel heavy with sadness, I can't stop the smile on my face from growing. Beaming, and slightly out of breath, I reach the spot where I left Lexa behind.

She's gone.

... ...

Chapter Text

"You think we'll make it?" 

I turn around and look at Al, who hands me another piece of canvas to load into the truck. "Hope so," she shrugs. "According to Morgan, it shouldn't be that far anymore. We only have a few drops left though."

I shove the canvas under one of the benches, then rest my hand against the cool metal of the vehicle. "Are you ready to say goodbye to her yet?"

This time she doesn't answer me. Instead, she slowly shakes her head and takes a seat on one of the steps. I join her.

"Shouldn't we be used to it by now?" Al muses after a minute of comfortable silence. Her eyes are on our friends who are breaking down the camp. "Wouldn't it be easier if we became immune for goodbyes? For loss?"

"Easier? Yes," I nod, following her gaze, "But also inhuman. Feelings, even the shitty ones, are the one thing that separates us from all the bad out there. They keep us going. And they do make us who we are."

She turns her head, facing me. "Someone who wants to cry over the loss of an old truck?"

Shrugging my shoulders I give her a half grin. "Apparently," I giggle, before playfully bumping her shoulder with mine. "But hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You two have been inseparable for years. You can shed a tear over that."

For a moment we just keep sitting there, nostalgically smiling over something that's soon to become a memory.

"How about you?" Al breaks our silence. "Any tears at your goodbye this morning?"

My smile fades away and I avert my eyes. "I can't talk about that," I sigh, my voice suddenly unstable.

"You can't or you don't want to?"

"I..." I think back of this morning, of Clarke running away from me, and feel a sharp pain hitting my chest. "I can't," I mumble.

Al turns further towards me, careful not to fall of the small rung. "I'm sorry," she sighs.

I look up at her. "What? No, don't be. You didn't know—"

"I mean about whatever you're going through," she interrupts me. "I have no clue what's going on, but I can tell it's hurting you. And I hate to see that. You're my friend, and no one should make you feel like that."

I slowly exhale before showing her a weak smile. "No one does," I breathe, hardly audible, "No one but me."

She rests her hand on my knee and gently squeezes it. "Well, I am still sorry," she says. "For you, but also a little bit for me."

I frown at her, my eyes questioning, while a twinkle appears in hers. "You could at least have given me an hour alone with her."

Caught off guard by her directness, my jaw drops. Yet before I can reprimand her, I'm the one who gets shoulder-bumped. "I'm talking about an interview!" Al laughs, and despite everything I simply can't help but laugh along with her.

Tapping my knee, she stands up. "Come on, let's help the others. It's time to leave this place."

I jump to the ground, but don't follow her just yet. Instead I watch her join the group. Watch how they collect the rest of our stuff - efficiently and organized, but also at ease, clearly well attuned to each other after all this time. I watch a group that turned into a well-oiled machine. A family even.

I made the right choice by staying. I know I did.

So why does it hurt so freaking much?

Trying to pull myself together, I heave a sigh and turn around. With my eyes on the ground I walk to the cabin of the truck. My mind is elsewhere. It shouldn't be. In a world this dangerous, it should never be. This time is no exception.

The rough push against my shoulder comes out of nowhere. I stumble backwards, even more when a second push follows.

"You left me!!"

Struggling to stay on my feet, I manage to look up.

It's Clarke. And she looks furious.

"You left me!" she calls again as she gives me a final shove. My back hits the truck while she takes another step forward, closing me in. She isn't done. "You said you'd stay with me," she cries out as she starts hitting me, vigorously and with eyes spitting fire. "But you left. You left me again."

For a second I feel I should let her, like she should hit me, cause yes, she's right - I left her. She's allowed to be angry, and if she feels better by hurting me... But then I see it. Her pain, hidden behind her anger. She doesn't want to do this. She just lost control.

She needs my help.

I lift my arms, protecting my face from her persistent blows, before I'm finally able to grab her wrists. Still enraged she keeps fighting me, keeps trying to pull herself loose. I notice how much stronger she's become, but I refuse to let go.

"Lexa!" she shouts as we wrestle for dominance, "Let me go! Let me—" She continues to writhe, forces me to tighten my grip. "Let me go!"

"Clarke!" I hiss, "Clarke, stop it! You're hurting yourself!"

As she keeps struggling, I can tell she hardly sees me. She does seem to hear me though. It's the slight hesitation of her body in reaction to my voice that gives her away, and that keeps me going. Keeps me talking to her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Clarke. I didn't mean to... didn't want to... I-I didn't think you'd come back. Please, you got to believe me! You got to—"

And then she finally gives up.

She lets go, completely out of breath, slumping her shoulders with the deepest sigh. At last her eyes find mine. They're telling me this isn't a trick. Whether she believes me or not, she's done.

I exhale and slowly lower our arms.

"I'm sorry," I quietly tell her again. I loosen my grip on her wrists and gently rub my thumbs over the harmed skin. "I'm sorry for hurting you."

We both know I'm not talking about these bruises.

"You left me," she gasps once more, her lip quivering and her chest still rising and falling with rapid breaths.

I open my mouth to speak up, to apologize, to explain... but I don't get the chance.

Before I can say another word, she brusquely leans in to connect our lips - almost in that same fierceful way as she just attacked me in. The moment comes so sudden, it takes me by complete surprise. I don't need long to adapt though. Kissing Clarke has always been like breathing, it's the most natural thing I know of. So not needing to give it a second thought, I part my lips and welcome her in.

The kiss is hungry, filled with urge and desperation. It's not sweet, it's claiming. It's a question—a supplication even—as well as an answer.

And it's the both of us.

It's the both of us clinging to each other for dear life.

When we finally do break apart she keeps leaning into me, pinning me against the truck, her forehead lightly touching mine.

"Don't ever leave me again," she pants. Her warm breath hits my lips.

"I-I just thought..." I stammer, "I mean, I don't get it. You can't be here. Madi would never agree. The voices of the Commanders, they are so strong. They would never..." I swallow, pushing away some unwelcome memories. "They keep you trapped, you know. Like a prisoner. As long as she has the Flame—"

"Shhh," Clarke shushes me, "You're right. Madi isn't here."

"But you are. It's just... It's not possible. I know you would never leave her," I state, certain yet confused.

She squints her eyes, gazing at me with her chin tilted up. "You never even waited, did you? You never believed I'd come back to you?"

"I couldn't," I confess, my eyes now on the ground. I shake my head. "I was so sure that the Flame would win. I couldn't allow myself the hope that I was wrong. You see hope, it's the one enemy I can't beat. I learned that the hard way."

"You know what I just learned the hard way? How fucked up these woods are!"

"I didn't know you would cross them - let alone all by yourself!" I exclaim, "You were supposed to choose Madi!"

Clarke takes a small step backwards. "I did," she admits, "She uhm... she banished me. She sent me away."

My head shoots up and I stare at her, bewildered. "She did what?!"

"She told me to be with you," she goes on. "Or...?"

I narrow my eyes. "Or what?"

Mirroring my expression she cocks her head a little. "Or did you? Are you still in her head, somehow?"

"What?! No!" I cry out. "I mean, I can't remember ever being in there, but... no! I would never do anything like that. Force you to be somewhere? No! You wouldn't be you without your loyalty. That's why I—"

We both freeze. Seconds pass by.

Oh, screw it!

"That's why I love you," I finish the sentence I once couldn't.

I can see how my words reach her. How her body slacks and the air escapes her lungs; the air she might have been holding in since forever. How she suddenly looks like something has set her free. But she doesn't say anything in return.

She just pulls me back in, pressing her lips on mine.

Her touch is softer than before, the kiss less urgent, but full of affection instead. It makes me want to drown in her embrace.

But I can't. A loud, unexpected voice startles me.

"Alicia!?"

Pulled out of the moment, I feel a little disorientated for a second. I look around, until my eyes find Strand.

"Can't say you two aren't entertaining, but we really have to go," he remarks from a short distance. "The back is cramped, all seats are taken. If your friend is coming, then you two have to squeeze yourself into the passenger seat."

I nod, then look at Clarke again. "You go sit in the cabin, next to Al. I'll be right there."

I let go of her and walk away, yet I stop when I look over my shoulder and realize she isn't moving.

"Clarke?"

She blinks. "If I come with you... If we leave these woods..."

She falls quiet, but I think I know what worries her. Hurrying myself back to her, I take her hands into my own. "We come back for her. This place we're going, it's not far," I reassure her. "But it's safe. More safe than being out here. When we get there, we make a plan. Clarke?"

She looks up. Our eyes lock.

"We get her back. I promise!"

Letting out a long, deep breath, she slowly nods.

"Okay," I force myself to smile. Truth is I have no clue how to defeat the Flame. I just know we can't stay here. "I just need to get my barrel. I'll be right with you."

She nods again and this time she does actually turn around. I speed to the back of the truck and note that everyone is in there already. Strand, sitting next to the backdoor, is holding my weapon - knowing too well I was coming for it. Yet right when he's about to hand it to me, he pulls back again.

"Now, call me crazy, but did she just call you Lexa?" he questions, a curious look on his face.

My brows snap together. "Seriously? You were eavesdropping?!"

"I prefer calling it coming to rescue when a friend is getting attacked. You just didn't seem to need the help after all," he winks. "Now what's with the name?"

"Nothing," I sigh, grabbing the barrel from his hands. "You heard wrong."

Turning around, I quickly make my way to the cabin and climb in. Squeezing myself next to Clarke, I close the door and tell Al we are good to go.

"We used to have more space," I tell Clarke as I wrap my arm around her so we're both sitting a bit more comfortable - and also because I really want to. "We were driving two trucks, but we had to ditch one as we couldn't find enough gasoline anymore. Won't take long before we lose this one, too."

She tilts her head. "This plan— place, I mean, hasn't always been like this, has it?"

I shake my head. "No, it hasn't. It used to be alright."

"So when did it change?"

"Frankly, I lost track of time. Seven, eight years ago maybe? Al, what do you think?"

I look next to me, suddenly realizing this conversation must make no sense to my friend.

"Yeah, sounds about right. Feels like twenty though," she nods, before curiously looking at Clarke. "You're not from around, are you?"

"She's from California," I quickly come in between, "just like me."

"So you guys go far back?"

Clarke looks at me, then back at Al. "Like you wouldn't believe," she grins, before nestling herself a little bit more into my arms.

The rest of the ride we are mostly quiet. Fortunately we are not bothered by blockages or other road problems, and our tank seems to be just full enough for this last ride. Morgan, sitting right behind Al, tells her where to go and ultimately where to stop.

"We're almost there. Let's walk the last part, since our vehicle doesn't look as friendly as we do," he suggests.

The walk is short indeed, it only takes a couple of minutes before we get the first glimpse of the community. Or the walls around it, actually. As we slowly approach, we can see guards on top of them. Getting even closer we can see their faces.

That's the moment Clarke and I abruptly stop walking.

"Is that...?" Clarke cries out, right when I start asking her the same.

We look at each other, almost too flabbergasted to finish our own questions. But we do, together in one breath.

"...Luna?!"

... ...

Chapter Text

We're lead towards the gate by a man named Morgan, as I've learned by now, who's apparently been here before. There are eleven of us. Is that a lot? How many men and women will be behind that wall? Probably way more.

We come to a hold as one.

"I'd like to see Maggie," Morgan tells the armed man at the gate. His voice is calm, almost polite.

The guard crosses his arms. A scowl darkens his face. "Maggie is gone," he states.

The news seem to shock Morgan. To unbalance him. "Did she... did they get her?"

"No," the man answers, shaking his head. "She just left. Joined another group. Who are you, anyway?"

"Morgan!"

The reply isn't coming from Morgan himself. It's coming from someone showing up behind the guard. A woman, as it turns out when she gets closer to us.

"Tara!" Morgan's face lights up. "How about that? You live here now?"

"Worse," she snorts, "I'm running this ship."

"Then you're the one I need to talk to," he smiles. "We're looking for a place to stay. To settle down for a while."

She narrows her eyes, drawing a thin line between her brows. "All of you?"

Morgan nods and takes a step closer to her. "Yes, all of us. I know we're with many, but we can all help out. And I can tell you these are all good people. I've traveled with them for years, I know all of them very well," he tells her before partly turning around to follow her gaze, as she's already checking us out like we're on some kind of meat market. His eyes linger on me for a second. "Almost all of them," he quietly adds.

When he faces her again, she shrugs apologetically. "I'm sorry, Morgan, but we don't have the space for that many people. We accepted a group of five just a few weeks ago, they got the last trailer. We're packed."

"We've got tent—"

"Besides," she goes on, ignoring his attempt to convince her, "you might know them, but we don't. And like you said, it's been years. Things have changed. We've all changed. Who tells me you didn't? Who says you are still our Morgan?"

"You don't trust me?!" It's hard to tell if it's a question or an insult. I can't see his face, but he sounds stunned. This clearly isn't the welcome he was counting on.

"I want to, but come on, you know we have to be very cautious," Tara shrugs again. "We can't be naive. To us you are ten strangers. Eleven if we count you."

"We're not all strangers."

The words are out before I know it. Yet before I can worry if this is my smartest move, I already hear myself go on. "We know her."

I point at Luna.

Tara looks surprised. "You do?"

Without waiting for my confirmation, she turns around. "Magna!" she calls for Luna, who's still up on one of the walls, "Can you come down for a second?"

Before Tara's focus is back on me, Lexa swiftly leans in. "Clarke, what are you doing?" she murmurs beneath her breath.

I look at her from the corner of my eye. "Trying to get us in," I whisper. "Isn't that what we're here for?"

"Yes, but don't you think—"

She can't finish.

"What is it?" Luna—or Magna was it?—questions as soon as she shows up next to Tara.

Tara faces her. "These people claim to know you. Is that true?"

"Not all of us!" I quickly clarify, "Just us." I gesture at Lexa and myself.

With a blank expression on her face, Luna gives the both of us a once-over before turning to Tara again. She gives a dismissive wave of her hand. "Never seen them before. Whatever they're selling, don't buy it."

As she's about to turn around, I instinctively take a big step forward, though I stop right there as I catch the guard doing the same.

"Wait!" I try to stop her nonetheless. "Please, I know it's been years, but—"

"You question my memory?" she snarks, taking a step closer as well; a little too close for my liking, to be honest. On the other hand, the fact that she's this intimidating just proves to me that it's really her.

"No, she doesn't." Lexa rests her hand on my shoulder and discreetly pulls me two steps back. "We're just talking about a real long time ago. I believe I haven't seen you since I was twelve, so..."

Luna frowns. "Seen me where?"

"At the... At the training," Lexa answers her. I can tell she carefully weighs her words, trying to avoid names and places, yet also realizing she does need to give her at least something, since Luna just keeps staring at her. "You know, for the Conclave? We were both novitiates."

"Novi-whats?"

As Lexa tries to evoke the memory, I search for a sign of recognition on Luna's face, but there is none. She isn't lying. She really doesn't remember.

And she's really not going to help us.

Luna turns towards Tara again, showing us her back. "Seriously, I have no clue what they're talking about. They're frauds. You should send them away."

She doesn't wait for Tara's response, neither does she give us a second look; she just walks away. I follow her with my eyes, watch how she meets another woman halfway between us and some big mansion in the far back. The woman wraps her arm around her and pulls her close. She kisses her temple. They laugh.

"... can't right now, I need to talk to some others."

Tara's voice coming from afar draws my attention back to her conversation with Morgan.

"I'm not sending you away," she tells him, "but I can't let you in either. For now you can set up your camp over there, next to those crops."

When I peek over her shoulder one last time, Luna is out of sight. And when Tara closes the gate behind her, the entire settlement is.

Mission failed.

We all look at each other. "Now what?" a woman called June wonders out loud.

"Set up camp," Morgan sighs, "And hope for the best."

Together we walk back to the truck. I make sure to stay close to Lexa - not just because there might be walkers around, but because I am very aware of the disappointment of the group - a heavy feeling that outweighs the fear of the living dead.

"I made it worse, didn't I?" I quietly ask her.

She takes my hand. "Maybe," she admits, "But maybe we didn't stand a chance to begin with."

"Your friends might feel different. They might want me to leave now," I mutter. I can feel panic sneaking up on me. Will I lose her if they do?

"No, they won't," Lexa calmly reassures me with a light squeeze. I mirror her action, only to hold on more tight. "Like Morgan said, they're good people. They're not out to judge, or punish. The days that we're all at each other's throats—sometimes even literally—are far behind us."

I look aside, the corner of my mouth quirking up in sudden amusement. "You've come a long way."

She returns my smile in a way that makes my belly flutter. "You have no idea," she grins.

We make it back to the truck without any trouble and drive it to the designated spot next to the vegetable patch, and close to the wall. The tents are up in no time, and Lexa and I retreat in ours.

"This isn't right," she sighs. "Being this close to a wall that can actually protect us, yet being at the wrong side of it."

Rolling out the mattresses, and making sure they're right next to each other this time, I look at her over my shoulder. "You think it would have made a difference? With Luna, I mean. Would she indeed have helped us, if she remembered?"

Lexa hands me the blankets. "I don't know, she might have. The Luna I knew would have."

"I hate to tell you that she changed a lot after your—"

I fall quiet mid-sentence.

"—after my passing," she completes my words, showing me a soft, warm smile. "It's okay, Clarke. I'm okay. I found my next shore, remember?"

I force myself to answer her smile, despite that I can only offer her a sad one in return. I'm glad that she's okay. Relieved to know she didn't suffer, and that she was able to leave it all behind her, even though that meant she forgot about me. But I never forgot about her. I had to live with it, for all those years. With the pain, with missing her every single day. Yes, we found each other again, in some miraculous way, but every day I spent without her feels like a lost one. There's nothing that can change that.

Heaving a small sigh, I lie down on top of the blankets. Lexa watches me, then follows my example, nestling herself in my arms.

"What happened to her?" she asks, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

I swallow. "She died in pain."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"That's not what I mean. I'm not talking about a painful death - although from what I've heard, it wasn't a good one. I'm talking about darkness," I start to explain, making sure to keep my voice down. "To you, she is the girl who stopped fighting. Who went away to live her life in peace. Believing there was still good in the world, that people were good. And worth saving. That's how I met her as well. But Lexa, she lost it all. Her entire clan. Her faith in humanity. And in the end, even  herself. The last time I saw her, I hardly recognized her. She was bitter, and angry, and just... giving up on the world."

Lexa doesn't say anything. I give her a second to process it all, before I quietly continue, "And that's why I'm not sure we should try again. What if remembering means going back to that very last moment, to that very last memory, right before the fear of—" I can't help but hesitate once again. "—the fear of dying?"

"It does," Lexa slowly nods. "But it's not a bad feeling. Remembering made me feel happy. Of course there was this sadness and unfairness of how I'd got ripped away, but it brought a smile to my face nonetheless. Because..." Tilting her head, she looks up at me through her lashes. "Because more than anything, I felt blissful in that very last moment. Because I was with you."

She lifts her hand and tenderly caresses my cheek, following the contour of my jaw and my chin, before resting it on my chest - on my heart.

"My whole life had been about this predestination," she continues. "Being a Natblida, I always felt I simply had to... exist. Exist and play my part. Be this person, this Commander, people expected me to be. I felt like I never lived for me. Until my final hour. Being with you finally made me feel alive."

Not knowing whether to cry or laugh, I lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"And so did remembering that past?" I ask, my lips grazing against her skin. "It made you feel alive?"

Lexa props up on her elbow and gazes down at me. "Yes," she simply answers. With our eyes locked, she brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. "But that wasn't all. As soon as I saw you again, it just hit me. I... I just knew..."

"What?" I breathe.

"I knew that for you I'd die all over again."

Lost for words I just stare at her. Watch how her lips curve into the cutest smile, before she closes the gap between us to kiss me. I open my mouth to welcome her, to kiss her back, and as soon as I do I immediately forget everything around me.

There's only one thought left breaking through my clouded mind: I'm home.

One kiss turns into another, and another, quickly changing from sweet to passionate. I can feel my heartbeat rising. Hear our breathing increase. My hands slide up, until they find the lapels of her leather jacket. I scoop it off her shoulders, eager to pull her in again. Yet right when she's about to reconnect our lips, she pulls back and looks around.

With her head not even two feet away from the flimsy canvas, and the indistinct chatter of her people within hearing distance, she suddenly seems very aware of where we are... and what we're doing.

As she takes a deep breath, she looks down on me again, a little sheepishly. A soft chuckle escapes me.

It's okay. This isn't the time, or the place.

Giggling too, Lexa rests her head on my shoulder again. I press another kiss on top of her head and pull her a little closer. For a while we just lay like this, blissful and content. But then I remember what we were actually talking about before.

"I'm really glad these recollections haven't hurt you," I break our silence, "But it also kinda proves my point. About Luna, I mean."

I can feel her smile against my skin. "Does your brain ever catch a break?" she hums.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, drawing another laugh from her.

"I'm not!" she chuckles, "You wouldn't be you without your strategic mind. Tell me, what about Luna?"

I sit up, forcing her to do the same, and look at her. "Like I said, she wasn't doing well. She wasn't in a good place, like you. If it's true that you pick up right where you left off, if we bring her back to that place, to that moment... we might change her—the new her—forever."

Lexa raises her brow. "Change her from what though?"

"From someone who is actually happy now? I know, she seemed a bit defensive at the gate, but I reckon everyone would be in this world. And I watched her when she walked away from us, when she let her guard down. She looked comfortable. Relaxed. Like she's... like she's at home."

"And you're afraid we could ruin that?"

"Honestly? Yes," I admit.

She bites her lip, looking pensive.

"You might be right," she nods understandingly, "But you might also underestimate who she is today. Remember how I told you I am as much Alicia as I am Lexa? That really is the deal. It's fifty-fifty. Lexa isn't in control. If she were, I'd be in that spaceship of yours right now, back in command."

"You're saying we should trust on... Magna, was it?"

"I'm saying we should take the risk, hoping that I'm right," she says, "If we want to live, like actually live, without constantly having to look over our shoulders, we need protection. We need a wall."

"Even if we might damage her?"

She exhales, her eyes still fixed on mine. "You think it's harsh. But—"

"—that's how we survive?"

I can't suppress a small smile. I'm not the only one who hasn't changed.

"In this case, yes," she lifts her shoulder in a half shrug. "I don't plan on fighting her. I don't want any war. I want to live with them, peacefully, or move on. But I think we should give this a try."

Now I'm the one nodding. I hate to admit it, but I think she's right. "But how though? She remembered neither of us, nor her own past."

"Because we're not the key here," Lexa quietly muses, almost to herself, her eyes now focused onto nothing. "I mean, in my case, yes, some things started to surface when I saw the ship. I got this déjà vu feeling, maybe because the whole spectacle was so absurd, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't until I saw you that it all came back to me."

She looks up at me again. "It was like you were the last one I saw when I closed my eyes, and the first one when I opened them again."

"Well, if that's the case, than I'm afraid I have bad news," I sigh.

Lexa sharply inhales, holding her breath for a second. "She got killed, didn't she? Someone did this to her, on purpose?"

I just nod.

"And her killer isn't with you?"

"Oh no, she's with us," I sigh again. "Her killer is Octavia."

... ...

Chapter Text

We get up as soon as the first ray of light hits the ground. We pack light, since we don't plan on staying away too long. On staying with them.

Her people.

My people...

I'm not ready to face them. I'm not ready to be me again. That part of me.

Clarke knows. More than that: she accepts. She doesn't push me. She doesn't force me to be that one and only person she once got to know. And I realize all too well how selfless, how exceptional that is.

It reminds me of the time we met. Two people from different worlds, with different ideas and different customs. Yet she didn't ridicule ours. She didn't question us. Well, not at first at least. She adjusted. And with that she impressed me.

Oh man, did she impress me. Not just by everything she did, but by who she was. She made me fall for her, like no one ever did before... or after.

And now, years later, she's doing it all over again.

"You're ready to go?"

A little startled, I blink. Did she catch me staring at her?

"Y-Yeah, I am. Let's do this," I nod.

We reckon it's about a six hour walk, more if we run into trouble. It would be safer if we follow yesterday's winding main road, but also triple the distance. A day at least. For some reason it doesn't feel like an option.

So we choose the shortcut through the woods.

"Tell me about her," I inquire as soon as we've left the camp. "About Octavia."

Last night, after learning that it was Octavia who took Luna's life, we had to drop the subject as we were called for dinner, and although there'd been plenty of time after that, I just couldn't get myself to drag her away from the others. Seeing her chatting with June and Lucy, goofing around with Charlie, taking first watch with Strand—basically watching her slowly step into my world—I just had to let her be. Well, let her be and look at her, with an undeniable flutter in my heart and an indelible smile on my lips.

It must have been the first night in a long, long time that I felt slightly relaxed again. I'd almost say happy, if it wouldn't be too scary to admit such a thing.

But that was last night.

Today is about reality again. About wanting more nights like that, way more, and the need to build that. The need for an actual life. The need for safety. 

Clarke looks at me. She heaves a heavy sigh. "Well, you know part of her story. How she never really got to live until she got to the ground. How she found her tribe there, feeling related to the Grounders instead of, well, us."

"Yet she killed one?"

"More than one," she corrects me. "But I'm not there yet."

As we keep walking she tells me about Lincoln's death and how it affected Octavia. And about Second Praimfaya, the threat that was bigger than all the clans together. The death wave that was going to be the end of the world. She tells me about the bunker, that wasn't big enough for everyone. And about the final conclave. One champion from each clan fighting to the death, until one would remain. First price, apart from staying alive: the bunker.

"Despite her dreadful history in space, and one of our own chancellors executing Lincoln, Octavia fought for Skaikru."

"And won?"

"And won," Clarke nods.

I narrow my eyes. "By killing them all?"

She slowly shakes her head. "By killing the last one... Luna."

"Luna?" I frown. "Why would she fight? You told me she'd lost her clan. Who would she share that bunker with?!"

"No one. She was willing to go down... and take the whole world with her," Clarke answers quietly, before shrugging her shoulders - almost apologetically. "I told you she'd gone dark."

We stay quiet for a moment. I try to picture Luna the way she turned out. The girl I grew up with. My sister... kind of. The girl who didn't want to fight.

I can't.

"After winning the conclave, Octavia surprised everyone by refusing to only take Skaikru into the bunker," she goes on. "With twelve clans left, she decided each clan could choose a hundred people to stay in there. To survive Praimfaya. With that, Wonkru was born."

I look up in surprise. "A coalition?"

She doesn't get the chance to react. As I keep staring at her, instead of watching the ground in front of me like I should, I trip over a root sticking out. Clarke reaches out fast, grabbing my arm to prevent me from an ugly mud dive. Only when she sees that I'm scatheless, she lets go of me again and answers in a mocking tone, "I wouldn't call it that. There weren't any ambassadors, to start with. Just one leader: Queen Octavia." Without slowing down, she rests her hand on my shoulder. "Believe me, she was nothing like you!"

I glance at her, making sure not to stumble again, and scoff. "You make it sound like I was some saint. Like I tried to unite those clans by inviting them over for tea, instead of fighting wars over it. Like I never kicked those against me off my balcony. Or—"

I fall quiet when I feel her arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me tight into her embrace. She nudges her nose into my hair, then kisses the skin underneath.

"I mostly remember how you stopped doing all that. For me," she hums, her warm breath caressing my neck.

Wide-eyed, I turn around in her arms to face her. "You're saying I went all... all... weak...? For you?!"

Trying—but failing—to keep a straight face, she raises her brows. "You didn't?" she chuckles.

"No!" I exclaim. However, my attempt to appear offended does not last long as the corner of my mouth already starts to lift. "I mean, maybe I took it down a notch, you know, and maybe, just maybe, that was a little bit because of you," I mumble. "You did teach me a thing or two."

Clarke leans in for a quick peck on my lips. "Thank you," she winks, "That's all I wanted to hear." She rests her forehead against mine. "And for the record, I'd never call you weak. You're the strongest warrior, the strongest woman I ever met. A soft side doesn't bite strength, you know. It only adds to it."

A small sigh escapes me, telling me I'm quickly losing self-control. I close the distance between us. With our lips already brushing against each other, she quietly continues, "Plus it makes you look adorably cute."

"Ugh!" I grumble, abruptly taking a step backwards. "That's it. No more kisses for you!"

Bursting into laughter, she shakes her head. "Only making it worse, dear," she grins. "Only making it worse."

I want to keep muttering, but her laugh is too contagious; I can barely get out a Shut up! before cracking up as well.

"Alright," I giggle as soon as I can form any words again, "Let's just move on!" and we both know I don't mean that just figuratively. Both still smiling widely, we continue our way, well aware that we can't afford ourselves to linger.

"Maybe that was the thing though," Clarke muses after a few minutes, now almost sounding like she's simply thinking out loud. "With Octavia, I mean. She'd lost it all, just like Luna had, except for the urge to do good. To be fair. And although that's a great intention, it's not easy. Especially when you're alone. And she was. She had no one to fight with." She takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. "No one to fight for."

I give her a soft squeeze. "Sounds lonely."

"Yeah, it does," she sighs, before suddenly changing her tone again. "Wouldn't call it an excuse for turning into a bloodthirsty dictator though. And that's—in the end—the question we're dealing with right now: who are we going to wake up when we get to the ship? Octavia... or Blodreina?"

With her question hanging in the air we keep walking, sometimes in silence, sometimes while sharing updates about our lives, but walking nonetheless. The sun is already high in the sky, and telling me we must be getting close, when I decide it's time for that other question.

"So, tell me..." I start, as I try to ignore the sudden nervous twitch in my stomach, "Has there ever been anyone else?"

I force myself to look at her, to smile. I need her to know that I understand, no matter what her answer is.

She mirrors my smile, yet with a hint of melancholy, then slowly nods. Just once.

"For a little while, yes," she admits. "Niylah... kom Trikru."

"Another Grounder?" A soft chuckle escapes me, releasing some tension I was holding within. "I guess you have a type."

Not able to hide her pink cheeks, she joins my laughter. "Do you mind?" she grins, and I can't, just like I can't deny that she never looked any cuter.

The moment passes quickly though.

With her face turning all serious again, she continues, "We weren't together, or anything. I wasn't... we weren't in love." She swallows. "After I lost you, I was... broken. I could barely function. Yet I felt like the whole world was looking at me, like everyone counted on me. First there was ALIE, then Praimfaya. It never stopped. Niylah was my break. My moment to breathe, to just be me. She accepted me, took care of me, kept me sane... but never asked me for anything in return."

"I'm glad she was there for you," I tell her, and I mean it.

"I care a lot about her, I really do. She got me through it. But she was a bandage, she was there to stop the bleeding."

As if on cue we both stop walking. She looks at me again, and as our eyes meet I nod understandingly.

"Your Niylah sounds like my Jake," I softly smile as my memory goes out to him.

"What happened?" she asks when I stay quiet.

For a second I just keep staring into nothing. Then I clear my throat and look her in the eye. "He died," I shrug. "They all die."

I know I sound bitter. I guess, when it comes to this, I am bitter.

Clarke steps forward and takes my hands into her own. "I won't," she simply states.

I raise my eyebrows. "You still have no clue where you ended up, haven't you?"

"Oh, I do," she sets me straight. She's got a serious look on her face, yet her eyes shine brighter than ever. "I ended up exactly where I needed to be."

"With me?" I murmur, looking away as I suddenly feel a bit shyish. She gently lifts my chin and connects our eyes again.

"With you," she nods affirmative. "Listen, it took me over a century to get here. I'm not saying I survived worse, cause I simply don't know. But I do know that I don't plan on losing it all again. On losing you again. So dying... nope... not an option."

Shifting from one foot to the other, I take in a deep breath. "You can't say that, you have no i—"

"But I do! And I can! Lexa, I can say that. Don't you see? You told me you would die for me, and even though I hope you never have to, I believe you. I believe you would. Now I'm telling you that I'll live for you. And you have to believe me that I will."

I swallow.

I want to. So badly.

"I changed my mind," I mumble, making her frown.

"About what?"

The right corner of my lip slowly curves, showing her a small grin. "About no longer kissing you."

With her eyes twinkling she takes a small step toward me. That's when I hear the sound.

The sound of a zinging, well-aimed arrow.

... ...

Chapter Text

"Got her!" Miko exclaims right next to me. "Straight in the head!"

We step out of the bushes. The two young women on the other side of the small glade stare at us in shock. While Miko walks toward her target to get her arrow back, I approach them.

"Are you guys willingly looking for trouble, or what?"

They quickly close their jaws. "You've been following us?" the blonde questions me, finding her cool again seemingly easy.

"You gave us no choice." Somewhat defiantly, I raise my chin. "I saw you two sneaking off this morning, straight into Whisperer's territory. If you cause any trouble here, we'll be the ones to be held accountable. We'll pay the price. Believe me, it wouldn't be the first time."

The other girl takes a step forward; the one who made up this crazy, shared childhood nonsense to win us over.

"Why would we cause any trouble?"

"Well, to start with, you're not paying any attention," I scoff, as I wiggle my brows and nod in the direction of the now lifeless body lying six feet away from them. "Jeez, you know how tiring it is watching you two, being all over each other? You're acting like you haven't seen each other in a lifetime!"

They share a look, right when Yumiko joins us. "And?" I ask her, "Walker or Whisperer?"

"Walker," she answers. "The only one it seems, though we can't be sure. There's some kind of rope around her middle that looks suspiciously clean."

I open my mouth, but don't get the chance to react. Before I fully realize what's happening, the brunette dives on top of me like a lioness, using her full weight. Taking me down with her in her fall, we both land on the ground.

"What the h—" I shout out, but I abruptly fall still when I catch the big, sharp knife that's stuck in the tree, right behind were I'd just been standing. Two pair of wide eyes, Yumiko's and the blonde's, stare in fear at something not far behind me. I swiftly glance over my shoulder. Whisperers! Two, to be exact.

They're no giants, but they're both holding a gun; one of them aiming at the blonde girl, the other at Miko. I guess they reckon us as the lesser threat, since we're on the ground. Turning my head to my side again, I exchange a quick look with the girl right next to me.

Our eyes meet, just for a nano-second, but it's enough.

With a force I didn't even know I had, I manage to get back up with a backflip I can't remember ever pulling off before, launching myself in the Whisperers direction in the blink of an eye. I notice from the corner of my eye how the other girl is doing the exact same thing, which makes the whole thing even more bizarre—we must look like two synchronized ninjas—but there's no time for questions or amazement right now.

My body seems to know what to do even before my brain does. My leg stretches. Fast. Strong. Kicking whoever is hiding behind that mask against the knee cap. He goes down, at the exact same moment as his companion, screaming in pain. They are less in sync than we are though. As the left one reaches for his leg, my opponent manages to raise his shaking hand again... and shoots.

The shot is loud and distracts me for a split second, but the bullet misses me and my body is still on auto-pilot. My foot finds his hand, my heavy boot crushing it till he lets go of the gun. However, my foot keeps squeezing down, shattering the bones of his fingers.

"Magna! Magna, enough!"

She sounds miles away, but slowly her voice reaches me after all. "They're down. We got them. Enough!"

I look up, my eyes meeting hers again, and I realize I'm panting.

"We got them," she tells me again, "Let's just... avoid any trouble, like you said."

Taking a step backwards, I deeply exhale. They're not worth it anyway.

I turn around. "We can use that rope. Babe, can you— nooooo!!"

Miko! She's on the ground, with a grimace of pain on her face, while the girl on her side has both of her hands pressed against her upper leg. There's blood running through her fingers.

Instantly forgetting about our attackers I run to her, push the blonde aside and kneel down. As I rest one hand on her hair, the other finds the shot wound. I lightly touch it, my fingers immediately drenched in blood.

"No, no, no," I keep muttering, "This isn't happening."

I don't look up until I feel a soft hand on my shoulder. It's the blonde again.

"Hey, it's okay, she'll be okay. I know it looks bad, but we can fix this. Okay? It didn't hit the femoral artery."

"You're a doctor?" I breathe, staring at her with both hope and disbelief.

She shakes her head. "No, I just... I just know a thing or two. If we can stop the bleeding and get some help—"

"Help?!" Aghast, I jump to my feet. "We're in the middle of freaking nowhere! There's no one here! Except for—"

Turning around again I look at the two Whisperers on the ground, now held at gunpoint by my, well, fellow ninja warrior, I guess. In a few big steps I make my way back to them, feeling the rage boiling up inside me again - faster than I can ever remember.

"You! You did this!" I draw my knife and lift my arm above my head, ready to strike. Yet again it's the brunette who jumps in between - literally, as she promptly blocks me with her body. She's surprisingly strong.

"Magna, don't do this," she pleads, though I can barely hear her. For the second time today I feel like something awakens inside me. Something dark. Something stronger than me.

"Blood must have blood," I hiss between my teeth, my eyes on the target, shooting fire.

"I know," she quietly tells me, "I know."

For some reason I believe her. There's something in her voice that tells me that she does, that she gets where this is coming from, even if I myself don't. It calms me, at least enough to listen.

She keeps talking, her voice low and understandingly. "I know that's how you feel. I used to, too. But it's not going to help us. And it won't make you feel any better."

Taking a deep breath, I try to contain myself. I'm not so sure if I agree. "They don't deserve any compassion," I snarl, "They're monsters."

Keeping her eyes on me, she takes a step backwards, toward the two on the ground. "Are they though?" she questions out loud. Not giving me a chance to fight her on this, she reaches down and pulls their masks off. There's a girl on the left, barely fifteen, and a boy on the right - maybe even younger. They look scared.

"See, they're kids. Stupid kids who made stupid choices," she goes on. "Or maybe they didn't even get to make a choice, maybe their parents did. Or they were forced. They wouldn't be the first to believe surviving comes with joining the bad guys."

I roll my eyes. "You don't seriously consider letting them go, are you? They'll stick a knife in your back as soon as you turn around!"

"Maybe," she nods, before moving her eyes toward the two teenagers on the ground. "But maybe they are less stupid than we think."

Dropping my shoulders in some kind of defeat I sigh and walk to the walker on the ground to get the rope. As I hand it to her, I mumble, "You saved us, so it's your call. Let's hope you won't regret it."

She nods again, takes the rope and starts to tie them up, while telling them it won't take them too long to free themselves, but it will give them some time to consider their options, and to use it wisely.

I hardly listen to it.

As I turn back toward Miko, I notice the non-doctor taking off her henley and tying it around Miko's wound. My girl looks tired, and in pain, but also well aware - thank god.

"There's no exit wound. We need to get the bullet out," the blonde speaks up. I look at her.

"What's your name?" I ask.

She slowly exhales, a small smile appearing on her lips. "Clarke," she answers, "And that's L— that's Alicia."

"Okay Clarke, let's get our tweezers out. Oh wait, we didn't bring any," I snark, unable to act friendly, even though I start to believe she might deserve it.

"We are actually pretty close by my uhm.. my camp by now," Clarke goes on, ignoring my temper. "We've got medical equipment, and there's even a doctor. A real one."

I raise my brows, as this sounds a bit too good to be true, then look at my girlfriend again. She can read the question in my eyes and nods. What choice do we have?

"Alright," I sigh, looking at the two newbies again, "But no more of that funny stuff, claiming that you know me and all. That's just... too fucking weird."

"Yeah," Clarke mumbles, her eyes on the dead walker near her feet, "that's the weird part..."

Alicia bumps her shoulder. "Come on, let's get her up!"

Miko can't stand on her wounded leg, but with me on one side and Clarke on the other, she manages to limp. "It's not far. Two or three miles maybe," Alicia reassures us.

She might be right, but it's the longest two or three miles I ever crossed.

When we reach the edge of the forest, Clarke suddenly stops, making us almost trip.

"They're gone!" she cries out. "They... They left!" She sounds shocked, but that's not all. There's something else in her voice. Disappointment maybe?

For a moment they both look desperate and lost, and it's hard not to feel the same, as I'm still supporting my heavily injured girlfriend - very aware that she's quickly losing her strength by now.

"Now wh—" I break their silence, but Alicia beats me to it as she points her finger.

"Look, they're still here. They built a camp!"

I shut my mouth again and shake my head. First we go to a camp, then there is no camp, then they built a camp. I just can't with these two.

There's no time for confusion though.

Alicia faces me. "I'm staying here. You might want to do the same."

"What? No!" I cry out, "I'm not leaving her!"

They briefly share another look. "It's just that... there are more people over there who might... confuse you with someone else," Clarke tries to clarify their absurd suggestion.

"Then I trust you to tell them wrong," I grumble, taking a step forward, dragging both Miko and Clarke along. "Come on, we don't have time for this bullshit."

The three of us cross the field and reach the camp, which seems poorly guarded. That is till a young girl shows up out of nowhere, carrying a heavy... wait, is that a sword in her hands? Who the hell are these people?!

The girl might be young, but just one look at her tells me you don't wanna mess with her. The look on her face changes as soon as she recognizes Clarke though. Guess there's a puppy in there after all.

"Clarke! You came back!" she cheers, before a look of horror suddenly dawns her face. "Oh my god, you're bleeding!"

Clarke lays her free hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I'm not, I'm okay, Madi. It's not my blood, it's—" She suddenly falls quiet.

"—Yumiko's," I finish her sentence.

"Right," Clarke nods, showing me that small smile again. "It's Yumiko's. She got shot. Please tell me they left the medical equipment here before they went back up."

"Up?!" I blurt out before the girl can answer. "You're saying you guys have a chopper?!"

Maybe we should befriend them anyway?

Seemingly caught off guard Clarke blinks a few times. "Yeah, no, it's... it's a little bigger. Just... forget about it. Let's get Yumiko on a stretcher." She turns toward the young sword girl again. "Who else is here?"

"Right now it's just Gaia, Miller and me. Raven, Emori and Abby went back to the Eligius to get more people. They should be back soon. I sent Bellamy, Echo and Murphy exploring, together with—"

Wait, she sent them? This... this kid is in charge here?! Nope, nope... no potential chopper is worth this madhouse!

As their name dropping conversation goes on, I turn to Miko and rest my hand on her cheek. Her eyes find mine and despite the fact that they look weak, I spot a little twinkle in there.

"Is this for real?" I whisper.

She chuckles, which makes her groan and tighten her grip on our shoulders again, telling us we shouldn't linger.

"Take that tent," the tiny leader says, pointing to the nearest and biggest one. We enter and find a rather large table right in the middle. I help Miko lay down on it and make sure to keep my eyes on her, as I'm more worried than I'd like to admit. A bullet is a bullet, after all.

"The Gagarin is in sight. They'll be here in a few minutes," a woman entering the tent tells the girl, before suddenly falling quiet. "Wait, is that...?"

Before she can finish whatever she's about to ask, Clarke takes a big step forward.

"This is Magna," she quickly says, "She's from here, as is Yumiko. They need our help. Can you help, Gaia?"

"Y-Yeah, of course," the woman nods, though she doesn't move, as she keeps staring at me instead. She looks bewildered.

"Gaia!"

Clarke snaps her fingers, and it suddenly hits me how much more in charge she seems today then she did yesterday, with those other folks. The woman at the entrance blinks and forces herself to focus on Clarke again.

"Go to the dropship and see if my mother is on there. Or Jackson. Both if possible!"

The woman nods again and leaves the tent. That's the moment I realize the roaring sound I've been hearing in the far back is getting louder. Something is out there, getting closer. Something big.

"M- Magn-"

Miko's soft voice draws my attention back to her. Whatever is out there will have to wait. I take her hand in mine and softly squeeze it. "I'm here, babe. I'm not going anywhere."

With my eyes stuck on the only woman, the only human being, that really matters to me, I listen to the sounds outside. First there's more noise, then there's a short silence, followed by some kind of... hissing sigh? Then there's silence again.

Clarke, not seemingly impressed by all of this, doesn't wait for what's coming. She gets a knife, cuts Miko's pants open and inspects the wound. She looks up again when we hear the quick sound of footsteps draw near. I follow her gaze to the tent's entrance. Two people walk in. However, I don't think there's a Jackson among them.

"Mom!" Clarke cries out, before turning her eyes to the other woman. There's a a flash of surprise on her face. "Octavia? You're awake!"

The two women don't even seem to notice her though. As soon as they see me, they freeze, showing me that same bewildered look as that Gaia girl just did.

"This can't be..." the older of the two murmurs underneath her breath. The other one squints her eyes.

"Luna?"

Whoever this doppelgänger of me is must have made a great impression on this people!

"Is it... Is it really...?" As her voice drifts off, the younger woman takes a step closer, examining me like she's watching a ghost.

"Clarke!" I hiss, but instead of telling them wrong she just peers at me, with some strange expectation in her eyes.

"What?" I snap.

She briefly averts her eyes to look at the others, then returns her gaze to me again.

"Just..." Deeply exhaling she shakes her head. "Nothing."

"We had a deal," I remind her, shoving her slightly toward them with a push of my shoulder. She coughs, straightens her back and takes another step forward without my help.

"This isn't Luna," she finally tells them, "You know this can't be Luna. I know they look shockingly the same, but you guys need to pull it together. Cause we need your help, right now." She takes the older woman by the arm and pulls her toward us. "Mom, this is Yumiko. She got shot, close to the artery. The bullet is still in."

Glad to see that this woman's attention now goes to Miko without hesitation, I ignore the other one's persistent stare and focus on the bloody situation on the table again. Miko's starting to drift off, which can't be a good sign, but this woman—who I assume is the doctor—seems to know what she's doing. Nevertheless I keep a close eye on all of them.

Which is why I don't pay any attention to the movement at the entrance of the tent.

"What's going on here?"

The new voice fills the stuffy air around us... and slaps me in the face at the same time.

"It's not your blood that defines you. It's your heart."

I'm on a shore. Staring in the eyes of the only person who really seems to care about me. But that person isn't Miko.

And I'm not me.

Suddenly afraid that my legs give way beneath me, I hold on to the table, my knuckles turning white from squeezing. I gasp for air, but it doesn't stop my head from spinning.

I'm not me.

I'm not me.

I'm not...

I need to know for sure. I need to see those eyes, need them to tell me the truth. The only truth. I deeply inhale, close my eyes, then slowly open them again... and look up.

It's Raven.

... ...

Chapter Text

"What's going on here?"

Raven's unexpected voice makes me glance up from the temporary operating table, just briefly. She enters the tent with a puzzled look on her face.

There's no room for any explanation though, as Mom keeps giving me directions on how to assist her. She hands me an IV bag. Yet before I can raise my arm to keep it up high, I get distracted again.

This time it's Luna, who all of a sudden lets go of Yumiko's hand and leaves the tent without a word, but with a rather disturbing expression and a firm tread - almost walking over Raven in her way out.

"Hey, watch it!" Raven shouts after her, while trying to keep her balance. "Jesus, whoever that was, I suggest we put her back to sleep asap."

She must have missed the resemblance in the promptness of it all. Since I remember them being pretty close in the past, I can't think of any other reason why Raven wouldn't recognize her.

And then it hits me.

They were close.

They had this understanding, this deep connection between the two of them. Could that be it?

Without further thinking I call her over to me and shove the bag of fluids in her hands, while ordering her to hold it up high. She does as I say, though she wouldn't be Raven for not asking questions. I get it, I would too, but again: there's no time for answers.

In the midst of walking away, all I can promise her is: "Later..."

Once outside it doesn't take long to find Luna. She's standing on the far edge of the campsite, leaning against a tree with one hand, the other one pressed against her chest. She looks like she just threw up. When I get closer, I notice that she's panting.

I walk over to her, until I am about five feet behind her.

"You okay?" I warily ask.

She doesn't turn around. Doesn't respond either.

I take another step forward, measured, on my guard.

"What happened in there?" I try again.

By the raising of her shoulders I can tell she's drawing the longest breath. It seems like a desperate attempt to pull herself together. With her hand still against the timber, she hangs her head.

"How?" she speaks up, though barely audible. "How do I have memories that aren't mine?"

"I... I don't know," I honestly admit. "Madi thinks it must have been the City of Lights. Alicia says—"

"Lexa," she interrupts me, her voice now loud and clear. Slowly, she turns around, her eyes boring into mine. "Her name is Lexa."

I nod.

We both stay silent. Her face is set in despair, and it aches my heart to see her this confused. This lost.

"I don't really know how any of this is possible," I tell her again, "But those memories, they are yours. You're not just Magna, you are—"

"No!" she cuts me off again, shaking her head fiercely. "No!"

With two more steps I close the distance between us and rest my hand on her shoulder. To my relief she doesn't push me away.

"You are Luna... Luna kom Floukru. And you know it."

Deeply exhaling, she shakes her head again, then abruptly drops herself to the ground. I squat down in front of her.

"I know remembering all this brings you back to a place, a darkness you might not want to relive. But you don't have to. You're not really there anymore. You're here now. You got another chance."

"Which I don't deserve!" She looks up at me. Her eyes are darkened, filled with pain. This time I'm the one to shake my head.

"You are one of the most heartfelt, diligent, compassionate persons I've ever met. You stood for your beliefs, and built this peaceful, selfless world. Taking care of those in need. How could that not deserve a second chance?"

She scoffs. "You forget about the part where I was about to destroy that world."

"After we destroyed you! Luna, if there's any blame, it's ours."

She stays quiet again.

"I know you've got a lot to process. A lot of heavy feelings to deal with. Including those of your final moments." Suddenly uncomfortable, I swallow. "Please don't feel like you have nothing to live for. Cause you do." I point at the biggest tent, about eighty yards away from us. "She's right there."

Luna lets out a harsh breath and rises to her feet.

"You are right, Clarke," she says, looking down on me, "You are to blame."

Alarmed by the sudden calm in her voice, I quickly stand up as well. "Wait! I-I can't let you go back like this. I need to ask you for your weapons."

She narrows her eyes. "You think I'm going to fight the people who are saving my girlfriend's life? If I'd wanted you guys dead, I'd killed you all a long time ago."

She walks past me without waiting for my response. I hastily turn around.

"What about Octavia?"

Holding her pace she looks over her shoulder, shrugging lightly. "She did what she had to do."

The look on my face must tell her that her indifference doesn't reassure me just yet. Heaving another sigh, she turns and walks back to me.

"Listen, I just need some time, okay? To process, like you said, and to be with Miko. I don't want to harm anyone, and I don't think you want to either." Before I can answer, she gestures to the sky. The sun is about to set. "I don't reckon we're going anywhere tonight. You think we can trust each other?"

I press my lips together and peer into her eyes, trying to read her. I can't. I have to trust my instinct.

"Yes," I slowly nod. "Tell me what you need."

I might be wrong, but I think I catch the tiniest lip quiver. A hint of a smile. I just can't tell if it's a sign of relief or victory.

"I need to be me. Magna, that is," she says. "To the people I've just met. And also to not meet anyone else."

"I might have to talk to Madi then. Don't worry, we can trust her," I rush to add. "She knows about Lexa, too. And she can make sure you guys will be left alone."

"Why on earth are people listening to that kid?" Luna frowns, right before I see the dawning realization in her eyes. "Wait... she's the Commander!?"

I lift my shoulder in some half shrug and pull a face, knowing how she feels about the subject. Which isn't much different than how I feel about it. But for now I believe she's got enough to deal with. So without going into the matter, I just nod toward the tent. "Come on. There's someone waiting for you." 

... ...

Together we walk back into the camp. Unlike before, there are lots of people around now; there must have been at least forty on the last ride down here. Everyone is busy setting up tents and preparing for the night to come, but this doesn't reassure me. I'm still aware that we're easy to spot—and recognize—which is why we quickly dive back into the tent that's now serving as an OR.

By the looks of it, Mom has just finished. She's covering Yumiko's lower body with a thin sheet. Madi is still there. Everyone else is gone.

"Is she okay?" Luna asks from right behind me.

Mom looks up at her. "She is," she softly smiles, "You can come closer. Here, take my place." She steps aside and focuses on me. "We got the bullet out. She'll be fine."

"Great," I mirror her smile, "Thank you."

She opens her mouth, about to shoot the first of the many questions she must have, but my eyes already meet Madi's.

"We need to talk," I simply tell her.

Madi follows me outside without question. Once out of hearing distance from everyone else, we sit down on a fallen trunk. I lean toward her.

"Remember what I told you about Lexa?"

"How could I forget?" she snorts. Then, more eagerly, "What about her? Is she here?"

I smile, understanding her avidity. "Kind of. She's hiding in the woods. This isn't about her though. We uhm, we found out there are more like her. One, at least."

Madi stares at me, expectantly, clearly wondering where this is going.

"Octavia and my mom, they weren't wrong. Magna isn't just Magna. She's also Luna."

"Luna? The Natblida that ran?!"

"... and eventually got killed by Octavia during the final conclave," I nod.

A flash of terror crosses her face. "Is that why she's here? For revenge?"

Shaking my head, I quickly move my hands to her lap, preventing her from jumping up and storming back to that tent. "No, she's not. She's not here to fight us. Any of us. She didn't even remember us, or herself for that matter, until she got here. And now that she does, Octavia seems to be the least of her issues."

"So why did you bring her here?"

"Because we need her. Lexa and I. We need her."

Madi sits up. "And so you need us, too. How exactly?"

I brush my palms together, then bob my head toward the camp. "They both need to stay here for the night, in that tent, without anyone knowing. Or bothering them."

"What about you?" she asks.

"I'll go and find Lexa. Stay with her in the woods. I'll come back tomorrow to get them and bring them back home... somehow."

"You can't stay in the woods. It's not safe!"

"We'll be fine," I wave away her concerns, "You know she doesn't want to be seen. And I'm not leaving her there alone."

"Then we'll sneak her in," Madi determines. "You go and find her, then come back after dark. You can stay in the loading space, the one you can acces from the back. I'll unlock the door for you."

I hesitate. "I don't know, there might be people wandering around."

"I make sure they're at the camp. I call for a briefing, let's say in half an hour?" Leaning in to look into my eyes, she takes my hands. "Clarke, please don't stay out there."

Giving in once again, I sigh. "I'll try."

With that promise I get up and make my way to the deeper part of the woods. As I'm trying to find the correct spot, I suddenly realize it was only yesterday I was running here as well, about to find Lexa... who wasn't there. What if today is the same?

Somewhat to my relief it turns out there's no need to worry. She's there. Waiting for me, and finding her place in my arms as soon as she gets the chance.

"What happened? Is she okay?" Her warm breath hits my neck.

"Yeah, she is," I tell her, holding her close for just a little longer. "My mom was able to help her. But that's not everything. Luna, she... she remembered."

Lexa frees herself from my embrace, her eyes wide open. "She did? How? Did she meet Octavia?"

"Shortly, yes. But nothing happened there. Not even a hint of recognition. Turned out it wasn't Octavia we needed. It was Raven."

"Raven?!"

"Which makes sense, actually," I continue, as a grin sneaks up on my face. "See, we were thinking about the last person she saw, but I'm starting to think it's not about that. I think it's about the person who means something. Who's important to you."

Lexa's lips turn into a smirk, telling me she must be thinking the same thing I am. "Like you are to me," she grins.

I take her hand. "Could that be it?"

"That must be it," she nods, "Cause you mean the world to me."

She pulls me in for another hug before I can say anything, and for a little while we just stand there, in silence and rapture.

"Come," I say when I finally break our embrace, "I got us a place to sleep, in the back of the ship. It will be safe."

... ...

Creeping in a wide circle around the glade, and hidden by the shadows of the trees, we sneak back to the dropship where we hide in the bushes until it's completely dark. That's when we look around for a final check and quickly cross the open space between us and our shelter.

The heavy door opens with a pull of the lever and closes behind us with a firm push. There's a lock switch on the inside. There's also light, running on the generator, but I know it's connected to a small warning light on the control panel which might draw someone's attention. Madi must have realized that as well, cause she left three oil lamps, together with some blankets, food, and a basin with soap water.

Before I know it, a heartily laugh escapes me.

"What?" Lexa asks, a curious frown furrowing her brow.

I tilt my chin toward the basin. "Madi," I grin, "When she was young, she loved running around bare feet. So we had this rule: you can get as dirty as you want by day, but your bed stays clean; we might be the last two people on earth, but we're still not animals."

She smiles at me, in that controlled but oh so genuine way, with only one corner of her mouth slightly moving, yet with her eyes lighting the room.

"You raised her well."

"I tried," I shrug, and then we both laugh.

I pick up the lamps and light them one by one. As soon as they spread their typical, warm glow through the room, I turn around and switch off the light. There. We're out of sight.

Spreading the blankets on the floor, I create us an improvised bed. When I look up again, I see Lexa standing by the basin, her back now turned toward me. She has taken off her shirt and is washing herself with the sponge. I go stand behind her and let my finger glide over her spine.

"Your tattoo... it's gone."

"Born with a clean slate," she mumbles, almost to herself.

I reach around her and take the sponge from her hand. Without a word I unhook her bra, exposing the skin underneath, and start to rub her back - slowly, like we've got all the time in the world. Which for once, we do.

When I'm sure I washed every inch of her back, I move the sponge to her shoulder, then leisurely stroke it down all the way to her fingertips. She lifts her hand, stretches her fingers, welcomes and accepts me. Our hands for a moment lost in a silent dance.

I move to switch to her other arm, wiping her long hair to the side and brushing my lips against the hollow of her neck. There's no scar. No sign of her ever carrying the Flame.

It doesn't make her any less her.

I taste her skin - her typical sweet and salty skin. Inhale her scent that's still so distinctively her, despite the heavy smell of soap that's now surrounding her. And, as she slowly turns around, drown in the green of her eyes like I've done so many times before.

"You're still you," I whisper.

Without taking my eyes off of hers, I lay my hands on her shoulders and let her bra slide down her arms.

In the same pace as before I gently wash her chest, her breasts, her rib cage, before lowering myself to graze my lips over the smooth and unharmed skin of her belly. There's no blood this time. Just goosebumps.

"I'm glad you got to leave the bad behind."

She doesn't answer. Instead she makes me stand up and slips her fingers underneath the hem of my tank top. I raise my arms above my head. The top finds its way next to her bra within seconds.

Lexa takes the sponge from me, rinses it and starts scrubbing Yumiko's dried blood from my hands and arms. She takes her time, like I just did, and I let her. Why wouldn't I? When she moves her wet hand to the sensitive skin around my belly button, I shiver.

She looks up through her lashes. "Cold?"

I shake my head.

It doesn't take long before my bra hits the ground and her fingers find the button of my pants. As her eyes cross mine again, I can tell that she hesitates. I show her a small, encouraging smile, then pull her in for a kiss. With our lips connected she continues to undo my pants, before slowly sliding it down.

To step out of it I try to kick off my shoes without breaking our connection. It's a hopeless attempt. Besides, Lexa already kneels down to help me out and, as it turns out, to wash my feet, my calves, my thighs, in the same way she did before - ever so slowly, exploring every part of me, as she's making her way back up again.

I try to stay patient, but my hand, that's now lightly resting on the top of her head, gives me away. I start to fidget, and as I decide it's taking too long, even to pull. When she finally rises to her feet there's a smile lingering on her lips that tells me I don't have to worry. She has only just begun.

Reaching behind herself, she grabs the towel that's next to the basin. She dries me off, gradually once again, then hands it to me to return the favor.

The next step is not hard to guess. As the towel finds its way to the growing pile on the floor, our lips find each other again. It's just a few steps to the spread out blankets, but even in that short length we manage to lose more clothes along the way. All our clothes, to be exact.

As soon as we lie down, we find ourselves in an embrace. In an exploration of hands and lips. In a renewed discovery of each other's body, while our breathing is quickly losing control.

I want this to last forever, but despite my clouded brain I can tell it won't. After all this time, all this build up, we're just too impatient. Too eager. When Lexa's fingers find their way to my throbbing core, I know I'm down for the count.

She touches me, strokes me, electrifies me in a way no one else ever has, and no one else ever can.

A deep moan escapes me. Throwing my head back, I stretch and arch my back. She doesn't allow the distance between us though. Without pulling her hand back she moves up, maneuvering her free arm underneath my head, and tilting it toward her.

"Stay with me," she breathes, our mouths now only an inch away from each other.

Unable to control it, my body keeps writhing underneath her touch. Yet she manages to keep me close. To keep our eyes connected in those short moments between my heavy panting.

God, I love how strong she is.

Gasping for the little air between us, I raise my hips to meet her hand, to claim more pressure. She gives me what I want, and more; she also increases the speed of her fingers. That's when I fall, over the edge, into a deep, mind-blowing bliss that keeps the world from turning.

Hardly able to breathe I slowly open my eyes to gaze into hers, as she hovers above me. Her eyes blazed with love and passion. Her lips forming the most beautiful smile.

"You okay?"

I just nod. I'm more than okay.

For the first time since I lost her, I feel like I'm alive again.

... ...

Chapter Text

We wake up in each other's arms. Just like we did the other three times we woke up this night. But this time, unlike all previous moments, we don't lose ourselves in passionate kisses and endless lovemaking.

Morning has come.

I blink against the bright light that enters through the small skylight. With my cheek still resting on her chest, the steady beat of her heart underneath my ear more comforting than anything else, I can feel how she softly presses her lips on top of my head.

A smile creeps on my face, the subtle graze of my lips against her bare skin giving me away, and making her chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing," I mumble.

She gently lifts my chin with her forefinger, making me look up at her. Her brows draw together as she narrows her eyes.

"Nothing?" she echoes. "With you it's never nothing."

I mirror her grin, then lower my head again, as I'm already missing her warmth.

"Some things are better left unsaid," I hum. "So the universe can't screw it up. You know, start throwing curve balls."

Clarke starts raking her fingers through my hair. "You really believe the universe has ears?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," I shrug.

With her hand still gently stroking me, she seems to give it some thought, before resolutely breaking our silence.

"Well, I don't care! I'm just gonna say it anyway. I'm happy. Right now, I'm happy. You make me happy," she goes on. "And yes, I know there's a whole lot of scary shit around the corner. I know a future can be over before it begins. Boy, do I know! But if it taught me one thing, it is to really live in those moments that matter. To really feel them, and acknowledge them. Savor and cherish them. Cause in a world like this, moments count."

Her beaming smile makes me gasp for air.

She slowly brings her hand to my face and strokes my cheekbone with the tip of her finger.

"I love you, Lexa kom Trikru," she breathes softly, while she reaches my jawline and starts following its contours, her thumb now grazing over my lips ever so lightly. "And I love you, Alicia—"

She abruptly falls quiet.

"Clark," I help her out, with little success as I make her look even more confused instead.

"Yes?"

"No, not you. Me!" I giggle - highly aware that I'm ruining the moment. "Alicia Clark, that's my name."

For a few seconds she just stares at me. Then she cracks up laughing. "Are you kidding me?"

"I wish I was," I snort as well, and with that we're ready to leave the sentiment behind us for now and start this brand new day.

Still shaking her head in amazement, Clarke sits up. "Let's find Luna. See how she's doing, and make a plan for today."

"How did she take it?" I ask while I follow her example and look around, absorbing the mess we made last night.

"Not well," she sighs as she leaves the blankets that make our bed—or what's left of it—and starts dressing herself. I know I should do the same, but right now I'd rather watch her. "She wasn't too happy remembering herself. Even less remembering us."

"She's angry?"

She doesn't get the chance to answer. A sudden, rhythmic knocking makes us both look at the door, though Clarke noticeably less startled than me.

"Madi," she deduces, "I taught her how to tell me her name in morse code."

She stoops, picks up my clothes from the floor and tosses them at me. Without leaving my spot I quickly put on my panties and shirt, then pull the sheet over my bare legs since Clarke is already opening the door.

It's not Madi though.

Luna steps in, raising her hands in some reassuring white flag kind of gesture, or just an apology maybe, since the entire scene doesn't leave much to the imagination. She quickly closes the door behind her.

"Madi told me where to find you, and how to get in," she explains. "Some kid you got there!"

Clarke flashes a grin. "She sure is something. How's Yumiko?"

Luna shows her a weak smile - the first one I'm witnessing, I realize, at least in this lifetime. "She's alright. She can't really walk yet, but it looks like she'll be fine."

Clearly relieved, Clarke exhales and relaxes her shoulders. "Great. Now let's make a plan—"

"We already have a plan," Luna interrupts her, "We're going home. Today."

"You just said she can't walk yet," I frown.

"That's right. That's why you and I are going to find us a car." She turns to Clarke without waiting for my response. "I want you to stay with Miko, prepare her for the trip."

I jump up, drawing her attention again. "Why should we look for a car? There's not a drop of gasoline left on this entire planet!"

"Well, luckily for us, our new friends brought a whole new stock from outer space. Madi gave us two cans - two gallons of liquid gold to bring us home," she refutes my point as she looks at me again, her eyes now on my legs. "So chop-chop, lover girl, put on your pants. We've got an appointment at the dealership."

Unable to keep from laughing I shake my head. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

She glances at Clarke, then back at me. She doesn't join my laughter. "I have, actually, and you should be glad about that," she grumbles. "Now, come on, we don't have all day."

I swiftly put on the rest of my clothes, kiss Clarke goodbye and follow Luna outside. There are two cans of gasoline at the door. She picks them up, shoves one in my hands and disappears between the trees without waiting for me. I quickly run after her.

"Luna, wait!"

"Magna," she replies without slowing down. When I'm almost caught up with her, she looks at me over her shoulder. "Luna is dead. Let's leave her there."

A sorrowful sigh escapes me. "I get it. Clarke told me what happened. But..." I lay my hand on her shoulder, yet she shakes it off like it's burning her.

"But nothing! You want to cling on to the past? Fine, your choice. But I won't." Without blinking she draws her knife and stabs a legless walker that's blocking our way. As soon as she pierces his skull, silence returns - with the exception of the soft rustle of the wind in the trees. "Bringing the dead back to life has done no one any good. I'm not gonna add one to it."

I look at the gross puddle of human brains at my feet. The days that this made me hurl are far behind me. Still, it's not a pretty sight.

"Please, don't compare yourself with... them," I sigh.

Luna—or Magna, I correct myself—steps over the mutilated half-body on the ground and continues her way. I rush to keep up with her.

"Listen, I know things are different for you. That you've got people from back then to hang on to," she says as soon as I'm next to her again, her voice a bit milder now. "I don't blame you for that. Just don't ask me to do the same."

We reach the main road and keep following it for a few minutes in silence, before I turn my head to look at her again. "You're not going to help us, are you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Because you're mad," I raise my shoulders in some half-shrug. "I don't know exactly what happened between you and them, but you seem to have quite some reasons to hate their guts."

Magna moves the heavy can from one hand to the other and wipes her hair from her face. "You're right. They hardly deserve my help. Let alone my forgiveness."

"And with Clarke being one of them...?" Afraid of the answer, I don't finish my question.

She stops walking in the middle of the road, taking me by surprise by the abruptness. "Clarke is with you," she states the obvious. "And you... well, you are you. You and I grew up together. We were both doomed by our blood. Killing my brother was the worst thing I ever had to do, but I knew that killing my sister would top that."

I stay quiet, let her talk.

"We never saw each other again after I fled. But I had my spies in Polis. I heard what I needed to hear. You were the one who refused to track me down. You let me live. Don't think I ever forgot about that."

"Well, except for the last hundred and thirty years," I blurt out chuckling. Regretting it straight away I'm about to bite my tongue, but then I see that I don't have to: I actually made her laugh! 

"Well, yeah, except for that," she smirks.

I raise my brows. "So, you're saying what? That I'm important to you?"

"Believe me or not, but yeah," she shrugs. "You are."

"Not as important as Raven, though?" I wink.

The palm of her hand hits my shoulder before I can dive to avoid it, making me stumble backwards. "Shut up," she grumbles, "How was I supposed to recognize you? You aren't exactly twelve anymore!"

"Yeah, let's leave it at that," I laugh as I start walking again, having her following me for a change, albeit just for a second. "And hey, there must have been some recognition, right? During that fight yesterday?"

"That was some long-lost routine, indeed!" she smiles at the recollection.

I open my mouth, about to point out that our past really wasn't all bad, but I change my mind as I don't want to push it. Besides, we need to get back to business as we just happen to find a car on the roadside, its key still in the ignition. Of course it doesn't work.

We use about half of a can to see if it solves the problem, which it does, before filling it up with the rest of the gas. With Magna behind the wheel and me in the passenger seat we make our way back to Madi's camp.

"You haven't answered my question yet," I remind her when we're almost there.

She turns her head. "You want to know if I'm going to help you?"

"Yes. Me and Clarke?"

"I am," she nods, "You and Clarke. And the kid, if she wants any help. I mean, she was just out of diapers when this whole thing was happening. Can't really blame her for anything."

"How about Raven?" I can't help but tease, drawing a deep sigh from her.

"You really can't stop, can you?" she murmurs, before briefly looking at me once more. She takes in a long breath. "Okay, fine, whatever. If she'd ever be in need, yes, I'll help her, too. Of course I would... But the rest of them can rot in hell."

I answer her grumpy face with a playful grin. "Fair enough," I nod. "Now, let's return to the present. There are some people waiting for us!"

Magna stops the car. From here it should be less than a mile into the woods, which we'll have to walk.

We do so without facing any problems and before we know it we're back at the glade. When Magna crosses it to get the others, my mind wanders off to the day of our conclave. The day she ran away.

What if she hadn't? Would I have fought her? Killed her when I got the chance? I probably would. Even though she was my friend - my family. I would have done it, cause nothing was more frightening than not doing it.

They called her a coward, but the truth is, I wasn't half as brave as she was.

And now she's about to save me again.

Sooner than I'd expected the three of them show up, with Yumiko leaning on Clarke and Magna for support.

"No Madi?" I carefully ask.

Clarke shakes her head with sorrow in her eyes. I don't ask any further.

The car is waiting where we left it. This time Magna climbs in the back, together with Yumiko, who rests her head on Magna's lap. I dangle the keys in the air.

"You got your license?"

Clarke forces a smile. "Just years of experience in a 4x4. It's okay, you drive."

The drive back to Hilltop, as we learn the settlement is called, takes about an hour. We don't talk much. Clarke keeps staring out of the window, her face clouded with sadness. I rest my hand on her knee and she covers it with hers, telling me without any words that it isn't me. I wish it was though. Then at least I could do something to make her feel better...

"You two wait here," Magna speaks up when I stop the car in front of the gate. "I'll try to find our leaders, ask them to come and talk to you. Come on, babe."

She helps Yumiko out of the car and through the gate, while Clarke and I get out as well and take a seat on the hood. I look to my side.

"You're okay?"

"Not really," Clarke sighs, before looking back at me. She bites her lip and I can tell she's trying to smile again. "But I will be."

I caress her back. "We're not giving up. You hear me? Her home is with you."

"With us," she corrects me.

Smiling for the two of us, I nod. "With us. And it's going to be right there."

She follows my gaze to the closed gate. The gate that's between us and our future.

"You think it's gonna work? She's gonna help us this time?"

I cock my head. "I think she's gonna try. Let's hope that will be enough."

Right then the gate opens again. Magna walks toward us, together with the woman we met two days ago. Tara, if I remember correctly. When they're getting closer they slow down, both looking over their shoulder to the man who apparently came along with them, but now lingers at the gate. He doesn't move. Instead, he just stares at us.

"Jesus, come on, let's just hear them out," Tara tells him.

It gets him in motion, but not for long. After only five steps, he stops again.

"I'm not talking to her," he states, his voice cold and determined. 

His eyes are on me. There's no doubt about that. But why? Have we met before?

I don't recognize him, even though he has quite a striking appearance. He has a full beard, and long, light-brown hair, tied in a knot. He looks strong. Not so much muscular, but athletic. I reckon he's around thirty, thirty-five maybe. I can't imagine we shared the playground together.

He takes another step forward. "She doesn't get anything from me," he tells Tara, before looking straight at me again. "You took enough already!"

My mind keeps racing. He doesn't seem like someone I'd easily forget. Then again, I met so many people these past few years, it would be a miracle if I'd remembered them all. Maybe it was in Mexico, at the hotel. Or in Texas, at the stadium? Or at the dam perhaps?

Catching us all off guard he suddenly closes the distance between us, swiftly, until he's only two feet away from me. Without blinking, his eyes peer into mine.

"You have know idea, do you?"

"I-I don't," I stammer, "You're sure we know each other?"

"Oh, I'm sure," he slowly bobs his head. "Maybe you should dig a little deeper... Heda."

... ...

Chapter Text

"Alright, keep practicing," I tell Gage as I wave at Magna to tell her I'll be right there. I pick up my coat, put it back on and leisurely walk toward her. The moment I get to her, Tara shows up from the other side.

"What's up?" we ask simultaneously.

"I was wrong," Magna jumps straight to it, her eyes flicking between the two of us. "About our campers out there. I didn't remember straight away, but I do now. I do know a bunch of them. And I think we should give them a chance."

Tara frowns at her. "You know how strange that sounds, right?" she asks, her voice full of suspicion. "You were pretty convincing before, about not knowing them. I mean, if they did anything to change your mind, if they are threatening you—"

"They are not!" Magna calls out, "I just... I'd forgotten about them. It's been a really, really long time since we saw each other. We were different people back then. Like... very young... and all."

"So you shared a swing set in kindergarten," I shrug, "How's that helping us today? What do they even have to offer?"

Shifting from one foot to the other, Magna draws in a deep breath. "Well, to start with, a kick-ass SWAT truck?"

My co-leader rolls her eyes. "In a world without gasoline? Useless!"

"They've got weapons. And a few real good fighters. Who I prefer to have on our side, when it comes to it," she tries again.

We stay quiet.

"And beer..."

Tara's face lights up in an instant. "For real?"

Now Magna's the one to raise her shoulders. "Evidently, yeah."

Leaning in a bit, Tara looks at me. "Maybe we should give them a chance? You know, hear what they've got to say?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle, I shake my head. "I guess you should have started with the beer," I grin at Magna. "Alright then, let's go."

Without another word we make our way to the main gate behind which Magna's long-lost friends await for us. Though not in a hurry, we're all walking with a quick pace, yet as soon as the heavy door opens I freeze to the ground.

One look.

It only takes one look. One look at a face I've seen so many times before. A face I looked up to, often literally, as one does in the presence of a Commander, standing majestically in front of her thrown.

The memory hits me at full force. It's so strong, so sharp, that it doesn't even confuse me, although at some level I realize it doesn't make sense. But there's no time to ponder on that. I'm already back. Back in the last place I recall. Back in the throne room.

Yet this time she's not there.

She's gone. Her throne is empty. And now it's up to me.

I shouldn't have to worry though. I'm prepared. I prepared for this my whole life. She did that. She taught me everything. Sure there were others, but they were just talking. Their words didn't mean anything. It was all her. She made me believe. In myself. In my destiny. In serving this higher purpose.

Such horseshit!

As I watch the massacre around me, watch how this place turns into a bloodbath in the blink of an eye, that's all I can think: such horseshit!

This can't be anyone's destiny. There's no way this can be the fate of an innocent.

The thought paralyzes me. With everyone around me fighting for dear life, I just stand there. It isn't until the Azgeda girl is coming straight toward me—her blood-drenched sword drawn above her head—that I suddenly become aware that I'm the last one standing. That this is it.

I clench my fist around the handle of my sword and take a step to the side in an attempt to seek cover behind the throne. I glance at it, just briefly, and realize how for the first time in my life it doesn't give me strength. It doesn't remind me why I'm doing this.

It only makes me angry.

When I try to fight off my attacker, who's so much stronger, so much bigger than me, I don't even see her. All I see is Lexa. Who I loved. Who I trusted. And who put me here to die.

I don't fight for the throne. I fight for my life. But I don't stand a chance. I never did. I see it crystal clear now. Now - as the sharp blade pierces my abdomen.

"Jesus, come on, let's just hear them out!"

Tara's loud voice pulls me back and makes me focus on my surroundings again.

With my eyes stuck on the young woman less than thirty feet away from me, I take a few more steps, until once again I simply can't anymore. An overwhelming sense of betrayal engulfs me.

"I'm not talking to her," I state. Still staring at this ghost from my past I take another small step. "She doesn't get anything from me!"

I take a quick look at Tara, then force myself to look straight into Lexa's eyes again. Fueled by pain and bitterness, I raise my voice, "You took enough already!"

She doesn't say anything. She just sits there, on the hood of an old car. I watch how confusion clouds her face. She doesn't recognize me. For some reason that angers me even more. It awakens me. My body takes over and before I know it I cross the open space between us until I stand eye to eye with her. For the first time in my life—the first part of it as well as the second—I look down on her.

"You have know idea, do you?"

She shakes her head, just slightly. "I-I don't. You're sure we know each other?"

"Oh, I'm sure," I nod without breaking eye-contact. "Maybe you should dig a little deeper... Heda."

The mention of her title makes her gasp. Just for a second, but enough to notice. She's unsure. Unbalanced.

Her jaw tightens.

"Did you... Did you fight for me?" she quietly asks under her voice. "I'm sorry, there were so many, I didn't know every—"

"Oh, I fought for you!" I cut her off harshly. "Not in your army though. Oh no, I was way too young for that. Fighting till death, on the other hand, doesn't know age... does it?"

She blinks, leans forward and peers deep into my eyes, searching for any sign of recognition in the one part of me that hasn't aged.

"A-Aden?" she whispers.

"I was only eleven!!"

My sudden outburst makes her flinch. She starts stammering, but I don't want to hear her weak excuses.

"I was just a child," I go on, a little less loud this time.

"A special child!" she corrects me as she quickly sits up straight. She reaches out her hand, about to rest it on my arm, but I move away to avoid her touch.

"Right. A special child that got zero chance to become a special man. Or any man at all. I need to be grateful for that?"

She heaves a deep, sorrowful sigh. "I know it's not fair. I do, I know. Now more than ever. But Aden, that's how we lived!"

"That's how I died!"

"What was I supposed to do?!"

"You were supposed to protect me!" I cry out, taking a last step forward while I point my finger at her. "You were my Commander. You were the one to keep me safe. If any one could have ended this—"

"No! No, I couldn't!" she exclaims. She shakes her head, more vigorously than before. "There was no choice. I had no choice."

"A Commander always has a choice! You chose culture—ancient history!—over life. You chose to prepare us for death. And the worst thing is, you did so by making us believe it was the right thing to do. You made me trust you, worship you, willing to die for you. You know what we call that here? Indoctrination!"

She swallows and averts her eyes to the ground.

"You chose not to save us. Not to save me," I go on unabated. "Now I'm doing the same."

I turn around and start walking toward the gate without looking back.

"Reshop Heda," I call over my shoulder, right before I pass Tara and Magna. "I want you off our grounds before sunrise."

... ...

Chapter Text

For the first time since I set foot on this planet, I really don't know what to do. Or to say.

Jesus—or should I say Aden?—left minutes ago, followed by Luna and Tara, who both had been standing out of earshot, but simply couldn't have missed the sudden, heavy vibe. Lexa hasn't said a word since. She hasn't even moved. And so neither have I.

I turn my head to look at her. She just stares ahead, her gaze fixed onto nothing. I'm not even sure she realizes I'm still here. Cautious not to scare her, I gently lay my hand upon her upper arm.

"He's wrong," I quietly tell her, "You know that, right?"

Lexa draws her lips between her teeth, swallows visibly, then slowly faces me.

"Is he?"

"Of course he is!" I cry out, startling myself with my forcefulness. I lower my voice again. "You were the most bold, the most committed and the most caring Commander one could wish for. Always striving for a better world, with less war. Less pain. You were the only one who didn't want to hide behind traditions or culture any longer. Who made people see that it's not always an eye for an eye."

She scoffs. "And yet I didn't do anything to protect those kids." Her voice sounds unrelenting. "I went through the same childhood, survived in the most horrible way, then had to become someone I didn't even want to be. I experienced it—lived it!—and still made them go through the same."

"You cared about them! I've seen it with my own eyes."

"I did," she nods, "Which makes it even worse..."

She jumps off the hood and straightens her back. "He's got every right to hate me."

Not waiting for my response, she turns around and starts to walk toward the camp. Still unable to move, I watch her go. I can see her misery reflected in her defeated stride, in her slumped shoulders. Like she's carrying the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, all by herself. All alone.

Then it hits me.

Taking a sprint I quickly catch up with her. "It wasn't you," I pant, my chest rising and falling as I gasp for air. "You told me yourself. The other Commanders, their voices in your head, being stronger than anything. Insisting—"

"Clarke!"

"No, listen to me! I know you feel guilty, but how can you be when you weren't in control?"

She inhales sharply. "You make it sound like I wasn't me. Tell me this, then. You think it was them who changed Finn's death sentence? You think it was them accepting you as our allies, as our 13th clan?" Taking a step closer she looks deeply into my eyes. "You think it was them who fell in love with you?"

I stare back at her, speechless.

"The Flame tells you to be the best Commander. It reminds you to fulfill your duty. Which is why I knew Madi would never leave. How to be that Commander, that's up to you though. I'm not blaming anyone else for my decisions. And neither should you. I failed those kids. I let them down. That's something I will have to live with."

I feel conflicted. It hurts to see her this upset, this angry with herself. But I can't help feeling a little proud as well. She doesn't shirk away from her responsibility. And, I realize, she doesn't want me to say anything to make her feel better. So instead I take a deep breath, force a small, accepting smile and just nod.

She takes my hand and gives it a light squeeze. "Come on," she sighs, "We've got less than a day to come up with a new plan. We need to find the others."

Our camp looks the way we left it, except that it seems deserted now. It isn't though. As soon as we reach the campfire spot in the middle of it, Al and Strand appear from both sides.

"You're back!" Strand welcomes us.

"We sure are," Lexa grins, although her eyes don't match her smile. "Where is everyone? They aren't looking for us, are they?"

Al shakes her head. "No, they're not. We found your note. They're just scavenging." She closes the distance between us, continuing in a soft voice, "You did get me worried though."

Lexa takes a seat on one of the logs. "You really didn't had to. At least not about our trip."

"What's going on?" Strand asks, his forehead creasing into a frown as he squats down. When Al sits down as well, I don't hesitate to do the same. Lexa briefly glances at me, inhales and nods as if to say: here we go.

"Okay, I'm just gonna say it. We can't stay here. We have to be gone before the break of day."

She shares the news in one long breath. For a moment the others just stare at her.

"But... why?" Al questions, "Did we do something to piss them off?"

"You didn't," Lexa reassures her, "And neither did Clarke!" she quickly adds when they're both instantly looking at me. "Look, it's me. I know a few of them from a long time ago, and—"

"Lexa!"

Luna's sudden voice makes us all look up. As she makes her way toward us, Strand frowns again.

"Alright, that's the second time someone calls you Lexa. What's up with that?"

Lexa opens her mouth, but no words come out.

"You didn't know her real name is Alexa? Lexa for short?" I come to her aid, "Huh, I'd think she would have told you somewhere over the years."

"Y-Yeah," Lexa stammers, her eyes meeting Luna's who is now about to join us, "It's true. I just... I hate that name. I always have. So I changed it to Alicia when I was like twelve, or something. She doesn't know any better," she goes on with her eyes still on Luna, before directing them at me, "And she's just a big tease who likes to remind me."

Acting along, I pull a face and shrug. "I just got a thing for the past."

Luna sits down on the ground with us. "Right, of course - Alicia. Sorry about that," she starts as she stifles a laugh, " I uhm... I talked to Jesus."

Like stung by a bee, Lexa jerks up her head. "Did he change his mind?"

"No. I'm sorry, he just clarified that he was only talking about you. You need to go. The rest can stay."

Deeply exhaling, Lexa stares at her feet. She doesn't say anything.

"You gotta know, Jesus... he's not like this," Luna goes on. "He's a good guy. Friendly. Fair. And merciful. So whatever happened between the two of you must have really hurt him."

"It did. And I am to blame. So I will go," Lexa sighs, breaking my heart as she does so. I rest my hand on her knee.

"We will go," I tell them.

Strand stands up and stretches his legs, groaning since he's been kneeling down for too long. "I have no clue what you guys are talking about, but if you're going, I'm going."

Lexa thanks him by flashing a grateful smile, but before she can speak up, Luna comes in between.

"Before you all decide to leave... I might know a place where you could go. Tara just told me about it. There's just one thing: they have a women-only policy." She looks up at Strand, apology shining through in her eyes.

Al leans forward. "There must be other safe places you know of...?"

"Yes, I know two more," Luna nods, "They're up north. But Hilltop works closely with them. All together, we're like one big community. So Jesus will not allow you to go there either."

I shift in my seat, then turn toward Lexa. "What do you think?"

"I don't know." She slowly shakes her head before looking up again, her eyes now on her friends. "I lost one family already. I don't think I can lose another."

This time Strand is the one to show her a smile, warm and caring. "I hear you, girl. But for now it all comes down to safety. It's pretty clear there's nothing in this whole wide area, nowhere to be safe. The dead are in the majority. And then there are these clowns with their freaky masks. We gonna need an army to defeat them!"

"What are you saying?" Lexa asks him.

"I'm saying we need all the safety we can get. If you can get in there, and we can get in here, then we live. We live, and we become part of a bigger world, and we become strong enough to fight whoever we need to fight. We survive and... and..."

"... we meet again," I complete his sentence.

He nods. "And we meet again."

Lexa heaves another sigh. "I don't know," she murmurs again, before looking at Luna. "Where exactly is this place?"

Luna takes a stick of the ground and sweeps the leaves aside with her foot. She draws a cross in the sand. "Okay, we're here. About fifty miles southwest of DC." She writes the letters down, followed by two more small crosses, one of them close to the D. "These are our other communities, so let's call that the wrong direction for now. This area in the middle is even more no-go, as it's claimed by the Whisperers."

She swiftly moves the stick through the soil, indicating a rather large area.

I raise my brows. "Weren't we there this morning?"

"Yes, right here," Luna nods, drawing another small cross, about twenty miles north from Hilltop. "Now as you can see, you don't want to go in that direction. Oceanside, on the other hand, is somewhere... here!" She draws an O, south-east of Hilltop, and too far away from it for my liking.

Lexa seems to read my mind. "Seems far away," she mumbles.

"According to Tara, about seventy, maybe eighty miles. A four hour ride, without any trouble. Or a three day hike... at least," Luna confirms my suspicion. She throws the stick to the side. "It's not next door, but not the end of the world either."

I swallow. It is when you've got a kid a hundred miles away.

Without a word, Lexa suddenly gets up. I tilt my head and follow her with my eyes as she starts pacing back and forth. She looks pensive.

"I think you should do—"

"No!" she harshly interrupts Al, though with her eyes back on Luna. "It's too far, and in the wrong direction. I'm sorry, I appreciate you trying to help, but it's not an option."

I jump to my feet before anyone can fight her on this. Taking her by the elbow, I pull her along with me, until we're out of hearing distance.

"You're thinking about Madi, aren't you?" I quietly ask her.

"Of course I am!" she exclaims, though also beneath her breath. "About Madi, and about you. You can't be that far apart from each other. I won't let that happen. If we want to get her back—"

"Lexa, we are not getting her back! Not any time soon. No matter where we are. That's a fact we have to accept. A fact I have to accept." A sad sigh escapes me. "She made her choice. And even though I don't particularly like that choice, I am proud of her for making it. For knowing what she wants, and acting to it. You know, people keep telling me she's a lot like me, but to be honest, she's way more like you. If I didn't know any better..."

I wink and finally get her to laugh for a moment.

"I think Strand is right," I go on without joking, "We all need to be safe for now. And we need to trust that Madi is okay, even though she's in this... this Whisperer territory. She is safe. Because she's got an army of Grounders to protect her. Who are real warriors. Those folks here are nothing compared to them! You know that. She's got Indra by her side. And an arsenal of weapons from the Eligius the people here can only dream about. Truth is, if anyone can defeat those assholes, it's Madi."

"So you'll have her go to war while we drink piña colada's at the beach?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm going to build her a home. I'm going to make sure she actually has something to fight for. With the choice she made not to leave them, and the choice you made not to join them, that's really all I can do."

She squints at me. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"I am," I nod as I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, "But only if you're with me."

Her eyes drift off to the camp. To her friends, with whom she has traveled and lived with for so long. When she turns to me again, she slowly bobs her head. "I'm with you. Of course I'm with you."

"Then let's tell Luna," I smile, secretly a little relieved.

Lexa lowers her chin, widening her eyes. "Magna," she corrects me.

"Right! Magna! Magna, Magna, Magna! I really need to get that into my system," I smirk as I pull her close to me. "Can I still call you Lexa, though?"

"You can call me anything you want," she hums, "But I prefer Baby, Gorgeous, or, you know... The Greatest Love Of Your Life."

My laughter is cut off by her lips.

When we break apart I take her hand in mine. Together we join the small group again.

"We will go to Oceanside," my indeed Greatest Love tells Magna(!). "How will we find it?"

She gets up. "I'll ask Tara to draw a map - a real one," she grins, "And I'll go with you. Yumiko and I both will."

"Yumiko? No, we can't ask her to travel that far!" Lexa calls out, wide-eyed.

Magna smiles at her. "She can do it, trust me. By tomorrow it's been two days. The stitches will hold, right?"

I nod. They will.

"We can use the car, it will bring us at least halfway before it's empty again," she goes on. "Maybe I can get us a horse as well."

Lexa lets go of my hand and takes a step toward her old friend. "You really don't have to c—"

"I told you I'd help you, didn't I?" Magna cuts her off.

Lexa's lips curve into a thankful smile.

I join the two of them, lightly resting my hand on Lexa's lower back. "So it's the four of us?"

"Make that five," Al speaks up before anyone can confirm my question. "I will come, too."

Taken by surprise, we all stare at her.

"You are?" Lexa asks in astonishment.

"Hell yeah," she laughs, "Being around saves me from worrying. Plus it's all women, right? I bet there's a hell of a story behind that!"

... ...

Chapter Text

It's still dark when we meet at the gate, right where we left the car the other day. Magna and Yumiko are already waiting for us. And they're not alone. They brought two horses with them.

"These are yours?" I ask in surprise.

"We borrowed them," Yumiko explains while stroking the horse's neck, "With the promise to bring them back. Whenever that will be."

Clarke steps forward. "How's your leg?" she checks like a true physician.

"Much better, thank you," Yumiko smiles at her.

Magna lays her hand on her girl's shoulder. "Although she's healing well, we figured more rest can't harm. So Miko will take the car until it runs out of gas. To avoid overburdening the leg, and friction from the saddle."

"Then again, riding is still better than walking," Yumiko adds. "So as soon as the car turns useless, I'll jump on."

Magna looks at me. She winks. "You still remember how to ride?"

I scoff. "I remember quite well. My butt on the other hand..."

We all laugh, and with that it seems decided that Magna and I will ride the horses for the first part while the others take the car. Magna shows us the map she asked Tara to draw. With the amount of gasoline left in the tank, we reckon we can make it halfway. Those first forty miles aren't exactly a straight line though.

"Looks like Magna and I can take a lot of shortcuts. Which is good, cause it means you guys can actually drive with normal speed. I'd say we wait here, here and here for each other," I suggest as I circle soms junctions on the map. "When it takes over half an hour to meet up at these points we start looking till we're complete again."

"Sounds like a plan," Al nods. "Let me draw a copy."

While Al duplicates the map, Magna, Clarke and I load the car with our backpacks, tents and blankets. When everything is in place, we're ready to go.

I turn around and gently pat the horse that will be my companion for the next two or so hours. It's my way of getting acquainted before we can give each other our full confidence. A habit that has stuck from my past, I guess. However, before I can mount the animal, I feel a pair of arms wrap tightly around me from behind.

"Stay safe... baby," Clarke tells me in a whisper, her lips close to my ear.

A giggle bursts out of me and I quickly turn around to face her, smiling from ear to ear. I lean in and kiss her. "I will," I promise with my lips still close to hers.

She returns my smile, lets go of me and starts to walk towards the car.

"Hey," I call after her. She spins around. "It's gonna be alright, you know?"

Her forehead creases. "What is?"

"Everything. We'll find a place. Build a home. Our people will join us - if they want to. Heck, I might even marry you."

"You love me that much, huh?" She takes a step closer, her eyes twinkling as they meet mine.

"Nah... I just really want you to become Clarke Clark," I tease before suddenly pulling her in and locking our lips again. "Yes, you moron, I love you that much!" I tell her as soon as we break apart. Moving my lips to her ear, I whisper, "I always have."

... ...

"I really appreciate you helping us, joining us all the way there. Especially since you're leaving a great place behind."

I look to my side, where Magna is riding right next to me. She turns her head and smiles with a nod.

"Well, in all honesty, it's not all just for you," she confesses. "This whole previous-life thing, it's... overwhelming. To say the least. All the emotions, and all the questions on top of that. It just seemed wise to be around someone who's going through the same."

"Makes sense," I agree, "But for that you actually could have stayed right where you were."

She glances at me with a questioning look. I lift my shoulder in a one-sided shrug. "Why do you think Jesus sent me away?"

Her eyes could not have grown any bigger.

As we cross an open meadow, I tell her all about Aden, who she got to know as Jesus, but who's actually both of them - in the same idiotic way as we are one with our past. I tell her about our connection back then, and how it's now firing back at me.

"I still haven't figured out why all this is happening to me - to us. But the encounter with Jesus got me thinking... maybe it's some kind of karma? You know, what goes around comes around?"

"Hm, I don't think that's what it is," Magna murmurs. "If it were, I'm pretty sure I would have returned as a woodlouse."

I want to laugh, but I stop myself when I see she isn't joking.

"I don't know," she goes on, "It feels like we've been given a fresh start. At least that's what it looks like. Don't know about you, but my life ended with a giant hole in my torso, yet I was born again without a scratch. I'm not even a Nightblood anymore. Are you?"

I shake my head. I'm not.

I let her words sink in. It's true that we left a part of ourselves behind. But it feels like I took the bigger part with me.

"How about the memories," I muse out loud. "The fact that we recall who we were? And what we did? That doesn't sound like a common reincarnation thing - which I'm not even sure I believe in. And it definitely doesn't feel like a fun bonus, since it wasn't exactly all beer and skittles back then."

"You think we remember it all for a reason?" she wonders, raising her brows.

"Maybe? What if that's what it's actually about? Having to deal with the bad stuff - the memories, the darkness, the consequences of our choices? We never got the chance to make things right, as our lives ended all so abruptly. We never got to feel it... to live with it."

"That wouldn't explain Aden's comeback though, would it? He sounded pretty innocent to me?"

A sigh escapes me. "You're right. I can't think of any reason why he would deserve this... this... punishment."

We reach a stream and stay quiet for a moment while we cross it, as it turns out to be a little deeper than it looked like at first sight. We make it to the other side with dry feet though.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be a punishment," Magna continues when we're back on the shore. "Maybe there's not even a higher purpose? It might just be about second chances. About coming to terms with whatever we need to deal with, whether as a perpetrator or as a victim, so we can move on after all."

"So we can actually live this life without any burden?"

She shrugs. "Well, dwelling in the past never helps. The sooner you can leave it all behind..."

"You think it really works like that?" I question, "Like, when you decided to distance yourself from Luna, to simply state she's gone, did that help you to turn that switch?"

Moving her eyes to the path in front of us, she draws in a long breath, then blows out her cheeks. "No," she admits. "As much as I want to stick my head in the sand, I know there are a few things I have to face. I just don't know how yet. Also, I can't help but wonder..."

She falls quiet.

"Wonder what?" I cautiously ask.

She looks at me again, briefly. There's this sadness in her eyes I haven't seen before.

"Do you... Do you think my brother is somewhere out here as well?"

Her question surprises me. I hadn't thought about the possibility yet.

"Honestly? I don't know. But yeah, maybe. I mean, it's three of us already. All ending up in the same area. So, sure... who knows."

"Guess it would be impossible to find him though," she sighs. "He might be aged, like Jesus. Or—" Her eye catches a walker, tied to a tree and deliriously biting into the air. "Or look like him."

As we pass the undead, I smash his brain with my gun barrel, releasing him from his inhumane, endless sentence.

"No, let's not go there! If he's here indeed, and he's anything like you, I'm sure he's doing alright," I tell her. "But I think you're right, looking for him would be useless. This world is too big, and he could simply be anyone."

She nods, and as our eyes meet again, a small smirk appears on her face. "Plus there's the fact of us heading towards an all-female hideout."

"Plus there's that," I grin in response.

"Or at least that's the plan," she goes on as she points in the distance, where a four feet high wall is blocking our way. She looks at me defiantly. "You think you can handle that one?"

I answer her by spurring on my horse and galloping straight towards the barrier.

"Meet you on the other side," I call over my shoulder, and when I make the jump, I realize that's exactly what happened with us - and I'm really, really glad it did.

... ...

We were right: the car runs out of gas when we're almost halfway. As soon as it does, we put the blankets and tents on the horses and strap our backpacks on. The easy part is over.

Forty miles by foot takes about six times as long as it does by car. So we're up for at least twelve to fourteen hours, more if we run into trouble. We walk with hardly any breaks and cover a large part all together, but when darkness is about to fall we're all happy we can stop - admitting that our legs (and butts) are done with it.

Luckily we find an abandoned building that has once been a small shop, which offers us a safe place to sleep (and also—finally—some new, more fitting clothes for Clarke).

After a good night's sleep, we start part two early in the morning.

Just like yesterday, Yumiko rides on one horse and the rest of us takes turns riding the other. That is, the rest of us except for Al. She refuses to climb on it because, as it turns out, she once fell off one.

Thinking back of the moment when she confessed her fear yesterday, I can't help but laugh again.

"You know Al, I kind of thought you weren't scared of anything," I chuckle as I look at my friend, who's walking in front of me. She holds her pace so I can catch up with her, then looks at me. She knows what I'm talking about without asking.

"I'm not scared of horses," she sets me straight, "I'm just not riding them."

"Sure, whatever," I laugh. "It's funny, isn't it? We've met years ago and there's still so much I don't know about you."

"Ha, and that's coming from you!" she snorts.

I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Are you ever going to tell me about her?" she grins, bobbing her head towards Clarke, who's now riding the horse, about ten yards away from us. "Your instant girlfriend who came falling out of the sky just like that?"

"I can imagine it looked like that," I chuckle, understanding her curiosity. "But we actually go far back. We were together before."

"Before the outbreak? I thought you had a boyfriend back then?"

"I did, yes. Matt..." I smile. A feeling of melancholy hits me. It's been a while since I thought of him. I sigh and focus on my friend again. "No, I actually met Clarke way before that. We were in some kids club together. Like the Girl Scouts. That's where we met Magna, too."

She looks at me, her eyes full of questions. The journalist in her wants more. Fortunately, knowing her longer than today, I prepared myself for this moment.

"We lost touch during high school, but ran into each other again shortly after the world fell apart - but before I met Strand," I start to tell. "We weren't exactly kids anymore, and we uh... we really hit it off. So to speak. Sadly we lost each other soon after. I only learned just now that she'd been taken by the army. She's been with them ever since."

I can't believe I'm lying to my friend like this. Especially because Al is always in for a good story and I'm positive she would really love the original one - if she could ever believe it. I'm just glad that she at least seems to be digging this alternative version as well.

"Those people she was with, they were soldiers?" she asks eagerly, yet with some understandable skepticism in her voice.

"Yes. Well, no, not soldiers like any soldiers we know," I go on, trying to remember the story I made up in my head. "They were part of some special division. After the US army had fallen, they kept going on, now adjusted to this new world. Fully undercover, they aim to do good by going after the bad. That's why they chose this area, apparently. They're here to fight the Whisperers. That's all I know. I can't tell you anything more, since Clarke claims she already said too much. It's a secret mission."

Al nods. "I get that. How about that spacecraft... rocket ship... whatever that thing was? How did they get it?"

I put my hand on her shoulder and pull her a bit downwards to get closer to her ear. "Dreamland," I mumble beneath my breath.

"No way!" she gasps, wide-eyed. "Area 51? For real?! They got in there?"

I wiggle my brows. If I have to come up with a story, it might as well be an entertaining one. Nevertheless I swear to myself right here and right now that one day I'll tell her the truth, and make up for lying in whatever way I can or need to.

"You know what, forget that I even asked," she cries out, "Hearing these kind of stories, now that my camera broke down... it's too much!"

I can't help but laugh. "You can always consider reviving the written press," I joke, bumping my shoulder against her arm in my failed attempted to hit her shoulder.

She playfully pushes me back aside. Frolicking like this, we reach the bridge where the others are waiting for us.

"Time to get out those white flags," Magna tells us.

Unlike us, she isn't joking. Tara explained how Oceanside manages to keep the enemy out: they simply kill every stranger that gets to close. And although they are supposed to be on better terms with some other communities these days, we don't want to take any risk.

With white rags in our hands, we cross the bridge and leave the road to follow the dry river to the east. Somewhere between these trees and the ocean should be a place we might call home. If we make it there alive...

We walk through the nullah in silence, all five of us, with the horses right behind us on their leashes. Despite the fact that we must be getting closer to the coast, the forest around us is getting thicker with every few hundred yards, making it more and more difficult to see through the trees. Which is why the young woman in front of us seems to be coming out of nowhere.

"Stop right there!" she tells us in a clear, steady voice.

Magna immediately waves her flag, and we all follow her example. You'd think I'd feel silly, but the rifle she's holding stops me from thinking anything at all.

"We're friends of Tara Chambler," Magna starts to explain. She makes sure not to make any unexpected movements. "She wrote a note for Cyndie. You know her?"

"I do," the woman nods, "I am her."

Exhaling in relief, Magna forces a smile. "Great! I've got it right here in my pocket. Can I take it out for you?"

"Yes. Show me from over there, then bring it to me. The rest of you stay there!" Cyndie orders, continuing when Magna slowly walks towards her, "I told Tara to never ever tell anyone about us. That seems to be going well."

She might be pointing a heavy shotgun at us, but somehow I like her already.

Cyndie takes the note from Magna, who quickly takes a step backwards, and reads it without giving us the chance to pull a trick on her. When she's done, she lowers her hand with the small piece of paper and the one with the rifle.

"Alright," she nods again, "Any of you know how to fish?"

... ...

Chapter Text

After our somewhat unconventional meeting, a week ago today, Cyndie took us to her settlement without further questions. Evidently Tara's letter was that convincing. Or maybe she owed her something? Whatever it was, for once it finally felt as if luck was on our side.

And that feeling only increased when we actually got to Oceanside, which turned out to be some former beach resort, or campground. I don't know, something fun and recreational. Of course by now its holiday days are far over. They've turned it into a small village over time, with people actually living and working in the various cabins, and with the old swimming pool now serving as a vegetable garden, but despite all that, the whole place still has this cozy, holiday ambiance. A homey atmosphere I wasn't aware I needed until I set foot there. Me - the restless, always yearning for excitement, metropolitan (yet you-can-send-me-anywhere-for-a-story) news reporter.

Then again, even without the disastrous outbreak, my young and fearless fresh out of college days would be far behind me by now, so who knows, perhaps the adventurous missions and bar hopping nights would have been, too. Who knows what my life would have looked like these days if things hadn't gone to hell?

Anyway...

We made it to the compound, where they happened to have one cabin left. The poorest one - of course. Between you and me, a shack would be a better word. But it was still a whole lot more than anything we've had for the past year. It has a roof, some decent beds and a small kitchen with a stove. It even has running water.

So far for the good part. It's also the size of a shoebox, while we have to share it with the five of us. And sharing with two couples... not that great.

Cyndie and her friend Rachel, the two leaders of Oceanside, didn't ask us for much in return, except for our contribution. No one stays in Oceanside without a job - with the exception of the few kids that grow up here; they actually go to school. So the question was: what did we had to offer?

Unfortunately for me they didn't need a journalist. In retrospect it might have been better not to have asked them what they did need, because now I'm part of the fishing team. And unlike Magna, who joined me, I'm not doing great in, on or even around the water.

Where Magna dazzled everyone with her natural fishing skills from the first minute on (I am starting to suspect that she's secretly a mermaid), I've been failing on every level. We've been out there five times by now and I still haven't caught anything. Instead, I got seasick twice—barfing and everything—and fell off the boat once.

I really don't know why they haven't fired me yet.

In the meantime, while I've been making a complete fool of myself, Alicia and Yumiko both joined the hunting squad, and Clarke started to help out at the small clinic. Alongside all this, all five of us started helping to guard this place, just like everyone else who lives here.

So, I guess it's safe to say that we've all been pretty busy since the day we arrived here. Which is certainly something I needed to get used to again, but to my own surprise I have to admit it feels good. For the first time in forever, things seem as they used to be in what now feels like a previous life... Well, except for the lack of  Friday nights out that is.

But tonight it turns out they even found some kind of alternative for that as well. Cause tonight it's party time in Oceanside!

To celebrate Rachel's birthday they built a bonfire on the beach, and although we have to do without Jimbo's Beerbos, they managed to organize some good snacks and drinks. With lots of laughter, chit-chat and even a few songs, the night really isn't that much different from a night in a bar. A beach bar instead of a Hell's Kitchen one, but still.

It's not just funny tales though. Tonight we also get to hear the sad ones.

We learn why there are no grown men around here, and how it has nothing to do with rainbow flags. They used to have plenty of brothers, husbands, fathers and sons around. Until a couple of years ago this group called the Saviors decided to kill every male over the age of ten. Which is why the few boys left are now all between five and fourteen.

The truth about their history leaves us speechless for a bit. Now that the evening is turning into night and with most of the attendees gone (or on watch - like Magna and Yumiko), we're only left with a handful of people, so our sudden silence is quite dominant. For a short moment the air is filled with nothing but the crackling sound of the fire and the rolling roar of the waves.

It's Cyndie who lightens the mood again.

"Anyhow, enough with all the misery!" she blurts out, cracking a smile as she looks around at us. "How about you guys? You've always been friends?"

A snort escapes me before I can stop it. "You wanna tell how we met?" I ask Alicia. She's sitting on the other side of the fire, whose flames are now less than two feet high.

"You mean how I pretended to be hurt, before I almost pierced your throat?" she grins, "I'm not sure if I should, Al."

I mirror her grin. "I also remember some serious wrestling in my truck. Actually still got a scar from that!"

"Ah, the foes to friends story," Rachel laughs. "Those are always hard to beat."

Alicia's smirk grows even bigger. "How about the classic enemies to lovers tale? I'm not the only one putting knives to throats." She wraps her arm around Clarke and pulls her close against her. "This one almost slit mine once!"

"You might want to mention how you betrayed me not long before that," Clarke mumbles in a quasi-defensive way, yet unable to hide her amusement.

"Yeah, that also sounds like a better-not," Alicia sniggers. She wiggles her brows at her, which seems to be the start of a silent conversation between the two of them I don't necessarily need to witness.

Averting my eyes, I poke a stick in the fire to stir up the flames and watch the sparks fly up in the sky.

"Well, I think we can all agree that not always going for the kill works out sometimes. Right, sis?" Cyndie winks at her young companion. "We wouldn't be sitting here with new friends if we had stuck to our rules and killed Tara back then."

"You mean if you hadn't stopped me?!" Rachel scoffs.

Cyndie spreads her hands. "Well, I didn't want to say it..." Without waiting for her mate's reaction, she raises her glass. "To new friends! And to old one's adding another year to the list!"

We all toast and congratulate the birthday girl.

"Now tell me," Alicia asks laughing, "how do you even know it's your birthday?"

Rachel grins. "I don't. I mean, no one has a clue what day it is, right? But that doesn't mean we shouldn't celebrate anymore. So whenever we decide we deserve some fun, we pick a night and the next person on the calendar, and we have a party. And hey, as long as it doesn't snow it could be my day... I'm born in June, you see."

Clarke shakes her head. "I'm really starting to wonder why they got us thinking you're all rough and tough, and not to mess with."

"Because we are!" Rachel exclaims. "Believe me, you don't want to fight us! This, what you see here, this is just us behind the scenes."

The sound of laughter rises up again. Nonetheless I can still hear Alicia quietly asking Clarke if she's ready to move behind the scenes as well. I can only assume Clarke's giggle means yes, especially when they both stand up, together as one.

Mary and Deb, two of my fellow fishing mates, follow their example, as does Rachel. After wishing everyone goodnight, the whole bunch leaves the small beach. My gaze only follows my own friend though.

"Does she know?"

Cyndie's voice coming from beside me startles me. For some reason I thought I was the only one left.

"What? Who?!" I stammer.

"Alicia? Does she know you're into her?"

"I-I'm not..." As I stop myself from talking, a heavy sigh escapes me. I look heavenward, cursing myself, and shake my head, slowly. "No, I don't think so."

Cyndie shifts in her spot. We'd be facing each other now if I would do the same - which I don't. I do look at her though, from the corner of my eyes. There's a soft, friendly smile on her lips, and despite the fact that I would do anything to lure a potential deadly herd right now, just for the sake of distraction, I catch myself briefly smiling back at her, then make some hopeless, half-shrug gesture.

"So, what's your story?" she asks.

"I thought there was no place for journalists here?" I scoff, though laughing.

Her brows arch and she keeps staring at me with those big, brown eyes - eager yet patiently. A dangerous combination.

Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, I clear my throat and shake my head again, before surprising the both of us by suddenly pulling my beanie down, covering at least half of my face. Her laughter sounds warm and genuine, like she actually thinks I'm funny, which is why I don't fight her when she pulls it off my head. I don't look at her, but I can tell she's still smiling when she speaks up.

"Isn't it weird that no matter how old you get, there are just some things in life that will always make you feel fifteen again?"

I nod in understanding, then turn my head, facing her again.

"I used to be cool, you know?"

"Weren't we all?" she laughs, and I can't help but chuckle along. She tosses the beanie into my lap. "For what it's worth, I still think you're cool. The whole world went down, but you're still standing. You survived. You did that. Nobody else. And not just by depending on others. I heard about your skills—"

"From whom?"

She cocks her head.

"Alicia..." I mumble.

Leaning forward she pats my knee. "I'm just saying you're more than a chick with a crush. And way more than a chick who can't fish."

I moan. "You heard about that too, huh?"

"I hear everything," she grins. "You want me to find you a better job?"

A deep, relieved sigh falls of my lips. "I think that's best for everyone!"

"Consider it done," she shrugs with casual authority, "... if you tell me about Alicia."

"Oh, come on!" I cry out, throwing my head back in despair. "Why would that even interest you? It's just more misery. Weren't you done with that for tonight?"

She shrugs again. "I don't know. Perhaps I just hate how the pandemic wasn't just the end of civilization... it also robbed me from my beloved telenovelas. I guess after all this time I'm just dying for a juicy love story - even if it's a tragic one."

I roll my eyes. Hopeless. This girl is hopeless. More hopeless than me!

On the other hand... she does sound sincere. And would it really be so bad to let my guard down for once? To trust someone a little? It might actually be nice to have another friend here. One that isn't her.

I take a deep breath and turn towards her, mirroring her cross-legged position.

"I don't think there's a real story to tell here. Alicia and I, we've been friends for quite some years. Just friends. We're real easy around each other. Always goofing around, cracking jokes - at least that's what I want her to believe. Sure as hell don't want her to know I was actually flirting with her now and again! Even though once in a blue moon she gave me this feeling, this spark of a hint, that maybe it wasn't just me. That there might actually have been some sort of vibe between us."

I pause for a moment to catch my breath. When I continue I lower my gaze, picking a piece of lint from my ragged jeans.

"Whether I was right or not, I always kept telling myself it was all in my head. Because it didn't make sense. Because I knew her - I knew her well enough to see that it couldn't be real. Yet of course I knew myself even better. I knew I wasn't just flirting a bit. I was falling for her. I couldn't deny those feelings. I could, however, shove them to the background. Which I did, obviously, as I decided that acting on them would only jeopardize our friendship."

My shoulders sag and I exhale. "You know, I simply believed she wasn't an option. I really never knew she was into..." I raise my hand and give a vague wave. "I just never knew. And when I found out that I was wrong, I was too late."

Cyndie narrows her eyes. "Are you really?"

"You've seen them, right?" I sigh.

Slowly nodding her head, she pouts compassionately. "Must be tough, watching them together all the time."

"Watching them, listening to them... living with them! You know the worst thing is that I'm doing this to myself. I could have let them go—let her go—and just stay behind with the others. Out of sight, out of mind, right? But I reckoned I'd rather be around her knowing she would never feel the same, than..." I fall quiet for another moment. "Clearly I am my own worst enemy."

"Well, you couldn't know you had to live in a frat house here," she laughs, before quickly resting her hands on my knees again and adding, "Sorry, that's not funny!"

An unexpected but very welcome chuckle bursts of my lips. "It kind of is, actually... when you think of it. The five of us cramped in there together."

"I'd rather not, but I'm glad to see you laugh again," she joins my snickering. "And you know what?"

I break my stare, which I was unaware of till now, and move my eyes from her hands on my knees up to her face. The warm glow of the campfire illuminates her caramel-colored skin.

"What?"

She scooches closer, our knees now practically touching, and leans in as if she's about to share a secret. "I think it's her loss."

Accepting the lie for once, I feel my lips curve into a grateful smile.

"And if you ever need a place to stay..." she goes on.

My eyes grow wide. "You got an extra bed?"

She lifts her hand and gently brushes the lock of hair from my forehead to the side. Our eyes lock.

"No," she answers.

Her voice is dead serious, as is her stare. It makes me freeze, then swallow, and finally cracking up laughing - nervously, so basically like an idiot.

It doesn't unbalance her though. She doesn't look away, startled by her own words, or by my embarrassing reaction to them. She doesn't even blink. Instead her mouth slowly forms a small, seductive grin. The most beautiful one I've seen in a very long time. The most tempting one, too.

And yet...

"I-I'm flattered. I am!" I murmur, averting my eyes to the darkness of the ocean. "But I... I can't. It wouldn't be fair. To you, I mean."

She gets up, wiping the sand of her jeans. "Who says it needs to be fair? Who says it needs to be anything at all? Anything but some well deserved distraction?!"

She reaches out her hand to me.

Subconsciously my eyes wander to my cabin, half hidden behind the trees. The lights are out, but I can still see the outline of it. I press my lips together.

Cyndie doesn't say anything. She doesn't move either. She just waits, patiently, as she watches me - with her hand still open like an invitation. I look up at her and catch the sparkle in her eyes. A sparkle that somehow brings me back to that other life.

Ten years ago I would not have thought twice about this. Eager for life I took every chance I got, always, and I didn't allow myself any regrets over lost opportunities. Why would today be any different?

I mean, come on... look at her!

Fighting another chuckle, I shake my head.

"It's been long enough," I smile to myself as I lay my hand in hers and let her pull me up, "It's time to live again."

... ...

Chapter Text

"Wow, I'd never thought I'd say this, but you're terrible at this!" Trying to keep from laughing, I quickly suck my lips into my mouth. Lexa gives me a death glare.

"Not helping, Clarke!" she grumbles.

"I'm sorry," I nicker, unable to control myself any longer, "It's just... how can you throw knives and spears, piercing moving body parts from afar... yet not shoot a single arrow?"

She takes another arrow from her quiver and places it in position.

"I can shoot!" she sets me straight - eyes on the target as she pulls the string back. When she lets go, the arrow whistles towards the tree about thirty feet away from us, missing it by at least an arm's length. A deep sigh escapes her. "I just can't hit."

I make my way to the tree for what feels like the hundredth time—my job for the day as I promised her to help her practice—and look back at her over my shoulder, beaming. "Which is of course the least important part, so why bother, right?"

When I return to her with the collected arrows, she groans again.

"I just hate that I can't use a hunting rifle. And that knives and spears are so ineffective. I always sucked at archery," she mutters in frustration. "Why do you think I chose swords?"

I hand her the arrows and boop her nose with my index finger. "You'll get the hang of it. I'm telling you, before you know it you'll be the hunter of all hunters."

She scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"Just give it time," I cock my head, a smile lingering on my lips. "You know we've got plenty, right? Now that we're here."

Although her moping is wondrously adorable, I'm glad to see the corner of her lips quirking up.

"We made it, didn't we?" she smiles, making me grin as well.

"Sure looks like it." I step closer and place my hands on her hips. Pulling her in with no resistance from her side, our noses graze. "Though honestly every place with you feels like home," I softly hum.

I lean in to give her a light peck, but she surprises me by pressing her mouth firmly to mine. With her tongue running across my lower lip, I surrender without giving it a second thought and open my mouth to welcome her - ignoring the bow that's now pressed hard against my back as she pulls me even closer.

By now we've been this close, this intimate, more often than before I lost her, but it doesn't seem to make any difference. It doesn't seem to matter. I honestly don't think I ever get used to it. My stomach still flips, my heart still feels like it's about to explode as soon as our lips touch, as soon as our tongues collide - as soon as we breathe as one.

It doesn't take long for the rest of my body to respond, craving for more. More hands. More lips. More Lexa. I briefly open my eyes to see if she's with me... and realize we're still in the middle of this small yet very public beach.

"Wait, wait!" I mumble against her lips. With my hands on her shoulders, I reluctantly push myself away from her a little. "Not here."

She takes a deep breath, then glances over my shoulder to our cabin, half hidden behind the trees. She grabs my hand. "Okay. Let's go home."

I stop her by pulling her back to me, sighing, "The other's are there." As soon as she's facing me again, I lift my hand and tuck a lock behind her ear. "Guess we haven't made it just yet."

We exhale in unison.

"Now what?" Lexa ponders, suddenly looking a little lost.

I shrug. "Back to practice?" I lean in to nudge her with my shoulder, then swiftly press a kiss on her cheek, making sure to stay away from her lips this time. "Play a little Cupid?"

"Make the trees fall in love with each other?" she snorts. "Sure, why not?"

Adjusting another arrow she gets in position again, draws, and releases.

"Yesss!!" I cheer as the arrow hits the trunk. "See?"

She shakes her head.

"What?!"

"I was aiming for the other tree."

My shoulders sag. "Oh." I move my eyes from Lexa to the tree with the arrow, then back to Lexa. "Well, at least it's stuck. That's progress."

Lexa puffs, telling me she doesn't agree, but already prepares for the next shot, not ready to give up - what I absolutely love about her.

The next two arrows are definitely more in line with the target, hitting the ground right in front of it. I stay quiet this time, not wanting to come off as annoyingly cheerful, but I exult in silence when I note the hint of a smile on her lips.

I wander to the tree again, leisurely and carefree, and kneel down to pick up the two arrows, but freeze in my motion when I don't find two but three of them in the sand. Did I miss one before?

The third one is partly hidden under some leaves, which is why I don't notice the difference until I pull it out. Unlike Yumiko's, which we're using for practice, the fletching of this one is quite small and, although black and white as well, the color seems slightly off.

"Clarke?"

I look up, watching Lexa walk towards me, a curious look on her face.

"What's up?"

As an answer I show her the arrow.

"You found us an extra one? Cool!" She stretches her hand to take it from me, but I'm already examining it again, more closely this time.

"I'm not sure we're talking lost and found here," I mumble. "I think I know this arrow."

She squats down besides me. Her eyes break away from the arrow and find mine. She raises her brows. "You do?"

I slowly nod. "I think it's from Echo."

"Echo? The Azgeda spy?!" Lexa's eyes grow even bigger.

Understanding her confusion as she still doesn't know the full story, I chuckle. "Believe me or not, but she's one of us now."

"Shooting arrows at us? Some ally you've got there!"

"Trust me, if she'd been shooting them at us, we'd be lying on the ground right now, bleeding to death." Unable to stop it, I feel my lips curl into a goofy smile. "She's not one to hit the wrong tree."

"Oh, shut up!" Lexa snarls again, though with laughter sparkling in her eyes. She playfully pushes me backwards, my butt hitting the sand before I know it, and grins at me like this settles the score.

"What do you think this means," she asks as I scramble back to my feet. "She's here?"

My eyes are already scanning our surroundings, peering through the trees for any sign. Of course there's no Echo. If she wants to be invisible, she's invisible. There is a clue though, about forty feet away from us.

"There!" I point.

It's another arrow, stuck to a tree. It's not a lot, but when we get there and look around again, we spot a third one, even further away from the settlement.

"She's leading us away from Oceanside," Lexa states.

I nod and take her hand. "Come on," I say, turning around already. Yet when she doesn't move, I face her again. "Please, come with me? Something must be going on. And whatever it is, I feel I really need you with me. And I swear Echo won't hurt you. Or want anything from you. She never did, did she?"

She shakes her head, slowly, but keeps hesitating.

"She watched us at the beach. Maybe even before today." I give her a light squeeze. "Like it or not, but she has seen you already."

Lexa doesn't answer. Instead she inhales deeply, lifts her free hand and abruptly pulls the arrow from the tree. "She might need these again," she murmurs, her voice hardly audible, before looking at me. "Let's go."

We follow the trail of arrows, collecting them all as we move away further and further from the place we call home now. By the time we've got our hands full, we must have crossed at least a mile. That's where the second surprise awaits us.

Echo is not alone.

Next to her, sitting on the hood of a rusty jeep, is Raven.

There's no point in turning around. They see us as soon as we see them. I quickly glance at Lexa. I know the history between them. I was there.

My own unresolved issues with Raven are nothing compared to theirs.

As we slowly draw closer, I realize that Raven doesn't look shocked by the sight of Lexa's presence. Puzzled, yes. But not dismayed. Echo must have told her about the resemblance.

Or maybe they already know—somehow—that this girl right next to me, dressed in sneakers, tight jeans and a light bomber jacket, actually is the fearless, former leader of an entire nation?

When we're only a few steps away, they both jump off the hood. I feel the sudden need to hug them, despite the fact that I know too well how Raven feels about me these days, but I fight the urge. It's really good to see them again though and it hits me how much I miss my own people.

I'm not sure if they feel the same.

"Hello Princess," Raven breaks our silence. Her eyes are cold. I hate that. "We didn't get the chance to catch up last time. I see you made some remarkable choices again. Or should I just call this the easy way out?"

Before I can answer, she looks at Lexa. "You're really her, aren't you?"

Lexa swallows, but doesn't flinch. "You remember?" she asks in return.

Raven lifts her arm, showing us the deep scar on her triceps. "Call me crazy, but I don't easily forget torture. Not to mention my first love being sentenced to death."

My eyes are glued on Lexa. She doesn't say anything, nor does she move. I recognize the slight clenching of her jaw though. Just like the fierce look in her eyes. She doesn't want to hear it, but I've been noticing more and more Heda shining through since she found me, since she remembered her old self. And today is no exception.

"How are you here?" Echo asks her.

"I don't know," Lexa answers truthfully, "How are you?"

"Madi," Echo shrugs. "She made me follow you guys the morning you left our camp. Needed to know where to find you, just in case."

I narrow my eyes. "That's half a moon ago. You've been here all along?"

She shakes her head. "No, I went back as soon as I knew you found a safe hideout here, being needed there, too. You might not be aware of it, but we got ourselves into a war within a week after landing."

"See, that's what friends do," Raven snarks, "They stay around when they can help."

"Yes Raven, I know!" I snap, louder than I want to, "I know I let you down - I let everybody down! You wanna hear me say it? I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

If it weren't for the sudden yet gentle touch of Lexa's hand on my shoulder, I'd probably apologize a thousand more times. Instead I fall quiet and just stare at my estranged friend, my face more grim than she deserves. She stares right back at me, keeping any more possible comments to herself. I guess this is our way of a ceasefire.

Lexa looks at Echo again. "Why did you come back? You need help fighting those Whisperers?"

"Whisperers?" Echo frowns.

"Yeah, those masked idiots. I assume that's who you are in war with?"

"Actually we got them already," Echo smirks scornful. "Indra led our army right into their territory, defeated everyone they encountered, and Shaw and Raven blew up their camp - Skaikru style. They didn't stand a chance."

"Not the most peaceful solution," Lexa nods with a blank expression, but with a shimmer in her eyes telling me she's trying really hard to suppress a grin at least as wide as Echo's. Like I said: once a Commander... "But problem solved," she concludes.

"We wish. Those fools were never a problem. Not for us. Maybe you forgot, with whatever has happened to you," she makes a vague gesture, "but the you I know could have finished them with her eyes closed."

I cough, just to check if I'm still capable of speaking. "Then what is? The problem, I mean?"

Echo directs her eyes at me. "The problem is the fact that the moment we kill people around here, they stand back up!"

"And turn us into them!" Raven adds as if in one breath.

They share a quick look and I intuitively feel that it's time to get nervous. My hand reaches out until it finds Lexa's. Our fingers lace together like silk. Her grip is firm and steady though, assuring me that whatever I'm about to hear, she's with me.

"Which is why we're here," Echo goes on. "It's Madi. She asked us to come and get you. She..."

When Echo stays quiet mid-sentence, I look at Raven. To my relief I finally recognize my old friend, as sympathy starts shining through her eyes. Averting mine for a second, she takes a sharp breath, before looking at me again - the anger on her face now completely replaced with sorrow.

"Clarke... Madi got bitten."

... ...

Chapter Text

As soon as my words are out, Clarke stumbles backwards, gasping for air and vigorously shaking her head.

"No! No! No!" Her frantic eyes move rapidly between me and Echo. "Tell me she didn't—"

"I'm sorry—" Echo tries to comfort her, but she doesn't even get the chance to explain; when Clarke collapses to her knees, a gruesome cry escapes her lungs - louder than every other sound around us. Louder than I ever heard before.

Despite everything that happened between us, everything she did to me, it breaks me to see her like this. No single soul should have to go through this pain.

Aware that every second of this unmeant torture is one too many, I speed towards her, with Echo right behind me. We both kneel down on the ground, close enough to make her really see us, but far enough so that Lexa, who's holding her tight and looks more protective than ever, can't lash out at us - physically that is.

"Clarke, no, wait! It's not like that. It's... Hey, look at me!" I pant, desperately trying to reach her, and relieved when her eyes finally find mine. "Madi is okay," I slowly go on, making sure she gets every word I say. "You hear me? She's sick, but—"

"What's wrong with you?!" Lexa cries out, her voice raised and her blazing green eyes spitting fire. "This is how you tell someone her child is about to die? Picking a fight, then casually mentioning that sh—"

"She's not!" I manage to interrupt her. "She's not dying!"

"Don't fool yourself! She got a bite? She dies! Just like everybody else," Lexa snarks, while pulling Clarke even closer into her arms. "You just got here. You have no idea. Or maybe by now you do, and you're just lying to yourself. But don't lie to us - to her. It's her kid you're talking about."

Echo shuffles closer and rests her hand on Lexa's shoulder. I wouldn't call myself a wimp, but I'm not ashamed to admit I'll never be as brave as her.

"Lexa, we're not lying. I swear. Just... try to calm down. Breathe. Take a second, both of you, and we'll try to explain."

Without checking at each other, Echo and I both move backwards again, giving them some space to catch their breath. From a short distance I watch how Clarke tries to control her breathing, while Lexa gently strokes her hair, wipes away her tears and talks to her in the softest voice.

A zillion questions cross my mind.

How is she here? Both Clarke and Murphy watched her die... didn't they? Did she trick them with some macabre act? Was she never really gone? But she has hardly aged... Was she in cryo-sleep, like us?!

My biggest question though is how this young woman I'm watching right now is the same as the merciless army commander I witnessed on the battle field.

As soon as Clarke is able to talk again, she looks at us and nods, telling us she's ready. We all move from the middle of the road to the side of it, even though I have the feeling not a lot of traffic drives by. Once seated, two pair of eyes, full of expectation, meet ours again.

"The day we arrived here, Diyoza got bitten," Echo starts. "Madi told us that you know about that. That you were actually the one explaining to her how to handle it. How to... end it. Madi was stubborn though. She wanted to see what would happen. So she locked her up instead, in a storage room at the Gagarin, for safety reasons. Within the next two days, Diyoza got sick."

Clarke narrows her eyes. "Sick how?"

"Sweating, shivering. Everything that comes with high fevers, basically. Could have been a delirium as well," I answer, trying to paint the picture. "That's when we came up with the plan of bringing her back to the Eligius. To the lab, where we could run some tests - and hopefully find a cure. We—Abby, Jackson and me—left shortly after you guys did, so we learned. By that time three others were bitten as well. So we ended up back in space with four people being infected with God-knows-what."

"In the meantime people on the ground started to run into these monsters by daylight and realized what we were actually dealing with. Not just some wild animals indeed," Echo adds.

Remembering the vivid horror stories they reported to us up in space, my face twists. "We kept hearing these horrible examples of what would happen if we acted too late, while in the meantime Abby and Jackson didn't get any further. With all questions unanswered, they had to admit that they couldn't help any of them. All they could do was putting all four of them back to cryo sleep. So we made sure to get them in those pods before they turned into... I don't even know what to call them."

"That worked?" Lexa asks, raising her brows in marvel. "They didn't turn?"

I shake my head. "They didn't. But it didn't resolve anything either. We had no clue if we could ever wake them up, so this was hardly any better than death. Plus I was already called back to get the next victim. Imagine my shock when I got to the ground and found out it was Madi who got a bite."

By the mention of Madi's name, Clarke gulps for air again. Lexa gently strokes her back and rests her other hand on her knee. She nods at me to go on.

"I brought her up to the mothership and we prepared ourselves for the worst, especially when the fevers started. But to everyone's astonishment, she stopped getting worse. On the contrary, she seemed to be doing better. She is doing better. Clarke, you have to believe me, she really seems okay."

Clarke looks straight at me. The fear in her eyes is indescribable.

"Then why are you here?"

"We got worried that maybe we'd acted too hastily. That we'd misunderstood. That those bites might have caused some serious infections, hence the fevers, but had nothing to do with those gnawing creatures on the ground. So we decided to wake one of them. Brell, a former Grounder. I don't know if you kn— doesn't matter..." I take a deep breath. "Point is, we shouldn't have. She turned before our eyes and we had no other choice than stab her brain."

"Told you," Lexa remarks with a shrug.

Clarke keeps her eyes on me. "And with all that you're still saying Madi is fine?"

"Because she sure as hell looks fine! She's healing, pretty quickly actually. I'm telling you, that kid is anything but dead!"

"So she's the one exception?" she frowns. "Why?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out. What's the difference between her and everyone else? What are the variables? A question we asked ourselves once before, as you might remember. Yet this time we came up with not one but two things. Nightblood, once again, and—"

"—the Flame," Clarke beats me to it.

"Exactly," I nod. "Now, it could be both, it could be neither, we don't know. But we sure as hell want to find out. Correction: need to find out. Cause maybe, just maybe, this could save us all."

Lexa pulls a face. "You're here less than three weeks and you found a cure for human kind? I always knew you space guys are cocky, but this beats everything."

"I won't take it that far, but we found something. There's no denying there. We just got stuck already."

"How?" she asks.

Now I'm the one to shrug. "We can't take the next step. If we take out the Flame to try it on one of the others, we might harm Madi. Cause if it is the Flame protecting her, what will happen to her when we take it away?"

"Besides, no one can bond with the Flame, since no one besides Madi is a Nightblood," Echo further explains.

Clarke exhales. She still looks beaten, though slightly less upset. "So start with the blood," she suggests.

"That's what we figured," I smile without joy, "but we can't do that either. Turned out Madi's blood is contaminated by the bite. She does carry the virus - if that's what this is. It just doesn't affect her."

"Yet," Clarke corrects me, her voice thin and fragile. "It doesn't affect her yet."

I slowly nod, not wanting to raise any false hope. Or being called a liar again.

"Abby thinks she can heal her with a full blood transfusion. That's why Madi sent us. To get you, and the others. The last part being quite the riddle, but I'm starting to understand," Echo goes on, her eyes now on Lexa.

Lexa sits up, straight and with her hands now back in her own lap - radiating authority without even trying. The lack of warpaint really doesn't make her any less of a commander.

"We're not Nightbloods anymore," she says.

Echo subconsciously mirrors her pose. "We?"

Clarke and Lexa exchange a brief look. When Clarke faces us again, she inhales deeply and rolls her shoulders, as if tension suddenly hit her, "Well, yeah... Lexa is not the only familiar face around here."

Confused, I sit back, blink a few times as I try to wrap my head around this, then look up at Lexa again. "But I don't know any Nightblood other than you. Except..." I falter for a moment. "No, that can't be. She died."

"I died," Lexa shrugs with a small, lopsided smile.

"That's what I believed until a few minutes ago," I scoff, "But you look very alive to me. So unless you came back from the death in a much prettier way than everyone else around here..."

"I'm sorry," Echo's voice drowns out mine, "Who are we talking about here?"

As I look to my side, I notice she looks just as puzzled as I probably do.

Lexa and Clarke share another glance, most likely trying to decide what to do. Shaking her head, Clarke  shrugs. "There's no going back now," she quietly mumbles.

Lexa turns to Echo again. "Luna," she sighs, and although I was waiting to hear that name, it still shocks me.

"The Floukru Nightblood!" Echo exclaims. "That's who was with you when I followed you here! I knew she looked familiar."

Lexa cocks her head, a curious look on her face. "You two met?"

"Well, we didn't exactly shake hands or anything, but yes, I saw her once," Echo nods. "At the final Conclave. Not the finest moment for either of us, let's keep it at that."

"She's got any reason to rip your throat?" Lexa questions.

"Not that I'm aware of, but I think we're about to find out."

Echo points towards two women, standing at the other side of the road, about a hundred feet behind Clarke and Lexa. I follow their gaze as they look over their shoulders, feeling slightly embarrassed that I hadn't noticed them yet, while they're pretty much right in front of me.

They're observing us from the distance, seemingly at ease, which makes sense since by now our gathering looks more like a family picknick than a threat.

I force myself to look better. To actually look at her. That's when our eyes meet. Even though this isn't my first inexplicable rendez-vous today, and I already learned she'd be around, my heart still skips a beat.

Surreal. It's just... surreal.

Echo's voice right next to me makes me break my stare.

"They followed you?"

Clarke faces her, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Wouldn't be the first time."

She turns a second time, waves at them and calls them over, before quickly glancing at us again with a sudden, more serious look in her eyes. "One more thing: Luna is Magna now. And Lexa goes by Alicia these days. If you wanna avoid any trouble, go along with it."

Before I can even response, Luna—or whatever her new name is—and her friend join our little group.

"You guys okay?" the unknown woman asks.

Clarke nods. "Yeah, we're fine. These are Raven and Echo. They're friends of mine from back home. Raven, Echo, these are Magna and Yumiko. Also friends, but from around here."

The almost official way of introducing us tells me this Yumiko, probably together with everyone else, doesn't know about Luna's shared history with them, let alone with us.

When we all stand up, I do as I feel is expected: I play along. I shake hands and share polite smiles, while doing my very best not to show any recognition, curiosity and excitement. I'm feeling it though, with my pulse still racing and a huge smile trying to sneak onto my face. Standing eye to eye with my dear friend feels like a spacewalk!

"You followed us again?" Lexa asks them.

"Don't flatter yourself," Luna grins. "It wasn't till Miko needed her bow back that we noticed you were gone. That's why we started looking. For the bow, that is. But hey, it's always fun to find out how you're getting yourself in trouble again. Couldn't know you were having a little reunion here. What's going on?"

"They're here for me. I need to come home with them," Clarke tells her. "Won't be till tomorrow morning though. The sun is about to set. I'll ask Cyndie if they can stay for the night."

Yumiko squints her eyes. "Two more after the five of us?"

"It's just for one night," Clarke waves the issue away. "Besides, Cyndie seems to be walking on sunshine these last couple of days. I bet she can't even remember how to say no."

Easily convinced, Yumiko gives her a nod. "Alright, let's go then!"

Without further questions Echo and I quickly get our stuff from the car and follow the others into the woods. Wherever we're going, we do need a place to crash.

It doesn't take long before Echo and Yumiko are deeply engaged in some conversation about archery, with Echo gushing over Yumiko's bow. Clarke and Lexa are walking in front of them, leading the way, while I stay a bit behind, my leg not working with me the way I want to when we have to climb over some fallen trees.

"Hey there, stranger," Luna cheers in a soft, but exciting voice, as she suddenly pops up next to me. "Need a hand?"

She offers me her hand for support, which I gratefully accept. As soon as I'm over the barrier, I let go and show her a bright smile instead. "Thank you," I grin. Then, after a swift glance to the others, estimating the hearing distance, "I can't believe you're here!"

"Honestly? Me neither. Don't even ask me about it, cause I'm afraid I can't give you any answers," she sighs. I look at her as we keep following the others. Searching for... what exactly? Proof that it's her, or proof that it isn't?

"It's really you though, isn't it? Not some distant descendant?" I ask her at last.

"It's really me," Luna laughs. "But also really someone else."

"Magna," I state, showing her I actually paid some attention.

"Exactly," she grins. "So how about you? Is it really you?"

To my own surprise, I laugh full-heartedly. "Why wouldn't it be me?"

"I don't know. People change. Especially when life gets rough. Clarke told me some things. About Praimfaya destroying the world as predicted, and what happened after."

"She told you about me?"

Luna shakes her head. "Not a thing."

I wonder what she did tell her. I bet there are quite some different versions of the same story, depending on the narrator.

"Well, whatever she shared with you, she's been right about life not being easy on us. But yes, I do believe I'm still me. Despite the horrors. Or the fact that my brain got an actual upgrade - as you partly witnessed. But all of that only affected my head. In the end it's still the same heart I'm listening to."

"And such a heart you have," she smiles, and I don't feel any need to fight her on that.

Besides, we just reach a small beach that seems to be our destination. Clarke and Lexa both turn around. "You guys wait here. I go and try to get you in," Clarke says.

"You can go with her," Luna tells Lexa, "We'll stay here with them."

As the two of them wander towards what looks like a gate to some kind of camp or settlement, leaving us on this strip of sand, Yumiko turns towards Luna.

"Mind if we split for a bit? We wanna shoot some arrows over there, switch bows and all."

The moment Luna returns her smile, I spot a twinkle in her eyes I've never seen before. That's when I can finally pinpoint the difference I noticed, but couldn't define yet: the old Luna wasn't happy. This Luna is.

Unaware of my little epiphany, she still has her eyes on Yumiko. She grins from ear to ear. "As long as that's all you're switching..."

A wink. A laugh. A kiss.

There you have it. The source of said happiness. Go Luna!

We sit down next to each other in the sand and watch Yumiko and Echo exchange their gear, before giving each other instructions and making some shots about thirty feet away from us.

"So you found someone?" I break our surprisingly peaceful silence, nudging her shoulder with mine. I turn my head to look at her, witnessing the almost endearing smile on her face as she looks from her girl to me, then back to her girl.

"I'm afraid I did," she nods, a small chuckle falling from her lips. "Would've waited for you of course, had I known we'd meet again. Too late now. My heart is sold."

I snort and shake my head.

"Idiot," I hiccup, more sheepishly than intended. As I feel my cheeks turn red, I can only hope she thinks it's from laughing. She might be kidding, but they say there's a grain of truth in every joke, which in this case I think I can actually understand, maybe even relate to. Super brain or not, till this very day I've never been able to define that instant, almost spiritual connection between us.

"How 'bout you?" she pulls me out of my thoughts, "Anyone special?"

Just thinking of my man makes me beam. "I'd say so, yeah. His name is Shaw. He's a real good guy. From space... but even you would like him!"

She tilts her head. "Does he make you happy?"

It's the easiest question ever. "Yes," I nod with conviction, "he does."

"Good," she smiles, "Then I don't care where you found him."

We stay quiet for a bit, our eyes now on the horizon in front of us, with its pink and orange glow. I never hated space as much as the people around me did, but so far both planets I set foot on turned out to be even more magical.

A blissful sigh escapes my lips. "Seems like everything worked out, huh?"

"Sure does," she nods, smirking.

I shift in the sand, turning towards her.

"I'm really glad that it did. And that I got the chance to find out, before leaving again tomorrow. About you, I mean, and the fact that you're okay."

She doesn't say anything. She just watches me with a patient smile on her lips. Like she knows I'm not done yet.

"I never got the chance to tell you this, but I want you to know you meant a great deal to me," I go on. "And you still do."

"Ditto," she answers with a single nod, but that same calm smile. "It's too bad we're already parting again."

"It is. But to be honest, I don't think this is our final goodbye. See, I still have to give myself to the miracle of the sea, as I'm once told." I lower my head, just a little bit, making sure to keep our eyes connected. "So I'd say, if we ever find ourselves on yet another planet, which I'm sure we do, let's meet again. After all..." I wink, "they do say three times is a charm!"

And with that the score on making each other blush is equal again.

... ...

Chapter Text

I did not think this through.

When the question was raised whether to join Clarke or not, the only thing I asked myself was: am I ready to face those people again? To be me again? The short answer was no. I was not.

Yet unlike before I knew it didn't matter. It didn't matter what I wanted, or needed. Because this wasn't about me any longer. It was about her. I would go for her. To support her with the calamity she was about to face. Ready or not. Because I meant it. I meant it when I told her I'd die for her. It's the truth. I do anything for her. Even facing my own past. My own demons.

It's easy as that.

What I didn't realize though, was that joining her to see Madi meant going into freaking space!

Now I have been in airplanes a few times, before the world went down. When I was still a toddler and Mom and Dad, who was still with us then, took me and Nick to Spain for a holiday. And years later, when Travis took all of us to meet his family in New Zealand. But this is no airplane. I don't even know what to call this. A UFO, maybe? Regardless the name, by the looks of its giant engines alone it tells me it's something that doesn't just... take off. It's going to launch us.

The thought alone makes me squeeze the edge of my seat, bracing myself for whatever comes next.

"Just relax, baby," Clarke tries to calm me down from the seat right next to mine. "Raven and Shaw are the best, they know what they're doing."

I glance through the screen that separates us from the pilot cabin. They are preparing themselves for our flight—as I decide to call it to make it sound as normal as possible—and seem quite at ease.

Turning my head, I look at Clarke.

"You do know this is anything but normal for literally anyone who isn't Skaikru, right?"

"I know," she smiles patiently, "We took some guests before, remember? You should have seen Indra on her first launch. Pale as moonlight!"

An instant, soft chuckle escapes me. It's hard to imagine Indra scared, but I really can't blame her, considering the jumbled ball of nerves in my own belly right now.

Clarke takes my hand. "Think of your song. It's happening, you're going to live it. You're going to sail across the sun. All the way to the Milky Way..."

"... to see the lights all fade," I mumble along with her. Now I'm the one who's smiling. "You learned the lyrics? How?!"

"I asked Al," she shrugs nonchalantly, "I guessed she'd probably knew it as well. She did, though she wasn't a fan like you."

"That's because she had to listen to me singing it for years when we were making miles," I confess with a slight not-even-sorry grin.

"Yep, she mentioned that, too. I think she was just joking though, she didn't really seemed to have mind."

"Probably not, no. We're always bantering, I guess it's kind of our thing. But we're never serious. It's just our way of... killing time." Thinking back of our years on the road, I stare at my hand inside of Clarke's. "... I think."

Clarke gives me a soft, playful squeeze. "You think? Did I miss anything?"

Suddenly a little uncomfortable I shift in my seat. It's not even because of her, she mostly just sounds curious. Entertained even.

"I don't know," I murmur. Is it hot in here? "Forget about it. It's stupid... and embarrassing."

"Stupid and embarrassing sound like the perfect ingredients to get your mind off all this for a second," she winks, gesturing at all the high-tech around us. And though I wish she was wrong, I know she probably isn't.

A bit uneasy I clear my throat. "I just... I sometimes felt there was this... this chemistry between us. Or I thought so, I was never sure. And I didn't know how to feel about that. It confused me, obviously, because of, you know... the girl-thing. And maybe even more because although it unsettled me, I actually kind of liked it." I glare at her from the corner of my eye, looking for some sign of understanding. I find it in her nod.

"You'd never been with a girl?" she asks with a soft smile.

I shake my head. "No. Well, at least not that I remembered!" Our eyes meet and—unable to stop ourselves—we both giggle at the same time. At moments like this it still strikes me how absurd this whole situation is. "I was hardly twenty when we met. Hormones raging, but till then only when it was about boys. I never even thought about girls. Like I said, the whole thing was confusing as hell. So I went for the easy way."

She raises her eyebrows, creasing her forehead in expectation.

"Full blown denial," I shrug.

She snorts, though with compassion, so I don't mind.

"You think it was another dot?" she asks, "The girl-thing, I mean."

My eyes drift off. "I don't know. Maybe."

We stay quiet for a few moments, my hand still in hers, before I abruptly turn towards her again.

"Nothing ever happened. I'm not even sure if there ever was anything to happen. I could've been wrong the entire time. Still can be. Might as well been all in my head. But whatever the hell I thought I was feeling, it's all gone. As soon as I saw you I—"

"Lexa!" Clarke stops my rambling, "Calm down, it's okay. You had a life - between ours and this one. And you lived it. I'm glad! I'm glad you found people you care about, and who care about you." She lets go of my hand and lifts hers to my cheek, gently caressing it. "And I'm not worried for a second that you might be thinking about anyone else. I know I'm yours. It's in your eyes, every time I look into them."

I gasp, unaware till now that I was holding my breath. "I... I just want you to know that I wasn't confused. When I saw you again, I mean. Not for a second. People always talk about not mixing up facts and feelings, but when it's about you, about my feelings for you, it is a fact. There's no question. No counter-hypothesis. You are my other half."

She leans in. "And you are my other half," she sighs against my lips before kissing them, "The most cheesy, dorky other half I could wish for!"

"Shut up!" I grumble, already searching for her lips.

Tick tick.

"Buckle up, lovebirds!" Raven draws our attention, tapping the window. "We're off in a few minutes. Be ready!"

She turns to her pilot seat next to Shaw without waiting for our reaction - mine being subconsciously gasping for air, now that I'm reminded where we are and what we're about to do. So far for the distraction.

I watch Clarke closing the buckle in her lap. A seat belt? We're getting launched into space with just a seat belt to keep us in place?! Clarke's clear laughter makes me look up at her again.

"Don't worry," she snickers, "this is just the first one."

She pulls down a firm shoulder harness till it clicks, seemingly keeping her tight at her spot. If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say she's about to take a ride at the carnival.

"Just like a rollercoaster, right?" I murmur as I follow her example.

Clarke tries to look at me, which isn't that easy anymore now that she's all locked in. "I wouldn't know, actually. I've never been in one. Only know them from Earth class. Aren't they going upside down?"

"Sometimes, yeah," I nod, while double checking the harness by trying to get out, which I can't.

"See, then this should be a walk in the park for you," she laughs. "No loopings on this ride. Nonetheless, if it helps you can still hold my hand. Although you might feel more secure holding on to the rail."

Right then the engines start to blast - sounding even louder than before, now that I'm actually inside this monstertruck from space. Shaw raises his hand, indicating we're about to take off, and Raven starts to count down over the speaker.

My hand lets go of the rail before she gets to zero, finding Clarke's without giving it a second thought. Nothing in this whole wide world, including space, can make me feel more secure than she does.

... ...

"Okay, I think I'm officially done with rollercoasters. For like... forever," I gasp the moment the loud engine switches off. "Next time when you plan a trip, just take me to the zoo, or something!"

"Right, cause the last time was such a success," Clarke giggles. Unlike me she sounds completely normal.

I frown. "When did we ever go to the zoo?!"

She leans forward to look at me. "Don't tell me you forgot about Pauna!?"

"Oh right," I chuckle, "Wait, you're telling me that wasn't the perfect first date for you? Huh, I guess we need a do-over then."

Her laughing gets interrupted by the hissing sound of the shoulder harnesses moving upwards again, freeing us from their tight grip. I unclasp the buckle around my waist.

"Well, that's disappointing," I mumble.

Clarke turns in her seat to face me. She looks puzzled. "What is?"

"I'm not... going anywhere. We're in space. Aren't we supposed to float around?"

I can tell she tries to suppress another laugh, but she fails. "Sorry, I'm afraid we managed to have gravity up here. If you wanna experience Zero-G, you have to step out. Which I wouldn't recommend."

"Are you kidding me?" Raven cries out as she just steps into the passengers cabin, "There's absolutely no feeling compared to getting out there!" She looks over her shoulder at Shaw, who's right behind her. "Well, except being with you."

We get up and follow them towards the exit, which looks like a heavy, steel door. Raven pulls a lever, opening it with another hiss. There's a woman waiting for us on the other side. Her lips curve as soon as she sees us. Or Clarke, to be more specific.

"Hello, old friend," she smiles. Her voice is calm, and a little husky.

"Niylah," Clarke greets her with a mirrored smile, one you save for old friends indeed. She speeds towards her for a warm embrace. "It's so good to see you again!" When she lets go, she steps aside and turns around, facing me again.

"Niylah, this is—"

"Heda," Niylah sighs in awe. Before I can stop her, she already kneels down, her eyes on the floor between us. "It's an honor."

She's pretty. Not that I had any reason to assume she wouldn't be, but for some reason I hadn't pictured her like this. It doesn't matter to me though. Quite to my own surprise, I don't feel any jealousy, or discomfort. At least not about the fact that she has shared the sheets with my girl.

"Please get up," I quietly tell her, "I'm not your Commander anymore."

She stands up without hesitation, but when her eyes meet mine, I can still catch a hint of veneration and subservience.

"I.. I can not believe you're here. Even though Raven informed us, even though I'm seeing you with my own eyes, I..." She lowers her lashes again.

I take a step closer to her and rest my hand upon her upper arm, somehow hoping to... I don't know... break the spell, I guess.

"It's alright. It's confusing for me, too. But I mean it, I'm not someone to look up to, to follow or to serve. I'm just..." I fall quiet mid-sentence, as it hits me: I actually have no clue who I am anymore. I swallow. "I'm just Lexa."

Niylah looks up again. "Of course, if that's what you want. But, please, let me take this opportunity, just this one time, for all those times that you were my leader, that you gave yourself for all people of Trikru, and for peace... let me say thank you for that."

I accept her praise with one single nod, realizing she's not the only one feeling gratitude. I can feel my expression soften, with the smallest smile creeping on my face. I lean in just a little.

"Thank you. For being there for Clarke, when I... couldn't."

Now she's the one to nod - an unspoken, shared feeling of respect and understanding between us, before taking a step back and looking at Clarke again.

"Let me take you to Madi. She's waiting for you."

We both follow her through a corridor which already tells me how big this place must be. We stop in front of a door that reads 'Clinic'.

"Why is she still in here?" Clarke asks, her voice suddenly filled with worry. "Raven said she was doing fine."

"She was," Niylah nods. "She recovered. But then the fevers came back. Maybe because of the infected blood, we don't know."

"She's still her though, is she?" Clarke goes on, her lip now trembling. "S-She..."

I take a step closer and wrap my arm around her. "She didn't turn, did she?"

Niylah shakes her head. "No. No, she didn't. But she's afraid she might. So she asked us to chain her."

Clarke's head shoots up. "You chained her?!"

"Only because she made us," Niylah quietly admits, before she looks at me with apologies in her eyes. "She's our Heda now."

"I know," I nod, "And I know about the power that comes with that. The Flame can be very convincing. And it can also protect you from a lot of things - maybe even from this. But it doesn't protect you from fear. She may be your Commander now, but she's also just a kid."

I pull Clarke a little closer against me, before I step forward, to the door.

"She doesn't need chains," I go on, not waiting any longer to open it, "She needs her mother."

... ...

Chapter Text

The moment the door is opened before me, revealing what's behind it, I step inside. There she is, lying on the examination table, with her eyes closed and her wrists and ankles strapped down.

My Madi.

I sprint toward her and start pulling the chains with a force from within I never experienced before. Rage and despair take over, making me blind for anything else around me. All I see is Madi, looking so small and innocent, yet shackled like an animal. She blinks, slowly opening her eyes, until her gaze meets mine.

"Clarke, no, d-don't," she murmurs, her voice fragile at first, but quickly gaining strength. "Leave them on."

"There's no way in hell!" I mutter. My eyes are already back on the chains, as I keep fervidly twisting and pulling them without any success.

"Stop!" she tries again, "Please! I'm a hazard."

I shake my head, my teeth deeply sunken in my lips. "You're not, you hear me? You're not like any of them. I won't accept that. I'm not—"

"Clarke, you're hurting me!"

That's when my hands freeze.

I stare at them. What am I doing? These chains are made of steel! Slowly exhaling, I release the air I was holding, then finally look at her again. My hand cups her cheek, gentle now, my thumb brushing her clammy skin.

"I'm sorry," I pant, slightly out of breath.

Madi averts her eyes. "I'm sorry, too."

"For what?" I frown.

"For getting in trouble," she mumbles, drawing another shaky sigh from me.

"Oh, honey..."

"You warned me about them," she concedes, her gaze still stuck on her feet. "And I'd seen them, too. Growling and grasping and savaging, coming toward us with their jaws already open. But these ones, they were different."

"How?"

"They were... calm, I guess. They were just standing there. Their heads bowed, almost dangling. Their bodies slumped, with their arms just hanging there. They didn't seem dangerous, they were more like... like sleepwalkers."

I grimace at the comparison, quietly moaning, "Yeah, hungry sleepwalkers."

"I thought we could pass them," she goes on. When her eyes finally find mine again, I can feel her jaw clench underneath my touch. "I misjudged. I brought our people in danger by underestimating the enemy, and when Murphy got attacked—"

"Wait, Murphy got attacked? I thought you did?"

She shakes her head, slowly and with some effort, telling me she feels much weaker than she wants me to believe. "No, it was Murphy. He got pushed over and jumped on. I just came in between."

"You just—" I gasp, my eyes widening in astonishment. "Madi, you can't just... What were you thinking?!"

"I wasn't. I was doing. Doing what needed to be done. A Commander doesn't stand and watch. A Commander fights."

I turn around, my eyes finding Lexa's right away. "That freaking Flame," I grumble between my teeth, "I swear to God—"

"Shhh," she hushes me, "Not now, Clarke. She won't hear you. Here, unchain her."

She hands me a small key that Niylah must have given to her. I take a deep breath, swallow and turn toward Madi again.

"Don't fight me on this," I tell her in a stern voice, and this time she doesn't. As soon as her wrists are freed, she sits up and embraces me.

"Please don't be mad," she breathes into my hair.

I pull her in even closer.

"I'm not mad," I sigh. "I'm just worried. I'm so damn worried, Madi. I-I can't lose you, okay? I can't stop you from being the Commander, but that thing—"

I fall quiet when I feel the light touch of Lexa's hand on my shoulder. I swallow again, then finish my sentence by pressing a kiss on Madi's cheekbone. I let go of her, a little reluctant, and force myself to smile.

"There's someone I like you to meet."

As I take a small step aside, Madi's eyes find Lexa, who just now appears in her field of vision. They widen, an expression of awe transforming her face. Opening her mouth, she lets out a breathless gasp.

"Lexa?"

"Hi Madi," Lexa softly smiles at her, taking my place right next to the table.

Madi keeps staring at her, searching for words. "Y-You've got to tell me," she stammers at last. Stretching her hand she lets her fingertips slide across Lexa's face, like a blind person trying to catch someone's features. "Tell me!"

Except for my charcoal drawings, Madi has never seen Lexa. I know she's heard her though. For Madi, the sound of Lexa's voice is the ultimate prove. And Lexa knows it, too.

"It's me, Madi. It's really me. I'm not in your head anymore," she says, her smile now growing into a goofy, lopsided grin. "At least I hope not. Wouldn't want you to listen to me in stereo!"

A weak but merry laugh bursts from Madi's lips. "Don't worry, you're not. To be honest, it's been days, weeks even, since I heard any of the Commander's voices. I could be wrong, but ever since we got here I feel like they're starting to fade away somehow."

"Well, I'm glad," Lexa smiles again as she helps Madi adjust the table, so she can sit up against her pillow. "I know how annoying they can get."

"All but one," Madi smirks, swiftly glancing at me for a second. I chuckle and shake my head, but her focus is already back on Lexa, who rests her hand on Madi's knee. Her smile has vanished, but her voice is still soft and warm.

"How are you doing, ai strik heda? Are you in any pain?"

Madi shakes her head again and lifts her arm a bit, showing us the bandage that's hiding the bite. "Abby cleaned the wound and gave me some painkillers. I'm just feeling sleepy. Like that time I had the flu." She looks at me, then back at Lexa, then suddenly turns her face away from the both of us, staring at her feet again. "I'm scared, though."

Lexa moves her hand, taking Madi's into her own. Remarkably, Madi doesn't retract. Even though she has grown more affectionate over the years, she always stayed somewhat reserved—vigilant even—when it comes to strangers. Yet Lexa's touch doesn't seem to disturb her. On the contrary, it seems to calm her down.

Their eyes meet again.

"You think you're not allowed to be scared?" Lexa quietly asks her. "Because you're the Commander?"

Madi blinks. "Were you ever?"

"All the time!" Lexa exclaims, throwing her head back dramatically.

"But you're a warrior?! You fought guys twice your size!"

The corner of Lexa's lips twists into that well-known, subtle smile of hers.

"Oh, I wasn't scared of them. I was scared of the responsibility. Of failing my people. Of losing the people I cared about, and with that of caring at all. Feelings are scary. They make you vulnerable." She looks at me, her smile still lingering on her face, warming my heart as it always does. "But they also tell you there are things worth fighting for."

Facing Madi again, she leans in to continue in a more secretive tone, "Also, I had to run for a giant gorilla once. Don't tell anyone, but I came this close to shitting my pants right there!"

Despite my worries a smile sneaks on my face. Watching how Lexa makes Madi laugh, how she makes her feel better with such ease, it leaves me speechless. Lexa, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what to say.

"It's okay to be a little scared sometimes," she goes on, softly squeezing Madi's hand, "For others, or for yourself. But you know what? I don't think you need to be this time. I think you'll be okay."

"What makes you so sure?" I finally speak up. "When Raven told you about the recovery—"

"I guess I needed to see it with my own eyes," she cuts me off. She takes my hand into her free one, connecting us all, then turns to Madi again. "You know I've been around here for a while, right? That I'm... not just Lexa. I was born here before the world as I knew it went down. I've seen it happen. I've seen people getting sick, before they turned. You don't look like them. You're ill, and you need help, but Clarke is right: you are not one of them."

"So what am I?" Madi asks.

Lexa raises her shoulders. "A miracle?"

I let go of Lexa's hand and take a seat right behind her on the table, my arms wrapped around her and my chin lightly resting on her shoulder. "That we already knew," I can't help but smile.

"And what are they?" Madi goes on, eager for anything that Lexa can tell her.

"Who knows," Lexa shrugs again, "They go with many different names. We used to call them Infected. I heard people call them Biters and Roamers as well. These days we mostly go with Walkers."

"And they are dead? You're sure about that?"

Lexa stays quiet for a second, as if she needs to give it some thought. Which surprises me, since I thought this was pretty clear.

"We have to believe that they are," she nods after all, "To be able to deal with them, to... get rid of them without any emotion. Cause the thought that there might still be someone in there, held hostage by whatever is taking over..." She lets her voice drift off before speaking up again. "I mean, yeah, they are most probably dead."

"You're saying there's no scientific proof?" I ask, cocking my head so I can see her.

"Not that I know of," she answers, spinning slightly toward me. "But it's a big world. With way more people around than on our former planet. At least before the infection hit. So far I've never heard anything about research though, let alone about a cure."

Madi coughs and shifts in her seat, drawing our attention again.

"Abby started to look into it," she says, "She wants to know what we're dealing with. Her hypothesis was either a virus or a bacterium. But then she cut Brell's brain out and put it under a microscope, and after that she didn't know what to think anymore."

I raise my brows. "What did she see?"

"I don't know exactly, she didn't show me. She just told me it looked like something was starting to grow, from inside the brain."

"Like a fungus?" Lexa questions.

Madi looks pensive. "No, I don't think so. It sounded more like some kind of roots. Clarke, do you remember when we cut off those branches and put them in jars with water, back home in Shallow Valley? To grow more plants? After a week or so we could see all those thin, white threads. Abby's description reminded me of that, although the outgrowth sounded way shorter."

"Might look different on someone who turned ages ago," Lexa remarks.

"That's what Abby thinks, and why she wants to find one of those. Which shouldn't be too hard," Madi nods. "I know it's not on top of her list though. That spot is clearly for me."

"As it should be," I tell her while standing up. We've waited long enough, and although I can tell how seeing us is giving her a boost for this moment, it's also very clear to me that she's becoming more pale every minute.

I turn around to look at Niylah, who's been waiting patiently by the door since we got here. Some might think it's because she's taking care of Madi. Some might think it's because she's my friend. But I know that, despite her promise, she's there waiting for instructions, maybe even orders, from Lexa.

"Can you get Abby and Jackson, please?" I ask her, "We're ready for the blood transfusion."

Niylah just nods and leaves us alone without further questions. Madi's voice behind me makes me quickly turn back.

"Will this give us any answers?" she questions out loud. "About me, and why I'm... different?"

I put my hand on her hair, stroking it gently. "I don't know, honey. And right now, I honestly don't care. I just want you to get better."

Lexa gets off the table as well, but instead of staying with us she starts pacing around the room. Her mind seems elsewhere.

"Everything okay?" I warily check, suddenly afraid she changed her mind about Madi's condition.

She comes to a stop, but doesn't look up, as she's still distracted by whatever is going on in her head.

"Y-Yeah," she murmurs. "I'm just thinking about the science. Not the pathology part Abby is doing, and who knows who else is, but..."

Her gaze moves to Madi.

"If the answer is with you, if the Flame does have anything to do with you, and the fact that you are the exception, then we're talking science beyond their knowledge. Abby can try all she wants, but she won't be able to crack those codes. Raven might understand some of it, but only if someone helps explaining it to her first. Someone who actually—"

"—designed it," Madi nods, comprehending.

I look from one to the other. "Am I wrong or are we suddenly talking about Becca?"

Lexa starts moving again, stepping closer to me and taking me by my shoulders. "Don't you see? Becca might be the answer to this whole thing!"

"That would be a first," I groan. "Also, she died, remember?"

"I do," Lexa nods, her eyes piercing into mine, and her fingers clenching around my shoulders, "But she didn't just die. She died a Nightblood."

I narrow my eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying she might be out there. I'm saying that if the transfusion works, if either the Flame or the blood really seem to make a difference, then Becca might be the key. And we should try to find her."

... ...

Chapter Text

I'm insane.

That's the last thing she said to me, right before Abby and Jackson walked in to start the blood transfusion. After they told us Clarke's procedure would take at least an hour, she sent me away to get some rest - ignoring my heavy objections, and putting our conversation on hold.

I wasn't in for a nap though. Which is why I started wandering around, getting a bit more familiar with this strange new surrounding. Why I'm strolling down one of the many corridors as we speak, letting my fingers glide over the cool steel that forms the walls.

It surprises me how every hallway, every room, every corner looks this futuristic, despite being age-old. Yet ancient or not, the gigantic space station does match the imagination of someone who grew up with astronaut stories and sci-fi movies. Nevertheless, walking around here feels extremely surreal, and I try to imagine how I would have experienced this trip if I still had been just Lexa. I can't, and I give up trying when I happen to find a bathroom with an actual shower, which is screaming my name.

The hot, running water makes me forget about my tired bones, and even my need to be alert all the time, but fails to rinse off Clarke's words. Is she right?

Not much later I return to the clinic, cleaner than I ever thought possible and feeling close to reborn - once again. They're still busy with Madi, but Jackson tells me Clarke is ready and I can see her. He points me to the recovery room three doors down.

After a soft knock, I open the only barrier that separates us—besides some ideas about our future, apparently—and step inside the dimly lit room. I close the door behind me. Clarke is alone, awake, and by the looks of it, though somewhat pale, unscathed.

"Hey gorgeous," I smile, swiftly walking up to her. Without giving it a second thought I climb onto her bed and lay down next to her, nestling my head in the crook of her neck.

"Mmm," she hums, "You smell good."

The memory alone is enough to make me beam from ear to ear. "I had a shower. A bubbly, steaming shower. The first one I had in... I can't even remember."

She buries her nose in my hair, which is still damp, and presses a soft kiss on top of it. "The first one you had in space," she murmurs.

"That too," I chortle, "Though that basically counts for pretty much everything up here." Brushing my thumb over the band-aid on her arm, I tilt my head and look up at her, no longer laughing. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been worse," she answers, her bright eyes locking with mine, "They sure got my head spinning though."

I show her a compassionate smile. "I can bring you cookies?"

"I don't want cookies," she says with a soft but determined voice, while her hand slowly moves up, her fingernails faintly scratching the bare skin of my arm.

I narrow my eyes, questioning.

"Then what do you want?"

As her hand finds the back of my neck, one corner of her mouth quirks up.

"You," she simply states. She leans in, about to connect our lips, but I manage to pull back.

"What are you doing? You just donated a gallon of blood!"

"So?" Clarke shrugs with a teasing smug on her face, not to mention a pretty irresistible sparkle in her eyes.

"So?!" I echo bewildered, "I bet you can't even walk!"

She wiggles her brows. "I'm not planning to walk. I just want to make your head spin a little, too." Shuffling down on the bed, she's suddenly eye to eye with me; our foreheads almost touching and her warm breath hitting mine. Her voice drops a notch. "You look so hot when you're wet."

She lets her lips graze against mine, softly and excruciatingly slow. They're trembling. Or is that me?

"Clarke," I mutter, my voice nothing more than a whimper, and betraying me big time. I'm so gonna lose this.

"I just want to be close to you," she breathes, "We're hardly ever alone. I won't go crazy, I promise."

She seeks for my lips again, but I turn my head, avoiding her kiss. "S-Stop," I stammer with my last willpower, "Someone could walk in!"

Gently cradling my jaw, she makes me look at her again. "I'll be quick, I swea—"

I cut her off by capturing her lips in a searing kiss, wet and hungry, and probably stupid. But I don't care. Not anymore. She wants to take my breath away? To steal the last air out of my lungs, and the body that comes with it? It's fine. It's all hers. I'm all hers.

As long as it's right now.

With our lips crashing and our tongues twirled around each other, I brusquely grab her hand that's now tangled in my hair and direct it down to the waistband of my jeans. A short giggle escapes our lips as we both fumble impatiently with the button to get it open, but we're done laughing as soon as her hand slips into my panties - making me gasp as it grazes over my most sensitive spot.

Using my arousal, her slippery fingers slowly slide up and down, before they start to rub me in a rhythmic, circular motion. I squirm against them, unable to stop myself. The sigh I let out is followed by a deep moan, and it doesn't take long before I feel the pressure building inside me.

With our faces this close to each other, all I can see are Clarke's darkened, lusty eyes. She draws her lips along my cheek, to my ear.

"Still want me to stop?" she pants, hot air caressing my neck and making me quiver.

"Don't—" I squeak with my last few breaths, "Don't you dare!"

She doesn't.

With her mouth already back on mine, she keeps stroking me until it all becomes too much. Until my toes curl, my body shakes and jolts, and bright colors appear behind my lids.

Until for a brief moment I'm no longer here.

My heart still races when I blink and slowly open my eyes. Clarke is looking at me, a sheepish grin dawning on her face.

"Hi," she quietly breaks our silence.

"Hi," I smile blissfully as I drown myself in the blue of her eyes - speechless by so much beauty.

She softly brushes a few strands of hair off my forehead. "What are you thinking?"

My smile grows wider. "I'm thinking I might need another shower," I chuckle, drawing a loud laugh from her.

"Baby, you can have all the showers in the world... as long as I can join you," she smirks.

I raise my hand to caress her face. "How about you? I mean, are you—"

"I'm fine," she says, still smiling. "I told you I wouldn't go crazy. I'll save that for the shower." She winks playfully, kisses the palm of my hand, then rolls over to lay on her back. I crawl closer and lay my head on her shoulder.

"Talking about crazy," I circle back to earlier today, "Do you... do you really think I am insane?"

Clarke takes my hand, our fingers mindlessly sliding together in a slow, feather-light dance.

"About Becca?" she asks. "No, I don't. I think you're right. I think she could be of great value. Maybe even save the world this time, instead of destroying it. But about trying to find her? Yeah, I'm sorry, but I believe that's nuts."

"So what if it is? What if we acknowledge it's nuts, and dive into that haystack anyway? Have you never searched for a needle?!"

"Sure I have," she sighs, "But those needles were still, in fact, needles. Who knows what became of Becca?"

I inhale deeply and hold my breath for a second. "I know. I know. It's the same as with Luna's brother. Just like him, she could be twelve, she could be a hundred. She could as well be dead! But we also found Aden—"

"We didn't find Aden," she corrects me, "Aden found you. He recognized you. Even if we would ran into Becca, she wouldn't know who we are."

"You don't believe either of us ever made that kind of an impression on her?" It's not a real question. I know the answer. I just don't like it.

Clarke throws her hand in the air, dragging mine along with it. "Neither of us ever met her!"

I prop up on my elbow and look down on her. "You did though. In the City of Lights."

She exhales, slowly, and rubs her eyes. "I'm sorry, Lex," she mumbles, seemingly struggling with whatever she's going to say. "I don't think that was her. I-I don't think that was real."

I blankly stare at her. "What do you mean?"

Breaking our gaze, she looks at our hands that are resting in her lap again, our fingers still entwined. "I don't know. I just... How could it have been? I was in Polis, fighting for my life."

"Physically!" I cry out, louder than I want to. "Your body was in Polis. Your consciousness—the actual you—was in the City. With me! Or... or don't you believe that either?"

She swallows. "I don't know," she says again, her voice thin and full of doubt. "How do I know?"

I push myself further up until I sit up straight. "Because I'm telling you! Because I know for sure I was there, by your side, and because we're sharing the same memories about it," I rant. "Clarke, look at me. It was real, okay. It has to be!"

Her eyes find mine again. "Why?"

"Because..." Suddenly overtaken by emotions, my throat closes up. I can feel tears well up in my eyes. Trying to blink them away, I take a deep breath. "Because that's where you told me you loved me."

To my relief, she doesn't tell me wrong. In fact she doesn't say anything at all. She just lightly squeezes my hand, encouraging me to go on. Which I do.

"And... And even though you pulled the switch like three minutes later, erasing everything, including my memory, those words meant the world to me. And I truly believe they stuck with me, even without me remembering them. I believe I took them with me into that void, and even into this new life. Buried deeply in my... my newborn soul."

I draw in another shaking breath, forcing myself to keep going. "These last few weeks I stopped believing in a lot of things that used to be my truth, learning half of it was just high-tech engineering. And you know what, I don't even care. But this, this I believe. This, I need to be real."

Clarke lifts her hand and gently wipes away the single tear that got through. "Okay," she nods, before craning upwards and lightly kissing me on the lips. "Okay."

I lay down again, resting my head on her chest, and she wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace. We stay like that for a little while. I would never have guessed a spaceship would offer such quietness and serenity. But it does, and I'm glad for it, even though in the end I'm also the one breaking it.

"I know you're right," I softly speak up. "I know it's impossible. And silly. It's just... for the very first time since my life, this life, shattered around me, since I lost literally everything and everyone, I feel like there actually might be a way out. A fix. And letting go of a chance like that, maybe the only one we ever get, without even trying... it's just frustrating."

She traces the line of the heart-shaped drawing on my arm. "I get that," she says, "I really do. But chasing a ghost, with the chance of finding her being close to zero, while the life we could actually have passes by in the meantime—"

"But that's the thing, it wouldn't be a life!" I blurt out. "How can it be? With danger around every corner, in every encounter? With death lurking everywhere; even in the arms of a loved one, who just might peacefully die in their sleep. The truth is, we're not so different from those walkers. We're not really living either. If anything, we're just surviving."

Her chest moves underneath me as she heaves a deep, heavy sigh. "It just always comes down to that, doesn't it?"

I look up at her through my lashes. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to convince you. Or bum you out. I guess I just hate that we have to go back to that hopeless place, where the only possible solution to make things better is an impossible one." I lower my head again, my cheek flat on her chest. She starts running her fingers through my hair. "I don't know, maybe we should just stay up here," I hum, drawing an unexpected snort from her.

"I think that hot steam went to your head a little!"

"I'm serious, I like it up here," I go on unabated, "It's peaceful. And safe. Why shouldn't we choose that? A life where we don't have to look over our shoulders all the time."

"You'd die from boredom within a month," she chuckles, "If the algea diet wouldn't kill you before that."

"You don't know that!" I abruptly sit up again and turn away from her, about to jump off the bed, yet she stops me by taking my arm.

"No, no, no! No more pacing around! Come here, listen to me," Clarke shushes.

I sigh and face her.

"You're right, I don't know everything about life down there. But I know what life up here would bring us, and it ain't happiness. It ain't anything, actually. Just a whole lot of nothing. And we deserve so much more than nothing."

I nod, knowing she's right - again.

"We're not giving up on this," she continues, gesturing at the medical equipment around her. "The Flame with all its coding might be too complicated, but we still got the blood. We still got something to work with. And we're not giving up on the world down there either. So far I've seen nothing we can't handle. And whoever, or whatever, is telling us we can't live there, well, we're just going to prove them wrong. You and me, and Madi. Together. Okay?"

She cocks her head, her eyes wide and gazing into mine, and the hint of her lopsided grin on her lips.

I shake my head and drop my shoulders. What else can I do other than mirror that smile?

"We're going to get healthy, and strong. And then we're going to build a life," she goes on. "A scary one, maybe, that comes with battles and dangers we don't even know about yet, but also a full one. With people who matter. With laughter, and love."

A heartfelt chuckle falls from my lips. "So much love," I nod.

"So much love!" she nods with me. "And we're gonna grow old and grey, you and me. And then, when that night comes, and we're ready to leave it all behind, we'll do it together, too. Cause I'm telling you this: no matter where we are, how dangerous it gets and what might happen, I will always—always!—sleep in your arms."

... ...

Chapter Text

"Clarke, I feel fine! Really!" I tell her for what feels like the hundredth time.

She leans in closer, her face now only an inch away from mine.

"I don't know," she murmurs as she looks deep into my eyes, "Maybe we should run one more test."

It's Abby who comes to my rescue. Taking Clarke by the shoulders, she gently pulls her backwards. "Honey, it's been two days. Two days without any fevers, or any other signs. She eats, sleeps, talks and walks just like before. She really is okay."

Clarke exhales, gives me one last once-over, then turns around to face the others; her mother, Jackson, Raven and Lexa.

Lexa.

I still can't believe she's really here. It all feels so surreal, yet at the same time so weirdly natural.

"So it works?" Clarke goes on, preventing my thoughts from drifting off any further. "We can use nightblood as a cure?"

"Not exactly," Abby answers, shaking her head. "I mean, yes, it seems to have cured Madi, but we also used some of your blood on Crockett, before waking him up. Let's just say that didn't go well."

"He woke up dead?" Clarke asks.

"If that's what we call it, then yes," Abby nods, "It was like the Brell-situation all over again."

"That's because he wasn't a Nightblood to begin with," I speak up, making them all look at me. "That's the difference between him and me, right? To him, the blood wasn't more than some kind of injected cough syrup."

With a pensive look on her face, Abby slowly nods again. "That would be my theory. I reckon the result might have been different if we'd turned him into an actual Nightblood before the transfusion."

"It still wouldn't have been the same though," Raven ponders, "Madi was not only a Nightblood before the transfusion, she was a Nightblood before she got bitten. And we know that made a difference already. She never got ill like the others in the first place. So there's no way in telling that making him a Nightblood after the bite would have saved him, with or without the transfusion."

"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Abby proposes, as she looks from one to the other. Her voice is steady, but there's something in her eyes that tells me she's highly aware that her proposition might cross some lines.

Clarke takes a step toward her, frowning. "This isn't Mount Weather, Mom."

"Or Becca's lab!" Raven adds, "Abby, I thought we were past this?!"

"No, no, we are," Abby quickly tries to clarify herself, "I'm not talking about harming anyone. It's just... we do have three more people in cryo. Three people with bites, who I believe have nothing more to lose. In a way, it's even giving them a chance."

Raven throws her head back, laughing scornfully. "You're saying that now. But what if it doesn't work, because of the post-bite factor? You wanna pick someone healthy? Deliberately send a fresh Nightblood into the arms—sorry: teeth!—of a whatsitcalled?"

"Walker," Lexa mumbles, which makes Raven roll her eyes, and me instantly curious about their history. Apparently I'm the only one though.

"Raven, I-I don't know, okay?" Abby sighs. "I hope we never even have to think about that. I hope the next one we wake up doesn't end up with a knife in their brain, I honestly do. But I do want to find out at least that, and I hope you guys are with me, because I do need all of you for this."

Her eyes wander from Clarke to me to Jackson and Lexa, until they linger on Raven again.

For a moment they keep staring at each other, in complete silence. Then Raven drops her shoulders. Her deep exhale sounds like a surrender. "Guess you want me to take another spacewalk? To create the serum?"

Abby offers her a grateful smile, relieved that they seem to be on the same page again. "I would, but I'm afraid there's nothing to work with anymore. We no longer have the chemicals we need for it. Which means we can't create it ourselves."

"We could use bone marrow," Jackson suggests, "Now that Madi seems healthy again—"

"No!" Clarke cries out before he can finish, startling everyone, "No way!"

I sit up straight and dangle my legs down the bed. "Clarke, it's okay, I don't mind."

"But I do!" she goes on, her eyes wide and her voice still raised. "We're not experimenting on you, or using you in any other way. You hear me? I don't want to see another needle near your body!" She turns to Abby again. "Use mine instead."

Jackson coughs in his fist, somewhat uncomfortable. "You're no original Nightblood. Don't you think—"

"I don't care," she brusquely cuts him off again, her eyes still on Abby. "It's either this, or nothing at all."

Abby knows her daughter well enough. Taking a deep breath she nods, bobbing her head toward the door. "Alright then, let's go."

While Jackson and Raven already follow Abby into the hallway, Clarke turns to Lexa, who steps toward her instead and rests her hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," she smiles before Clarke's words are out, "I'll stay with Madi. She's in good hands, just like you."

Their moment is brief, as Clarke is being waited on, but to me it's long enough - long enough to know that I made the right decision before. I might be young, and I'm definitely inexperienced when it comes to matters of the heart, but I'm sure that belonging together looks like this.

After Clarke closes the door behind her, Lexa looks at me again. "Some peace at last," she winks.

I jiggle my foot. "You know it should've been me, right? It's my people in those cryo-chambers, and my job to... step up."

"She means well," Lexa shushes me with a tender smile.

"I know," I grumble, sighing, "but will she ever stop treating me like a kid?"

Lexa shakes her head. "Nope," she chuckles, the playful grin on her lips growing wider, "She's not supposed to. Worrying is in a mother's job description."

"Your mom is the same?"

"She sure was... just not about me."

Her smile vanishes - briefly, but long enough for me to notice. Should I not have asked? I don't get the chance to find out. Before I can apologize for bringing it up she continues, quietly, and with her mind seemingly elsewhere.

"His name was Nick. He was my brother, and he was... troubled. I mean, I loved him—a lot!—but he was very problematic and self-destructive. We all worried about him, but at a certain point we also learned to let go. Except for my mother. She never stopped trying to protect him. Or save him." She blinks and focuses on me again. "Being Nick's mom, she did what she had to do. But because of that, she often forgot she was my mom, too."

"And you needed her just as much," I quietly gather out loud.

"Of course I did," she shrugs. "See, you want Clarke to have faith in you. And I admit, it's great to know that your parents believe in you. That they acknowledge your strength and your insights. And that they trust, without any doubt, that you will be okay. But sometimes it's nice to have them a little worried as well. No matter how old you are."

I nod understandingly. There's no need to argue, as I know that she's right. Clarke cares. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Lexa takes a seat next to me on the edge of the bed. She tilts her head to look at me, while more memories bring a small smile to her lips.

"Now of course, when my mother finally did start to worry, I didn't exactly thank her either. Maybe because I wasn't used to it, or maybe because it's just a natural mother-daughter thing. It was easy to act annoyed with her. Safe. Cause in the end, she was... she was Mom. And she wouldn't go anywhere. She would always be around." She swallows, before continuing, "Until she wouldn't..."

"What happened to her?" I ask, my voice even lower than before.

She stays quiet for a moment, then heaves a deep, shaky sigh. "She did what she was born to do. She saved us. Not just Nick, but me too."

I narrow my eyes. "She died, didn't she?"

She slowly nods, with sadness lingering on her face. "Yes."

"I'm really sorry," I sigh, and then, without giving it a second thought, "My mom died, too. My real mom, I mean. Just like my dad."

Lexa's eyes light up. "You remember them?"

"I do," I whisper, hardly audible as I'm biting my lips.

She rests her hand on top of mine. "You wanna tell me about them?"

I stare at her fingers. Her touch is light as a feather and yet giving me exactly what I need: the strength to go on. 

Much to my own surprise, I nod.

"My family is originally from Louwoda Kliron," I start a little unsure, my eyes now fixated on my lap, "but we left the Valley shortly after I was born." I peek up at her through my lashes. "Ironically to get away from you. And your Flamekeeper's scouts."

Relieved that my parents' disobedience doesn't seem to upset her in any way, I exhale and sit up more straight. Closing my eyes for a second, I allow the stored images from a far past back into my mind.

"When my parents found out I was a Natblinda, they decided to hide me from the world, as that was the only way to protect me. So we lived far away, deep in the woods, just the three of us. I remember our life as very simple, yet full of love. But it wasn't always safe out there, or easy, which is why my parents made sure to teach me as many survival skills as they could, from the moment I could barely walk." I look at her again. "In the end those skills turned out to be useless though, at least for them. It wasn't your army that came for us, nor the wild animals that lived in our backyard. It was the Death Wave. It killed them, as it killed everyone else. Except me."

"And Clarke," Lexa smiles, raising her brows, and despite the heavy topic I can't help but mirror that smile.

"Yes, and Clarke. But we didn't meet until months later. And I'm sure that would never have happened at all if I wasn't prepared. I would not have survived on my own if these two people had not been my parents."

Shifting on her spot, she pulls up one leg while the other one still dangles over the edge. "You know, they sound like the only Grounders who actually got it - besides Luna, maybe. They got it, and they saved you because of it. I would say I would have loved to meet them, but of course we both know it's a good thing that I didn't. Not back then."

Suddenly we both chuckle, realizing how weird things are, or could have been. Would I have loved her if I were a novitiate, as apparently everyone else had? Or would I have lead her into some bear-trap at some moment, refusing to forget about my family. There's simply no telling.

"How about you," I ask her instead, "Do you remember your family - Lexa's family, I mean?"

She shakes her head. "Sadly, I don't," she sighs, "Like you said, Nightbloods weren't supposed to grow up with their family. I was no exception. According to the law, they came to claim me on my third birthday. As far as I know my family didn't resist, and with that, they got to live on. They clearly weren't as brave as your folks, though I can't really blame them."

I turn toward her, until we're face to face. "You must have felt so alone."

Another hint of sadness crosses her face, but she doesn't avert her eyes this time. "Sometimes, yes. But I wasn't completely alone. Just like you, I found myself a new family, more than one actually. The other Nightbloods, the ones in my Conclave as well as the little ones that followed, they were like my brothers and sisters. And then there was Costia..."

She doesn't finish her sentence. Instead a startled gasp escapes her.

And I know why.

I've seen it. I've witnessed it all in the dreams that showed me the memories of the former Commanders. In the nightmares that have tortured me since the day I carry the Flame. When it comes to horror, they are difficult to rank, but beside the atrocious flashback leading to Becca's death, there's one that always stands out: the moment the package from Azkeda arrives... and is opened by the one person who shouldn't have to see what's inside, since she's the one who loves her most.

Knowing that to Lexa this wasn't just a nightmare, that she actually lived it, I completely understand that the story ends here. There are moments in life you should never have to go back to.

Lost in our thoughts we've both fallen quiet for a moment, but then Lexa promptly takes my hand and makes me jump off the bed with her.

"Come on," she forces a grin, "Let's go for a stroll. I'm sure you're done with this room by now."

I follow her to the door and into the corridor. As soon as I'm next to her, she glances at me, still smiling. "I did some exploring on my first day here, and I found something I want to show you. That is if I can find it again, since everything looks the same around here."

We turn from one corridor into another, one that indeed looks a lot alike. The next one isn't much different either. We carry on in silence, until we reach a large, open space.

"There!" Lexa cries out, pointing at the huge window at the far back.

We cross the room until we reach the window, which covers almost an entire wall. From afar it didn't show anything else than the black sky outside, but standing right in front of it, it shows a whole lot more. We're now able to look down. And there it is.

The world at my feet.

As I gaze down on it, a speechless wow falls from my lips. The view is absolutely stunning.

Out of words we watch the bright, blue planet on the other side of the window. A planet still full of life, despite what's happening to it. I wonder if there's a place like Shallow Valley somewhere, a place that I can call home again. It doesn't even have to look the same, as it wasn't the house that made the home. It was the people. Mom and Dad in our secret hide out in the woods, and Clarke in our own little universe in the Valley.

I try to picture it, living like that again, with Clarke, and—maybe, hopefully—with Lexa too. But I can't. Cause every time I try, a little voice in my head tells me there are about three hundred people waiting for me to lead them to... who knows where!

I look down again, at that beautiful world out there. Dangerous, obviously, but most of all beautiful. And full of opportunities.

Just not for me.

Sighing wearily, I suddenly drop my shoulders, before lowering myself to the floor. Lexa looks at me, then follows my example, except for the fact that she turns around to rest her back against the window. For a moment we just sit like that, facing each other in silence, as she patiently waits for me to share whatever is bothering me. 

"My parents risked everything, even their lives, to spare me from the Conclave. To make sure I could live my life in freedom," I break our hush, not really sure where I'm going with this, but feeling once again how easy it is to talk to her. "Imagine if they knew it was all for nothing. And Clarke, she absolutely despises the Flame. The only reason she didn't destroy it when she got the chance, was... well, the fear of losing you. And I... I..."

When the words get stuck in my throat, Lexa gives me an encouraging nod.

"...I hate being the Commander!!" I finish in one, long breath.

I hardly dare to look at her, but I do it anyway, and to my deepest relief I don't see any disapproval. All she shows is the hint of a smile.

"Then don't be," she lightly shrugs.

"And leave them like that? I can't!" I cry out. "Hell will break loose. I can't walk away before there's a proper solution. I just can't think of anything. Especially since I feel like I'm hardly guided anymore. You were right, those voices can be annoying, but I need them too. Lexa, I can't do this alone!"

"I know," she nods. Her smile is gone, but she still doesn't seem angry, or disappointed. Just... concerned, maybe? "I know it's a lot. And I know it's not fair to make you bear it. So I think you shouldn't any more."

"You're not listening," I pant, "Without a Commander—"

"Madi, there will be a Commander," she calmly states before I can finish. "I'll take your place. Until I find myself a successor, or some other solution, I will do it. I will be their Heda one last time."

... ...

Chapter Text

I'm holding my breath. I'm very aware of that, yet I don't feel in control to change it. I'm also aware of everyone else holding their breath.

We're all staring at her eyes, staring in anticipation of that first subtle tremble of her closed eyelids. There's no doubt that she's about to open them. In fact that's the only thing we're sure of. No, the real question is: who are we going to meet? Will it be Charmaine Diyoza, my friend or foe—we've been switching sides so many times, I honestly don't know anymore—yet someone with a conscious mind either way, or some voracious monster that only looks like the former colonel?

When she starts to blink against the light, I raise my arm, my fingers clenched so tight around the handle of the knife that they turn white. I'm ready to strike if I have to. But oh please, don't let me have to!

As soon as her eyes are fully open her mouth follows, ready to bite the air between us. If possible I inhale even deeper.

But her teeth don't snap back together.

"Good morning to you too, Clarke," she grumbles instead, her voice still groggy from sleep.

I don't feel able to reply. Finally letting my held breath escape, I immediately start to gasp for new air. I think I need a minute.

"You might wanna lower that down," she goes on, nodding at my now shaking hand, and the sharp blade that's still pointing towards her face. While I do as she asks, Mom steps forward.

"How are you feeling, Charmaine?"

Diyoza rubs her eyes, then slowly sits up and takes the glass of water that Mom offers her. "Quite alright, I think. Definitely better than right before this little nap." Her gaze flicks around. "How long was I under?"

"More than two weeks," Mom tells her. "You uh, you're the first one to wake up... alive."

"You're saying there's another way?" Diyoza frowns.

"There is," Raven jumps in, "One of the many things we learned these weeks is that those creatures that bit you are actually dead. Brain dead, to be more specific. And that a bite will turn you into them."

"So the Muppet was right? To lock me up as a precaution, before moving me up here?"

"She was," Raven nods.

As Diyoza stares at her, I can see the disbelief in her eyes. "How did she know?" she asks.

Raven's eyes find mine. This one is for you, they seem to tell me. I clear my throat, drawing Diyoza's attention.

"I told her," I finally speak up. "When you guys were looking for me, I met... some people. People who've been around. They gave me a little Living Dead 101. I met up with Madi, who told me what happened to you, and passed the information on." I decide right on the spot not to tell her about my you-have-to-stab-her-in-the-head advise, especially when I note how her lips curl into a grin.

"Well how about that?" she smirks, "Clarke Griffin actually saved my life!"

I smile along uncomfortably, while trying to convince myself that ignorance is bliss, but it doesn't really matter; she's already looking at Mom again.

"So tell me Doc, how did you get me to stay me?"

"We have taken the liberty of turning you into a Nightblood," Mom owns up, "I hope you understand that we would have preferred to get your consent, but there was no way of asking you without risking it all."

"I understand the last part," Diyoza smiles in that crooked way of hers, "But I'm afraid the Nightblood thing needs a lot more explaining."

Mom nods. "Of course, I will tell you all about it. I promise. But first I'd like to run some tests."

"You're not sure if you actually cured me?" Moving her hands to her belly, Diyoza gently strokes her baby bump, telling us where the sudden worry in her voice is coming from. "How about Hope? Is she okay?"

Showing her a reassuring smile, Mom lightly rests her hand on Diyoza's shoulder. "So far everything seems fine, for the both of you. Your temperature dropped down to normal, which is a very good sign. Probably also a reason why you feel much better. But I can't say anything for sure without some proper examination."

"We learned a lot," Raven adds, shifting from one foot to the other, "but unfortunately there's a lot more we haven't figured out yet." It's probably not what Diyoza wants to hear, but it's the most honest answer they can give her now.

"Come on," Mom says as she helps her out of the cryogenic pod, "Let's get to the lab."

I watch them leave, Diyoza between Mom and Jackson - wobbling, which I assume is the result of a very lengthy pregnancy of over two hundred years and thus nothing to worry about.

"You're coming?" Raven asks.

Without much thought I look at my wrist to check the time, even though I know better as I lost Dad's watch years ago - a habit I just can't kick. I feel like it must have been hours since I left Madi and Lexa though.

"I think I'd rather check on Madi," I answer her as our eyes meet again.

She raises her brows. "Madi... or your girlfriend?"

"One does not exclude the other," I mumble, feeling annoyance rise already. Not waiting for her response, I walk past her towards the exit of Cryo Chamber B.

"Clarke, wait," she calls after me. I stop and look at her, not able to withhold the sigh that falls from my lips. 

"What now?"

"I'm sorry," she shrugs a bit awkwardly. "For real. I'm glad and thankful you came along with us. The both of you! You seemed to have found a nice place, but you left it for us anyway. And you've really been a great help..." Her eyes drift off to the hand I subconsciously press against the sore spot on my hip. "... and not just when it came to Madi."

I nod and force a smile, realizing she's extending an olive branch. It's up to me now.

"I know seeing Lexa again must have brought back some painful memories to you. But those were different times. We were different people. We made mistakes, all of us, Lexa included. But she's done a lot of great things as well."

She shoves her hands in her pockets, taking a deep breath. "I know."

"And she's really important to me," I go on, "So one way or another, she's gonna stick around. You two don't have to be best friends, but I hope you can at least get used to that."

"You know what, I think I already am." The corner of her mouth lifts a bit, enough to take it as a smile. "I won't bug you again."

"Oh, I'm sure you find something else," I can't help but laugh, "If I don't beat you to it!"

... ...

As I make my way back to Madi's room, I'm strangely aware of the wide grin on my face. Things are finally looking up. Madi is out of the woods. We might have found a cure for what seems to be the biggest threat on this new planet. And Raven and I finally buried the hatched - sort of. I still feel the need to be careful when it comes to being optimistic, but it really does feel like we're a few steps closer to home.

Still grinning I open the door, only to freeze in my motion as soon as my eye catches her on the other side. For a second I think it's Madi, her long hair partly braided like before, covering her shoulders that are now clad in a dark, rough and rather long coat. But although Madi has grown a lot, she's still a few inches shorter than this dead ringer. And if this isn't Madi, I can only think of one other girl who wears this look.

Right then, Lexa turns around and meets my gaze. She flashes me a smile, but I'm unable to offer her one in return. Too overwhelmed by this sight, all I can do is blankly stare at her. It's not just the fact that she's completely dressed in Grounder clothes... her face, with the Heda symbol between her brows, is actually covered in war paint.

"W-What's going on?" I manage to ask at last.

She takes a step closer. "It's time, Clarke."

I blink to check if I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing, then shake my head, not understanding any of this.

"Time for what?"

"To take responsibility," she answers with a light shrug. "Starting with taking that same responsibility away from Madi. It's a burden she should not have to carry."

Turning around I quickly close the door behind me before I face her again. "She shouldn't," I agree, "but does that mean you have to?"

"Yes. If that's how I can protect her, it does."

I narrow my eyes. "Is this about Aden? About his accusations, and your guilt towards those kids?"

"No, this is about Madi," she says, waving her hands. Her voice sounds calm, but her gestures tell me otherwise. "Although I don't see a problem with the fact that Aden opened my eyes. He wasn't wrong."

I draw in a long, deep breath. "I know he wasn't," I exhale, stepping forward. I take her hand in mine. "And I know what his words meant to you. And what Madi already means to you. But—"

"But what?"

"But you said you would never go back," I go on. "That you hated that life, and almost everything that came with it."

She pulls her hand out of mine and starts playing with the buttons of my shirt instead, giving herself a reason to avoid my gaze. "I still do," she quietly admits, "But I hate seeing what this is doing to Madi even more. It's just not right. And if this is what it takes to get her out without any harm..."

"No! Hey, look at me, this can't be the only way—"

"But it is!" she blurts out, her eyes finding mine again as I asked for. "I'm not saying I like it, but I have to agree with Madi. There are a whole lot of people down there relying on her - or at least on the way of leadership that they are used to. The fact that I lost my belief in the Flame, doesn't mean they have to. And we can't just take that away from them."

I shake my head again, not able to agree with her. Not yet. "They spent years without a Commander. All that time in the bunker, they accepted Octavia as their leader, and even when they got out, they followed her command."

"I know, you told me," she nods, "But you also told me what happened as soon as they found out about Madi. They bent the knee for her. All of them, even Octavia herself. Because she understood."

I can't fight her on that.

"Okay, so they need a new Commander. Fine. But why does it have to be you?!"

"Because Grounder law states there can't be a new Commander before the death of the current one. And I think we both agree that we're not going to wait for that, or ask for it to happen with a vote of no confidence."

Heaving another sigh, I fight the urge to throw my hands in the air. "Of course not. But that doesn't answer my question about you."

She shrugs in an almost nonchalant way, clearly feeling in control again. "The law speaks about when and how to become the new Commander, but as far as I know there's no law regarding the return of an old one."

I blink a few times, letting her words sink in.

"So... you would just... be back?"

"I would just be back," she slowly nods again, "With no repercussions towards Madi. Just an honorable Thank You for taking over during my absence."

Slowly I start to feel how her new-found calmness begins to reflect on me. I exhale, relaxing my muscles, and take a seat on the edge of Madi's bed. "And this is how you're going to convince them?" I ask her, gesturing at her outfit and painted face.

"Pretty much, yes," she smirks, quickly adding in a more serious tone, "You don't need to worry though, I'm not taking the Flame."

In all honesty, that's something I hadn't even thought about yet, but I can't deny that I feel relieved hearing this. It raises another worry though. I sigh.

"They will never accept you without it."

"I know," she agrees, "That's why we won't tell them. Not at first, at least." She sits down besides me. "Madi is ready to let go of it. Which is a good start. Now it's up to us what to do with it. We can either destroy it, or hand it to Titus as soon as we can trust him with the secret that I'm not actually carrying it."

"Titus is dead," I tell her, once again realizing there's so much she doesn't know yet.

Her eyes widen, just for a short second, before swiftly readjusting like I didn't just inform her about the faith of her killer.

"See," she cries out, "and that's why I need you with me!" She turns towards me, taking my upper arms in her strong hands. "I feel okay about this, knowing it won't be forever. I will find a way to make some changes and get out alive this time. But I'll need you by my side."

I cup her jaw, my fingers softly grazing her cheek. "I'll always be by your side. But it hurts me when you're unhappy. Which you will be. For one thing, because you're choosing to be Lexa. All of Lexa." I lift her gaze to mine, before softly asking, "What about Alicia?"

Her smile returns, the one that's just so full of love. The one that never fails to make my heart swell. Without a word, she leans in to brush her lips against mine. I shiver at her touch. Seeing her like this after all this years already brought me back in time, but this kiss—this gentle, almost cautious exploring of my lips—actually brings those memories back to life. The memories of stolen glances, and of weak excuses to be around each other. And most of all, of our very first kiss.

How was I ever able to break away from a moment like this?

I answer her kiss without deepening it, enjoying the softness of her lips too much, a softness that leave tingles on mine. I honestly believe I could kiss her all day, every day... if we didn't had jobs like saving the world all the time.

Lexa is the first to pull back, that same warm smile still glued to her face.

"For this to work, Alicia needs to hide a little," she quietly answers me at last, "But I am bringing her with me." She taps the side of her head, "In here."

I take her hand again, this time to press it against my chest, my heart beating right underneath it. "And in here," I wink.

With the slightest nod, the one I know so well, she mouths a soundless "Thank you". Then suddenly, before I can say anything in return, she drops herself backwards onto the mattress, pulling me with her in her fall.

Facing the ceiling like this, she continues, "I'm not forgetting who I am. Neither side of me. In fact, I think Alicia might be the one who's going to get us through this. Like you said before, she's seen this all before. Plus she'll keep us going, by showing the way." She turns her head to look at me, and I do the same. "That life that I was searching for, when we met again... I still want that."

Drowning into her eyes, it takes me a second to find my voice again. "Me too," I whisper. I move my hand to find hers, but instead I take hold of some spikes on her coat, making my lips twist again. "So where the hell did you get the clothes?" I grin.

"Madi took me shopping at the local Gap store... Cryo Chamber E, I think it's called," she chuckles. "Let's say one of the Grounder girls might be a little surprised when she wakes up wearing my sneakers and bomber jacket."

We both laugh out loud, which feels almost as good as kissing her. If only this world allowed us to laugh more often. No! Correction! We should laugh more often! Period.

"Speaking of, where is Madi?" I question when I catch my breath again.

"She went looking for the one thing still missing," she answers, like that tells me anything. "... my swords."

The mentioning of her weapons, and the knowledge why she might need them, brings me back to reality. I try not to show it, but of course that one second of worry crossing my face is enough for her to read me. No longer laughing, her expression closes up.

"I-I want you to be honest, Clarke," she stammers, "Are you mad at me for doing this?"  

While dropping the question, she moves further up on the bed, away from me, as if to create some distance between us. I've seen her do this before, it's her way of protecting herself. There's no need, though. 

"What?! No! No, I'm not!" I call out, not accepting that distance and thus following her. I hover over her as soon as I reach her and lock our eyes, relieved that she doesn't avert hers. "I'm a bit scared, maybe. But mad? No! If anything, I'm proud." Lowering myself, I rest my head on her chest. "And, although I'm not sure if possible, I think I love you even more."

She doesn't say anything else, and neither do I. Instead, she wraps her arms around me and I make sure to nestle myself into them.

After one hundred and thirty-one years (and a couple of months) (but who's counting?) I find myself back in the safe embrace of the Commander.

... ...

Chapter Text

Despite my plan to replace Madi as soon as possible, we choose to wait for at least three days, as we need to be absolute sure Diyoza is okay after her treatment. It's the only way of telling us the Flame makes no significant difference and can indeed be safely removed.

Yet the waiting doesn't mean we're wasting precious time by sleeping in late and playing house, though I do make sure to relish every minute I can get to be alone with Clarke, crack stupid jokes, or simply breathe and be me, knowing all too well things will be very different soon.

On day one we talk to Abby and Raven. After careful consideration we've decided that it's too soon to tell anyone else at this stage. After all, we're not even sure if we can actually proceed the way we want to. Nevertheless my decision stands, and my message to our first two confidants is clear: I will take over from Madi. When we get back to the ground, I will be their Commander again.

"Their?" Abby asks, narrowing her eyes and creasing her forehead.

"Well, yes," I answer her with a reassuring smile, "I'm well aware that some of the survivors are original sky people. Including you two. I don't feel in any position to tell you what to do, let alone to follow my lead."

Clarke shuffles to the edge of her seat, her eyes darting between the two of them. "You can though," she adds.

"And why would we want that?" The cynicism in Raven's voice is hard to miss.

"I can't answer that for you," I reply truthfully. "From what I've been told, I understand many have spent a long time together; Grounders and Skaikru joined as one group. Forced by the calamity that struck them, but thereby also connected."

"Says who?"

"Let me ask you this," I go on, ignoring Raven's question, "Did anyone leave? Since you guys made it to the ground again, and set up camp there?"

She shrugs. "Not that I know of."

"And why's that?"

"I dunno," Raven mumbles, "You'll have to ask them."

"And I will, when I'm down there," I nod. "But for now I assume that they formed bonds with each other. Over time they set their differences aside, while working together. Living together. Hell, surviving together. By now these people know how to rely on each other. And that's worth a lot, especially in a strange new world, one that's full of danger. Not many people would trade that comfort and security for a fully independent—but also very risky—life."

Abby clears her throat. "You're talking about Wonkru, the people in the bunker. But not everyone lived like that. We had a bunch of people up in space—"

"Which was already a mixed group," Clarke points out.

"—and then there are the Eligius prisoners," Abby continues undisturbed, "We don't know yet what they want, or what even to expect from them."

I nod again, slowly, as I'm organizing every piece of information in my head. Things clearly aren't the way I left them. "Those prisoners, they're all still asleep?"

"All but Diyoza, Shaw and two other crew members," Abby answers. "It's not intentional. It's just that... well... they might be trouble."

"Also it's Diyoza's call, and she happened to have been a little distracted from the very first day on," Raven further explains, as her eyes leave mine. "You know, getting bitten while searching for you," she tells Clarke with that specific tone in her voice I'm sure by now she reserves especially for her.

Clarke shoots her a look, making Raven raise her hands in apology. "Sorry, old habit."

"Okay, I'll talk to Diyoza then," I go on, while mentally adding the what to do with two dozen jailbirds? question to my to-do list. "My point right now is that I completely understand that many didn't stay just because Madi told them to. Cultures have mixed, but believes haven't. Grounders still believe in the Flame, and at the same time everyone else probably never will. I can't see any reason for wanting to change that."

Raven leans forward, resting her elbow on the table between us, and her chin up on her palm. She gazes at me with an examining look in her eyes, before asking inquisitively, "Do you?"

I frown. "Do I what?"

"Still believe in it?"

"I uh..." I fall quiet, realizing—and not for the first time—that I find the subject more complicated than I initially thought. In my head it's been clear for a while now, but at some moments I can't help feeling like I'm betraying something, or someone. Maybe even myself? I rub my neck like my muscles are suddenly tensed, while in reality it's my way of connecting with something that's been long gone. Right then I feel Clarke's hand underneath the table, softly stroking my knee. I swallow.

"I don't," I admit. "I mean I don't believe in the myth of it any longer. In the rules and the rituals that are believed to be necessary. Essential even. Or in the guidance it's supposed to give. But the abilities, the power of the device itself, well, if someone can't ignore that, it's me. After all, I experienced it for years. I just didn't recognize it for what it is."

Abby tilts her head, squinting her eyes again. "Which is?"

"Some kind of artificial intelligence," I shrug. "Something I would never have understood before, but I'm now able to, since as Alicia I grew up learning about similar technology. Plus Clarke told me about all your discoveries after I..." A shaky gasp sneaks up on me, but doesn't stop me. "She explained about the technology behind it. And I do believe in that - in the technology part. Admittedly, I'm actually quite interested in all that."

Raven shoots up straight. "You are?"

"Of course I am. The Flame is connected to the nightblood, right? And the nightblood is clearly connected to the virus that's eating us alive - or is making us eat each other alive, I should say. I mean, if we really found a cure here—"

"Uh uh," Abby stops me, shaking her head. "A vaccine, maybe, but not a cure. One that only protects against a bite. We have yet to find out what will happen when someone just... dies, in any other way."

"Also we have no idea about the effect on the brain once treated. On those... things... growing in there after said bite. There might still be something happening up there, hidden deeply in the grey mass, without causing any symptoms... just yet," Raven wonders out loud.

Suddenly feeling restless, I shift in my seat. "Okay, well, a good start at least. A first step in the right direction. Believe me, I would much rather dig into all that, than climb back onto a thrown."

"Then why don't you?" Clarke's words tumble out before she can stop them. I turn toward her, a soft sigh escaping me as my eyes find hers. It's not one of annoyance though, just the silent wish this wasn't such a struggle for her.

"I told you, I have to do this," I quietly tell her, "It's f—"

"—for Madi," she finishes my sentence with me. "I know."

We keep staring at each other for a moment, the weight of my decision hanging heavy between us, before I turn back toward Abby and Raven. "But you on the other hand..."

Raven leans back in her chair again, crossing her arms over her chest, and making me check the still defensive-box in my head. "What about us?" she asks in a sharp voice, yet with a touch of curiosity.

"Well, like I said, you're free. I mean it, I'm not going to keep you here, or anywhere else you don't want to be. So the question I'm asking you, as I will ask everyone else, is: what do you want?"

I pause to let my words sink in, and as I do, a silence falls upon us. Abby is the first to break it.

"I... I think I want to stay up here. To create more vaccines, but also..." As she falters, her eyes search for Clarke's. I could be wrong, but I think I spot both guilt and apology in them. "I'm sorry honey, I don't want us to part again, but I... I don't think I can leave Marcus."

Clarke stretches her arm, reaching over the table to take Abby's hand in her own. "It's okay, Mom. I get it," she reassures her, continuing after a quick glance at me, "I really do."

For a long second, Abby's gaze flicks between the two of us, before showing her daughter a warm, sincere smile - sharing Clarke's understanding without the need to say it. When she releases her hand, she turns to Raven.

"What about you? Will you help me?"

With a pensive look, Raven tilts her head up a little, like the answer to that question is written on the wall behind me. She nods, though hardly visible. "I want to focus on the science too, much more than on the politics." Her gaze drops back to our eye-level, flicking between Clarke and me. "That's more your game, anyway."

Abby sighs in relief, presumably because—as Clarke has told me—she kind of feels like a mother to Raven as well. (Which kind of makes Clarke and Raven sisters, which kind of explains the constant bickering between the two of them.) "So you'll stay here with me?"

"Actually..." Shifting in her seat, Raven slowly unfolds her arms. "Actually I think I feel too limited up here. If you really ask me what I want, and I'm starting to believe you do, I'd say I want a real chance to figure this out. I want specimens, equipment, a real lab... a sparring partner with a brain crazy enough to keep up with me." She glances at Abby. "No offense."

I suck in my lower lip, biting it as I think about what she's saying - or asking?

"Okay," I slowly nod, "Would be easier if you'd just wanted to be a Walker Slayer, since there are plenty of job opportunities in that field, but yeah, okay."

For a second Raven's eyes grow wide, before she suddenly bursts into laughter.

"Okay?" she hiccups, "What? You decide to be the Commander and with that you can magically arrange anything you want?"

I know she's scoffing at me, but I still can't help but grin along.

"You didn't know I was Harry Potter's class mate?"

"Harry who?" Raven and Clarke ask in unison.

I shake my head, chuckling, "Never mind." I look at Raven again - still smiling, but no longer laughing. "No, I do not know any magic. I just hear what you say and I want to think along. I really do want to work together, Raven."

"Alright then, I guess I'll take your word for it," she returns my smile, "Any clues where to find any of this?"

"I'm afraid not," I shake my head again. "The last time I saw some kind of lab was in High School, which wasn't just a poor rip-off of a real lab, but was also all the way back in L.A. In this area I'm almost as new as you guys, so I'm just as lost."

This time it's Clarke who leans forward, her forearms on the table and her fingers making a steeple as she often does when she's plotting things out. "We might be all new here, but we know some people who are not."

We look at each other as if on cue, our eyes locking instantly. "You're thinking about Magna, aren't you?" I frown.

"I am, yes," she nods. "Unless you think she wouldn't help us again?"

"I don't know, I guess there's only one way to find out. She did tell me she would be there for Raven too, if needed, so I guess it's worth the try."

"She did, huh?" Raven comes in between, but I keep my focus on Clarke. After all, Raven wasn't wrong: this is our game.

"We could ask Madi to send Echo again?" I suggest. "Though it still feels weird to trust an Azkeda spy."

Clarke flashes me a smile, one that shows understanding as well as reassuring.

"We can, I promise. In fact, I even believe we can ask her ourselves. Tell her about you. Assuming everything works out, she'll go and bring Magna back with her to a whole new situation. One in which you are the Commander again. I think Magna deserves to know that before she assents to come along or not, after all she did for us."

"You're right," I nod, and with that agreement we conclude our first close-to-official counsel.

... ...

We radiocontact Echo straight away. When we're absolutely sure it's just her on the receiving end of the line, I inform her about the fact that I've taken over from Madi.

It hits me how the tone in her voice changes dramatically as soon as she understands the full meaning of this - a clear heads up what to expect from the other Grounders once they find out. The choice to stay or go really is theirs, but moments like these make me doubt if people will indeed go, leaving me with a group of at least a hundred... and triple as many when the non-Grounders feel the same way.

I swallow, trying to force myself not to think about that part yet, and ask Echo to go and find Magna at Oceanside.

I try my best to make it sound like a favor instead of an order, though I know—and kind of hate—that she won't take it that way. Although commanding still comes surprisingly natural to me, I realize it might take a while to get comfortable with it again. And honestly, I don't even know if I want to.

Most of all I make sure she gets my message - I'm asking Magna to help me find a laboratory, a professor of any kind, anything or anyone science related really, but the fact that I'm the Commander now doesn't mean I'm summoning her; in the end it's her own free choice to help us out or not! - and will deliver it in that way, and that way only.

"Oh, and tell her it's actually for Raven!" I mention right before we disconnect. Something tells me that might make a difference.

 ... ...

The next day I learn more about Abby's Marcus, who turns out to be Kane and who I actually met quite a few times back in the day, and who's now kept in cryo, because he's badly injured.

I also sit down with Colonel Charmaine Diyoza, who unlike Echo, is clearly not familiar or impressed with Grounder culture, including its view on leadership. I can't say she doesn't act respectful toward me, but she's not shy to admit her trouble with understanding Madi's position - after all, how are all these people following a child?! Her words feel more like a sincere wondering than an insult though.

As Diyoza is a leader herself, my first question to her is if she plans on staying one. Cause if so, I'd say: it's a big world out there, so gather your people and wander off. (With the best of luck, of course.) I'm not saying I'm not striving for democracy, but it simply feels too soon to have two captains on one ship.

Yet if she doesn't want to be in charge any longer, she's more than welcome to stay and try to find her place in this micro-world that my people are already starting to create on the ground, and that will be under my command until further notice.

Diyoza doesn't answer me right away, which is something I actually appreciate. She just listens, chews it over and weighs her options, until she tells me at last that she needs more time to make her final call. To my slight relief though, she does agree that we won't wake up her men till she figures out what she considers best, admitting that "they can be quite a handful."

We do the count. We still have thirty-six people in cryo-sleep, including Marcus Kane and the prisoners, who will all stay in this comatose state for now.

We wake up everyone else. Twelve men and women in total. These people, together with Abby, Jackson, Raven, Shaw and Niylah, are the first ones to be offered a bone marrow transplant - now simply called The Vaccine. The treatment is completely voluntary, but everyone accepts it. Everyone opts for protection.

The only one who hesitates is... well, me.

I find myself struggling with a strange and rather unexpected resistance from the moment the question is raised, a resistance that I find difficult to accommodate. Clarke and I even have words about it, our first fight since we found our way back to each other.

I hate it. I hate that I even have to think about it. I hate that it brings me back to my past, to what being a Nightblood meant for me - a curse that I couldn't escape.

But above all I hate seeing the fear in Clarke's eyes, the fear that I might not do it. 

So I do it.

Of course I do it.

At the end of the third day everyone is treated. I have to admit, I'm amazed we pulled it off in such a short time, since the proces is way more complicated than just getting some shots. But with everyone joining we also quickly gained more donors, which—as it turned out—helped a lot.

And which leaves us with only one more thing to take care of: the Flame.

... ...

Just like Diyoza, and much to our relief, Madi recovers back to full health. With that, there's no need to wait any longer.

The moment when Clarke finally removes the device feels almost intimate. After all the different kind of meetings we've had, this time it's just Madi, Clarke and me. My family, it hits me when I watch the two of them, this is my family... And not like Strand, Lucy, Al and the others have become my family. This is the family I actually want to play house with - like, for real.

The moment is short though, too short to lose myself in.

"Yu don kom teik me," Madi recites the phrase that will set her free. You have to let me.

Clarke reaches for her neck, ready to pull out the Flame. The sight of it as well as Madi's soft groan make me wince, but it only takes a second.

"Alright, I believe this is yours." Looking at me over her shoulder, Clarke lifts up her hand, the white-bluish chip carefully held between her thumb and forefinger. "You want a treasure box to keep it in... or rather a hammer to smash it?"

"Neither," I answer as I watch how she covers the cut in Madi's neck with a Band-Aid, even when it already seems to heal. "Madi, how do you feel?"

Madi rolls onto her back and looks up at me. "I... I think I feel... light. Even though I could never actually feel the Flame, I do feel like... like a heavy backpack is taken of my shoulders." She grins sheepishly. "Does that make any sense?"

"It makes a lot of sense," I grin just as wide. Whatever happens next, I'm already glad that she is relieved from this burden. "If you feel alright, do you think you can try and find Raven for me?"

She jumps off the bench with the energy that fits a twelve-ish year old. "Sure. Be right back!" She's gone before I can even thank her.

I turn to Clarke again.

"Okay, part two," I smirk foolishly as I sit down on a chair and pull my hair up, exposing the skin underneath. "No worries, we'll get back to your question in a bit."

Clarke mumbles some words underneath her breath. I can't hear them, but I know her well enough to recognize her impatience speaking, which I actually find pretty endearing. I giggle.

Instead of joining my laughter, she takes a firm hold on me. "Sit still."

"Yes, ma'am," I chuckle.

"Lexa!"

"Okay, okay, I will!" I take a deep breath and sag my shoulders. "Alright, hit me!"

Clarke lays her hand on top of mine, holding me steady, then softly tilts my head forward until my chin touches the hollow between my collarbones. She reaches out for the scalpel from the table next to us. Two seconds later I feel how she makes a shallow incision in the back of my neck.

"Is it deep enough? It will leave a scar, will it?" I ask her without trying to move.

"I think so," she answers as she dabs the blood for a minute with some cotton wool. "It's closing up already. See, just a few drops."

Her hand returns in my field of vision, showing me the cotton wool with the little blood I lost. It's black, and it doesn't feel like mine.

Clarke is already moving on, tossing away the cotton and picking up a black sharpie. "Don't! Giggle!" she warns me again.

The tip of the marker glides gently over my skin. It tickles, which makes me gasp. I quickly bite my teeth. "Sowwy," I murmur.

"This won't take long," she says from behind me. I can tell by the sound of her voice that she's smiling. As soon as she's done, she leans closer and presses her lips against the drawing on my neck.

"Clarke, it's not dry yet!" I shriek.

"It is," she smiles against my skin, "It won't come off. In fact, it will stay with you just as long as I will..." She takes my shoulders and spins me toward her, our faces now only a few inches away from each other. "... for infinity!"

"God, you're so lame," I snort, but my belly is backflipping and I know that she knows.

"Fine, act all tough, if that's what you need to get back in Commander Mode," she shrugs nonchalantly, "But I know you like it."

She slowly moves her hand back up to mine, the gentle touch reminding me that I can let my hair down again. When I do, her fingers rake through it and start toying with one of my locks. Her eyes never leave mine. The playful sparkle I spot in them makes me melt into a puddle.

"I like you," I surrender. Not giving her a chance to celebrate her victory, I pull her close for a kiss. One that I can't finish the way I want to, because Madi and Raven walk in on us.

"What's up?" Raven asks with the clear intention to get straight to it.

I get up from my chair and face her. "Raven, did Madi tell you we got the Flame out?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet."

"Well, we did. But I'm not going to take it - which is something you can not tell anyone."

"Not even Gaia?"

Clarke and Madi already taught me that Gaia, Indra's daughter, is the new Flamekeeper. I take a stern look at her. "Not anyone," I emphasize.

As she raises her brows in anticipation, I can tell she's intrigued. One corner of her mouth shows a bit of a smile. "You're going to destroy it, aren't you?"

Now I'm the one to shake my head. "Nope... I'm going to give it to you."

Her eyes grow wide, just like Clarke's, as I can see from the corner of my eye. "Why- Why would you do that?"

"Because the way I see it, this thing is kind of a memory drive. Not a simple USB stick, but still, it has to be some kind of storage device... right?"

"Right..." Raven slowly nods, still clueless and waiting for more.

"So it must contain a lot of useful information. Hopefully even some information that can help you understand all that is happening on the ground right now. And that can help you find that cure."

Clarke exhales, telling me the penny has dropped. "Because Becca's memory is on there as well!" she exclaims.

"Exactly," I can't help but smirk a little, before turning back to serious, and to Raven. "At least that's what I hope for. Which means that if this thing is ever going to help any of us, it's going to be you, since you're the one looking for answers."

Blinking a few times Raven forces herself to break her stare. "And... you trust me with it?"

My lips curve into a smile. "I do. Though you have to promise me three things. One: you can't tell anyone about it, at least not till you find the right people to work with, and to trust. Two: it can never ever be implanted again, not even in times of despair. I'm giving you this for science and science only."

Raven nods without debating me. "And three?" she asks instead.

"Three: if you manage to crack it and there happens to be a file on there with my name on it, then you stay away from it. Not a single peek! Got that?"

Her gaze lingers on me for a moment, then moves to Clarke, then back to me. Right then her eyes grow big again, flicking between the two of us twice more, each time a little faster. Finally focusing on me again, she pretends to shiver in disgust.

"Oh believe me," she groans, "I wouldn't look if they'd force me!"

... ...

The flight down is even worse than the one up, because now I'm also terrified of crashing into the ground. But my fear appears unnecessary: Raven and Shaw prove once again to be excellent pilots by making a perfect landing, one that only comes with a light thud.

Once released from our seat belts and harnesses, we all make our way toward the exit. Just like earlier, I'm wearing war paint and heavy Grounder clothes. With some regret I left my gun barrel behind. Instead I carry two swords, crossed on my back. Madi found them for me, together with some other stuff, including a scarlet scarf which we have sewn on the left shoulder of my coat. Instinctively I pull it over my head, searching for the protection and comfort it used to give me.

A hoodie avant la lettre.

Right then Clarke shows up next to me. She trails her fingers down my arm and takes my hand. I squeeze hers in return.

"Ready for Resurrection Day?" she quietly asks me.

I turn my face toward her. "Oh God, they're going to call it that, aren't they?"

"Probably," she giggles before looking back at me. Our eyes find each others. As always I find calm in the infinite depth of blue.

"Are you ready?" she asks, no longer laughing.

I nod. I am.

Drawing in another long breath, I take a step forward, toward Madi. I lay my hand on her shoulder. "Alright strisis... it's showtime!"

Shaw takes the cue and pulls the lever that opens the heavy door. We step outside as one, Clarke and I right behind Raven, Shaw, Madi, Niylah and Diyoza. On the other side Indra en Gaia come to meet us as soon as our feet touch the ground.

"Heda! It's good to see you again, and in such great health," Gaia cheers with enthusiasm. Indra, on the other hand, retains her familiar coolness.

"Welcome back, Heda," she tells Madi with a short nod. "Your tent is ready. You'll find your throne in there, next to your personal belongings."

"Thank you, Indra, but I won't be needing that," Madi replies calmly.

"What do you mean? Of course you do!" Gaia cries out. "We should have arranged it right after your ascension, but in those final days there and our first ones here—"

Madi raises her hand, making Gaia fall quiet right away. "I mean I don't need it, because I won't be sitting on it. I'm not your Commander anymore."

They both frown in confusion. "Then... who is?" Indra asks cautiously, an alarmed look creeping across her face.

Madi knows simply answering that question isn't gonna work. Instead she takes a step aside, making room for me to step forward.

"I am," I tell my old friend.

As soon as their eyes move from Madi to me, they both stare at me in complete disbelief. With eyes like saucers and their jaws open they look at me like they're watching a ghost.

"No, this... this... can't be," Indra stammers. She takes a small step closer to have an even better look. "L-Lexa?!"

I confirm with a single nod.

It's enough to make Indra kneel in front of me before I can stop her. Gaia follows her example; her quiet, devoting Hedaaa almost sounds like a sigh.

"I'm very pleased to see you too, Indra!" A grin sneaks up on me and I realize, a little to my own surprise, that I really am happy to see her again. "And you as well, Gaia. Now please rise to your feet and let's move to that tent, so we can come up with the best way to inform everyone else."

I turn to Madi. "I promise I'm soon done asking you for anything, but could you find Bellamy and send him to me?"

She answers by running off straight away.

When Madi is out of sight, Indra leads me, together with Clarke and Raven, to what I guess is now my tent. The throne they built in it is such a centerpiece that there's just no ignoring it. I take a deep breath—if I'm doing this I have to do it well—and force myself to sit on it. It comes with some flashbacks, but there's no time for that right now.

"Indra, I understand you have questions. I will try to answer them later on. But first, tell me about our current situation. Where are—"

I can't finish, distracted by the sound of someone wanting to get in, despite Gaia trying to stop them at the entrance, with little success. 

The voice, now clearly a woman's, draws closer and louder. 

"Trust me, it's alright," she states, "She personally  asked for me."

As she lets herself in, I can only admit that she's speaking the truth, as it turns out that it's Magna.

She approaches me in the casual way she's used to, the way we acted around each other in Oceanside, then suddenly stops herself, blinks, and makes an awkward bow. With her eyes to the ground, she clears her throat, mumbling, "Heda Lexa."

I force myself not to laugh. "Magna, thank you for meeting me. Please, stand up and... be you."

She does as told.

"Did Echo explain to you what we're looking for?"

"Yes, her message was very clear, as was her question," Magna nods. "Unfortunately I personally wouldn't know where to find a laboratory. But I do know a scientist who might be helpful. He's quite a genius, though a little odd maybe. His name is Eugene Porter."

A genius, that almost sounds too good to be true. "And where do we find this Eugene? Let me guess... Canada? No, even worse... somewhere overseas?"

Soft laughter escapes her, a hint of normal human behavior I embrace wholeheartedly.

"It's not that bad," she grins, "He lives in Alexandria, our third community. The one in the north."

I narrow my eyes. "How's that not bad? As I recall, we're not exactly welcome there."

"Yes, I remembered those restrictions as well. Which is why Echo, Miko and I took a little detour on our way up here. We visited Hilltop and..." She pauses.

"And?"

"Well, I hope this won't give any problems, but... I told Jesus that you're back in command."

Slowly shaking my head, I let out a harsh breath. "You shouldn't have bothered. He clearly doesn't care."

"Well, actually..."

Magna looks over her shoulder to Echo, who's waiting at the entrance and now pulls back the canvas, letting in the bearded man I once used to know as Aden. He walks up to me with a firm stride, giving me a hard stare all the while. I return it, intuitively prepared for a blow of any kind. About five feet away from me he comes to an abrupt stop.

Our eyes stay locked for five... six... seven seconds... Around us, no one moves. No one makes a sound.

Eight... nine...

I'm trying to read his gaze. I see anger and bitterness, but also something I can't yet define. But it looks like I don't have to figure it out by myself. After what feels like forever he breaks our deafening silence.

His voice is clear and stable, but also surprisingly soft when he says to me, "This doesn't mean I forgive you."

I open my mouth, then close it again when I find nothing to say.

He doesn't even notice, as his eyes are already on the floor... and before I know it, so is his knee.

... ...

Chapter Text

Standing on the side, I watch in astonishment how the leader of Hilltop enters the tent. He walks straight up to Lexa, looking determined, yet somehow not like a threat - which is the only reason why I don't move.

Despite the aloof look in his eyes, he stops at a respectable distance from her. He doesn't speak, and when she doesn't either, I feel like I'm witnessing an impromptu staring competition. One that Lexa comes out as winner.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you," he says at last, and right before he averts his eyes away from her and bends the knee.

A surprised gasp escapes me, and by the look on her face I can tell Lexa must feel the same.

With his eyes still on the ground, Aden doesn't seem to notice.

"With today's knowledge, it's hard not to have some opinions about the Flame... but that doesn't mean I lost my respect for it," he goes on. "I still honor it, and I still honor you, as the one carrying it." He looks up at her again. "So I will escort you and your friends to Alexandria."

Lexa blinks once more, then finally manages to retrieve her voice.

"Please, stand," she tells her former protégé. When he's back on his feet, she continues, "Aden, I am..." She falters, then clears her throat. "I won't ask you for your mercy. I know that wouldn't be fair. But I do hope I can ask you to accept my gratitude. I'm really thankful that you are here, willing to help my people."

"Our people," he corrects her. "You made me vow it once. To support and protect all clans. Back then that included the Sky People, and to me it still does. The same counts for your—" He stops himself mid-sentence, only to continue in a lower voice, "—for Alicia's friends."

Her lips form a thin, but gracious smile. "I appreciate that, but I can't hold you to that pledge."

"With all due respect, Heda, but it's no matter of you holding me to it. I'm not one to break my vows."

"Then I won't argue about it," she nods. "Now I know you came all the way here to discuss a trip to Alexandria, but..." She leans forward, continuing underneath her breath, "... how is everyone?"

Despite the sudden confidential tone between them, his face remains stoic. "Everyone's fine. Safe behind my walls."

Sitting upright again, she heaves a sigh of relief. "They are? Thank you."

His soft mutter is barely an answer, and when he stays quiet, Lexa seems to realize he's waiting for her to be done. She quickly collects herself.

"Right, okay. So... Alexandria. Raven over there will tell you more about what she's searching for."

Raven lifts her hand by way of greeting. He nods at her, his eyes almost friendly, before turning back to Lexa, who's still talking.

"There are some other matters I need to deal with right now. I suggest we discuss further details in the morning. Until then, you're all welcome to stay here as our guests. Is there anything you need right now?"

"Not from you," he answers. "But with your approval, we like to set up our camp a mile or so outside of this one. I might look quite different these days, but as I'm told, this one doesn't." He looks at Magna, who has been standing next to him this whole time, and lays his hand upon her shoulder. "We're willing to help, but we really like to stay away from the fuss you're most likely about to create." 

Lexa gets up, smoothes her coat and takes a small step forward. "I understand. Believe me, Aden, I really do. I propose Raven walks with you, so that you can make a plan together. We can meet again at sunrise?"

"Sure," he mumbles.

Magna and Raven both turn to make their way out, surprisingly enough without any comment, and I expect him to do the same, but he lingers. Lexa furrows her brows.

"Is there anything else?"

"Well, I-I know I can't tell you what to do, but..." He takes a deep breath. "I'd prefer if you would call me Jesus."

She gazes at him, a bit startled, and with a hint of embarrassment. "Of course! I'm so sorry, I—"

He holds up his hand, and though it's hard to tell because of his facial hair, I even think he's showing her a smile - though the weakest in its kind. "It's okay."

He bobs his head, then turns around and follows the others outside before Lexa can apologize to him once again.

I step closer to her, just to check up on her, but the rollercoaster continues before I can even ask her how she's holding up. Right when Indra is about to shoot the first of her many questions, Bellamy comes in.

"Clarke!" he exclaims, making not just me, but all of us look at him, "Finally! Back at last!"

Ignoring everyone else, he swiftly strolls towards me. I meet him halfway and we embrace, which feels familiar and awkward at the same time. With finding out about Monty's new found planet and deciding we actually wanted to work together to make it work down here, for all our people, we kind of left everything that happened in the bunker as well as the valley behind us - yet with many things unsaid, and history still lingering between us.

Eventually, only time will tell if we can really get past all that.

"I knew it, even before going back to the ground. I knew you'd take off again sooner or later," he sighs when our eyes meet again, "I was betting on sooner, but I have to admit I would never have guessed it would only take you two minutes."

"Leaving you guys was not exactly my free will," I set him straight, reminding the both of us of my abduction. "But yes, once gone I found some reasons to stay away a little bit longer. Or one reason, I should say. A very good one."

His blank expression tells me he has no clue what—or rather who—I'm talking about. A subtle smirk creeps on my face. "Although I'm glad to see you again, I am not the one who asked for you, Bellamy."

I step away from him, towards Lexa, and take her hand in mine. Bellamy follows me with his eyes, then moves his gaze to the woman besides me... and starts to blink like a maniac.

"What? No... How's that...? Is this for real?!" he stammers.

I softly squeeze her hand, as if I still need some evidence myself, which she gives me by squeezing mine right back. "It is," I smile, "But don't ask how."

He opens his mouth to ask more questions, but no words come out. As he keeps imitating a fish on the dry, Lexa takes another step forward.

"Bellamy Blake, thank you for meeting me. Something tells me Madi hasn't informed you I took over from her?"

"No, she didn't," he shakes his head. "You're saying that... that you're the Commander again?"

"I am," she nods, "I released Madi from all her duties. But I do like to work with you, since Clarke told me about your leadership qualities and position within this group." Without waiting for his reply, she shifts her attention to her prior war chief. "Indra, it goes without saying that I cannot and will not do this without you either."

Indra gives a curt nod of her head. "Heda, I can't comprehend any of what's happening, but I'm here for whatever you need from me. Just tell me your orders."

Letting go of my hand, Lexa steps backward, where she takes a seat on her throne again.

"My orders... right."

For a second or two it looks like she can't remember how she got here, let alone what she wants, but then she takes in a sharp breath and straightens her back. It's in that moment that I see her. The girl I met so many years ago. The girl who knows what she wants. The girl who knows how to get it. And yes, the girl who makes my heart pound and my knees weak, cause damn... does she look good!

"For the past few weeks I've been busy exploring," she speaks up, preventing my wandering thoughts from spinning out of control. "It seems like we are currently in no man's land, yet right in the middle of three communities that have some kind of... coalition. Just claiming this land doesn't feel right. It wouldn't make us any better than those Whisperers you so effectively defeated. There's a chance here we can be part of the good guys, and I think we should take it."

"How?" Bellamy asks.

"I want to join Jesus and Raven. I will come to Alexandria with them so I can talk to their leader. In the meantime we don't start building here. We don't just assume it's all settled. But we will protect what we have. First of all by defending ourselves from potential enemies from the outside, living ones as well as dead. Indra, I'd like you to take care of that."

Lexa's eyes rest on Indra for a second, before moving back to Bellamy. "And second by managing peace and safety within this diverse, challenging group. In my absence, I'd like to put you in charge there."

"You want me to keep them busy?" Bellamy nods thoughtfully, "I can do that. Although I happen to know that quite a few men and women want to start building."

"They can, just not here. We're not taking anything that's not ours yet."

"Then where would they go?" Indra asks her.

"Anywhere," Lexa shrugs. "Arriving here all together doesn't mean everyone necessarily has to stay together. Each individual has a choice to make. A free choice. Choosing to stay means choosing to be a part of something. A membership, that comes with both rights and duties. Bellamy, while I'm away I want you to talk with everyone, tell them about their options and make them decide. We go from there when I return."

Suddenly looking up, her eyes find mine. They lock, and her lips slowly curve into a soft smile. "When we return," she corrects herself.

"You're not going to talk to them yourself?" Bellamy frowns.

I watch her eyes turn a darker shade of green. Her jaw tightens, just enough for me to notice, before she turns to look at him again. She coughs.

"Not right now. I... I'm not—"

"How about the vaccine?" I promptly jump in, though knowing the answer already since we talked great lengths about it. She quietly thanks me with another smile.

"Right. The other thing I want people to be informed about. Bellamy, if you talk to Niylah, she'll tell you all about it. I want to ask the both of you to come up with a system that can help as many people as possible. Though again: by free choice. I assume you'll need Abby, Jackson and Shaw as well, since this will involve more space trips. Here on the ground, I'm thinking some kind of clinic. Maybe Niylah could run it. Can you ask her?"

Bellamy scratches his head, looking puzzled. The recent developments in space have clearly not reached the earth yet. "S-Sure," he mumbles.

"Good," Lexa states. She resolutely rises from her throne. "It's getting late, let's call it a night for now."

Indra gives another honorific nod. "Of course, you had a long day." She takes a step towards the exit, though without turning her back just yet. "You'll find your bed behind that curtain. You can take your rest there. I'll go and find two men to guard your tent. No one will bother you until sunrise at least."

Lexa thanks her, which Indra takes as a final sign of being dismissed. She turns around and follows Bellamy. When they are both almost at the flap of the tent, I suddenly speed forward, catching Gaia who's been waiting for them outside.

"Gaia, wait!" I call for her, "Have you seen Madi?"

She nods. "She's in my tent, sleeping in the bed we originally made for you. Is that alright?"

"Absolutely," I smile, "Can she stay with you for the night? I don't want to wake her, and I know you'll keep her safe."

"Of course," she nods again, before slightly tilting her head. "I uh... I assume you stay here?"

Not able to stop myself I chuckle, which makes me feel like a schoolgirl. "You assumed right," I laugh.

She grins back at me, just for a short moment, then abruptly stops laughing all together. Instead she bows her head to me.

"Reshop, Wanheda," she says, her gaze now at the ground between us, "I trust you to keep her safe, too."

Her words are soft, but not without weight, and as I watch her walk away they remain hanging in the air until I turn around.

... ...

When I get back into our tent, I find Lexa standing in the middle of it. She's got her fingers against her chin, almost like a statue, and her eyes on the impressive wooden chair, ornamented with swords, lances and beautiful curled branches.

"I have to admit that I'm amazed how they pulled this off. It does look an awful lot like my thrown in Polis," she sighs.

I step closer to her, lightly resting my hand against the small of her back. "Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "I guess it's just another reminder of a time I'd rather forget about." She shakes her head to break free from the haunting memories and looks at me. Despite the topic, there's a touch of a smile on her face. "Most parts of it, that is."

The bright images of our shared moments make me mirror her smile.

"It's just that... sitting on a throne, with people kneeling for me, and me telling them what to do... it doesn't fit me anymore," she goes on, "I can't see the joy in it, and right now it's hard to imagine that I ever did, or more importantly: that I ever will."

"I get that," I nod, "Although I have to say you did look convincing... and pretty damn fine." I let my hand slip from her back to her waist, holding her a little tighter. "Also I don't think it has to be that hopeless. I actually believe we can make you change your perspective a little bit." 

She narrows her eyes at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I can think of a few ways to, you know, make some things a bit more... attractive again," I wink. Spinning her even more towards me, I muffle her giggle by pressing our lips together. My tongue seeks hers right away and she answers without any hesitation, hers hot and smooth against mine. It's enough to lose my mind and forget everything around me, but that's the one thing I don't intend to.

Running my hands up her sides, slow but determined, my fingers find the lapels of her coat. I slip my hands underneath it and shove it off her shoulders and down her arms till it hits the ground behind her. When I lower my hands again, stroking her breasts on their way down, she softly moans into my mouth... before suddenly pulling an inch away from me.

"Clarke, what are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I smile as my hand disappears under the hem of her shirt. Her skin is soft, while the tight muscles of her abdomen feel strong underneath my touch. A lethal combination. "I'm trying to get you naked... to start with."

I move my lips to her neck and suck on her pulse point as soon as I find it. Another moan escapes her, unwillingly as it seems, since it's followed by some muted sounds of grumbling demur.

"Someone can walk in," she whimpers, trying but hardly succeeding to contain herself.

I chuckle. 

"And risk to lose their head? They're not that stupid, you know."

I eagerly drag my mouth back to hers, ecstatic that she welcomes it... but it doesn't stop her just yet.

"They... They can hear us!" she murmurs into our kiss.

Not wanting to force her into anything she doesn't want to, I'm about to step back, but right then she raises her arms after all. I release a giggly sigh and pull her shirt over her head, then peck her lips again.

"Then be quiet," I smirk before pulling her back into my arms. She doesn't object any longer, and when I feel how she melts into another kiss, I know she's in.

I palm her breasts, swiping my thumbs over her nipples, teasing them through her bra till they harden - which doesn't take very long. Her exhalation is filled with lust and delight. I start to move, cautiously guiding her backward towards the throne until the back of her knees hit the edge of the seat. Dropping herself down on it, she pulls me along until I hover over her. With my lips still on hers, I lower my hands till they reach her waistband.

"Lift your butt," I tell her, my voice now rasp and husky.

Holding on to my shoulder she raises up an inch or two. I pull down her pants and undies in one motion. Or two actually, cause you know, boots. Once all garments are tossed to the side, I straddle her lap. She brings her arms up around me, her hands now on my back to pull me close. 

Sinking down, my lips explore the soft, sensitive skin behind her jaw, while my hand slips into the cup of her bra. Her heart races underneath my touch. I tip my chin, tickling her ear with my breath, and shudder when my name rolls of her lips - deep and low, and telling me I shouldn’t move away just yet. I gently nip at her earlobe, graze it with my teeth, before I trace the shape with my tongue.

Her breathing quickens fast.

"I may be wrong," I gasp, my mouth still close to her ear, "but it looks to me that this chair does get you a little excited."

Lexa draws away, just enough to give me a rebuttal, but I don't let her. Swiftly closing the gap between us again, she loses the chance to fight me on this. When we finally do break apart, I look deeply into her eyes.

"Now tell me... what are your orders?"

A flush creeps up her face. "My... my orders?"

"Yes," I nod, gently squeezing her breast and rolling the erect nipple between my fingers. "What do you want?"

With her eyes stuck on mine, she swallows visibly.

"I-I want to feel you. Every part of you. On me... And..." Another swallow. "... inside me."

She doesn't have to tell me twice.

Obeying to her words, my fingers start to roam her body - trailing from her chest, over her rib cage and her belly, all the way down. When my hand reaches the space between her legs, I lean in for another peck, then whisper, "Your wish is my command."

My free hand tangles in her hair, holding her face close to mine. I pull her towards me again, capturing her lips in another hungry, searing series of kisses, while my fingers get lost in her wetness. As I drag them through her folds and over her clit, she utters a low moan of approval.

"Yes, just like that," she breathes, and then, pleading against my lips, "Now take me."

I do as told, slowly sliding two fingers into her depths. She gasps, and when I start to thrust, I can feel the shiver of arousal course through her. The sensation, together with this sight of her, makes my center tight with want. But this is not about me.

I lean in to suck her neck again, then look up at her through my eyelashes when I feel her tighten around my fingers.

"What else do you need... Commander?"

The mention of her title makes her groan, yet not in an annoyed or dismissive way. Not at all! It's a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates from her body to mine. She takes another sharp breath—maybe for some extra confidence, maybe because she's simply out of air?—then answers in a hoarse, but surprisingly steady voice, "Make me come in your mouth."

The corners of my lips curl into a naughty grin and I wiggle my eyebrows.

"Now," she adds. It's hard to tell if it's a demand or a supplication. And honestly, I don't care.

As she holds my gaze, my body starts to slide down hers. When my knees hit the ground, I spread her thighs and nestle myself between them. I kiss the inside of her legs, teasingly brushing my lips against the soft skin, while my fingers keep stroking and pumping her heat. She whimpers again, effectively persuading me to give into her needs.

As my free hand reaches up, caressing her stomach and the swell of her breast, my mouth replaces my thumb. I can feel her quiver in response to the first touch of my tongue, and the taste of that new wave of arousal brings me close to losing it.

Swirling around her nub, I increase the pace of my thrusts. Meeting me halfway, Lexa arches her back and bucks against me, her hands now searching for just anything to hold onto. She finds my hair and curls her fingers into it, holding me close, as she starts moaning my name, over and over again.

"Clarke... Clarke... Oh... Clarke," she pants, not just uncontrollably, but also a little louder each time she calls for me. Feeling forced to leave the touch of her breast, I quickly reach up higher, while her encouragements keep hitting me in one staccato burst.

"Fuck... Clarke, I'm so... I'm gonna... I'm... I'm com—"

Right then the ball of my thumb finds her mouth - just in time to avoid a hell of a lot of tittle-tattle in the morning. As she clenches her eyes, her teeth dig deeply into my flesh, preventing her from screaming my name... or worse.

With my hand still close to her lips, I gently pull back the other one and watch her as the waves of pleasure and release crests through her body. How is it possible for someone to be this gorgeous and this hot at the same time?

Just when I realize I can look at her like this forever, she opens her eyes again. They immediately meet mine. Though still breathless, she smiles and pulls my face to hers, bringing our lips together again.

"That was insane," she smirks.

I pull a lopsided grin. "Insane good?"

"Insane great!" she laughs. "Exceptional, outstanding—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I join her laughter, though a little sheepishly. I've never been good with compliments. "I was just following orders, you know. Your orders. Seems to me you do still remember how to enjoy commanding."

"Ha, guess I do," she shrugs playfully, that devilish smile still on her lips as she winks, "And you sure know how to help reminding me. Including taking a bite!" She takes my hand and soothes the bite mark with her lips.

"Well, you know, sometimes you gotta take one for the team," I murmur, drawing another giggle from her. She shakes her head, showing me the biggest grin.

"Oh Clarke, the things you do for your people!"

With nothing left to say, I chuckle and lean in for more kisses, yet I miss her lips as she suddenly shivers.

"Shit, you must be freezing," I exclaim. I swiftly scramble to my feet and offer her my hand. "Come on, let's check out that bedroom. See what's behind curtain number one..."

She takes my hand and I pull her up from her throne, wrapping my arm around her to share the warmth of my fully clothed body.

Turning the corner, we find a queen-size bed covered with thick blankets and heavy fur.

"How?" Lexa sighs, "How did they manage to find all this stuff—"

"—and make it look just like before?" I finish her question in awe.

Still in my arms, she turns towards me. "You tired?"

"Hm," I hum, "Maybe a little. I'm not sure if I want to go to bed though."

A look of confusion overtakes her face. She frowns. "How's that?"

"I don't know," I mumble with my eyes on the floor. "I guess..." I shovel my foot through the dirt, then look up at her again. "I guess it just doesn't look very... attractive to me."

"Huh," she breaks into another laugh, "Is that so? Well, we can't have that, can we?"

Not waiting for my reply, her fingers swiftly find their way to the zipper of my jacket, which she pulls down with a sudden impatience.

"Now let's see how I can help you with that."

... ...

Chapter Text

I chicken out. Or actually no, that's not it. It isn't fear that withholds me.

It's reluctance.

It's still with me. Still in my blood, and in my veins. The Commander part of me. I feel it. I haven't forgotten any of the skills they taught me, nor the insights that were my own even before the spirit of my predecessor chose me - or so I used to believe. I still know how to fight, or to take charge, or to rule. I'm no longer ignoring that part, as that is—in the end—a part of me.

I just don't want to show it to three hundred people.

Not yet.

Which is why I get up even before sunrise and go to see Indra. Why I tell her to speak for me after I've left for Alexandria. To inform our people about my return, and about the orders I've given them. I will face them, all of them, in a few days, when we come back - hopefully as a member of a strong and protecting coalition.

A few days. It's not a lot. But I'll take it.

"No warpaint today?"

Magna's voice makes me break my stare from the road in front of me. I tilt my head to look at her. The left corner of my mouth slowly lifts into a slight smirk.

"We're not at war, are we?"

"True," she nods, "Though this doesn't really feel like peace either."

She bops her head towards Jesus, who's walking far ahead of us. He's talking with Yumiko, seemingly at ease.

We—Clarke, Madi, Raven and I—met them at the crack of dawn. We took the jeep, the one Echo and Raven used when they came for us at Oceanside. According to the washed-out letters on the side it's called Rover IV. Clarke told me it's a lot like the one she used to drive in her post-praimfaya days. I don't share those memories, but the armored vehicle still brought a smile to my face, as it's kind of a mini version of Al's truck. And boy, would she love this little clunker!

My smile faded when it turned out that the little rust bucket wasn't exactly made for seven people, meaning we were cramped in there and could hardly move for hours and hours. Things got even worse when we got a flat tire. It figured that the spare one was flat as well, which left us with no other choice than to leave Baby SWAT behind and continue on foot. According to Jesus, we were about ten miles away and could make it before the end of the day, as long as we didn't get into any trouble.

This was also the only thing he said to me all morning, and in all honesty: it was addressed to all of us.

"He's here," I point out, though no longer smiling. "That's a start."

"Guess so," she shrugs.

My eyes move back to the road as we keep walking next to each other, a silence falling between us as our minds travel elsewhere.

"So... how are you, now that it's been a couple of weeks?" I ask at last, looking at her again, "Are you finding some peace yet?"

She tilts her head to me, her eyes narrow. "Peace with who?"

"With yourself," I gently smile, "With... with Luna."

A sigh slips off her lips. "I'm working on it."

"And how's that going?"

"I don't know. Step by step? I mean, it's a fact right? It's the truth, and whether I like it or not, it's not gonna change with denying it. In the end it's all a matter of acknowledging it. Accepting it. Can't move on without taking that step, can we?"

I nod understandingly. "Learning to accept something can be a real bitch though."

She snorts. "Tell me about it!"

We share another chuckle, before she goes on, "This might sound weird, though maybe not to you, but this whole thing kinda feels familiar. Like some kind of déjà-vu."

This time I don't follow her. If there's one thing that never happened to either of us before, it's this. This... undeniable awareness of a previous life.

"How?" I frown.

Magna stuffs her hands in her pockets before lightly shrugging her shoulders again. "Ya know, like... coming out - to yourself most of all. Just like that, this is all about facing your truth, and accepting it, and... getting comfortable with it. Right?" She raises her brows.

I offer her a clumsy smile. "Honestly, I wouldn't really know," I say, almost apologetically. "I didn't had to deal with it. Not really, I mean. The first time around, well you know the world we lived in. Sexuality wasn't even a subject, it was pretty much just... whatever for everyone."

"Yeah," she grins in recognition, "no biggie."

"Exactly," I nod, "No one cared. And then, in this do-over..." My voice trails off when for the second time today my thoughts go to Al for a moment. I clear my throat. "Well, okay, yeah, there was some confusion. Or a lot, actually. But mainly because of the unexpectedness of it all. Because of the way those feelings hit me quite out of the blue. But by that time the world was already upside down, and caring about people's orientation seemed to have dropped to the bottom of basically everyone's priority list, so..."

Her eyes bear into mine. "Something tells me this isn't about Clarke?"

Recalling the moment Clarke walked back into my life, a sudden giggle escapes me.

"No," I shake my head, "With Clarke there was no time for confusion, or any other thought for that matter. One look, one blink of the eye, was enough to remember who she was, and more of: who she was to me. And with all that, who I was, and who I still am today."

With her eyes back on the horizon, she kicks a loose piece of asphalt off the road. "You're lucky," she just mumbles.

A flush of embarrassment creeps up my neck. "Magna, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to..." I stammer, "You were telling about you, and I completely took over, and—"

"It's okay," she cuts me off, flashing me a small, crooked smile to reassure me that it really is. "I like hearing what you've been up to. What life has been for the you I don't know, the you that must be in there somewhere. You're choosing a different path for yourself than me, or Jesus, and you can. You're free to. But..."

"What?"

"Nothing." She shakes her head. "I'm just glad you're not forgetting that you're more than you used to be. You're not just Lexa. Alicia's experiences, her thoughts and feelings, they deserve to exist. Alicia deserves to exist."

Not answering right away, I let her words sink in. "I know," I quietly nod at last.

Our eyes meet again and with a smile wider than before she winks, "Good."

"Seriously though, enough about me," I snigger, before quickly wiping the unfitting grin of my face, "You're saying your journey was more complicated?"

"Afraid so," she moans, "Think all the classic issues. Disapproving parents, lonely struggle, acting out behavior... Not the most original story, really."

"But your story nonetheless." I lightly nude her with my shoulder, "Thank you for sharing it."

She answers me by poking back at me, twice as hard, and almost making me trip over my own feet. When I regain my balance, I look at her again.

"Did you work it out? With your parents I mean?"

Without facing me, she shoves her hands deeper into her pockets. For a second she looks like she's trying to comfort herself, but then she suddenly straightens her back, looking as fierce as ever.

"Not exactly," she answers, "I ended up in jail before we got the chance. Not much later, hell broke loose and... well, here we are. With everyone dead, except for us."

A thousand more questions come to mind, but I feel like overstepping by asking her even one of them. Instead my eyes follow her gaze, that's now resting on Yumiko.

"You didn't just survive, Magna. You made it through. You really found yourself, somewhere along the way. And above that, in some miraculous way, you found Miko, too. In a god-forbidden place like this. That's something!"

She laughs at me.

She laughs like she laughed when we caught a rabbit and sneaked the poor thing into our dorm back in Polis. She laughs like that time when we fooled her brother into believing that all military horses were gonna be replaced by two-headed deer. Or the time we ditched Titus' boring history class to build a raft at the nearby lake, one that sank right in the middle of it - which I still believe was her favorite part of it all. She laughs like she used to laugh when she was my dearest friend. My Luna.

"It is, isn't it?" she smirks, "Though truth be told, we did meet shortly before the outbreak."

My forehead wrinkles as I attempt to solve the unspoken riddle. "She... was in jail, too?" I try, drawing another laugh from her.

"Worse," she grins, "She was my lawyer! My fresh-out-of-law-school lawyer. Trying yet not succeeding to get me out. At least not until everyone around us started dying and she showed up in that hellhole to take my hand and pull me out without asking anyone's permission - mainly because there was no one to ask anymore."

Magna tells her story like it's one big joke, but remembering my own experiences all too well, it doesn't take much to imagine how incredibly scary surviving an overrun prison must have been. Especially in those early days of the outbreak, when nobody really knew what was happening, or what to do. It's only because it's been years now that the lived horrors of those days can handle the lighter tone.

"She continues to deny it, but I strongly suspect that she created the virus herself just to get me out. You know, since those courthouse idiots wouldn't listen to her," she laughs, and I can't help but chuckle along.

Right then Yumiko looks over her shoulder to check on her girlfriend, smiles at her, then turns her eyes back to the road in front of her. The short but intimate moment between them is contagious, making me do the same.

I spin around, meeting Clarke's eyes straight away as I keep stepping backwards without slowing down. Hers light up, and I feel my whole face doing the same. We don't say anything, and not just because we're too far away from each other.

We just don't need to.

Turning back I peek at Magna again. "And now you're here," I conclude, "Standing strong, albeit with a whole new reality to deal with." My gaze flickers from her to Yumiko. "Have you told her any of it?"

She heaves another sigh, more heavy than before. "I want to," she quietly answers. She's not laughing anymore. "I really, really do. If I could think of any way how to make her believe all this. But I can't. There's no explanation, except the explanation that I've gone completely bonkers."

I nod without a word. It's the exact same reason why I didn't say anything to Strand, or Al, or any of the others. This is just beyond reason.

"There's not even some half-truth I can come up with," she goes on, "And I can't say nothing either, things are too weird for that already. With meeting you, and following you around not once, but twice now. So I lied. I lied to the one person I shouldn't lie to. Told her you're my second cousin, including that bullshit story we told Strand about your two names. I should be glad that she's buying it, but s—"

"WALKERS!"

Jesus' sudden, alarming voice makes us both jump into action within less than a breath. Scanning my surroundings, I briefly glance over my shoulder, relieved to see that his warning reached Clarke, Madi and Raven too. They're already running towards us, quickly closing the distance in between.

At the same time Jesus and Yumiko move backwards, away from the group of Walkers that keep making their way out of the thick bushes near the road where they'd just been walking - their weapons already at hand. I grasp at my hip for my barrel, only to remember it's not there anymore, then reach behind my back for my sword.

"Stay back!" I tell the others, and Madi in particular, although she has already drawn her own sword, looking like she's ready to slice some brains. We all turn around, only to catch more movement at that side of the road.

"At least ten more," I inform Jesus, who's now almost with us, "We're outnumbered!"

"What do we do?" Raven's voice is shaking, and I realize this must be her first real encounter with the living dead. I swiftly hand her my second sword.

"We fight," I tell her.

And so we do.

With two loudly gasping and grasping hordes, coming towards us from either side, we have no other choice than to split up. 

Magna, Madi and I face the walkers coming from the north. Clarke, Raven and Jesus focus on the ones attacking from the south. Yumiko, in the meantime, shoots her arrows in every direction needed; north, south, and soon also west, as another bunch of walkers start to show up from there, too.

The only relatively safe side is on our east... but that's only because there's an abyss.

I lift my sword above my head. It's heavy, way heavier than my gun barrel, but somewhat to my surprise it feels just as familiar. The grip fits my hand as if it's made for it, and when I swing it down, it cuts through the air like I trained for this my whole life - which I guess I did.

I'm not the only one who knows how to handle a sword though. Before I get the chance to strike, Madi suddenly passes me and beheads the first walker in her path. When he goes down, two others appear from behind him. We don't hesitate: as soon as they take another step toward us, their ugly heads hit the concrete; one by my sword, the other by Madi's.

“Damn!” Magna swears out loud, as she kicks a third one down with her boot. She shoots me a quick glance. "Sure she's not yours?" 

We keep making our way forward, stabbing even more biters through their skulls, when I hear Jesus shout again, "The head! Aim for the head!"

"You guys okay?" I cry out over my shoulder while pulling back my bloodstained weapon to stab it deep into yet another staggering corpse. When nobody answers, I take the risk to turn around.

The four of them are spread out, a little too far for my liking. They're fighting off anything that comes toward them. Yumiko and Raven are still on the road, but Clarke and Jesus are now both on the small field next to it, taking down every walker that stumbles out of the woods. They seem in control, but the dead ones keep coming and coming.

"Go!" Magna yells. "We take the last ones over here!"

I'm already running.

"Save your bullet, I've got this one," Jesus tells Clarke when I'm almost with them. Avoiding some nasty jaws, he breaks the guy's neck with his bare hands, showing me he still has the skills I once taught him - and then some. There's no time to watch him however. Five more walkers appear.

I step towards them and take two of them down with my sword. Clarke shoots the other three, creating a pile of fallen cadavers. We stand motionless, our gaze fixed on the tree line, until we're sure that no more walkers appear. That's when we finally look at each other.

A death silence has fallen over us.

It's over. We've got them all.

We quickly rejoin the others on the road. Just like us, everyone is covered in blood and other grossness, leaning on either their knees or each other, and trying to catch their breath.

"That... That was..." Panting heavily, Raven stands up straight and looks around her, her eyes gliding over dozens of corpses all around us. "...surreal!"

Yumiko squints her eyes. "You're saying you've nev—"

"Madi, watch out!!"

Clarke's chilling shriek makes me spin around, right in time to watch her take a huge leap toward Madi. She pushes her backwards, away from one of the walkers on the ground, one that somehow survived and now tries to grab her feet.

Madi tumbles to the middle of the road before he gets a hold on her, but the force of the back pressure makes Clarke struggle with her balance, too. She stumbles, trips over her feet...

... and disappears into the abyss behind her.

"Clarke!!" I scream, yet her cry drowns out mine.

I run to the edge and peek over it, relieved to see that it's not too deep and that she's all alone down there. But the feeling doesn't last long. The painful grimace on her face tells me something is wrong - very wrong.

Without giving it a second thought, I hand my sword to Magna and lower myself down in the abyss. As I carefully slide down—using rocks and roots to keep from falling—the loose dirt sticks to the blood on my hands and clothes. I couldn't care less.

"Clarke," I exhale once again as soon as I'm with her, "What's going on? Did you hurt yourself?"

She whimpers and moves her hands to her knee, yet winces the moment she touches it.

"It's my leg," she groans. "I think I broke it."

... ...

Chapter Text

"You broke it? Are you sure?!" Her eyes widen with panic and concern.

"Pretty sure," I grumble through my teeth, "I heard a crack."

Moving close, she shoves her hands underneath the leaves around me, frantically running her fingers through the dirt. "Maybe it was a branch," she pants.

"Lex," I moan, as another shot of pain shoots through my body, "it wasn't a branch."

She holds still and her eyes find mine again. I take her hand and direct it to my shin, right below my knee. Her hand hovers over it, holding back, until I give her a small, encouraging nod. That's when she touches me, hesitant and impossibly light. I bite my teeth nonetheless.

"You feel that bump? That's my bone."

She withdraws her hand like she just burned it. Or maybe because she's afraid she'll burn me with it. Her face twists. I know that look. She can deal with pain like no other. She can cause it without a blink, too. But seeing it in the eyes of a loved one... that always kills her.

"I need to get out of here," I tell her. I know I'm stating the obvious, but forcing us to come up with some plan feels like the only way to keep it together right now.

"Y-Yeah," she stammers, glancing around, and then up. The abyss is about eight feet deep. Madi, Raven and Jesus are standing on the edge, looking down on us - their faces as worried as Lexa's. "Can you move? Except for your leg, I mean?" she asks.

I answer her by sitting up a little, which I can't do without making my leg move as well. I wince, trying to fight the sharp sting of tears behind my eyes.

"I'm afraid I have to," I breathe. "I can't stand though, or walk in any way."

"It's not that far anymore. Less than two miles." Looking at us over his shoulder, Jesus carefully lowers himself down. "I can carry you, but I can tell you: it's gonna hurt."

Lexa takes my hand and squeezes it tight. Her eyes move down my body again. "We need to secure your leg."

I open my mouth to answer, but before I can say anything, I am distracted by the sound of a thud right next to me. I turn my head to look at my side. It's a leg brace.

"Raven!" I exclaim. Looking up, I catch her sitting on the ground, leaning on her palms to peek over the edge. "I-I can't take that. You won't be able to—"

"Shut up, will you," she briskly cuts me off. "You're attracting Frankenstein's pets."

"But you can't walk without your brace," I keep protesting. "Let's just... find some sticks, or something."

Raven's sigh is so loud I can hear it all the way down here. "Lexa, can you like... work your magic and keep her quiet for a sec? I'm serious, I'm done fighting these creeps! Just secure that leg and get her to Alexandria. Once there, one of you can make a run and bring it back to me."

"She's right, you can't waste time now." It's Magna, appearing in my field of vision with Yumiko right behind her. "We will stay here with Raven," she states, continuing in a softer tone when she notes the concern in my eyes, "We'll keep her safe."

I exhale, then nod a go-ahead to Lexa. She picks up Raven's brace and carefully fixates my leg with it.

"We might need to get you something to bite on," Jesus remarks as he watches my face contorts by her touch.

"I'm fine," I lie, "Just... let's get this over with."

He nods and steps closer, taking Lexa's place. "Alright. Just know this first part will be hell. Your weight won't be such a problem, but I need both hands to climb out of here. Which means I have to carry you on my back, with you holding on to me."

For some reason my mind suddenly goes to the immense satellite tower I once had to climb. I might not have been injured back then, but I remember it being a hell of a job for my arms.

"I can handle it," I tell him as much as myself.

He turns around and lowers himself, while Lexa helps me up and onto his back. As soon as he feels my arms around his neck, he moves to the rather steep slope of the abyss, grabs one of the roots sticking out from the dirt and starts pulling himself up.

The pain in my leg as we move is excruciating and I'm on the verge of screaming, which I know will cause a whole lot of new problems, so instead I hold on even tighter - almost strangling Jesus in his way up. I'd tell him sorry if I could only remember how to form words.

I can tell he's strong, but that he's struggling nevertheless, with the loose sand slipping underneath his feet. But he's not alone in this. Once halfway he meets the reaching hands of Magna and Yumiko, who are both lying flat on their stomachs. With their help, the second part goes slightly smoother, and not much later we're back on the road.

Lexa swiftly follows and helps me down, together with the others. They give Jesus a minute to catch his breath, then cautiously hand me over to him again. Holding me like a groom who's about to carry his bride across the threshold, he turns around and starts to walk.

Alexandria's doorstep is waiting.

Madi and Lexa make sure to stay close, one of them on each side of us and with their swords still at the ready in case more problems show up. Fortunately though we're spared this time.

After what feels like forever, yet probably not more than thirty minutes later, we reach the outer wall of a settlement that actually looks like a small village.

I can see the roofs of stone build houses, and even the blades of a windmill. The welcome sign next to the gate tells us that we have reached a so-called Safe Zone, which feels reassuring, yet the facial expression of the woman that's coming to meet us is not exactly inviting. But how can I blame her, considering we're covered in blood and swinging swords?

Lexa and Madi must share my thoughts, since they both quickly lower their weapons as the woman draws closer.

"God, you've been saving damsels in distress again?" she moans as soon as reaches us.

"Let's keep my dear father out of it," Jesus replies. His bright laughter surprises me. It doesn't just tell me he might actually get us in without too much trouble, it's also the very first time I actually hear it. "It's good to see you too, Rosita," he goes on with a smile in his voice.

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes. "So who did you bring?"

"These are Clarke, Lexa and Madi. They are—" He hesitates for a moment. "They are old acquaintances of mine. They've been staying at Oceanside, but are now escorting yet another friend of theirs. Some girl who wants to meet Eugene."

An unexpected chuckle falls from her lips. "Voluntarily?!"

Jesus laughs along. "What, isn't he your friend?"

"He sure is, but only because I know his manual." Her eyes move to me. "So what's up with you?" 

"I broke my leg, about two miles back," I answer with great difficulty. By now even talking hurts.

She just nods, before looking at Jesus again.

"Is Siddiq around?" he asks her.

"Let's find out," she answers, already turning around, yet continuing over her shoulder, "No weapons though. You can all leave them at the gate for now."

We follow Rosita through the gate, where we hand over our weapons to one of the guards. I really want to find out more about this place, since it looks surprisingly appealing, but right now I feel I just need to lay down. Thank god they don't decide to linger.

As we make our way to this Siddiq-guy, I learn he's the doctor in town, and when we get there, we're in luck as he's actually at home. He leads us into his office, where Jesus gently lays me down on the examination table. He doesn't give himself a well-deserved break though. As soon as the brace comes off my leg, he picks it up and steps backwards.

"I'm off getting the others," he tells Lexa on his way out. "Don't worry, she's in good hands here."

He's gone before we can even say bye... or thank you.

"What's your name?"

I turn my head to the man standing next to me. He's got a pair of scissors in his hand, but doesn't move just yet.

"Clarke," I groan in response.

"I'm Siddiq," he says, "Can I take a look?" Clenching my jaw, I force myself to nod. I watch him as he starts to cut open my pants. He has an olive-colored skin, brown almond-shaped eyes and a warm smile. I decide to like him straight away.

When my leg is fully exposed, he looks up again. "So, what happened exactly?"

Not sure how to deal with the whole talking part any longer, I draw in a deep breath. Right then Lexa comes to my rescue. She steps closer, gingerly resting her hand on my shoulder.

"She tripped and fell into an abyss," she explains on my behalf, "About seven or eight feet deep. She thinks she broke her leg. There." She points at the large, bruised swelling below my knee, then takes my hand. "Right?"

I just nod, squeezing her fingers as Siddiq starts to examine my leg.

"I can't make any x-rays, but by the looks of it I think you're right. Your skin is still intact, which is good, but that doesn't mean you didn't hurt yourself." He tilts his head, his eyes moving between the two of us. "Looks like a greenstick fracture to me."

"Can you fix it?" Lexa asks.

Siddiq looks pensive. "Well, I can set it and put a splint on. Give you some pain medication for the first days. But it's mainly up to you. Your leg's gonna need rest - a lot of it. Four weeks at least, maybe five or six. Which means that whatever your plans are, you can most likely forget about them."

"Six weeks," Lexa gasps. "But we need to get back. People are waiting for us."

"Well, I can't talk for you and the kid, but Clarke here really shouldn't travel," he shrugs.

As I let his words sink in, I instinctively tighten my grip on Lexa's hand. Our eyes meet.

"We're not splitting up," she states, "There's no way."

He lifts his shoulders again.

"Alright. Guess you're gonna have to stay here then." He gives a brief flicker of a smile. "That is, if they'll let you."

... ...

Chapter Text

Dr. Eugene Porter is a rather big guy, but other than that he looks to me like he won't hurt a fly - or at least he doesn't like to. He has a soft expression in his eyes and his braid makes him look a little goofy, but as soon as we start talking about the research I've set my hope on, I realize I should not underestimate this man's brain.

As I tell him about the nightblood and how it seems to work as a vaccine for the virus this world has been dealing with for far too long now, he listens with great interest and asks me the right kind of questions. The way he formulates them, well yeah, that's kind of... special. But I do get the feeling that this man might actually be able to help.

"Long story short," I wrap up my introduction, "I want to learn more. And for that I'm looking for some kind of lab, and a sparring partner to work with. Would that be something you're interested in?"

Seemingly without second thought, he nods. "That would be an affirmative, Miss. Strictly speaking I am no biologist, but if you have no qualms with that, I believe my gained knowledge on the matter should be sufficient to assist you on this scientific quest."

"Great!" I cheer. When I flash him a smile, he doesn't smile back, and I immediately wonder if he knows how to. "So, how about that lab?"

I take a look around me. This place is the nicest I've seen since we hit the ground, but it doesn't even reach the size of a small village. It's a neighborhood at most, and it's hard to imagine an actual lab around here. On the other hand, things could be hidden underground. It's not that I've never seen that before.

"If a laboratory is what you're promised, I need to disillusion you. I can offer you no such workplace. I do however know where to find one, up in D.C. That's the nearest city from here," he adds, explaining. "I found it a while back during a scavenger hunt. It's all there, from small equipment to computers and substantial machineries. I can't tell you if things still work though, since the place has been without electricity for years."

"But you've got power here, don't you?"

"Some, yes," he nods, his face still stoic, "We've got solar panels and generators. But the amount of energy that they produce is not enough for these kind of apparatuses."

I narrow my eyes. "So you left it all there?"

"The big stuff, yes. But I did bring some implements that can help us make a start. A microscope, for instance. And pipettes and test tubes. Some flasks, beakers and cylinders. Sundry liquids and acids. A pH meter and some other limited-sized gadgetry. A Bunsen bur—"

"You carried all that here with you?" I interrupt him, feeling like he could go on forever if I don't.

He shrugs. "I am a big fellow. I carry a big backpack."

"I bet your friends weren't too happy with your choices."

"They were not, Miss. The kids liked that burner though." Wait, is that a tinge of a smile? Nah, probably not. "Until we were out of marshmallows."

He clears his throat. "Anywise, with your consent I would like to take a better look at the atypical blood you mentioned. It simply cannot look different from the exterior alone."

For a moment my mind goes to the Flame, that's burning in my pocket and screams my name, now that I know there are computers somewhere within reach. I haven't told Dr. Porter about this part just yet, as I want to keep my promise to Lexa, and I do have to agree that I share his curiosity about nightblood. It really wouldn't be the worst to start with that.

"We would need multiple samples, since there might be multiple blood types around - just like with normal blood," he already goes on, drawing my attention back to him. "How many sources do you have available?"

"Right now?" Frowning, I make the count in my head. Lexa, Clarke, Madi and I are all Nightbloods nowadays. Magna and Jesus used to be. For that reason alone, I would really love to see how their blood looks like these days. To find out if there are still some traces from before, deeply hidden in their cells maybe. "Four," I answer him, "Maybe six."

"And everyone wants to cooperate?"

"I... don't know, actually," I answer him. I lean back in my porch chair and stare ahead, thinking about his question, and the fact that I haven't asked any of them yet. Not that I don't expect any issues with Madi, Clarke or Lexa, or even Magna, who's been very helpful so far. But Jesus seems a bit off at times, and after hearing about his history, it's not hard to sympathize with him, or his choices. I shake my head, snapping myself out of my thoughts, and abruptly jump up. 

"Only one way to find out, right?"

... ...

A little to my surprise and a lot to my relief, everyone agrees to give us some of their blood, including Jesus. His only condition is that we do it right away, since he wants to return to Hilltop at sunrise.

As there is still some time and Dr. Porter has all the equipment we need, this is no problem. We get our six samples, and decide to start our research first thing in the morning.

I spend the rest of the night settling in the house Lexa quickly arranged for us - apparently without any difficulties, since she basically only had to inform the people in charge that it was actually our group that defeated those Whisperers. Of course they wanted to hear more, and I know for sure Lexa wanted to negotiate with them about many other things as well, but that can all wait. After all, it's been a long day, and besides, she has a girlfriend to take care of.

The next morning, after at least ten hours of sleep in the most comfy beds since forever, Jesus leaves Alexandria as planned—together with Magna and Yumiko—and I go look for my new co-worker.

We start right after dawn and work side by side for hours, not stepping one foot outside our cobbled together laboratory. I'm not even aware that the sun is already setting until Madi comes over to get me for dinner. I can't remember having worked this focused since the days I spent in Becca's lab.

But enough is enough. There's more in this world than science.

"So what have you been up to all day?" I ask Madi as I close the door behind me and we start our way home together.

"I met some of the people who live here," she answers me. "A few of them are actually my age. Or well, kind of."

I briefly look at her and our eyes meet. Hers are laughing, and I realize I haven't seen her this happy and at ease in a long time. Maybe never.

"That's great," I smile. "What did you do?"

"Not that much. I needed to be at the house, for Clarke. Lexa had another meeting all afternoon. Turns out they have some kind of council here."

"Sounds official. And also like a lot of debating and parleying. You miss being part of that yet?"

I look at her again, right when she lightly jumps of the sidewalk and back on it.

"Are you kidding me?!" she laughs. "There's a girl here who owns a katana. We're gonna draw swords tomorrow. You know how much better that is than talking politics?"

Without slowing our pace, I nudge her with my shoulder. "To me, everything is!"

We reach our front door and step inside, where the smell of diner welcomes us. The very, very nice smell. I raise my brows. "Who cooked?"

"I did," Lexa answers from behind us. I turn around, right when she steps out of the kitchen. My eyes widen.

"You?"

"Does that surprise you?" She folds her arms and cocks her head, lifting the corner of her mouth just a bit. I think that she's teasing me, but I do feel a little intimidated nonetheless.

Subconsciously I mirror her pose. "You didn't strike me as a housewife, that's all."

"Well, to be honest, I did use my dagger to cut the tomatoes," she grins, and then we both break into laughing.

"There you go," I chuckle. "It smells delicious, by the way."

She thanks me by showing me another smile, then turns around to return to the kitchen. "Now let's hope that's how it tastes as well," she says over her shoulder, before pointing at a pile of plates. "Can you bring those to Clarke? We're eating in the living, so she doesn't have to leave the couch."

I pick up four plates and some cutlery and make my way to the living room, where Clarke is indeed installed on the sofa.

"How are you?" I ask her, while setting the coffee table.

"Still in pain and now also bored," she groans. She sits up without moving her leg, then gives me some kind of half-smile. "But, also grateful to be here. Did you see the food Lexa got for us?"

I sit down in one of the fauteuils. "Not yet. But my nose tells me it's good."

"Oh, it's good! Fresh vegetables, huge potatoes, and even some meat," she cheers. "It comes with a price though."

"We gotta pay for it? With what?!"

"With helping out. Just like we had to do in Oceanside," she explains, although I know squat about Oceanside.

I narrow my eyes. "You're saying we're getting jobs?"

"We're getting jobs?!" Madi echoes me before Clarke can answer.

"You don't," Clarke sets her straight. "As long as we're staying here, you're going to school. We're told that there are about twenty kids in Alexandria, and they've got someone teaching them."

Madi shoots up straight. "But I was gonna—"

"There's no discussion here, Madi," Clarke cuts her off.

My eyes find Madi's and I wink at her. "Still happy?" I whisper.

Her grumble is drowned out by Lexa's entry. She's holding a large pan. "I hope everyone likes stew," she says from behind the steam rising from it.

We fill our plates and quickly dig in.

"Okay," I gasp, my mouth still half full, and pointing toward my plate with my fork, "this is really good. And I'm not just saying that because I once had to eat algae for six years straight!"

After Clarke and Madi both agree wholeheartedly, we eat in silence for a little while, until I break the peace and quiet again once my plate is almost empty. "So about those jobs... you guys know I came here for science, right? Which is also kind of job. One that's actually about our future."

"I know," Lexa nods, shifting forward to refill our plates with the leftover stew without asking. "But with Clarke being unable to get up and Madi in school, I had to assent with you helping out at least a few hours a day."

"Doing what?"

"Making sure we don't run out of tomatoes," she grins. "You're now officially part of the kitchen garden staff."

"I'm... I'm what?!" I exclaim while trying to ignore Clarke and Madi's laughter. "I don't know anything about gardening! I'm from space, remember? I'm serious, there must be other jobs around. Don't they have a mechanic who needs a hand?"

Lexa shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says, though I'm sure she isn't.

"Look at it this way," Clarke hiccups, wiping the tears from her eyes, "At least you'll be getting your hands dirty again."

"You're all having way too much fun about this," I mutter. "Just don't come crying to me when I ruin every carrot out there!"

Clarke stretches her arm to put her now empty plate back on the table, which makes her wince for a short second—imagine asking any of us for some help!—and looks up at me. "Raven, you'll be fine. There are plenty of people out there who can tell you what to do."

I set my plate on top of hers, then settle back in the cushions of my chair. "Ordering me around, you mean? Thanks, but no thanks."

"Hey, I can help you. You know, after school," Madi suddenly suggests. "Clarke and I used to have a vegetable garden when we lived in the Valley. I think I remember a thing or two, despite our endless nap."

I crack a smile, not able to keep up my grumpy act any longer. "Thanks kid, but I need you to go and have some fun. Try out that ke- ka-... that sword you talked about."

At the mention of the sword, Lexa shifts in her seat. "You met Michonne's kid?" she asks Madi.

Madi nods. "I did. Her name is Judith. You know her mom?"

"Yeah, I do," Lexa nods as well, "She's on the council. I just joined her security team." She turns to look at me. "Unless you want to trade jobs?"

I open my mouth to answer her, but don't get the chance, as the sound of someone knocking on our front door, followed my some immediate footsteps, makes us all look at the hallway.

It's Dr. Porter.

I stand up to meet him halfway. "What's going on? Is there something wrong?"

"Why would there be?" he asks, sounding just as befuddled as me.

Not able to help myself, I pull a face. "I don't know, maybe because you're storming in here like there's a huge fire somewhere?"

His face flushes. "Forgive my manners, Miss. I just wanted to share some results with you."

"Please, just call me Raven," I tell him, ignoring the chuckles behind me once again. "And it's okay. Just... take a chair, tell me what you found."

He does as told and joins us around the coffee table.

"Well, it's not a whole lot yet. We are obviously dealing with some very complicated matter, and I'm going to need a lot more time to fully understand it. But what has already been shown is that, just as with known matter, here too are clear traces of kinship. And it's in th—"

"Wait!" I interrupt him, "That... doesn't make any sense."

"Why not?"

"Because none of our test subjects are related," I tell him, while my mind already starts to race. Was I wrong about this guy? Am I wasting my time here?

A nervous cough escapes him. "I dislike having to disagree with you on the very first day of our collaboration, but results show us that two of them are. Siblings, to be specific."

When I stay quiet, too perplexed for a moment by this new information, Clarke speaks up.

"Raven, what is he talking about?" she asks me, but Lexa beats me in answering her.

"He's saying two out of the six of us are related by blood. Family, so to speak. So the real question should be: who is he talking about?"

Full of anticipation, we all stare at Dr. Porter again. For a moment he just glances back at us. Yet when he seems to realize we're waiting for his clarification, he coughs again and quickly goes on.

"Oh right, specifics. According to these results, we can say with a certainty of one hundred percent that test subjects two and three are sisters."

"Test subjects two and three?" Lexa cries out, "Who the hell are test subjects two and three?!"

I turn around to face her again. It's hard to tell if she looks bewildered or enthusiastic. Maybe it's neither, or maybe it's both?

I take a deep breath.

"Subjects two and three," I slowly answer her, "are you and Madi."

... ...

Chapter Text

"Test subjects two and three? Who the hell are test subjects two and three?!"

I know I'm close to yelling. Which means I know I'm close to losing control. I hate that.

Taking a sharp breath as if to prepare herself, Raven turns to me. "Subjects two and three..." she answers, "are you and Madi."

I stare at her, wide-eyed and with words sticking in my throat. A thousand thoughts cross my mind, all at once, hitting me like a hurricane.

Everyone else keeps quiet, too. As if they're all waiting for me. Even Madi, who's equally concerned with this. Madi, who's my... my...

No!

"This can't be true," I finally manage to say.

"Again, it is," Dr. Porter contradicts me, "Science doesn't lie, Miss."

"Why can't this be true?" Clarke swiftly comes in between. Her voice is slightly raised, telling me she wants to avoid some endless yes-or-no argument between me and this professor guy, most likely for my sake.

"Because I'm born here, and she..." I start to explain, as my eyes fly between her and the others, until they're suddenly back on the stranger in the room. I falter. "... and she's... not."

He leans forward a little, his arms folded and with this blank look on his face that I'm not able to read. "I didn't claim you two are twins," he clarifies himself. "You are clearly of different age. Being born on the other side of the world doesn't make you any less—"

"Raven!" I harshly interrupt him, my voice still high and my eyes now deeply boring into hers. She nods, and as she turns towards him I let out a heavy breath, relieved that for once she understands me straight away.

"Dr. Porter, thanks for the update, but I think you'd better go now," she tells him before he gets the chance to continue his explanation. "I'll see you tomorrow at the lab." She gets up as to direct him towards the door. A soft, uncomfortable cough escapes him as he follows her example.

"Of course," he mutters. "I understand. Family matters."

While Raven leads him out, I drop myself backwards onto the fluffy pillows of my fauteuil.

"He's wrong," I say again, yet this time to no one in particular. "There's just no way."

"But—"

"No but, Madi! He doesn't know about the two planets, but we do. We can't ignore that fact. Some things are just not possible."

Not at all to my surprise, Madi jumps up from her chair, agitated by my certainty.

"Right. Like being born a hundred years later and growing into the exact same person you were before!"

"Madi!" Clarke's voice sounds sudden and loud, but her eyes—now locked with Madi's—are calm and searching for understanding.

"I see you guys are still questioning this latest revelation?"

Raven's return in the room makes me look up at her. I watch how she sits back in the seat she just left, seemingly unfazed. I frown. "What? You aren't?"

"Are you kidding me?" she laughs. "Have you seen the two of you? The way you look, the way you act? Hell, even the way you fight! The only question I have is why no one came up with this before."

I heave another sigh. "Raven, I'm born here. As Alicia! I simply can not be related to anyone born there."

"Well, it looks like you can, since you're clearly made of the exact same DNA as you were the first time around - the DNA that makes you Madi's family."

"And how do we know that? How do we know it's the exact same?"

She raises her brows, looking as confident as she sounds - which annoys the crap out of me. "Ever looked into a mirror?"

Shaking my head in frustration, I draw in a long breath. "So I kind of look the same—"

"You look exactly the same!" Raven cries out. "At least for the parts I've seen."

I open my mouth to fight her, but Clarke beats me to it by clearing her throat, making us both look at her.

"Yeah, I can tell you that's also the matter for those parts you haven't seen. Head to toe, and literally every inch in between," she quietly adds, not able to hide a little sparkle in her eyes, and making Madi cover her ears in disgust.

"Ugh, gross!" she exclaims, drawing another loud laugh from Raven.

I'd chuckle along if I wasn't this worked up about all this. Instead I focus on Raven again, not willing to give up this easily. "There are differences, you know. I lost some marks—"

"Like what? Scars? Tattoos?"

"To start with, yes."

She perks up and slides forward on her chair, laying her hand on the armrest of mine. "Lexa, you know those things have nothing to do with your DNA. You just gained them along the way."

My gaze lingers on her hand for a moment, until I break it to look at Clarke again. She shrugs her shoulders, like she's telling me she doesn't know either.

But I'm not finished.

"Alright, then tell me this," I go on, my eyes back on Raven. "You're saying I'm born with the exact same DNA. Fine, let's say I am. Yet the blood, and thus the DNA, you've been examining is the blood I received from Madi. Or whoever my particular donor was. It's not mine. In fact, when you look into it, I bet we're all related now."

Boom! Checkmate!

Raven doesn't blink though. "You're right," she speaks up after a few seconds of silence. Of course I knew that already, which is why I'm about to smug at her, but right then she strikes again. "The first couple of days after the transfusion that would be the case. Based on our blood, we'd all be related. But you're just thinking about the white blood cells. The red blood cells don't carry DNA. And then there's the fun fact of our bodies producing new blood cells after the transfusion, containing our original DNA. So by this time—"

"Okay, I'm officially lost!" Madi cries out as she steps forward and takes a seat on the coffee table, her eyes flicking between Raven and me. "No more jokes. And please no more scientific blabla. Just the truth... Are we really sisters?"

After one more look at me, Raven gently pats the kid's knee, then slowly nods. "You really are."

"That's so cool!" Madi cheers. Her face lights up with an enormous smile. "Lexa, isn't that—"

"No, it's not!" I snap as I get up from my seat, no longer able to control my restless body. "It's not cool, Madi. It's not... It's..."

"Alright, you two: out! Now!"

Clarke's voice makes me spin around again. Her eyes aren't on me though.

"What? Why?" Raven questions her.

Clarke sits up straight, trying to ignore the pain she's clearly experiencing. The pain even we can feel, as it's clouding her face with every move. Pointing at me, she tells her friend, "Because this one is about to storm out and I'm not able to follow her. So you have to go." And then, continuing in a softer tone, "You too, Madi. We'll talk more soon. I promise."

Both Raven and Madi get up without any further discussion, which feels like a first, and leave us alone. When we hear the sound of the door closing behind them, Clarke speaks up again.

"I don't care if you sit with me or keep pacing around, but I need you to listen."

I choose the latter, but as I keep stepping through the room, my eyes do find hers. I shortly nod. She's got my attention.

"You can not talk to Madi like that," she starts in a calm, yet stern voice.

I abruptly stand still. I don't know why, but with everything going on in my head, I just didn't expect this to be about Madi. Which was wrong, I realize now, since this is of course just as much about her as it is about me.

"You hurt her. You're so caught up on yourself you didn't even notice. But you completely dismissed her, and her feelings," Clarke goes on.

I did, didn't I?

"I'm sorry," I mumble, "I'll fix it. I will."

Another silence falls upon us. With my eyes stuck on the floor I bite my lip, not able to move any more, except for shifting my weight from one leg to the other. I can hear how Clarke exhales, but it doesn't make me look up.

"What's going on?" she quietly asks.

I don't answer her, and except for digging my teeth even deeper into my bottom lip I don't move. I simply don't remember how to.

"Please talk to me," she pleads, "Tell me what's upsetting you." Her voice sounds more and more desperate. The fact that she can't get to me must be killing her. I don't want that. I don't want her to feel this way.

I blink, then make myself walk over to her and take a seat on the edge of the couch right by her side. As soon as I do she takes my hand in hers. Swallowing, I finally manage to find my voice.

"Who am I?" I ask her.

A small frown creases her forehead. "Is that a philosophical question?"

"No, a real one. A serious one," I answer her. "Both you and Luna keep reminding me that I'm not just Lexa. 'What about Alicia? Don't forget about Alicia...' Like that's really necessary. Like I could actually forget for even a second who I used to be, and who I still am. Who my parents are. Who my brother is."

Her frown grows deeper. "Okay. So, then why this question?"

"Because... Because what's left of all that if that DNA theory is true? If I don't share anything with my parents, or with Nick? Who does that make me? Except for a girl who lived a long time ago, and now got a do-over with a different name?"

She squeezes my hand. A reassuring gesture, as she must be aware that my breathing is rapidly quickening.

"Hey, your DNA doesn't make you any less of their daughter. Madison and Steven are your parents. They raised you, cherished you, took care of you. Sweetie, Alicia is not just a name. Alicia is you, and you are you because of them. Not because of anything that happened to you a lifetime ago."

I sigh. "I don't want to deny them."

"You don't have to," she quietly assures me. Her thumb starts to stroke the back of my hand; gently, but with enough pressure to distract me from my racing heart.

"Then why does it feel like it," I whisper. "Why does it feel like I let them down if I accept Madi as my sister. If I accept not being half hers, and half his?"

Clarke shakes her head. "I don't know," she answers truthfully, "Your feelings are not mine to explain. I just know you're not letting anybody down. You didn't choose any of this."

"I didn't, huh? That's funny actually, cause it sure feels to me like my entire life is about choices." Noting the sudden sarcasm in my own voice, I avert my eyes from her, mumbling a quick apology beneath my breath. She's really trying to understand and deserves a lot more than this.

"You want to know who you are?" she goes on like nothing just happened. "You are Lexa kom Trikru. And you are also Alicia Clark. You are a former army commander, trying to unite the world. And you are also a former high school student, trying to survive the end of the world. You are a loyal friend. To Luna, to Indra, to Al, to Strand. To anyone you know deserves your support, and your friendship." She squeezes my hand again, making me look at her. "You are the love of my life. You are Nick's sister - and he will always, always be your brother. Nothing that happened in the past hour can change that. You hear me?"

The lump in my throat forces me to just nod.

"The only thing that changed is the knowledge that now you have a sister, too. And I don't know if you've noticed yet," she goes on, as her lips curl into the smallest grin, "but she's pretty great. Which, to me, makes perfect sense." She leans towards me, as if to share a secret, ignoring her own discomfort once again. "She really does look like her big sis."

A light chuckle falls from my lips, despite my confusion and the heavy sack of emotions. "Wow, you're sure you don't wanna take some credits there?"

"Not today," she winks, and for a moment we just keep our eyes locked without saying anything else. My smile fades away as quickly as it showed though.

Clarke takes another deep breath and looks at me inquisitively. "There's more, isn't there?"

I blink, breaking our gaze, and pull away my hand. Resting my elbows on my knees, I drop my head into the palms of my hands. I close my eyes.

"Lexa?"

I feel her hand on my shoulder, but don't lean into her touch. "Forget it," I mumble, "it's childish."

"I bet it isn't," she tells me, "but let's decide about that after you told me. Come here."

Her hand slides further up, towards the base of my neck, which I know is out of her reach and will hurt her for sure. Which is also why I resist the urge to walk away again and give in - though with a small sigh of defeat, which she pretends not to hear.

I lay down on my side, where her arms are waiting for me. They offer a comfort I didn't know I needed. We shift around a bit until she's spooning me from behind in a way that doesn't make us fall off the couch. I close my eyes again, seeking shelter in this little world that's just ours.

"You are hurt," she says when I stay quiet. It's not even a question.

My lip trembles, but this time I don't bite it.

"They didn't even try." My voice is so thin, I doubt if she can hear me. But she doesn't ask me to speak up louder, and now that I've started, I don't know how to stop anymore. "All my life I told myself that they didn't had a choice," I go on. "That only the bravest try to find a way out, and you can't expect anyone to be that brave. And you can't be... you can't be angry with someone for not being that brave. But Madi's parents were. They tried, and they succeeded. They did that for her."

My chest tightens and I feel hot tears burning my eyes. I swallow to hold them back.

"Don't," Clarke softly breathes, "Don't fight them."

I gasp, and as I do, the tears come out, together with more words. "They did that for her, Clarke. And I'm glad. I'm glad that they did. But..."

With my voice stuck in my throat again, I can't finish. I don't have to, though. I have Clarke.

"But they didn't do that for you," she whispers.

"They didn't," I cry, half aware that there are tears coming out I never knew were in there. "Why didn't they? Why didn't they choose me? Why didn't they protect me?"

She holds me tighter, rocking me back and forth within our limited space.

"I don't know, love. I really don't. They should have, and who knows they tried? The only thing we do know is that they lost. They lost you. Their baby girl. Barely three years old. And maybe, just maybe, that's exactly what made them brave - in the end?"

I turn around in her arms, careful not to hurt her, and look into her eyes. I don't find any bullshit in them, just compassion. She gently presses her lips against my forehead, then continues as I silently nestle my face in the crook of her neck, "They had to watch you grow up from afar, knowing there were only two options for you. Two options no parent wants for their child. It must have killed them. So how could they go through all of that again when they gave birth to not just another child, but another Nightblood?"

"So, they learned from their loss," I mumble against her skin. "What does that leave me?" 

"Nothing," she admits. "Except that it wasn't all for nothing. It saved Madi's life." She kisses me again. "In a gruesome, heartbreaking way, you saved Madi's life."

I know she isn't wrong. I just feel it's not enough. And that there is no enough. There's nothing she, or I, or anyone can say that will make this enough. I've made excuses for their choices my whole life. Not just because I had to so I could get through, but because I truly believed it. Now I will have to live with yet another truth. A truth that things could have been different, if those two people who were supposed to love me, supposed to protect me, cared just a little bit more. Chose to be a little bit braver.

"Lex?"

"Hm?"

"You're gonna be okay, right?"

It's hard to miss the worry in her voice. 

"Of course," I lie through my tears, "I'll be fine."

... ...

Chapter Text

That night we sleep on the couch together, wrapped in each other's arms. Too tired to think, talk or move any more. Yet when I wake up the next morning, she's gone. And she doesn't come back until late after dinner.

I ask her about her day and she tells me all about it. She tells me how she's been out in the woods with Rosita and two guys I haven't met yet - Daryl and Aaron. And how she will meet the council again in a week to talk about the further collaboration between our groups.

"And how do you feel?" I ask her, "You know, after yesterday?"

As soon as my question is out, she seems to freeze. She just stares into nothing, her mouth half open, like the answer got stuck in her throat somewhere. Then she swallows and abruptly gets up to her feet.

"I'm good," she simply states, "It's late. Let me help you to the bedroom."

The next couple of days aren't much different, except for the fact that Siddiq comes by to check up on me and to bring me some crutches. Despite the medication, I'm still in too much pain and discomfort to explore this place, but at least now I can move around the house a little bit.

"Where's your squad?" he asks me while examining my leg.

"Out," I sigh. "Learning, researching and helping to protect your squad."

His kind eyes lock with mine and the corners of his lips form a compassionate smile. "And what about that bothers you the most? The fact that they've got stuff to do, or the fact that you don't?" He suggestively raises his brows.

"Let's just say I'm not used to sitting at home," I confess, since he seemed to have figured it out already anyway. "With the world on fire, and people relying on me, it just feels wrong. And... useless."

Siddiq puts the splint back on, before looking at me again. "It's not though," he smiles.

I narrow my eyes, not following him.

"The world is not on fire," he shrugs nonchalantly, "I mean, sure, it's a big mess. But it's been a mess for years now. I hate to say it, but this is our new normal. You just... gotta find your way in it."

Not knowing how to respond, I just nod. But even though he makes it sound easy, I really have no clue how to do that, how to simply accept a situation and live with it. Ever since I stepped out of that dropship at age seventeen, life has been about trying to change the world around me. Striving for change has become my second nature. Like it's in my veins.

Cautious not to hurt me, Siddiq gently pats my leg. "How about you just try to enjoy your little break, since you don't have another choice anyway?"

"How? Everyone is out all day," I grumble. I know that I'm acting a tad juvenile, but I can't really control it since it feels too good to get the frustration off my chest, and since he doesn't seem to be bothered by it. In fact, he seems kind of entertained by my misery, in a sympathetic way.

"I could bring you some books," he suggests, while getting up and collecting his things, "If you're into reading of course."

"Actually..."

He turns to face me again.

"You think you could bring me some pencils? Or chalk maybe?"

He answers by showing another wide grin, and doesn't disappoint when he comes back later that day to drop off all kinds of art supplies.

... ...

Days pass by with Lexa being either away or too quiet for my liking, but on the night after the council meeting she is a bit more talkative.

During diner, she tells the three of us that our people can stay where they are and settle down there if wanted, although the advise would be to find a place that doesn't have to be build from scratch. Yet eventually that's up to us. The most important thing is that this part of the woods is ours is we want to, as a thank you for defeating the Whisperers. Also there might be a spot for us in their coalition, somewhere in the near future, if all leaders agree. So that will be discussed at another hour.

It's good news and I think I can actually see some relief on her face, but before we can chat more about it, she's already gone again to start yet another security shift. Two minutes later Raven follows her to do god-knows-what, leaving Madi and me alone at the dinner table.

I look at her, watch how she's gazing at the door Raven just left through, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"Did she talk to you?" I ask.

Facing me, she frowns. "Raven?"

"No, Lexa."

Madi shakes her head. "Hardly."

I want to ask her how she feels about this, but the way she pulls the jug of water toward her and starts to fill our glasses gives me the impression she doesn't want to talk about it. I'm wrong though. Right before she puts her glass to her lips, she restlessly puts it back on the table and continues, her voice now low and insecure. "Is she mad at me?"

"What? No!" I scooch a bit closer and lay my hand on top of hers. "She's not mad, Madi, she's just... very upset. But not with you! Believe me, she cares a lot about you."

She averts her eyes, sadness clouding her face. "She doesn't want to be my sister."

"I don't think that's true. Right now, she's just processing. She's got a whole lot to deal with, and she doesn't know where to start. She needs time. We can't do anything else than give her that, and be there for her when she's ready."

"And then she'll talk to me?"

"I'm sure about that," I nod, squeezing her hand. "She told me she would."

Her eyes find mine again. "Does she talk to you?"

A deep sigh escapes me before I can stop it. "Hardly," I answer honestly. "I mean, she talks, but not about the things that matter."

Another moment of silence follows, in which my mind goes where it always goes these days: to Lexa, and her lonely struggle.

"Clarke," Madi pulls me back at last, "is she okay?"

With our eyes locked, I draw my lips between my teeth. It doesn't keep me from taking another quivering breath. Now I'm the one to shake my head, before sharing the bitter truth with her.

"Hardly."

... ...

Like so many nights this week, I'm already in bed when she comes home. She tries to be quiet, but when she notices that I'm still awake, she comes over and kisses me.

"How are you? Any less pain?" she asks, considerate, yet already moving to her side of the bed before I can answer, or even better: pull her in.

"A lot better, yes," I tell her as she slides under the sheets. "I missed you, though. How are you holding up?"

I roll onto my back, ready to welcome her in my arms. But unlike any other night, she doesn't rest her head on my chest. Instead she just turns off the light on her nightstand and stays like that, her back turned toward me.

"I'm fine," she says. "Just tired."

She doesn't move, or say anything else, and the heavy silence between us is killing me.

Minutes pass.

"Lex," I can't help but breathe after what feels like—and might actually be—an hour, "are you asleep?"

She's smart enough not to say yes. Yet not answering at all doesn't tell the truth either. The sound of her breathing is enough to tell me she's wide awake.

Rolling onto my side again I now face her back. Her silhouette stands out in the moonlight. I stretch my arm. She shivers as my fingers rake across the bare skin of her shoulder.

"Where are you?" I whisper into the darkness.

When she doesn't respond, the room feels even more empty. But then she turns over and finds her place in my arms - finally, and without hesitation. Her lips gently stroke my collarbone when she answers me, her voice barely audible.

"I'm right here."

I hear her. I feel her. But I don't believe her.

We both know she's miles away.

... ...

"Clarke, look who came to see us!"

Sitting on the porch bench in front of our house, I can hear Madi's voice from fifty yards away. I peek over the railing and watch how she's coming closer, together with a familiar face.

"Bellamy!" I cry out when he climbs the steps to join me on the veranda. "Now that's what I call a nice surprise. What brings you over?"

"That Jesus fellow," he laughs, showing me that crooked smile of his. "He came by on his way back to Hilltop to inform us about your accident. We figured it would take you a bit longer than a few days to come back. But now that it's actually been three weeks, we felt like I'd better check on you." His grin fades. "How are you?"

"I'm doing better. I swear! There's no need to look this worried."

"You broke your leg!"

"I survived worse," I shrug. "Now tell me, you didn't come here all alone, did you?"

He shakes his head, then takes a seat right next to me. "Nah, Shaw came with me to see Raven. Madi showed him where to find her."

As Madi disappears into the house to get us all some food and drinks, we stay quiet for a moment. He looks around, taking in the street and the houses across from ours. "Nice place," he nods approvingly, "Sure beats a tent in the woods."

"How's it going down there? Are you able to manage peace?"

"So far, yes. About thirty people chose to leave. I expect most of the prisoners to do the same, but for now they're all still asleep. That still leaves us with over two hundred people at the camp though. They're all good, but also starting to get a bit restless."

"They want to start building," I gather, "I get that."

"Yes," Bellamy nods again, "But most of all, they want to see Lexa. We can tell them all we want, but it's pretty clear that in the end they're waiting for her orders."

When I stay quiet, he tilts his head to look at me.

"Speaking of, where is she?"

"She left," I say, quickly adding when a look of concern crosses his face, "To DC, I mean. That's one of the bigger cities in this area, or what's left of it. She joined a whole group of people to go scavenging this morning. Actually, Shaw is lucky, cause Raven really wanted to join, too."

"Why didn't she?"

I shift in my seat, turning a bit more toward him. "Because it's a day walk, making it a three day trip at least. With that, the people in charge were afraid she could be a liability, or cause a delay... because of her leg and all." I feel a small chuckle rise in my chest, curling my lips into a grin. "Now that I think of it, maybe Shaw isn't that lucky. Raven is a nightmare ever since she got benched!"

"Or maybe Shaw is exactly what she needs right now," Bellamy winks.

Despite all sorrow of the past few weeks, I can't help but laugh. "Let's hope so!"

"All jokes aside," he continues, "when do you think you guys are coming back?"

I run my hand through my hair, giving his question some thought. "Honestly, I don't know," I admit. "I hope to be back on my feet in about a week, but I've been told it can easily take two or three more. So I can't tell. I can only promise you that we'll be back as soon as we can. I'm well aware of the rising impatience among Wonkru."

"And Lexa is too, right?"

"Of course she is," I reassure him, but as soon as the words are out I doubt if they're actually true. Truth is, I have no idea what's going on in her head these days.

... ...

They return four days later, drawing quite some attention when they bring in a wagon full of useful stuff. There are three people pulling it—Daryl, Aaron and Kyle, I know by now, since in the past weeks I've met most of the Alexandrians—while Lexa and Rosita help them by pushing it from the back. Everyone is chatting and laughing, and as I watch them I realize it's the first time in almost a month that I see her like this. Joking and... at ease.

It should make me happy, but for some reason it doesn't.

The heavy gate gets closed behind them and together they start to unload the wagon. That's when Lexa spots me, still watching them work from a short distance. She speeds toward me.

"Look at you walking the streets," she cheers, "Good for you!" Her kiss is more passionate than it has been in weeks. It's strangely overwhelming.

"It's hardly walking," I mutter, "Still only one leg, two arms."

"Those arms are growing some serious guns though," she giggles. She turns away to wave at the others, signing to them that she's off, then looks at me again. "Let's go home."

As we start walking—or hopping—I continue where we left off. "I just feel like I need to stay in shape. Since we're going back soon and all."

As soon as the words are out, her face twists, making her grin disappear and her expression close up. "What are you talking about?"

"About going home, or whatever you wanna call it. It's been almost four weeks, Lex. I'm pretty positive I can make the trip in like a week or so."

"We don't have to, though."

I look at her, not able to hide the bewilderment on my face. "Of course we do! People are waiting for us."

She avoids my eyes, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her. "Says who? Maybe Indra never told them? Or maybe she did, but they don't care? Or worse, they don't want me there..."

"They do," I tell her, as I carefully climb the three steps to our porch. "Bellamy told me."

"Bellamy?"

Taking a moment to catch my breath I look at her, watch how she opens the front door and goes in. The happy and relaxed Lexa I saw five minutes ago is gone again, replaced by the Lexa that's been around me for the past few weeks. 

"Yeah," I start to fill her in, while following her through the hallway. "He was here, together with Shaw. He told me that everyone knows, and that people are getting impatient. They're waiting for your return, and your orders. I told him we'd be there as soon as possible."

She turns around. "You shouldn't have."

"But why not?" I exclaim, my voice full of confusion. Hasn't this always been our plan?

"Because..." She blinks, then forces herself to look at me again. "Because I don't know if I want to leave Alexandria. I like it here."

My eyes grow wide and I think I can actually feel my jaw drop.

"You hear what you're saying?! You made those people out there rely on you, and wait for you, and now you just want to abandon them?"

"Yes," she admits quietly, and a little reluctant.

"Because you like it here?" I go on, air quoting those three words.

She just shrugs.

It's like I'm talking to a stranger. Except for our first day here and that one moment I just witnessed, I haven't seen her laugh—or even smile—once. I haven't seen her cheerful. And I know why that is, I know she's been feeling lost ever since the truth about her family came out, on top of everything else she was dealing with. I do! But it doesn't add up with what she's saying right here. That this place offers something she likes. That this place makes her happy.

I exhale, a pointless effort to ground myself. To keep it together.

"What is it then? What makes you like this place so much? Or—" I abruptly fall quiet, realizing it could be way worse than this. Squinting my eyes, as if to have a better look at her, I force myself to continue. "Or should I ask who makes you like this place this much?"

She doesn't look away this time. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you've spent a lot of time with a whole bunch of new people these past few weeks. And with one girl in particular." Feeling my chest constrict, I take a deep breath. I hate that I'm even asking this, but I know that I have to. "What's going on between you and Rosita?"

... ...

Chapter Text

DAY 27 - FOUR WEEKS AGO

Waiting on the sidewalk in front of their house, I watch how our newest security member gently closes the front door behind her, before quietly making her way toward me. I can't say I know her after the two times we've met, but I'm pretty sure she looks different this morning. Tired and kind of absent.

"Rough night?" I ask when she's close enough.

"Something like that," she mumbles. I don't get the chance for more questions. Squaring her shoulders, she looks at me and already goes on in a stronger voice, "So what's the plan for today?"

"We're going to clear the traps we set out," I explain as I turn around and start walking toward the gate. Lexa follows me closely.

"We're collecting mice?"

Without slowing down, I tilt my head to give her a look. "Please, tell me you're joking?"

She gives me a half-shrug and pulls a face. "I'm trying to."

I shake my head while moving on, deciding I'll let this one go. I'm not really the humor-me kind of girl, especially not before sunrise, but I'm sure there will be plenty more options for her to find out about that, and to realize it's a waste of her breath.

"Hey, don't worry, I know you're talking walkers here," she goes on when I stay quiet, "I'm actually quite familiar with them, you know?"

"Good," I nod. "So how many have you killed?"

"Walkers? I don't know. A million?"

She sounds breezy, like she's just talking about the weather, but for some reason I don't think she's kidding.

"Alright," I continue my questioning, "then tell me this. How many people have you killed?"

This time she doesn't answer straight away. When she does, her voice sounds slightly different.

"Too many."

"Why?" I ask, "Why did you kill them, I mean?"

She looks at me, narrowing her eyes. "Is this some kind of test?"

"Yes," I say, catching her off guard with my straightforwardness. "So you'd better answer me. Unless you don't want your sword back before we head out."

As she keeps our eyes locked for a moment, Lexa seems to weigh her options. Then she inhales deeply, slowly nodding like she actually understands what I'm asking.

"Fair enough," she says with the slightest hint of a smile. "I've killed for survival. To protect myself, or the people I care about. I've killed out of mercy. And—" She falters, and I can tell she silently debates herself whether to move on or not. She does. "And I've killed out of revenge," she quietly adds, in a way that makes me believe this is something she'd rather forget about.

Her honesty makes me think back of the time I went after Negan. Not my best move, but boy did he deserve it. Our gazes cross again.

"An eye for an eye?" I grimace a smile.

"That's what I used to believe," she confesses with a small sigh. "Before I got some new insights on the matter."

This time I'm the one to nod in understanding. We continue the rest of our short walk in silence.

Once we reach the gate, Aaron and Daryl are already waiting for us. They both look at Lexa as soon as we join them. Daryl seizes her up. "You're ready to go out there?" he asks her, his voice low as always.

"Depends," she answers him, while turning to me. "Did I pass the test?"

The corner of my mouth quirks up, just a little, but enough to keep me from building some suspense. "For now," I state, "Let's see what you can actually do with that sword of yours."

... ...

DAY 32 - THREE WEEKS AGO

Feeling like I've been on my feet for at least a month, I drop myself on the couch and close my eyes. For once, the house is all mine, and I relish the peace and quiet that comes with it. Within seconds I can feel myself drifting off. That is until a sudden knock on the door forces me to wake up again. I moan, get up and move to the door to open it.

It's Lexa, our latest recruit.

"Hey," I yawn, still sleepy. "We're not on duty tonight, are we?"

She shakes her head. "Don't worry. I just came from the council meeting and Gabriel asked me to stop by your place on my way home. He wanted me to tell you he won't be home till late."

"Alright," I nod, "thank you."

"No problem." She mirrors my smile, just briefly, then turns around to walk away.

"Hey, Lexa," I call after her, stopping her in her tracks, "You wanna come in? Tell me about the meeting?"

Spinning on her heels, she faces me again. "I don't want to interrupt anything."

I scoff playfully. "Too late for that!"

She chuckles, then follows me into the house, where she takes a seat on one of the kitchen chairs, while I get the both of us a glass of fresh-made juice. As she takes a sip, I hop onto the counter.

"So how did it go?" I ask curiously.

During one of our nights on the wall, Lexa told me she wanted to discuss a certain part of the woods between our four settlements to build one for her own group of people. I couldn't think why Gabriel and Michonne, as well as Jesus, Ezekiel and Cyndie would mind, since that's not an area that offers us many resources, but I liked the fact that she has the decency to come over and ask.

Unlike most others.

"Smoothly," she smiles. "Apparently getting rid of those skin freaks was enough to win you people over."

"Yes, we are very easy to please," I can't help but laugh. "But seriously, I bet they can tell by now that you guys have more to offer than that. Whatever it is though, welcome to the neighborhood."

I raise my glass, and after she does the same, we both take another sip.

"This is good," she tells me as she puts her glass back on the table. "You made it?"

"Hm hm," I hum. "I don't really cook, unless it's camp food, but I do know how to make some cocktails. Including the virgin ones."

She picks up her glass again and spins it around in her hand, watching the ice cubes go 'round. Suddenly, her mind seems elsewhere.

"What is it?" I ask her. "Disappointed by the lack of alcohol?"

Lexa breaks her gaze away from the glass and looks up at me again.

"No. No, that's not it. It's just... the taste brings back some memories. It's a lot like the juice my mom used to make. Or at least..." She falls quiet again, then mumbles underneath her breath, "... or at least who I thought was my mom."

I'm not sure I heard correctly, but since it feels like those words weren't meant for me in the first place, I don't ask any further. Which she seems to appreciate.

She clears her throat. "Anyway..."

I watch how she swiftly finishes her drink, forgetting about my own for a moment, and how she gets up as soon as her glass is empty.

"I should go," she says. The doubt in her eyes doesn't match the steadiness of her voice. "I promised to be home for dinner."

"Sure." I jump off the counter to walk her to the door. "Unless..."

She lingers and bobs her head, waiting for me to continue.

"Unless you wanna hang out a bit longer. Play some gin, or something? I mean, it's still pretty early."

A pensive look crosses her face, followed by a smile. A real one, I think. One that shows relief, and gratitude.

"Yeah," she nods, her smile growing wider, "I'd like that."

... ...

DAY 39 - TWO WEEKS AGO

"I just don't get it. Why the sudden change? I thought we were doing fine!?"

Gabriel's hand rests heavy on mine. Too heavy. I pull away.

"It's not sudden, Gabe. I've always been some kind of unsure. I just couldn't pinpoint it. So I let it be."

"And now you know? You figured it out?" He raises his brows, and I wonder how something that's actually so clear can be such an enigma for him.

"I did," I nod, "I realized that doing fine is just not good enough for me. Even with the world turning upside down, we should never settle."

He doesn't respond. Instead he gets up, paces around the kitchen, then leans onto the counter; the palms of his hands flat on the surface and his back toward me.

"It's Siddiq, isn't it?"

I slowly exhale, trying to keep my patience. After all, this is harder on him than it is on me. "It's not Siddiq."

"Anyone else then?"

"No! My God, is it really so hard to understand that people can decide to end things without there being other people? That being happily alone is better than being miserable together?"

I can't help it. I'm raising my voice, even though he doesn't deserve it. But this is exactly it. The not understanding. The need to explain how things work. How I work. Not just now, but all the freaking time. He's not a bad guy. He just really, really isn't mine.

Turning around to face me again, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I made you miserable."

"You didn't," I reassure him. I get up, walk toward him and take his hands in mine. "You didn't make me miserable, but I will be if we'd go on, ignoring this feeling I have. And then I would make you miserable, and you don't deserve that."

For a second I expect him to pull away his hands, but he surprises me by softly squeezing mine. "So you're doing me a favor? Well, thanks a lot."

"You're welcome," I mirror his forced little smile. I know he's being sarcastic, but who am I to take that away from him?

He finally lets go off my hands and sits himself back on his chair. "Now what?"

I watch him scratch his head, like we're dealing with a case of higher mathematics. But we're not.

"Now I'm going to alternate Michonne and Lexa, as my shift is about to start. And then I'll go to Aaron to hijack his sofa."

Shaking his head again he sighs. "You don't have to. This is your house, too."

"It's not though." I show him another weak smile, one that I know is filled with both sadness and relieve. "It's never really been."

... ...

DAY 50 - 3 DAYS AGO

"I like your cap. Did I tell you that already?"

I didn't notice her come up, being lost in my own thoughts for a moment, but the sudden sound of Lexa's voice pulls me back to the here and now. I tilt my head to look up at her, yet our eyes don't meet as she's still examining my army cap.

"I used to have one just like that. Or well, almost," she goes on. "Wore it all the time, but lost it ages ago. Can't even remember where."

I nod in recognition. "I thought I lost mine, too. But I found it back when I was getting my stuff at Gabriel's the other day."

For some reason I pause, expecting her to jump in with questions about our break-up, like pretty much every other Alexandrian who I've talked to this week, but then I realize she's new in town and probably couldn't care less. She doesn't say or ask anything, so I go on, "It's old and pretty worn out. Not worth wearing anymore, really. But it somehow felt like that one piece I needed to find myself again. To be me." Hearing myself ramble, a sudden snort escapes me. "Shit, I sound like shrink material."

When she joins my laughter, the sound of our snickering breaks the dead silence of the night as it echoes against the chimneys around us.

"Nah, you don't. Not more than any of us, that is," she grins. "And hey, sorry for interrupting - again! I didn't expect anyone to be up here, to be honest."

"That's alright. You can sit if you want. Unless you came here to be alone, then you're out of luck. Me and my friend ain't going nowhere."

"Your friend?"

As she narrows her eyes in question, I raise my hand and show her the bottle I'm holding. Another chuckle falls from her lips.

"Where did you find that?"

"What?" I pull my most innocent face. "You're saying you never kept anything for yourself while scavenging?"

After another chuckle, Lexa slowly shakes her head and lowers herself to sit down on the warm concrete of the roof. When I offer her the bottle, she gazes at it with a hint of conflict in her eyes.

"I really shouldn't. It's been ages."

"Sounds to me that's exactly why you should," I shrug.

She doesn't fight me, takes the bottle instead and puts it to her lips to take a huge gulp. Coughing, she checks the label, then gives the bottle back to me. "I feel like there's a theme here," she says, pointing at the label when she notes my puzzled look, "More gin."

I laugh again, then suddenly fall quiet, giving her an intense look. "Lexa? I... I need to ask you something."

Staring back at me, she uncomfortably starts to shift around. "What?"

I lean closer. "Do you wanna be my gin buddy?"

She snorts, yet her expression shows more than just amusement.

"What's with the relief?" I ask, sitting back again, and still smirking, "Scared that I was gonna propose?"

"No," she answers, "Just that you were gonna ask some complicated question. Where I'm from, where I've been..." And then, more quietly, "Who I am..."

I frown. "How's that complicated?"

With her eyes now lingering on our wide view over DC's suburbs, she stays quiet for a moment, before mumbling, "It just is."

I offer her the bottle again, since she looks like she needs it. She gratefully accepts it.

"Don't worry," I reassure her, "I wasn't gonna ask you any such questions."

"Why not? Anyone else would."

I shrug again. "I don't know. You just don't strike me as someone who appreciates them."

She cocks her head, while handing me the bottle. "Thank you," she smiles, though with the softest sigh. Something tells me she's not just talking gin here.

We stay silent for a moment, an unspoken feeling of understanding between us. Then I brusquely take another sip, before raising the now half-empty bottle. "To gin buddies! And to going forward!"

"And to finishing that bottle," she adds, already stretching out to take over from me again.

I can agree with that, not minding the fact that it's keeping us stuck on the roof a little while longer. We don't have anything else to do than wait till night turns into day anyway.

We take our time, not wanting to get completely wasted, and keep chatting about random things we like. Music, movies, frozen pizza, pumpkin-spice lattes. Nothing that really matters, but for some reason all things from before the world went to hell. Almost from another life. It's not necessarily sad though. Just... melancholic.

"We did loose a lot, didn't we?" she sighs.

I turn my head to look at her, as we're now both lying on our backs, watching the stars above us. Her question sounds rhetorical. I answer it nonetheless.

"That's a fact. But you know what's the good thing about that?"

She faces me. There's curiosity in her eyes. "What?"

"This." I tap my finger against the visor of my cap. "The fact that there's also a lot to find back."

She squeezes her eyes, seemingly giving it some thought, then nods. "That's true."

"So, what are your plans? Thinking about staying yet?" As I ask the question, I realize I want her to answer yes. Truth is I haven't really had a friend to hang around with like this since Tara left for Hilltop. Something I wasn't aware of missing this much until this very moment.

Lexa averts her eyes to the sky again. "I wouldn't mind," she sighs, "But I've got to build that settlement, remember? There are people out there waiting for me."

I furrow my brows. "But why? Can't they just start without you? Hell, live without you?"

She sits up, and I do the same - making my head spin. I try to ignore it, too intrigued by her story. But she's not going to give me any answers.

"Who said you and your people even want us to stay?" she asks instead.

"Uhm, I don't know," I cry out, pulling a face. "Maybe because you guys are fun, and tough, and helpful. And did I say fun already? I haven't seen Eugene this cheerful in months. Maybe even years!"

"You're just saying that," she scoffs. Before I can argue with her, she gets up on her feet and starts moving toward the edge of the roof, sighing, "God, I miss big cities like this."

I quickly get up, too. "Lexa, get away from there!"

"It's okay," she calls over her shoulder, "I'm used to heights, I'm not afraid of them."

"Maybe not, but you're not completely sober either," I tell her, now tentatively following her. She might not be scared, but that really makes only one of us. Yet afraid or not, I quicken my pace without further thinking when she takes it to the next level and starts to climb the railing.

"Come on!" I exclaim, hearing the panic in my own voice, "Don't do that!"

Her foot is already on the third bar. "Calm down, I'm just gonna sit h-eeeey!"

Her scream fills the air as I pull her arm with more force than intended, making the both of us fall backwards. She lands half on top of me.

I don't move, don't push her away. Instead, I just stare at her. At her face this close to mine. If this was a movie, I would probably kiss her now. Or she would kiss me. Or we would kiss each other.

However, this is anything but a movie. Even though it very well could be. With the scenery, and the moonlight, and the pretty girl. Did I really not notice before how pretty she is? Cause she is.

Damn, she is.

Those lips. And cheekbones. And eyes - the greenest and deepest I've ever seen.

It's not that I've never been attracted to a girl before. Though I can't really remember the last time. And I really, really didn't lie when I talked to Gabriel. There wasn't anyone else. There still isn't. But that doesn't mean there could be. At least for the night...

Without fully realizing it, I start closing the gap between us, slowly, giving her the time to react, in whichever way. But she doesn't move. Not toward me, but not away from me either.

"What are you doing?" she just whispers.

"I'm not sure," I breathe. "Do you need me to stop?"

Keeping our eyes locked, she swallows. "I... I'm not sure."

We stay like that for another five, six seconds - completely still, with her breath warming my face and her eyes telling me a thousand different things at once. We stay like that until I can't bear it anymore.

That's when I move in. And she doesn't move away.

And our lips find each other.

... ...

Chapter Text

"What is it then?" Clarke asks somewhat bewildered. "What makes you like this place so much? Or—" She stops mid-sentence and narrows her eyes. "Or should I ask who makes you like this place this much?"

I feel like she's looking right through me, or trying to at least, and I force myself to keep my eyes on hers. "What do you mean?" I ask, knowing all too well what she means.

"I mean you've spent a lot of time with a whole bunch of new people these past few weeks. And with one girl in particular." She deeply inhales. The rest of her words come out in one long breath. "What's going on between you and Rosita?"

I swallow. I don't want to hurt her. But I don't want to lie to her either. I knew that the moment it happened. It's bad enough that there is something I could lie about. Something I can't change, can't undo. Something she didn't deserve - unlike the truth.

"She kissed me." My voice is hardly louder than a sigh, but I can tell my words hit her like a hammer.

She freezes, just for a slight second, then pulls herself together, knowing we're not done.

"A-And?" she stammers.

"And I let it happen." I gasp, feeling as if there's suddenly not enough air for me to breathe.

"You mean you kissed her back?" Her eyes are blazing now.

I nod. There's no way back. "Just for five seconds. Maybe te—"

"What else? You fucked her?!"

"What? No! I just answered that stupid kiss, then pulled away as soon as I realized what I was doing!" I cry out. I know I'm raising my voice, but it's not to fight her. I just really need her to hear me.

Finally breaking our gaze, she starts pacing around, which isn't easy considering her situation. She's too distracted, too furious, to be bothered by it though.

"And how am I supposed to believe that? Wouldn't be the first time you screwed me over. Hell, you're about to betray your own people—"

"Clarke, stop!"

She does, literally, by standing still and looking straight at me again. The pain in her eyes is unbearable.

"Oh, you need me to stop? Like you needed to stop, when you were—"

"I did! I did stop! I lost myself in the moment for like five seconds. That's it. That's really all it. I don't even wanna be with her. Not then, not now... not ever."

I step closer to her, almost cautiously. To my relief she doesn't jerk away. Or well, not completely. "I only want to be with you," I go on. I know everything I say sounds like a cliche, but I mean every word of it.

"Then why did you do it?" she huffs, a little less loud now, but with her chest still rising and falling from heavy breaths.

I shake my head. "I don't know. I honestly don't. I just... I felt like such a mess. All those memories. What I did, what I hadn't done... what I should have done." My lip starts to quiver, but I keep going. "Then there was the resurrection. And the truth about Madi, and my parents. I... I lost myself. And at the same time I started to question if I minded that I did. If I actually wanted to find myself back again. It's just... it's all so complicated, Clarke, and so demanding. It's just..."

My voice trails off, but she knows there's more, and she doesn't help me out by filling the silence. Not this time.

I lean against the back of the couch, my hands folded in my lap. Staring at my fingers, I try to find the explanation for something I hardly understand myself.

"I think... I think I just wanted to be no one for a bit. Instead of being... everyone. Does that make any sense?"

She sighs, deeply. "Call me crazy, but it does."

I want to speak up, apologize and most of all thank her for her understanding, but she's not done.

"Lexa, there has never been one moment I didn't understand what you were going through. As far as that's possible, that is. But has there ever been one moment, one second even, that you thought about me? How all of this is for me? You've been distancing yourself from me for weeks. How do you think it feels to find out that someone else can offer you what I clearly can't?"

"No!" I exclaim, abruptly looking up at her. "No one can give me what you give me! Not her, not anyone. This isn't even about her. I just needed to hold on to, I don't know, that feeling... That feeling of being no one. Of being..."

"... free?"

"Yes, free! That was the part that made me feel better. Just that. Plus we'd been drinking—though I will not use that as an excuse!—and she just... happened to be there."

Clarke hops toward me, turns around and leans into the spot next to me - her gaze now following mine.

"That's a lot of just."

"I know."

"Things like this should never be covered by just."

"I know."

She turns her head to look at me. "You also know I kinda hate you right now?"

I've been fighting it, but this is the moment I break. A tear rolls down my cheek, and I suddenly feel too exhausted to wipe it away. "Not as much as I hate myself," I murmur, "Believe me!"

"I do."

I look up in surprise. Clarke already goes on.

"You're hard on yourself. You've always been. And everything tells me you took that part with you, in this life I mean. If anyone asks me to describe Alicia, that's most likely what I would tell first. And I hate it, I hate that part of you. I hate watching how you can hurt yourself so bad. But this time, I'm not gonna comfort you, or tell you wrong. Tonight I won't be the only one in pain."

I hold my breath as I quietly squeak, "How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is a new day," she answers, before heaving another deep sigh. "We'll have to find out, together with some other stuff. Like where we're gonna go, and when."

As soon as she brings this up once more I realize I don't care about staying or going anymore. I'm just glad she's talking about we. Yet I don't get the chance to tell her this, or—again—how sorry I am. There's knocking on the door, making her jump up - as far as she's able to with her leg.

"I swear to God, if that's her..."

"It's not," I say, peeking around the half-closed curtain and through the dim shimmer of night fall. "Looks like two guys."

I also want to tell her how Rosita apologized straight away, sounding sincere and even a bit ashamed as far as I could tell, and how she knows very well about Clarke. But this doesn't feel like the right moment for that.

Especially when we see who knocked on our door and are now letting themselves in. It's none other than Strand, together with Jesus.

"What the—" I shout, quickly wiping away my tears and speeding towards my friend to wrap my arms around him. "Strand! What are you doing here?!"

"Hey girl," he grins, "Wow, it's good to see you again!"

I release him from our hug, but keep holding on to him, so happy to be this close to him again. "It is!" I cheer, "I just don't get it." Then, suddenly a little worried, "Is everyone alright?"

"Everyone is fine," he smiles, "but you do have to come with me."

Before I ask any further, I look over my shoulder, where my eyes immediately find Clarke's. She looks as astonished as I feel. I turn to Strand again.

"Why?" I ask him at last, knowing that whatever reason he has, I have to turn him down. We're already struggling with two choices, there's really no room for a third one.

I'm wrong though. Very, very wrong.

"Alicia," Strand slowly answers, "I have some serious reason to believe Madison is still alive."

- - END OF PART ONE - -

Chapter Text

"Alicia?"

When Lexa stays quiet, Strand squats down a little to meet her eye level. "You hear me, girl? I said th—"

"I heard you," she mumbles. Her lips move, but that's really all it. She doesn't even blink. It's like she's frozen in time and space. "I just..." She swallows, takes a deep breath, then continues, "I can't believe it."

"I know," he sighs, "it feels like—"

"I can't believe you're saying this," she goes on, brusquely cutting him off before he can finish. She takes a step backwards without breaking their eye contact. "That you're doing this to me. While you know..."

Her voice trails off, making Strand open his mouth to reply. He looks like he's got this full explanation ready for her, waiting on his lips and eager to roll off. But no words come out. Instead another sigh escapes him and all he does is shake his head.

"Alicia," he just says again.

"Why, Strand? Why would you say anything like this? Why would you even think anything like this?" she shoots at him.

He wets his lips, about to give it another try, yet she already moves away from him, making her way around the couch to drop herself down on it, her back now towards all three of us. But she's not done.

"You were there. You know what happened. You know she got trapped. Surrounded by fire and death. Swallowed up by flames and walkers. So, so many walkers." She spins in her seat, her blazing eyes on her friend. "How dare you come in here and cast doubt on any of that? When you were there, watching the stadium go down with us? Grieving with us, when there was nothing left for us to do?"

As she keeps scolding at him, she follows him with her eyes. Watches him get to her. He sits himself down on the coffee table so they're eye to eye again.

"It's because I was there that I know not to take any of this lightly," he tells her in a rather calm voice. "That it rips open old wounds, letting all this pain pour out. That it might be all for nothing, since nothing is for sure. But Alicia, this very well could be for sure. And I for one can't let this tiny chance go by, and not at least share it with you. So please, just hear me out?"

She grumbles. "How do I know this isn't part of some bigger plan? That there isn't something you're after, something to gain for you here that's not in the best interest of others... including me?"

"Come on, that doesn't sound fair," I come to his aid, while joining them at the sitting area. For whatever reason Jesus stays put on the threshold.

"No, it is," Strand corrects me, "It's fair. It wouldn't be a first. But I'm telling you, this time it's really nothing like that. I swear. May lightning strikes me if I'm lying!"

I don't know him very well, or actually not at all, but he sounds sincere to me. Lexa seems convinced as well, at least enough to listen. Or maybe she's just tired of fighting him? She gives him a slight nod, which he takes as a go-ahead.

"There's this man at Hilltop, Luke. An easy fellow," he starts before Lexa can stop him again. "A few nights ago he overheard me and Luciana talk about our last night in Round Rock, and the fire at the diamond. At a certain moment we dropped Madison's name, which apparently drew his full attention as he interrupted us and started to ask questions about her. Quite frankly I just figured he confused her with someone he knew from before the outbreak. Or maybe he remembered her for real, maybe their paths had crossed. It's a small world and all. Anyhow, turned out I was wrong. Based on our description, Luke told us he was almost sure he met her after the fire."

"See, that's not possible," Lexa sighs.

"That's what I said."

"Then why are you here telling me all this? If you don't even believe it yourself?"

Strand shrugs his shoulders. "Because Luke didn't give up. He didn't ask us to believe him, but he needed us to at least hear him. So we did, we listened."

When Lexa keeps quiet again, I turn towards him. "What did he tell you?"

Strand gets up, stretches his long body, then sits down again in one of the more comfortable chairs. And starts to talk.

"Luke has been traveling around with the same group of people for a long time. Years, he told me. They've been on the road a lot, but a few times they settled down in communities, though based on his story they hardly deserve that name. One of those shitholes, as he called it, was named Coalport. It was build in Ohio, not too far from Cleveland, by a bunch of Pennsylvanians. It was right there where he met this woman. Her name was Madison. He's absolutely sure about that, because coincidence would have it that Coalport happened to be build on the ruins of a small town once called Madison. The original sign was still there."

"There are tons of Madison's out there," Lexa mumbles, unimpressed by his words.

"Sure," Strand nods, "but this Madison had survived some major fire. Not that she told them about it, but the scars were there to tell her story. She was covered with them - her hands, her arms, one side of her neck... even a part of her face." He falls quiet. The image of a battered Madison—once his close friend, as I am told—must hurt him deeply. He swallows visibly, then forces himself to go on.

"As said, she didn't talk about it. According to Luke, she hardly talked about anything, really. She was just there, with them, mainly living in silence, and maybe—hopefully—even in some kind of peace. Almost like she had no history at all. But then there was this one night, when she was on watch with Luke. It was a quiet night, close to boring, which made Luke a bit chatty, even though he suspected Madison not to care. Maybe not even to listen. But it didn't stop him. He told her about his journey, and the rundown places they'd found along their way. Places people had tried to build into a home, which never worked out, despite their good intentions. At this point he started to make all this comparisons with Animal Farm and whatsoever - I won't bother you with it, as I wished he hadn't bothered me with it."

He shows her a small, crooked smile, which she doesn't respond to.

"Right. Anyhow, at one point in his monologue he said something in the line of it clearly not being possible anymore to create some kind of safe place, let alone a home. And that's when Madison surprised him by speaking up. She told him, and he swore he remembered it word for word, that 'At the diamond, she really thought she could'. He asked her to tell him more about it, but she waved him off like she'd already said too much. Nevertheless, her remark stuck by him, like it could matter one day - his words, not mine. So when he heard us talking, he put one and one together and reasoned that this had to be that one day."

He spreads his hands in front of him, as if the conclusion, together with the truth, is right there. Ready to roll out on the table between us.

"He sounds like quite the character," I speak up when no one else does.

"He's a real good guy, actually," Jesus says from behind us, startling me a little. I'd forgotten he was there.

Strand smiles at me, not showing any offense. "He is. But we all know this isn't about him."

"Yeah, I get that," I nod, though not feeling able to return his smile. "What I don't get though, is why you came here to share all this, knowing what you're stirring up, while you could have checked out his story first. I've seen a map. Cleveland is not the end of the world."

"It's not, and I would have, if..." He doesn't finish. Instead he lets himself fall backwards into the pillows of the chair and rubs his eyes, as if tiredness suddenly hits him.

"If...?!"

He inhales deeply, then slowly blows out his cheeks, before looking at me again. "If she would still be there."

His words make me shoot up in my seat. "She's gone?" I exclaim, a tad agitated. "Then what's the point of all this?"

"She left, yes," Strand answers, ignoring my temper, "but that doesn't mean she's gone. We got a clue. A direction. When Coalport got into trouble, with a bunch of herds approaching from everywhere, everyone except Luke's little group got on their boats to cross Lake Erie."

"Which brought them where?" I ask.

He averts his eyes, just for a second, then looks at me again. Yet it's Lexa who answers me first.

"Canada," she states, like that's a real answer. Like that map didn't show me how absolutely huge Canada is.

Strand just nods in agreement, but I'm not sure Lexa even catches it. She's already up, pacing the room in her well-known manner. I know this means her brain is in overdrive. Not giving any inconvenient emotions a chance to take over, she has pushed them as far away as possible in the blink of a second; almost beyond her control, and in the best case to deal with them later. On her own or, if we ever get there again, with me. She chooses head over heart. So she's analyzing. Weighing. Planning.

She's doing what she hates, yet what she's raised to do.

Or at least she's trying to.

I get up and hop towards her, until I'm standing right in front of her, blocking her way.

"Talk to me," I tell her.

I don't call her baby, or sweety, or anything else of any meaning. I can't. Just thinking about her like that hurts me in a way I can't compare to anything I ever endured. My broken leg. The death wave radiation on my skin. The loneliness I once had to defeat. All that felt like nothing compared to this. And I know I can't allow that much pain, not right now, but I can't step away from her either. I don't want her to go through all this alone.

We are still us, and I need to protect us.

Her eyes meet mine, and as they do I think I catch a hint of relief in them. As if the proof that I'm actually still here embraces her. Brings her home. And makes her able to breathe again.

"It could be her."

Her voice is low, like her words are just for me to hear. But it's not just that. She sounds... fragile. Scared even. Then I remember our talk a while back, when she told me about hope, and how it's her one true enemy. I catch myself getting a lump in my throat. I just nod at her.

"And she could be in Canada."

I nod again, expecting her to go on from here. To tell me what this all means to her, what she wants. But she doesn't. She tries to, but she seems unable to find the words. It's like I can actually see them get stuck.

Her eyes pierce into mine, real deep. "Help me get there," they seem to scream.

I clear my throat. "Can you live with that?" I ask her at last. "Can you live here, the way we planned, knowing she might be living there?"

"I don't know," she whispers, her voice so small now I can barely hear her.

I feel my heart break all over again, and not in any way it did earlier today. I feel for her - so bad. For the eternal conflicts that seem to haunt her, always and everywhere. For her loyalty that's once again put to the test. And for the fact that she can't even allow herself to feel slightly happy about this news. Since she would be feeding that enemy with it, that beast that nestled inside her long ago and that she's carrying with her ever since. I feel for her and I want to pull her in.

I really want to.

But I don't.

I can't.

And she knows. She can see it in my eyes. And it frightens her even more. There are some emotions even she can't push back. Or hide.

It makes her avoid my gaze, hanging her head a little in defeat.

"No," she breaks our heavy silence, and then again, a little louder, "No, I can't."

In the corner of my eye I see how Strand gets up, like these few words were the cue he was waiting for. I gesture at him to sit down again. To leave us a little longer. Despite everything, this is still just us.

He takes the hint.

Now that she's found her voice again, Lexa goes on as if Strand's not even in the room. "If I'd go look for her, leaving them, leaving your— our people behind... would you leave me?"

Not realizing I was holding my breath until now, I exhale and shake my head. "I could never," I answer without hesitation. "Don't you know that by now?"

With her eyes still on the floor, she starts murmuring, "I know I gave you reason enough to—"

"Hey!" I make her shut up, "We're not talking about that now. You hear me?"

That's when she looks up, slightly, just through her eye lashes. This girl, who's not afraid of anything, or anyone. But is scared to death of losing me.

And I'm scared to death of losing her. That much I know.

"I'm not saying we're not gonna talk," I tell her, just as much as myself. "I really think we need to figure some stuff out - together. But it can wait. I'm not going anywhere... unless it's somewhere you are going." I reach out and gently take her hand.

Finally.

The moment we touch, I can feel how a sensation of reassurance—mine as well as hers—flows through my body. Our fingers entwine and we both tighten our grip. With our eyes we exchange the softest smile, the kind that is only for us to see. Our lips will follow. I have no doubt about that.

"Even Canada?" she whispers.

I nod. "Even Canada."

We stare at each other a few seconds longer, until she breaks our gaze with a blink and a shake of her head, almost as if to wake herself. There's no time for dreaming. Reality awaits.

"We can't just leave though," she sighs, and I know all too well what she's talking about.

"We can't make them wait any longer," I agree, referring to our people in the woods. "We'll have to finish what we started."

Lexa lets go of my hand, though with clear reluctance, and starts to pace back and forth again. "It wil take forever. And even then I don't think they'll ever let me out of sight again. The Grounders, I mean. Their need for a Commander has never left them. Sooner or later their urge of keeping one will result in their urge to cage one. And a golden cage is still a cage."

"Yet you knew that, didn't you? The moment you took over from Madi, you knew they would never let go of you again," I carefully note.

"I could accept it. Knowing it would save Madi, and that I would have you with me. I knew it was enough. But Clarke, with the idea of my mom being alive, with an actual trail to follow - even though it's just some tiny crumbs..."

She stands still, right between me and Strand. I look around her, see how confusion has clouded his face, but also how he patiently waits, despite not getting any of this. When I focus on her again, I lift my shoulders in some hopeless gesture.

"I get it," I sigh. "I get that you want this, and why you want this, but I think you're right about people not wanting to let go of you. I think if we just go and leave, they will follow. They will find you, and they'll get you back."

"You're both right."

Jesus' voice makes me jump - again! We both turn towards him, right when he takes a step closer, and then another one - cornering us a little.

"There's only one way to no longer be a part of them - of us," he corrects himself, before continuing, "You're gonna have to die."

... ...

Chapter Text

The moment Jesus takes a step closer, I instinctively take one backward, creating more space between us. I thought we were doing a little better, or at least I hoped so, but right now I'm not so sure anymore. He looks really serious and his words aren't exactly reassuring either.

"I'm gonna what?" I exclaim, my eyes wide.

"You're gonna have to die," he repeats himself. His voice is calm. My heart rate is not.

Right then Strand steps between the two of us. "Whoa," he utters, "What's going on here? Are you threatening her?!"

The two men stare each other straight in the eyes. Nobody moves. Not until Jesus blinks and shakes his head.

"No. No, I don't mean..." His gaze move back to me. "I mean they're gonna have to think that you died. To them, you have to be dead."

Strand turns toward me before I can react to Jesus' words.

"Alicia, I have no clue what this is all about. Who you are to this people you are speaking of, or honestly, even who you are to me right now. But this... this is ridiculous!"

I nod, slowly. "Yes," I agree, "From where you're standing, with what you know, it is."

"So what don't I know?" he asks, looking quite bewildered by now - which I can totally understand. A sigh escapes me before I can hold it in. I've been dreading this moment for so long.

"I'm afraid we're gonna need at least a full bottle of Scotch to cover all that."

"Bring it," he shoots.

I know my friend. Now that he's aware that there's a story, a truth he doesn't yet know about, he's not willing to let go. He's just like Al in that regard. To my surprise it's Jesus who comes to my rescue.

"How 'bout giving her a minute, while you and I go look for a bottle like that?" he suggests. "I know the people around here, so that might give us an actual chance of finding some decent spirit."

Instead of answering him, Strand keeps his eyes on me, sizing me up in an almost examining way. It hits me how in the blink of an eye I must feel like a total stranger to him. Forcing a little and hopefully reassuring smile I nod again, as if to tell him that taking a minute is all I will do, and that there will be answers when he comes back. Whatever those answers might be.

"Fine," he grumbles.

And then they're gone again.

I keep my gaze on the door they just disappeared through, hardly aware that I'm staring at it, until I feel the soft pressure of a hand on my shoulder.

Clarke.

"Hey," she just says.

I turn toward her. When our eyes link, I let out the longest breath... and start to laugh. I laugh in a beyond-my-control kind of way, despite feeling exhausted to the bone all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry," I snicker, highly aware of my inappropriate reaction, "But is today even real?"

Whether she shares the sentiment of the insanity or my laughter is just contagious, she chuckles along and that fact alone makes me melt and gives me strength at the same time. After all that happened today she's still here, and she's still with me. At least I want to believe she is.

"Just today?" she laughs. "How about all of it?"

She's got a point.

"You know, by now I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't. If this was all just a superlong dream in your superlong sleep. A dream I'm only guest starring in."

"Like you could ever be just a guest star." The corner of her mouth curls up a little, turning her lips into the smallest smile, and I note a twinkle in her eyes. "The villain maybe, but never a guest star."

Before I know it, I slap her on the arm. Though it's just a simple, playful act, I startle myself by doing so. Are we really already making jokes about my idiocy from before? Am I even allowed to?

I don't get the chance to check with her, which is probably for the best, since it might look like I want to brush things off the table that I know damn well are not for me to brush off.

"What do you think about Jesus'... solution?" Clarke changes the subject while hopping back and taking a seat on the sofa again. I join her, no longer laughing.

"Truthfully, I think he might be right," I answer. "I can't just disappear. If I want to set them free, Lexa has to stop existing to them."

"You think they would buy it?"

"I guess that depends on our story."

Biting her bottom lip, Clarke slowly nods. She's got this pensive look on her face, one that tells me she's not all happy with where this is going.

"What is it?" I quietly ask her.

She takes in a sharp breath. "It's just... it's gonna hurt them. Some of them, at least. They just got you back."

"I know," I admit. I can hear the regret in my own voice. Yet at the same time I feel like somehow I already made my decision, and this conclusion is not enough to change that.

Clarke narrows her eyes. A thin line appears between her brows. "Doesn't that bother you?" 

"Of course it does. You know it does!" I cry out. "But what else can I do? Except for trusting that they will be alright. That they'll move on, even more because of this. Right?"

She stays quiet for a moment, then nods again. "Right," she mouths without sound. She doesn't look or sound very assured, but then she clears her throat and repeats herself out loud, "Yes, right. Of course they will."

"It's not like they haven't dealt with this before," I go on. I honestly don't know who I'm trying to convince here, her or myself.

"Yeah, no, you're right." At this point her nodding is turning almost frantic. "You know, if we bring it well, we could even try to make them believe you were never back at all."

I tilt my head a little. "That might actually help. To avoid the risk that me dying once again won't impress them. Since death apparently doesn't keep me away."

"Exactly," Clarke nods, pointing a pistol finger at me.

And with that somewhat silly conclusion we fall quiet again. We share another smile, a little giggle even, yet one that comes with a weird discomfort. Like we're a bit ahead of ourselves.

Which we are. I know we are.

And she knows it, too.

We're trying, though.

"I guess we've gotta give it some thought," she sort of shrugs, "To come up with something really good."  

There's more strength, more conviction in her voice than before, but in her eyes I still catch a hint of doubt. Something tells me she's still unsure about actually doing this, and not just because of them.

I inhale, bracing myself. "Would it..."

Hesitant for the answer, I don't finish my question. Her eyebrows draw together again.

"Would it hurt you, too?" I ask her after all.

"Hurt me how?"

"If I'd leave it all behind me? If I'd erase the Lexa part of me?"

She cocks her head. "Is that what you would want? To go all the way? Like Magna and Jesus?"

I suck my lips between my teeth, cast a glance out of the window into a starless night and shrug. "Maybe," I mumble underneath my breath.

I expect her to react, in whichever way, but she doesn't. When I face her again, her crystal blue eyes bore into mine, encouraging me to go on. "Yes, I think I might," I confess at last. A heavy exhale escapes me as soon as the words are out.

"I think you do, too," she nods. Her voice is calm, without any reproach. "I think it's what you wanted from the start. From the moment it all came back to you. But for some reason, you don't allow yourself to go there. To make that choice that, in the end, is only yours to make."

I swallow and look away again, not knowing what to say.

"Alicia?"

For a moment I keep staring ahead, lost in thought, but then her voice reaches me, together with the realization that she just used my other name. While no one else is around. While she doesn't have to.

As I turn back to her, she takes my hand. Just like before her touch feels almost electric, as if it's more charged than ever before. Considering I was this close of losing it, maybe it is. She looks at our hands, at our entwining fingers that seem to have a mind of their own, when she speaks up.

"It's me, isn't it? I am that reason?"

I shrug again, clumsily. "You fell in love with Lexa. Not with Alicia. Can you blame me for holding on to that - and thus to her?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I can't. I get it. But do you remember how you explained to me how you're not one or the other? Well, you really didn't had to tell me. Ever since we met again, Alicia has always been with you. Even when you became Heda again. When you tried to hide her, to push her back. She's there. All the time. And I'm glad. I got to know her a bit along the way. And you know what? I love her just as much."

I exhale, a shaky breath falling from my lips. She loves me. Present tense.

Still I'm not all reassured things could be this easy.

"You can say that, because that's exactly what it is: the both of us. Alicia and Lexa. But what would be left of us—of you and me, not to mention of Madi and me—if I erase that one part that connects us? We both know that part is not Alicia. That's all Lexa."

"No, it's not. It's neither one or the other. It's you. You! Whatever name you carry, whatever history you cling on to, or live by. Don't you see? It doesn't matter! Those things don't make you you. Your strength does. Your loyalty does. Your righteousness, and your caring." Clarke moves her hand to my chest, spreading her fingers when she lays her hand on me. "Your heart does."

My eyes well up. Seriously, when did I become such a cry baby?

"You're not hurting me by choosing to be who you need to be," she goes on. "But you are hurting yourself by not making that choice." She drops her hand again, only to rest it on my thigh. "You're hurting yourself. And in consequence you're hurting everyone else. Everyone who cares about you."

I lower my gaze as another wave of shame creeps up on me. My body goes rigid with tension and I can feel how my voice tries to leave me all together. I don't let it though.

"Like you," I murmur.

"Yes," she says without the smallest attempt to mitigate anything I did.

I sigh, knowing too well she's so, so very right.

"And Madi..."

"Yes," she says again, "And Madi."

Tears are stinging my eyes. I fight them, as well as the lump in my throat, since it's not my place to cry. Since I am not the victim.

Since I'm the villain here.

Shaking my head I take another deep breath, then groan, burying my face in my hands. "God, I made such a mess."

"You did," she agrees, though with a tenderness in her voice I don't feel I deserve. She gently squeezes my leg. "But I understand. And I also believe it wasn't all you. I cast some blame at myself, too."

Frowning in confusion, I look up at her. I want to tell her wrong, but she stops me before I can.

"Two months ago, when we found each other again, we picked up where we'd left off. Which felt good. Naturally."

I nod in agreement, and Clarke goes on.

"We forgot one thing though. Our last moment together wasn't just the moment we'd lost each other. It was—give or take an hour or two—also the moment where we'd truly found each other. You know, for real. After the war and the mountain and the... the life we'd lived till then. The life that had us on opposite sides."

I raise my brow. "You're saying we didn't know each other?"

"In a way, yes," she nods. Letting go of me, she shifts in her seat, stretching her legs before crossing her good one underneath the other.

"We'd hardly been together, hardly knew a thing. And then, when we met again, there was even more that we had yet to learn about each other. And sure we talked a bit, shared some things that happened in between. But we failed to go back—really go back—to where we'd left off. That wasn't just you. We both did that."

"Because it doesn't feel that way. It doesn't feel like I don't know you."

"I know," she smiles, "Guess that's the thing with a bunch of real intense, shared experiences. They can be enough to give you that feeling, that sensation of knowing each other forever. And I'm not saying that our bond isn't real! But those things we've been through, they're not who we are. We want a normal life, without heavy duties and craziness. So badly. But we hardly know ourselves without any of that, let alone each other. We don't know how to be casual. To be no ones, like you called it."

Stretching her hand, she rakes her fingers through my hair, before mindlessly playing with the tip of it. "What I'm trying to say is that things aren't always obvious. And we don't have all the answers. But I do get it. How you felt, and how that led to..." She swallows and briefly shakes her head, as if to rid herself of the mental image. Yet she doesn't avoid my eyes. "I hate it, but I get it."

This time I'm the one to take her hand in mine, not longer scared that she might retract. I stroke the back of it with my thumb.

"It should have been you."

She nods, though so subtle that it's easy to miss.

"And you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't!" I emphasize, needing her to really hear me. "I was the one who refused to come back, making you choose me over everyone else - even Madi. It was me who couldn't get us into Hilltop. I've been the one calling almost all the shots ever since. And you stood by my side every step of the way. Even when I didn't let you."

Mirroring her position, I take her other hand as well. "We skipped some steps? Yes, maybe. But if you can forgive me for... for all this... then I'd say it's not too late."  I shuffle a little closer toward her until my knee presses against hers. "I know it's not too late."

She narrows her eyes again.

"By kiss and forget?"

"No," I smile - unable to suppress it, despite the nervous little twitch in my stomach. "By going back to where we left off. By taking you on a date."

... ...

Chapter Text

Siddiq gently removes the splint from my leg and puts it aside him. His hands move back to my shin, where he presses his thumbs into my skin with just the right amount of pressure.

"Any pain?" he asks me, looking up from underneath his heavy eyebrows.

"Zero," I smirk at him.

Without waiting for his permission, I swing my legs over the edge of the table, more than ready to move on with my life.

"Whoahoahoa!" he stops me right before I'm about to jump off. "Take it easy there. Let me at least give you a hand."

I accept his arm, mainly because I don't want to be rude, and slide off the table until my feet hit the floor. I have to admit, it does feel a bit unsure to stand again, and more so to put weight on my leg. But it still doesn't hurt. It feels right.

"Alright, let's take a few steps," Siddiq encourages me, like I really need it. If it was up to me, I'd run straight out of here. Okay, maybe not run, but you know.

My first steps are a bit wobbly, but that's mostly my insecurity. As soon as I feel that I can actually trust my leg the way I used to, I dare to let go of Siddiq's arm and start stepping around his examination room without any fear. As I do so, my eyes meet his.

"Four and a half weeks. You did it, girl," he smiles. "There's nothing left for me to do here than declare you healed."

I mirror his smile. "Great! So I can go?"

"What's the rush?" he laughs while handing me my pants.

As I squeeze myself into my jeans, I can feel my grin grow even wider. "I've got a date tonight!"

... ...

As she helps me down the stairs, Lexa makes sure to keep a close eye on me. "You sure you're okay?" she asks for the third time.

"I am, I told you," I answer, while holding on to her somewhat tighter. "I'm just a bit unbalanced, so you'd better stay close."

Narrowing her eyes, she creases her forehead. She knows there's a little lie somewhere. She just doesn't know about which part.

"Hm," she caves in, "Alright then. But you have to swear you'll tell me when you've had enough!"

"Baby, as long as you didn't plan to take me on some endless moonlight walk, I'll be fine."

I tilt my head to look at her and right when I do my laughter freezes in my throat.

She's staring at me. Motionless, as if anything, even a blink with her eyes, could make the world crumble down, and with her mouth half open, like the words are there, but whatever she'll say next might turn things around. Ruin things again.

And then I realized what I just said. How I just called her. How that one word had just slipped in, without thinking. I didn't mean to, but it wasn't meaningless either.

So I smile at her. I smile to tell her yes, I heard it too, and no, I'm not taking it back.

I can see her shoulders drop an inch, hear the breath she was holding escape her lungs.

"Baby..." she sighs, breaking our silence at last. "You mean that?"

I nod without any doubt. "I do."

"Cause I'm not asking you to say or do anything you're not ready to, just because we're doing this—"

"Hey," I stop her mid-sentence. "Trust me on this. I do. I mean it."

Now she's the one to nod, slowly at first and then a bit more decisive.

"Okay then," she says, more to herself than to me, as her smile slowly grows bigger and more confident. I also notice some sparks in her eyes that weren't there before. They make me happy.

She makes me happy.

I know that, more than I know anything else. I'm not fooling myself, I'm not denying that she hurt me. Not just with answering someone else's kiss, but most of all with distancing herself from me. With shutting me out. But I know just as well that it wasn't on purpose. She wasn't out to cause me any pain. She was dealing with her own. And it doesn't make me wanna be with her any less.

It doesn't make me love her any less.

She takes my hand.

"Come," she smiles.

... ...

Lexa takes me to our backyard. The first thing I see when we get there are the candles - dozens of them, illuminating the twilight sky with a warm, yellow glow. I look at her, a little speechless. Her giggle fills the air like music.

"Old habit," she shrugs nonchalantly, shooting me a grin. "I'm afraid we have to leave this place before the residents find out I took them all, though."

I hardly hear her, too distracted by everything else. My eyes are on the old tv set and the cosy seat in front of it, covered with pillows and blankets. A little further on there is a picnic table, neatly set with plates and glasses, and of course with even more candles. Next to it I spot a small campfire, keeping whatever is in the pan above it warm.

Lexa follows my gaze.

"I know it's not much," she starts to apologize. "Turns out Alexandria doesn't have a movie theater I could take you to. Or a skating rink, or a mini golf course, or... well, anything else highly cliche for a date."

I turn toward her, lay my hands on her hips and look her straight in the eyes. "It's perfect," I tell her, though already feeling it's way more than that. "And don't worry about any cliches. You can't go wrong with me. You know, since this is my first date ever, and all."

Unable to hide her surprise, her eyes grow big and her jaw falls a little - making me laugh in amusement.

"No way!" she cries out. "How's that even possible? I mean, have you seen you?!"

"Well, not through your eyes," I snicker, before shrugging just like she did before - in the brushing-it-off kind of way. "I guess I was a bit distracted growing up in space. Too busy with being the rebellious teenager. Getting imprisoned didn't really help either. I'm glad though."

She frowns. "You are?"

"Are you kidding me?" I laugh again. "Look at all this! Who doesn't want this for a very first date?! This has to be a zillion times better than any movie theater. It's like... like a hug! So warm and inviting. And intimate. I mean, it's just us... isn't it?"

"It is," Lexa says as she holds my hand a little tighter, leading me to the small sofa she has built for us. "Madi is staying at Judith's. And Raven took over my night shift. Now sit. I haven't been on a bicycle for three hours to charge that generator for nothing."

I do as told, expecting her to drop down next to me, but she moves to the tv-set instead.

"So what are we watching?" I cheer, unable to hide the excitement in my voice and the joy on my face. For a moment I feel like a kid in a candy store.

Lexa holds up an old video tape to show me the cover. The picture doesn't give away a lot, except for some boy holding a box containing something fluffy. My eyes move to the title.

"Gremlins?"

"You don't know it?" she laughs, amazed or amused—or maybe both—by my clueless look. "It's a real classic."

"Hey, my ancestors took like five recordings for us to watch in space," I cry out, "Three of them were soccer matches."

Though I'm painfully failing in pretending to feel offended, she's a true sport, playing along by pulling a sad face and calling me poor baby. I reward her with a heartfelt chuckle, then eagerly sit up again when she turns away from me to shove the tape into the rusty VCR.

"So, what's it about? Is it romantic? And cute? It's cute, isn't it?!" I keep rambling until she faces me again, now clearly trying to keep from laughing.

"Oh, it's cute, alright," she grins. "For like... three minutes at least."

"What?!" I frown not-understandingly, pointing at the box again. "But..."

She ignores my puzzlement though, as she's finally ready to sit down with me.

The small sofa is just big enough for two, so as soon as she joins me we both have to shuffle around to be comfortable. It's in that moment that I catch the hesitation in her eyes. For a short second she looks indecisive. Uncertain. As if she doesn't want to cross any boundaries that might or might not be there.

And I know why.

On the night of our fight we ended up on an even bigger rollercoaster when Lexa's world got turned upside down - once again. And despite my pain and anger, I felt like I needed to be there for her. To listen and even to hold her. But that was just in that moment. Once we called it a day, I took a step back again. And she let me, knowing I needed the space.

Since that moment we've been different around each other. I didn't avoid talking to her after that night, but I did steer clear of expressing my feelings. Feelings I struggled to understand, since they were so conflicting - making me want to push her away as well as pull her close, sometimes even at the same time.

I did need that space, but by taking it, it made us end up in limbo, where we lived beside each other for days - together alone. I didn't kick her out of the house, or even out of bed, but I couldn't have her sleep in my arms either. I didn't reject her help and support, and with that her touch, but I also didn't look for her affection. Even though I craved for it, every day a little bit more.

And by now more than ever.

Boy, do I crave for her.

There's no denying, and I don't need to tell her. I know at this moment it's all in my eyes. The acquiescence. The permission. The frigging need.

She sees it, recognizes it and doesn't waste another second to give me all I want the second I give her the slightest nod. She wraps her arm around me like she would've done any other day, and as soon as she does I know that it's alright. That any other way would just be wrong.

As I nestle in her embrace, I exhale and feel my body relax, which must be her cue to do the same. And just like that we're one again.

"I didn't really had much choice," she says, for an instant confusing me what this is about. "The only other movie I could find was some old war movie, and I reckoned we've both seen enough of that."

My lips form another smile while my gaze moves back to the screen, where the opening credits start to roll. "Good call," I sigh blissfully.

I still have no clue what to expect, but for once I don't mind. In fact, I think I really like it.

... ...

"So, what did you think of the movie?"

We just moved to the picnic table where Lexa is now filling our plates with the meal she cooked earlier. It smells great. No gross, melting little monster can change that!

"I loved it!" I nod enthusiastically. "And not just the story and the cuteness and the funny stuff—"

"—and the scares?" She laughs and winks at me.

"Okay, yes, and the scares," I admit with a chuckle. Since she'd been holding me close the entire time, there's no denying that I jumped up more than once. "I loved it all, but I also just really liked to get a glimpse of your world before it all went down."

Handing me my plate and a glass of wine, she cocks her head a bit. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but our world didn't come with fantasy creatures tripping on Snow White music."

"It didn't? Well, that's a bummer." This time I'm the one who's winking.

We share a grin, then raise our glasses and take a sip. It could be the night, which I have to admit is pretty magical, but I really think this is the best wine I ever tasted.

"Dig in," Lexa smiles, nodding to the food on the table. She doesn't have to tell me twice.

"You know, when you think of it, the Gremlins part is actually not that different from the post-outbreak days, is it?" I go on after savoring that first, delicious bite. "Cute things turning ugly and dangerous. Multiplying like crazy..."

Lexa looks up at me, her fork in mid-air and with a pensive look on her face, then surprises me by bursting into laughter.

"What?" I murmur. I actually wasn't joking.

She shrugs, still laughing. "I'm just picturing it," she hiccups, "A giant herd of walkers, singing Heigh-Ho." Before I know it she starts imitating one, swinging her arms around while vigorously moving her head left and right, her hair dancing along, while blurting out those lyrics.

She looks like she’s lost it completely, and of course I can't help but laugh. Laugh and feel grateful, since for the first time in way too long I actually see her happy and at ease again. And that's not even all it. I feel like I also get to see, get to meet, a first glimpse of that other side of her. That goofy side, that never got the chance to find a place in Lexa's dark, predestined life.

I know it's just one aspect, one thing of many to discover, but I love it and it only makes me want to learn so much more about her.

"What?!" Lexa echoes my earlier question. She isn't moving around anymore and I realize she just caught me staring at her.

"Nothing," I shake my head. "I'm just... I'm glad we did this. I'm glad I'm here with you."

She puts her glass down and reaches her arm over the table, resting her hand on the back of mine for just a moment.

"Me too," she smiles softly.

"And this is really, really good!" I go on, pointing to the food on my plate with my fork.

Her smile grows warmer. "Thank you. My grandma taught me. She was a real star in making pretty much everything with just basic ingredients."

I tuck into my food again, almost ecstatically. "Well, then thank you, Grandma!"

We both laugh, clink our glasses once more and then just enjoy dinner for a little while in silence - except for the the crackling sound of the fire and the chirping of the crickets in the trees around us. For once the world around us feels calm, and the quietness is so comfortable, I honestly believe I could just sit here and listen to it forever.

But in the end I'm also eager to talk to her, and for that I have to break our peacefulness.

"Tell me more about them," I ask her, picking up our conversation after swallowing another mouthful. "About your family."

She tilts her head, looking a little surprised by my question. "Didn't I already?"

"A little, yeah. But I wanna hear more. Who were they, what were they like? I mean, unless you don't want to—"

"No, no, it's okay," she quickly reassures me, drowning her bite with another sip of her wine. I pick up the bottle and refill our glasses, even though neither of them is completely empty yet. When I hand hers back to her, our fingers brush.

"Well, there's not a whole lot to tell, since my family is pretty small. No aunts and uncles. My dad did have a brother, but he died at young age. Some tragic story," she starts. "My mom's an only child, but she had two cousins who I guess were kind of my aunts. Even though we hardly ever saw them, since they lived in Florida, and then later on in Atlanta."

As she mindlessly spins her glass around, her smile returns, together with the memories.

"Andrea and my mom were a lot alike, inside and out. Strong, protective, but also impulsive and a bit hotheaded at times. They were around the same age as well. Amy, on the other hand, was more of an introvert. She was calmer, a bit quiet even, but caring and wise beyond her years. She was at least ten years younger than her sister, so whenever they came over to visit us, she often chose to hang out with us instead of, well, the so-called adults."

"Were you close?"

She bites her lip, giving it some thought. "No, not particularly. I mean, we didn't really keep in touch when we weren't around each other. But I did really like them, and Amy especially. I remember how she had this special way of connecting with Nick. Like she was the only one he actually listened to - maybe because she actually listened to him. And even though he eventually fell back every time, I really appreciated that."

I swallow my last bite and put my fork and knife down. "What happened to them?"

"I have no idea," she shrugs, yet not in a dismissive way. "We didn't get the chance to reach them after the outbreak, since everything went so fast and all, so I have no clue if they even survived." She falls quiet for a moment. "Now that it's years later, I can only assume that they didn't. You know, since hardly anybody did."

"You did," I point out.

She pops the last morsel of her meal into her mouth, her eyes for a moment averted from mine. When our gazes meet again, I note that the sparks are gone. Yet as she speaks up, her smile is still warm, just like her voice.

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Y-Yeah, of course," I stammer. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's a fair point, and it's not that I want to avoid the topic. Or that I don't want to include you in that part of my life. But just... not tonight."

I nod. I know not all our stories are rainbows and roses, and that the shitty ones are just as much part of us as the good ones. That in the end there's no getting to know each other without them. Just as much as I know that there's still some stuff between us we need to resolve. But right now traumas and trust issues can wait.

"Not tonight," I agree, and I really mean it.

Our shared understanding is enough to quickly lighten the mood again.

Lexa pushes her now empty plate aside and leans her elbows on the table. "Also this shouldn't be all about me," she grins eagerly. "Why don't you tell me one of your space adventures?"

A small laugh escapes me. "What makes you think we were having adventures up there?"

"I dunno," she shrugs again, "Maybe because Raven always makes it sound like it?"

I shake my head, still laughing. "Ah yes, there are always a few exceptions of course. Raven was indeed a real star in finding some excitement up there - she and Finn both were."

As soon as I drop his name, I freeze, and so does she - our gazes locked in mute exchange before we both look away, as if on cue.

"Shit," I mumble beneath my breath.

"Yeah," she sighs, "I guess light topics just really don't exist in our world."

This time I don't agree, though neither do I contradict her. Instead I get up, kind of abruptly and thus making her look up in surprise. I walk around the table and swing one leg over the bench, right next to her.

"Of course they do," I say. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her toward me, making her spin in her seat. She gets the hint and pulls her feet up, resting them on the bench while leaning back against my chest. Holding her in my arms like this, I rest my chin on her shoulder. "We just have to find a way to live with the bad stuff, too. To find some balance."

"Hmm," she muses, and I can tell she's already close to smiling again. "I still want to hear about baby Clarke, though. And life in space."

"Alright," I smile, pulling her a little closer. "One story."

... ...

At least ten stories later, mine as well as hers, we find ourselves on the ground near the fire. We took one of the blankets and a few pillows to lie on - the stars, candles, wine and company making up for the rest. Besides the many anecdotes, we share a couple of firsts and favorites, and although I have to pass on some of them and don't even know most of hers, I still love every snippet she shares with me.

Only once or twice she switches from Alicia's perspective to Lexa's, like when she tells me the story in which she and Luna pulled a trick on Titus—once their teacher—or how she loved to play chess with Luna's brother.

The switching between her different lives seems to go effortless and she doesn't give me the impression that these memories bother her, which admittedly feels like a relief. It's not that I feel that I can't be with her if she would really choose to ignore that life completely. I truly believe I can deal with that. It's the fact that there's something she might wants to hold on to after all - at least for herself, and maybe a little bit for me as well. Something, and some people, that deserve to be acknowledged, and to be remembered.

"Clarke?"

I blink, realizing I got lost in thought a little, and avert my gaze from the flames in front of me up to her face above me; my cheek missing the contact with her lap right away. She's smiling down on me. Her expression is soft, despite a tinge of sorrow in her eyes.

"I really missed you," she quietly tells me. "And you have no idea how much I hate myself for shutting you out, and for—"

"Ssh," I hush her, "Just go back to the missing part."

"I missed you - a lot," she says again, "I missed talking with you. Laughing with you. Holding you. Damn, I really miss kissing you." Startled by her own words she flinches. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't... I don't mean to push—"

"Do it," I cut her off again. I sit up, bringing my face close to her. "Kiss me."

The way she inhales tells me she's tensed. She doesn't need to be.

"You're sure?" she whispers.

I nod, moving even closer until our noses brush together. "More than anything."

And then her lips are finally back where they belong.

On mine.

... ...

Chapter Text

The night is clear. Clear and black. No clouds, no moon. Showing us its brightest stars. Hundreds, thousands, no, countless stars twinkling overhead, ready to show me the way. The way to the north. To Mom.

Soon.

But not now.

Now we are here. Together. Clarke and I.

On a blanket on the grass in a little backyard - our own tiny paradise. Tomorrow we will go out into the world again. We will start our plan that has a beginning, but not yet an end. Our plan that still needs more thought, more planning. Our plan that needs to be further talked about.

But not now.

Now I don't want any more talking. Not about what happened - recently as well as years ago. And not about what's to come. There's only so much you can plan in this world anyway. I don't want to waste my breath on it. Not now.

Now I am lying in her arms. My head resting on her shoulder, her cheek warm against my forehead. She's as quiet as I am, but in those little moments that she speaks, I can feel the lightest graze of her lips against my skin.

Her lips that were on mine only a moment ago, when I finally got to kiss her. And when she kissed me back with no hesitation.

She did.

She kissed me back and I kept kissing her—simply not knowing how to stop anymore—and then for a little while that was all there was, all we were. The two of us, being one. Just holding each other, and kissing each other - in the slowest, most probing way, gauging each other's reaction before taking it any further, before deepening it, as if either of us could break at any moment.

She kissed me back. In the most precious way. And with it, she brought me back to life. Again.

With her heartbeat close to mine and our fingers mindlessly playing with each other, a sudden melody comes to mind. An old one, from a vinyl record my grandma used to listen to. The lyrics quickly follow and I start to hum, then before I know it I feel myself softly starting to mumble.

"Come bring me your softness. Comfort me through all this madness. Woman, don't you know, with you I'm born again?"

My voice is so low I'm not even sure I'm singing out loud. Which is why I'm not prepared for any reaction, and even more, why I'm highly surprised when after a short moment of silence Clarke's melodious voice suddenly sounds in response.

"Come give me your sweetness. Now there's you, there is no weakness. Lying safe within your arms, I'm born again."

Wide-eyed, I look up from underneath my lashes.

"You know this one?!"

Clarke smiles down on me and giggles, her lips tickling me again. "How about that, huh?"

I can feel my face light up with a little grin and snuggle even closer, nuzzling my nose into her neck. She plants a kiss on the top of my head.

"Will you ever stop to amaze me?" I ask her, knowing the answer already.

"Will you?"

"I hope not," I answer truthfully.

"Then let that be our pact," she proposes. "Our vow to each other."

With no pen around to put my signature down, I quickly go for the alternative: I tilt my head and press a kiss on her collarbone.

"Deal."

The world around us turns still again. Still and peaceful. But the tune, the words and most of all the meaning of them are still in my head - eager to get out. To do what I haven't done for too long.

To share with her.

"I was half, not whole," I serenely pick up where we left off. "In step with none. Reaching through this world, in need of one."

She doesn't take over this time, but joins me for the next line; our voices a tad louder now, and perfectly in sync.

"Come show me your kindness. In your arms I know I'll find this."

As our harmony fills the sky I let go of her and prop myself up on my elbow. My gaze glides over her beautiful face, which is softly glowing by the light of the camp fire, and our smiling eyes meet, making my heart skip a beat.

But there's no time to get lost in the moment. When Clarke opens her mouth again, ready to go on, I swiftly lay my finger on her lips. She falls quiet right away, yet her eyes show nothing but joy and curiosity. For once the gesture has nothing to do with any danger coming toward us and she knows it.

She wiggles her brows, playfully, telling me that whatever is coming, is coming from me and is more than welcome.

I slowly bring my hand to her face and tuck a few strands of her hair behind her ear. From there my finger slides further down, following the contour of her jaw, until I reach her chin. I lift it up, just an inch, and lean in.

Her eyes flutter shut when my lips gently touch hers, and I can feel the tip of her tongue searching for mine. When I pull back before she succeeds, a small whimper escapes her, but then our eyes lock and I know she can read in mine that I'm not going anywhere. That there's just one more thing I want her to hear - for real.

It's the one thing that feels bigger than any I need you, or I'll never leave you or even I love you. In the end, those are things that could be said to anyone. Meant, even. But this, these words, are reserved just for her. For the one person who keeps saving me from two lives, by giving me one in return - one life that's brand new, and in which I can actually be me.

And I want, no, I need her to know that I know that.

"What is it?" she asks when I linger, too busy with losing myself in her eyes while I'm trying to keep it together.

I swallow, shake my head without letting go of her gaze, then softly chant one more time, 

"Oh woman, don't you know.... with YOU I'm born again."

... ...

Chapter Text

We're back on the road. The same road we walked five weeks ago, though this time we're heading in the opposite direction. We already passed the abyss Clarke fell into. And a dilapidated playground I recognized from before, the one we'd used for a short break to rest our legs.

We also crossed way with a bunch of walkers again, more than once actually, but so far there haven't been any real herds today.

By now I've learned that when it's just a few of them, walkers don't scare me anymore. They can be quite an inconvenience, but as long as you're armed they're hardly ever a real threat, especially when you outnumber them. Yet I'm also very aware never to underestimate them, or the situation itself. Especially when there are no walls to offer protection, you can never lose your attention, never let your guard down.

You always have to be ready.

And yes, in a way it's as tiring as it sounds, but I'm also starting to get used to it. Accept it, even. The fact that them being around is apparently a given that comes with living here. It's not great, but it's still a whole lot better than having to live underground because of radiation, or having to fight until death over the last square miles of habitable land.

After another sharp curve in the road we come across the rusty, flat-tired vehicle we had to leave behind the last time we were here. It looks even more sad to me than before. A little further on there is another stranded car. We can tell from a distance that it's of no use. It's completely dented, not to mention missing a wheel. Nevertheless I want to explore it, see if I can find anything useful in it.

About a week ago, Michonne took Judith and me out on a supply run, as she thought it was time to teach us the the do's and don'ts that come with scavenging. She told us what to take, but just as well what to leave - for the next ones to collect, but most of all to avoid the extra weight, as weight always slows you down. She showed us how to clear a place, room by room, and where there's still a chance to find the essentials—food, water, medicines, weapons—even after ten years of people passing by before us and checking those exact same spots. Cupboards and shelves are empty by now, but every building comes with a hiding place, she explained to us. Find the hiding place, find the gold.

That afternoon we searched six houses. I found a little jar of aspirines, some batteries, a pocket knife and a bag full of coins that are completely useless these days, so I learned, but somehow looked like a real treasure to me, so I secretly took three of them anyway. It was a lot of work to find just a handful of stuff, but I loved every minute of it. I loved it more than sitting in class to learn about math, and I definitely loved it more than having to command an army and make people fight against each other. Neither of those things ever felt like my purpose, despite people thinking otherwise, but this, I felt... this I could keep doing forever.

Which is why I ignore Clarke and the others as soon as we reach the abandoned car and climb into it anyway - through the back all the way to the glove compartment. I don't expect to find a gun in there, I'm not that naive to think anyone would leave their weapon behind when forced to leave a car. But no one takes everything. The extra weight rule counts for everyone. Whoever was here before me only took the most essential to them. The question is: what did they leave?

After all, someone's trash is another one's treasure.

The moment I scramble out of the car, Clarke sighs with annoyance.

"Madi, you can't keep holding us up like this. We never get there before dark if you do."

"She's right, girl," Strand backs her up, "There's no need for any hoarding. We've got enough food with us for days. Right now it all comes to making miles."

"I know that," I nod, before tilting my head. "But where to?"

"Where to?" Clarke frowns. She takes a step closer, as if she feels a sudden need to examine me. Maybe even touch my forehead to check for a fever. "You know where to! We're going back to the camp, before trying to find our way to Cleveland."

"...and beyond!" Lexa swiftly adds from right behind her.

"Exactly, we're trying to," I repeat, before showing them the road map in my hands. "Don't you wanna avoid running in circles?"

I take Clarke's deep grumble as a yes.

And with that we continue our way. More asphalt to follow, more woods to cross.

Lexa shows up next to me. She hasn't snapped at me since that one night. Nonetheless I feel immediate tension creeping up into my neck. I don't want to feel this way. I want to trust her. But it feels as if I can expect another blow of rejection at any time. And just like with those walking dead, I need to be ready for that.

A bite is a bite after all.

So I square myself, prepared for another outburst. Yet this time she doesn't raise her voice. She doesn't even berate me for checking out that car, despite their clear objections.

"Hey kiddo," she just says.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye without slowing down my pace. She smiles at me, genuinely, but I don't smile back nor say anything in return. Instead I keep focusing on the road in front of me like she's not even there. I don't want to act like this. I just do.

"You're okay?" she asks, ignoring my poor attempt to ignore her.

I shove my hands in my pockets, murmuring, "Why wouldn't I be?"

My eyes are still on the horizon, but I can tell Lexa's are not. They're on me.

"Because you had to leave Alexandria? I know you liked it there."

"I did. It's a nice place, with nice people. Friends of my age. The first I ever had, in case you didn't know. So yeah, I would not have mind staying there, like maybe even forever," I confess, before finally looking up at her. Our eyes meet. "But I get why we couldn't. Why you needed to go."

Her brows furrow in puzzlement as she tilts her head a little. "There's a difference between me needing to go and you having to come along, leaving it all behind."

"No, there isn't," I tell her wrong. "To you, I might not be your sister. But to me, you are. And that means I'll follow you. Everywhere if needed."

I avert my eyes again, until I feel the light touch of her hand on my shoulder. As I stare at her lean fingers holding on to me, at her thumb stroking my upper arm, I can feel my throat close up.

"Oh Madi," she sighs, "Ai strisis... Of course you're my sister. You are! I should have told you that from the start. I just..."

Her voice falters, making me move my gaze from her hand up to her face again. It's clouded with sadness and regret.

I sigh. I really want to stay upset a little longer. Make a fuss, just to make her feel what I'm feeling. But when I look at her like this, I know she already does. There's no need to make things any harder. I don't even think I still can. I already feel my anger slip away, making room for something else. For understanding.

"I know." I force my lips into some sort of smile. An olive branch. "You weren't ready."

"It wasn't about you," she reassures me.

I nod, before looking at the road again. "I know," I just say once more.

Lexa lets go of me. Too soon, I realize as soon as she does. She isn't done, however.

"It wasn't about you, but that's no excuse for my behavior. I hurt you, and I'm incredibly sorry for that," she goes on. "You are an amazing kid. You really are. I need you to hear that. I could not have wished for a better sister than you."

I narrow my eyes, shooting her another quick glance. "You're sure about that?"

"Of course I am! Why would you doubt that?"

"Because I'm part of a past you want to erase," I shrug. "Clarke told me. You made your choice. Didn't you?"

Lexa presses her lips together, then slowly nods. "I did," she admits, "But there's a little more to it. I'm still trying to figure it out, but I do know I won't leave it all behind. I can't, and I don't want to. Some parts are too important. Some people deserve to be memorialized. Costia, Lincoln,—"

"—our parents?"

I clench my jaw, almost literally biting off my tongue, but the words are already out.

She doesn't get mad though. Instead, she surprises me by wrapping her arm around my shoulders and pulling me against her - almost making me trip over my own feet.

"Yes, them too," she affirms with simple directness. She can't hide the pain in her eyes, but her smile seems sincere. "They saved you, after all."

She pecks my temple, then loses her grip on me. Yet this time she doesn't pull away completely. With her arm still loosely around my shoulders we keep stepping forward - towards a future that will finally set her free.

"Lexa?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think when all this is over, when we've found your mom—"

"If," she corrects me, but not preferring that option, I choose not to hear her.

"When we've found her," I go on, "do you think we can come back here?"

"To Alexandria, you mean?"

She looks over her shoulder at the road behind us, as if Alexandria is still in sight there. When she turns her head again, her eyes fix on the horizon ahead of us. Behind it lives a group of people she can never meet again. With the question still in the air, I realize I just asked her for the impossible. Coming back to this area really is the worst idea possible.

And if I know that, she definitely does.

"Yeah," she answers nevertheless, "Maybe, one day."

She shows me another smile and this time I answer it, without difficulty, and not at all bothered by the little white lie that's comfortably hanging between us. I know Alexandria won't be an option anymore. But I also know she wants me to be happy, and she will try anything to make that happen. In one way or another, she wants to chase that dream with me.

To find a place to settle down. A place we can call home. Where we can live together, as the family that we are.

... ...

The next day we find ourselves back in the tent. The one with the throne they built for me, but ended up being Lexa's. It's empty now, waiting patiently for her return.

I wonder if anyone will ever sit on it again.

Lexa and Strand stayed behind in the woods, at least two miles away from here, on the crossroad where we said goodbye to Jesus. So right now, it's just Clarke and me, facing Bellamy, Indra and Gaia who are lined up next to each other like this is some official visit. They look worried. I guess us returning here without Lexa is enough to raise some questions.

"Where is she?" Indra asks Clarke. Her voice is insistent, demanding almost. Now that we've retreated into the shelter of the tent, she wants the answer Clarke didn't give her when they welcomed us at the edge of the camp, a few minutes ago. All Clarke has shared this far is about Raven's decision to stay in Alexandria, passing the message that she asked for Shaw to join her there.

But that's not what they really need to know right now.

Clarke inhales deeply, then answers wordlessly by opening her fist into a flat palm, showing them all what she's been holding within.

It's Lexa's headpiece. The Commander's emblem.

"Heda is gone," she tells them at last.

As soon as the words are out, they all stare at us, their eyes wide and full of disbelief. Ultimately, it's Bellamy who speaks first.

"Gone? Gone how?! Did she leave?"

Clarke shakes her head. Slowly, as if she has to force herself to do so.

"No."

It's the shortest answer possible, yet the only one that says it all. They don't need any more time to let the truth sink in. 

With a defeated look on her face, Indra steps forward, reaching for Clarke's hand. Yet to my surprise, she doesn't take the little wheel. As their fingers touch, she gently moves Clarke's back up until they are closed around the small piece again. Like she wants it to be protected. To keep it safe.

Or maybe the sight of it is just too painful?

"Did she... Did they get her?" she breathes. "Those... biters?"

Clarke answers her with a quiet nod.

"But she's protected, isn't she? With the nightblood vaccine?" Bellamy now asks. "She can't have turned."

Casting a quick glance at me, Clarke swallows, then focuses on our friends again. She doesn't have to act, doesn't need to pretend to be in pain. I know lying to them in this... this horrifying way is hurting her almost as much as actually losing Lexa. But she has no choice. She has to finish what she started.

She takes another long breath.

"She didn't turn. It wasn't just one walker, or one bite. Trying to protect us, she fell prey to a pack. Out of nowhere there were dozens of them. They pounced on her, all of them. Gave her no chance to escape. She screamed at us to run. Kept screaming, even when they were already..."

A shaky gasp rattles in her throat. Her eyes find Indra's again.

"By the time we could finally get back to her, there was... there was almost nothing left of her."

Wincing by the gruesome image, Bellamy gulps for air, while Gaia stumbles backwards in shock, her hand covering her open mouth. When her heel hits one of the stools behind her, she drops herself down on it. Indra is the only one who doesn't move. At all.

"Except that," she mumbles, her eyes on Clarke's hand.

Before Clarke can answer her, I turn around, showing Indra my back, or rather the weapon that's hanging on there.

"And her sword," I tell her, spinning back to face her again. "It's yours if you want to. I'm sure Lexa would want you to have it."

She shows me the weakest smile possible. Knowing how much it must take her, it both warms and sorrows me.

"You keep it," she says.

"How about the Flame?" Gaia quietly speaks up.

I'm not surprised that this is her first question. After all, the Flame and everything that comes with it has been her life for years. But that doesn't mean I am not glad to notice how the news affects her. Not that I want to see anyone in pain, but come on, we're talking Lexa here. She deserves the grief.

"Gone," Clarke answers her. "We searched for it. Even in the stomachs of the few walkers that were still there, the ones we did get to kill. But we were too late. One of the first ones must have swallowed it, before wandering off."

"So it's still around somewhere, she could still be—"

"No," Clarke cuts her off rather brusquely. "It's gone. Destroyed. Either by teeth, or by gastric acid - and God knows what else those beasts carry with them." She walks up to her, kneels down and rests her hand on Gaia's arm. A tender gesture to soften her sharp voice. "I'm sorry. I really am. But the days of the Flame are over."

Bellamy's low sigh draws our attention back to him. He's scratching his head, looking a little bewildered. No... a little lost. I don't think I've ever seen him like that before.

"What are we gonna do now?" he questions out loud.

Clarke raises a shoulder and shakes her head again. "That's really up to you."

He frowns. "To us, you mean?" He gestures a circle with his hand, including us all.

Stepping backwards, Clarke takes a stand right next to me, dividing our group in two again. "No, to you," she tells him. There's a hint of regret in her voice, but overall she sounds unwavering. Whatever they will try to convince her with, it won't be enough; she made up her mind. "You, Indra and Diyoza, if you wanna keep leading this people. With a free choice for everyone else to either stay or go, as Lexa told you before."

"Which is what you're doing? You two are going?"

Once again Clarke just nods at him.

He opens his mouth to protest, maybe even yell at her, but before any sound comes out he suddenly exhales and hangs his head.

"Why?" he sighs beneath his breath.

"You know why."

His gaze moves up again, but he doesn't respond.

"I lost my everything, Bell," she quietly tells him, before taking my hand in hers and softly squeezing it. "One half of my everything. I am... I am not me anymore, and I never will be. That's something I'll have to live with. I don't know how yet, but you know me. You know I'll try. But all this," she waves her hand around, "and all of you, will keep reminding me. Of her. Of what could have been. It will keep me trapped."

After another squeeze, she lets go of me and steps closer to her friend. As she lays her hand on his shoulder she looks up to meet his eyes. I can't see hers from where I'm standing, but I know they're filled with sorrow. Even though they haven't always been on the same side, there's so much history between them. You don't just step away from that.

"I'm sorry," she says in a voice soft with affection, "Even if I wanted to, I can't stay."

This time, in lieu of trying to change her mind, he just nods in silence.

"There's one more thing," Clarke continues, looking at all three of them again. "My mother. Is she still up there, with Marcus?"

Indra gives her a nod. "She is."

"Is she okay?"

It's a simple question, but for some reason they all linger in answering it, which is never a good sign. After they share a brief look, it's Gaia who breaks their quietness. Wringing her hands, she clears her throat before speaking up.

"We have no reason to believe she's not, but we've lost radio contact. We haven't been able to reach them since yesterday. Shaw and Jordan are trying to fix it."

"There's no need to worry," Bellamy quickly adds.

"I'm not worried," Clarke states, abruptly crossing the tent and disappearing behind the curtain to collect the few items she'd left there last month. And—knowing Clarke—probably also to distract and re-balance herself while hiding out of sight. "I just..."

She doesn't finish, but she doesn't have to. She just lost the one chance to say goodbye to her mom. Who wouldn't need at least a minute to process that?

When she returns, she's carrying two bags. I speed towards her to meet her halfway and take one of them. It's not heavy, but right now I can't think of any other way to show her that she's not alone in this.

"Clarke," Bellamy breaks our collective silence, but she's already ahead of him.

"When my mother decides to come down here, please tell her to find Raven. Neither of them will ever admit it, but those two need each other like the sea needs the moon. Tell her not to worry about me, as I promise to be okay out there." She straps the bag over her shoulder, her eyes averted from any of us. "And tell her I love her - always."

Before anyone can say anything in return, she steps close to Bellamy again and embraces him tight and wholeheartedly. I follow her example and wrap my arms around Gaia, and then Indra.

We all say our goodbyes. We thank each other. And we tell each other to stay safe.

But for the first time since I can remember, we don't tell each other we may meet again.

... ...

Chapter Text

"I'm going to tell you a story that's so unlikely, you won't believe it. Even though every word is true. And I'm not going to convince you to believe me. I'm not even gonna try. Because I know I won't be able to. So I'm just gonna tell you, and then it's up to you."

Strand looks at me without a word. He knows what's coming, he's been waiting for it for days. An explanation from my side. About all those things that are impossible to comprehend. Even for someone who knows me, or believes he does.

He nods as a sign that I have his attention.

"Many years ago, there used to be a world other than ours, but very much alike," I start. "A world with people who formed a society. People with ambition, with science and technology. Leading to great inventions and innovations... until eventually they took it one step too far, to that inevitable moment that only knows one outcome: disaster. In the blink of an eye that world was gone. Not like this one, but completely. Hit by a nuclear wave of death, sparing no one, except for a very small group of survivors - the few who were quick and lucky enough to find shelter, either deep in the ground or high in the sky."

Strand's gaze moves up to the heavens above us, like there's any proof to find there of people once living in the clouds. I know he won't find any and that this isn't the weirdest part of the story—by far—so I swiftly go on.

"After the catastrophe the earth of that world, or what had remained of it, was uninhabitable. Lethal even. In a big set-your-foot-on-it-and-you-are-gone kind of way. Most of the refugees, including the ones in space, believed that it wouldn't be safe again for at least a hundred years. But one group of people found a way out. For a short while, they had this brilliant scientist among them and she'd created a serum that protected them from the radiation, which was indeed still poisoning the air - and would do so for many years. This serum allowed people to leave the bunker they'd been hiding in and to rediscover the little that was left of their world. Only two years had past, but it had been enough to leave everything in ruins... including their civilization. They had to start all over, and they did. Except, for whatever reason, they changed almost everything they once knew. Even their language. And they fought. Not just with the challenges of their new environment, but most of all with each other. Forming groups, until they became each other's enemies."

"Sounds familiar," Strand remarks dryly.

"I know," I nod, "I guess it's part of human nature, though not our prettiest side."

I shift in my place. Our seat on the corrugated iron roof of this old little shed is anything but comfortable, to say the least. It gives us a bit of a view and some protection though, which means I can finally focus on my friend and our long delayed conversation. I rub my calf to relax the sudden cramps, then turn toward him again to continue.

"So, here we have this world, inhabited by about two thousand people, divided into tribes, yet in spite of all their differences still under the command of only one leader. The Commander. Or Heda, in Trigedasleng."

His brows knit together. "In what?"

"In their language," I clarify.

"Right," he nods, but I doubt if he's still with me. By now my tale must sound like some fantasy or sci-fi, or whatever comic he might have been reading as a teen.

But there's no way back now.

"Although their new world knew many dangers, both old and new ones, these survivors managed to conquer them and eventually build some kind of life," I go on. "A second generation was born, and then a third and even a fourth. The arrival of the newborns let to a new discovery: the serum they'd once injected, and that had altered them genetically, didn't get passed on to most of their offspring - even though it kept protecting them all from the radiation in the same way as it protected their parents."

"How could they tell if the effect was still the same?"

"It showed," I explain. I look at my hands in my lap, realizing I'm subconsciously tracing the lines of my veins with my thumb. When I hold still, I can feel the soft beating of my pulse underneath my skin. "Their blood, or nightblood as they called it, was black."

He pulls a face, probably trying to picture it, but doesn't ask any further.

I heave a sigh, preparing myself for the next part. The part that I hate the most.

"Now I told you about that one Commander. There was always only one at the time, but over all these years—a century almost—there were many. And succession was not a next-in-line matter. After all, they weren't royals. So this is were those nightblood babies come in. With every new generation, they became more unique and with that more important, since for many complicated reasons law stated that the next Commander had to be one of them. For this reason, the few children who were indeed born with nightblood got separated from their parents at very young age and trained to become this ultimate leader. And since the life of a Commander came with a life full of danger, battle and enemies, that day often came quick. With those children still being children."

"Wait," Strand stops me, "You said there was only one Commander. But there were more children who got trained. What happened to them?"

"They died," I answer, before quickly correcting myself. "No, that doesn't do them justice. They got killed."

"Well shit," he mumbles.

Biting my lip, I slowly nod. "Yes," I just say. I couldn't agree more.

My gaze drifts off until Strand's voice pulls me back. "I think I'm following," he says, "but what does all this have to do with you?"

Understanding his impatience, my lips curl into a soft smile.

"I'm getting there," I nod again, yet a little more firm this time. "Like I said, almost a hundred years went by since the nuclear apocalypse. Since one society ended, and a new one began, slowly evolving in something you and I wouldn't recognize, unless maybe from history class. To paint you a picture, I guess it comes closest to medieval times."

For a second his eyes flick to the sword on my back. It's the only segment of Lexa I took with me, as I gave the other one to Madi, after already switching back to modern clothes weeks ago, when we arrived in Alexandria. The ancient look of the weapon must have puzzled him from the start, but even now he doesn't ask.

"Their ways were different, but they worked for them. This was their normal, especially after so many years," I continue. "And with it, Commanders came and went. Some were good, some were bad - tyrannic even. But one way or another they were all in charge, all fighting for what they believed in. They were all nothing else, nothing more than this people's Heda. And they were all way too young. There were many, but I'm telling you this story because of only one. One girl who had to live as their Commander, and then in good tradition, had to die as one."

Forcing myself to finish, I take the deepest breath possible.

"Her name was Lexa," I finally conclude as my eyes find his again, "and I am her."

Strand stares at me without moving. He stays quiet, way longer than usual. As I hold my breath, I nervously fidget with my fingers.

"Say something. Or at least... blink."

He clears his throat. "You said she died. So how could she be you?"

"I don't know. I have no explanation. Not even any proof. I just know that she is. She is me. I am her."

"And you're not talking about starting over with a new identity. You actually mean... coming back from the death?"

"Yes. Well, n-no," I stammer, "Not exactly. It's more like... some kind of reincarnation. I guess. I really don't know."

Strand breaks our eye contact and looks away, his eyes now on the road that Clarke and Madi took earlier and have yet to return from.

"So those people you were talking about before, those people Clarke is meeting right now—"

"—are my people," I nod. "My subjects, so to speak."

Another silence falls upon us. I don't know what to do with that. I'd expected him to call me crazy, or laugh in my face, or maybe both. But not to be without any words. He never is.

I sigh. "I told you you wouldn't believe this."

"Well, you were right about that," he says, scratching the back of his neck before looking at me again. "I can't believe this. But I can believe you." Careful not to fall off our little hide-out, he moves his body toward me and takes my hand with the both of his. "I choose to believe you, Alicia."

"You do?" I frown. I mean, I'd be over the moon if he really would, but seriously, I wouldn't even believe me.

"I do. Despite this whole story, which is like... beyond incredible, I believe—no, I know—that I know you. For real. Would you be anyone else, then yes, I would say you were cuckoo. Worse off than those hungry deads out there. But it is you. And I can't think of a single reason why you would make any of this up."

I exhale, then thank him with a small, grateful smile.

"Besides," he goes on, "we live in a world where the deceased wake up, only to eat the living. Talk about unbelievable!" He squints his eyes at me. "Wait, you're not going to eat me, are you?"

A snort escapes me, and though I do welcome the light moment that comes with the joke, I punch him on the arm. "Do I look brain-dead to you!?"

Strand shakes his head and joins my laughter. "Everything but," he chuckles. "To be honest, for the last couple of months you look more alive to me than ever."

"Well, thank you," I grin. Feeling a lot more relaxed now that the truth is out, I shift again, stretching my legs before dangling them down. I glance sideways at him. "I mean it though. Thank you. For not calling the nuthouse on me. And you know... for being you."

He bumps my shoulder with his. "You're not saying this Lexa girl inside you is making you sentimental, are you?"

"Oh, shut up!"

The bump I give him in return almost knocks him off the roof. It's moments like these that I understand why he and Mom connected so well. I seriously wouldn't be surprised if they'd shared friendship bracelets saying cut the crap.

"Do you have any more questions?" I ask him. The road in front of us still looks quiet and empty, with no single sign of Clarke and Madi returning to us.

"Only a million!" he exclaims, drawing another laugh from me.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and cocks his head, making sure he can look into my eyes. His are filled with curiosity, even more than before.

"The blood? I've seen you wounded. Yours isn't black."

"It wasn't. Not anymore." I pull my pocket knife out and prick my finger. "But it is now."

Watching the black drop, his eyes grow wide.

"Anything else?" I ask, wiping my finger on my pants. 

He blinks and shakes his head, as if to get rid of the surreal image, then looks at me again; his head tilted, and the hint of a smile curling his lips.

"Who's Clarke?"

He might want to sound serious, like a detective or investigator maybe, but all he reminds me of right now is one of those nosy red carpet reporters. I chuckle and shake my head in disbelief, but skip the jokes when I answer him.

"She's a descendant of what we called the Sky people. She grew up in space. Clarke was actually among the firsts that came back to our earth to explore its safety. She landed straight into my territory."

He snorts. "Oh, is that how we call it?!"

Yep, gossip queen it is.

I shoot him a do-you-wanna-hear-this-or-not look and he quickly bites his lips, though not before giving me one last, teasing wink. Trying not to laugh, I roll my eyes.

"Let's just say she and her people made quite the entrance," I go on. "There were casualties. Many. First on my side, then on hers. Like I said, things were different, and our justice system was very simple. An eye for an eye. So our people fought. And Clarke and I fought. She even put a knife to my throat once. We had reason enough to hate each other, and we really tried to. But we failed immensely."

"You two fell in love?" It's hardly a question.

"Very, very hard," I nod.

"So she died too, then? Since she's here as well?"

"No, she uhm..." I suck my lips between my teeth, thinking how to explain this next inexplicable part. "She took a different route. It's uhm... complex."

To my relief he seems to accept my non-answer. Instead he smiles, as if nostalgia suddenly overtakes him. "You're lucky, finding each other again. In spite of every imaginable thing. I'm telling you, I would give anything to have a second chance with Thomas like that."

I smile at him in return, not fighting any of his words, before looking down the road again - searching for that first glimpse of Clarke's return. He's right, I am lucky. Things have been hard and God knows I'm still struggling with half of it, but there's no doubt that when it comes to this, Clarke and I must be the luckiest people in the world.

And there really is nothing bigger than this.

While my thoughts drift off to the past a bit more, Strand already makes his way back to the present.

"How about Madi?" he jumps to his next question. "She's Clarke's daughter, right?"

"Adopted daughter, yes. Madi is born on the ground. She's actually my—"

"Crap!!!"

Strand's sudden scream makes me follow his gaze. A group of at least sixty walkers is making its way toward us - showing up out of nowhere, but most importantly: from the dropship's direction, taking over the only road that matters to me. I draw my sword and stand up, trying to get a better look.

"There are even more behind them," I tell Strand, who already jumped to the ground. "Stay up here!"

"Are you kidding me? This shack won't hold for five seconds!"

Caught in conflict, I don't move. I know he's right, there's no protection up here against so many. But there's no alternative in sight and there's definitely no way that I'm leaving this place before Clarke and Madi return.

"Alicia, come on!" Strand now impatiently screams, forcing himself to wait for me, while every part of his restless body shows me he wants to run.

I give in and quickly make my way to the ground, but instead of making a break for it, I grab Strand by his sleeve, preventing him from taking off.

"We fight them!"

He pulls away from my grip.

"No way! We don't stand a chance. There are too many. Even with your sword. And your..." He hesitates, turning his head to the side for a second to look me over. "... your battle history."

"I don't care, I'm not going anywhere," I grumble as I get in position to cut off some heads. "I can't. I... I promised."

Strand makes some deep sound that's between a groan and a whine, and when he calls for me again his voice is colored in frustration. And I get it. The herd is coming closer and closer toward us and seems to grow with every dragging step they take. It won't take long before this junction will be flooded with walkers. But I feel glued to the ground. Simply unable to move.

It's not all up to me though. Right before the dead get too close to escape from any longer, Strand harshly takes me by my arm and drags me with him - with success, since he's the stronger one of us. And though I give him my everything, he doesn't let go of me.

He pulls me with him and all I can do is run along. And, for like two seconds, look back over my shoulder.

The shed is gone. The intersection completely overrun.

We keep running for what feels like a mile, passing even more walkers that are now also showing up from behind the trees aside us, until we finally reach some sort of hamlet with a couple of abandoned houses. At least, that's what we're praying for when we blindly run into one, heavily panting as we close the door behind us and look around for any possible danger inside. There doesn't seem to be any.

We're safe.

But we're anywhere near where we need to be.

... ...

Chapter Text

Even before we reach the crossing where Lexa and Strand are waiting for us, I can tell something is wrong.

The asphalt underneath our feet looks different than it did a few hours ago. It hasn't been raining, yet there are some puddles now here and there, smeared over the road surface by trailing footsteps. Body fluids. I don't want to know what kind.

I spot a lost shoe. Then, half a mile or so further on, the rotten leg that might have belonged to it.

More and more bushes along the road show broken branches, telling me the group that strolled down this road either shrunk, with walkers disappearing into the woods, or grew bigger with more of them showing up from there. The question answers itself when we get to the open space of the junction.

The terrain looks like a herd of boars has plowed through it. The shed I remember being there is gone; the wood boards of the walls pulverized and the corrugated iron roof now in pieces and scattered around the site.

A dead silence tells me the danger has passed. The walkers are gone - in transit, as always. By the looks of it, they've taken all possible directions from here. A true crossroad indeed.

There's no sign of Lexa, nor Strand.

"They are not here," Madi speaks up. "You think the herd got them?"

I can hear the panic in her voice, the fear that I feel rising in my own chest as well. I fight to suppress it though, to stay calm. Resting one hand on her shoulder, I cup the other above my eyes to have a better look.

"I don't see anything indicating any kind of battle took place here. There are no corpses lying around, like that time we'd ran into that herd on our way to Alexandria. And no signs or traces of human harm." A deep sigh escapes me. If only a lack of their blood would be enough of a reassurance.

"So they left?" Madi looks up at me, her eyes wide and full of disbelief. "They left us?!"

I shake my head. "No."

"Clarke, they're gone! Lexa, she's—"

"No!" I say again, a little louder this time. "She wouldn't do that, she would never leave me again." I swallow, struggling with a sudden lump in my throat. "She promised."

Madi takes a few steps forward, looks around for any signs we might have missed so far, then looks over her shoulder.

"How can you be sure, after everything that happened?"

I open my mouth to answer her, then abruptly close it again. She doesn't know about that time Lexa left me in the woods, the day after I found her again. And though she must have picked up on our recent struggles, I'm sure she doesn't know about Rosita either.

So instead of answering her, I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean?"

She turns around. "She's been in my head, remember?" she shrugs, almost casually. "I've seen it, as through my own eyes. How she left you at Mount Weather."

"That was ages ago. And something totally different."

"Maybe, yes. But can you be sure? You know just as well that she's been following her own course ever since we met her. Just the way she used to."

Tilting my head, I frown at her. "What's with the skepticism? I thought you were okay with Lexa?"

When Madi stays quiet I step closer towards her.

"Listen, I know a lot has happened. And I know you worry about me. You shouldn't, but you do. But you're wrong here. Lexa isn't using us. And she didn't ditch us. We're in this together - till the end."

Madi averts her eyes, mumbling, "How do you know?"

"Well, first of all, she came into space with me when you were harmed, even though she seriously shitted her pants!" Thinking back of Lexa's pale cheeks, a soft chuckle falls of my lips, but when my eyes find Madi's again I make sure there's no laughter in my voice. "And second, she loves us. She loves me, and she sure as hell loves you, too."

Before she can say anything in response I pull her in for a tight hug, as if to make her feel that love through me. I can feel her small, tensed body pressed against mine. And I understand. With all she's been through in her short life. With losing people. With being left alone. To her getting abandoned is a real possibility. A real fear. With everything that happened to her, her brain is set to walk that path. To follow that conviction.

It's up to me, and the people around her, to prove her wrong.

"She promised me," I whisper, my lips now close to her ear. "She promised me to never leave again. So she didn't."

... ...

There's no other choice for us than to wait. With four roads going in literally every direction, and no hint which one they took, the chance of getting further away from them is bigger than the chance of finding them.

We do search the area around the junction, but it doesn't bring us anything. I try to comfort myself with the idea that this is a good sign. At least there's no immediate reason to assume they didn't get away alive.

Madi doesn't question my faith and thus my decision to stay any longer, at least not out loud, but I can tell she isn't totally convinced. And when twilight starts to set in I can't blame her for getting worried.

"Clarke, come on, we have to find a place for the night," she tells me, looking more restless by the minute.

We're sitting on the concrete in the middle of the crossing, where the two roads meet. Our backs against each other, our eyes on every possible movement.

"Five more minutes," I answer, and in my head I start counting.

I'm at two hundred and thirty-eight seconds when I hear her, even before I can see her. It's just my name, but that one word is enough to recognize her voice, and the relief within it.

"Clarke!!"

My head shoots in her direction, right when she comes into sight, and I jump up faster than I figured myself possible. But I don't move. Conflicted with two instincts at once—running towards her and staying here to protect Madi—I sort of freeze. It doesn't matter though. Lexa starts running instead, closing the distance before I can blink twice. Without saying a word she wraps her arms around me and pulls me close, her chest beating against mine.

Too soon for my liking she loosens her grip, but she doesn't let go of me. With her free arm she pulls Madi into our embrace. For a moment we're just standing there like that, the three of us as one.

"I'm sorry," Lexa exhales into my hair. Her breath shudders.

"For what?" I murmur, "For staying alive? Please, never apologize for that!"

"For leaving you," she quietly answers, "I didn't want to. I wanted to stay. I really did! But Strand made me."

I pull away so I can look her in the eyes. They're filled with sorrow. "Hey, hey... it's okay! You didn't leave me. You're here now, aren't you? In one piece. Remind me to thank Strand for that!"

When Lexa's expression doesn't change, I squint my eyes, my brows drawing together. "Wait, he's okay too, isn't he? Tell me he's fine!"

"He's fine," Lexa nods. A tired, deep breath escapes her lungs. "He's in this abandoned house we found shelter in, about a mile down this road."

Madi lets go of us and picks up her backpack from the ground.

"Alright, let's go then," she says with her eyes on the darkening sky. And this time I have no reason to fight her.

... ...

"Is she asleep?"

As I enter the room and close the door behind me, Lexa looks up at me. She's made us a place to sleep which is far from as nice as our bed in Alexandria, but will definitely do.

I nod at her. "She dozed off in like a second. Completely worn out." My lips curl into a smile. "She even let me help make her a bed. Out of energy to hide behind her teenage facade."

Lexa smiles back at me. "When you're sick or tired, there's nothing like your mom taking care of you."

"Even when you are a former army commander?" I arch one of my brows, which makes her laugh.

"Especially when you are a former army commander!"

We share another chuckle.

"How about Strand?" I ask her. I squat down to untie my shoes, though my eyes are still on her.

"Downstairs, keeping an eye on the door," she answers, "So probably passed out."

Getting back up I kick off my shoes, then start unbuttoning my blouse. "Should we be worried about that?"

"Nah, everything's locked. We'll be okay tonight." She takes a step towards me, her voice dropping a beat as she goes on, "I'm so sorry for this afternoon."

I stare at her for a moment, then shake my head in silence as I lift my hand and gently tuck her hair behind her ear. "You've gotta stop saying that."

"I feel like I didn't keep my word."

"But you did."

With our gaze still locked she bites her lips, as if to keep herself from disagreeing with me, or apologizing again. I take her hands into mine.

"You saved me today. You saved me from a life without you. You should never feel bad about that."

She heaves a sigh. "Madi told me you were certain I'd come back."

"A thousand percent," I nod.

"Despite everything?"

"Because of everything," I answer, drawing a confused look from her. I lace our fingers together. "Mistakes aren't made to be repeated, they're made to learn from. I believe we're still learning, both of us... but we don't need another lesson in what we mean to each other. And in not wanting to lose each other."

The right corner of her mouth moves up, revealing a dimple that makes my heart flutter.

"There's no me without you," she says, her voice barely a whisper.

I squeeze her hands.

"And there's no me without you."

Silence falls upon us, until her jaw tightens once more. She swallows. "But those things that happened in the past—"

"—happened in the past," I cut her off. "Lex, I don't want to look back anymore. I trust you. I do! And from now on I only want to look forward."

She nods, as if out of words.

"But of course that's just me," I wink. "What do you want?"

Her smile returns, together with those dimples, and her eyes start to shine. "I want to always be there for you," she sighs. "I want to take care of you. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you feel good."

Before she can go on, I grab the collar of her shirt and pull her towards me. With her lips less than an inch away from mine, I breathe, "Let's begin with that."

And then our lips crash together. As they open up, giving our tongues the chance to find each other, Lexa's hands move up, shoving my unbuttoned shirt off my shoulders. I pull hers over her head—the only moment I allow myself to break contact with her lips—and toss it on the floor.

God, I've missed her skin against mine!

"Bed," I mumble into her mouth, making her smile into our kiss. I move my foot, about to take a step backwards without letting go of her, but right then she catches me by surprise by lifting me up. A groan escapes me before I can stop myself, and as I wrap my legs around her waist she caries me to the bed.

Once down, her on top of me, she starts kissing my neck, leaving a trail all along my jaw until her hot breath hits my ear. I whimper, not able to form words, let alone a sentence.

"What's that?" Lexa giggles. Her lips graze my earlobe, right before she playfully tugs it with her teeth. I think I'm dying. No, I think I'm already dead, and this is heaven.

While feeling like I'm in another world, I slowly realize I'm just lying here, not giving her anything in return. I want to, but I suddenly don't remember how. She doesn't seem to mind. Her hand has found my breast, her fingers now caressing my hard nipple through the fabric of my bra, before pulling it down and covering the peak with her mouth. When she switches to the other one, I can feel her hand drifting further south.

With her tongue swirling around my sensitive skin and her hand palming my sex, I buck my hips, needing every friction I can get.

"More," I finally manage to moan out.

Lexa inches back up where my mouth welcomes hers again, hot and wet. Her hand stays down though, fidgeting with the button of my jeans until it's undone and she can slip her fingers into my panties. The moment she touches me, she breaks away from my lips to look at me - a content smile on her face. There's no question here. I'm ready for her.

She shifts her weight to the side, making sure to keep our bodies pressed against each other, and slowly starts to move her hand. Her fingers are everywhere. Sliding through my wet folds, circling my swollen clit, teasing my opening... they don't leave any spot unattended and they're quickly driving me absolutely insane.

I pull her in for another kiss - a sloppy one, as I can hardly breathe. I want to encourage her, I want to thank her, I want to feel her inside of me, and at the same time beg her to never stop doing what she's doing right now. I want it all, but I don't get the chance as I'm already falling.

Falling, floating, flying... and exploding.

With my bottom lip in-between my teeth to hold back the moans that so desperately want to come out; that prevent me from screaming her name. And with my writhing body close against hers as she holds me. As she doesn't let me go.

Doesn't leave me.

When I open my eyes and turn my head, I meet her grin. She looks smug, yet in a very good way.

"How was that?"

Ignoring my still pounding heart, I smirk back at her.

"That was a very good start."

... ...

Chapter Text

Even after all these years, there's at least one thing a day that reminds me of Thomas. Last week it was this tune Jesus was humming. Yesterday it was Alicia telling me about finding her way back to Clarke. Today it's the reflection of the early sun rays on the rain puddles, sparkling in that same way as they used to do on the crystal clear water of his swimming pool.

It really doesn't have to be much to feel him with me.

"Good morning."

The sound of Clarke's voice makes me spin around, turning my back to the desolated street behind the window.

"Morning," I greet her, before nodding towards the table. "There's some coffee, if you want. I managed to scrape some instant powder off the kitchen shelves. It's shitty, but effective."

She wrinkles her nose. "Thanks, but I pass."

"That makes you the wisest of the two of us."

Mirroring my grin, she moves to the table to pick up a small bottle. "How did you sleep?" she asks, while unscrewing the cap. As soon as she takes a sip, she pulls a face that tells me the water within it hardly tastes any better than my brew. "Le— Alicia, she told me you two have been talking. About her past... and all."

"Yes," I nod, thinking back about yesterday, and not for the first time. "That was... quite something."

She throws me another smile. "I'd say the fact that you're not questioning an improbable story like this is quite something, too. I can tell that you believing her means a lot to her. Everything, actually."

"Well, I would lie if I'd tell you I'm not baffled by it all. I definitely need some time to process. But despite her story proving the opposite, I still believe I do know her. There's just no way she made any of this up." I take a sip of my coffee, which by now doesn't just taste horrible, but is also cold. I grimace and put the cup to the side. "Also she might have told you that I happen to have a bit of a... selfish side. And to be truthful, this time is no different."

Twisting her mouth, she looks puzzled. "I don't understand. How can this benefit you?"

"It can't. Not for real, that is," I answer. As my eyes flick to the stairs behind her, just for a second, I cross my arms in front of me. "There's just one thing that stuck to me. As soon as her words were out, as soon as she told me about this girl's— about her fate. One thing that keeps going through my head ever since. It's what makes me want to believe her."

Clarke pulls one of the chairs toward her and sits down on it - carefully, as it doesn't seem very sturdy. But it holds. She exhales and looks up at me again. She doesn't ask me anything, but I can read the questions on her face, together with a seemingly genuine interest, as well as a touch of alertness. Ready to protect Alicia if needed.

I lean back against the windowsill. Behind me the rain starts pouring down again, cleaning the earth from death, whether in the form of fresh blood or ancient memories.

"Years ago, just shortly after I met Alicia and her family, I lost the love of my life," I sigh. I'm not used to talking about this, or any matter of the heart really, but somehow I feel that this time I should. "His name was Thomas. And he was a good man, way too good for me to ever deserve him. He was a good man, who died in a horrible way."

Empathy crosses her face. "Walkers?"

"He was bitten, yes. When I found him, the infection was already spreading through him, like wildfire. But that's not what I mean. He uhm... He died being lied to." I swallow, then inhale a shaky breath. "By me."

She nods, slowly, then tilts her head a little, her eyes narrow. "What does this has to do with Alicia - or in this case, Lexa?"

"It doesn't. Not directly, that is. She wasn't involved. It's just that... Tom's death never stopped haunting me. His final moments. The questions that keep me awake at night, the ones that I thought could never be answered. Was he scared? Feeling betrayed? In pain?"

Clarke shoves her hair back from her face. As she scratches her head, she looks as if she's trying to solve a riddle.

"You think they've met, in any way? Cause you just said you already met Alicia when Thomas died. Meaning Lexa had been long gone. Besides all mysteries of afterlife, timeline wise—"

"No, no, that's not it," I interrupt her, "I know she could never say anything on Thomas' behalf. But she does know."

"Knows what exactly?"

"What it is like to die."

Taking in a deep breath, Clarke shifts in her chair. A worried look clouds her eyes.

"Am I wrong?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"Has she talked to you about it?"

Another nod, though as subtle as a blink. "Just a little bit. She explained to me how she'd felt blissful, because I was with her, and because she'd finally felt like herself, instead of..." Her voice drifts off, leaving her sentence unfinished, and we both stay quiet until she clears her throat. "She hasn't shared anything else, not about the actual... passing."

My eyes find hers.

"You think she's willing to?" I ask her, and as soon as I do I realize how much I rely on her answer. How I feel like this girl knows her better than I do, even though Alicia and I go way further back - at least as far as I know.

"Honestly? I don't know," she answers, raising her shoulders a bit, yet not in a dismissive way. "She's been a bit on and off about her past. And ready to leave a part of it behind her. But it's clear to me that you're important to her, so yeah, she might be willing to. Just..." She falters, then suddenly stands up, making her towering over me for a bit. "Just be careful."

I nod, but before I can say anything else she raises her hand to stop me and tilts her head again, her gaze towards the sky.

"What's that sound?"

I squint my eyes, concentrating, but I don't hear anything. That is, not right away. Cause five seconds later the whirling sound slowly reaches me after all, getting louder as it seems to be getting closer.

I jump up.

"Alicia!"

Before her name is out, she's already running down the stairs.

"You hear that?" she pants, while speeding towards the front door. There's no question that we're sharing that same mix of fear and excitement. "Open it! Open it!"

As she brusquely pushes away the barricade we've build last night, I grab the rusty key and unlock the door.

And then we're outside, scanning the sky with our hands above our eyes.

"Lexa, what's going on?" Clarke asks from behind us. She's joined us on the small porch, together with the kid. "What are we looking for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I frown. Yet when I briefly look at them and see the confusion on their faces, I can tell that it's not - which unbalances me for a moment.

"A helicopter," Alicia answers them, "It's... some sort of aircraft. Like a plane."

"It's nothing like a plane," I murmur, "except for the fact that it flies as well."

"Whatever," she sighs besides me, "Do you see it?"

I shake my head. "Nope. I think it's changed its course. The sound is fading."

I drop my arm, as well as my shoulders, then turn around. Clarke and Madi still look like they have a million questions, which makes me feel the same, until I remember they are from... well, some place with no helicopters, apparently.

"Before the world went down, helicopters were a common way of transport," I start to explain. "Mainly used by the military and police forces, hospitals, firefighters—"

"—movie stars, tourists..." Alicia mumbles, her eyes still searching.

"Well yeah, them too. Let's say anyone but the man on the street. Shortly after the outbreak the sky was filled with them, but they soon became hard to find. Since then we've only seen a couple. The last one was years ago."

Madi steps forward. She looks at Alicia.

"Have you ever been in one?" she asks her with eagerness.

Alicia doesn't take her eyes off the sky. "Yes," she just says.

Though I wasn't there, I do know what happened when she and Travis tried to make their way to the ranch, and how Travis never made it there.

"Let's just get our stuff and hit the road, alright?" I suggest, resting my hand on Alicia's shoulder. "It's gone, girl. Let it go."

... ...

"But how do we know who's flying it? If those people are good or bad?" Madi asks, sitting on her knees on the ground to study my drawing in the sand - my poor attempt to show her how a helicopter looks like.

"We don't," I shrug. "We just know that they own the kind of technology that nowadays hardly anyone on this planet owns. Which increases the chance that they're part of something bigger. Something that could make a difference. We can only hope it's for the better."

She cocks her head, looking up at me. "So you can join them?"

"Well yeah, if they can provide safety. Or use our help."

"And if they're bad?"

A sigh escapes me, though I catch myself smiling at her as well - like I somehow don't have any free will anymore. "Do you always ask this many questions?"

"Yes," she answers, while standing up, "Knowing is surviving."

My smile grows wider. I might have underestimated this kid. "Fair enough," I nod, "If they're bad, we've got two choices: run and make it as far away as possible, or play hero and fight them... against all odds."

"So... what would you do?"

No longer smiling, I rub my chin. "I wish I could tell you I'd fight, but in all fairness I couldn't promise you that. I can tell you who would, though."

Her eyes sparkle, telling me that Alicia doesn't even have to play a hero - to Madi she already is. There's no time for any more chitchat though, at least not right now. Alicia and Clarke step outside, their backpacks strapped on and ready to go.

We've got many miles to cover. So many that I don't even want to think about it. Instead, I just remind myself of those words my father once taught me. That each journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.

And so we set off.

With one single step. And then, with just putting one foot in front of the other.

Northwest. To follow a lead that might not be a lead. To search for a needle that might not even be a needle.

I've been called crazy for less.

For a while we travel in silence, taking turns in leading our small caravan. When I'm the one walking in front, Alicia calls for me, asking to wait up for her. I lower my pace till she's caught up with me.

"What's up?" I raise my brows. "You guys need a break?"

"No, we're all good," she answers, "It's just... I overheard you and Clarke this morning. And I wanted you to know that it's okay. We can talk about it."

Taken a little off guard I promptly stop walking. "Wait, you mean...?"

"Yes," she laughs, mostly likely because of the look on my face. "Keep moving though. Unless you want to prove that men can't multitask?"

I snort, shake my head, then swiftly continue walking. While I do so, I look at her again. "You're sure about this?"

Though no longer laughing she shows me another smile, albeit a bit of a sad one, and it comes to me that she's about to delve into what I can only assume are her worst memories just to help me forward - something I really shouldn't ask from her. But she's already ahead of me.

"I owe you that much," she reassures me, "Although I'm not sure if I can help you. I reckon there's hardly any experience as unique as this one. As... dying."

Our eyes briefly meet again and we exchange a short nod. By actually calling it by name the first hurdle has been overcome.

"I was shot," she starts telling, not waiting for me to stop her, nor for any of my questions. Her hand moves to her midriff. I'm not sure if she's aware of it. "I didn't see it coming and in that very first moment I don't think I even felt it. Numbed by shock. But then the pain hit me. And it was excruciating. Nothing like I ever experienced before."

There's gasping. I can't tell if it's her or me, or both of us. I wonder again if I should make her stop, for either of our sake, but when she goes on she sounds determined to finish.

"It didn't take long. The pain I mean. It faded. But my mind stayed clear. I knew what was happening. While I watched how Clarke tried to save me, I knew it was soon to be over. I knew I had reason enough to feel scared. But with my body giving up, my panic did too. What was left was this final sense of duty, and of needing to protect the only one who mattered. After that..." She takes my hand and lightly squeezes it. "After that all I remember is love. Yes, I cried. Tears of sorrow, of anger and regret - so much regret. Regret that I had to leave her behind. But the more tears I shed, the more bliss I felt. For to die in the arms of someone who made me feel all that. For being able to share my last breath with her..."

She lets go of me again, bringing her hand up to wipe her eyes. I hadn't even noticed that she was crying, with her voice sounding steady as ever.

"You want to know about those last few seconds? Well, again, I can't speak for everyone. That I know. But mine came without pain, nor fear. My life had given me reason enough to feel hate, betrayal or bitterness, and my death was gruesome and unfair. Yet in the end there was only peace. And then there was simply nothing."

I heave a sigh. Nothing sounds good. A whole lot better than I pictured. And like something I really want to believe. If things were that simple.

When I stay quiet, Alicia takes my arm again.

"Listen, I know what happened that day," she says, her voice even softer than before. "I was there. You couldn't save Thomas. No one could."

Suddenly feeling I don't deserve the affection, I pull myself loose from her. "I could have joined him. I-I'd promised him to join him."

"You did?" She looks up at me again, but I avoid her gaze.

"I did. And I meant it. But I failed him. Betrayed him one more time."

"You really think that if he could, he'd care about you changing your mind? After you did everything right? Strand, you were with him. You stayed by his side, comforted him, made him feel loved. If his final moment was anything like mine, I can promise you that you didn't fail. At all."

As I let her words sink in, I stare at the horizon ahead. She lets me, knowing I need a minute. Or two. So we just keep walking in silence, until I gently bump into her to make our gazes meet again.

"Thank you," I quietly mutter.

"Anytime," she smiles up at me. "You know, we've been through so much. All of us. Everyone who made it this far. There's not a soul these days without any sorrows, or any blame. You and I, we're no different. We're only human in the end. So I think it's time we allow ourselves to be human, and not be angry about that."

"And how do I do that?"

She shrugs. "By forgiving yourself."

I glance over my shoulder, then back at her. "She taught you that?"

Her eyes light up, like they always do when we talk about Clarke. If there's one reason why I want to find Madison, it's for her to see this. This happiness her daughter has found, despite everything.

"She did," Alicia grins, "And now I'm teaching you. Will you try it?"

"I will try it," I nod, and this time I know it's a promise I'm gonna keep.

"Good," she nods in return, before focusing on the road again, "That's all I'm asking."

... ...

Chapter Text

"Tell me about them. About your..." When my voice falters, I take a deep breath as if to brace myself. "About our parents."

My question seems to take Madi aback and instead of answering me her gaze moves from me to Clarke, who's sitting in between us. As nighttime has fallen we are enveloped in darkness, yet by the glowing light of our small campfire I can see the hesitation in her eyes. And when Clarke breaks off their wordless conversation to face me with that same wavering look, it's clear to me that she shares Madi's doubt.

"Are you sure?" she asks me.

I know what she's thinking. Things are better. I am better. For the past few weeks I have finally been able to let go. The heavy burden of my past, of who I once needed to be. It's gone. And the struggle of who I want to be, it's... well, it's not behind me, but it's also not eating me anymore.

I'm okay. For the first time in forever I'm really starting to believe that. So why risk that by delving into the past again? It's the other way around, though. I am okay, and that's why I know I don't have to worry about falling back. It's why I know I can trust myself on this.

"Yes," I say. "I want to know who they were."

Clarke nods, pursing her lips into a thin line, like she wants to take her question back. Like a silent apology almost. There's no need to. I know she doesn't mean to patronize me, or to be over-protective. She just loves me.

I cast her a smile, then look at Madi again.

"Tell me anything - just anything you remember. Anything that doesn't have to do with me, or the choices they made. Who were they to you? How did they act, what did they like?" Then, realizing what I'm actually asking from her, quickly adding, "Please."

Madi shuffles in her spot, crunching the dry leaves on the ground she's sitting on. For a moment it's the only sound in the air, together with the fire crackling and Strand's soft snoring six feet away from us. He passed out over an hour ago. We've been on the road for about two weeks now and tonight is one of those nights without a decent place to sleep, but with some peace and quiet nonetheless. So far the tin cans we keep hanging around us at night haven't alarmed us once.

"Alright," Madi finally speaks up. A sigh escapes her lungs, small but loud enough for me to hear. I hope it's one of nostalgia. "You already know we lived a hidden life, far away from everything. So Nomon and Nontu, as I naturally called them, they were like... my world. My entire universe. I never saw anyone else, could never compare them with other people - not until I met Clarke. But I knew they were good people. I knew I was lucky to be theirs."

I swallow, not allowing the bitter taste in my mouth.

"How?" I ask her. "How did you know?"

She shrugs.

"I don't know. I mean, they told me how much they cared, of course, and they were always there for me to help me, and to protect me. But people can do all that for many more reasons than love, can't they? But with them, and as little as I was, I just knew it was love. True love. They were my world, my universe, but I was the center of theirs. They would die for me if they had to." The words are out before she knows it, making her fluster. "Sorry," she mumbles, blinking rapidly.

"Don't be." I lean in, across Clarke's lap, to rest my hand on her knee. "I mean it, Madi. Please feel free to tell me anything. I'm not blaming you for any of it. And I wouldn't even know how to blame them for loving you. Not even if I wanted to."

Still biting her lips, Madi slowly nods. She drops her shoulders in relief. I sit back again, and when Clarke asks her what our parents had looked like, I catch the first hint of a smile.

"Nomon looked like you." Madi's eyes find mine again, and when she starts to tell more about our mother, they're even beginning to shine; not by the reflection of the campfire, but by the memories that are coming back to her, or maybe never left. "Not exactly. She was much taller, to start with."

"Well, you were half your size back then," Clarke laughs, helping us all to relax even more.

"Right," Madi giggles, "Forget about her size, maybe she was tiny like you after all."

"Hey!" I exclaim, but she already goes on.

"I'm saying her caliber wasn't in her seize, it was in her entire presence. She had this fierce radiance about her. Like she wouldn't back away for anyone, or anything. I remember I was playing outside once when she jumped between me and an approaching bear, about to sacrifice herself if she had to. That bear knew better than that though. One look at her and he was gone."

"So I inherited my mother's death glare," I grumble, "How charming."

"I guess you did," she grins, fully aware now that I'm not all serious, "but I'd rather say you resemble her in many more ways. Her soft side in particular."

"What soft side?!"

"Oh, here we go again!" Clarke snorts before Madi can even answer.

Smirking widely she cleverly catches the stick I throw at her head and tosses it into the fire, making the flames blaze, while sparks dart around like fireflies.

Not distracted by them, Madi leans towards her and lowers her voice. "Wait, is this a secret? Doesn't she know about her puppy eyes?"

"Full denial," Clarke whispers back at her, yet loud enough so I can hear.

I sigh as dramatically a I can. "I've got more sticks you know. And one of them will hit you in the face!"

Still laughing they both sit up straight again. Madi raises her hands, as if surrendering.

"Okay, okay, no more joking. I'm just saying Nomon had this way of looking at me, or at Nontu, or the world even, that could just... fix you. She didn't had the same eyes as you—I believe hers were even greener—but her gaze came with that same warmth, and that same reassurance as yours. I'm sorry, I don't know how to describe it any better."

"I think you're doing a great job," Clarke tells her, and I have to agree with her.

"You also have her smile," Madi goes on, reassured by Clarke's words. Subconsciously I lift the left corner of my mouth, just slightly, but enough to make Madi point at me. "That one!"

This time I'm the one to shuffle around a bit, my eyes focused on the leaf in my hand I'm absentmindedly playing with. "Did she smile a lot?"

When Madi stays quiet, I look up again. With her eyes narrowed she seems deep in thought, like she's actually trying to step back in time to get the right image. She shakes her head.

"No," she answers truthfully, "But when she did, it was like the sky was breaking open." As she's picturing it, Madi's face lights up in a way that warms my heart.

"How about him - our father? What did he look like?"

A new memory, or at least I assume, makes her chuckle. "He was big - for real!" she recalls out loud, quickly glancing at Clarke before she corrects her again. "Big and strong. And he had this fuzzy beard that tickled when he kissed me goodnight."

"So she looked like him as well!" Clarke snickers, nudging Madi's shoulder, who instantly cracks up at her joke. It takes a lot of me not to laugh along.

"The two of you make me want to drink," I playfully whine instead.

Clarke picks up the half-empty bottle of wine we found earlier today and that's now lying next to her. Spinning it around she winks at me. "You're in luck, there's some left."

As she refills my cup, Madi raises hers as well, pulling her most innocent face. Clarke gives her a once-over, then sighs. "Alright, three sips, and just tonight!" she yields.

I guess puppy eyes run in our family.

After her first sip, one that makes her cough since she's not used to the burning sensation, Madi looks at me again.

"You and Nontu did have one thing in common though." She drops a pause for dramatic effect, before continuing, "Just like you he couldn't shoot a straight arrow."

Clarke's snort results into a wine-in-nose situation, which gives me the chance to beat her to it.

"I can shoot!" I cry out, risking waking up Strand or worse: inviting some unwelcome guests.

"I just can't hit," Clarke and Madi both titter in unison.

"Okay, first of all, I don't sound like that," I snarl defensively, "And second... that's four strikes. You two are out!" It's one of those moments I'm glad they don't know squat about baseball, meaning they can't correct me in any way.

Without getting up Clarke moves closer towards me, yet I duck away when she tries to pull me in. She looks over her shoulder at Madi.

"You think we took it too far?"

Madi shrugs once more. "I didn't. I'm her sister. If I learned one thing from her stories about Nick, it's that when it comes to sisters, there is no too far. You on the other hand...?"

Clarke turns to me, checks me out with a frown, then faces Madi again. "Maybe you should just distract her with more stories. You were saying your father couldn't shoot?"

"You know what," Madi chuckles, "let's give him some slack and just say he couldn't hit. Like some others. But yeah, Nomon was clearly the hunter of the two of them."

"So what did he do?" I ask, too eager to know more to keep my act up any longer. "How was he like?"

"Nontu? Oh, he could build anything!" Madi answers without giving it any thought. I can hear the admiration in her voice. "Like I said, he was strong. With that and his insights, he'd built us a great place to live. He really was a great craftsman. Name it and he could make it. Furniture, tools, and not to mention quite some toys for me to play with."

An honest grin sneaks on my face. "Ah, now we're getting to that lucky part."

Scattering the ashes with a thin branch, Madi stirs up the fire again.

"I really had nothing to complain," she admits. "As I told you before, they wanted me to learn many survival skills, but there was plenty of time left for playing, and plenty of toys to play with. Except—"

Suddenly lost in thoughts, she falls quiet.

"Except?" Clarke and I both ask.

"Now that I'm telling you this, I'm recalling something. There was this small, wooden box. I'm pretty sure Nontu had made it himself, maybe even before I was born. It contained some toys. Not many - three or four pieces maybe. You would think they were there for me, but for some reason I was never allowed to play with them. I never got why."

As Madi keeps poking into the fire, my eyes find Clarke's. For a second we share this look of understanding. Then Madi draws our attention again by continuing, unaware of what just happened.

"Nontu was also an amazing storyteller. He was always writing tales. Not on paper, but in his head. He shared them with us as he made them up on the spot. Sadly I forgot most of them. Except for my favorite, one that knew many chapters. Strik Skai Gona, it was called."

"Little Sky Warrior," I murmur. Was he aware of the people in space?

As Madi starts to tell more about it, I have to go with no.

"It was about this young, brave warrior girl who grew up in a tower as high as the clouds. I was very convinced that it was about Nomon, but she has always denied it." While she tries to suppress a yawn, she suddenly looks straight at me. "Wait, you think..."

"I think you need to get some sleep," Clarke comes in between. "You seem beaten. And we have a very long day ahead. If we leave early and are lucky enough to find some wheels again, we might actually make it half way."

The fact that Madi doesn't fight her on this, shows once again how well Clarke knows her. While she crawls into her sleeping bag, her eyes are already drooping.

"Madi?" I call for her, right when she's about to roll to her other side. She looks at me, blinking to keep her eyes open for a few more seconds. "Thank you," I smile, "for introducing them to me."

"To us." Clarke reaches out again and this time I'm happy to let her pull me close.

"To us," I nod while I lay my head down on her lap. Madi is not the only one who could really use a nap. It's a good thing Clarke is the first one to keep watch. And the only adult who had just three sips of wine - one of them ending up in her nose.

Madi, drifting off with a smile, doesn't even reply anymore.

I don't want to fall asleep though. Not just yet. As Clarke gently runs her fingers through my hair, I look up at her. She's got the softest expression on her face. Maybe they're right. There's really nothing wrong with being a little soft sometimes.

"I'm sorry for teasing you so much," she quietly says as she smiles down on me.

My lips curl up. "Oh please, don't be. I'm glad we're passed tiptoeing around each other."

"That makes two of us," she nods, her smile widening for a moment. "So how are you doing, my little sky warrior?"

"I'm good," I answer without any hesitation. "I really am."

Leaning down, she presses a kiss to my forehead, then whispers without moving away, "They never forgot you."

Right as she's about to sit up again, I stop her by reaching for the back of her head. Keeping her close like this, I direct her lips towards mine. Sometimes a kiss can say more than a thousand words. I hope this one does. I hope she gets how much I treasure her. For all she does, and for all she is.

When we break apart I roll onto my side, snuggling closer with my cheek against her thighs. Clarke keeps playing with my hair.

"I need to confess something," I speak up after a short moment.

"You do?"

Her fingers don't stop fidgeting and there's not a single sign of distrust in her voice. Just curiosity, and maybe a tad of amusement. We really are past a lot.

"About what Madi described as being her parents' universe, the center of their universe even. I've heard people say things like that before, but between you and me, I always believed that was real crap. Nothing more than just a saying. Cause if that really would be something, I would have been my parents', right? Steven and Madison's? Yet though I do believe they truly loved me, I can tell you for sure that I wasn't their everything. I wasn't their center."

For a split second, Clarke's hand stops moving. "What makes you think that?"

"Because there was no room for me there. My dad, he was always so troubled, so... absent. At that age I didn't understand, but now I know. I know his entire universe was darkened by his depression. He was still part of our world, but we were mainly shadows in his. And my mom, well I bet she'd rather die than admit it, if she still can, but she'd built her entire life around Nick. Around saving him - over and over again."

"Lex," Clarke whispers, but I'm not finished yet.

"No, it's okay," I go on, my eyes still fixed on the flames in front of me, "I'm not telling you this to feel bad about. I don't. They struggled, I can see that now. And I understand. I'm just saying that it's that reality that always kept me this cynical, to say the least, about any of that center of the universe baloney. The simple fact that life is just too complicated to have it revolved around a certain person. To want it to revolve around..."

My voice drifts off. This time Clarke stays quiet.

I look up again.

"I was wrong."

"About your parents?" she frowns.

"About it just being a saying. And being crap," I answer her. Our eyes lock and I can feel my heart swell. "You are it, Clarke. You are my universe. My entire universe, and the center of it."

Beautifully lit by fire and moonlight, her smile returns, warm and sincere. There's not a bad thing in the way she looks at me, and yet I suddenly feel like an idiot.

"You're going to call me soft again, aren't you?" I mumble, fighting the urge to look away from her.

A chuckle falls from her lips.

"Right now? Nah..." she grins. "Tomorrow, maybe. Right now I just want to call you brave. Loving someone is easy, but letting them in, and building your life around them, that's only for the most courageous."

Her hand cups my jaw, her thumb stroking over my cheek as she slowly lowers herself to kiss me again - soft and sweet. Then, with her lips still close to mine, she breathes, "And also, same."

... ...

Chapter Text

I haven't kept track of time, but based on the moon, I reckon it's about three weeks since we left it all behind. 

Our people. Our titles. Our history. 

Nothing is known for sure, but the chance we'll ever return seems very slim. Our future lies ahead of us. And although that means letting go of people who matter to me, I can feel, and thus honestly say, that it's alright. Because I've got Lexa and Madi by my side, and they matter more. They matter the most.

For the past weeks heading towards that future meant walking.

A lot of walking.

We've walked for hours and hours, days and days, through woods and fields and empty streets, slowly making our way north-west. Only a handful of times we were lucky enough to find a working car, or what was left of it. One of them actually hold for almost a day. It smelled like death, but none of us cared - at least we were making some miles.

We kept going from sunrise till nightfall, everyday, with no exceptions. When we got the chance, we slept in deserted buildings along the road; mansions, churches, shops, even some dilapidated toll booths. On the rare occasions that we couldn't find any, we camped in the wild.

We tried to stick to the shortest route, which wasn't always easy, since we didn't have a map for every part. Plus quite some road signs were either overgrown or illegible after ten years of no maintenance. Some roads were blocked by fallen trees or abandoned traffic jam, some bridges were gone, forcing us to leave our wheels behind (if we even had any) and go around it.

The times we ran into a walker, or even a bunch of them, we just passed them without taking the effort of killing them, unless they came for us. When we spotted a herd, we took a little detour. Same with the living; we never bothered finding out if they might be good or bad, we just avoided them. We stepped aside and kept going.

The only times we actually stopped to go off route was when we were out of food and needed to scavenge. Out of the four of us, Madi turned out to be the absolute best in this. Nine out of ten times, she's the first to find whatever we're looking for, and often even more than that.

For all these days the spirit among us has been good. Even when getting hungry or tired, or felt like our feet were about to fall off, no one complained.

Now that we're getting closer though, with less than thirty miles to cover, I notice Lexa is starting to get more and more quiet.

I can only imagine how she must feel like. As long as we're on our way, she has a purpose. A reason to have at least some hope. But the chances of finding even the smallest trace of evidence, let alone a next clue, of Madison's whereabouts are close to zero. And that's not a prospect to look forward to.

"Clarke," she breaks my thoughts, "stop watching me."

I blink, feeling caught. "I wasn't."

Lexa turns her head to look at me. "You're such a poor liar."

Her smile is small but warm, and when she takes my hand, I know she isn't annoyed by me.

I don't fight her on it—she's right, after all—but watch her again instead. Her eyes are already back on the horizon.

"You're worried," I state.

"Of course I am."

For a second I'm afraid she's about to close herself off again, but right then I can feel her grip tighten, and with it I know she's not done.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"For trying?" I ask, "No! I mean, I know I said it would be insane to search for Becca, but this—"

"For hoping," she stops me. "For hoping she's still out there. Alive. And... and thinking about me."

I pull her a little closer to me until our shoulders brush with each step, then lean in and gently nudge her cheek.

"You're not crazy," I whisper, before letting my lips touch her skin. The softest laugh escapes her and she squeezes my hand again.

"You're going to trip."

"I don't care," I tell her with quite the bravado, yet after another quick peck I focus my eyes on the road again. "I mean it though," I go on. "I know to you hope is an enemy, but I believe it's what moves us forward."

"But forward to where? There might be nothing there. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's what we're going to find. Absolutely nothing."

I nod. "I know that. But even then, there's a difference between not finding her and her not being out there. If the thought of her being alive, being somewhere in this world with you on her mind, helps you in any way, then I think you should allow yourself that thought."

Lexa stays quiet for a moment, then answers, almost to herself, "It does." She briefly looks at me. "To be someone's child. Even when we're apart. I'd almost forgotten what that felt like."

Her words make me think about Mom. Would she still be in space, or has she found her way to the ground by now? Is she with Marcus, and with Raven? How will her research go? And most importantly, is she happy? I don't have any of the answers, but there's one thing I do know for sure: I'm on her mind. And there's a value in that, that goes beyond words.

I cast her another glance and this time our eyes actually meet. "You know we can stop at any time you want, right? If it would give you more peace, not knowing but believing she's alright..."

She shows me a half-smile. "It would, but I can't."

It's moments like this I'm not sure if I'm dealing with Lexa or Alicia. Probably both.

"I need to know I tried everything I could," she goes on. "Even if that means I don't find anything. I just... I need to know."

I want to ask her about the third option.

What if she actually does find her? What if her determination will lead her back to her mom? I want to make her imagine, just for a second, how it would be like to see her again, to hold her again. To show her who she's become. This amazing young woman, who's surviving this god-awful place all on her own. I want to ask if she would tell her about her other past, and—perhaps a little selfishly—what she would tell her about me.

But though she set her mind on finding out the truth, I know this is the part she doesn't allow her brain to go.

So instead I just nod again.

With her hand still in mine, we continue walking, following Madi and Strand who've been a little ahead of us for the past so many miles. Depending on the distance between us, curves and obstacles, and most of all on Madi's urge to explore whenever she gets the chance, they're in and out of sight, but by now I know I can trust Madi not to endanger herself and thus let her be. Which isn't just benefiting my stress levels, but also helps us along more often than not.

Today is no exception.

"Clarke! Lexa!" she shouts from a close distance, "Look what I found!"

The enthusiasm in her voice makes us increase our pass.

Madi is standing between the open doors of what looks like an old barn. Her finger is trembling when she points at whatever treasure she found in there. I look around the door frame to see what's inside, getting her this excited, then back at Madi again, frowning.

"It's just a scrapheap. A pile of junk."

"No, it's not," Madi corrects me, "It's a pile of bicycles. And they're not all broken."

"She's right."

Strand's voice makes me look inside again, where he just appears from behind the steel, shoulder high jumble.

"Found three decent ones in the back, underneath that piece of canvas. And there's plenty of tools here. I think I can fix one of these with just some parts of, let me see... that one."

While I feel I can't do much more than stare at him, Lexa already joins them in the barn.

"Awesome. Good catch, Madi!" she cheers.

"Wait, you... you seriously want to use these?"

"Of course," Lexa answers. She briefly looks at me over her shoulder, but turns away again before I can even open my mouth to respond. "We'll travel twice as fast - at least! And we can't run out of gas."

I watch how Lexa and Madi pull away the rag together to reveal the three bikes underneath, while Strand chooses one of the broken ones and puts it upside down in front of him, examining the broken chain and bent front wheel.

None of them seem to notice that I'm not moving. Like, at all.

"But..." I just murmur.

Lexa looks up at me again as she wheels one of the bikes outside. It's covered in mud, but the bright red color still shines through. "What?" she asks me.

I take a step closer towards her. "We can't take them," I tell her, a little bit under my breath.

As she narrows her eyes, her brows furrow. "Why not? There's no one around. And based on these spiderwebs, they haven't left just yesterday."

"That's not what I mean." While closing the distance between us, I lower my voice even more. "Madi and I, we don't know how to ride them. We never learned. In fact, this is my first encounter with a bicycle."

I know I shouldn't have to feel embarrassed, considering my background and all, but for some reason I do. It's one of those rare moments I feel really silly around Lexa, Strand and everyone else from this world, and Lexa staring at me in disbelief isn't helping.

The moment doesn't take long though. When her eyes light up and a wide grin creeps up her face—not a bad one, just one that says I'm cute—I know she's not going to make fun of me. Which is why I chuckle along when the laughter I was waiting for bursts from her lips.

"You don't think I'm pathetic?" I grin along, though rather sheepishly.

"I think you're endearing," she answers, leaning in to peck my cheek. "Besides, there are plenty of people who never learned. Not just you aliens." She winks, then looks from me to Madi, who's about to join us, and back at me again. "Come on, it's not that hard. I'll teach you."

Lexa tells us to sit on the bikes she and Madi brought outside, keeping our feet on the ground - like I was even thinking of lifting them. The vehicle wobbles between my legs. As Lexa helps Madi to lower her seat, I squeeze the handles until my hands start to sweat.

"You'd better squeeze the brakes instead," Lexa smiles. She's still kneeling down next to Madi's bike, but her eyes are now on my hands. She nods towards what I can only guess are said brakes and do as she says. It helps, the bike stops rolling away, which makes me decide on the spot that I won't let go of them anymore.

Lexa stands up. "Alright. So yes, those are the brakes. Always use both of them. Gradually, if possible, just like when driving a car. Try them. Glide a little, your feet can stay close to the ground. But when you stop, just put only one of them down."

While Madi doesn't have to be told twice, pushing herself forward with her feet before lifting them both up, I'm still trying to remember how to move.

"Clarke?"

"Yeah?"

"You might wanna let go of those brakes."

I blink, then look at Lexa again. "I'm not so sure about that. This whole thing feels very... unnatural."

She laughs. "That's because you're thinking about it too much. Look at Madi. Follow your instinct."

"My instinct tells me I'm not made for two wheels," I mutter.

"Sure you are," she reassures me. With one hand on my back, she lays the other one on top of mine. "Trust me. No, trust yourself. Just let go."

I exhale, then slowly let go of the brake. Right then Lexa gives me a gentle push, though without breaking contact. The bicycle starts rolling, slowly and just a few feet, as I make sure to hit the brakes again as soon as it starts to sway.

"Good. Again," Lexa says right next to me.

I do so for a few more times. Nothing I do looks like riding a bike, and when I turn to look at Madi, a loud moan escapes me. Without any further instructions from Lexa, she's cycling around, for real - feet on the pedals and everything.

"How? How is she doing that?!"

"Like I said," Lexa laughs again, "she's not thinking about it. Despite your earlier words about tripping, you are afraid to fall. Don't be, and you're there."

"Easier said than done," I mumble.

Lexa, being the wisest of the two of us, plays deaf and focuses on my pedals instead. When they are in the—apparently—right position her eyes meet mine again. "You'll be fine when you make some actual speed. I promise! Just keep your back straight, your eyes forward... and don't stop pedaling."

I swallow. "And if I fall?"

"Then you get back up," she tells me in a rather stern voice, yet when I look at her she winks again, then moves her lips to my ear. "Also, I'll kiss away all your pain."

And then I'm doing it. Before I can say anything in return, she pushes me away and my bike starts rolling again and this time I don't hit the brakes, but move my feet on the pedals instead. And I don't fall. I'm just doing it.

I'm feeling it, without any further instruction. How to keep my balance. How to make turns, avoid potholes and keep a straight line. I'm feeling it, and I'm loving it.

Nonetheless I consider falling off, just to score some extra kisses, but when I hear Lexa's encouraging cheers and spot her proud face beaming at me, I really can't. Besides, something tells me the reward for all this might be even better than a peck or two.

When I finish my little test round by almost flying over the steering wheel, as I haven't really figured out the gradual part yet, Strand steps outside of the barn. He's got grease all over him, the old bike he just fixed looking clean compared to him. It looks stable though.

"Well, look at you," Lexa laughs at him, "The man who once only wore fancy suits!"

Strand wipes his hands on his pants. "Joke all you want, but one day I will again."

"Sure you will," she grins. She might struggle with the concept of hope, but she isn't one to ruin someone else's. "Alright, so you're all set? Let me get mine and we can go."

Lexa disappears into the barn again, only to join us a minute later with a whole different look on her face.

"Really?" she grumbles, "You all got cool, sturdy mountain bikes and I'm left with... this?!"

"I don't know," I say, checking her bicycle and trying to keep from laughing, "I think pink really fits you."

Clearly amused, Strand nods in agreement. "Nice basket. Look how well those daisies go with your sword!"

Smart enough to ignore our jokes, Lexa turns to Madi with pleading eyes. "Madi, please switch with me?"

But her attempt is futile, as Madi already hits the pedals. "Hell no," she laughs at her over her shoulder, "Now hurry, the road is waiting!"

Taking her defeat with grace, Lexa gets on her bike, challenging us as she does so, "You three can keep laughing, or you can try to keep up with me." And with that she takes off, easily catching up with Madi and forcing us to do the same.

Lexa was right, with the bikes we double our speed. In just a few hours we make quite the distance. And it's not just fast, it's fun as well. That is until things start to get more and more uncomfortable.

When Lexa catches my huffing and puffing, she slows down a little until I'm caught up with her.

Squeezing her eyes, she gives me a once-over. "What's up?"

"My butt," I grimace, "It's getting real sore."

My misery makes her chuckle. "Yeah, I'm afraid that's part of the cycling experience, especially when it's been a while - or a first," she smirks sympathetically, "Will be even worse tomorrow! Nothing you won't survive though."

I open my mouth to react, but it's right then when Madi's eager voice interrupts us.

"Look!" she calls from about fifty yards ahead of us.

"What is it?" I ask her as we're getting closer, "More bikes?"

She shakes her head.

"No," she just says, pointing at an old town sign. It's damaged and the paint has faded, but we can all still read the name written on it.

It's Madison.

... ...

Chapter Text

"You think this is it?" Clarke asks, while we all stare at the slightly overgrown town sign, reading Mom's name.

I look around me, then back at her.

"Must be," I answer. "We're less than three miles away from the shore." I nod towards another road sign, one that points in the direction of Lake Erie.

Clarke follows my gaze. "You want to go straight to the lakeside? Or check out this place first?"

With one last glance at the town sign I get back on my bike. "Let's explore a little. Maybe we find some clues," I say, even though I don't expect to find anything at all.

The thing is, I want to see it. This last place as we know off where Mom might have lived. Even if it's a graveyard.

Or worse.

It only takes us a few minutes to reach the edge of the settlement. Coalport, as Strand has taught us. The home base of the community that once lived here, and that was built on the ruins of Madison. Half of its walls are still up, making it hard to see what's behind them, but I can already tell this place has been nothing like Alexandria - not even in its best days.

We leave the bikes behind and crawl through one of the big holes in the fence. The settling looks exactly like one can expect after it got run over by a couple of herds, with almost nothing left standing, except for a handful of small buildings that at first sight are all uninhabitable these days. Doors hang off their hinges, glass from the windows is shattered everywhere and I honestly think that every single roof could collapse at any time.

The different paths around these hovels are all muddy and littered with debris, and I spot piles of ashes and black, perished wood everywhere, giving this place an ironically fitting name. If we want to reach and explore every corner, we won't stay clean for long; to make our way through, we'll have to crawl on our hands and feet more often than not.

The area is quiet as a tomb and looks completely deserted. Even the dead have no business here anymore.

"What a dump," Madi mumbles next to me, reminding me of Luke's description.

I knew I wouldn't find Mom here, I didn't even dare to secretly hope for it, but now that I'm here, I'm actually relieved that she's left. Wherever she is, it can not be worse than this.

"Come on," I sigh, reluctantly. "Let's have a closer look."

We spread out. As we start to make our way through the rubble, we keep our weapons at our fingertips just in case, even though there's no single soul around - dead or alive. When I make it to a small, roofless building at the west side, I carefully look around the door post. As anticipated there's no one in there and the mess inside is at least as bad as outside.

I see remnants of furniture, either overturned or knocked over, and of no value anymore, and when I look more closely I discover traces of blood on one of the walls. I grimace.

Crossing the room, I head to what must have been some kind of kitchen. The sink is still there, albeit broken. I open the cupboard below it. It's empty. Same for the one next to it.

"Nothing?"

Clarke's voice comes from the doorway.

"Not even rat shit," I answer her, before standing up straight again and turning towards her. "You?"

"Same," she answers.

She steps inside, not bothered by the awful, suffocating smell that lingers in the room - or maybe she's just doing a great job in hiding any issues with it. "Listen, I know this place looks like hell on earth, but I don't think it was that bad before it went down. I checked the building across the road and I'm pretty sure they used it as a classroom. There are still some drawings on the wall."

I give her a weak smile, aware what she's trying to do.

Without saying anything else, she takes another step and wraps her arms around me. As she holds me tight, I close my eyes for a moment, making everything around me disappear - everything but Clarke, who as always knows how to replace this black world for a bright one, just by being there.

When she lets go off me, she takes my hand instead and leads me outside. There we spend at least an hour going through every thinkable kind of waste.

We find exactly nothing.

"It's okay," I tell her, even though she didn't say or ask anything. "I knew it was pointless."

Clarke heaves a weary sigh. "I'm sorry. I really wish you were wrong this time."

I nod, a sorrowful smile lingering on my lips. "Me too."

"Wanna check out those sheds over there, then meet at the bikes?"

I shrug with little enthusiasm. "Sure."

When I open the door of the shed on the right, I'm met with darkness. The only source of light is a small crack in the tin roof, and now the open door. It's hardly enough to distinguish anything and when I take a few steps inside, I almost break my neck over something lying around on the floor. Reaching down I realize it's an old skateboard.

I pick it up and turn is towards the light coming from behind me to have a better look. It's got a huge scratch on it and one of its wheels is missing, but it makes me smile nonetheless. It looks almost exactly like the one Nick used to have, and used to love, before the world grew dark on him.

And boy, had I been jealous!

As I let my fingers slide over the board, my memory brings me back to our early childhood years. To those moments I tried to chase him, running after my big brother when he took off, flying over the asphalt, smirking at me over his shoulder - knowing damn well I could never catch up with him, unless he let me. I can still hear his laughter. Still feel his hands lifting me up once he'd teased me long enough, helping me to try the board. Pushing me forward without letting go of me. Not once did he let go of me.

"What's that?"

I look up. It's Madi, gazing at the—to her—strange object in my hands.

"It's a skateboard," I explain. "A broken one, unfortunately. When it's got all its wheels you can use it as means of transport. Or just to do tricks."

"Really?" Her eyes grow big. "What kind of tricks?"

"All kinds. Jumps, flips, slides..."

"Can you do any of them?"

A soft, unexpected chuckle falls off my lips. "I could hardly stand on it without falling off. My brother could though. And I bet you'd rock it, too!"

Madi takes the board from me. She studies it closely before making one of the wheels spin - over and over again. When her eyes find mine again, a deep sigh escapes her. "Too bad it's broken."

I shrug my shoulder. "We can go back in there, try to find that wheel? It's pretty dark, but a treasure hunter as good as you..."

Madi's smile widens. "Alright," she nods, and then, as if she suddenly remembers why she came for me, "Oh, speaking of, I found something. It's probably nothing, but..."

Her hand disappears into her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. She hands is to me without any further explanation, so I have no clue what to expect.

I unfold it, frowning in anticipation, and read the first line.

"To my dearest children"...

... ...

Chapter Text

To my dearest children,

How long has it been? I lost count of the amount of days we haven't been together. I can't even remember how many letters I've written you. But I know this will be the last one.

They are coming. Like always. They are coming, and once again I can't do anything other than run. If I want to live I need to run. It's that simple. The only thing is, I don't want to anymore.

I don't want to take one more step further away from the two of you. 'Cause whichever direction I choose, I know it will be the wrong one.

You are still out there. I know that. A mother can tell. You two are strong, and smart, and so very courageous. You've always been. So I have no doubt that you are getting through. That you are still standing tall in this horrible world. And that you are trying to make it a little less horrible, in your own wonderful ways. I just hope above all that you are okay, too. I hope that you managed to build something - something worth fighting for, something that makes you happy. And I hope that you're still together. You make such a strong team.

I want you both to know that you are always on my mind. Not a day goes by without me thinking of you.

Of my sweet boy. My moon child. For so many years I believed that you weren't ready for this world, while all this time the world wasn't ready for you. You were miles ahead of all of us - always. And it saved me, more than once. I just didn't realize it at the time. How you tricked us in believing it was the other way around.

And my beautiful daughter. I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. I don't think I ever told you this, but it had been raining for three weeks straight. But then you came into this world and just like that it stopped, and the sun came through, and to me it has been shining ever since. Even on the dark days - when you were there, my sun was shining. I lost that feeling the day I lost you, but I'm holding on to believing that you're brightening up someone else's life these days, and that thought warms my heart like nothing else.

I've always been so proud of the both of you, and wherever life has taken you and in whichever way you're handling it, I still am. The proudest of all!

I really want you to know that, just as well as what comes next.

I've been looking for you. For years and years. I've been everywhere and beyond. But this world, it's so big, and so empty. So around the time I arrived here, I gave up. I got here, to this god forbidden town, and I couldn't anymore. Couldn't go on, couldn't go back. All I could do was accept the fact that I failed, and hope that - against all odds - you would be the ones who would find me one day. Find any of my traces. Any of my letters. I wrote you so, so many letters.

So I'm here waiting. I'm not going anywhere - not anymore. I stay here where you can find me. Even if that means you won't make it in time. If it means this will be the end for me, sooner or later.

Today tells me it's going to be sooner.

People are packing. Boarding their boats. They're calling for me, telling me to hurry. To join them now that I still can. But I won't. Whatever is coming for me, this is my final destination. I hope you can find it in your hearts to understand me.

I love you both so much, but enough's enough.

M.

... ...

Chapter Text

Looking up from the letter in my hands, my eyes search for Madi's.

"Where did you find this?"

My voice is shaking, but I'm ignoring it, and when Madi doesn't answer me, I ask her again, with more urge. "Madi, where did you find this?"

All I get is some under the breath mumbling.

I squint at her intently, my eyes filled with impatience.

"I don't wanna say," she answers at last.

"Madi!!" When her name bursts from my lips again, it sounds like a frustrated groan.

Heaving a deeply defeated sigh, Madi finally turns around and points toward the east side of the former settlement.

"You see that pile of concrete over there? That's actually a collapsed building. I found a way in, managed to explore the hidden space underneath. The basement I think, or what's left of it." She looks at me again. "Please don't tell Clarke, she'll get mad for sure."

I hardly register her plea.

"What else did you find there?" I ask her instead, but even if she wants to, she doesn't get the chance to answer right away.

"What's going on here?"

It's Clarke, joining us before Madi can speak up.

I wordlessly hand her the letter as a way of explaining myself without taking my eyes off Madi, who by now looks even more wavering to answer me. But silence is no acceptable option.

"Tell me what you saw! Was there..." As the rest of the question fails to come out, I take a deep breath to ground myself and try again. "Was there a body?"

"N-No," Madi stammers, "There was nothing like that. Just debris, dust and dirt. And some broken furniture. With that piece of scrabble hidden in some small cabinet." She nods at the letter in Clarke's hands.

"There was nothing else or you didn't see anything else?" I go on, not able to control my desperation.

"I... I didn't see anything else."

"No corpse? No bones? No remains of... of..."

"No! I found nothing like that." Her voice sounds louder now, more steady. "Just that note. And that can be from anyone, right?"

I sharply inhale again. "No, it can't. It's from her."

Clarke, drawing her eyes away from the paper, rests her hand on my back - strong and steady. I turn to her.

"How do you know?" she asks me. "The handwriting?"

I shake my head.

"What then? What in these similarities makes you so sure?"

"The story about the heavy rain before I was born," I sigh, "She did tell me about that, quite a few times actually. And that..." I move my hand toward the paper, my trembling finger underlining the last sentence, and swallow. "That's what my dad wrote to us in his farewell letter."

I love you both so much, Clarke quietly reads the line out loud, but enough's enough.

I just nod.

Actually hearing those words out loud makes me feel like I suddenly can't move anymore. Like I can't talk or even think clear any longer.

Mom.

She was here. She was here, waiting for us... and then waiting for death. We are standing on a graveyard, and somewhere close we're gonna find her unnamed grave.

Unless things are even worse. Unless she turned. Unless she became one of them...

"Lexa?"

Slowly, like it's coming from a hundred miles away, Clarke's voice reaches me.

"Lexa, what do you need? What can we do?"

"I-I don't know."

Her hand finds my back again, then lowers to my waist as if she wants to protect me from falling. "Maybe you should sit down for a bit?"

I nod, almost in slow-motion, but since I still don't remember how to, I don't move. Clarke doesn't make me, but doesn't let go of me either. As I keep staring at the collapsed mess in the distance, almost like my eyes are glued to it, she turns to Madi.

"There was really nothing else there?"

This time it's Madi who shakes her head. "We can look again, though?" she cautiously suggests. "Maybe lift some of those rocks? Strand can help with that, and—"

"Strand," I murmur at the mention of his name. I blink, forcing myself to focus again, then look from one to the other. "Where is he?"

"Good question." Clarke tip toes and looks around her, then back at us. "I thought he was keeping an eye on Madi. Clearly, I was wrong."

Averting her eyes, Madi keeps her mouth shut, which seems like a wise choice to me. Though just like before not one she gets away with.

"Madi?" Clarke questions her. She sounds stern and not amused, like she just found the empty cookie jar on the counter, and despite everything—or maybe because of it?—a soft chuckle escapes me.

Madi shrugs, her eyes still on the ground. "He went to check out the far edge. I told him I was right behind him."

"So you lied to him?"

"No, I was right behind him. I just... took a little detour."

"And?"

"Got distracted," Madi sighs. She looks up through her lashes. "I'm sorry."

For a moment they just stare at each other. Then Clarke takes a deep breath and shakes her head.

"Let's just find him."

She turns to me, yet when she does I can still hear Madi mutter behind her back, quietly grumbling to no one in particular, "At least I found something..."

She's not wrong there.

Clarke ignores her, at least for now. Instead she gives me an examining once-over, her eyes narrow with worry.

"You're okay?"

I nod again, even when we both know it's a lie.

She reaches for me, lifting her hand to touch my face in a sweet, soft caress.

"You wanna stay here?"

I lean into her touch, just for a second, then catch her hand in mine. Bringing it to my lips, I gently kiss her fingertips.

"No," I answer her truthfully. "Let's go."

Without letting go of her hand, I turn toward the run-down settlement again, about to make my way to the other side of it. That's when Clarke stops me.

"Let's go around it," she says, reading the puzzlement in my eyes, "It's easier and a whole less dirty."

I know she's just making up excuses. She doesn't care about the dirt. By now we are all covered in mud, dust and God knows what else. Our hands are black from digging through piles of ashes and climbing over charred wood that's been blocking our way around every other corner. Our faces are far from clean; we are all painted with at least three dark smudges.

She just wants to keep me away from there.

I agree with a weak smile, and together the three of us start following the outside border of the former town. Here and there the walls and fences are still up, but for the most part they are completely torn down - run over by too many walkers to stand tall against.

The sight reminds me of the stadium. And as always, the stadium makes me think of Mom again. Forcing myself to look away, I fix my eyes on the sky. Beyond my control, a shaky breath falls from my lips.

Clarke squeezes my hand, a tender gesture to tell me she's here. She breaks my silence by quietly speaking up.

"Even if she was really here..."

"There's no if," I cut her off, "She was here."

"Okay." She takes a second to reframe her words, then tries again. "The fact that she decided to stay here doesn't have to mean she actually did, does it? She could have changed her mind."

I look at her. "Mom was many things," I answer with a weary sniff, "but she was never someone to change her mind. When she decided on something, she followed through. Always."

"I have no doubt about that. But as long as we don't have proof that she really..." Swallowing hard, she doesn't finish her sentence.

"We'll find proof," I tell her, my gaze straight ahead again. "First we'll find Strand and then we'll find..." I clear my throat. "Then we'll find her."

As we keep going onward I can tell she's watching me, but except for another mumbled okay she doesn't say anything anymore. She knows like no other that I won't leave this place until I have turned every rock. Like I know that she will be by my side when I do so, ready to catch me when I can finally fall.

Which is not just yet.

Drawing in a long, deep breath, I square my shoulders and cast her another glance.

The moment our eyes meet it hits me that looking at her is all I want to do. Not able to help myself, I openly study her with overwhelming admiration. This sudden feeling is so big, so indescribable, that I don't know how to express it. But I want to, I want her to know how she moves me, in every way.

The only words that come out though are thank you.

She frowns, genuinely confused. "For what?"

I show her another smile, one that doesn't take any effort, despite my heavy heart. "For everything. Everything you ever did for me, and everything you will do in our days ahead."

Her lashes flutter when she turns away her gaze from me, suddenly looking shy. "Don't be silly."

"I could not be more serious," I tell her, and I mean every word of it.

Her eyes meet mine again. "You're making it sound like I'm doing something special."

"Because you do." I softly squeeze her hand. "And because you are. I saw that right when we met, and you haven't proved me wrong ever since. The only thing I don't get is what I ever did to deserve you. And how I can truly tell you what you mean to me. Which is so much more than thank you. Or even than I love you - which I do! But—"

Before I can say anything else, she stops me by pressing her lips against mine, not just taking me by surprise, but also unbalancing me. I swiftly hold on to her, preventing the both of us from an embarrassing tumble. She uses the moment to deepen our kiss.

"I love you more than I love you too," she whispers when our lips break apart, "And I don't want you to ever question anything you deserve. You deserve the world. One that doesn't keep taking from you."

I slowly shake my head. "That's not true."

"But it is."

I want to tell her wrong. Want to point out that I've taken what wasn't mine. Captured and destructed. That I've betrayed - her, and so many others. That I've hurt and destroyed innocent people, kids even. That I've got blood on my hands that will never dry.

But I can't. Because I think I actually believe her.

For the first time in my life I hear what she's saying... what she's been saying all along. That I was made into this. That I never got a chance. Conditioned, just like Aden, and all the other children. It doesn't justify every choice I made, but I see—I finally see—how I didn't deserve to be faced with those choices in the first place, yet how I keep punishing myself for it nonetheless. Over and over again.

Clarke already taught me the need to forgive myself. And I tried. I really did. I just hadn't realized until right now that I'd been doing it all wrong. That forgiveness isn't just words, isn't just pardoning yourself. True self-forgiveness is allowing yourself the exact same things, the exact same life, as everybody else. Most of all, it's allowing yourself not just to love, but also to be loved.

As if she can read my thoughts, Clarke pulls me into her arms, muffling into my hair as she gives me a tight hug, "You are worthy of it - of all of it! All the love and support this world can give you. I wish you could feel that without any doubt, or any guilt. You are no less than any of us. You hear me?"

Within the safety of her embrace I just nod.

"Tell me."

I swallow. "I'm no less than any of you."

"And?"

"And I'm worthy of it all."

She loosens her hold on me, just enough to meet my gaze. "You believe me?"

Wanting to give her an honest answer I stay quiet for a second, giving her question the thought it deserves. Then, with my lips tucked between my teeth, I slowly nod again. "I'm starting to," I answer truthfully, before pulling her close again. "Thank you."

I can feel her smile against my neck. "You said that already."

"Yeah, you're not taking that away from me." I gently press my forehead against hers. "If I need to learn to feel worthy, than you need to learn to take some credit. Cause I will never not be grateful for you."

"Fair enough," she whispers, and then we both fall quiet for a bit, as we just stand there, together as one.

"Clarke?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not okay."

"I know." She steps back, looking me in the eyes again. "But you don't have to be."

"I don't get it. She's not more dead now than she's been for the past so many years."

"Maybe, when you put it like that," she says with the lightest shrug, "But I don't think it's that black and white. There was a chance, and you knew it. You lost that chance. You can be upset about that."

I fumble with the letter in my pocket. "I wish we'd never came here," I sigh.

Clarke nods understandingly. "You had the best reason in the world though," she just says, and I know deep in my heart that she's right.

Reaching out, she lays her hand on my shoulder. "Come on, let's catch up with Madi, before she goes missing, too."

We continue our walk in silence. It doesn't take long before we spot Madi running toward us.

"I found him!" she calls from about forty yards away. After all this time I still haven't managed to keep her quiet.

When she reaches us, she's panting, but it doesn't stop her. "He fell down in this pit, around that corner over there. Some kind of walker trap, I think. He's alright, but he can't get out."

We quickly follow her. The man-made ditch looks indeed like a trap. Over time I've helped to make many of these, or variants thereof. Strand can count himself lucky that this one comes without spikes!

"You're okay?" I greet him when looking over the edge, into the depth.

"I'm fine," Strand answers, looking up at us. "Just really eager to get out of here. Took you guys long enough."

"Keep talking like that and I'll leave you there," I counter, but of course I'm already on my knees to get him out.

Before I lie flat on my stomach, however, my eye falls on the three corpses in the pit.

"Wait, who are they? Were you attacked?"

Strand shakes his head. "No, they've been here for a while. They're walkers."

"Walkers?" I frown. "A trap like this won't kill walkers. Or did you?"

Looking down on them, Strand crinkles his nose in disgust - for as long as I've known him, he's never been willing to give them one more glance than absolutely necessary.

"Someone must have been down here to stab them in the head. There." He points at a deep, ugly cut right behind the walker's ear. "Same with this one, and I assume..." He lifts his foot, pushing the dead body of the second guy to the side with it, revealing the dead woman underneath him. She's face down and layered in dirt, but the sight is enough to silence him abruptly and to make me gasp for air.

She's blonde, not much taller than me and somewhat broad shouldered. What strikes me most though is the fact that she has visible burn scars all over her left arm - the only part of her that's exposed.

I inhale, bracing myself.

"Turn her around."

"Alicia, no," Strand protests from at least six feet below me, "Please, not like this."

I don't look at him, nor at Clarke, who's now kneeling beside me, her hand steadily on my back. I just look at the dead woman at my friend's feet.

"Do it," I tell him again. "Let's get this over with."

And then he gives in.

Crouching down next to her, he reaches for her shoulders, carefully, almost respectfully, and thus in a total different manner than a minute ago. I can hear how he takes the deepest breath possible, readying himself for whatever comes next, and I refuse to blink when he does what I asked him to do.

When he finally turns her onto her back.

... ...

Chapter Text

Although her face is severely damaged, the dead woman in the pit is still recognizable. That is, for those who used to know her. I'm not one of those people.

I turn my eyes away from her and look at Lexa, who is crouching down next to me, motionless and with her gaze fixed on the features of the corpse.

Holding her breath deeply within her chest, she doesn't make a sound. And with her eyes as tight as her jaw, I realize her expression could mean shock just as well as relief - leaving me clueless and uncertain.

"Is it... Is it her?"

My question breaks the nerve-racking silence that has fallen upon us. It is as if my voice awakens her, remembers her how to breathe again. She gasps, then finally releases the air from her lungs.

"No," she answers, slowly shaking her head, "It's not."

There's no single hint of doubt in her voice.

Before I can ask her anything else, she gets up and takes a few steps back, distancing herself from the scene below her, and from everything it could have meant. I want to follow her, hold her, do anything really to be there for her, but right then Strand calls for us.

Lexa doesn't move, so this time it's Madi and I who lower ourselves. As we're holding on to each other, expanding our weight, we reach out for him. Grasping the both of us by our hands, Strand pulls himself out of the trap without too much difficulty.

He walks straight up to Lexa. As he lays his hand on her shoulder, she looks up at him until their eyes meet.

"Are you okay?" he asks her.

She squints her eyes. "Are you?"

"I don't know," he answers truthfully, "The thought of finding her like that..."

Lexa just nods. Her mind seems elsewhere.

"I found a letter," Madi tells Strand as soon as we join them. "Lexa thinks it's from her mom."

"Really?" He tilts his head at her. "What did it say?"

"It said she was done," Lexa speaks up before Madi can answer, making us all look at her again. "I hate to break this to you, but the chance she's stumbling around like one of them is real, and pretty big. Better prepare yourself for the worst."

Strand shakes his head rather vigorously. "Madison? No! She would never give up."

"Yeah," Lexa agrees, heaving a heavy sigh. She fumbles in her pocket, then shoves the note into his chest. "That's what I used to believe."

He takes the piece of paper from her and unfolds it, but Lexa doesn't wait for his reaction. Turning around already, she starts to make her way back to the ruins formally known as Coalport. Only when she seems to realize we're not following her, she briefly looks over her shoulder.

"Madi," she calls for her sister, "please show me again where you found the letter."

Ten minutes later we're at the foot of the collapsed building Madi entered earlier. Though building is really too much of a name. It's a pile of cement blocks, together with what I think used to be a door frame, a part of the roof and a hell of a lot of debris.

Between the rocks there are some gaps here and there, which makes the whole thing look terribly unstable.

"You crawled in there?" I ask Madi, already knowing the answer. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!"

Madi just shrugs and mutters something beneath her breath.

I raise a brow at her. "What's that?"

"I would do it again," she answers, suddenly looking straight at me, with flaring pupils. "I'll go in again right now if Lexa asks me to."

Feeling myself getting riled up, I open my mouth to respond, but Lexa stops me by quickly stepping between the two of us.

"I'm not," she says, gesturing at the both of us to calm down. "Madi, I'm not asking you to get in there again. You took enough risk as it is."

"So what do you want to do?" Strand asks. He steps closer to the mount of rubble, rests his hand on it and kneels down. Peeking through one of the small openings, his voice slightly echoes when he goes on, "You want to climb in there yourself?"

His question makes my stomach tighten. She's gonna say yes. When she's set her mind on something, there's no stopping her. Like mother like daughter, shared genes or not. She's gonna say yes and I can't withhold her and...

"No," she answers. When I turn to face her, I find her staring at me instead of him. She briefly takes my hand and squeezes it, as if to reassure me. "I made a promise. One that comes with not taking crazy risks."

A soft sigh of relief escapes my lips, but when she steps forward to join Strand, I realize I still feel tensed. I don't know why, but it's a feeling I can't shake off. A feeling I recognize, but can't place just yet.

"Maybe we can dig our way in?" Lexa says to no one in particular. She runs her hand over one of the blocks. "Remove the small debris. See how far we get."

Without waiting for any response she picks up a broken roof tile, throws it to the side, then looks at us again. "See?" her eyes seem to say, "This could work."

Strand answers with a shrug, stretches his arms above his head and begins to pry off a piece of wood. Watching him not getting anywhere, Madi pokes him in the ribs.

"I think it's stuck underneath that plasterboard," she points out. "Help me up, I think I can get it."

I want to stop her, but hesitate. I already kept her from going in and I feel like I need to show her some trust, despite not feeling sure about it. Besides, Lexa is asking for my attention before I can even speak up. She's carrying some bricks that are clearly more heavy than she was prepared for and I quickly make my way over to give her a hand. Together we drop them all down behind us without breaking any of our toes.

"Thanks," she exhales before looking up at me. When she does, she frowns. "Are you alright? You look distracted."

She's right, I am distracted. I just don't know why, and more importantly, I don't want to bother her with it. She's got enough on her mind as it is.

"I'm fine," I mumble. "Let's keep going."

While Lexa and I carry away some more bricks and rocks, I can't help keeping a close eye on Madi, who's now standing on a piece of concrete, helping Strand to remove a second plasterboard. The concrete looks stable enough, but I know those fragments she's leaning on are not - if only because of the hollow space underneath it all. Of course Madi weighs practically nothing, but still...

I watch how the two of them bring the board down without any problems, then carefully climb up again to get another part. They seem to work well together, without taking any risks, and after taking another deep breath I force myself to focus on Lexa again.

She's studying one of the bigger rocks, one that's clearly too heavy to lift. A pensive look clouds her face.

"I think this one blocks another opening," she tells me when she spots me watching her. "A big one."

"I thought you didn't want to get in there?"

"I don't," she says, and we both know she actually means "I won't". If it weren't for me, she'd be in there already.

We share a look, one of those I-know-that-you-know ones. One that always leaves me speechless, because everything is said already, albeit without any words. And because it still reminds me of that first time I felt I really saw her, and she really saw me - the morning after we escaped from Pauna.

Straightening her posture, she clears her throat. "I just thought it might give us a better look inside. Letting more light in and all."

I nod. It's worth the try.

"There's no way we can lift it, but maybe we can roll it to the side?"

"I think we need to use some kind of lever," Lexa agrees, already searching around her. "That rod might work."

She picks up an iron bar and sticks it between the rocks and concrete until it's about two feet in.

"Ready?" I ask her.

This time she's the one to nod.

Without any countdown we both throw our weight in; Lexa by pulling the rod, her body almost horizontal as she firmly presses her feet against the other rocks, and me by fully pushing against the damn thing with my shoulder.

It's enough to move it one inch.

One inch that is enough to make another brick move, just a bit, about two feet above us, and that shift is enough to wake up gravity.

I can hear the sliding, creaking and finally the collapsing of the ruin, together with Madi's scream. I can feel the whirling dust stinging my eyes, and Lexa grabbing my arm to pull me away. I can even smell it all - the musty scent of clay and mold that mixes with the air it couldn't reach until right now.

But I don't see it.

What I see is Polis. Polis the way I found it after the second wave. Polis that kept my people trapped, right underneath its remains. The heavy, merciless remains of the temple. Of the Commander's tower, and of Lexa's thrown.

What I see is myself, all alone, desperate to get in. To get to them.

To not be on my own anymore.

What I see is a moment in my life I never hoped to relive. An experience—a feeling of total loneliness, which once broke me like nothing else ever did, except for the loss of my father, and then Lexa. A feeling that had driven me to the edge, about to give up, and that still haunts me at times, knowing it's the source of my biggest fear: to be left alone.

"Clarke? Clarke, look at me!"

Lexa's voice reaches me and I slowly turn toward her. She examens me closely. "What's going on?"

"N-Nothing," I quietly answer. "Just a memory. Where... Where's Madi? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, she jumped away right in time." Lexa points at Madi, who is sitting on a boulder a little further away, right next to Strand. They're both covered in dust, staring at the mess in defeat, but seemingly undamaged.

It isn't till then that I realize I'm also on the ground, fallen backwards just in time... and just like all those years ago.

But I'm also aware of the difference. This time I'm not alone. This time I'm finding myself in Lexa's arms, and something tells me she's not willing to let go. I face her again and with our eyes closed we rest our foreheads against each other. She's still panting, just like me, and I bet our heartbeats are racing the same pace as well.

"Tell me about your memory," she whispers.

Without breaking contact, I gently shake no. "It's nothing."

It's not that I don't want to share these past experiences with her. I just really don't want to burden her. Especially not today.

"With you it's never nothing," she says, and I can hear the playful smirk in her voice as she uses my own words against me. When I sit back to look at her, I catch a smile that instantly warms my heart. I can't help but mirror it. "I mean it," she goes on, "You can tell me. Whatever it is."

Lifting my hand I cup her face, my fingers softly against her cheek, and shake my head again. "Just stay with me."

"Always," she simply says, and I believe her.

I'm keeping my gaze on her, drowning in the deep green of her eyes, until approaching footsteps make me look up.

"Everyone okay?" Strand asks, towering above us.

We quickly assure him that we're both fine and scramble up from the ground. As soon as I'm back on my feet, I pull Madi in for an unasked hug. A grateful smile creeps across my face when I feel her not only accepting my embrace, but fully answering it.

When I finally let go of her, I spot Strand and Lexa inspecting the chaos. Strand, coming back to us after walking all around it, is the first to reach his verdict.

"I'm sorry Alicia, but I think you can forget about this," he says with a sorrowful frown. "Whole thing came down like a house of cards."

Lexa drops her shoulders in defeat. Her mom's last known whereabouts is no more. She knows it, just like we all do.

"Let's just... go," she sighs, turning her back to the mess, and to the last snippet of hope to find closure.

"Where to?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "Anywhere but here."

Exhausted by this entire day, we make our way back in silence. We find our bikes where we left them, together with our gear. I pull my bottle out of my backpack. There's not much left in it. However, the others are out completely, so we share the little I have - hardly three sips each.

Strand nods toward the road we came from.

"We could go back to that crossroad and go to the lake from there? I'm not sure about shelter, but at least there's water we can boil."

When Lexa stays quiet I agree for the both of us. It doesn't sound great, but right now I honestly wouldn't know where else to go. Besides, we can all use some freshen up.

Due to the high grass we walk with our bikes to the path that lead us here, Lexa and I shortly behind Madi and Strand, just like a few hours ago. Yet right when we get to the edge of the field, about to get back onto the saddle, we both freeze in motion at the sound of a sudden voice reaching us from behind.

"Alicia?"

We turn around as one. There's a woman. She's in her late forties, early fifties. Blonde. Harmed. But very much alive.

"Alicia?" she calls again. "Is that you?"

... ...

Chapter Text

I've once been taught that the ultimate sense to evoke a memory is smell. It's indeed very powerful. The scent of wet timber instantly brings me back to the pine forests we used to go camping. One hint of a specific herb and I find myself in my grandmother's kitchen again. And ever since I remember it all again, the pungent aroma of smoke and ashes conjures up images of funeral pyres more often than not.

I don't agree it's the utmost one though, at least not for me. For me the key to a memory lies in the sound of a voice.

It might be close to impossible to exactly recall a voice after many years, even when you try your hardest, but there's something almost magical in actually hearing it again. As soon as it reaches you, you recognize it. Immediately. Without any doubt. Voices may look very similar sometimes, but they never exactly are. And when they belong to someone who matters, they can't deceive you.

That's why I know. When she calls my name, and nothing other than that, I know, even before turning around. I know it's her.

And in that second of realization there's nothing else. The world around me turns blurry before my eyes. All sounds fade out. It's as if everything turns still, as if every living being forgets how to breathe - me included. In that one second it's like the planet stops spinning, leaving me with only one thought: she's alive.

Though in this moment I don't quite remember how to move, I manage to slowly turn until I face her.

She's standing at the other side of the field. This small figure, holding her hand above her eyes to have a better look. The distance between us is too big for any further details, but I don't need them.

"Alicia? Is that you?" she calls again, aided by the wind that carries my name across.

For a moment all I can do is stare at her, without blinking, and without moving. I am vaguely aware that my mouth has fallen open, but nevertheless I'm still not breathing until finally my lungs give up and the air I am holding inside comes out in a deep, shaky breath.

"Mom?"

My own voice comes from afar. It's low, not more than a mumble, and impossible for her to hear.

I wet my lips, swallow and try again, while taking a wobbly step in her direction.

"Mom."

It's no longer a question.

I'm hardly aware of the next few seconds, but I think my legs just start moving on their own, leading me towards her, and hers must be doing the same, because all of a sudden we meet each other halfway - all of a sudden I find myself right in front of her and then, without giving it a second thought, I'm back in her arms.

I can't remember an embrace as tight as this one, and if anyone would tell me I can never let go again, I wouldn't mind.

Where I'm still lost for words, Mom's clearly not. "Oh my god, oh my god," she repeatedly murmurs close to my ear, her voice now heavy with emotion, but at the same time exactly as it used to be. "My baby, my precious baby, I can't believe it. You're here. You're really here."

After what might be forever she loosens her hold on me, just enough to give us a close look at each other. It's the first moment I really see her, really see what has become of her. I hesitantly bring my hand to her face, then touch it as gently as possible. The scars beneath my fingertips feel surreal.

"Is this real?" I whisper. "Are you real?"

She takes my hand in hers, directing it away from her face, and lifts her other hand to wipe away my tears. I didn't even realize I was crying.

"Are you?" she asks.

"I'm honestly not sure," I gasp. "What happened? I found your letter, and you sounded so determent, so..."

"I was," she nods. I expect her to go on, to explain herself, but then I note she's distracted by something or someone far behind me. Squinting over my shoulder, her eyes narrow down as she tries to focus on the small group of people standing about forty yards away from us.

"Where's your brother?" she asks me, still scanning the surroundings in the distance. "Where's Nick?"

I swallow again.

"Mom," I quietly start, trying to make her look at me again. She does, though with clear resistance, as if she needs to physically force her gaze to withdraw itself.

"Alicia, where is he?" she tries again. There's a glimpse of hope in her question, but by the look in her eyes I can tell she's already bracing herself for the worst.

"He's gone," I tell her, unable to withhold the sob that wells up. "We lost him. Shortly after... after we lost you."

As soon as the truth is out she pulls me in for another hug. This time there's no flood of words. There's only her and me. The last two standing.

"Oh honey," she just sighs.

Hardly aware of the wind picking up, and not bothered one bit by the first raindrops that are starting to come down, mixing with our tears until you can no longer tell the difference, we just stand there, in the middle of this wide, open field; vulnerable for this world full of danger around us, but at the same time completely careless and almost at peace. Would this moment be our very last at least we'd go together. It's a strange sensation, but not a bad one.

When Mom finally lets go of me, she takes my hand again. "Come with me."

I don't ask her where to, I just nod. Yet when she's about to turn around I stop her. "Not without them."

I look over my shoulder, and when my eyes meet those of my people they start moving towards us.

"Who are they?" Mom asks, back on her guard at once, until she spots a familiar face among them. "No way! Victor?!"

While closing the last few yards, he widely grins at her.

"Madison! As I live and breathe!"

As I step aside, giving them room to embrace each other, my gaze finds Clarke's again. We exchange a quick look, one filled with understanding. I'm okay, I tell her. It's okay, she tells me, right before Mom turns towards them - ready to be introduced.

"Mom, these are Clarke and Madi," I tell her.

They share a smile, followed by a short nod. Polite, yet friendly. "Hey," Mom says.

"Hey," Clarke and Madi respond in one voice.

I'm not sure what else to say, not in this moment that is, but it doesn't matter, since Mom already turns around. She points at a young man at the edge of the field. He's sitting on a fallen tree trunk, which is probably why I hadn't noticed him before.

"That's Jaime. He's with me."

Without saying anything else she starts making her way towards him. The four of us share a short look, then swiftly follow her. As soon as we get closer I notice how young this Jaime actually is. I quickly estimate he must be about Madi's age, maybe a few years older. Fifteen, sixteen perhaps? His baseball cap is hiding most of his messy, light brown curls and he's wearing sunglasses that seem too big for him.

"He lost his sight at a very young age," Mom explains, as if she can read my mind.

"How long have you been traveling together?" I ask her.

"Just a few months. Since this place fell."

He saved her, I instantly realize. He got her out of there when she was about to give up.

And then, well aware this is about Mom, it hits me. I finally get what she was about to tell me before, why she didn't persist. She was needed. This kid needed her, enough to thwart her plans - her simply being unable to let an innocent child get killed. She saved him first. And by doing so, he did the same. He's the reason that she's still here. It might not have been his intention, but it's enough for me to care for him and owe him the world - or at least my protection.

Despite crossing the last ten yards in silence, our approaching footsteps don't seem to startle Jaime. His hearing must be sharp enough to distinguish a voice from quite a distance. Or maybe he recognizes Mom's tread by now?

When we reach him Mom introduces us, though in kind of a hasty manner. Catching her briefly glance up to the sky I get why: the weather is getting worse.

"Let's save the further acquaintance for later, before this storm gets the best of us," she suggests. "Come, our hide-out isn't too far."

Jaime gets up and starts leading us the way, which I have to admit impresses me.

It's about a fifteen minute walk, in which we don't speak much as our focus needs to be on our surroundings. Apparently there's still quite some danger lingering in this part of the area. I don't mind though, as it gives me time to take a breath and adjust a little to this new reality. Or try to, at least.

Mom survived. She really did.

The words keep racing through my head, over and over and over again, while my eyes search for her every other minute, just to make sure I haven't made it all up. Relying on everyone else to keep us safe, it's the only thing that's on my mind right now. The fact that she's really here.

It's the sensation of the lightest brush against the back of my hand that finally pulls me out of my daze and makes me look aside. It's Clarke.

Without thinking I reach for her, about to take her hand in mine, to hold her close and share this endless stream of thoughts, not to mention the jumble of emotions. Just like I would do at any other moment. But something stops me, something coming from within, and I feel bad about it right away.

"It's okay," she mouths soundlessly, repeating her reassurance from before. She smiles at me. "There's no rush."

I lean closer towards her, keeping my voice as low as possible. "I don't want to lie about you. But..." I fall quiet. I have no clue what I want to say. I just know there's a but.

"You're not," Clarke helps me out. "You're just taking it one step at the time. Which is the only way."

I exhale, releasing the tension I was holding inside, then nod. Liking it or not, I know she's right.

"How do you feel?" Clarke asks after another quick glance at the others, and one person in particular. Though Mom keeps searching for me the way I do for her, she seems mostly occupied with keeping us safe - unlike me, obviously. Also I get this feeling that she's giving me space on purpose. Or maybe she needs it herself?

"Confused," I admit. I shrug clumsily. "And overwhelmed. I mean... it's a lot!" I look at her again, watch her nod in comprehension. "But I think I mostly feel happy."

As I finally allow myself the feeling, as well as the small smile that comes with it, the corners of her mouth quirk up. "Well isn't that something," she laughs, playfully bumping my shoulder with hers. "No wonder you're confused. Isn't happiness high up on your notorious weakness list?"

I shake my head, chuckling, and cast her a fleeting, mischievous look. "You proved me wrong about that a long time ago."

"I know," she winks, before her expression turns back to serious. "I also know it scares you."

I can feel how my face falls. She's right. I just don't want her to be. Not about this. Not anymore.

Looking up again, my gaze finds Mom's. I'm not sure how long she's been watching me this time, but as soon as our eyes meet her face lights up in this way that makes me forget everything else. Even those scars that are right there, constantly telling me there's so much I don't know yet.

"Maybe it's time to put an end to that?" I answer Clarke without averting my eyes from Mom. "Would you help me try?"

"Always," she says. The warmth in her voice tells me she's smiling again.

I want to thank her, but right then we reach the lake, where Mom points at a stranded boat on the shore. I don't have to ask her why it's not in the water. The hole in the hull is almost big enough to crawl through.

"We're here," she tells us all, before turning to Strand. "Welcome to The New Abigail."

Strand raises his brows. "New?!"

"Wanna sleep outside?" she warns him.

I don't wait for his answer. Instead I step closer to the boat, that doesn't look even close like The Abigail, as it isn't half its size and indeed seems to be fifty years old - at least! When I stroke the old wood, cautious not to get a splinter, I look over my shoulder at Mom.

"This is your home? It looks... awful."

"Does it?" Jaime answers before she can, "I never noticed."

He passes me and when he drops to his knees I realize that the gap I noted before actually is the entrance. I look at Strand, unable to stop from grinning. "Good luck with that, big guy!"

Two minutes later we all made it inside, though Strand not without some serious swearing. Jaime closes the gap behind us by sliding a heavy board in front of it, while Mom lights a couple of gas lamps. Now that we're finding ourselves within the hull I have to admit it's bigger than I expected. However, they don't seem to use it for anything other than storage room.

Mom hands Strand a lamp, takes the other one herself, then directs us towards a small ladder that leads us straight up, into a somewhat cramped space they turned into some kind of living room. It's got a table, some wonky chairs and something that might have been a couch in a past life.

We don't get a chance to absorb our first impressions.

"That door brings you to the captain's hut, that one takes you outside. Careful though, the deck is slippery." Spinning on her heels Mom goes on in one breath: "Behind that door are three small cabins, two of them with bunks. It's not much, but it should do. We use the third one as a caboose. Anyone hungry?"

Nobody answers, which tells me they're all once again waiting for me. Yet in this moment my brain is incapable of forming any clear thoughts, let alone of taking the lead.

Ignoring all them I take a step towards my mother, who in her restlessness suddenly feels like a stranger to me.

"Mom? Can we maybe just... sit for a bit?"

"Y-Yeah," she stammers, confirming she must feel at least as lost as me, which in a way is helping. "Of course. Come here. Sit... sit."

Taking my arm she leads me to the couch, makes me sit, but forgets to do so herself until I remind her to.

The room is about to fall quiet again, but this time it's Clarke who steps forward. "Jaime, can you show us those cabins, so we can drop our stuff? And maybe help us make some food?"

He doesn't need to be asked twice.

We watch them follow him, and when they've all disappeared behind the narrow door, Mom turns to me again.

"I still can't believe it," she sighs. "You need to tell me everything."

My eyes widen. "You need to tell me everything! How are you here? How are you even... alive? You were trapped! We saw the fire, we watched the stadium go down..."

She shakes her head. "I don't know. You're right, I should be dead. I was this close. I was closed in by fire and death, both rapidly getting near. There was no escape. Except there was an upside about the huge amount of infected around me. Their weight made the floor below me collapse, made me fall into the hollow space underneath. I got trapped in there, in this little oven that nearly burned me alive, yet by some miracle also got shielded from the flames by the pile of roasted bodies above me. It was sheer luck."

I flinch, not able to hide the terror crossing my face. "Luck?! That sounds like hell. Literal hell!"

"Oh yes," she nods, "it sure was hell. I got stuck in there for days. When I was finally found and rescued, you were far gone. But I was alive. And as far as I knew, you were too."

"You never stopped believing that?"

"Never!"

My eyes drop to my hands in my lap. "I hate that you were wrong."

"Me too, baby." She rests her hand on top of mine. "Me too."

As we stay quiet for a moment, I try to come up with something to say, anything really to change the subject, but my brain is still a mess. And unlike me, Mom's not done with the heavy part.

"Were you with him?"

I just nod.

"What happened to him?"

Still not looking at her, I sniff. "He got shot."

Visibly affected, Mom shifts in her seat. "By who?" And then again, when I don't answer her, "Alicia, who shot him?"

When I look up, her eyes pierce into mine. I swallow.

"Charlie."

"Charlie?" She stares at me, wide-eyed, exactly as I imagined she would. "Ou— our Charlie? The orphan we took in?"

I nod again.

"But why?!"

I shrug - not that I don't care, but because I never really got to understand. I mean, I know Charlie witnessed Nick kill that Vulture, the one he held accountable for the fall of the stadium—and Mom's assumed death—and who happened to be her kind-of caretaker. But I honestly believed Nick meant ten times more to her than that asshole ever did. Clearly, I was wrong.

"Did you revenge him?" she asks.

I don't know what to say. How can I explain to her that I tried and failed? That we got passed it? And that she's actually still with us, with the people I still consider mine?

"It's complicated," I mumble.

"I get that," she nods, much to my relief, even though I know for sure she's not done with it. "It's a lot, and it's been such a long time. It will probably take us forever to catch up."

I shrug again, though this time in a more casual way.

"I've got forever."

She mirrors my smile. "Me too."

There's another moment of silence, one I'd say is somewhere between slight discomfort and utter bliss. Who knew those emotions could combine that easily?

Still looking at me in disbelief, Mom reaches out and caresses my cheek. A deep sigh falls off her lips. "God, look at you. All grown up. A woman now..."

Following her I lift my hand, slowly as I don't want to scare her. I carefully touch her face, just like before. This time she doesn't stop me. The burn scars that cover part of her left cheek extend to her neck, where they disappear under her collar.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, afraid for the answer.

"Not anymore." She must read the doubt in my eyes, which are still glued to her face, trying to sound as convincing as possible when she goes on, "I'm fine, honey. I really am. Are you though? I mean... is life treating you well?"

Is it? It's hard to tell in a world as fucked up as this. On the other hand, I'm still standing. I got to escape the heavy burden that comes with being the Commander again. And most of all, I'm not alone.

"I'm good," I nod. "I've got people."

Mom's lips turn into an amused grin. "Yeah, I noticed. I can't believe Victor Strand is still around!"

"He's not that bad. Quite the character, but not bad. Thanks to you teaching him a lesson or two."

She narrows her eyes. "Is that how he calls it?"

We share a chuckle, leaving the answer in the middle.

"We're staying near DC," I keep going instead. "Luciana is still with us. June, too. You might remember her as Naomi. And then there's a bunch of new people, of course."

"Like Madi and Clarke?" She suggestively raises her eyebrow. Does she distrust them?

"Yes," I answer, suddenly not knowing what else to say.

"Nice of them to come all this way with you," Mom goes on. 

I avert my eyes, suddenly engrossed by an invisible piece of lint on my sweater. "Well, they're nice people," I murmur. When Mom lays her hand on top of mine, stopping me from picking my sleeve, I look up again.

"I'm not attacking them," she smiles at me, "I can tell they matter to you. And you know I trust your judgement. I trust you."

I bite my lips, letting her words sink in, then nod again. "They do. Matter, I mean. A lot." 

My gaze moves back down. Her hand is still resting on mine, showing more burn scars. 

"Good, I'm glad. To know you've found friends who—"

"She's my girlfriend." The words are out before I know it, and when she stays quiet, I force myself to look up. "Clarke. She's my girlfriend."

Mom just nods. There's no sign of shock, nor of surprise. Not on her side, that is.

"You knew?!" I exclaim, wide-eyed.

"Well, no, but I figured as much. You two are pretty obvious."

"You've hardly seen us together!"

"I've seen enough." She tilts her head. "I'm still your mother, remember?" 

I heave a sigh, pull my hand away from hers and cross my arms, subconsciously hugging myself.

"Are you... okay with it?"

I watch her through my eyelashes, watch how her frown draws a deep line between her brows.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't be?" she asks me, unable to hide the concern in her voice.

"N-No. But, you know... because she's a gi—"

"Is she trouble?" Mom cuts me off. "Dishonest? Selfish? Untrustworthy? Is she bad for you, in any way?"

"Not at all!" I cry out. My eyes find hers again. "Clarke is the best. She would never hurt me."

"You're sure about that?"

I nod vigorously. "More than anything. I trust her with my life!"

She cocks her head again. "And I assume you'd give yours for her, if you had to?"

"Without a doubt. I owe her that much."

"For what?" Mom asks, her eyes squinted again. "For loving you?"

"For saving me," I answer, and I feel my heart glow just thinking of her. "In every possible way."

Leaning forward Mom takes my hands, holding them both tight in hers. 

"Then you explain to me why I shouldn't be anything but happy for you?"

I deeply exhale, feeling ten pounds lighter now that the truth is out. And then, without another word, I find myself nestled in her arms again. Exhausted by this endless day and the many, many emotions that came with it. But most of all blessed and serene. The hard part is over.

We sit like that until Clarke returns to inform us dinner is ready in ten.

Mom lets go off me and smiles up at her.

"Come, sit with us," she invites her, gesturing at one of the questionable chairs. "Tell me all about you. For starters, how did you girls meet?"

... ...

Chapter Text

Taken aback by Madison's unexpected question, I look at Lexa. What exactly did she tell her?

"She knows we're together," she comes to my aid. And then, to her mother, "You're gonna have to wait for the rest of it. Right now I'd rather fresh up before dinner."

She gets up before her mother can object.

"Where's your bathroom?"

"We don't have any," Madison answers matter-of-factly, "but the lake will do."

I can't see Lexa's face, but it's not hard to guess what its saying.

As she turns to make her way out, I apologetically shrug at Madison, since I still haven't said anything. She nods in reply, as if to say: "You'd better go follow her."

It's dark outside, but the nearly full moon offers enough light to find our way and to illuminate her face when she looks at me over her shoulder. The rain, that turned into a light drizzle by now, doesn't seem to bother her. But something else does.

"Can you believe this place?" she grumbles. "It's worse than a hovel!"

"Well, I don't know about that," I answer while trying to catch up with her. When I finally do, I wrap my arms around her from behind, slowing her down a little - and then completely. Holding her close against me like this, I bury my face in her hair. "It's clearly not the greatest. But it's warm. And safe." I kiss her shoulder. "And she seems to be doing well."

Feeling her body somewhat relax against mine, I loosen my grip on her, enough for her to turn around in my arms.

"This isn't a home," she sighs. "It shouldn't have to be."

"No," I agree, "But who's to say it ends here? We've made it this far. We might as well go a little further."

She narrows her eyes. "You think she'd go with us?"

"I think there's no stopping her," I softly smile at her. Whatever doubt she's feeling, I'm not sharing it. "Baby, she's your mom. She's not going anywhere."

Lexa doesn't mirror my smile. Instead she sighs again, then moves closer, resting her head against the crook of my neck. She must be exhausted after today.

"Your mom stayed behind," she murmurs.

Lifting my hand to the back of her head, I tangle my fingers into her hair and press a kiss against her forehead. My lips lightly brush her skin when I answer her.

"My mom stayed up there with the man she loves. Yet if I'd asked her to, she would have come with me. She would have chosen me, over anything or anyone. That's what loving mothers do. Now I don't know Madison, but I know what I see. She loves you over everything." I step back, making her look at me again. "She's not gonna leave you."

For a moment she just stares into my eyes. Then she slowly nods.

"I don't know why I'm this insecure all the time. So much for the stone cold Commander, huh?"

She's about to avert her eyes towards the ground, but I stop her by cupping her jaw, gently forcing her to keep them on mine.

"I'll never deny that the Commander part of you wasn't hot as hell, but I didn't fall in love with that you. I fell in love with the human you. And I still do, every day."

I can tell she hears me, believes me even, yet she stays quiet nonetheless.

"You have to stop being this hard on yourself," I go on, "You've been through so much. Twice! You have every reason to be a little distrustful." My mind flashes to her parents, who gave her up to become a Commander - albeit under pressure. The first of many times in her life the world abandoned, betrayed or wronged her.

"I trust you," she whispers.

"Then trust me on this."

She nods again, her cheek still soft and warm against the palm of my hand.

I lean in until my forehead finds hers. "And just so you know, I still think you're incredibly forceful. And incredibly hot."

A chuckle escapes her. "Wanna proof that?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!" I laugh, "But I'm not sure that's the best idea with my brand new mother-in-law just around the corner."

She laughs along, wholeheartedly, and when she does I feel a wave of pure happiness ripple through my body.

Without another word, I take her hand and lead her to the shore. Kneeling down, I test the water. "Freezing cold," I mumble, before looking up at her, right when she pulls her shirt over her head. Even in the limited light of the moon I can see how her body reacts to the cold air - and I'm not talking goosebumps.

"Oh god," I groan before I can stop myself.

I want to stand up. Pull her close. Kiss her and touch her anywhere I can. But all I can do is stare, my mouth open like a true idiot.

She giggles again. "Something tells me I'd better not ask for any assistance."

Crouching next to me, she reaches out for the water, scoops in and splashes it into her face.

"Fuck," she gasps, making me laugh and bringing me back to earth.

"I told you to trust me!"

The push against my shoulder almost makes me tumble into the water.

As she washes her face, arms and upper body—her jaw tightened as she braces the cold—I start to follow her example by taking off my jacket and henley. Eyes forward, I tell myself, but of course I can't help but peek at her every now and then. There's a large smudge of something indefinable at the back of her neck I know she's not aware of, and when she catches me gazing at it she snickers, amused and almost provocative. As if to say: do it, touch me, I know you want to...

In response I splash a handful of water at her, making her squeal, before taking her revenge at me. Frolicking on the edge of the lake like this, I know it's only a matter of seconds before one of us falls in. But miraculously, that doesn't happen.

"You think you got me there?" she grins. "I always preferred showers over baths."

I raise my brows. "You're sure about that? I remember a certain tub you seemed to love, a few weeks back—"

"Oh, that wasn't about the tub," she cuts me off, "That was all about the company."

"Yeah?" Smirking from ear to ear, I shuffle closer. "Mind to share some details?"

Lexa leans in, then stops herself - her lips only this far away from mine. I sense the warmth of her breath when she answers, "I thought I was the one teasing you?"

"Believe me, you are," I breathe, already locking our lips. When my tongue strokes hers there's a whimper that could have come from either of us. I savor her taste, well aware that it can't be anything more than this right now, then force myself to break apart.

"Soon?" I pant.

She nods, a little out of breath, just like me. "Soon."

I look at the water, then back at her. "Think we need to jump in?" I ask, the corner of my lip quirking up again. "To cool off a bit?"

"I'm afraid that won't do," Lexa returns my smile, "But I won't stop you from trying."

She stands up, and when I do the same, she shows me both sides of her face. "Clean?"

I nod. "Clean enough." Truth is, that one smudge is still there. I just don't trust myself that near to her anymore.

We use the towel Lexa grabbed on her way out to dry ourselves, then realize we left our clean clothes inside. While we put on our everything-but-crisp shirts again, I glance at her.

"So you told her? About us?"

Her smile grows bigger. "I did. I didn't intend to, I just... really wanted to. Suddenly. Isn't that weird?"

"Maybe," I shrug, "It sounds kinda beautiful though. The fact that you felt safe enough to share, to let her in."

"It was," she nods, biting her lip as she looks pensive for a second. "It wasn't just about her though, or about me. It was at least as much about you."

"I told you, you didn't have to."

"I know. But I wanted to. And I'm really glad I did."

I show her a smile, then tilt my head. "How about the rest of it? Our past? Your connection with Madi?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know. I really don't. I... I'm not sure if I can."

"You told Strand," I remind her.

"That was different." She sighs, and I can tell she's still trying to figure it out. Which makes sense, considering it all. "Telling Strand, involving him in my past, it didn't change who or what we are to each other. But with Mom, the fact alone that she's not the only one who gave birth to me... That we don't even share the same genes..."

"You're still scared to deny her?"

"Yes," she admits, "But if I can't be honest with her, I'm denying Madi, and I don't want that either."

I nod in understanding. Taking a step closer, I take the towel from her and finally wipe off that last spot. "You don't have to pressure yourself. Take as long as you need to decide. Till then you're just Alicia, who we met somewhere along the way," I quietly say. "Madi will understand. And play along."

Lexa doesn't get the chance to respond, as right then we're called inside for dinner. But as we're making our way back to the others, I get the feeling she managed to leave her dilemma outside. At least for now.

There is little talk during dinner. Everyone is tired of the long day and the many emotions. So there's just some chatter, and it almost goes without words that we're all ready for bed as soon as our plates are empty.

There's one cabin for Lexa, Madi and me. I'm not sure if Madison expected to be our third roommate, but she seems to understand without actually having to say so that Madi and I don't split up. Which makes her and Jaime take the second cabin, and Strand getting the couch.

Once in our shoebox room Madi claims the upper bunk bed, much to our relieve, leaving the bottom one for us. The bed is narrow and even without laying down I can tell the mattress is worthless. It's got this hollow in the center that's going to make us stuck together all night long for sure - which, admittedly, I don't hate.

While Lexa is helping Madi making her bed, I attempt to make ours. It's quite the challenge, as the sheets hardly fit and keep moving everywhere, depending on which corner I tug. Caught up in a task that shouldn't be this hard, I don't notice Madison coming in. Startled by the sudden sound of her voice speaking up from behind me, I shoot up straight - too fast to remember there's another bed right above me.

"Ouch!" I exclaim as I hit the rail.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to bring you some extra blankets," Madison apologizes. When I turn towards her, she steps closer, most likely to see if I'm okay, till she suddenly stops in her tracks. Her eyes are on my forehead.

"What's— What's that?"

I carefully touch the spot I just hurt, expecting the start of a bruise or maybe a bump, but when I feel wetness I realize I cut myself.

"Don't worry," I tell her, "I'm sure one band-aid will do."

Madison doesn't look very reassured though. She keeps staring at me like she's watching water burn.

Lexa jumps off the upper bunk, landing right next to me. "Mom, what's wrong?" she asks, sounding as puzzled as I feel.

Pointing at the cut on my head, Madison searches for words. "Why... Why is it...?"

That's when I look down, at the blood that sticks to my fingers.

It's black.

... ...

Chapter Text

With my eyes glued to the blood on Clarke's fingers, the world around me suddenly seems to have faded away. Has nightblood always seemed this thick, this black? Or is it because for the first time ever I'm looking at it through my mother's eyes?

"Alicia, step away from her."

Blinking as if to break a spell, I draw away my gaze from the blood and look at Mom.

"What?"

"Step away. Now!" she tells me again, this time with even more urge.

Mom's voice is as sharp as the knife she's pulling. When she points it at Clarke, I can feel panic starting to raise all through my body.

"Mom, what... what are you doing?"

"Can't you see?" she cries out. "She's infected!"

Before her words are out, she's already reaching for me with her free hand, trying to grab me, to pull me towards her. Yet all she finds is thin air as I quickly step aside.

"Alicia!"

"Mom, it's okay. She's okay!"

Shaking her head in disbelief, she points at Clarke again. "No! No, she's... Look at her! Alicia, please. Please!"

Desperation colors her voice. It scares me, since fear might just be the worst possible counselor right now, but most of all it breaks my heart.

I step closer towards her, warily, and take her trembling hand in mine. When I slowly lead it away from Clarke, I watch how the other one clings to the handle of the knife - her knuckles white from squeezing.

"Clarke is fine," I try to reassure her again. "Trust me. She won't hurt any of us. She—"

"She's infected," Mom keeps insisting. "She knows she is and yet she didn't tell anyone. She's willingly bringing us all in danger." She turns to me, though making sure to keep Clarke within her eyesight. "She's bringing..." She swallows when her voice falters. "She's bringing you in danger."

"I'm not," Clarke quietly speaks up. I can tell she's trying to sound as calm as possible. "Madison, I'm not infected. I swear. And I would never ever put—"

"Shut up!" Mom's sudden outburst makes us all jump. She doesn't seem to notice, or care. "Just... shut up. I don't know what your deal is, and I'm sorry you got bitten, but I can't have you here. Not with Jaime. And definitely not with my daughter."

Not giving it a second thought I step between the two of them before things get out of hand. I can see the terror in Mom's eyes, which I hate since there's absolute no reason for it, but right now my biggest concern is with Clarke. She may not be fully aware of it, but if she hesitates too long—or worse, unintentionally provokes her—Mom could actually strike. Yet I can't have her to obey either.

I can't let her go.

"Alright," Clarke answers from behind me. "If that's what you need, I will go. Madi and I can stay in Coalport for the night."

"No!" I exclaim, louder than intended. "Mom, you have to listen to me. Clarke did not got bitten. She got protected. The blackness of her blood is a result of a vaccine that actually prevents her from turning."

Mom narrows her eyes, which are now turned alternately on me and Clarke. Despite me blocking the way, she's still holding up the knife in a very alarming way.

"She told you that?"

I shake my head. "She didn't had to. I was there."

Cautiously lifting my hand I reach out again, though this time for the knife. I know she won't let go of it, so instead of trying to take it from her, I lightly run the tip of my finger against the sharp edge. When I pull back black drops of blood appear. "See?"

Holding my hand in hers Mom takes a closer look, though carefully making sure not to actually touch any of the black liquid.

"I-I don't understand," she mumbles.

"It's difficult to explain," I admit. "I want to, I do. But it's a lot. And it's been such a long day. Can't you just... can't you trust me on this?"

This time she's the one shaking her head, sighing, "You're asking too much of me."

I softly exhale, and I can feel my shoulders drop in sorrow.

"I know. But I'm doing so anyway. You told me just an hour ago that you trust my judgement. This is how you show me that you do. I know that's a lot, but it's what I need right now. I promise I'll tell you everything. Soon. Just... not now."

Mom doesn't answer me. Instead her gaze moves back to Clarke, and then up, to Madi - who's still sitting on the upper bed. She might just look like an innocent and harmless kid to Mom, but I know she's in warrior mode, ready to jump Mom's back as soon as she feels like either of us needs her protection.

"You too?" Mom asks her.

Madi just nods.

"How about Victor?"

"He didn't get the vaccine," Clarke answers before I can, sounding controlled as ever. "He knows about it though."

Heaving another long sigh, Mom focuses on me again. The intense way she studies me with unsettles me. Her sudden quietness doesn't help.

"Mom?"

She tilts her head, drawing a deep line between her brows as she frowns at me. "Are you still you?"

Her question hits me like cold wind on a summer day.

"W-What do you mean?"

Finally lowering the knife, she raises her other hand, running her fingers through her hair. "I don't know. I'm just..." She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"That makes two of us," I murmur.

"I know it's been years, and there's a lot to learn about each other, about all we've been through, but this—" She briefly points the knife at each of us, before drawing an invisible circle in the air, "This might be something I can never wrap my head around. And to trust something I don't understand..."

She doesn't finish her sentence, and when no one else speaks up it's Clarke who breaks the heavy silence.

"I know how you're feeling. I once stood where you are now. Sometimes I feel I still do." Taking the smallest step forward, she reaches for my hand, entwining our fingers, before moving on. "You don't know us. But you know Alicia. You do. And you know she's worth your trust."

Without turning my head I know Clarke and Mom are eye to eye now, almost as if playing a blinking game. Finally, after what feels like forever, Mom shortly nods at her. She then turns back to me.

"You swear you're not infected?"

My "I do!" comes out as a sigh of relief.

"And you will tell me everything?"

"I will, I promise," I nod, even though I'm less sure about the everything part.

"Alright, then you can stay," Mom says, before casting a last glance at Clarke and Madi. "All of you."

Showing Mom an almost polite smile, Clarke swiftly thanks her.

"Don't thank me yet," Mom shortly replies, "We will talk tomorrow. Be sure of that."

And with that she turns around and leaves the cabin. As soon as the door closes behind her, I catch the hollow sound of a click. She locked the door.

My own mother doesn't trust me. And why should she?

"Hey," Clarke quietly speaks up. "You okay?"

I deeply inhale, then look at her.

"Yeah," I nod, closing our distance in the sudden need to hold her tight. "We're all still here. We're still together." With her arms strongly wrapped around me, I stretch out mine, searching for Madi's hand. When I find it, I give it a squeeze. "That's all that matters."

"Any idea what you're gonna tell her?" Clarke asks. She lets go of me, which I hate, but when she leads me towards our small bed I've never felt more grateful.

"No idea," I answer truthfully as I crawl underneath the sheet. "But I've got all night to think about it."

I don't though. Today has simply been too long - too exhausting.

Too much.

As soon as I find myself in Clarke's arms, my head resting on her chest, my eyes drop with tiredness and refuse to open again.

Am I still me? I honestly don't know. I know I have become part of us though. And there's nothing or no one in this world who can make me give up on that.

And with that one thought in mind I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

... ...

Chapter Text

131 YEARS AGO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's the easiest promise ever."

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

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

"I like that," she hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know I can't."

"Then kiss me instead."

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

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

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

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

"I know," she just says this time.

"Will you wait for me?"

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

... ...

TODAY

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

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

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

This morning is no different.

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

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

"Madison?" I quietly ask through the door.

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

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

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

"Is she alright?" Madison asks.

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

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

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

"Come. I made coffee."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hm. Sounds rather privileged to me."

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

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

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

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

"How young were you during all that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

She raises her brow. "With any success?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's Lexa.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"South," Madison shrugs.

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

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

"What's south?" I ask them.

Letting go of het daughter's hands, Madison turns to me. "Your mother," she simply answers. "And some vaccines that might keep us alive."

... ...

Chapter Text

"And that's what brought us back here, to this area. You see, when my mother has got an idea in her head, there's no stopping her. Besides, it really does make sense that she wants the same protection we have," I finish my report about the last five or so weeks.

Jesus looks at me in this way I still can't read.

"Why Hilltop?" he asks, "I don't imagine you've come all this way just to walk Victor home?"

I shake my head. "No, there's a little more to it. We agreed to bring them to Abby, Clarke's mother, but I can't come with them. I can't be seen by anyone there, as we made Wonkru believe that I died."

"And?" Tilting his head, he narrows his eyes on me.

"And there's also the fact of my mother not knowing about Lexa, and all that comes with it."

He nods, slowly, as he's letting my story sink in.

"So you want to take shelter here? While Clarke takes your mother... up there?"

"Well, I hope for them they don't actually have to go up anywhere," I chuckle unintentionally, thinking back of my own close-to-terrifying launch experience, "But yes, that's why I came to see you. To ask for your help - once again. Which I know isn't fair. Especially since..."

I stop myself, but he already got where I was going. "Since you destroyed the Flame," he completes my sentence.

Jesus knows I'm no longer in command, in fact he's the one who came up with the solution that freed me from that duty. But he is unaware of the actual truth. He has no clue that I was never really back. That it wasn't me who got the Flame from Madi, as it went to Raven and her research. That I deceived him, and that I'm still doing so by letting him believe the Flame is gone.

"I'm no longer your Heda," I admit, "Yet even if I were, you have every right not to help me. To send me away."

He stays quiet for a moment, his icy blue eyes examining me thoroughly while his face is pensive, almost wistful. When he exhales, averting his eyes to overlook the field in front of the porch we're sitting on, I feel like I can hear the sorrow in his breath.

"I tried, you know."

I frown, not understanding. "Tried what?"

"To forgive you," he sighs, before looking at me again.

I know he's no longer that eleven year old boy I once knew. I know he doesn't need my care, or my concern. He doesn't need anything from me, nor from anyone else. He's a grown man now, a strong and competent one. Yet seeing him like this, I have to fight the urge to comfort him, to rest my hand on top of his and call him Aden - my sweet Aden.

"Oh Jesus," I mumble instead, "I'm not asking you for any forgiveness."

"Now that I've had some time to think things over, I'm starting to see it," he goes on, as if he hasn't heard me. "How you and I were the same. That I can't blame it all on you, as you were tricked into it just like I was. Yet still... still I can't get over the fact that you didn't stop it. While you were... you were changing. As young as I was, I could tell. You were already different from the others, and then, those last few months of your life you were..."

"I was what?" I ask when he stays quiet.

He shrugs. "I don't know. You just seemed to look at things differently. Letting go of old believes, and starting to think and decide for yourself. Makes me wonder if you would have ended the conclave tradition if you'd got the chance... if you'd got to live just a little bit longer."

I swallow. I've never thought of it this way, even though I've spent quite some time overthinking my past, but I know he's not wrong. I was changing. I was approaching things elsewise. In a way that started to feel like a thread to those around me. That got me killed, eventually.

"There's really no way of telling," I answer him. Of course it would be easier to just agree, to tell him I was this close to sending them all home, back to their families. But I don't. I wouldn't want him to think I'm trying to win him over, especially not with false claims or sentiment. "All I can say is that I'm really, really sorry for taking so much from you. Your parents, your childhood... your life. If I could, I'd give it all back to you. Even if that meant giving you mine."

"I believe you would," he nods. "That would be the easy way though, wouldn't it?"

"You'd rather want me to live with it?"

"Can you blame me?"

"No," I shake my head again, "I get it. To be honest, I envy you. At least you have someone to be angry with, someone you can hold accountable for all that happened to you. I'm not gonna take that away from you."

Jesus runs his fingers through his long hair. "Actually, I'm still trying to figure out whether I want you as a punching bag or as a confidante."

"I have no problem with being both," I warily smile at him, "But I wouldn't want you to feel like you need me for the latter. I might be wrong, but I think I just saw Magna near those trailers. You know you can talk to her too, right?"

Following my gaze to the group of trailers in the far back, he nods once more. "She and Yumiko rejoined their group after our trip to Alexandria. But we haven't spoken. Not about this."

I raise my brow. "Is there anything holding you back?"

"No, not specifically. It's just... we never met, back then. There's no connection between us, we don't share anything."

"Well, I don't know about that. I can imagine some shared feelings about the conclave, to start with," I try, but like before I'm not sure if he's hearing me. His mind seems to be elsewhere already.

"Jesus?"

"You know what I find most confusing?"

He's still staring into the distance, his hand now mindlessly stroking his beard. Something tells me he's not expecting an answer, which proves to be true when he goes on like I'm not even there.

"The fact that I—Jesus—wouldn't be here if I—Aden—had survived. If I had lived, long enough to escape, to join those Grounders that made it here, that are staying in these woods as we speak..."

I want to tell him that it wouldn't have made a difference. That in the end only a handful of people made it to Octavia's bunker, and even less of them to the space station after the earth got destroyed by the Damocles bomb, as Clarke has taught me. But I bite my tongue, aware that it doesn't matter. Or worse, that all that would justify his young death, in a you-would-have-died-anyway kind of clincher.

"You ever thought of that?" he asks me, suddenly turning towards me again. "You ever realized that Lexa had to die for Alicia to be able to exist?"

I swallow, taken aback by his sudden question. "I... I haven't," I admit truthfully.

"You see, the thing is, I really like this me. And despite this world being as fucked up as it is, I would lie if I said I wouldn't like this life. Wouldn't have want to miss any of it. But does that mean it's been all for the better? Should I be grateful, even?!"

As his eyes pierce deeply into mine, I feel a wave of turmoil washing over me, drowning me in a pool of stupefaction.

Perplexed as I am, I can only stammer. "N-No?"

"Of course not!" he exclaims, "I was robbed! We were robbed - you, me, all of us! Who knows how great our lives could have become? How great we could have become?!"

I open my mouth, about to speak up, even though I have no clue what to say, but he's already ahead of me.

"That's what they took from us," he points out - literally, as he swiftly shoots forward, his finger only ten inches from my face, "The chance for us to find out. To see for ourselves if this new life is indeed some sort of improvement, something worth dying for."

Still lost for words I blink, hoping I can at least break his stare. I'm not sure if he's even aware of it, as he already sits back, suddenly looking all relaxed again and sounding strangely calm when he continues, "Then again, I do really like this new me. So there you go. I got stuck. You got me stuck."

"I'm sorry," I finally manage to say, "I don't know what else to tell you. Or how to answer any of your questions."

He waves my apologies away. "They don't really matter, it's just—"

"No, they do. They matter. They are fair, and I can see how they confuse you. How my return not only reminded and angered you, but also messed with your reality."

Jesus gets up. Resting his palms on the railing, he watches over the compound again, his back turned towards me.

"I can't let you stay here," he says. "Not for the long term. You are all welcome for some days, get your rest after your long trip and sort that stuff out with your mother, but after that I need you to go." He turns towards me. "I don't think my mind will ever find peace again if you don't."

I nod, understanding that this is about so much more than rage and revanche.

"Thank you. And believe me, a few days is all I'm asking for. If there's anyone who wants to get away from here as soon as possible, it's me. I feel like I'm staying in Wonkru's backyard. That even the slightest gust of wind can alarm them and lead them straight to me."

"Oh, if anyone is staying in someone's backyard, it's them!" he sets me straight, "But I get what you mean. You'd better stay within these walls until your family gets back."

My family. I like the sound of that.

Jesus already goes on. "You see that row of sheds over there? I had your people set up their tents right behind them. You're gonna have to squeeze yourself in there with them, since we're still fully booked. Hope that won't be a problem."

"It's not," I quickly tell him, before he can change his mind about his offer. I'm not completely sure though. Convincing Jesus to let us in might have seemed my biggest challenge for today, but I know very well I'm just getting started.

"Alright, then I'll let you be," he shrugs. "I'm sure your friends are waiting for you."

Not waiting for any reaction from me, he spins on his heels and steps down the porch steps. When his foot touches the ground, I call after him. Stopping in his tracks, he looks over his shoulder, his eyes questioning.

"You wouldn't have become great," I tell him. "You would have become exceptional. You already were."

... ...

Before going back to get the others, I make my way to the small wooden buildings Jesus just pointed at. I catch them as soon as I walk around the corner. Lucy, June, John, Morgan, Charlie, Sarah, Wendell and Strand - the latter being right in the middle of, what I assume, one of our most recent travelogues. The only one missing is Al, but Strand already informed me how she decided to stay in Oceanside.

They all speed towards me the moment they spot me too, embracing me one by one and cheering how good it is to see me again and asking me if I'm okay and berating me for leaving the way I did, which I can't blame them for.

I also can't describe how good it is to see all of them again, and not just because it's been three months. I want to ask them how they're all doing and what they've been up to, but I don't get the chance - not just yet.

"Is it true? Is she here?"

Her voice is thin. Unsure. Nothing like I've known for the last couple of years. It's reminding me of the young, scared girl she once used to be. The eleven year old who shot my brother.

I nod, just once. "Yes."

"Is she... Is she angry?"

"What do you think, Charlie?"

Biting her lip, she lowers her gaze. When she stays quiet, I step closer towards her, while everyone else moves away, as if on cue, and well aware of the sudden heaviness that's fallen upon us.

I sigh. "Listen, there's no avoiding here. You're gonna have to face her. But I won't let you do it alone."

She looks up again, with fear crossing her face. "Right now?"

"Right now," I nod once more, "Better get it over with."

She follows me, her head hanging low, and her hair covering most of her face. In all these years she never forgot what she did. For one, because I was there to always remind her, but also because she truly acknowledged and carried her guilt, without excusing or forgiving herself for it. And even after all this time she's not walking away for the consequences. It's a strange sensation, but I can't deny to feel kind of proud of her for that.

Right before we reach the heavy doors, I turn towards her.

"Hey," I say, making her look at me again. "She's my mother, and I want her with me, but I won't let her hurt you. We're not getting back in here before we've settled this, before I'm sure you are as safe as any of us."

Though still looking defeated, she manages to smile at me. "We both know you can't guarantee that," she says.

Not wanting to lie, I take a deep breath instead. "Come on," I just answer.

... ...

They're waiting for us outside the gate, their faces lighting up with expectation as soon as they note me.

"We're in," I tell them from a short distance as we walk towards them. "Clarke, can you take Madi and Jaime with you? You can find Strand and the others on the far left."

"Sure," she nods. Her eyes briefly dart between me and Charlie, who's partly hidden behind me - whether on purpose or not. She doesn't ask any questions. She knows enough already. I can see it in her eyes. Feel it when her hand briefly strokes against mine while she passes me.

Just like me, Mom watches them head to the gate; Madi guiding Jaime by lightly holding on to his arm. Once they're out of sight, she turns back to me.

"What's going on?"

I step aside.

As soon as she sees Charlie, actually sees her, Mom's expression changes dramatically. There's no doubt she recognizes her, even though Charlie grew up quite a bit, or that she's forgotten my disclosure about her and Nick a few weeks back.

She's staring right in the eyes of her son's killer, and she knows it.

Mom doesn't move. Doesn't even blink. "You..." she breathes.

Charlie seems as frozen. I can tell that she's forcing herself not to look away. She doesn't say anything though.

"What?" Mom comes at her, her voice harsh and trembling, "You lost your voice?"

Charlie swallows nervously. "I... I don't know what to say."

Mom takes a step closer towards us. "You murdered my boy. You might want to start with telling me why."

I move my eyes from her to Charlie, who stays quiet once again, then quickly look back at Mom.

"Charlie, tell me why!" she demands again, her voice now raised and filled with despair, making Charlie cringe.

"I... I..." As she searches for words, her lip quivers. "I don't know. I thought that I had to. After he... he'd shot my..." Slumping her shoulders, she shakes her head. "I was just a child. Such a stupid child. I was wrong, of course. And I'm so sorry. So sorry."

"Sorry doesn't bring my son back," Mom growls through her teeth, and then, suddenly at me, "Why is she still here?"

I inhale and square myself up against her. It's my turn now.

"She's still here, because I chose to. I chose to let her live," I answer. "I made that decision a long time ago. And I need you to accept that."

She squints her eyes. "You let her get away with it? Without any punishment?"

"You think this isn't punishment? Believe me, Mom, it is. I know it is!" Mom tilts her head, looking skeptical as well as riddled, but I already go on. "I made her feel it. I made her live with it. Every day. By keeping her around me, around us, I'm certain she has to. I'm a hundred percent sure there's not a single moment that Nick gets to be forgotten."

"And I have to be thankful for that?" Mom questions, "I just have to be glad that he is remembered? While he could have lived!?" Agitated, she starts to pace around, which I'm fine with, for at least she's not attacking Charlie any longer.

"I'm not saying that, I would never tell you how you should feel. But Mom—"

"Ever thought of what Nick would have wanted?" She stands still, right in front of me. "Ever thought of that, Alicia?"

We're eye to eye, but I don't feel intimidated by her glare. It's not that I don't feel for her - after all, she's got a lot to process in just a few minutes that once took me years. But I need her to know that this is not all about Nick. Not anymore.

"Mom, I need... I need you to see it," I tell her. I take her hands in mine and squeeze them real tight. "I need you to understand that this isn't about Nick. Or Charlie. This is about me. With the choice I made, I could let go. I could move on. You might think you wanted me to handle things differently, but the truth is that I'm still here because she is too. I'm still me, because I chose not to become someone I'm not. Someone you honestly wouldn't want me to be."

Mom exhales, and with it I can feel her tension decrease.

"And for what it's worth," I quietly go on, "I believe Nick would have wanted exactly that. Not just for Charlie to get a second chance. But most of all for me to stay me."

Slowly shaking her head, Mom takes another deep breath, then frees her hand from mine and cups my cheek. When our eyes lock, I can tell the pain is still very much there, but I also spot the understanding I was searching for. Maybe even the acceptance.

Without letting go off me, she looks over my shoulder, at Charlie.

"You're lucky she was there," she tells her, "And that I wasn't."

"I know," Charlie mumbles.

I look at her, before I turn back to Mom.

"Again, I'm not telling you how to feel about all this, but I am asking you to respect the way things are now. Which includes accepting Charlie as being a part of us, and not hurting her at any given moment."

Mom steps aside, towards Charlie, closely seizing her up once again.

"Mom? You have to promise. Otherwise—"

"I promise I will never forgive you," she tells Charlie without taking her eyes off her. "But I won't hurt you. That, I will promise you, too."

... ...

Chapter Text

Hilltop looks different than Alexandria, but it comes with a similar vibe. As soon as we walk through those gates, I can feel it. How this is a safe place, in many ways. How it comes with people who look after themselves and each other.

It's not just about the walls. It's about what's behind them.

Followed by Madi and Jaime, I start to make my way in the appointed direction. Despite the fact that they stay a little behind, I can hear how Madi tries to describe our surroundings to her new companion.

"Opposite to the gate, towards the rear, is a large house," she tells him. "Clarke, what's it called again?"

"A mansion," I answer her over my shoulder, unable to suppress my proud smile.

"Right," she goes on, "A mansion. It's three stories high, with some steps to the front door and a balcony above it. To our right is a line of trailers, where people seem to live. From here I count six of them. To our left, behind some sheds and huts, is a water tower. They've also got some crops growing, just like outside the walls. Here, feel this, it's the fence that indicates the edge of the field."

I let them be, let her tell him about every detail on our way, yet when I notice I'm about to get out of earshot I stop and turn around. They're standing still again, about thirty feet behind me, next to a horse stable. We're in no hurry, but I'm about to call them anyway, as they can do more exploring later on, when I'm being called myself.

"Clarke?" I hear from a distance, "Is that you?"

I look to my right, expecting to see one of Lexa's—or in this case Alicia's—people. Yet to my surprise it's someone else, although still a familiar face.

"Magna!" I cheer, genuinely happy to see her.

"Look at you," Magna grins as she gets closer, "Back on both feet!"

By pointing out my recovery, I realize I haven't seen her since that day I broke my leg. Which feels like yesterday, but just as well like a lifetime ago - so much has happened since.

"Time heals all wounds," I smile, right before we briefly embrace. When she lets go of me, she raises her brows.

"Does it?"

Still sharp as a pencil. I pull a face—something in the line of "Okay, moving on..."—and Magna helps me out by actually doing so.

"How'd you get here?" she asks, "And don't say by walking - though I'm happy you can actually do that again!"

"It's a long story. Not all bad though. If you don't mind, I'll tell you another time."

"Sure," she shrugs, casual and carefree. "So, where's your other half?"

Subconsciously I glare at the gate, then back at her. "She's on her way."

Her bright smile quickly dissolves, only to be replaced by a concerning frown. She tilts her head. "She's alright though?"

"Oh yes, she's fine. Really," I nod, though highly aware I can't leave it like this. I step a little closer towards her and lower my voice, even though Jaime and Madi are still distracted by those horses. "She's just... She's not... She's not Heda anymore."

Magna stays quiet for a second, then takes me by surprise by simply shrugging her shoulders again.

"Good for her," she just says.

"Yeah," I agree, nodding some more, "It really seems so."

She crosses her arms. Though I do believe she's okay with the subject, I can tell talking about it still comes with at least some discomfort. "So who's the unlucky bastard who's got to deal with it now? With the Flame, I mean?" she asks.

"That would be Raven," I tell her, and then quickly, as I catch a look of shock crossing her face, "No, not like that! We gave it to her for research. She's keeping it, not carrying it."

Before I know it Magna smacks me on the arm, a little harder than necessary, yelling, "Christ! Don't ever scare me like that again, will you!"

I raise my hands, quickly apologizing, when Madi and Jaime join us. "Everything okay here?" Madi asks, already in the highest state of alert.

Magna turns towards her and flashes her a wide grin. "Hey Madi, good to see you again. We're all good - except for the minor heart attack Clarke just gave me," she winks. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is Jaime," Madi answers, as she rests her hand on the boy's arm again, "Jaime, this is Magna. She's a friend of ours."

Magna smiles at him, even though he can't see it. "Welcome," she says, now looking at all three of us. "I'm glad you finally managed to get in."

"Me too," I agree wholeheartedly. "Though it's just for a few days. Like I said, long story. We'll catch up soon, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course," Magna nods. "Any time. Miko and I are staying over there, in that greyish trailer. Come find me when it suits you."

I promise her that I will and turn around, about to continue my way to the tents, but Madi's voice stops me in my tracks. When I look over my shoulder, curious to find out what stopped them, I see how she gently pulls Jaime's arm to make him follow us. He's not moving though.

"Jaime, come on," she tries once more, but he seems too distracted, too focused on something else to hear or answer her.

It's hard to tell because of his dark sunglasses, but it looks like he's staring - that is, if he would be able to. His gaze is on Magna, who's visibly uncomfortable by it. She doesn't move away though.

"Can I... help you with anything?" she asks when he stays still.

Jaime doesn't say anything. Instead he takes a step forward, followed by a second one. The moment he can tell she's within his reach, he slowly lifts his hand and moves it towards her face. I know what he's doing, I know that this is his way to get a picture of what she must look like. He did it to us, too, the day after we met. Although with us, he did ask first.

Knowing Magna a little by now, I have to admit it amazes me that she doesn't smack him to the ground. She doesn't even step back. She just stares back at him, in this flabbergasted kind of way. Maybe she knows what he's doing? Or maybe she's just stunned.

"Come on, man. They're waiting for us," I try, but it's like we're not even here.

All he can see, in his way, is Magna.

"I'm not sorry," he finally speaks up, though in the softest way. "I'm not. You have to believe me."

Magna looks more confused by the minute - and I can't blame her. "Sorry? Sorry for what?" she frowns, "What did you do?"

"I would have lost anyway. At least you still got a chance," he goes on, his voice almost hypnotic now. "Did you take it? Did you win?"

Opening her mouth again, Magna starts stammering, although no actual words come out.

Jaime's fingertips keep exploring her face, gentle and with precision. He traces her cheek bones, the sharp lines of her jaws, the bridge of her nose.

"You've grown up," he states, a hint of marvel in his voice.

With a shaky breath, Magna exhales the air from her lungs and retracts her head; swiftly, as if she finally knows how to move again.

As he lowers his hands, she moves hers up towards his face, just like he just did. Yet instead of touching it, she takes off his sunglasses. She narrows her eyes, searching for clues, but his dull, white eyes lost all personality they once might have had. If she's looking for any recognition, she won't find it in there. And he knows it.

"Close your eyes," Jaime tells her, "Watch with your heart."

Yet too astonished by the thought, by the possibility alone, she can't. She simply can't look away from him.

"No," she breathes. "There's no..."

"I guess I got a little older, too," he shrugs, and I swear I can actually hear amusement in his voice.

Magna doesn't share it. All she can do is stare at him, shaking her head in disbelieve. I've never seen her this confounded, which is why I step closer to her, come to her aid, despite the doubt that it may be useful, or even smart.

"Magna?" I warily ask, "What's going on?"

She turns to me, rather abruptly. Her eyes look bewildered.

"Is this a joke? Is this some kind of sick..." She doesn't finish, reading our shared confusion on my face for what it is. After taking a deep breath, she continues, slightly calmer, "Is he— Are you guys saying you found my... my..."

I shake my head. "No. No, I'm not saying anything. I have no clue what's going on."

But her eyes aren't on me anymore, they're already back on Jaime, and when she suddenly grabs his cap off, swipes his long curls away from his face and lifts his chin for further inspection, I fall quiet all together.

He lets it happen. He just stands there when she moves even closer, when she studies every square inch of his face, until she can no longer hold that one question inside her, that one name that she has always carried with her.

The name of her little brother.

... ...

Chapter Text

He was ten years old. A rather short boy, still waiting for his growth spurt. Not really muscled yet either. His skin was lighter than any of the other Nightbloods, almost pale. Unlike most of us, he actually enjoyed the classroom. He had messy, bronze brown hair—the impossible kind, just like mine—and thick, full brows. Though often quiet, he was always easy to read as his clear hazel-brown eyes spoke for him. He was ten years old when I last saw him.

He was ten years old when he died.

This boy in front of me is about to be a man. He's tall, almost as tall as I am. I'm honestly not sure if I'd win a fist fight against him. He's got a strong jaw, and when he talks I catch a glimpse of his Adam's apple moving in his throat. His voice is quite deep, though it cracks a few times, telling me he's really only halfway there.

His tanned complexion shows an outdoor lifestyle - not necessarily by choice, but forced by the world we live in. Years of sun made his freckles stand out. He looks healthy, except for his white, empty eyes.

This boy and my baby brother, they don't look anything alike.

Except that they do. Despite all the differences, they do.

When I finally manage to find my voice, it sounds like somebody else's.

"Phoenix?" 

His smile grows, showing a single dimple at the corner of his mouth. "Heya, sis."

"I can't believe it," I breathe, still frozen to the ground.

"That makes two of us," he titters. If this is really him, and he found out just now, then he's handling this revelation a whole lot better than I did!

I clear my throat. "You're really him?"

He tilts his head, an amused grin lingering on his lips. "You're really her?"

A deep sigh escapes me. For the first time I don't think I mind the truth. In fact, I think I'm about to embrace it. I nod, then realize he can't see that. "Yes," I say with conviction, "I really am."

He exhales, almost ecstatically.

"Luna..."

He says my name like he's tasting it.

His calmness confuses me. Shouldn't he be more upset? Or baffled? Yet right when I'm about to ask him, he goes on already.

"Have you always known?"

"No," I answer him, "I just found out a few months back, when Clarke and—"

Clarke. As soon as I say her name, I remember she's actually here. I turn towards her.

"You did find him."

She shakes her head, her face still perplexed. "I had no idea."

"How about Lexa?" I go on, "She didn't recognize him?"

"You didn't recognize him," Clarke points out. "Why should she?"

"Lexa..." Phoenix draws out her name, like he'd just done with mine. "Yes... Yes! She's been with us, hasn't she? She goes by Alicia now, but once she was..." He falls quiet mid-sentence, brusquely grabbing me by the arm, making sure he's got my attention. "You two were next. At the conclave, after our duel, she was the next one you had to fight. One of you died then, one of you killed the other. And now you're both here again. Is that why we came here? Is she searching revenge?"

Clarke steps closer to him. Her approach is cautious, yet when she gently rests her hand on his shoulder, he jerks his head towards her as soon as she touches him.

He's frightened. Frightened, and alarmed.

Where he first seemed unaffected—heck: almost entertained—by the prompt awareness of his former life, he now seems to realize it doesn't come without any danger. At least not for me.

Noting his sudden tension, Clarke quickly pulls her hand away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she tells him, "I didn't want to spook you. Anything but! You just... you don't have to worry. About Lexa, I mean. She means you no harm. Neither of you."

"She's not just our friend," Madi nods from a short distance, "She's yours, too. You can trust her."

"They are right, Phi," I say, making him turn back to me. "Lexa never became my enemy. We didn't fight."

He frowns, not following. "Like us?"

As I shake my head again, it gets through to me that that's a habit I need to kick. "No, not like us."

"Wait," Clarke speaks up, "Didn't you face each other? I thought you..." She coughs, seemingly hesitant whether and how to continue. "I thought you killed your brother?"

I glance at Phoenix, which he somehow must sense, as he nods at me and says, "It's okay. You can tell them."

"No. I promised you I wouldn't. I promised I would never."

"And I can tell you haven't," he smiles softly, "But I only made you promise that to keep you safe. We're passed that now. I reckon in this world nobody cares."

I take a deep breath, swallow, then turn to Clarke and Madi again. "I didn't kill Phoenix," I confess, "He killed himself."

Clarke's mouth falls open in surprise. "H-He... But how?!"

"He poisoned himself. Atropa Belladonna."

"Deadly Nightshade," she mumbles.

I nod. "Yep. Took a handful of berries."

"Mostly roots, actually," Phoenix corrects me, while I already continue.

"Of course he forgot to tell me about it..."

"You would have stopped me," he shrugs.

"Of course I would!" I exclaim, "You were ten years old. Ten! It was my job to protect you, not to watch you die."

He reaches his hand out to me, finding mine without much difficulty. "We both know I would have died anyway. I just hope it worked. Please tell me it wasn't for nothing. Tell me you got away with it."

When I stay quiet, Madi steps forward - closing our little circle.

"Magna," she quietly asks, "What happened that day?"

As I slowly allow the memory back in, the one I suppressed for so many years, I swallow again. And then I start to tell. For the first time in my life, I share the truth.

"We met in the middle of the arena. When I watched Phoenix walk towards me, I noticed his tread being a bit wavering. It didn't really alarm me, as I figured he was just anxious. But when we actually stood opposed each other, when I could look him in the eyes, I knew something was wrong. Not just because his pupils were clearly dilated, but because there was this... this calm in them. It's okay, Bella Donna, he quietly told me, I already did it. I already killed myself. I just haven't died yet. Of course I had no clue what he was talking about. Don't forget I was only thirteen myself. Three seconds later we were told to get ready. He barely could though, he could hardly lift his sword. My body is giving up, he told me right when the bell rang. Just punch me down. Punch me, overpower me, and when you catch me taking my last breath... I told him no, but he kept insisting. They can never know, he whispered to me, If they know we broke the rules... He couldn't finish, and when his knees buckled I knew I had no choice. I pushed him over. No one seemed surprised it went that easy. After all, he was just a little kid. I knelt down, hovered over him to block their view and... and watched how the last air left his lungs. And then I did what he'd ask me to, what he expected from me. I promised him not to tell... and pierced his heart."

As I finish our story his hand is still holding mine, squeezing real hard. Or is that me?

"I'm sorry," I tell him, wiping my tears away with my other hand. "I'm so sorry I hurt you."

"But you didn't," he says.

And then he steps in and embraces me - finally and as tight as possible. And in that moment it doesn't matter that he's become this tall. In that moment he's that little kid again who still needs a lot of growing up to do. My little brother, who saved me.

When we let go of each other, I step away a few inches and look into his eyes. I hate that they don't look back at me.

"Your eyes," I sigh, fighting another lump, "It was the poison, wasn't it? I know how Nightshade can hurt the eyes, how it causes blindness sometimes. If you hadn't—"

"No, no," Phoenix stops me. His hand reaches for me again, but this time it's not mine he's looking for. I hand him his dark glasses. Putting them back on, he continues, "I used to have perfect vision. Until this accident, when I was three years old. A big blow to my head literally beat the light out of me. It's okay though. I'm okay." He pulls up his sleeve to show his biceps, smiling broadly at me with this goofy, proud grin. "I'm strong now."

I can't help but laugh. "You sure are," I chuckle. "I bet we can really use you here. You're staying, won't you?"

"Um, about that," Clarke cuts in, sharply reminding me of her presence, "I know I have no say here, but things are not that simple."

I look at her, but her eyes are not on me. She's watching the gate - nervously, as it seems.

"You're right, this isn't any of your business," I agree, forcing myself not to snap at her. Shouldn't she be one of the few who understands?

"It's just... we didn't just find your brother, as it turned out. We also found Alicia's mother. They can walk through those gates any second now. And she doesn't know. She can't know any of this."

I blink. Is she for real?

"You're saying I have to pretend I don't know my own brother? I have to step away from you all... just like that?!"

"N-No," she stammers. "Or... yeah, maybe? Just for now? Till we have a plan to figure this out?"

A loud snort of indignation escapes me. "You're out of your mind!"

"Clarke..." Tapping Clarke's arm, Madi draws her attention away from me and points at the gate. "They're here."

Following their gazes I look over my shoulder, right when Lexa walks into Hilltop, together with this girl I know is part of her group and an unknown woman who I assume must be her mother. Or well, Alicia's mother.

"Please," Clarke pleads again, "I know we've already asked so much of you. But we really need you with this, the both of you."

I shake my head. "You haven't changed at all, have you? Always asking for more. Always taking things one step too far."

"I'm not asking for me, I'm asking for—"

"Lexa," I sigh. "I know. Clarke and her people. You seriously never grow tired of that?"

She doesn't bite. Instead she just persistently goes on, with her eyes already back on the approaching group, "It's not just my people. How about Yumiko? Don't you need some time to talk to her?"

"You let me worry about Miko, okay!" I snarl, really on the verge of losing my patience by now.

Her eyes flash to me, just briefly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to overstep."

"Of course not. You never do. Mean to, that is..."

I peek behind me again. They are about five seconds away from us. Ten at most.

After another deep breath, I turn to my new found brother.

"What do you think, Phi?"

He doesn't get the chance to answer however, as Lexa is already joining us - the other two following in her footsteps.

"Hey," she says, her eyes swiftly going from one to another, "What's going on here?"

... ...

Chapter Text

The sound of my voice makes Jaime turn on his heels to face me. Is it possible that he looks... different? Not bad different, but... like he's more present. More whole... somehow. Or is it just me? Am I actually seeing him, the real him, after—maybe—never paying that much attention to him until now?

I don't get the chance to ponder on it.

"You're not gonna believe this," he answers me before anyone else can. "I found my sister!"

"Your... your sister?"

Stunned, I look from him to the others, until my gaze gets stuck on Magna. As I can't imagine this to be about either Clarke or Madi, he must be talking about her. "You're his sister?!"

"Small world, huh?" she shrugs.

There's a ghost of a smile lingering on her lips, but I also spot something defiant in her eyes, which seem darker than usual. For some reason I don't get, she doesn't look thrilled or amused.

This is not a happy family reunion. There's more to this story.

"I don't understand." Mom brushes past me, laying her hand on his shoulder. "You never told me you had a sister."

"It took you three weeks to open up about your family," he simply answers her, yet without any judgment in his voice. The way he shrugs his shoulders isn't just nonchalant, there's also something faintly familiar in it. It struck me before, somewhere subconsciously, but it isn't until now that I realize Magna just did so in the exact same manner. She has done so for as long as I can remember.

Something clicks. Wait, who are we talking about here?

My eyes flash to my left, finding Clarke's straight away, as if she's been waiting for me. For my penny to drop. She nods, subtly, then articulates without a sound: "Lu-na."

Crap.

Mom, of course, has no idea about this sudden awareness - and the rising nerves that come with it. She just nods at Jaime, not fighting him on this. Some things are indeed too painful to talk about.

"So I assume you're the sister in question, then?"

She turns to Magna, yet instead of answering her, Magna glances away, over Mom's shoulder, at me. Our eyes lock.

Not knowing what else to do, I shake my head, slow and soundlessly.

I have no doubt that she can read the plea in my eyes. Or, based on the current vibe, that I'm the first one asking her this.

Her gaze stays blank. She's giving me nothing. I have no clue what to expect, or what to do. Nailed to the ground, a helpless feeling floods my veins.

I inhale, about to say who-knows-what, but she already looks back at Mom.

"I am," she answers. Another illegible smile shines through. "And you are?"

Mom steps forward to shake her hand. "Madison," she introduces herself, "Madison Clark."

"Madison Clark," Magna slowly repeats. Returning Mom's handshake, her eyes swiftly move back to me. "It's true then? You found her?" And then, tilting her head with an intrigued look on her face, back at Mom, "You're her mother."

Still standing behind her, I can't see Mom's expression, but I just know she's giving Magna her you-better-believe-it face, most likely combined with her infamous who-the-hell-are-you glare.

Stepping back towards us, she folds her arms across her chest and squares her shoulders, like a hen protecting her chicks. "You two know each other?"

"Yeah, we go far back," Magna replies. There's that shrug again. Whatever is your problem, it ain't mine, it seems to say.

I fleetingly look at Clarke again. She's biting her lips. Whatever is happening, I'm sure she gave her all trying to avoid it.

Surprisingly Mom doesn't ask any further. Or maybe she's just not quick enough. Magna uses their short silence to turn the tables. She tips her chin.

"What's the deal with you and my brother?"

"There's no deal," Mom answers, seemingly unaffected by Magna's stare, "I just look after h—"

"She saved my life," Jaime cuts in. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Madison."

If only he knew it's the other way around.

His words don't miss their effect though. I can see how they help to ease Magna, how they help her to let go - somewhat at least. When she looks back from him to Mom, she exhales.

"That's true?"

This time Mom's the one to shrug.

Magna nods, pensively. "I appreciate that," she says. "I do. Thank you, for taking care of him. You don't have to any longer, though. I think it's clear that he'll stay with me from here on."

Mom cocks her head. "I think it's clear that he's a big boy and that it's really up to him."

They turn towards him in unison. When Magna takes a deep breath, about to question him, I catch myself holding mine. If she calls him Phoenix...

"Jaime?"

I close my eyes, a sigh of relief escaping me.

She's with us. She's still with us.

Jaime clears his throat, drawing my attention back to them again.

"I'm really grateful for all you've done for me, Madison," he smiles at her, "But my sister is right. I want to... I need to stay with her now. She's my family. I'm sure you understand."

When she answers him, her eyes are on me, a warm smile now curling her lips.

"I do."

... ...

"You're sure we can trust her?" Mom asks me as soon as we've parted our way.

I shake my head, laughing. I get that she feels overwhelmed and worried. But I don't share her sentiment - I just feel relieved, light even. "Yes Mom, I'm sure. Magna is cool. A bit feisty, but cool. She saved my ass a few times. I have no doubt she'll make sure to save his, too."

"Still, he's—"

"He's a big boy, just like you said," I cut her off, "Plus he's staying like fifty yards away from us. If it doesn't work out, he'll find his way back to you in like a minute."

We pass the sheds and turn the corner. The moment Mom sees the group of small tents, which we now have to share with twelve people in total, she frowns at me.

"We're not going to stay here, are we?"

"No, we're not," I answer, glad that this poor living arrangement gives me an excuse for not wanting to settle down here. "But it will do for now."

Our chattering makes Strand look up.

"There you are," he grins. "We are just making some rearrangements, reckoning y'all want to share a tent."

I thank him by returning his smile. He isn't wrong. But he isn't totally right either.

Once again we'll be all cramped in there, with no room or privacy whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be more happy about finding Mom, and I can't imagine my life without Madi in it anymore, but I'm starting to get some serious worries about my health if I can't get a moment for myself soon.

Or for ourselves, I should say, glancing at Clarke.

Mom might not even have heard him, as she's already embracing Lucy and June. I'm sure they have a lot of catching up to do, together with some acquaintance-making with everyone else.

Stuff they don't need me for.

Taking off my backpack, I crouch down and hand it to Madi, who's already crawled into the tent to prepare it for the night. I can't tell for sure in this gloomy light, but I think she looks a bit bummed.

"You're okay?" I ask her.

She nods. "Just tired."

Reaching behind me, I take the sleeping bag Clarke is handing me and pass it through. When Madi takes it from me, I ruffle her hair. "Get some rest. That's what we're here for."

I stand up again, right when Mom passes me by. I stop her, resting my hand on her arm.

"I've got one more thing to do," I tell her. "You're alright here?"

"Sure," she nods, "Would make it quick though!" She points at the sky above us, where dark clouds are quickly gathering. "This storm is not gonna wait."

"Don't worry," I say, already turning towards Clarke, "We'll be right back."

Without another word I take the last bag from Clarke's hands, toss it towards the entrance of our tent and grab her hand, leading her to the gate - and ignoring her stammering questions. The second we walk through it, a loud thunderclap roars above us. The lightning that follows right after rips the sky open, and heavy rain begins to pour down.

"Lex, wait... hold on!" Clarke calls from behind me, trying to keep up as I keep dragging her along. "You shouldn't be out here. People might see you."

"Don't worry, this won't take long," I reassure her. Still holding her hand in mine, I halt and turn around.

She watches me through the curtain of rain, awaiting... and slightly intrigued perhaps? As she narrows her eyes, I notice a few raindrops sticking to her lashes.

"What are you talking about?"

I step towards her, take her face in my hands and peck her lips. "Dancing," I wink.

Before she can say anything, I let go of her and spin around on my toes, making a full three-sixty with my arms waving through the air. "We're celebrating."

"By getting soaked?" she frowns, both confused and amused.

I cock my head back and look up above, like I just realized it's raining, then shrug and smirk at her. "Do you mind?"

A snort escapes her. "I might!"

"Alright," I nod, taking her hand again. "Come!"

With my free hand shielding my eyes from the rain, which seems to be getting worse by the minute, I increase my speed, following the now muddy and slithery path along the wall. We make it around the corner without slipping. And there I find it, exactly where we left it three months ago.

Al's good old SWAT truck.

To those who don't know any better the heavy back door might seem locked, but I know it isn't; you just have to know how to open it.

As soon as I've pulled the trick, I help Clarke inside and swiftly follow her. She was right: we are drenched. Thanks to the fact that the windows and shutters are closed, the inside of the truck is not though. Wanting to keep it that way, I reach around her and quickly close the door.

"Better?" I ask.

"Much better," she nods.

It's rather dark in here, but with the little light that's coming through the windscreen I can still see everything I need to. Her laughing eyes. The dimple in her left cheek. Her chest rising and falling from our little run.

Another crash of thunder strikes.

Instinctively Clarke takes a step forward, away from the noise outside, and towards me. She runs her fingers through the tips of my hair, absentmindedly playing with it as her eyes are on mine.

"Now what are we celebrating exactly?"

"Everything!" I grin widely. "Finding my mother. Getting into Hilltop..." I lightly kiss her lips again, just like before, and flash her another smile. "Luna finding her brother..." Kiss. "...without ratting us out." Kiss. "And last but not least..." I slowly push her backwards, my hand flat against her chest, until her shoulders hit the cold metal of the door behind her, then lean in, my lips almost grazing her ear, "...the fact that we can finally sneak away."

"Is that so?"

She tries to sound cool, but her low, shaky gasp already betrays her rising excitement.

"I promised you soon," I go on, tracking a raindrop that rolls from her temple to her jaw, before nudging her chin up, whispering against the corner of her lips, "This is soon."

My fingertips graze her throat, linger at her pulse point, then move further backwards - over the damp, clingy hairs that are stuck to her skin. Cupping the back of her neck, I pull her towards me.

And then I kiss her - for real.

And boy, does she kiss me back!

Her mouth falls open the moment I trace my tongue along the seam of her lips, sucking me in, welcoming me with her own.

With hands tangled up in wet hair she pulls me closer, or I press myself against her, God knows at this point, and despite the fact that the rain got us frozen to the marrow, I can feel her body heat right through the fabric of her sodden clothes.

She captures my bottom lip between her teeth, pulls gently, then soothes it with her tongue. Shuddering at her touch, I draw her in again, deepening our kiss, needy and hungry. Our breaths become one, and with the increasing pounding of my heart I can feel a delicious warmth spreading between my legs.

Not ever wanting to stop, I find myself chasing her lips when Clarke pulls back. A small whimper escapes me when I fail.

"Fuck, I missed this. This... you," she sighs, catching her breath. "This us."

"Yeah?" I breathe, already searching for her mouth again, right when she rolls her head. My lips find the exposed skin of her neck instead. Something I can definitely work with, too. I sink my teeth in, knowing it will leave a mark, and quickly make up for it by sucking that one spot that always drives her wild.

"Hell yeah," she groans, "I love this us."

There's not a bone in my body that disagrees with her and I'd die to hear everything else she loves about us, but there's a time for talking and there's a time for... this. This absolute need to feel her lips on mine.

My nails scratch her neck as I pull her back in. Her moan of approval echoes in my mouth, vibrates through my body and sets me on fire.

Her tongue finds mine again for a kiss that's even more eager, even more hot, and within seconds our breathing becomes hard and heavy. I know we are loud, with the sounds of our moans bouncing off the walls, but we're protected by a shield of rain drumming on the roof, and also I don't care - even though I probably should.

This time it's Clarke who dips her head, skimming her lips against the sensitive skin of my throat, searching for my pulse, making me shiver - and tight with want. Needing her to go on, forever if possible, I keep her lips close, while my hands smooth down from her neck, over the blades of her shoulders and along her spine, to the small of her back. When they get hold on her hips, I roughly pull her against me. There!

I press into her, my hand trailing further down, to her thigh, but Clarke already gets the hint. She pulls her leg up, creating all the room I need. A deep groan escapes me.

"Shit, you feel so good."

She inches back and peers up at me through dark, hooded eyes. "Want more of that?"

Without a blink, she lowers one hand to my ass and starts to buck into me. Forceful, yet teasingly slow.

"Yes!" I want to scream. "Yes, yes, yes!" But I'm suddenly lost for words.

So instead I bite my lip, enjoy the feeling until it's not enough anymore. Slipping two fingers underneath the waistband of her jeans, I pull her with me; two, three steps backwards, before pushing her down onto one of the side benches. Her eyes never leave mine.

I straddle her thigh, finding a tight grip on her shoulders, and start to rock my hips - a soft cry escaping me with every thrust.

There's nothing like this sight of her. This sight of her watching me ride her, use her, with these lusty eyes and this... this cocky smirk on her lips as she sits back for a bit to take it all in. Yet when her fingers dig in the flesh of my ass cheeks, finally helping me out by pressing me even further down, I just can't focus any longer. With closed eyes, my head falls back.

For a moment, this is all there is, all we are.

Things can't get better than this. Except that they can. Of course they can.

As I keep moving, keep dragging myself over the rough denim of her jeans, I feel how she sits up - her chest now close against mine. Her hand sneaks underneath the hem of my shirt, stroking the skin of my belly as it travels further up.

When she cups the fullness of my breast, her palm firm against my hard peak, my eyes fly wide open. I arch beneath her touch and she leans in, burying her face into the valley she just can't reach.

"Off," she mumbles against the fabric.

Without hesitation I let go of her, just for one second, and pull my shirt over my head. When she does the same with hers, I use the moment to take her in, unconsciously licking my lips.

"How are you this hot?" I breathe, finally finding my voice back - or well, some deep, raspy version of it.

Beyond my control my hips start to rock again, though this time I force myself to go slow, to stay in the moment. I watch her when she unhooks my bra, laps my nipple and sucks it in. Listen to her content hums of delight as my body responds to her every touch. Another wave of pleasure hits my core. Bringing me closer and closer.

It's not just me though.

I can feel how her body gets impatient. How it starts to squirm underneath my own. How it simply needs more.

She pulls me closer, almost testy, in search for my knee between her legs. The moment she finds it, a deep exhale falls from her lips. Grinding her center against me, she picks up my rhythm. And when she tips her head, her lips leaving a trail of wet kisses along my jaw, she gasps between heavy breaths, "Touch me. Please—"

My hand finds her breast, her touch-starved nipple, but I know that's not where she really wants me. So I let it graze down, until it's about to disappear between our bodies. Unzipping her pants, I slide my fingers in. Shit, did I do this?

Reading my mind, she wiggles her brows and nods. "For you," she smirks again.

I whimper, not able to form half the words she can. As my fingers start to explore, my free arm wraps itself around her neck. With my face this close to hers, our staccato breaths unite.

The moment I find her swollen nub, our lips crash together again, trapping her long-drawn moan between us. My fingers, our tongues, our hips... they all move in unison. Damn, we are good at this.

My mind might be clouded, intoxicated by all that's her, but that's a fact I'm highly aware of. We are made for this. For driving each other absolutely insane. It's the only coherent thought I can form right now, but it's one that matters, one that spurs me on even more. Until that other truth hits me: that if we keep going like this, we both will come in a minute. Probably less.

And I don't want to. Not yet. Not like this.

I retract my hand, making Clarke mutter in response, but when I lick her off my fingers, deliberately slow and without taking my eyes off of her, her protesting oooooh promptly turns into a sudden oh!

Giggling, I suggestively raise my brows. That's right girl, we are so not done.

Sliding off her lap, I drag her with me to the floor of the truck, where we quickly help each other strip out of the rest of our sticky clothes. In one earth-shattering flow we touch, we taste, and we take each other. Edging over and over again.

Until the pain for release becomes too much.

"Lex—" Clarke gasps close to my ear, as I draw my fingers out of her, right when the grip of her walls start to tighten. "I need to come. Please— Please Lexa, make me come."

"I know babe, I'm with you," I pant, about to burst as well, "Come— Come here."

Pulling her closer, even more into me, I swiftly find my position on top of her and start to move, rubbing my wet core against hers.

Clarke raises her hips, desperate and frantically, muttering a stream of breathless praises into my ear.

"F-Fuck... Fuck yes! Yes! Right— Right there..."

Her hands on my ass encourage my movements. I increase my thrusts, grinding faster now, and harder. Every time I feel her swollen clit hitting my own, electric bolts shoot through my body.

I bury my hand in her hair, my forehead pressed against hers as I keep pounding into her.

"I'm so... I'm soo close..." I stammer, completely out of breath, but unable to stop. I'm not sure if she heard me, with the raging storm outside still being louder than us, but I can see in her eyes that she knows.

"N-Now?"

I swallow, then nod, almost uncontrollably. "Now."

We keep bucking into each other, our tensed bodies trembling and shaking, and then I simply can't tell anymore which lightning is coming from the heavy weather and which one is coming from deep down inside of me.

Gasping against each others lips, with our eyes shut, release overtakes the both of us... and for a moment the world is still again.

As we ride out our orgasms, I slowly lower my sweaty body on top of Clarke's, resting my head on her collarbone. She wraps her arms around me. Entwined like this, together as one, with synchronous heartbeats, we both try to regain our breaths until I roll away, releasing her from my weight.

Lying next to each other, our overheated bodies completely stretched out, and our chests still rapidly rising up and down, I turn my head to face her.

"Fuck Griffin, seriously, how are you this hot?!" I sigh with a staggering chuckle.

She snorts in disbelief. "Ever looked at yourself?!"

I mirror her grin, leaving our questions in the air, unanswered. Without moving, my gaze starts to trail her naked body, admires every detail of it. She lets me watch her, unashamed.

In awe, as if I'm seeing her for the first time, I whisper, "You are so beautiful."

Another giggle escapes her. "You mean I'm soaked, sweaty, bruised and marked."

"No," I smile lazily, shaking my head, "I mean beautiful. The most beautiful of all."

She narrows her eyes. "Agree to disagree?"

"No," I tell her again.

"Hm... How about a counter offer then?" Not waiting for my reaction, Clarke inches a little closer. Brushing my upper arm with her fingertips, she suggests, "You can think of me as the most beautiful one, as I can think of you?"

I raise my brows. "You ever think of me?"

"Never," she states, keeping her face straight for three seconds—at most—before laughter takes over, "Except all the time!" She leans in, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. "I never stopped. And I never will."

I want to hear more, want her to share all her thoughts with me, but just when I'm about to ask I notice the goosebumps on her skin. So instead, I stretch my arm to pull an old rug from underneath the bench. Unlike a minute before, the metal floor now feels hard and rough below my body.

Turning back to her, I make a face.

"You're right about those marks though. We're sure gonna be sore tomorrow!"

She shrugs. "I'd say it was worth every bruise."

"You think this proves those folks right, the ones that are all about the rewards of anticipation?" I question out loud.

Clarke bites her lips, giving it some thought. "Maybe. I wouldn't want to put it through an experiment though. First of: you, my dear, are always mind-blowingly good. Trust me. And second, and I'm saying this with all my love for our small family and the life we're building with them: I never want to wait this long ever again!"

"Ha!" I laugh, already pulling her back in my arms, "That I can agree on!"

- - END OF PART TWO - -

Chapter Text

It feels weird being without Lexa. Even weirder than being with her mother, who I still hardly know. We said our goodbyes barely six hours ago, and I already miss her like I'm missing a piece of myself. I try telling myself I've spent most of my life without her, doing perfectly fine, so what's a few more days, but for some reason that only makes it worse. It really is strange how quick you get used to someone being around you. Being a part of you.

"Clarke?"

The way Madi pulls my sleeve tells me this isn't the first time she's calling for me. Without slowing down, I look next to me.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, "What is it?"

Madi points into the distance. "They're gone."

She's serious, but her words make me laugh anyway. "Don't worry, I know it seems like that from over here, I remember very well from my first visit, but you can actually see the camp from right—" Reaching the top of a low hillock, I abruptly fall quiet.

She's right. The ship is gone. The camp is gone.

They are gone.

"We've got a problem?" Madison asks, showing up beside me and reading our baffled faces.

"I uhm..." Still blinking in confusion, I turn to her. "I don't know."

She frowns. "You don't know if there's a problem?"

"That's right," I nod, "So I'm going to find out. Alone."

Madison knows I can't bring her into the camp. Not just like that. I told her my people are very much on guard, not trained to question, but to shoot. Which isn't true, except for Diyoza and her prisoner army maybe, but it sure makes more sense than having to clarify why everyone keeps asking me about the loss of some girl named Lexa. Some girl who clearly meant a lot to me. While I was dating—and thus cheating on?—her daughter. I've talked myself out of a lot of things, but I really can't think of any explanation for this.

I turn to Madi. "You'd better wait here with Madison. In case trouble comes your way."

My real worry, of course, lays in the chance that Madison could be the actual trouble. As said, I don't know her that well yet, but my instinct tells me not to underestimate her, or her obedience.

She nods, and as they both take a seat on some moss covered log, I start making my way through the trees, avoiding the many twigs and branches that form a natural barrier. It's only when I reach the open area that I notice it's not completely empty. All tents as well as the ship are gone, but on the far edge of the glade someone has built a simple hut.

As I cautiously approach it, that someone—or so I assume—opens the door.

It's Niylah.

The moment she sees me, recognition dawns and her face lights up. "Clarke!"

Greatly relieved to spot an old friend, I rush towards her. We embrace, tightly, and when we do, I feel comfort despite the current chaos in my brain. "I knew you'd come back," she sighs into my hair.

Letting go of her, I open my mouth to respond, but she already turns on her heels, towards the hut. "Octavia! Come see who's here!"

Before I know it, Octavia joins us.

"So you were right," she says, though not to me.

I narrow my eyes, not understanding. "Right about what?"

"Niylah insisted on waiting for you. Just like Bell," Octavia shrugs, "They were sure you would return sooner or later."

Still confused, my eyes dart from one to the other. "I don't get it. Did everyone else... leave?"

This time Octavia remains silent, which doesn't suit her. Niylah doesn't say anything either, but takes my hand instead. "Come," she just says, "let's get inside."

Their shelter is dimly lit by a small fire in the corner, warming a pot hanging above it. I smell woodsmoke and burnt pine cones, but also something less heavy. Wildflowers. And herbs. I recognize the table on which we helped Yumiko with her gunshot wound and some seats taken from the ship. Niylah directs me to one of them.

"After you left, Indra and Bellamy informed us about Lexa's... fate," she starts to tell, sitting down next to me. "The loss of the Flame, and the free choice that came with it, was liberating for some, but unsettling for others. Quite a few turned to Octavia again."

"Never again though!" Octavia comments from right behind her.

"Within days, people started to get restless. By this time, it had become clear to most of us that this might not be the ideal place to settle down - despite the permission you guys managed to obtain," Niylah goes on. "No angry neighbors is a real plus, but without resources it is actually impossible to sustain here. Especially when you are with two hundred people."

I quietly nod. So far, everything makes sense, whether I like it or not.

"Diyoza was the first to leave, all on her own. Wanting to be out of these woods before her baby announced itself. Abby tried to convince her to stay, so she could help her, but there was no stopping her. She departed southward. We haven't heard from her since."

"How about her army?" I ask, but I already know. She left them up there, most likely forever.

Octavia, now taking a chair as well, picks up where Niylah left off.

"Indra and Gaia followed soon after, the majority of the Grounders joining them. They headed west."

Curious, I tilt my head a little, unable to hide my surprise. "You didn't consider joining them?"

She shakes her head, showing me a weak smile. "Not for a second. I've learned my lesson. Realized who I am - or want to be. What I broke, but most of all want to fix. Even when it's hard."

It's not hard to guess what she's talking about. She and her brother have a very complicated past, and they didn't end things on a good note before going into cryo, but they're still family - of each other, and in a way of us, too. It also sounds like the Blodreina days are definitely over. Something I want to hear more about, but now seems not the time.

"At least the two of you are talking again," Niylah gently tells her former leader, before looking back at me. "While more and more people left, we started making our own plans. After Bellamy had returned from Alexandria he'd told our inner circle about it, and we decided to join Raven and Shaw there."

"Who's we, exactly?"

"Bellamy, Echo, Octavia, Murphy, Emori, Abby and me," she sums up in one breath, making me sit up in wonder.

"Wait, my mother agreed to join you?!"

"She did," Niylah nods, "She started to accept that Kane would never wake up from his coma, or survive if he did. She did want to go back up one more time though. To get all the medical equipment we could use down here, but most of all to say goodbye."

I swallow, feeling sad for Mom that she had to go through this alone. If only I'd been here to make that final trip with her.

"So... she did all that... and is with Raven now... right? Then why are you still here?"

Taking a deep breath, Niylah shifts in her seat. "Because we wanted to make sure that you got the chance to... to find out what happened."

"What do you mean, what happened?" I question, my voice suddenly on edge, "You just told me. People moved away. They have spread. And you... we... our peo—"

"Clarke, there was an accident," Octavia stops me, making me face her again. "Maybe the pilots weren't as experienced as Raven, Shaw or even Emori, maybe there was a technical problem, but... the dropship crashed."

I stare at her. Why is it so dark in here? And seriously, what's with that smell? Has it been this quiet the whole time? Madison is still out there. Maybe I should—

The tender touch of Niylah's hand on top of mine finally makes me blink.

"We found the wreck about two miles north, with everyone still on board. There were no survivors." Clearing her throat, she softly squeezes my hand. "Clarke, your mother died."

... ...

Chapter Text

As I watch Clarke run off through the bushes, I sit myself down on a fallen oak, giving my tired legs some well-deserved rest after our long hike.

Madison follows my example, taking a seat on the same tree trunk, right next to me. "You two really come as a pack, huh?" she remarks as soon as Clarke is out of sight.

When I turn to look at her, she offers me her water flask. I accept it with a smile, but that doesn't mean I'm not on my guard; I knew this moment would come. The moment she'd start fishing.

"Clarke took me under her wing when I was very young and all alone," I tell her truthfully, "She has taken care of me ever since."

Doing the math in her head, she raises her brows. "She must have been half a kid herself."

"Being young doesn't make you a child," I set her straight.

For a moment she gazes at me, intently, but then a small grin appears on her lips. "You've got me there." And then, sighing, "Though I really wish you were wrong. You're all forced to grow up so fast these days. I might hate that even more than the danger itself."

"Is it true that you used to be a teacher?" I ask, turning the tables before she can question me further.

"Not quite," Madison answers, "I did work at a high school, the one my kids attended, but I didn't teach. I was a guidance counselor."

I stare ahead again, huddling in my coat though it's anything but chilly. "I've never heard of such a job," I mumble, feeling a little embarrassed, "But it sounds important... And nice."

"I just tried to be there for those who needed it," she shrugs, "To help to prepare them for a future that never came."

The sudden sadness in her voice fills the air and leaves me quiet.

Madison, getting the flask back from me, takes a few sips, then asks, "How about your parents? Do you know what they used to do?"

I shift restlessly, glancing at the camp's direction - or what's left of it. There's no sign of Clarke returning any time soon.

Facing Madison again, I shake my head. "I don't know much. They didn't like to talk about their lives before... you know." Like earlier, I'm not lying. I'm just letting her believe their lives ended when hers did as well—when this world went down because of this virus, or whatever—while in reality it was when they had to leave it all behind, protecting me. Or maybe even way before that. When they lost Lexa.

"That's a shame, but I get it. It's the same for many of us, actually, the need we felt—or still feel—to distance ourselves from the past, to be able to handle the present."

"It left me behind with tons of questions though..." I sigh, standing up in the sudden need to move around.

She watches me as I start to sweep some leaves together with my foot. "Yeah, that doesn't sound very fair," she nods understandingly, "Especially when there's no one else left to answer them for you. You don't have any brothers or sisters, do you?"

"I have a sister," I answer her before I can stop myself, "But we didn't get the chance to grow up together..."

Withdrawing my eyes from the dirt around my feet, I peek up at her again. Our eyes meet and she gives me a compassionate smile. "I'm sorry, Madi," she says in a way that makes me believe her. When I stay quiet, Madison gets up as well, continuing in a much lighter tone, "Do you know that they used to call me Maddie, too?"

I snort, amused by the coincidence, but then suddenly fall quiet, raising my hand. "There's someone here!"

We turn around together as one, ready to defend ourselves, right when two figures emerge from the dense foliage. The second I see their faces, I breathe a sigh of relief.

It's Echo and Bellamy.

"Madi!" they exclaim in one voice, "What are you doing here?"

"We came to see Abby," I start to explain after a some brief hugs, "But when we got here, it suddenly looked so deserted. So Clarke wanted to explore first."

"Clarke is over there right now?" Bellamy asks, exchanging a quick glance with Echo.

I nod, then frown, not understanding the uneasiness in his voice. "Why? What's going on?"

Echo, taking a step closer towards me, inhales deeply. Whatever she is going to tell me, I can tell she regrets it already. "Abby was in an accident," she answers as sorrow etches her features, "The Gagarin, it crashed. No one survived."

Her words make me gasp for air.

"She... she lost her mother?"

Shocked and at my wits' end, I look from one to the other. Bellamy just swallows, not knowing what to say. Echo looks as devastated, but rests her hand upon my shoulder nonetheless, as if to ground me. "I know this is a lot, but chances are Clarke is getting this exact same news from Niylah or Octavia right now," she quietly goes on, "We'd better go see her."

They turn around, about to lead us the way, but then seem to change their minds and face Madison instead.

"Who are you?" Bellamy asks her.

"Madison," she answers calmly, "I'm—"

"She's a friend," I quickly cut in. When she doesn't correct or complete me, we share a look of understanding. Friend will do. At least for now.

The answer seems to be enough for Bellamy too. He simply tilts his head, inviting us to follow them.

While we cross the short distance to their, as I soon learn, temporary quarters, they give me a quick update on the past few weeks, during which everyone but the four of them have left the area. Intending to eventually join Raven, Shaw, Murphy and Emori in Alexandria, they chose to stay behind in case Clarke would return—all agreeing that she deserved the chance to find out what had happened.

We reach their small, self-built stay and enter it without another word. As soon as I get inside, I see her down on the floor; collapsed, writhing and whimpering as if in physical pain. Niylah is sitting next to her, trying to offer her comfort, but Clarke doesn't seem to notice. Wherever she is, it's not here.

I speed towards her and drop to my knees to capture her in my arms. When I pull her close to me, her body turns limp like a stringless puppet. For a second I wonder if she realizes it's me, but when her eyes find mine, I can tell that she does.

"She died," she sobs, "She died, Madi. She just... died."

As heavy tears roll down her cheeks, she keeps repeating that horrible truth - over and over and over again.

"I know," I softly hush, rocking her back and forth. "I know. I'm so sorry."

I'm not even sure if she hears me, but I simply don't know what else to say or do.

And so we sit like this, with me holding her tight, until I can feel how her breathing evens out and her racing heartbeat finally slows down a bit. Yet I know we're not there. Not even close. She's just beaten. Exhausted by this first wave of hurt.

Not able to stop crying, her panting sobs now turn into silent tears. That's when she looks up at me again.

"I need her," she quietly wails, her voice hoarse and broken.

"I know you do, Clarke," I whisper, stroking her wet cheek while fighting my own tears. "I know, but she's gone now."

I lean in, about to kiss the top of her head, but she moves away, making sure my eyes are still on hers.

"I need her," she tells me again, "I-I need her here."

Swallowing hard, I shake my head. "I'm sorry, I wish—"

But then it hits me. She's not talking about Abby.

I look up, facing the others. "Lexa," I tell no one in particular, "She's asking for Lexa."

Niylah, still sitting closest, clears her throat. When she speaks up, she sounds uncomfortable. A little worried even. "Madi, Lexa died as well. You know that, right? You told us yourself."

"I know we... I know that's uhm... what we said," I stammer. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to keep going. "But... she didn't. Die, I mean. We made that up. To... to set her free."

Blinking in disbelief, Niylah leans closer. "H-Heda is alive?!"

"Yes," I nod, before rapidly shaking my head, "N-No, I mean. Lexa is. Just Lexa."

Bellamy coughs, making me gaze up at him. "Madi, what are you saying?"

I stare back at him, then at everyone else, one by one. I see them, register their confused faces, including Madison's. The many questions in their eyes. But I can't care about that right now. I can only care about Clarke.

So instead of answering Bellamy, I look at Echo.

"She's hiding at Hilltop," I tell her. "Please go find her. Please bring—" No longer able to hold it together, I break down. Pleading through my tears, I try one more time. "Please bring her home."

... ...

Chapter Text

I warily open the creaky door and step inside the cabin, leaving Echo behind outside. Despite the dimness, I immediately see her lying on the old mattress, curled up in a ball with her face to the wall. Madi is sitting at the table, not far away from her. She jumps up as soon as she sees me.

"Lexa!"

We hug each other, just briefly, as the restlessness in my body is too intense to linger any longer. My mind is already elsewhere and I quickly want to follow.

"How is she? Did she sleep... or eat?"

Madi just shakes her head. The concern in her eyes is reflecting my own.

Swallowing hard, we share a look of deep sadness, before I turn to Clarke and kneel down next to her.

She hasn't responded to my presence yet and for a moment I think—I hope—that maybe she fell asleep after all. Yet the moment I lay my hand on her upper arm, she raises her head to gaze over her shoulder - drowsy, as if being pulled out of a dazing trance. The kind that only comes with heavy grief.

"Hi," I say softly when our eyes meet. My voice is failing me and has to come from far away.

Clarke's lip starts to tremble. "My mother is dead," she says in response, while turning further toward me. I wrap my arms around her, catching her in a tight embrace.

"I heard," I whisper, "Echo told me everything."

Another choked sob escapes her and when I feel her warm tears against the skin of my neck, I can no longer hold back my own. Together we cry, without letting go of each other for even a second, and until our tears run out - at least for now. That's when I pull away, just enough to properly see her face. I gently stroke it. I've never seen her this broken.

"What can I do?" I quietly ask her.

She looks at me intently, keeps her eyes locked on mine as if she can see something in there to hold on to. Some sort of lifebuoy that saves her from drowning.

"Stay with me," she answers, "Never leave me. Never... never die on me again. Not you, too."

Shifting around on my heels, I sink down next to her, then take her into my arms again. As soon as I do, she presses her head against my chest, crawling close to my body. I lean in to kiss her crown. "Hey, I'm here, I've got you. I'll never let you go," I breathe into her hair, knowing—and hating—that I can't promise her anything more. "You're not alone."

"Then why does it feel like that?" she asks, fighting another flow of tears. "Why do I feel more alone now then when I actually was, back then?"

I squeeze her even tighter against me. "Maybe because then, in a way, she was still with you? She still existed... somewhere in your world."

"I was still on her mind," Clarke mumbles. It's the same conclusion we drew some weeks ago. The value of being someone's child, simply by living in their thoughts. Only this time it's about her mother instead of mine.

"Exactly," I nod, "Wherever you went, with or without her, you could be certain of that. But now, all of a sudden, that thinking-of-each-other became a one way street. And there's nothing more lonely than a one way street."

The room falls silent. I exchange another look with Madi, who has returned to her seat and is watching us from the short distance. She looks tired, almost as tired as Clarke, and I'm pretty sure she hasn't slept a wink either. That she stayed up with Clarke all night, watching over her, because that's who she is.

"Do you think..." Clarke speaks up quietly, drawing my attention back to her. "Do you think there's a chance she does still exist?" She doesn't look up, can't read the confusion in my eyes, but clarifies herself anyway - sort of. "Because of the nightblood?"

Her question surprises me.

"You're thinking about the void?" I frown.

She shrugs in my arms, then sniffs, "I know it's stupid, but... yeah."

"I don't know," I answer truthfully, "Maybe."

With the shared experience of Luna, Phoenix, Aden and myself, this next-life fate of the original Nightbloods is starting to seem like a fact, but so far we have no evidence, not even a clue, what happens to anyone who only got a transfusion. Even if we did though, even if this could mean Abby's life wouldn't be all over, I know her life with Clarke would be. I know that Clarke can't be on her mind, just like she wasn't on mine, and that the long passing of time that will follow wouldn't allow them to ever meet again. I might not be religious, but when it comes to it, I truly believe there's a bigger chance for a reunion between them in afterlife than there could be here on earth.

But of course I don't tell her any of this. Instead, I kiss her forehead and gently make her lay down until her cheek rests on my thigh. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"

This time her eyes do search for mine. "You stay with me?" she asks me again.

"Always," I smile, though wearily.

She nods slowly, then finally gives in to her exhaustion, closing her eyes with a long and shaky exhale. It takes her less than a minute to drift off.

As I start stroking Clarke's hair, my eyes search for Madi again. She just stoked the fire by adding more wood to the flames and is now turning back toward us. I silently beckon her with a nod, offering her the spot on my other side.

Without hesitation, Madi walks over and drops down next to me, her back against the fragile wall behind her.

"I'm sorry I had to tell them," she quietly speaks, not wanting to wake Clarke.

"That's okay, kiddo," I gently reassure her, "You did good. How did they react? Were they mad?"

She shakes her head. "No. They were surprised, a little shocked maybe, but not mad. Octavia even said she'd do the same."

"How about Niylay and Echo?" I ask. I can only imagine that they, the former Grounders among them, had the most questions.

"I had to explain to them that you're no longer in command. That you don't want to be seen or treated like that. They seemed to understand that." She looks up at me. "They mostly seemed glad that you're still with us."

I give her a smile. "You did really good, Madi," I tell her again, "Now get some rest. It's been a long night."

She doesn't argue with me, just lets her head slide onto my shoulder. It doesn't take long before her breathing starts following the deep, slow rhythm of Clarke's.

... ...

I don't know how long we've been sitting like this, huddled together like a nest of kittens, when the door opens. As Mom lets herself in though, I can see that the sun behind her has started its way down.

"So it is you?" she bluntly asks.

I blink, and not just because of the sudden light falling in. "W-What do you mean?"

"This girl Clarke asked for, the one they had to go find for her."

"Of course it's me," I answer somewhat bewildered, "You know we're—"

"Then what's with the name?" Mom goes on already, "Lexa, was it? Or Heda?! I'm sorry, I got so much new information, I might have mixed some things up."

She seems annoyed, which annoys me, because her timing could not be more horrible and inappropriate. But I also feel guilty. I know there's more behind her mood, and her questions. She's unsure, maybe even scared. She knows something is going on and whatever it is, she can't have that. There's no place in this world for blind trust. One doesn't survive by blind trust.

So I count to ten, then answer, "It's just an alias," and then, before I can fully stop myself, "And a ti—"

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

Mom takes a deep breath, which doesn't help her one bit; her rising impatience still shines through heavily.

"Alicia, enough already! I literally have a dozen questions and you manage to double them every time. How about telling me the truth for once?!"

Feeling my own anger grow, I give her a stern look. "Can you keep it down?" I gesture at Clarke and Madi, who both don't need much commotion to wake up. "They've been through enough."

"Then let's talk outside," Mom states, already about to turn around.

"No," I say, surprising myself by my own steadiness, "I'm not leaving them."

Mom narrows her eyes. "They are asleep."

"That doesn't matter," I shrug, and then again, "I'm not leaving them."

For a second I feel like she's going to make me choose, but gladfully she's smart enough not to. "Fine," she grumbles instead, before taking a seat at the table, "Consider this my listening chair. Now tell me everything."

"Mom!"

"Yes," she quickly replies, "Let's start with that. Am I? Am I your mother?"

"What the..." I shuffle in my seat, restless yet cautious, while struggling hard with the task I just gave her: to keep my voice down. "What kind of question is that?!"

Mom leans forward, elbows on the table, a now deadpan look on her face.

"The resemblance is remarkable, I give you that," she starts with a hint of admiration, "But the thing is, I would recognize my own child with my eyes closed in a crowd of thousands. Always! Time passing by or some different name can't change that."

"I told you, it's just a pseudonym," I sigh, but this time she ignores me, clearly not being done.

"I want to believe it's you. I do believe it, most of the time. Honestly, how could I not? But then there is that little voice, every now and then, telling me not to. Telling me something's off. Because of these moments, flashes really, when you're nothing like my Alicia. When you feel like a complete stranger to me."

Not liking where this is going, I open my mouth, but no words come out. Meanwhile Mom already goes on, her voice getting sharper with each sentence.

"And I haven't even started about that constant secrecy surrounding you. The looks, the lies..." She gets up again, only to crouch down right in front of me, staring me straight in the eye. "So explain that to me. Or better yet, convince me... convince me that you're not some fraud. That you're not some—"

"Stop it!" I cut her off, calm as ice, though with my eyes spitting fire, "Stop defying me, or I'll have to ask them to escort you out."

The moment the words are out, I bite my tongue, realizing she got me exactly where she wanted me. To lose it in front of her, and use that evidence to confront me with the elusive feeling she's apparently been struggling with since our reunion.

The proof of that other half of me.

And I'm right.

"See!" she jumps up, pointing her finger at me, "This! This isn't you, Alicia - or whoever you really are!"

"But it is!" I throw back at her, way louder than intended. In reaction, Clarke stirs in my lap, and Madi even sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I let her be and manage to get up without actually waking Clarke, so I'm face to face with Mom again. "Look at me!" Taking her by the shoulders, I force her to do so. "I'm all me. A bit of a new me, maybe, but me."

Mom sighs deeply, shaking her head. When she answers me, the hardness in her voice is gone. Instead she sounds defeated, almost desperate.

"Then what are you hiding for me?"

I avert my eyes, swallow, then mumble, "I can't tell you."

Letting go of her, I turn around, facing the door. For a slight second I consider the easy way out—taking a run for it—but I know there's no way I could leave Clarke behind. I also know running never got me anywhere.

"Why not?" Mom quietly asks from right behind me. I feel the light touch of her hand on my shoulder, before she goes on, "What are you so afraid of?"

With a sharp inhale, I tilt my head to the ceiling. Of course no answer is written on there.

"I'm afraid that you wouldn't believe me... and I'm afraid that you would," I yield at last. "If I would tell you everything, and you would understand the meaning of it all, it wouldn't make me someone else. It would change you."

Slowly, I turn back to her.

"If I tell you, there's no going back. No undoing, no unknowing. You and I, what we are to each other, will never be the same."

... ...

Chapter Text

"Let's see if I get this right. You're not just saying you believe in reincarnation now, but you also think you remember exactly who you used to be?"

I managed to make her sit down at the table with me, as long as she could keep an eye on Clarke and Madi, and to keep myself from interrupting her when she finally started to tell. Which wasn't easy, and doesn't mean I don't have loads of thoughts and questions.

"No," Alicia shakes her head, "I don't remember my old life, I'm still living it. As well as I'm living this new life."

Not able to help myself, I sigh. "Honey, I can tell you're very serious about this, but... you sound like someone with—"

"—multiple personality disorder," she shrugs, a nervous laugh escaping her. "I know. I swear though, it's nothing like that."

"Okaaay..." I slowly nod, dragging the word out to give myself a few more seconds to think, "What's it like then?"

Falling back in her chair, Alicia rubs her face, then takes a deep breath.

"It's like I just told you. I'm not just Alicia, I'm also Lexa. A former—"

"—army commander that tragically died at young age," I finish her sentence with another sigh, "Yes, you said that, but Alicia... come on!"

Beyond my control, I throw my arms up, yet catching myself on it, I immediately look away to calm myself, not wanting her to close up again. Whichever idea she's got into her head, at least she's telling me about it. When I turn back to her, she's watching me, motionless, with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I told you you wouldn't believe me," she lightly shrugs again, "Which is fine, I get it, but this is the story—the truth!—you asked for. Whether you take it or not."

I narrow my eyes. "What makes you so sure? How do you..."

"What?"

"How do you know it's not all in your head?" I ask her, tilting my head in wonder, "What makes this whole saga so real to you?"

"Them!" Alicia exclaims, jumping up from her chair, and surprising me with her action as well as her certainty. "It's not just me remembering—recalling every single detail—as if it was yesterday. I also have them to confirm it all. They remember me, and everything that happened. The people who were there with me. Clarke, Bellamy, Echo, Octavia, Niylah... and so, so many others!"

I watch her for a moment, watch the despair on her face; the desperation of a daughter who needs her mother to believe her. To trust her.

But how could I, when none of this makes any sense?!

Breaking our eye-contact, I move my gaze to the young girl sitting behind her, against the wall. The girl who's silently watching me in return, like a hawk.

"How about that?" I say somewhat mockingly, "She didn't mention you."

Madi stares back at me, continuously, but doesn't answer. Not until Alicia tells her it's okay.

"I was too young," she quietly speaks up, "I never met her. But I know it's all true. Lexa was a legend, not a myth. She still is."

With my brain in overdrive, I can no longer just sit here. "How did she do it?" I torment my thoughts as I start pacing around, "How did she convince this kid? Make her and apparently many others believe she's this... what... messiah?! What's her aim? How can it protect her—or us—in this fucked up world?"

Suddenly I stand still, my eyes searching for Alicia's again.

"What did you mean when you said your truth would change me? Or us?"

Dropping her shoulders, Alicia averts her eyes from me. "I-I don't know how..." She fleetingly peeks at me again, before letting her eyes drift around the dim room until they ultimately land back on Madi.

"It's all right," the kid tells her in a warm, understanding voice, "You don't have to."

Without moving, Alicia keeps looking at her, leaving me clueless once again what this is all about. Yet before I can ask, she squares her back - resolutely. Shaking her head, she clears her throat. "No, I do. No more lies. And definitely not about you."

"Oh my God, she's your child, isn't she?!" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

"No, she's not," Alicia answers, turning back to me, "She's my sister."

I stare at her for a second, speechless, then suddenly snort. "Sure, why not!?"

"I'm not joking."

"Oh, I know you're not," I laugh scornfully, "I just don't remember giving birth to a third baby," and then, shrugging in a playful apologetic way, "Sorry Madi."

Alicia groans, then drops down on her chair again. "I'm not saying she's your child, I'm saying she's my sister. Lexa's sister."

While another sigh escapes me, perhaps the hundredth one today, I also return to my chair. Once seated, I lean forward, resting my hand on top of hers.

"Sweety, she just said she never met you."

"Because I was taken away!" Alicia cries out, pulling her hand away in frustration. "Listen, there's no questioning this, we have proof. We recently found out that..."

I shift in my seat. "That what?"

"That..." She visibly swallows. "That we share the same DNA."

Blinking rapidly, I open my mouth without speaking - not remembering how to all of a sudden. Alicia takes it as a cue to go on. "Which means that... that you and I don't. That we are not related."

Her words feel like a punch to my stomach. "You're— You're claiming I'm not your mother? I carried you for nine months. I gave life to you! I raised—"

"Yes, you did all that, and so much more," she cuts me off, knowing too well I could rant on forever about this. "And for that alone you are my mother. But, scientifically... biologically..." She doesn't finish, just shakes her head in defeat. "I don't understand it either."

We stare at each other. Her eyes are filled with sadness. Mine probably still with disbelief. We both ignore the soft, shuffling motion behind me.

"What's going on?" Clarke breaks our silence, sounding groggy and hoarse from sleep. When neither Alicia or I react—our eyes still glued to each other—Madi quietly answers her, "Lexa is telling her everything."

"Ev-Everything?" Clarke stammers.

"Yeah," Madi goes on, "I'm not sure it's going well."

For some reason, those words hit me. Hurt me even.

"N-No. No, we're good," I answer with a quick look over my shoulder, before focusing on my daughter again. "We're good," I tell her too. "That proof, how did you get it?"

As she fidgets with her fingers, drawing my attention to those hands I know so well, those hands I held in mine when I taught her to stand, to walk, to explore the world, she looks up at me from under her beautiful lashes.

"We know some scientists. Mom, I'm not making any of this up, you have to believe me."

"I do," I nod, which is the truth. I do believe that she didn't come up with this. Yet someone did. For whatever reason, someone wants to strengthen this conviction about my child being some fierce leader from another world. With lies. With brainwashing. Someone is behind all this.

Someone is taking all this one step too far.

"I want to meet them," I tell her, "I want them to make me part of the research you were subjected to. I think I deserve at least that."

"I-I don't know," Alicia mumbles. She looks at Clarke, who now joins us at the table. "I'm not sure if we should go back there."

I frown. "Why not?"

"That's between me and Clarke." I can be wrong, but I think I catch a hint of shame in her tone.

"It's fine," Clarke softly smiles at her as she takes her hand into her own. Unlike before, with me, Alicia doesn't pull away. "We can go back to Alexandria, I don't mind."

They share a look, like they've been doing for weeks—one that tells me there's a lot more going on between them than just some cute, blossoming relationship—before facing me again.

"Alright," Alicia slowly nods, "we can go there, join the others. We can ask them to do another test, if that helps you. But Mom... it won't change anything. Those results, they will only confirm what I'm telling you. Are you sure that's what you want?"

"I want to be your mother," I say by way of answer, as I get up and move around the table. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to me tightly. "I want you to know that I am your mother, in every aspect, and for you to truly believe that. If that means I need to find a way to prove that, then yes, that's what I want."

"How about the rest of it?" she asks me in a thin, fragile voice. She still so desperately needs me to believe her.

I sway her in my arms. My child. My baby girl. "I don't care about the rest of it," I whisper. "As long as you're okay."

I can feel how much relief these words bring her, how my lie makes her body relax - at last. I'm glad. I don't like being dishonest, especially not to my children, but I choose it over seeing her stressed and anxious. If I can help her by living the lie so she doesn't have to, then I don't mind one bit.

It's not my only reason to play along though.

I need to get in. Need to find out who's behind all this. Because I swear to God, whoever is trying to take my daughter away from me, is going to regret it.

... ...

Chapter Text

With no reason left to stay, we leave first thing in the morning; our little group doubled in size now that Bellamy, Octavia, Echo and Niylah join us for our trip back to Alexandria.

As I strap my backpack on, Lexa comes to me.

"Are you sure about this?" she asks me for the third time, "Cause we really don't have to. I can tell Mom—"

"It's fine," I say, also for the third time.

She rests her hand on my shoulder. "I just don't want you to feel weird or worried about it."

"I'm not," I tell her truthfully. Not wanting to sound indifferent about us, I swallow the i'm-not-feeling-anything part. Instead I turn around, leading her with me toward the door. "Let's go."

Once outside, Lexa tilts her head to the sky, closing her eyes for a second. A soft, sated sigh escapes her. "At least the sun is out."

I look around me. The long morning shadows of the trees lie dark on the ground, their sharp patterns proving her right. Yet the untouched, illuminated grass in between isn't as green as it should be, and when I look up to a cloudless heaven, it's not blue as expected - it's just as gray as everything else.

The early sun rays don't warm my face, as they seem to warm Lexa's, and if it weren't for the rustling of the leaves, I wouldn't have noticed the light breeze that's caressing my skin.

The others are waiting for us at the north side of the glade. The moment we join them, they turn their back to the cabin without a word of goodbye to it.

Just another chapter to leave behind.

Or well, almost.

We walk in silence for a while, making our way through a more dense part of the forest, but eventually our quiet peace is broken by Bellamy.

"The ship was on its way down, so we assume Abby did get the chance to stock up like she wanted to," he starts to tell to—I guess—no one in particular. "However, the crash destroyed almost everything on board, and the fire that followed made it even worse. We did collect a few things, equipment that seemed useful if it can be fixed, but I'm not counting on anything. Anyway, Murphy and Emori took it with them for Raven. She's kind of our last hope now."

"How about..." After a throat clear and a short look at me, Madi tries again. "How about the occupants? Could you... Were they even recognizable at all?"

The occupants. We learned their names last night, all five of them. Mom and four others, four names that didn't ring a single bell to me. Apparently, one of them was a former right-hand of Shaw. The other three were all Wonkru.

The names I did pick up on were those of Jackson and Miller, who are still up there. Who are now trapped, together with a lifeless Marcus Kane and a bunch of sleeping prisoners. A nightmare on its own. Yet at the same time, a reality that doesn't really manage to get through to me.

"They were," Octavia answers Madi's question. "Their faces and bodies were all severely damaged, but there was no doubt in telling it was them." She looks at me, sorrow clouding her face. "I'm so sorry."

"Wait," Madison comes in between, "How did you find them?"

Octavia turns to her. "What do you mean?"

"The deceased. What condition did you find them in?"

"Uhhh..." After exchanging a quick glance with the others, Octavia frowns at Madison. "A dead condition?"

Before Madison can finish her rather impatient sigh, Lexa comes to her aid. "She's asking if they turned. Into walkers."

"Walkers?" Disgusted by the mental image, Octavia pulls a face. "Urgh, no!"

"Two of them were still attached to their seats, the other three had been thrown away by the impact," Bellamy answers with a little more detail.

Madison opens her mouth, still not satisfied by the answer, but this time Echo beats her to it. "That's were we found them, lying on the ground. They didn't walk around, they didn't even move," she clarifies, "They weren't... alive... if that's what we call it." Her eyes briefly find mine, and just like Octavia she quietly apologizes.

I think I mumble an it's okay, but I'm not sure if the words actually come out.

"So it's working," Madison says, now turning back to Lexa, "That vaccine of yours, it's not only protecting you from a bite, it also prevents from turning after death."

"Seems like it," Lexa nods, "Niylah, were they all inoculated?"

Niylah, who leads our small group, turns around. "They were, yes." And then, looking at me, "We are here."

Tiptoeing, I stretch and look past her, at an open spot between the trees like we just left behind us, yet somewhat smaller. Smaller and buried with wreckage.

"Must have been some rocket," Madison murmurs in awe.

I get it. Despite the fact that it's all in pieces now, the broken, mostly blackened metal panels of the Gagarin make for an impressive sight, even when they're scattered like this. Or maybe because of it?

"Not a rocket," Lexa whispers right next to me, "a rollercoaster." I follow her gaze, which rests on one of the seats, the kind that used to come with a shoulder harness. The kind that kept her safe, not that long ago, but that now lies desolated and useless between us and the crash site.

Like before, silence falls upon us, until Niylah points at a huge elm tree on the other side. "We buried them over there. Abby's grave is on the left."

I nod, but don't move.

With my eyes glued to the row of crosses in the distance, I notice how Lexa takes my hand.

"Are you ready?" she asks in a low voice.

I swallow, then nod again.

We don't cross the glade, but make our way around it - just me and Lexa. Everyone else stays behind, giving me time and space. I don't look at the field on my left anymore, at all those pieces of evidence, of bitter truth, nor do I focus on our destination. All I see is the grass in front of my feet as we get closer and closer to her final resting place.

When we're almost there, Lexa stops for a second to pick some wild lupines. I know they're either blue or purple, but again, all I see is gray.

Now that we're almost there, I can see how the crosses are made from strong maple branches, each one inscribed with a name. As told, hers is on the far left, almost like a captain leading her team.

Abigail Griffin.

We both kneel down in front of it. The ground is hard underneath me; something I know by experience, but hardly register this time. Lexa lays the flowers at the foot of the grave, then gently puts her arm around my shoulders.

And then we just sit there, and as I do, all thoughts seem to leave me. Everything I always assumed I would say to her when the time would come, is gone. And all I can do instead is stare. Stare at her name curved into a handmade cross, until my vision blurs and there's nothing left to stare at anymore.

I feel like I should cry. Doesn't she deserve some tears on her grave? But my eyes are as dry as my mouth.

"Clarke?" Lexa tenderly asks, "Is there anything you want to say?"

I know she's watching me, even though I don't move - my gaze still frozen and captured. It doesn't matter. I know that her eyes are filled with love, care, sadness and worry.

"I-I don't remember," I say at last.

Holding me a little closer, she presses a kiss to my temple. "That's okay. Hey, you're here, that's all that matters. And I'm here, I can help you."

Finally, my eyes find hers.

"How?"

Without answering, she takes my hand, slowly directing it forward until my palm touches the ground. Subconsciously my fingers spread out underneath hers.

Only then she speaks up again, a little louder than before.

"In peace, may you leave the shore. In love, may you find the next." She looks at me for a hint of approval, which she finds in my eyes. Her voice quivers as she goes on, "Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey on the ground."

When she stops once more, she squeezes my hand, the one pressed into the loose soil, the one that's still connected to everything underneath. To Mom. It's a small gesture, but it's enough. Enough to help me with those closing words, making them fall from my lips, albeit in a whisper.

"May we meet again."

... ...

We spend the rest of the day, and a majority of the next, walking. During my years in space I could never have imagined my feet covering so many miles, let alone in such a relatively short time, without wearing out. To my own surprise, I don't hate it though.

That being said, our trip to Alexandria is totally uneventful - unlike the last time. We don't encounter anyone or anything dangerous, and as we're trying to stay quiet, we make sure to keep our conversations to a minimum. Not that I mind, as I still don't have much to say.

Lexa checks in on me every other hour, as do Madi and Niylah. Madison, on the other hand, must have decided to leave me alone, which I guess is her way of showing her respect; for once I don't have to be ready for her endless questions and theories. Something I do appreciate.

It's already late afternoon when we spot that familiar sign. "Welcome to the Alexandria Safe Zone. Mercy for the lost. Vengeance for the plunderers."

We are welcomed by Murphy, who happens to be on watch. He greets me in silence, with compassion written all over his face, and lets us through without interrogation.

At the house we find Raven. As soon as she sees me, tears well up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry about Abby," she cries, hugging me like there's no history between us.

"Me too," I sigh, "I know what she meant to you."

I break free from her embrace and look around like I'm searching for a vacancy sign. "How are things over here?" I swiftly ask, hoping that changing the subject will distract them from my lack of tears. "Ready to have us back?"

As it turns out, there's been some change in living arrangements during our absence. Raven is still staying at what used to be our townhouse, but with Shaw, Murphy and Emori joining her, it's now too cramped for four more. It 's quickly decided that Bell and Echo take our old room, while I leave it to Lexa to find something else for us. After all, she knows these people a lot better than the rest of us.

We're lucky (which in this world means someone else wasn't): one of the other houses down the street just became available and as it's pretty similar to our former place, it's big enough for six - as long as Madi takes the attic, which she actually loves. Of course, our residency will come with jobs and conditions again, but that's something we'll sort out once we're settled.

We have dinner at the Raven's Nest, as Madi starts calling our friends' place as soon as we've officially moved out. Raven and Emori have done their best to prepare a hearty meal for us, which after the long journey goes down well with the others - but comes without any taste to me.

Hardly finished, it's Lexa who gets up first. Urging our company to stay seated and enjoy the rest of the evening, she guides me toward the door without asking. "Let's get you home," she simply tells me. There's not a fiber in my body that wants to fight her.

It's just a three minute walk and when we get to the house, we move straight up the stairs.

"I already made the bed." Opening our bedroom door, Lexa shows me the way. "You can jump right in."

"I don't wanna sleep," I mumble, while I step in and blankly look around.

The room is smaller than our old one, but still much better than every other form of refuge we've seen these past months. It comes with a queen size bed, two bedside tables and this old, grayish armchair. The uninspiring fabric of the chair matches the curtains that frame the large sash window. The rear wall is largely taken up by a set of white Louvre doors. I can't be bothered to check what's in the wardrobe behind them.

When my eyes find Lexa's again, she frowns at me. "You're not tired? You seem... exhausted."

"I'm not," I sigh, "I'm... not anything, really."

She steps closer toward me. "I wish I knew how to help you," she says, brushing my hair from my face, "I wish I could take—"

She can't finish.

As I briskly push her against the wall, my lips are on hers before she can stop me, catching her—as well as myself—completely off guard. She doesn't kiss me back though.

"Clarke!" she exclaims instead, her voice skipping a beat as she's struggling herself free, "What are you doing?!"

"I... I don't know," I pant, already about to try again, "I just... I need you. I- I need..."

I lean forward, yet with her palm against my chest, she manages to keep me in place. With conflict and torment crossing her face, she tilts her head, shushing, "Hey, just... just breathe, okay. Breathe, baby, and tell me what's going on. Please. Tell me what you really need."

Swallowing hard, I do as she says, taking a deep, shaky breath, while trying to find the words.

"I don't... I can't... feel anymore," I mutter, almost to myself. "Ever since that first day, that first wave of pain, I'm like... numb." I lower my gaze. "It's like there's this huge lump of ice around my heart. Separating me from everything else. It's like... I know that the world is still turning, but I'm not really here. I don't feel it, I don't see it, everything is just..."

"Gray?"

I look up at her. "Yes! Everything is gray, and senseless, and... making me believe that... that I might be the one who's dead!"

"But you're not," Lexa quietly answers, nodding toward her hand on my chest. "Your heart wouldn't be racing if you were."

I shake my head. "I don't even know how to cry anymore. Which might sound like a win, but it's not. It's not, Lex, it's..." Without finishing, I promptly lean in again, muffling against her lips, "I need to feel again. You need to make me feel."

My kiss is rough, close to aggressive, which leaves her with no choice but to take it - reading and accepting my desperation for what it is. She lowers her hand, saves me from that one barrier between us, and I immediately press against her, my body firmly pinning hers. But it's still not enough.

"Please make me feel," I hear myself plead. My hands grab her hips, pull her into me. "Please..."

That's when she stops me.

"Hey, hey," she hushes softly, "I will. Okay? I will. But not like this." She takes my arm, and when she starts to lead me away from the wall, I let her.

We lie down on the bed, on top of the sheets; our eyes connected the whole time. "No anger, no hurry, alright? I got this," she whispers. "I got you."

I nod, and in that moment I realize I've never trusted anyone more than I trust her right now.

"Close your eyes," she tells me.

When I do, I am at the mercy of her touch. Of her lips, which very gently graze the skin of my neck. Of her warm breath that strikes my ear. Of the tip of her tongue that, after she lifts my shirt, caresses my nipple in the most delicate way.

She runs her hand over my exposed abdomen. A shiver runs through my body, as it always does when she touches my belly like this. Her lips follow, kissing my belly button.

In the sudden need to lose some clothes, I start to stir. Yet not wanting to seem impatient, I apologize right away. Lexa doesn't seem to mind, she just smiles against my skin. Crawling back up, her hands sneak underneath my top, pulling it over my head in one swift motion. Before I know it, her mouth is back on my chest - warm and wet, but as soft and tender as before.

It's different then I'm used to. The ardent eagerness we often find ourselves in comes with tensed muscles, pounding heartbeats, tightened jaws. With our bodies working like raging machines. This time though, my body actually manages to relax. To melt under her touch.

"There," she sighs, nuzzled into the valley of my breasts, noting the reaction she was going for - apparently. I open my eyes, right when she props herself up to kiss me. Our noses graze, and then her tongue brushes against mine. Slowly. Heavenly.

When we break apart, she meets my gaze from under heavy lids. "You okay?"

I just nod, my voice being long gone.

She smiles at me, warm and caring. "Good." And then, just like before, "Close your eyes."

The next moment I feel her hand sliding down from my waist toward my center. Instinctively, I part my legs, which is helping, yet not in the way I'm expecting.

As gradually as before, Lexa starts stroking my inner thighs; up, down, drawing patterns... not leaving an inch unattended. Except for that spot. For countless minutes, she touches me everywhere but there. Only when she switches sides, the playful scratch of her nail marks the lightest trail. It's so subtle and at the same time so delightfully excruciating, that it makes me bite my lip in anticipation, and shakily gasp when those moments—short seconds only—are there.

I'm almost disappointed when she starts to unbutton my jeans. Almost.

Lifting my butt, I help her pull my pants down, creating the space she needs. Miraculously, I manage to keep my eyes closed. With sharpened sensations, I'm rewarded with the magic of her touch.

"Your body is telling me so much," she breathes, her mouth close to my ear again, as she's dragging her lean fingers through my folds, "It's so alive. Just give it space. Let it tell you its story, share its feelings with you."

I close my eyes even tighter, bite my lips even harder, hold my breath as she finds my nub. The soft pressure of her fingertips is unmistakable. But I'm not feeling her just there.

I feel her everywhere.

From the curling of my toes to the burning of my ears. I feel my blood rise in my cheeks. My increasing heart rate. My hands getting restless, clutching the sheet beneath me.

I feel how my bottom lip now trembles with every stroke, how my breath loses control with every hit.

Her lips find my pulse point and when she sucks on it, I feel how my head starts to spin. Within seconds I can't tell anymore what's up or down, left or right. I feel like I'm twisting and turning through the galaxy, with bright stars all around me - stars I can actually see, even with my eyes open!

Lexa chooses that moment to speed up the pace of her fingers, bringing it all together. Toes, ears, cheeks, hands, lips, heart, breath... until my back arches, my muscles clench and a warm, familiar pleasure spreads through my entire body.

I'm not sure how long it takes me to return to earth, but as soon as I do, I turn to her.

She looks at me expectantly. "How do you feel?"

I don't answer her. I just stare into her eyes. They are green. So green. So deeply, incredibly, superbly green.

Yet before I can tell her that, they widen in panic. "Shit!" she cries out, "What did I do?!"

"Nothing," I laugh through my tears, "Everything."

Reaching out, she traces a single teardrop streaming down my cheek. "You mean...?"

"The ice," I nod, "You made it melt."

She smiles at me, briefly, but then narrows her eyes, hit by a new concern. "You will be in pain again. The next wave, it can hurt you at any moment."

"I know," I nod again, "but I've got you to get me through it."

Heaving the deepest sigh, she takes me into her arms, letting me rest my head on her chest. "I just wish I could bear it for you."

I close my eyes, finally allowing fatigue to set in. "Oh, but you are. You are, my love. It shows in everything that you do, in everything that you are."

Without letting go of me, Lexa pulls a blanket toward us, covering my bare body with it. "Just tell me if there's anything else I can do," she mumbles, ignoring everything I just said.

I open my eyes again, just in time to mirror her sheepish smile. She's as bad with praise as I am.

"I will," I promise. A yawn escapes me, but too distracted by my renewed look at our room, I'm not ready to give in yet. My eyes linger on the armchair. Unlike before, the sight of it doesn't leave me unaffected. "You can start by helping me set that chair on fire," I chuckle - almost to my own surprise, "Cause my god, that's by far the most hideous piece of furniture I've ever seen!"

... ...

Chapter Text

We're sitting around an oval table inside the small church that now serves as a council room. We being me, Clarke and Mom opposite Michonne, Aaron and Carol. The latter I've never met before, but I instantly feel that she matters a great deal to this place, and that she should not be underestimated.

"So you're back," Michonne states by way of opening.

"We are," I nod, "I hope that's okay?"

She doesn't answer me, which makes sense. We wouldn't sit here if things were that easy.

"You guys left rather abruptly last time," Aaron speaks up. "Which you're free to, of course, but it helps us to know your plans. Are you just passing through again, or intending to stay this time?"

"Honestly? We're still trying to figure that out," I admit. "But we felt very welcome before. And we do really like to settle down. Be part of a community again, make our contribution."

When he smiles at me, his soft eyes crinkle up at the corners. "Well, it's good to see you back."

Before I can thank him, Michonne turns to Mom. "I assume you're why they left in such a hurry?"

Mom squares her shoulders. "They came looking for me, yes. I'm Madison," she answers calmly, adding with a short nod to me, "Alicia's mother." She might claim to believe me, but she keeps sticking with Alicia, even if she's the only one and things might get confusing because of it. In fact, she seems to feel a need to emphasize it whenever she can, including this time.

Her response makes me brace myself for any questions. Perhaps even for an accusation of dishonesty or shadiness. But Michonne just continues to stare at Mom, intently and kind of intrigued.

Her sharp look is enough to put Mom on edge. With her chin up, she narrows her eyes. "We've got a problem?"

Michonne exhales, then slowly shakes her head. "No. No, it's nothing. You just... remind me of someone I used to know."

"In a good way?" Mom frowns.

Shrugging, Michonne makes a face. "If complicated can be good... sure."

Mom manages to let it go and with that, a hush falls over the room. That is until Aaron clears his throat, subtly signaling to move on. He looks at Clarke.

"I heard you suffered a tremendous loss recently. I'm really sorry."

Clarke mumbles a thank you, but otherwise remains quiet, and before I know it the subject has changed again.

"If we let you guys stay here, I would like to see you back in my security team," Michonne says to me, "You were a great asset, so I hope I can count on you again."

I quickly glance at Clarke. We've discussed this scenario beforehand—fortunately—so I already know she's fine with it, but I'm still glad when she answers my silent question with a reassuring blink.

"You can," I say, turning back to Michonne, "I'm happy to help."

Without a beat, Aaron takes over, as if it's simply time for his lines in their duet again - and showing me how well attuned these people are to each other.

"How about you?" he asks Clarke.

She shrugs. "Whatever you need. I can help Siddiq, if he's still around...?"

Her offer makes Carol, who I've hardly heard so far, lean forward. "Are you a doctor?"

Clarke shakes her head. "No, I'm not. But my..." Her hand finds mine underneath the table. "I'm not. But I've got some medical experience."

"Alright," Carol nods, "Siddiq is still here. Have a chat with him. See what he needs." And then, almost in one breath, with her eyes on Mom, "What's your background?"

"Let me guess," Michonne answers before Mom can, "You were some kind of attorney?"

A little to my surprise, Mom bursts out a snort. "In what way do I give you lawyer vibes?! No, I used to work at a high school, as a cou—"

"Great!" Carol lights up, "We just lost our teacher, you can take over."

"I was gonna say, I wasn't a teacher." Mom shoots up straight in her chair. I can tell she doesn't like where this is going. "I have never stood in front of a class, not even a day in my life. Really, I would be of much more use in your team," she goes on, swiftly looking from Carol back to Michonne.

Seemingly amused by Mom's plea, Michonne snickers.

"Nah, I think Carol's right, we can use you with those kids." She gives Mom another once-over and smirks. "Don't worry. You'll do fine."

To my relief, Mom is smart enough to just sigh and grumble—at least for now—and Aaron, taking her silence as a consent, seems more than willing to keep going.

"You brought more people, didn't you?" he asks me, "What can you tell us about them?"

"Well, I didn't bring them," I correct him, though with a polite smile, since I do actually like this guy. "But yes, some of our friends came along. Their names are Octavia, Bellamy, Echo and Niylah. They were all part of the group that defeated the Whisperers. They are all great people, the kind you want on your side. Other than that, I think you should meet them yourself."

Carol sits back in her chair, her arms crossed in front of her, and a pensive look dawning on her face.

"You're a leader, I can tell," she states as her eyes find mine, "Yet you're not leading them. How come?"

Her question makes me shift in my seat. I unconsciously squeeze Clarke's hand that I'm still holding. She answers my silent call by doing the same, and I softly exhale.

"I grew up believing that leaders can tell their people to go and kill for them. To die for them, even. And then I got to see all that first hand. I know what it means to be a leader. I also know it's not for me," I answer, quietly adding in my head, "Not anymore."

"You make it sound like it's a choice." Carol cocks her head a little, the corner of her lips curled in a faint, challenging smile. "In reality, most people become leaders without asking for it."

"Yes, I'm familiar with the concept," I answer, unable to suppress a small sigh. "Listen, all I'm saying is that our people—as in our friends, not our subjects!—are free. They can speak for themselves, and decide for themselves. So go and talk to them."

The woman raises her hands as if in surrender. "Alright. But if you won't be a leader, will you at least be a messenger? Let them know to come over tomorrow?"

"Sure," I smile, albeit somewhat forced, and before shifting my focus back on the others. "Does this mean we're in?"

"Oh honey, you were back in the moment Judith and Madi reunited and told us so," Michonne laughs, "Now those two are the real leaders to watch!"

... ...

"Madison sure didn't look happy about her new job."

Clarke's lips softly graze my hair, making me look up to meet her warm smile. Without letting go of me, she presses a kiss on my forehead - not the first one today. After the meeting, we took the rain as an excuse to retreat to our room. To our own little universe.

"No, she didn't. It's understandable though," I shrug, "She's got a lot more to offer than teaching some kids."

My reaction makes Clarke laugh. I don't know what's amusing her, but I welcome it no matter what. "This isn't about her being of any value to them!" she snorts, "This is about her wanting to keep an eye on you. Or me. Or all of us!"

I prop myself onto my elbow. "What do you mean?"

For a second I think I see conflict in her eyes. She blinks before I can tell for sure though.

"Clarke, come on! Tell me!"

"I mean..." She heaves a sigh, a deep one, one that tells me she doesn't want to go here. "I mean she doesn't trust us. She's just pretending."

I open my mouth to reply, to tell her wrong, but when I realize I can't, I close it again. Clarke gives a weak, apologizing shrug, then pulls me back in. Resting my cheek on her chest, I just stare ahead for a bit. The rhythm of her beating heart keeps me calm, as it always does.

"Well... at least she's here," I murmur at last.

"That's right," Clarke hums, hugging me even tighter. "She's here, and we'll prove her wrong. We are not to be feared."

We fall quiet, listening to the ticking of the rain against the window in the blissful warmth of each other's arms. We know we've got stuff to do, people to see, things to find out... but it all can wait.

"That thing you said, about being a leader," Clarke breaks our silence after some minutes, "It made me think of the time we'd just met. Of the you, back then, and your beliefs. How you tried to live by them. Even tried to teach me the same."

"You were so terribly stubborn!" Despite recalling my constant frustration with her, a soft chuckle falls of my lips.

"Yet you liked me," she reminds me. The raillery in her voice is hard to miss.

"No, I didn't," I tease right back, "I just thought you were hot."

The next moment I'm on my back, taken by surprise by Clarke's quick wrestling attack. As she pins me down, her eyes lock mine. "Liar!"

More laughter escapes me. "What, you were! You were brave, and determined, and smart - despite never agreeing with me. You challenged me, which was annoying as hell... but so damn hot."

Clarke, however, is not that easily fooled. "You liked me," she simply says again.

As she keeps a firm hold on me, we both refuse to break eye contact. Seconds go by. Six. Seven. Eight... Until I finally give in.

"I liked you," I admit, grinning. "I didn't want to. You confused me, unbalanced me. The way you saw me, for real... it scared me. But yes, silly me, I liked you."

A proud smirk flashes over her face. "I knew it."

"Oh, don't be smug," I snort, "I pretty much gave it away by kissing you!"

"Yeah," she smiles, "I remember that, too."

Going back to that moment, I feel my bliss fade. Clarke, noticing, releases the grip on my wrists. "You regret it?" she asks, still hoovering over me.

It's a question I asked myself many times, but never managed to answer.

I sit up, kind of forcing her to do the same, and take a deep breath. "I know I told Carol the same things about leadership as I used to tell you, and I get how that might have felt contradicting considering how we've been talking about those years. But when it comes to this aspect, it is my truth," I start, not knowing where I'm going yet, but feeling a sudden need to explain.

"Still?" Clarke frowns.

"Well, yeah," I confess. "I truly believe that I was able to achieve things as a Commander that were impossible for others, by acting—no, living—the way that I did. By sacrificing others when I had to, that's true, but also by giving up parts of myself. By living head over heart—though you were right, it never left me unaffected. I cared and so I suffered. Yet you need to know, it wasn't all bad. There were quite some upsides, too." Averting my eyes I spot some loose threads on my jeans, which I start to twist around my finger till it turns white. "I got to take care of my people, give them hope, and the chance of a better future. I got satisfaction from what I did, and pride."

"And you should! You were a great leader." Leaning forward, Clarke lays her hand on top of mine to stop my fiddling. I look up at her. "I always believed so. Even when I disagreed. And I understand the impossible position you were in. You don't have to give accountability for anything."

"That's not all though," I go on. "The concessions I made were also rewarded by a rich and often easy life. I was well taken care of and served at my beck and call from early age on. Over the years, I'd grown getting used to getting what I wanted."

"Until you kissed me?"

I nod. "I guess there was a lesson I needed to learn, but I'm not gonna lie," I shrug a little sheepishly, "I didn't enjoy it."

"You let me get away with it though," Clarke muses, "Not just then, but every time. While everyone else got..." She doesn't finish her sentence. She doesn't have to.

Flipping my hand, I entwine our fingers. "Like I said, you were different. You played with my head without intending to. And I think, in retrospect, that somewhere deep-down I knew that I needed that. That I needed to see."

"See what?"

My heart flutters, and my smile returns. "That there was more to life. Back then, I never got the chance to figure out how to reach it. Again, I lived that life for a reason. There was no way out. But right before the end, I at least got to realize that I wanted to. That if there was ever a chance—no matter how small—to follow my heart, I would pursue it."

Clarke mirrors my smile. "You got your someday."

"I did," I nod, "And I'm not wasting that given opportunity. I guess that's what I'm trying to say. That I stand by the way I dealt with my responsibilities. That I would do it again like that. But also that I won't. Because I'm not doing it at all, I won't go back. I don't have to. I do have a choice this time, and I choose this, I choose life, and I choose you, over every possible gain that leadership could bring. And no one can convince me otherwise."

When Clarke tilts her head, I catch the amused sparkle in her eyes. "Not even Carol?"

"Not even you!" I laugh, before taking a sudden dive, dragging her with me the way she just did. As she tries to frolic herself free, our giggles echo through the room. We keep writhing for dominance, with neither of us willing to give in, until we simply have to because we're both out of breath.

Still laughing, we simultaneously drop ourselves back into our pillows.

"Hey," Clarke pants, turning towards me. "I get it. And also, for what it's worth, I think you should never regret kissing me. I don't."

Rolling to my side as well, I pull a face, playfully thoughtful. "It was a pretty good kiss, wasn't it?"

"Oh, it was a very good kiss," Clarke chuckles.

When our hands subconsciously find each other in the little space between our bodies, we keep gazing at each other. Her grin grows, almost mischievously, and I just know she's up to something.

"Hey," she quietly says again.

"What?" I lazily smile.

She wiggles her brows. "Wanna kiss me like that again?"

I narrow my eyes. "You won't back away?"

This time she doesn't laugh. She just cups my face to draw me closer, whispering, "Never ever again."

And then her lips touch mine.

And as soon as they do, we're no longer in the past, nor in the future... we're just very much in the middle of right here, right now.

... ...

Chapter Text

There will be a moment when I can find the rightful words to describe how it feels when Lexa kisses me, when I can truly express all the praise her lips deserve. But right now is not that moment.

Because right now I'm not only overwhelmed by her touch, her taste, her smell... right now I'm also being brutally interrupted.

The loud banging on the door downstairs, followed by a familiar voice calling for us, makes us both sit up.

"Raven," we say in unison.

I sigh, deeply bummed-out, then whisper, as if she could actually hear us, "You think she knows we're home?"

The answer comes immediately, and from Raven herself.

"I know you're home!" she shouts through the mail slot, making me wonder if she does in fact have some kind of supersonic hearing.

Lexa chuckles. "Guess there's no hiding today." She gets up from the bed, extending her hand to me. "Let's see what she wants."

As soon as we open the front door, Raven comes crashing in; her hair wet and messy, and with yellow autumn leaves sticking to her shoes. Without bothering to wipe her feet, she makes her way to the living room, leaving us no other choice than to follow her.

"You two better have a damn good excuse for letting me wait in the rain like that," she grumbles over her shoulder, "Unless it's a naked one I don't want to hear about."

While Raven sinks down into the armchair, Lexa pulls me into her arms and starts smooching my neck, marking every inch with her kisses. "Want to see instead?" she teases our friend in between pecks.

Raven answers her with another moan, yet as she does so, I spot an amused twinkle in her eyes. "It's good to see you laugh, Princess," she smiles at me.

I hadn't even realized, but I guess I am laughing. And how can I not? Goofy Lexa is just impossible to resist.

Lexa sits down on the couch, pulling me with her until I land on her lap. "To what do we owe the visit?" she grins, still giddy.

"I've got your test results," Raven answers, "Is your mother around?"

Turning her head, her eyes now on the door across the room, Lexa shrugs in ignorance. "She might be in the kitchen. Her new job assignment got her all cranky. And believe it or not, but cooking soothes her." And then, a little louder, "Mom!?"

"Well, haven't we all been there?" Raven sighs.

Another giggle escapes me. "How's that garden going?"

She rolls her eyes. "The joy of growing lettuce is still beyond me. I'm making some progress with Daryl though. By now he at least lets me look at his bike, and while scavenging we've started collecting mechanical parts to build something... I don't know... useful."

Before I can say anything in return, the kitchen door opens.

"You bellowed?" Madison asks Lexa. It's only then that she notices our company. "Hi... Raven, right?" Drying her hands with a tea towel, she steps closer. "You're the whiz kid. The one who drew our blood."

Raven nods. "I took a very close look at it, together with Eugene — Dr. Porter, that is." Her gaze moves back to me. "Shouldn't Madi be here for this?"

I shake my head. "She's with Judith and some other kids. Finally having some fun, or so I hope."

Right before Madison joins our little circle around the table, I slide off Lexa's lap into the spot next to her. Despite her obvious suspicion, I think we're good, Madison and I, but she's still my kind-of mother-in-law. And call me crazy, but I like her to think higher of me than the clingy girlfriend.

Madison leans forward, elbows on her knees, towel still in her hands. "So?"

Raven takes a deep breath. All eyes are on her now.

"Just like last time," she starts, "we found clear evidence that Lexa and Madi are related. They are full siblings, sharing fifty percent DNA."

"A number with multiple conclusions. Parents and their children share fifty percent too," Madison shrugs, seemingly unimpressed - though I don't buy the act.

Knowing instantly what her mother is implying, Lexa sighs in frustration. "Mom, she's not my child! There's no way, and you know it."

"Well, I know she can't be Alicia's, considering her age and some simple math," Madison goes on without blinking, "But that doesn't rule out everyone, does it?" She tilts her head, too defying for my liking. Yet I manage to bite my tongue. "What about Lexa?"

Lexa leans forward, mirroring her mother's demeanor.

"Lexa," she answers as composed as possible, "doesn't sleep with men."

Her reaction makes Raven snort, only to apologize straight away - or well, sort of. I honestly don't care if she means it though, I'm just glad she's got their attention again.

"What else?" Madison asks her.

"We can also rule out any relationship between Madi and you," Raven goes on, "The two of you share no DNA whatsoever."

"Big surprise!" Madison exclaims sarcastically.

Raven shakes her head. "No," she agrees, "We didn't expect to find anything there, but we had reason to look into it anyway."

"How come?" Lexa asks her.

Shifting to the edge of her seat, Raven clears her throat. "Okay, here's were things get complicated. Or unexplainable, if I'm completely honest."

"Why don't you try anyway?" I calmly ask her before any of the others can, feeling I'm the only one who's still keeping it together. To be sure Raven knows we do appreciate her help, I show her an extra smile.

"I will," she nods, "You have to understand though that we're far from fully equipped, or specialized in this field. We have to work with limited facts and evidence. Everything else is theory, logic and hypothesis."

Both Lexa and Madison breathe in deeply, as if to collect themselves, before giving Raven the floor. They're trying, which I guess at this point is all we can ask.

"Alright," Raven moves on, "so we compared your DNA as well, like you asked. Knowing what you'd like it to say, I'm sorry that I have to tell you there was no match. Zero percent."

The moment her words are out, I look at Madison - bracing myself for her reaction. I can see how she clenches the towel, turning her knuckles white, while she slowly shakes her head. "You're wrong," she mutters.

"I'm not," Raven quietly tells her, "But I'm also not finished."

She takes a marker from her pocket, looks around—presumably in search for some piece of paper—then rolls up her sleeve when she can't find any. Without further hesitation she draws a spiral figure on the suntanned skin of her forearm.

"Okay, I'm not the artist here, so bear with me. Madison, imagine this being your DNA. It's... like a double helix with a ladder within. Those steps on the ladder contain any of the four bases that make up for your DNA. They are what make you you, so to say. And with that, they are the focus of our research."

"And they differ from mine?" Lexa asks, her voice suddenly fragile. I know she knows the answer, she's known for weeks now, but the confirmation must still hurt her. This isn't just hard for Madison.

Raven nods again. "Completely. But..."

As she starts drawing another line, one right behind the other, we all stare at her in anticipation, collectively holding our breaths.

"When we took a better look at the construction itself, we noticed some kind of... shadow. See, these strands holding the ladder together, they're made of deoxyribose and phosphate backbone. They—"

"Raven, you're losing me!" Lexa cries out, right before I can.

"I'm sorry," Raven mumbles, though I bet she secretly loves outsmarting us all. She points at her drawing again. "These two backbones, they're supposed to look the same, but in this case we spotted a slight difference. Right here. On this one, let's call it Helix A, we found some unfamiliar material attached that's not supposed to be there, and that's nowhere to be found on Helix B. And that's not all. It also turned out to be... foreign."

Madison shoots forward again. "What does that mean?!"

"I think it means it's not yours," I quietly speak up, looking at Raven. "Right?"

"That's right." Her focus shifts back to Madison. "They're human cells, don't worry about that, they're just not uhm... created by your body. My guess would be that they are somehow adopted by it."

"Your guess?!" Madison cries out.

Closing her eyes for a short second, Raven leans back in her chair. "My primal hypothesis," she then corrects herself. "Again, this is new matter to us, too. I'm not unsure about the facts though, I know what I've seen."

Feeling the need to show my support, I shift a little closer towards her. "Hey, we're not questioning you. And we know this whole situation is surreal. We're just trying to follow your thoughts," I attempt to help her out. "What makes you think that this... whatever it is... isn't Madison's?"

"Because it happens to contain traces of DNA. Lexa's DNA, to be specific. One hundred percent."

This revelation of her discovery makes us all gasp, and Lexa especially.

"Wait, that... No... A hundred percent means identical twins," she blinks in bewilderment. "That's just absurd!"

"Well, it could also mean clones," Raven shrugs, only to quickly raise her hands when she catches the look both Clark women throw at her, "No, no, I'm just... sorry, bad joke! In this case, it means neither. As I said before, these traces are found on the backbone, not on the ladder. We are not talking genetics here."

Madison stands up, a wash of emotions crossing her face. "What are we talking, then?!"

"Proof," Raven simply answers. "Lexa—or, in this case Alicia—left proof behind that she was there. That you carried her."

"You think I need proof of that?!" Madison exclaims.

Knowing better, no one answers her, and a sudden, deafening silence falls upon us.

That's when Lexa gets up as well. Yet as she walks over to her mother, Madison turns away from her, back towards Raven.

"Is that all?"

Raven clears her throat again. "Well, actually..."

With another loud groan, Madison shakes her head in disbelief. However, the moment Lexa gently rests her hand on her mother's shoulder, she simmers down a bit - or at least enough to actually see her daughter again.

"This pains me too, Mom. It's okay to be upset. But we've come this far now. Just let her finish."

Madison stares at her for a second, then, after a hard swallow, nods at Raven.

"We found a second alteration in your blood," Raven, now back on the edge of her seat, reveals, "Which we believe is a direct result from the first one. In other words: caused by those traces left behind by Lexa - or fetus Alicia. Because it didn't affect your DNA qualities, we overlooked it at first. Plus, well, for some reason you can't literally see it - which is a first."

Trying to follow, I squint my eyes. "Raven, where are you going with this?"

Raven looks up, glancing at Madison, then Lexa, before turning back to me. When she answers my question, her tone is dead serious.

"We are almost certain that Madison is—or has become—a Nightblood."

Once again we are left dumbfounded. Just like the others, I stare at her with open mouth. Raven uses our speechlessness to keep talking.

"We already established that Lexa and Alicia are identical, head to toe, with—as far as we know—only one remarkable exception: unlike Lexa, Alicia isn't an original Nightblood. However, her cell material that we found in Madison's blood shows us the exact formula - the same we used when creating the vaccine. It's like baby Lexa, or Alicia, somehow managed to pass it on to Madison, modify her mother's original anatomical structure and in this way renounced it from herself."

As she tries her best to explain, I realize I can't keep up anymore. My head is spinning from all this information, and the constant twists and turns that come with it, and her words simply don't reach me anymore.

Yet before I can tell her that, Madison catches us all off guard by suddenly storming out of the room, huffing and without a word, only to return within the same breath - as if changing her mind midway through.

She walks straight up to Lexa, as if Raven and I aren't even here, stopping right in front of her.

"How much more crap do they have to sell you, Alicia? What do they want from you?!"

"They? Wh-What do you mean, they?!" Lexa stammers, taken aback by her mother's outburst. Madison goes on full throttle though, pointing at us, and then with one big wave at pretty much the entire universe.

"They! Them, all of these people. I don't know! Those who need you to believe all this!"

Lexa tilts her head, her eyes dark and narrowed with worry. "Mom, I don't need to believe any of this. I just do. And I thought, or hoped at least, that you did too."

"How can I?!" Madison questions, pleading almost, "How can you? While these things, these... history tales and time travel nonsense and science bullshit and... and... everything they want to convince you of, are so, so clearly beyond the impossible."

"They're not," Lexa says, slowly shaking her head, "They are beyond the imaginary. There's a difference."

Near despair, Madison throws her hands up. "Oh please, enlighten me!"

For some inexplicable reason I choose this moment to step forward.

"My first night on the ground, I found myself in a glowing forest I didn't know existed. I can still describe it in detail, but I know it's too incredible for the human mind - and thus impossible to believe if you can't let yourself imagine the possibility."

"I am trained as a mechanic," Raven's voice comes from behind me, "but encountered an AI, then froze myself to death. Ever since, I understand quantum physics without ever reading a book about it. Something to be called unthinkable, yet it happened... it's true. Thus not impossible."

Heaving another sigh, Madison crosses her arms. "That's all—"

"I'm killed by a bullet," Lexa cuts her off, "I died in Clarke's arms. Now I wake up in them every morning. How can I ever think of anything being improbable if that's possible. I'm not claiming it's all easy to imagine, I just want you to be open to it."

"No," Madison answers, "You want me to trust whichever insane story you all throw at me. Alicia, I can't do that!"

"You mean you can't trust me?"

This time it's Madison who shakes her head. "That's not what you're asking. You're asking me to trust you to trust them. Blindly!"

Lexa averts her eyes. Her mother is right. She knows it, and so do we.

Yet just when I think we've reached a stalemate, Madison goes on - checkmating Lexa in what will soon turn out to be the worst way possible: by giving in.

"Okay," she says after what feels like minutes of silence, and suddenly remarkably calm, "Let's do it. Let's trust you on this. If you want me to follow you, to believe your friends, and their crazy science, I will."

Looking up again, Lexa's eyes find those of her mother. The crease between her brows tells me she's just as alarmed as I am.

"Just like that?"

"Do you have any reason to question Raven's theory?" Madison answers her daughter's question with one of her own, "Or to doubt her integrity?"

"I don't," Lexa answers warily.

"Then let's prove all of you right." She spins on her heels, towards the hallway. "If I'm indeed a Nightblood, than I should be protected, right? Just like you guys. So I might as well get bitten."

She's at the front door before I know it, ignoring the heavy weather when she opens it to step outside.

"Mom, stop!" Lexa calls, finally running after her. I follow her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, showing me the panic in her eyes. "She'll do it, Clarke. I know her!"

Once outside we see how Madison makes her way towards the gate, her determination clearly evident in her long strides.

"Mom!" Lexa cries again.

Without actually stopping, Madison turns around.

"To trust or not to trust, Alicia," she answers, her voice barely audible above the strong wind, "that's the question. So you tell me... can I go on?"

... ...

Chapter Text

She can't.

Even though I believe—I know—Raven is right about her discovery and the meaning of it, Mom can't go on. It's too big a risk.

But if I tell her that, we're done. She'll take it as prove, use my doubt against me. And that alone would be enough for her, enough to do everything in her power to get me away from those we now evidently can't trust.

In her all-consuming need to protect me, she might even become a danger to them.

Searching for an answer that isn't there, my lips part, but no words come out.

"Alright then," Mom nods resolutely, already turning away again.

For the next moment I stand frozen to the ground, not able to take another step; all I can do is watch the distance between us grow bigger and bigger. I hardly register the rain hitting my face, or the lightning ripping the sky in the distance.

Not until Clarke pulls me back with her voice, spurring me on from right beside me.

"Lexa, go!! Stop her! She'll hurt herself!"

I face her. Doesn't she realize that if I do, if I stop her, there's only one other outcome? That Mom will hurt her instead?

Whether she does or not though, Clarke doesn't seem to care. Telling me one more time to hurry, she firmly pushes me toward the gate.

Mom is already on the other side of the wall, about twenty yards from the safe grounds, when I finally manage to catch up.

"Mom, please," I beg her again, out of breath from the sprint as well as the fear, "Don't!"

"It's Madison," she says, fixing her eyes on the line of dense trees, but standing still at last.

"W-what?"

She shrugs. "I'm just your surrogate mother, right? So Madison will do."

I gasp, rattled by the cold shoulder, but before I can say anything in return, she puts two fingers into her mouth and blows a long, shrill whistle. A sound loud enough to attract anything near us, dead or alive.

With my panic now rising to the max, I swiftly step in front of her and grab her by the shoulders, shaking her to her senses. "What are you doing?! You're getting yourself killed!"

"How?" she snarls back as she wriggles herself loose from my grasp, "I'm protected, aren't I?" She whistles again, challenging whatever's out there. Me included.

"Not from an entire herd!" I cry out, "And even if you get away with only one bite, it will still make you very sick!"

Mom opens her mouth to fight me again, yet right then a well-aimed arrow lands only two inches away from her feet. It makes us both look up at the wall.

"One more whistle and it will be your last one ever!" Daryl shouts his unmistakable warning, his drawn crossbow still aimed at Mom.

I know he's serious. He's got to protect his people.

"Please, listen to him, come back inside. You're putting everyone in danger, and he can't... he can't let that happen." As I turn back to her, my pleading eyes finds hers again. And then I see them. Tears, mixed up with the raindrops falling on her face.

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. Don't you see that? With Nick and you both gone, I've got nothing left to lose."

"Gone?!" I exclaim, risking one of Daryl's arrows between my shoulder blades, "I'm right here!"

Closing her eyes for a second, Mom takes a deep, shaky breath, then squares her back. "No," she states, her voice low, steady and way too familiar, "I don't know who you are. Maybe this Lexa girl you seem to believe in - or some new version of her. But you're not my Alicia. You're not my child."

"Are you kidding me?!?" I throw my hands in the air, my fear instantly replaced by anger and disbelief. "You're disowning me because of some DNA crap? After raising me, after everything we've been through?!" Panting heavily, I stumble backwards - away from her, and away from her rejection. "You know what? Fine! If I can't be your daughter anymore, then go. Leave! Please, just go—"

"Enough!!"

Clarke's sudden voice makes me jump, though without lowering my hand; my trembling finger still pointing toward the woods. Toward nowhere, for all I care.

As she steps in between us, she places her hand on top of mine, forcing it down with some effort. "You are both this close to getting us kicked out, if not killed," she berates us with judging eyes, "And you're both idiots."

Mom takes a sharp breath, one that speaks volumes, and narrows her eyes. "Excuse me?!"

"You're willing to give up on each other while you don't have to, while you're both literally standing here. Being able to see each other, hold each other, argue and make up with each other," Clarke rants, unimpressed by Mom's demeanor or my protest. "Do you have any idea what I'd do for just any of that? To even get one minute with my mother?"

I inhale, about to react, but she raises her hand.

"I'm not done. You—" she goes on, looking straight at me, "—you really wanna go down that road again? Hide behind your feelings, sending your own mother off rather than fight through the pain she's causing you? Haven't you lost enough that way? And you—" she spins on her heels, facing Mom, "—I get that you've got a lot to process. But how do you think this must be for Alicia? Have you ever considered that this must be way harder for her? And that putting a knife to her throat like this won't help either of you?"

"Incoming!"

Daryl's voice cuts through the air, followed by another arrow, but none of us moves. At the edge of the forest, a walker falls face down into the mud, the arrow in his eye finding its way through because of it, till it reappears from the back of his head.

"You asked for answers, Madison. You got them. Now it's up to you. You can believe them, and deal with a new reality, or ridicule them, and decide we're all crazy... or frauds. But whatever you choose, it won't change your past. It won't change who you are to each other. And in my book, that's something worth fighting for, not against."

And with that statement Clarke steps aside, leaving us eye to eye again, yet both speechless. Especially when she suddenly pulls her knife out and throws it at a second approaching walker.

Strike!

Without another word, Clarke turns away from us, making her way back to the gate. However, when she's almost there, she looks at Mom one more time.

"You keep asking about my intentions. Wondering what it is I want from your daughter," she says, calmer than before and with the lightest shrug rolling of her shoulder. "It's simple, really. I just want to love her."

... ...

Even though it's my own room, I knock on the door before entering it. Clarke turns to me as soon as I cross the threshold; stripped down to her underwear with a pile of wet clothes at her feet.

"I'm sorry," she says before I can, and absolutely needless.

I rush toward her, taking her hand in mine. "Don't be," I breathe, "You were right. So right."

Shaking her head, she scoffs. "Ha! I bet Madison disagrees."

"Well, actually..."

When Clarke tilts her head in surprise, multiple droplets hit the floor. "She came back with you?"

"After we convinced Daryl she's not some lunatic... but yeah," I chuckle.

She doesn't laugh along. Instead, she sighs, averting her eyes, "You scared me."

"I scared you? What about my mom? She's the one who went batshit crazy!"

"Yes," Clarke nods, "But you were the one willing to give up on her. On the two of you. When she hurt you..." She falls quiet, and I feel shame creeping up on me.

Not knowing what to say, or where to look, I take the towel from the bed and start drying her hair - relieved that she lets me.

"Do you still believe it?" Clarke asks, warily, and hidden from behind the towel, "When it comes down to it, do you still think love is weakness?"

I let her question sink in, before I answer her.

"I believe love makes us vulnerable. I believe it can cause us harm in a way no weapon can. When my mom said I wasn't her daughter anymore, it..." I swallow. "Let's just say I almost preferred the pain from the bullet that killed me." Lowering the towel, I force myself to look at her. "No, I don't believe love is weakness. I believe it strengthens us, keeps us going. But..."

Without breaking our gaze, Clarke takes the towel from my hands. "But?"

"But my instincts keep telling me something else. You know, fight or flight. I wish it was any different, but when I'm... when I feel hurt like that..."

"...you flight." There's no judgement in her voice. And when she helps me out of my drenched shirt and wraps the towel around my shoulders, she's as tender as ever.

"I don't want to," I shrug, "But it's like I'm wired that way. Like I don't have a choice."

Clarke kneels down to take off my shoes. "It's your shield, your protection," she nods, "I get it. It's what comes after that matters."

"You," I tell her, pulling her back to her feet, "You come after. Telling me I'm an idiot - to start with. And rightly so."

As she undoes my belt and starts to fumble at the button of my wet, sticky jeans, I can hardly hear her mumbling reply. I cup her cheek to make her see me. "What'd you say?"

"Am I enough?" Clarke asks again, a little louder this time.

"Oh my love, you're more than enough!" I cry out, " So much more! One look at you, one reminder of you can calm me down... keep me sane. Don't you see you've already done so a thousand times? Saved me over and over...?"

She nods, just slightly, right when a shiver runs down her spine. I step closer to embrace her, even when I'm not sure if it's the cold or the emotions that get to her - probably both. With my lips now close to her ear, I whisper, "I'm sorry for scaring you." I kiss her temple. "And I'm already sorry for the next time. But please believe me, I'm not going anywhere."

"I do," she sighs, "I believe you." Holding on to me tightly, Clarke rests her head on my shoulder. For a while, we just stand like that, in the middle of our room, with our arms around each other.

"So how about you and your mom?" she asks at last. "Did you figure it out?"

A heavy sigh escapes me. "No, not really. But we managed to agree that it's a lot, and that we need some time. To process, like you said. So we put a pin in it. Talk some more in a few days."

She raises an eyebrow, studying me. "How do you feel about that?"

"Okay, I guess," I answer truthfully, "For now I'm just glad that everyone is alright. And safe. But most of all..."

"What?" She cocks her head again.

"Most of all I'm just so cold!"

Bursting out laughing, Clarke takes my hand. "Well, you're in luck," she winks, directing me toward the door. "By the sound of it, the shower is free. And I happen to know it's hot. And it's got our names on it."

Now I'm the one to lift my brows. "Our?!"

"What do you think?" she grins over her shoulder, "You're not the only one going nowhere!"

... ...

Chapter Text

I can't believe I'm back here. In school. To be surrounded by kids again, after all these years. Allthough, surrounded? We're talking a dozen max, per age group. Classes I can handle, or so I tell myself as I stand in front of a handful of teenagers who all gaze back at me as one.

Of course though, there's always one exception.

As I'm doing my best to tell them everything I know about the Second World War, I keep catching her being distracted. It's not like she's completely zoomed out, but her mind is clearly elsewhere.

"Madi?" I ask for the third time, interrupting myself once again, "Madi, you're still with us?"

I feel like I'm talking to a wall. Counseling teens I can do. Raising them, well, I'd like to believe I managed that, too. But teaching them? That's for sure a whole other level.

Not giving a single reaction, Madi keeps staring at the map on the wall. It's an old one of Virginia and its neighbouring states; anything but accurate these days, but it does help in giving the room a bit of classroom vibe, which I reckon is its main purpose.

"Madi!" I call again.

Nothing.

Well, not nothing. She does push her chair back and stands up, all without a word.

Knowing how much she wants to be out there, wants to scavenge or explore, I expect her to simply leave the room, but it's not the door that draws her. It's the map.

"Alright, last warning," I tell her, noting how the other kids are getting restless by Madi's restive behavior - to make things worse. I gesture to them that it's all under control and they pull a collective face that it's clearly not.

Meanwhile, Madi studies the map with an intensity and fascination I haven't seen during any English, math or history lesson. With her face only ten inches away from it, she raises her hand, covering part of our former capital's name with one finger. Her eyes narrow.

Then her gaze as well as her finger moves a little to the left. "Shenandoah," she reads out loud like we're not even here, before repeating her former action: blocking half of the name with the tip of her finger.

I have no idea what's going on in her head, but it's like I can see the wheels turning. She's not deliberately ignoring me, she really doesn't hear me.

Making my way over to her, I quietly count to ten, reminding myself over and over to "connect before you correct".

"Madi," I try again, making sure she actually sees me this time, "We were talking about Europe. Which isn't on this map. Can you please return to your seat? We can talk about Virginia later, if you have any questions."

Madi doesn't face me. Instead she draws an imaginary line between Washington and the national park. "What's the distance between these two places?"

Okay, now she is ignoring me. And I'm officially losing my patience.

"I said later, Madi! Now sit down and—"

"Why do we need to know names of countries we'll never visit!?" she cuts me off, though—on the plus side—with her eyes finally on mine again. "What's the use of knowing what happened a hundred years ago? Of learning how to make calculations we'll never use? Or to spell eight-syllable words? Clarke already taught me all the English I need."

"She's not wrong," Judith agrees from right behind me.

Heaving a deep sigh, I turn toward the other girl. "She is," I tell her, before looking back at Madi, "I'm sorry, but you are."

She looks at me like every frustrated, heavily misunderstood teen in history has ever looked at any teacher, and every teen in the future—however that might look like—probably will. Despite my own frustration, a chuckle escapes me. "I get it, though. How pointless it must feel at times."

With my hand on her shoulder, I gently direct her back to her seat, then focus on the entire class again.

"The world might seem smaller and less complicated than it used to be, but we're still using math in everyday life. When we're trading, cooking, farming. And don't forget traveling. That distance Madi just asked me about. To know how many miles we're talking about, and how many hours that would take us, that's math. And for those more difficult formulas," I quickly add, before Madi can argue me again, "Just ask Raven. Its those who manage to understand them who can ultimately make a difference in this world. Cure it maybe, from... whatever threatens us."

I lean back against the desk.

"You're right. Clarke has taught you a lot already - way more than just English. And so did Michonne, Aaron... all of your parents." My glance moves from one kid to the other. "But they are the ones who want more for you. Who asked me to expand your world, to teach you that there's more than just survival."

"By sharing horror stories about some ancient war?" Gracie sighs. She's young. I estimate her to be around eight years old, by far the baby of this group. Yet she's also bright, bright enough to keep up. "Like I wasn't born in one."

Judith, sitting right next to her, nods in agreement. "We know well enough how it all looks like, we had to live through war - for years."

"Imagine leading it," Madi mumbles, quietly, but loud enough for me to pick up on, and with her eyes drifting back to that map on the wall.

Once again affected by the reality these kids have to live in, I close my eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of my nose as I take the deepest breath possible. I pray to God that I'm back at Paul R. Williams, back in time - before the world went to hell - when I slowly open them again... but of course nothing happened. I'm still here, facing these post-apocalyptic children who will never run home after school to waste their afternoon watching MTV.

Blowing out my cheeks, I huff.

"I get that history doesn't seem that important. That you've got enough on your plate managing just today. And I hate that you all got to experience these bad parts in your young lives already."

"Then why bother us with it?" Judith grumbles.

I hop onto the desk, my legs dangling off the edge.

"Because learning about the past, about the choices people made, the patterns that are always there—foreshadowing conflict and domination, no matter what time we live in—should help avoiding all that, should prevent us from making the same mistakes."

"If that's the case, then I know some people who could have used an extra lesson," some boy who's name I keep forgetting remarks.

With my lips pressed together, I just nod. There's no disagreeing on this.

For a moment we all fall silent, which is a first. Yet then Gracie abruptly and dramatically turns the page of the book in front of her, making the entire class look at her as a long sigh falls from her lips.

"So, back to D-Day then?"

"No," I shake my head, "You kids are right. You've got your own history too. Let's start there."

... ...

Not willing to go inside yet, I plop myself down on the steps of our veranda. The soft autumn sun warms my exposed skin. It's nice, but not enough to help me relax and leave this day behind me. I inhale, hold for as long as possible, then loudly let go again.

"Tough day?"

Startled by the sudden voice, I look over my shoulder. It's Alicia, slumping down on the porch swing. Was she there all along?

"Teens," I sigh by way of answer, drawing an amused laugh from her.

She tilts her chin. "Any in particular?"

"Yes," I answer truthfully, "Madi."

"Madi?" Squinting her eyes, Alicia frowns deeply. "What did she do?"

I turn toward her, instantly missing the sunrays on my face. "She got distracted all the time, disturbed me, and the rest of the—"

"Come on, give her some slack," Alicia cries out before I can finish, "She's never been in school, she's got no clue how it works."

"No," I tell her wrong, "That's not it. She's challenging me."

As I start to rummage through my bag, Alicia sits up. "What makes you think that?"

"I gave them an assignment, to write down their own story. Their personal history. So that they can share that with each other and learn from it." Finally finding what I was looking for, I pull out a somewhat wrinkled sheet of paper. "This is what Madi wrote - and bear with me for having no idea how to pronounce any of this." I clear my throat, then start to read: "Ai laik Madi kom Louwoda Kliron Kru. Ai nomon en nontu don wan op kos Praimfaya." I look up at Alicia again. "She wrote a page full of this jibber-jabber! Now you tell me this isn't her way of testing me?"

Alicia shakes her head. "It's not. And it's not jibber-jabber. It's Trigedasleng." She gets up, makes her way over to me and takes the essay from my hand. "My name is Madi from the Shallow Valley clan. My mother and father were killed by the Death Wave," she translates out loud, or so it seems.

I raise my brows. "You're telling me you can read this?"

"Yes," she shrugs, handing the piece of paper back to me. "It's in our language."

Their language. Here we go again.

I stare down at Madi's writing. None of the words make sense to me, except for some names I now recognize here and there, albeit in different spelling then I imagined. I spot my own name too, toward the end, which—I have to admit—does make me curious.

"How do I know this isn't part of your... your..."

"Our what? Our scam?" Alicia says mockingly. "I don't know. I honestly have no idea what to say anymore to help you, to make you see differently." She drops back onto the swing, pulls her knees up to her chin and nods toward the piece of paper in my hands. "But maybe Madi can?"

Pensively, I bite my lips. I'm really not in the mood to be convinced again, but I also can't deny that I'm intrigued by the kid and dying to know what she's got to say.

The soon I get up, Alicia holds up her hand, reaching out for Madi's work. I might doubt her, but she sure knows me.

"Alright," I sigh, almost in surrender, as I'm handing it over again, "I'm listening."

And then Alicia starts to read; slowly, as she's translating at the same time, but steadily.

My name is Madi from the Shallow Valley clan. My mother and father were killed by the Death Wave. If you ask me who I am, that's where my story begins. With these two people, and with losing them. I was very young when they died. That's why I don't remember them well. But I know they loved me and always did everything to protect me.

After I lost my parents, I was all alone in the world. Until I found Clarke. First I was scared, I didn't know if I could trust her. That's why I led her into my bear trap. But instead of getting angry with me, she started to take care of me. Clarke taught me many things, like reading and farming, but most of all, she taught me how family goes beyond blood. She might not be my real mother, but in her actions, her love, her devotion, she is. "Family looks out for each other," she once told me, and she has done exactly that every single day.

Those years with Clarke were like the second chapter of my life. A quiet and peaceful time, with just the two of us in Doah, our own little paradise in the midst of a ruined, desolated world. We didn't had much, but we had each other. We had enough.

And then the others came.

They came from the sky and they came from the ground, and they all wanted the valley, and they all wanted our village. And so, in the need to protect our home, we suddenly found ourselves in the middle of war. A war in which it was hard to tell who was our enemy and who was our ally, even for Clarke, until ultimately we found our people... and with it, our army.

It didn't take long before I became their Commander, despite my young age. Soon after, guided by the great ones before me—by Lexa!—I was the one who led 'Wonkru' to victory.

But it didn't matter.

Because it was all for nothing. We might have defeated the enemy, but we couldn't protect our home. In the end, there's no winning from Damocles. To save ourselves from the bomb, all we could do was run. We lost our entire world before our eyes. And if it hadn't been for our friends, for Monty and Harper, my story would have ended right there... lost in space.

It didn't. They managed to give me yet another chapter, which is this one. Because of them, we ended up here. Almost four moon cycles ago. In this whole new world, one that is so different and yet so very the same. One that is full of danger, but doesn't scare me. That once again makes us start over from scratch... but not with nothing. I still have my friends, and even made some more along the way. Strand, Judith, Jaime. And most importantly, I still have Clarke. I still have my family - which is growing, too. We found Lexa. And we found you, Madison.

We all belong. We do. And I'm so glad for that. Family goes beyond blood. I truly believe that.

Anyway, you asked for my story. This is it. This is what makes me "me". Madi kom Louwoda Kliron Kru. I'm sorry that I had to tell you in Trig. I'm not sure which parts I'm allowed to share in class. But I do want you to know me, to know us. So I trust my Lexa, your Alicia, to help us out. (She did, didn't she?)

And that our truth is safe with you.

When Alicia lowers the essay in her hands, her eyes look for mine.

"Seems to me that she aced it," she states casually. The small smile curling her lips shows pride, with a hint of amusement.

I have no reply. None.

"Madi is special," Alicia goes on when I stay quiet. "She's different than any kid you know. For one thing, she doesn't lie. She's the most honest person I've ever met. Most loyal, too."

I nod, though I don't know why. I guess I just... need a minute.

Alicia gets up again. "I know I'm no Victor Strand, but if you want I can find us some booze and we can sit next to each other and stare ahead in silence for a while?"

I exhale, which helps, and smile back at her. "I'd like that."

"Good," she says, already moving toward the door, "Wait here."

Doing as told, I watch her leave, yet before she disappears out of sight, I call after her. She stops and turns.

"Yeah?"

"There's this area a few days west of here," I tell her, for no other reason than wanting to. "It's called Shenandoah. I'm not sure, but... something tells me it might interest you."

... ...

Chapter Text

As I close the door behind me and walk down the garden path, I make sure to keep the rolled-up papers tightly tucked underneath my arm, preventing the wind from blowing them away, all while thanking the heavens above me that at least it's dry for a change. Of course, instead of checking the sky, I should just look ahead, especially once reaching the sidewalk. But that thought only hits me when I run into a passerby - literally, and with quite a bang.

"Shit, sorry," I mutter, trying my best to keep my backward stumble from turning into an embarrassing trip and fall.

Her quick response comes with a reassuring chuckle. "That's alright. We're still standing… sort of."

I look up. It's Rosita.

I haven't seen her since we got back. When I think of it, I haven't seen her since they got back, after their four day expedition. After—

I swallow, then clear my throat, even though there's nothing there. "It's you," I say at last, which is as pointless as it sounds.

"It's me," she simply answers.

Our eyes lock for a second or two, before I nod. "Alright then... See you around."

But apparently it is not that easy.

"Clarke, wait," Rosita calls the moment I turn around. "I- I hoped we could talk."

I face her again, unable to suppress the sigh that's been rising in my chest. "I guess I'm supposed to ask you what about," I answer her, fighting my reluctance, "but I really don't want to hear you say her name."

"I'm sorry," she says. She doesn't blink, does not look away. Her body doesn't flinch, her shoulders don't hunch; she doesn't move a muscle. But I believe her, not despite, but because of her strong demeanor. Still, I need to ask. Need to know.

"Sorry for what, exactly?" If it wasn't for that roll of papers, I'd cross my arms. I raise my chin instead.

Rosita runs her hand through her hair; a subconscious, meaningless gesture, but an annoying one nonetheless, as it happens to enhance her natural beauty even more. I swiftly focus on the small, disfiguring scar crossing her cheek, which only helps for like a second; then it mainly reminds me that she's probably been through a lot, too.

"I crossed the line. I knew about you, about the two of you. I would lie if I claimed I didn't." She takes a step closer, her eyes still on mine. I force myself to look back. "I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for causing harm. And for causing pain."

A sudden twitch in my stomach makes me narrow my eyes. "Did she talk to you about that? About her and me?" Before Rosita can even answer, I decide to kill Lexa after all, since the whole issue—even more than her kissing someone else—was her not talking to me anymore.

Rosita saves a life by shaking her head though. "No, she didn't. She never really shared anything, now that I think of it. Not before and definitely not…" Now she's the one to swallow. "Not after."

"So what do you know about our pain?"

"About yours? Not much," she shrugs, "But I can imagine. I'm human too, Clarke. I've had my share. This time I just happened to be on the other side. Which I can't recommend, by the way."

"Well, excuse me for not feeling sorry for you," I snap.

Her laughter surprises me, but not as much my own response to it: I can't help but snicker along. And it doesn't feel wrong.

"I'm not asking you for any sympathy. Nor for your forgiveness," she says, her tone back to serious, but with that sincere smile still lingering on her lips. "I just want you to know that I am sorry. And that you don't have to worry."

It's in that moment that I catch Lexa cross the street, heading toward the Raven's Nest. Relaxed, laughing, fooling around with Madi, who's close at her side. I watch her, keep watching her, until she spots me too. As soon as she does, her smile grows, lighting up her face – and then the world around her.

It's as if she doesn't even see who I'm with, who I'm talking to. Like she might realize there's another person there, but she couldn't care less who it is. Like I'm the only one who matters.

I mirror her smile, then look back at Rosita.

"I'm not worried at all," I tell her. And I mean every word of it.

… …

"Everyone here?" I ask as I join the others in Raven's living room.

Lexa nods at me. "Everyone who doesn't have to be elsewhere."

I look around the room. Besides Lexa and Madi I count five of our friends: Raven, Octavia, Echo, Murphy and Niylah. They all look at me expectantly.

"What's this all about?" Raven is the first to ask, her eyes moving toward the roll I'm still holding. "You're starting a little art class now?"

"Can't remember signing up for that," Octavia mumbles quietly, but loud enough to catch.

I shake my head. "Don't worry, it's nothing like that. We just need your help." One by one I'm handing everyone a sheet of paper. They're thin, almost look-through. But not blank. "As you can see I draw a shape on these, let's say the shape of a piece of land, or a country. We want to ask you to draw a map of our old world. Include as much as you can think of. Polis, Tondc, Mount Weather. Anything you can remember."

Murphy shows me a frown. "You know we can't go back, right? Even if we wanted to? Without the ship—"

"It's not about that," Lexa jumps in. A quick attempt to spare me the traumatic image of the crashed dropship, I can tell by her worried glimpse at me, yet not quick enough. I appreciate her trying though. "We'll explain later."

"So what does it have to be based on?" Niylah asks. "The maps we've seen, or our own experiences?"

"Both – I guess," I answer, giving her a pencil. "Just draw what feels most accurate to you."

Despite their mixture of dubious and curious looks, everyone spreads out across the room to devote themselves to their assignment without further questions. As they're working in silence, Lexa and I tape our map, which we drew together, against the window.

Raven is the first to finish. The others follow shortly after, while we're busy taping Raven's drawing as precisely as possible over ours. The weak sunlight coming from behind turns the two thin sheets into one image, showing how much alike they are. Only Raven's version of Polis is significantly smaller, but since she's never been there, her not knowing makes sense.

Murphy's map is next. His sketch also closely fits on the layers below. But he's added a part: the desert area, north of Trikru's woods. Echo's map contains a lot of information about the Azgeda region. And Octavia's comes with some more details, like the Lincoln memorial.

We all more or less agree on the mountains in the west, specifically Mount Weather, and Luna's oil rig in the east, slightly outside my pre-drawn land border.

"If this was a memory test, then I'd say we passed," Octavia dryly remarks.

"It's not," Lexa says, while reaching for the rolled-up paper she brought with her, "but that doesn't mean I'm not impressed." Together we roll out the map she took from Madi's classroom and stick it on the window, next to our collection of drawings. "We present to you, our old world, and our new one."

The whole group steps closer as one.

"You're saying it's the same?" Niylah questions first, her gaze flashing between the two images.

"Not exactly," I answer her, "But we made a see-through of the classroom's map too, and I'm starting to feel like we don't even need it. It's clear to see that the mountain range, the valley, the lakes and the ocean are all located alike."

"These places match, too," Lexa adds, pointing at some of the towns, "And then there's the names, or well, some of them…"

Raven tilts her head, thoughtfully. "Yet it's not a copy." It's not a question. Her fast brain already noticed the differences. "This new world doesn't show any signs or evidence of our presence. There's no Arkadia, for example."

"That's right," I nod, "But the difference is not just in what we—Skaikru—left behind. It's the act and influence of people in general. The human stamp."

Lexa points at one of the lakes on the official map. "When we went searching for my mother, right around here, we crossed all this land in between. Lots of nothing, and thus lots of nature. We didn't realize it at the time, but in retrospect some parts seemed quite… familiar. Like this area, which in our old world could be the northern border of Shallow Valley."

"Felt right at home there," Madi remarks from the couch, from where she's watching us trying to solve the puzzle she started.

"Yet I've also been to Washington DC," Lexa continues unabated, "which, if our theory is right, would be our Tondc. DC is a huge city though. A metropolis, really. Nothing like the forest village we know." She looks at Octavia. "I don't think you'd find that memorial there."

We fall silent for a moment, letting all these facts sink in, until Murphy turns away from the window. "So Monty did not make us fly around in circles, only to return home? We are actually somewhere else, as told?"

"That would be my assumption," Lexa nods slowly, "Yet at the same time the similarities are undeniable."

I turn to Raven. "What do you think?"

Raven's eyes don't find mine, as they're still glued to the two maps. "It's remarkable," she admits. "But I wouldn't know how to give any meaning to it. Unless we're talking some kind of… mirror planets?"

Octavia squints her eyes in doubt. "Do those exist?"

"Not to my knowing," Raven shrugs, "But these days there's not a lot that amazes me anymore." She shares a look with Lexa, who shrugs in return. Who would have thought they'd find each other in the inexplicable?

"The question is, does any of this matter?" I wonder out loud. Moving back to the seating area, I sit down next to Madi. The others follow, except for Raven. "Did we find some relevant, maybe even important clue here, or is this just…"

"…some fun fact?" Niylah suggests.

"Well, yeah."

"I guess that depends on what we're trying to find," she smiles.

Octavia sits forward, elbows on her knees. "I thought we were done searching. We wanted a place to live. We found it."

"I'm good," Murphy nods in agreement, "Got my girl, got a roof above my head…"

"Peace, safety," Echo sums up next, "I guess it's all relative here, but yeah, I'm good too."

I look next to me. "How about you, Madi?" I ask, laying my hand on her shoulder. "What do you need?"

She looks up at me, a clear answer in mind.

"Family. And friends." Then, grinning more widely. "Maybe a little less school."

We all laugh. And as we do, my eyes find Lexa's. They're shining with joy, with a happiness that's so rarely granted to her. "Freedom," she softly answers my unasked question, almost like a whisper, "And you."

It's one of those moments when my heart flutters, my chest swells and I could honestly cry just by looking at her. God, how I love this girl!

It's also one of those moments when we're clearly not very subtle.

"Jeez, can someone please get these two a room?!" Murphy groans, followed by the most dramatic eye-roll. Before I can shoot him a look though, Raven draws our attention back to her.

"Answers," she simply states, "I want answers. And a cure."

And just like that she brings us back to reality.

"We're not good," she goes on, "We're only good for now. But this world is screwed, and it will get us someday. Unless we fix it."

Lexa gets up again. "Raven, I hear you. But I've been around here since all of this started. It's been seven, eight years. If there was a cure to be found—"

"Eight years is nothing if you're not looking in the right place," Raven cuts her off. "Which is why I want to go here."

We all follow her finger, pointing at our combined drawing.

"The Dead Zone?" Murphy frowns again. "Hell no!"

"Not the desert," Raven tells him, tapping the map, "but what's next to it, past the shore. Becca's island."

"Becca's i—?!" Like stung by a bee, he jumps to his feet. "You're insane. Why would you ever go back there?"

"If it's even there," Echo points out, "Look, it's not on the actual map."

Raven shrugs her shoulders, unstirred. "Could be too small for that."

"Or it might not exist," I tell her, "We're talking Becca's island here. It might have been just as artificial as everything else she created."

Measuring the distance between here and there with her thumb and little finger, Raven does not seem to hear us anymore. Or maybe she just doesn't care. "What's the harm in finding out?" she mumbles.

"What do you hope to find there?" Lexa asks in return, "We just concluded that the only thing similar is the landscape. Geophysical landforms. There are no traces of our own. Becca has never been here."

"Becca," Raven answers calmly, "was a very smart cookie – well, despite her world destructive mistakes. There must have been a reason why she picked that place specifically for her lab, the satellite tower and everything else. Something helpful."

I get up to get another close look of both maps, even though I know them by heart by now. I guess it's just my way of taking some time before disagreeing, and thus of avoiding one of our classic debates.

"I get what you're saying," I warily sigh, "but again, there might be nothing there."

"True," she admits, way too easily, "The entire expedition could be a complete waste. But it also might be the beginning of the end – at last. So I'm going. And I bet you're going with me."

"We just got here!" I exclaim.

"Oh, I know. But seriously, Clarke," she grins, "when have you ever said no to a nice little road trip?"

… …

Chapter Text

Raven is right, of course. There is no way Clarke is going to sit this one out. And if she is going, then I am going, too.

We use the next few days to talk things through and prepare, wanting to leave as soon as possible since the days already turn shorter. Soon we'll hardly have nine hours of daylight. Which means the fastest we can be there would be within a day or three, if we can find some wheels, while on foot it's going to take us weeks - at least. And we are all realistic enough to count on the latter.

Prioritizing both speed and safety, we choose to keep our travel group small. Small, yet strong. Besides Raven, Clarke and myself, only Octavia is joining. A decision both Madi and Mom clearly disagree with.

"It's just a first expedition," we tell them over and over, "We're gonna take a quick peek, see if there's anything out there at all. If so—which we highly doubt—we come back for your help. But till then, we need you to to ensure our place here. To help us show our true intention to return, to stay part of this community." We explain to them it's the same reason why Shaw isn't coming, or Bellamy. "We all have each. A child, a mother, a lover, a brother. People who matter, and keep the door open for us." The difference though is that Shaw and Bellamy understand or at least know how to shut up about it, while our so called gate keepers manage to stay a pain in the ass until the minute we leave...

We inform the Alexandria council, without actually telling them much. How to explain a journey to a possibly non-existent island, over 200 miles away, that at best only resembles the location of a place somewhere on another planet once chosen by a mad scientist to do God knows what? A mission north, we call it, to stock up for winter. Following some lead we got earlier, that might be something; at least worth the try. Yes, it's a little further than before. Could take four weeks, six maybe. But we'll come back, of course we will.

When they insist in sending a search party if we haven't returned when winter falls, we know they believe us. Even more so, that they care. So there's really no saying 'no' to that.

We pack our bags, as light and efficient as possible. Find the most useful road maps Alexandria can offer. Load our guns and sharpen our knives. Have a great farewell meal with our people. And make sure we really enjoy our last night together in relative privacy - this last 'we' just being Clarke and me of course.

And then it's time to go.

Despite their continuing grumpiness, Mom and Madi both got up early to see us out. They're waiting for us in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, together with Octavia, who looks more than ready for a new adventure. When we reach the front door, Mom takes my shoulder, stopping me.

"Mom," I sigh, turning toward her, "not again."

She shakes her head. "I'm not going to impose myself. Or trying to keep you here."

"Then what is it? What do you want?"

Taking a step closer, she rests her palm against my cheek. Warm and soft. "I want you back, safe and sound. You, Alicia, whoever you turned out to be. And however long it takes you. Come back to me when you can, so I can get to know you."

As she pleads with me, searching my eyes intently, I swallow the lump in my throat.

"You mean that?"

She weaves her fingers through my hair, then pulls me in for a hug, whispering, "I do."

It's those two small and simple words that break me.

"I'm sorry," I sob, holding her tighter as I bury my face into her neck. "I'm so sorry."

Without letting go, Mom strokes my hair. "For what?"

"For everything. For all this mess and... confusion and... and pain I gave you. For... for everything that happened to us, that ruined us, and... and..."

"We are not ruined. Look at me." Mom takes a step back, cupping my face again. "We are not ruined, okay. And you have nothing to be sorry for."

"But I—"

"No!" She doesn't let me finish, doesn't let me do this to myself. "None of this, whatever this is, is your fault. Or mine. Or any ones. We have to stop casting blame, it's the only way to move on."

I nod, my face still between her hands. She wipes away my tears with her thumbs, before leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. "We'll be fine," she quietly states, "Just make it home safe, then we'll be fine."

With nothing left to say, we share another embrace.

After our goodbye, Mom stays at the door, watches us until we're all out of sight, while Madi follows us to the gate where we'll be meeting Raven.

"I'm still mad, you know?" she tells Clarke.

"Oh, I know," Clarke answers, not without laughing.

"You just don't care," Madi grumbles.

And thus starts the second mother-daughter act of this morning.

"Madi, you're not being fair," Clarke sighs, "You know very well that I do."

"Then why?!" Madi cries out, throwing her hands in the air to give it her best, knowing this will be her last chance. "Why leave me here?!"

Clarke stops in her tracks, looking at the huffing teenager besides her. "We told you already, you're part of our insurance, our way of—"

"Horseshit! You're afraid I'll be a burden! While I've proven myself over and over."

"You have," Clarke admits, "but you didn't have to, you just had to be there. Because on none of those trips we intended to come back. This time we do. So I choose to keep you safe. Want to hate me for that? Fine, go ahead."

Not willing to wait for another snarky reply, Clarke faces the road again and continues her way. Her stride tells me she's not happy. Instead of following her though, I call for my sister.

"Is this really how you want to say goodbye, Madi? By picking a fight?"

She shrugs.

"Come on, you're better than this. Use your words."

Still not answering, she turns away from me, which might be for the best. Even walkers stands a better chance with me than teens rolling their eyes. Seriously, I've killed for less.

"Madi!"

"I'm scared, okay!" she blurts out, "What if... what if you guys don't make it back?"

I stare at her. I had no idea, really. "When did we ever not come back?"

Madi stays quiet again.

"Look, I know I wasn't there before, but ever since I learned about you, about who you are to Clarke, I know there is no way she'd ever leave you, or lose you along the way. Each time you two were apart, she was thinking of you, of finding her way back to you, day and night. She always succeeded and she always will." I lay my hand on her shoulder. "You are her North Star, kiddo."

She finally looks up at me. And then the smallest smile appears on her lips.

"Polaris," she mumbles.

I tilt my head, not understanding.

"Back in Doah, Clarke taught me how to find north by looking for Polaris, the brightest star."

"Huh," I chuckle, mirroring her smile, "what are the chances?!" And then, more seriously, "I mean it, Madi, you don't have to worry. We'll be back before you know it."

She narrows her eyes. "Will you be careful?"

"Always," I promise, "Plus, we're taking Octavia. You know you can trust her to keep us safe. Isn't she your favorite warrior?"

Her cheeks blush with a hint of embarrassment, as a playful reminder of our younger selves often does. "Clarke told you that?"

"I'm afraid she did," I wink, "but only because I kept bragging that it was me."

She shakes her head, and with it the Madi from just before is back, however in a seemingly better mood. "You two really should stop talking about me," she snickers, like we're the idiots here. Yet before I can say anything in return, she turns and starts running toward the others. I quickly try to catch up and when I do, she wholeheartedly grins at me. "You were right though," she confides, "You are."

The moment we join our little group, Clarke searches for me with her eyes. She's okay, I tell her with mine, while gently pushing Madi toward her. I spin around toward Raven and Octavia, giving Clarke and Madi some space. While we're doing a final check before leaving, I hear them both apologize, and I don't even need to turn back to know I'd catch them in a warm embrace.

When Clarke lets go of her, it's my turn.

"Wochas ona riskiwe," Madi points out again.

"Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim," I tell her by way of answer, before pulling her in. May we meet again.

More hugs follow, with more friends showing up. We make sure not to skip anyone, despite Raven urging us to hurry a little. After we finally said all our goodbyes, we step outside through the iron gate to start our trip... only to be stopped again ten seconds later.

"Wait," Madi calls after us, "I forgot something!"

Clarke and I turn around simultaneously and watch her run toward us. Once with us, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out three coins. Three nickels, worth now even less than they used to. Yet in Madi's hand, reflecting the early morning sun rays, they look like treasure.

"I found them a little while back. One for each of us. To keep us connected," she says, suddenly a little sheepishly. Before I know it, she presses one in my hand and one in Clarke's. And just like that she's off again.

Without a word, Clarke and I share a look of understanding.

Then we continue our way, leaving Madi, Mom and all the others behind us. I don't look back. But I do squeeze the old coin in my fist real hard.

... ...

Chapter Text

Except for the City of Light, I've never been to a big, urban city. And while I agreed with Lexa about its existence, I'm not even sure if that place was actually real.

It's the only image I have though, and it doesn't feel like enough. It's not enough to really imagine the world Lexa—as Alicia—grew up in. The world that shaped her, helped make her who she is today, before it went to hell. I know that Washington DC isn't Los Angeles, her hometown, and that it can only show me its current state, but if that's all I can get, then I take it.

That's why I voted yes to the question whether we go through the city instead of around it. Despite the danger that might come with it.

I've kept my reason to myself. Lexa would not have excepted it. And Raven and Octavia probably wouldn't have cared. So I just insisted in taking the shortcut, saving us a day or two.

Octavia agreed. She claimed to rather fight a potential army of the undead than walk the extra miles. Which could be true. I'm just not sure if that's her only reason. Raven didn't mention the distance. She just said she hopes to find some tech in town she apparently needs. But honestly, I think she's mostly still bitter about being benched before.

Lexa was the only one against crossing the city. Going into the suburbs, where they went scavenging, was already tricky. Actually going downtown would be downright dangerous, she assured us. Definitely not worth the risk of maybe (just maybe!) getting there a little faster. But with three against one, she could only follow us.

Of course, Lexa was right.

I can tell the moment we're getting closer. A deserted outskirt doesn't evoke much contradiction. It's something my brain can process. Even when encountering something... inhuman. But when silence begins to descend upon you as you approach a once-thriving metropolis that should bring more noise, more people, more life... that just feels surreal. Surreal, and very dangerous indeed.

It's not just the people that used to live here. It's the city itself that is dead.

Not just quiet, not just abandoned. Dead. A graveyard of the old world. Tall twelve-story buildings stand like tombstones, their shattered glass catching the dull, gray light of the overcast sky. Rusting cars clog the streets, their skeletons in many cases burned out long ago. In the spaces between, the walkers move; slow, groaning, dragging their decomposing bodies toward any sound, any sign of life. In a strange way, I suddenly realize, they are a lot like those folks endangering me in the City of Light. They didn't have any free will either. For all those people once living here, I can only hope real city life used to come with the opposite.

I tighten my grip on the knife in my hand, my pulse hammering in my ears as I scan the street ahead. Too many of them. Their numbers have been growing since we entered the city, and now we're running out of road.

"We should've gone around," I mutter under my breath.

"Well, there's no going back now," Octavia snaps. She adjusts the makeshift armor on her shoulders. "We either push through or find another way. Fast."

I take a deep breath. I know she's right. We want to get out of the city before nightfall.

Raven pulls out a crumpled map from her jacket pocket, her eyes flicking between the paper and their surroundings. "The map says there's a Metro entrance nearby," she tells us. "If we can get underground, we might be able to bypass them."

"Subways are a gamble," Lexa answers, scanning the intersection ahead with sharp, calculating eyes. "If they're clear, great. If they're not, we're walking into a death trap."

Right then, a sudden clatter echoes through the street - a trash can tipping over in the distance. In this silence, the sound is like a gunshot. The herd reacts instantly. One by one, their rotting heads snap toward the sound. Their moans intensify, their movements grow more urgent.

As if drawn by a magnet, each walker starts to make its way toward the sound. And here's the problem. We are standing right in their path.

"Time's up," I hiss.

"Run!" Lexa barks.

We sprint into the nearest alley, the sound of decayed feet behind us growing louder. The alley is narrow, the walls slick with old blood. Raven trips but catches herself, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

"Metro's one block down," she pants. "If we can make it—"

A snarl cuts her off.

I barely have time to react before something lunges from the shadows. A walker missing half its face, its exposed jaw snapping wildly, grabs for me. I stumble back, barely keeping its teeth away from my throat.

A sword flashes. Lexa.

The walker drops instantly, Lexa yanking her blade free. Next to us, Octavia grunts as she drives her machete into another body, shoving the corpse off her with a quick twist of her wrist.

"Keep moving!" I yell.

We burst out onto another ruined street, and there it is: the subway entrance. The rusted sign reads McPherson Square Station, though most of the letters have been worn away. The stairs leading down are a dark, gaping hole. Lexa hesitates at the top step, starring into the shadows. "If we go down, we need to be sure there's a way back up."

"We don't have a choice!" Raven shouts, pointing behind us.

I risk a glance over my shoulder. The herd is coming fast. Too fast. Their collective groans rise in a hungry crescendo.

When I meet Lexa's gaze, no words are needed.

She moves first, leading us down into the station. I follow, with every instinct screaming at me to turn back, to run - but there's nowhere else to go.

Our footsteps echo eerily as they hit the platform. Other than that, it's deathly silent. The air is damp, thick with the scent of putrefaction. The emergency lights flicker weakly, casting everything in a sickly greenish glow with its last drop of energy.

The train tunnels stretch ahead into the darkness.

"Here goes nothing," Octavia says, holding her weapon at the ready. 

I cautiously step forward, my boots crunching on something brittle. Broken tiles... or old bones? With bated breath we move along the platform edge. The walls are covered in dirt. Pieces of old posters are peeling off like dead skin. Rat carcasses lie scattered across the floor, their bodies gnawed open.

The entire station feels wrong. Empty, but expectant.

Raven sweeps her flashlight over the tracks. No movement. No walkers. Not yet.

Then... a sound. Faint. Distant.

A dry shuffle.

We all freeze.

Then another. A scrape. A wet, dragging sound.

That's when we see them. When they come.

Shapes emerging from the darkness. A mass of walkers, crawling themselves forward from the tunnel's depths toward the platform. Some are missing limbs, others are half-crushed by cave-ins... or so I imagine. But they're moving. They keep coming.

My stomach twists.

Close behind me, Raven sharply inhales. "Well… that's horrifying."

"There!" I point to a service tunnel just ahead of us, a rusted maintenance door hanging ajar. "Go!"

We run again.

Reaching the door first, Lexa shoves it open. "It's clear!" she calls, and we all push through. The passage is narrow, lined with rusted pipes and dust-covered fuse boxes. A ladder leads up to a vent. An emergency exit, maybe?

"Go, go, go!" Octavia urges, boosting Raven up. Our mechanic quickly climbs up, prying the vent cover open with her knife. Octavia follows, then me.

Behind me, Lexa is halfway up when I hear it. The sound of wood splintering.

The first walkers have reached the door.

A skeletal hand shoots out, grabbing Lexa's boot. She kicks hard, snapping some bones, but another hand latches on. Fingers claw at her pants. Yanking. Pulling.

I don't think. As I cry out her name, my hand shoots down, tightly gripping her wrist. She twists, her sword flashing as she severs yet another grasping hand.

"Hold on!" Octavia shouts, now hanging onto the ladder with one hand, reaching out the other. Just as the herd crashes through the doorway below, we manage to haul Lexa up and through the vent, that slams shut behind us.

We collapse onto the floor, gasping for breath. The sounds of the walkers echo from below, their hunger unabated. For a long moment, no one speaks.

Then, Raven starts laughing. It's breathless, exhausted, half-hysterical. "Well. So much for shortcuts."

Lexa wipes some blood from her cheek, smirking. "Yeah. Let's not do that again."

No mockery. No I told you so. Just Let's not do that again.

I smile at her, exhausted but sincere, and sit up. We're at a rooftop, just one story high, yet somewhat safe for now. I look at the ruined buildings around us. Beyond them, the road north continues. Our journey is far from over. But a short break we can take.

We share a bottle of water, then start to check our wounds.

"You okay?" I ask Lexa, scooting closer toward her.

She nods, a weary smile on her lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just some scratches. No bites. You?"

I just nod, averting my eyes from her.

"Clarke?"

I don't look up until I feel the warm touch of her hand on mine. Swallowing hard, I shrug. "This was so stupid. I was so st—"

"Shhh," she hushes me. "Don't go there. Don't do this to yourself."

"I could have lost you," I mumble.

The left corner of her lips curls up, giving me that smile. "You ever worry about yourself instead of me?" Knowing the answer, she doesn't wait for it. After a gently squeeze, she quietly goes on, "Did you find it?"

I narrow my eyes, not understanding. She laughs, soft and encouraging.

"Whatever it was that you hoped to find here? That drove you here?"

Did I? I gaze at the cityscape around me again, at what once was, then back at her. "No."

"Will you?"

Heaving a deep sigh, I force myself to face reality. I shake my head in regret. "No."

"I'm sorry." She cups my jaw, raising my face to hers. Her eyes are full of sorrow. "Is there anything I can do?"

A humorless chuckle escapes me. "Can you get us out of here?"

"I sure can try." Leaning in, Lexa kisses me, then whispers, "You're not gonna lose me."

I want to answer her, and kiss her some more, and... but I don't get the chance.

"I knew it!" Octavia's voice makes us both look at her. She's sitting a few feet away from us, Raven's tourist map on her lap. "It does exist. And we almost passed it, a mile or so back."

I have no clue what she's talking about, and judging by the look on Lexa's face, neither does she.

"The Lincoln Memorial!" Octavia exclaims when we stay quiet. She points at the map, her finger almost pressing through the paper. "It's right here. If we'd taken a left at that green, overgrown area, we would have found it."

Lexa moves closer to her, frowning. "Is it the same?"

"I don't know," Octavia shrugs in frustration, "There's no picture of it. But is has to be... right?"

"Y-Yeah, I... I would think so," I stammer, quickly trying to process this new information. "But Octavia, we can't... we can't go back."

She opens her mouth and for a moment I think she's going to yell at me, but just as abruptly she closes it again. "I know," she just sighs, slumping her shoulders.

"I'm sorry."

"Sure." She turns her attention back to the map, trying to fold it without much success, partly due to her clear agitation. "Whatever."

Lexa and I share a look, not knowing what else to say.

Right then, Raven joins us again. "I think I might have found a way out," she starts, unaware of Octavia's discovery and her feelings about it. "There's a fire stairwell over there leading to a higher part of this building. I checked it out. From what I can tell, the buildings in this block are all pretty close together."

I can feel my eyes widen. "You wanna jump?!"

"No," she answers, "I don't want to. But we don't have much choice. Have you looked down yet?"

Shaking my head, I stand up and move to the edge of the rooftop. Before I even kneel down, I smell them again. The stench rises from below, even to this high up. It never stops, never fades. It clings to this world now, just like the walkers. I look down at the streets filled with them. Hundreds, no, probably thousands of walkers, shambling around aimlessly, clawing at the air. Raven is right. The only way across the city center is above it. The streets are impassable, flooded with walkers that never stop hungering. The rooftops are our only option, though also far from safe. A single misstep, a loose piece of debris, and we fall. If we don't break our necks, the dead will take care of the rest.

I turn back to Raven. "Your leg?"

"I'll manage," she answers, giving a little shrug, "I have to."

It takes the others no more than a glance down to agree, and after another sip of water and some readjustments to our weapons, we are ready to move on.

We climb the stairwell, careful not to make too much noise. Every step creaks beneath our weight, with dust falling from the weakened structure. When we reach the highest rooftop, a sweeping view of the city sprawls before us.

Raven pulls out a pair of binoculars. "There," she says, pointing to some construction a few blocks away. "It's hard to tell from here, but I think that's a skybridge. If we can get to it, we might be able to cross over to the next block without touching the ground."

"Sounds dangerous," Octavia smirks, "I like it."

I'm not sure if feel the same, but I nod nonetheless. "Let's move then."

Once close to the edge, I scan the rooftops ahead. The buildings here are old, some crumbling from weather and neglect, others blackened by fires long burned out. But they're close enough together that a leap is possible. If we're quick. If we're careful.

Lexa steps forward, assessing the distance. "This one first," she says, pointing to a brick building with a flat roof. "About seven feet. We can make it."

She goes first, backing up a little, before taking off at a sprint. At the last second, she pushes off the edge, soaring over the gap. She lands in a crouch, steadying herself before looking back. "Easy," she winks.

"Show off," I wink back.

Octavia follows. She barely stumbles as she lands, her balance perfect. I go next. My heart pounds as my feet hit the rooftop, but I don't slow down. No time to think. No time to doubt. Just jump. My boots slam against the cracked concrete at the other side, and I roll, absorbing the impact.

Raven is last. Her leg slows her down, but she clenches her jaw and runs anyway. For a second, I think she won't make it. Then Lexa's hand shoots out, grabbing her arm and hauling her forward just as her foot slips.

"Not today," she says, helping her to her feet.

Nodding, Raven lets out a shaky breath. "Thanks."

I turn back toward the street. The walkers below haven't noticed us—yet. "We have to keep moving," I tell the others, "We might get away from this pack."

The next rooftop is only about three feet away, but slightly higher up. Not an easy jump. I take a deep breath, then sprint toward the edge, pushing off hard and arms pumping as I clear the gap.

Octavia follows, leaping effortlessly again like she was born for this. Lexa is right behind her, landing smoothly. Raven comes last, gritting her teeth as she propels herself forward. This times she makes it without help.

We keep moving. The city stretches out around us, a maze of broken constructions. Smoke rises in the distance—something burning, but we don't have time to worry about it.

Another jump. Another rooftop.

Until we reach the skybridge. We don't have access to it, so we can't walk through as intended. The only way is to get onto its roof and crawl to the other side with basically nothing to hold on to. It's two feet wide at most, about a hundred feet long, and... I don't want to know how deep.

"You think it holds?" I wonder out loud.

"Before? Without a doubt." Raven tilts her head, a pensive look on her face, like she's doing the math. "These days, after years of neglect? Let's hope so."

"Great," I scoff, patting her shoulder, "Glad you're here to reassure us."

We decide to go in pairs, so we can share the weight yet still help each other. Lexa and I go first, carefully lowering ourselves onto the narrow roof. The metal plates are slippery from the rain, and the further we get to the middle section, the more the wind threatens to pull us off.

There's only one moment when I accidentally look down. It is the same moment when I feel my palm slipping away.

"Shit—"

Lexa is there in an instant, grabbing my jacket and helping me balance.

"Not a fan of falling," I pant.

"Then don't," she deadpans.

The crossing seems endless, when in reality it probably only takes a few a minutes. I once climbed a freakishly high satellite tower. I can honestly say that crawling across this bridge is worse.

As soon as we make it to the other side, we turn around and watch our friends do the same. The whole undertaking is so thrilling, that we literally embrace each other when we're all together again. Once we catch our breath, we make our way to the other end of the roof to see what awaits us there. Looking down, we gasp in relief.

The streets are empty.

Of course we must remain quiet and on our guard, but right now there are no herds for as far as our eyes can see. One fire escape and about a dozen more blocks and we can leave downtown DC behind us.

Before we start the descent, I put my hand above my eyes, gazing into the distance where the edge of the city is almost visible.

"What's coming up next?" Octavia asks.

"Baltimore," I answer.

"Another city?"

"Yup," I nod, "But you know what?"

I turn to look at her, snickering when our eyes meet. She grins, knowing very well, and so we both laugh in unison: "Let's go around it!"

... ...

Chapter Text

The coast feels different from the ghost towns we've passed and the forests we've crawled through. It's exposed. Open. There's no brushwood to hide in, no trees to blend into; just rocks, sand, and water that could swallow you whole. The ocean is louder than I remember from back home, or even from our stay at Oceanside, with big waves crashing into the rocky shore, sending cold spray into the air that mists my face. The salt stings my skin, while a strong wind tugs at my hair.

Behind me, Octavia adjusts her pack. I can hear the leather strap creak as she tightens it. Clarke and Raven stand a few steps back, arguing softly over the quickest route to the next cove and whether the storm building out there will hit us before morning. They bicker like sisters, but it's comfortable, familiar.

My boots scrape over uneven stone as I inch closer to the cliff's edge, scanning the horizon. The Atlantic really feels endless here, with water and sky stretching so far it almost tricks me into thinking the world is still normal. Almost.

Raven keeps muttering about the map, something about how the coordinates better not be off, but as I'm too focused on the water, I only catch every third word. That's when I feel Clarke's hand slipping into mine.

"Gray," she sighs, her gaze following mine, "Nothing but gray. God, I hate that color."

I squeeze her hand, just once, as a silent reminder. I'm here, you're here, we're both still here.

"We need a boat," I say. "If the island is real, it's somewhere out there, hidden past the horizon."

Clarke points to a narrow stretch of shore where the sand flattens out and dark wood litters the ground. Pieces of old docks, maybe, or shipwrecks. It's impossible to tell from up here, but worth checking out. We have to start somewhere.

We all fall into silence as we get closer to the water, the tension building with each step. The tide is low, exposing jagged rocks sticking out of the sand like broken teeth. This isn't a gentle beach with soft dunes and clear paths. This is wild, untouched, a place that belongs to the sea more than it ever did to people.

"Looks like there's nothing there," Octavia states when we're halfway down, "Except maybe for that rowboat, if we don't mind the fact that it's broken in half."

"With these waves, there's no way you're getting me in any rowboat," Raven grumbles, "I wouldn't even trust a motorized dinghy."

Octavia shoots her a look. "How'd you hope to make the crossing? On a luxury yacht?"

A snort escapes me and I shake my head. Right then, movement catches my eye. Something bobbing just off the pointy boulders. It's a boat, small and struggling against the waves. Too close to the shore, too unstable.

Someone's on it.

"Do you see that?" I call, stopping in my tracks.

Clarke steps up beside me, her hand above her eyes. "They're in trouble," she says, her voice flat but tense. "If they drift any closer, they'll hit the rocks."

My thoughts exactly. "There's someone on deck," I point.

Raven edges past us, squinting into the glare. "Engine's dead, probably. Seems like they're trying to fix it."

"Alone?" Octavia cries out, "Who the hell goes out there alone?"

I don't have an answer for that. All I know is whoever they are, they're out of time. A wave hits the hull hard, pitching the bow sideways. Whoever's onboard stumbles, barely catching themselves on the railing. They're going over if they can't get control soon.

"Let's go!" I shout, already running down the narrow path to the beach. Sand grinds under my boots as we reach the shoreline. I shed my jacket and knife belt, tossing them onto a sun-bleached log. Next to me, Octavia does the same. No hesitation. She just dives straight into the surf, cutting through the water like it's nothing - proving once again how well adapted to earth she managed to get. I follow a second later, my breath catching at the cold.

The waves try to pull me sideways, but I push through. My arms slice through the water, my legs keep kicking hard. The boat lurches again, even closer now, and I see her - a woman, dark hair plastered to her face, hands shaking as she wrestles with a broken oar. She's scared. Alone. Too focused on surviving to even see us coming.

"Hey!" I shout, my voice half-lost over the crashing surf. "Hold on!"

Her head snaps up, eyes wide and panicked. Another wave slams into the side of the boat, and I see her knees buckle. She's about to go overboard. Octavia reaches the boat first, grabbing onto the side, pulling herself up with pure muscle and stubbornness. I get there seconds later, bracing myself against the hull with my legs as I climb up, my fingers numb from the cold.

"We're getting you off this thing," I tell her, sounding more commanding than comforting.

She doesn't argue. Doesn't have the energy. Octavia grabs one of her arms, I grab the other, and together we jump into the deep. The woman gasps at the cold, but kicks weakly, trying to help as we swim to the shore. Waves crash over our heads, salt water fills my mouth. But I don't let go.

On the beach, Clarke and Raven are waiting with a rope - a makeshift lifeline from some washed-up mooring cables. I manage to catch it and wrap it around my wrist, before Clarke and Raven start hauling us in, their feet digging deep into the sand. Raven's brace creaks under the strain, but she grits her teeth and keeps pulling.

The woman splutters and coughs the whole way in, too exhausted to do much more than hold on. When we reach the shallows, she collapses onto the wet sand, her knees digging into the grit. I drop down beside her, brushing soaked hair from her round, weathered face.

"You're okay," I pant, though I have no idea if that's true.

Her lips move, her voice barely there. "Who… who are you?"

"Just travelers," Clarke answers for all of us, standing over us with her hands on her hips, her breath uneven. "You?"

The woman coughs once more, then looks up - her dark eyes wide and sharp. "Erin," she answers, her voice still ragged from seawater and shock. "My boat. I need to get back."

Octavia shoots up straight. "Is there anyone else on there?"

"N-no," Erin shakes her head, "It's just... it's my only way home."

I glance out at the small ship bobbing offshore. The tide's already pulling it farther out. It might survive. It might not. But right now, there's nothing we can do about it.

"We'll help you get it back," Raven says, like it's a simple fact.

"We'll figure it out tomorrow," Clarke adds, "When the weather clears up."

Erin smiles at them. Just weakly, but it's there. The first glimmer of hope I've seen in a stranger's face in a long time.

We build a fire on the beach, close to the rocks, the high flames fighting the growing wind. The flickering light illuminates the tall cliff behind us. We all huddle close, watching the sky darken. Raven lends Erin some of her dry clothes and Clarke hands her a cup of broth.

"So, Erin? You live somewhere out there?" I cautiously try, hoping we earned enough trust by now. "Past the horizon?"

After a short hesitation, she nods. "Yeah, I do. You can't tell from here, but there are some islands over there, behind all the mist. My family and I moved to one of them, shortly after the outbreak. We managed to build some sort of life, relatively safe, but it's not always easy and we do have to go to the mainland sometimes."

"Must be some reason to make that trip all alone," Raven remarks dryly, her gaze hypnotized by the dancing flames at our feet.

Erin nods again. "Our generator broke down. We need another one before winter. So pretty much as soon as possible."

A little riddled, I narrow my eyes. "But why just you? How about your family?"

"My parents are getting older. Not just physically, but... I don't know. They both seem to start... losing it a bit lately," she answers, shrugging sadly. "And my husband injured his wrist last week. Plus, I needed one of us to keep an eye on my folks, and our kids. Who all wanted to come along, of course, and the oldest easily could by now, but... well, guess who was stubborn?"

Clarke chuckles softly, her eyes warm with understanding. "Haven't we all been there, once or twice?"

"You?!" Raven blurts out, "When!?"

Ignoring her, Clarke keeps looking at Erin. "Did you find it? The generator?"

"Miraculously, I did." Erin shifts in her spot, a heavy sigh falling from her lips. "I was on my way back with it. It's on the boat."

As if on cue, we all turn our heads to look at the ocean. Of course, all we see is pitch black darkness.

"We don't know if it's lost," Octavia muses, "If it doesn't drift out of the bay, maybe we can reach it."

Raven nods, though looking pensive. "As long as that boat doesn't capsize, it might still be salvageable. We could—"

"Why would you help me?" Erin cuts her off, looking at all of us. When no one speaks up, she goes on, "Or... keep helping me? What's it to you if I make it home?!"

"We uhm..." I start, but Octavia beats me to it, blurting, "We kinda need a boat, too."

As soon as the truth is out, Erin freezes, her eyes growing wide with fear. "You wanna take mine?!"

"No, no!" I quickly tell her, "We just want to work together. If we can fix your boat, or help you find another one, then maybe you can take us with you? We're searching for an island, which might be close to yours."

Erin stays quiet for a moment, then sighs again. "We have this no-strangers rule. It's how we survived all this time. It's not that I don't want to trust you, or take you even, I just..."

When she falls quiet, Clarke leans in, resting her hand on Erin's shoulder. "Just sleep on it for a night. At dawn, we might know a lot more. Like if your boat is still out there, to start with."

Octavia jumps to her feet. "I'll keep first watch. You guys get some rest."

And with that, the deliberation is over. At least for now.

I get up. The night air is cool, cold almost, and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore creates an eerie backdrop as I prepare our bed. I unroll the blanket from my backpack, smoothing out the wrinkles with quick, practiced motions. The warmth of the campfire close beside us casts a soft glow over the sand. I lay down first, the blanket cushioning my body, then reach out for Clarke. She's still standing, watching the fire, her hair almost gold by its light. I pull her gently down beside me, her body curling into mine instinctively.

"Hi," I just whisper.

"Hi," she just whispers back.

I wrap my arms around her, feeling her warmth against my chest, the steady rise and fall of her breath calming my own. The fire crackles, sending occasional sparks into the sky, but it's the sound of her heartbeat next to mine that really fills the silence. At moments like these, the world outside of our little bubble feels far away. Here, it's just us, the fire, and the endless ocean. As we're about to drift off under the starless sky, I hold her a little tighter.

I'm here, you're here, we're both still here.

And tomorrow, we just might get a little closer to there.

... ...

Chapter Text

The morning sun shimmers over the endless stretch of ocean, painting the water orange, gold and every shade in between. I squint against the glare, standing on the damp sand of the cove. Somewhere beyond the rocks, stolen by the night tide, Erin's boat floats - or so we hope. We need that boat; not just to get Erin home, but to find our own way forward. Without it, we're pretty much stranded.

Lexa stands beside me, scanning the water just like me. The sun catches her long hair, the strands wind-swept but still stubbornly falling into place, just like everything about her. I watch her for a beat too long, a mixture of gratitude and longing settling in my chest. She's here. Alive. After all this weeks, months even, I can still hardly believe it.

"Anything?" I ask, forcing my attention back to the task at hand.

Lexa shakes her head. "Nothing yet." She doesn't sound worried. If anything, there's a quiet determination in her voice.

Behind us, Octavia paces the beach impatiently. "We should've pulled it to the shore," she mutters. "Or at least anchored it."

"With the force of last night's waves, anchoring would have caused the stern to be pulled under water." Erin, standing near our pile of supplies, runs a hand through her messy hair. "It would have swamped, most likely even sank... if it hasn't anyway. And dragging it out? I bet dragging me out was challenging enough."

Raven, crouched near what's left of our campfire, looks up. "Let's not despair just yet. At least the storm blew over. And the wind direction was in our favor. It could still be here."

With my heart pounding, I scan the cove again. The ocean is vast, even here in the relative safety of the inlet. The boat could have drifted anywhere. But I, too, refuse to believe it's lost. Not after everything we've already been through.

"Wait," Lexa suddenly calls, pointing toward a cluster of rocks near the far end of the cove. "There." I follow her gaze. At first, I see nothing but water, but then... a dark shape, bobbing near the jagged rocks. My heart leaps. "That's it. That must be it!"

Raven scrambles for her binoculars, raising them to her eyes. "Ah yes, that's definitely yours, Erin. Looks like it's still intact." She lowers the binoculars, then pulls a face. "As in, it's not upside down. Can't tell much more from over here."

"Alright then," I exhale, rolling my shoulders, "let's bring it in."

"Sure," Octavia scoffs, making me turn to her. She raises a brow. "You up for the swim?"

She's got me there. Though I managed to learn the basics, I never got to master swimming. Not like she did. It's easily said, but we both know I wouldn't be the one plunging through the water.

"We don't have to swim," Lexa says to my relief. "Look. The water seems to be less deep over there. Like the boat is partially grounded on the shallows. Maybe we can climb over the rocks to reach it."

I squint my eyes, looking at the uneven cluster of boulders that form a natural barrier between the now much calmer bay and the brutal open sea. On our side of it, at the far end, the boat is trapped. It's risky, but it's our best shot.

Raven grabs her gear and slings it over her shoulder. "Alright, let's move. Before the tide does." Her voice sounds steady, but when we're actually standing in front of the pier her eyes flicker nervously between the rocks and the crashing waves below. Nevertheless, she's the first to step forward, climbing onto the first boulder with precision.

We follow closely, scrambling up the rocks. The rough stone bites into my palms as I push myself upward. The uneven surface is slick with sea spray. Lexa stays close to me; her hand brushing my arm as I navigate a particularly steep section, mine reaching out for her as she needs to bridge a nasty gap. The roar of the sea grows louder as we ascend, each boulder a new obstacle, a new challenge. The tide is rising, and we can feel the surge of water beneath us, the unforgiving pull of the current. A misstep could send us tumbling into the rocks below.

A shadow flickers in the corner of my vision, but when I turn, there's nothing. Just the rocks, the sea, and Octavia and Erin in our trail.

Right then, Erin slips, her foot skidding on a loose stone. A loud gasp escapes her as she grabs hold - not a second too late. With a grunt, and a quick hand from Octavia, she pulls herself back up. The tension in the air thickens.

When we finally reach the near end, the view gets clearer. The boat rocks gently in the water, its hull scraping against submerged rocks. It's still within reach, though probably not for long.

"We need to get a rope on it," I say, my eyes on the water below. "Someone has to go in."

Octavia is already stripping down and tying a rope around her waist. "I'll swim out and secure it," she says, saving me from having to offer. "Once I do, you guys pull me in."

"Be careful," Lexa warns, but Octavia just smirks.

"Now where's the fun in that?" she quips before diving in.

I watch as she cuts through the water with powerful strokes, reaching the boat quickly. She pulls herself up, testing the deck's stability before securing the rope. "Got it!" she calls back, giving us a thumbs-up.

We all grab the rope, bracing ourselves as we start pulling. The boat resists at first, caught between the pull of the tide and the sturdy rocks, but slowly, inch by inch, it starts to drift free. The waves work with us, carrying it closer until Octavia can jump into the shallows, shaking off seawater like a dog, and guide it in.

As soon as the hull scrapes the sand, I step forward, placing a hand on the side. The inside is wet, deck furniture and supplies are tossed around by the waves, but the damage seems minimal. Raven climbs onto the boat and moves toward the engine compartment, popping it open for inspection. Once she's seen enough, she enters the small cabin, leaving us waiting for her verdict.

"The engine looks good," she says after coming back out. "It took in some water, but nothing I can't fix on the spot."

"But?" Erin asks, reading Raven's wavering expression.

"But your generator needs a lot more work," Raven answers her, showing some broken parts. "Guess it fell over and got some blows. Plus the cabin got flooded, so you can count on some serious hydraulic damage."

Erin blinks a few times, then turns her gaze from Raven's hand back to her face. "You sound like a mechanic."

"Good," Raven nods, "Cause I am."

"Does that mean you can get the generator working as well?"

This time, Raven shakes her head. "Not here. I don't have the tools."

Slowly nodding, Erin stays quiet for a moment - her eyes now fixed on the horizon.

Raven turns back to the engine compartment. "Let me at least fix th—"

"We have them," Erin cuts her off. "The tools. My dad is a mechanic, too. Or... he was. Before his mind started to fail him."

I narrow my eyes. "You're saying we can come with you?"

When she meets my gaze, a small, hesitant smile curves her lips. "I guess so. If you still want to. Truth is, I really need some help with this. And it might be smart to learn some technical skills as well, now that we can't rely on my dad anymore." She faces Raven again. "You think you can teach me a thing or two?"

"Sure," Raven answers, "as long as it doesn't delay us too much."

"You're not the only one here on a quest," Octavia adds as a simple reminder, "And we like to be home before winter, too."

"I know," Erin nods, looking at us in turn, "And I will help you in return. I can take you to a few nearby islands. I've no clue who or what you're looking for, since they're all uninhabited, but if you want to check them out anyway, it's the least I can do."

Relief floods through me. "Alright then," I exclaim, a wide grin spreading across my face, "Let's get ready to sail."

Upon closer inspection, it turns out that it's not just the engine that needs repair. The starboard railing has come loose and there's a large crack in the bow that could cause problems if we were to ignore it. Nothing we can't fix with a tarpaulin and some ropes, though.

As we work, I glance at Erin, who keeps watching us quietly. There's something in her expression—hesitation, maybe. Grateful, but uncertain.

I step closer. "Hey, I get it," I tell her, "I'd be wary too, bringing strangers to my home. To my family. Trust doesn't come easy for any of us. But you can trust us. We really intend no harm."

Just like before, she softly smiles at me. "You guys saved my life. And my boat. That means something..."

With the boat secured, our bags loaded and our team growing stronger, we set out toward Erin's island. The boat rocks gently as we push through the waves, the salty spray cooling my skin. Lexa stands at the bow, the wind tugging at her shirt, her gaze locked on the horizon. I join her, leaning against the port railing. Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes for a second, letting the tension slip from my shoulders.

She glances at me, a small smile playing at her lips. "You're quiet."

I shrug, watching the sun climb higher in the bluish sky. "Just thinking."

Lexa tilts her head. "About?"

I let out a slow breath. "This. Us. Everything. We've spent so much time running, fighting, surviving. It's strange to just… sail."

She considers that, nodding. "It is." Then, after a pause, she adds, "It's a nice preview, isn't it?"

I turn to face her fully, my heartbeat skipping. "You still believe this could be our future?"

Lexa's eyes soften, a rare vulnerability in them. "I have to. Whether it's in a place like Alexandria, or somewhere else. I have to keep believing that, one day, we can stop running. That we find somewhere to go that isn't just the next battle. Maybe even... sail into the sunset together?"

A surprised laugh escapes me. "I'm sorry, I know much has changed. That you have changed. But still... you, the great Commander, dreaming of sailing off into the sunset?"

Her lips quirk into a smirk. "Even warriors dream, Clarke."

Reaching for her hand, I let her words settle between us. We stand there, the wind in our hair, the boat slicing through the water, and for a moment everything feels right.

"We should be there within an hour," Raven announces, popping up behind us.

I turn around, quickly grasping the railing again - my lack of sea legs more obvious than I'd like to admit. "Did you see the destination coordinates? Do they match ours?"

"They're within range," she nods, "Got to see a lot more in that cabin, though."

Next to me, Lexa frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Weapons," Raven answers, her voice lowered. "Erin's got a rifle. And quite some impressive knives."

"Which makes sense. We're not exactly roaming around unarmed, either," Lexa reminds her with a light shrug.

Raven crosses her arms. How does she stay so steady on this rocking boat? "I'm just saying we shouldn't underestimate her. Or her family. Definitely shouldn't piss them off."

"I agree," Lexa nods, a small smile creeping up her lips, "Good thing we keep scoring points saving her ass."

I look at Erin, who's standing behind the steering wheel, then back at Raven. "You really believe you can fix that generator?" I ask her.

"I'd think so," she smirks with confidence, right before I catch the twinkle in her eyes, "After all, I'm also the one who broke it."

... ...

Chapter Text

Erin's motorboat hums softly as it glides across the calm surface of the bay. All around us, hilly islands rise from the sea, their trees mostly bare, some still clinging to the last amber and rust-colored leaves of the season. Seabirds cry out from the rocks, their calls echoing back and forth between the cliffs.

As the boat rounds a headland, our destination comes into view; a quiet, crescent-shaped piece of land nestled in the curve of the bay. Behind it, a variety of tangled brush and trees cover most of the upward sloping land.

"Mom!" a sudden, clear voice carries over the water from afar, "Mom's back!"

Erin points at a boy standing at the end of a dock, next to a boathouse. He's about ten, eleven, I'd say from this distance, wearing a faded red windbreaker and a knit hat pulled low. Jumping up and down, his hand waves through the air.

Erin—clearly trusting the timber construction more than I would—waves back at him.

"That's my youngest," she says, "Billy."

"How many kids do you have?" I ask her.

My question brings a smile to her face. "Three. Though they're hardly kids anymore. Brad, my oldest, would be allowed to vote these days. And Jordan, my daughter, would be starting her driving lessons by now. You know, if the world hadn't fallen apart." As she shakes her head, a sorrowful sigh falls from her lips. "Won't take long before Billy is all grown up, too. While he could barely walk when we got here. My baby boy..."

I raise my brow. "You must have found this place shortly after the outbreak then?"

"My parents knew about its existence. They spent their honeymoon here." She nods toward the inland. "Like the surrounding ones, this island was virtually uninhabited. There was a hotel, however. A small one, with only six rooms. The island itself had little more to offer than some narrow beaches and a bunch of hiking trails, but apparently there are people, like my folks, who prefer that to Hawaii or Vermont."

As by itself, my gaze drifts to Clarke, who's still sitting at the bow, enjoying the faint warmth of the sun with her eyes closed. A grin tugs at my lips. "Well, they were newly weds. How much more did they really need?"

"Ha!" Erin laughs, "You've clearly never been to Hawaii!" Pulling the lever backward, she slows down the boat as it nears the island. "Anyway, immediately after the fall, they insisted on going here. And on staying after arriving, even when it turned out the hotel had been closed and abandoned for years and needed a lot of maintenance. So we've been here ever since. Only leaving to stock up."

The motor drops to a low murmur before cutting off completely. On deck, Octavia takes the mooring line and is about to jump onto the dock, only to freeze in motion. It takes me less than a second to see why. Two men with rifles approach us. So much for the warm welcome.

Luckily, Erin catches them too. Rushing out of the cabin, she calls out to them.

"David, you can lower that weapon! You too, Brad! It's all good."

"It doesn't look like it," David—I assume—grumbles. "Who are these people? What do they want?"

Erin gets off the boat. None of us follow.

"I got in trouble. They helped me. Saved me even! And they're gonna help us some more," she tells her husband, gently resting her hand on the barrel of his gun to press it down. He doesn't get the chance to fight her. Before either of the men can ask more questions, the boy—Billy was it?—runs past them, throwing his arms around his mother for a tight hug.

"You were gone so long," he cries out, "I thought you wouldn't coming back!"

"Of course I came back," Erin smiles into his ruffled hair, before kissing his cheek, "I promised you, didn't I?"

Billy frees himself, mumbling, "Yeah, just like uncle Dan..."

"Uhm, Erin?" David cuts back in, "These women...?" Though his rifle is no longer aimed at us, his finger is still curled around the trigger. "You know we're not taking any strangers in."

"We're not taking them in," she answers without a blink, yet with a kind, reassuring smile, "We're just helping each other out while they're passing by. And they're not strangers - not anymore." She turns to us, gesturing to come off board, while introducing us all one by one. "This is Raven... Octavia... Clarke... and Lexa."

I step onto the dock, the boardwalk more steady under my feet than expected. The boat gently rocks behind me. I make sure to keep my eyes on these people though.

Clarke steps forward to shake hands, which seems to help a bit in lifting the heavy air, making us quickly follow her example.

"I found a generator," Erin already goes on, "It needs some work, but Raven here is gonna help us with that." She turns toward her. "I'd say we have lunch first, then use the afternoon for some repair work. You okay with that?"

"With having lunch first?" Raven laughs, "Always!"

David slings his rifle over his back. Now that he manages to relax a little, he actually looks quite friendly.

"I guess for once, Kate still cooking for too many people is actually a good thing," he shrugs with a crooked grin that deepens the lines around his eyes, right before turning around to lead the way. Erin, close in his tracks, asks him how they're all doing; her parents in particular. I only catch part of his update—her father is doing alright, considering, but her mother seems to be getting worse, now even forgetting who they are at moments, herself included—as I'm too distracted by taking in our surroundings.

The stillness of the island is striking, almost sacred. Time feels slower here, suspended. I breathe in deeply, the air rich and clean, then swiftly take my first steps forward - into the heart of this secluded hideout, surrounded by calm water, tall trees and rolling hills.

The ground is covered in a soft carpet of fallen leaves that crunch gently beneath our boots. Sunlight filters through the branches, casting dappled patterns across the path, while the rustling of leaves overhead creates a peaceful soundtrack to our walk. Looking up, I catch a squirrel darting from tree to tree. As we move deeper into the woods, the landscape shifts, with the trees growing denser. Occasionally, the path narrows, drawing us closer to nature, but then it quickly widens again, allowing us to take in the full beauty of the season.

After a short while, the trees begin to thin out. We emerge from the forest through a gate into an open space, a gentle rise of land leading to a building ahead - the former hotel, I presume. Its structure tells the story of a bygone era, now transformed into a home. The house is surrounded by a lush garden, with flowers and shrubs bordering the wide path leading up to the front door.

Just beyond the garden, I spot a few goats—and even a cow—grazing lazily in a small meadow, while chickens peck contentedly nearby, their soft clucks adding to the peaceful ambiance. Off to the other side, a vegetable garden thrives. The high, stone wall surrounding the entire premises is the only visible evidence of protection. And yet, it seems sufficient.

As we approach, I can't help but feel the serenity of this spot, nestled between the vibrant forest and the open fields—a perfect retreat. Despite their no-visitors policy, the house looks welcoming, breathing a quiet charm. The kind of place that seems to be untouched by time.

And then I see her.

The girl stands in the shade near the edge of the house, half-hidden behind a wooden beam, watching us. She's tall for a sixteen-year-old, if I picked up on that fact correctly, with dark curls braided loosely down her back. She wears combat boots that seem too big and a worn jacket that swallows her frame. She looks like she doesn't care about either.

My breath catches before I can stop it.

It's not possible.

But the tilt of her head, the arch of her brow, the way her fingers twitch like she's ready to snap into action—it's her. Not her exactly, but close enough to make my heart lurch.

Costia.

I haven't seen her face in years. And now it's staring back at me through this stranger.

Erin calls her over. "Jordan, come say hi."

Jordan. Not Costia. Never was, never been.

She steps forward, her expression guarded but curious. Her eyes meet mine for just a second, and it's like being thrown into another life. Tent cloths, candlelight, her laugh soft and full of secrets. I can smell the leather of her armor. I remember the curve of her lips as she leaned in to whisper something that didn't matter except that it came from her.

But Jordan doesn't smile. She just nods and offers a small, polite "Hey" before turning her gaze to Clarke.

She doesn't know me. Of course she doesn't.

There's no recognition in her. No flicker of connection. Just a girl raised in a secluded world, standing on the threshold of a new experience. There's no bloodline, no reincarnation. Costia was never a Nightblood. She couldn't be reborn.

Still, the memory hits me like a blade to the gut.

I barely hear Clarke introduce us. I mumble my name, like I'm on auto-pilot, and when Jordan walks away, I don't realize I'm still staring until Clarke gently touches my arm.

"You okay?" she asks quietly, careful almost.

I force a nod. "Fine."

But I'm not. Not even close.

As we step inside the house, I try to keep my breathing even. The air is warm and carries the scent of something cooking. Stew, maybe, or something baked. It smells like comfort. There's singing somewhere. Sur le Pont d'Avignon.

The home is worn but clean, full of hand-built furniture and carefully patched blankets. Everything has a place. There are some old family photos on the walls, faded and sun-drenched, capturing faces before the world turned. Smiles that don't know what's coming.

Erin's parents are both in the kitchen. They must be in their late-seventies, maybe even early-eighties. Yet their eyes are alert as soon as we walk in.

After a quick reassurance, informing them that it's all safe, Erin introduces them to us with a warm smile and a hand on her father's shoulder. Randall stands tall despite his years, his weathered face marked with sunspots, his hands big and strong. Kate, though frail and wrinkled, moves around like she remembers a time when she could dance.

"Welcome," she says, her voice soft and stretched thin at the edges. "It's been a long time since we've had new faces in our house."

Clarke steps forward with that open, diplomatic smile that always manages to soften people. To soften me, once. "Thank you for having us. I'm Clarke. This is Raven, Octavia… and Lexa."

"You're all skin and bone," Kate says, peering at us with narrowed eyes. "We better fix that."

She turns and shuffles toward the stove without waiting for a reply. Erin follows, taking over with practiced ease. Randall just chuckles.

"She's still got her fire," he says, glancing our way. "Even if it flickers sometimes."

We sit at a long wooden table. It's a tight fit with all of us, but no one seems to mind. Clarke sits beside me, close but not touching. Raven talks with David across the table, something about solar panels and rigged batteries. Brad, their eldest, tries hard not to stare at Octavia.

He fails.

She doesn't seem to notice, or she's pretending not to. Her eyes flick toward him once, calculated and sharp. He flushes crimson and busies himself with a glass of water.

I try to focus on them. On everyone... everyone but the girl. But I can't.

Jordan sits across from me, wedged between Billy and Kate. She picks at the sleeve of her jacket, but watches everything with that same quiet curiosity. Her eyes move constantly—assessing, absorbing, hungry for something beyond the safety of this island.

"You've all been on the mainland?" she asks suddenly, interrupting Raven and David mid-sentence. "I mean, past the coastline?"

Clarke nods. "A lot farther than that."

"What's it like?" Jordan leans forward, as if she might miss the answer if she's not close enough.

Raven grins. "Broken. Dirty. A lot of people who want to kill you. Some who don't."

Jordan doesn't flinch. "Still sounds better than this."

Erin shoots her daughter a look. "Jordan."

"What?" she shrugs. "I'm not saying I hate it here. I just wanna know things. It's not a crime."

Kate pats Jordan's hand, tenderly. "It's not, dear. Just like your feet, your mind is supposed to wander."

After giving her grandmother a tight smile, Jordan returns her gaze to us. "What's the farthest you've been?"

Raven opens her mouth, but Octavia speaks first. "North. Cold country. Snow, real snow. White-out storms and frozen lakes you can walk across."

Jordan's eyes go wide. "Did you?"

"Of course," Octavia smirks, tearing a chunk of bread in half. "Fell through the ice once, too. Got pulled out by a wolf pack."

Brad stares openly now, lips parted just slightly. If he drools, I may actually laugh.

"No wolves here," Billy mutters, "Just goats."

"Now don't underestimate them," David reminds him, chuckling into his cup. "That one goat nearly killed you last spring."

The table breaks into light laughter. It's natural, easy. Yet I'm hardly part of it.

Clarke glances at me, searching. I give her a small nod. I'm fine. I'm here.

To show her, I pick up my fork to take another bite, but right then I get distracted again. Kate suddenly freezes mid-reach for the salt, blinking down at her hands like she's forgotten where she is.

"Mom?" Erin says, her voice gentle.

Kate looks up, eyes wet and confused. "Where's… where's Dan? He was just here."

The table stills. A long, quiet pause.

Randall reaches over and takes her hand. "He's not, sweetheart. Remember? It's just us now."

"Oh." Kate breathes out, a fragile exhale. "Right. I'm sorry."

Jordan covers her grandmother's hand with hers. "It's okay, Grams."

Kate looks at her for a moment longer. "You look so much like her… Like she used to…"

My spine stiffens. I know what she means. I mean, she doesn't, of course. She's talking about someone else from before. A young Erin maybe, or another relative. But I feel the chill of it slide down my back anyway.

Lunch continues, a little quieter now. Randall picks up the slack, drawing Clarke into a story about growing up in the fifties. Raven makes Billy laugh with a joke about wolfgoats. Octavia smirks at Brad and lets him stew in the awkwardness of his brewing crush.

And Jordan watches it all with that same flickering hunger, like she's trying to memorize the way it feels to be part of something bigger than these walls.

I eat mechanically. My eyes stray to Jordan again and again, no matter how hard I try to focus elsewhere.

Not her.
Not her.

But everything she does—how she frowns when she concentrates, the edge of sarcasm in her voice, the way she bites her nail when she thinks no one's watching—it is her.

And it's not.

I push my plate away before I'm finished and excuse myself quietly, stepping out onto the porch as the wind picks up from the sea. I hear Clarke's chair scrape a few seconds later. She doesn't follow. She just waits.

Good.

I need space.

The island smells like pine and rosemary, sunbaked wood, soil and smoke. Ancient, like the ache in my chest. Like something I buried a long time ago, clawing its way back to the surface.

It shouldn't hurt like this.

I lean forward, hands braced on the railing, eyes fixed on the horizon, pretending it holds answers. Past the trees, the sea stretches endlessly, quiet and indifferent.

Behind me, the door opens and closes with a soft click. I don't turn. I know it's her.

Clarke waits a few beats before crossing the porch and stopping beside me, close enough that I feel her warmth. She doesn't touch me though. She never pushes.

"You're not fine," she says quietly.

I exhale through my nose. "No."

Silence stretches again. She doesn't fill it. She lets me gather the words.

"She looks like her," I finally say. "Jordan. Not exactly, but… enough. Enough to remember."

Clarke gazes at me. "Costia."

I nod, staring in the distance again. "It's more than just her face. It's the way she moves, how she watches people. Her voice. Her sarcasm." My throat tightens. "She even bites her nail the same way when she's thinking."

Leaning on the railing next to me, she draws her brows in softly. "You didn't remember her until now?"

"Not like this," I admit. "I- I buried the memories about her. I had to. They were too entangled with the guilt, the shame. They still are. Always remembering me what I didn't do. How I'd failed to protect her."

Clarke stays quiet. She lets me speak. Lets it come out the way I need it to.

"So I locked them away. Every memory I had. And I said: never again. I decided that."

"Love is weakness," Clarke murmurs.

I finally look at her.

Her face is soft, her voice without judgment. Just memory. Just truth.

"That's how I survived it," I say. "That's how I made it through."

Her expression doesn't change, but I see the understanding in her eyes. And the ache.

"But now," I continue, "now we're here. And she's here - in a way. And it's all coming back. Who she was. How they took her. That I couldn't—" I stop myself, chest tight, gasping for air. "It's suffocating."

My hands clench the wood. Clarke watches me, then finally steps closer, her hand brushing mine, her fingers slowly curling around it until I let her hold on.

"You're still carrying it," she says. "You never got closure."

I nod once, slowly. "Even if I'd wanted—or knew how to— there wasn't time. There was always another war. Another alliance to manage. I shoved it down and moved on. Eyes forward."

She squeezes my hand. "There's time now," she reminds me, her voice almost a whisper.

"You think that's why I'm... feeling all this? Because we're safe?"

"Safer, at least," she shrugs, "When things slow down, ghosts catch up."

I turn back toward the view, my voice quieter now. "I don't know what to do with it."

"You don't have to do anything." She steps in front of me, gently guiding my face toward hers. "You just have to let it happen. Feel it. Be honest about it. And stop punishing yourself for being human."

I close my eyes, my jaw twitching. "I told myself that I could live without love," I murmur. "That it was safer. Cleaner. But then you walked into my life, and ruined that. And I let you."

Clarke's hand moves to my cheek, her thumb brushing lightly across my skin. "I'm glad I did."

I open my eyes again. Clarke smiles at me, that sweet smile she keeps just for when we're alone. I exhale shakily and let my forehead rest against hers. Her breath is warm, grounding.

"I'm terrified that this pain means I never really healed," I sigh.

"No one heals from something like that, Lexa. Not fully. You learn how to carry it better. You find people who help you shoulder it." Her arms tighten around me. "Let me help you carry this."

The wind brushes past us. Somewhere behind the house, I hear Billy laughing. A door creaks. Birds call from the trees.

Without another word, I just nod.

We stay like that for a while, holding the weight of memory together, on this quiet porch, at the edge of a world that's finally stopped trying to kill us.

For now.

... ...

Chapter Text

The full moon hangs low, casting silver trails across the water. The dock creaks beneath our weight as Clarke and I walk in silence, the air thick with night sounds; the distant chirp of crickets, the gently rippling waves, the occasional splash of a fish breaking the surface. The island has gone still behind us, everyone tucked in after the long day we all had. The generator, now fixed, leaving a light on for us. A beacon to find our way back.

Clarke leads the way, flashlight in one hand, her fingers of the other brushing mine until I take her hand, letting her guide me. The stars reflect off the water like a second sky, and for a moment I almost forget where I am.

Just the dock, the sea, and her.

She stops at the edge of the boardwalk and sits, pulling her legs up and tucking her knees close, motioning for me to join her. I do, knees bent, arms loose, but my body tense in a way I can't quite seem to unlearn.

"I've been thinking about what we talked about earlier," she quietly speaks.

My jaw tightens. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes find mine in an instant, confusion swirling in them. "What for?!"

"For burdening you with all that," I shrug, embarrassed by the memory. "You just lost your mom, and I—"

"You needed me. Like I needed you," she stops me, "Like I still need you, every day. But that doesn't mean there's no place for you. Together, we can handle both of our baggage."

I swallow hard. "I hate that it's affecting me like this. I feel like I'm betraying you. Or betraying her. I don't even know which one."

Clarke doesn't flinch. She just moves closer, placing her hand over mine.

"You're not betraying anyone," she says, firm now. "Loving me doesn't erase what you felt for her. And I'm not afraid of your past."

My gaze moves from our hands back to her face. "No?"

"No!" She smiles at me, warm and sincere. "I know your heart, Lexa. I know how much room it holds."

I stare down at the dark water, at the starlight dancing across the surface. Everything in me feels cracked open.

Close beside me, Clarke studies me carefully, then clears her throat.

"So, as I said, I've been thinking," she tries again, "About closure. About how you never got it." She reaches into the small canvas satchel she brought with her and pulls out five flat pebble stones. Each one is smooth and pale, rounded at the edges from years of water and weather. I look at them, then at her. "I don't know what would help," she goes on, "but I thought maybe this could be something."

She lays them out between us, one by one, the moonlight catching the faint carvings scratched carefully into each.

LOSS. ANGER. GUILT. PAIN. REMEMBRANCE.

My breath catches when I read them. Each word settles into me like a weight I didn't realize I was still carrying.

"I thought," Clarke begins gently, "we could skip them. The first four, at least. One by one. Talk about them, if you want, then let them go."

I look at the stones again. At her hands. At her face.

"It's silly," I murmur.

"It's symbolic," she corrects me, not unkindly. "And sometimes, symbols are how we heal."

I gaze at the first word.

LOSS.

The carving is simple, a little uneven, but clear. Likely done with her knife and a lot of patience.

"You don't have to do it," she says, more quiet now. "But I'll be here if you do."

I reach for the stone. It fits perfectly in my palm.

I stare at it for a long time.

"I thought I knew loss," I say at last, my words more breath than voice. "After all, I'd dealt with it. With my parents. My Natblida friends. But losing her... there was no preparing for that. And no recovery." My fingers close around the stone. "I never let myself feel it. Not really. I turned it into rage. Into order. I let it harden me."

"You lost yourself, too," Clarke points out. "But not anymore."

I nod, my teeth clenched by this harsh reality. The injustice of it all. In a way, they'd taken two lives. Clarke is right though. I claimed mine back.

Standing up, I step to the very edge of the dock and pull my arm back.

The stone skips once. Twice. Then sinks.

I sit again, catching my breath. Clarke watches me, then wordlessly hands me the next stone.

ANGER.

This one is heavier. Not just in weight, but in what it means.

"I hated them," I whisper. "All of them. The ones who killed her. The ones who let it happen. Myself, for being one of them. Because I knew she died because of me." I hold the stone tighter, squeeze it until my knuckles turn white; not sure if I want to hurt it, or myself. "She died because of who I was. What I represented. They sent her head in a box to remind me that love was a liability - loving me was a liability. And they were right."

"You still believe that?"

When I turn to look at her, a deep, sorrowful sigh falls from my lips. "The bullet that got me was meant for you, Clarke."

"And yet we're still here," she says gently. "Both of us."

"By a freaking miracle. But yes," I mumble, nodding again, "we are."

My gaze moves back to the pebble in my hand, the word written on it. This one takes longer to throw, my fingers hesitating at the edge.

We won, I tell myself. Victory over anger.

Then I let it go. The stone hits hard, skips three times, before disappearing into the dark.

We don't say anything, until Clarke places the third stone in my hand.

GUILT.

I stare at it. This is the one I should live with. The one I have to live with. The one that belongs to me.

"You can't take this away from me," I tell her. It feels like only yesterday when I told Strand to forgive himself. Now I realize that's not always a choice. Not always what we deserve.

She shakes her head, slowly, and with softness in her eyes. Even in the moonlight, they are bright and calming. "I'm not taking anything," she eases me, "But can you tell me why, maybe?"

"I was responsible," I shrug. "I should've seen it coming. I was a leader. I swore to protect my people. But I couldn't even protect her."

"Lex, you were barely sixteen! If you two were anything like Jordan, you were just kids."

"And then I didn't mourn her," I go on unabated, though I did hear her. Though some part of me knows she's right. "Even worse, I denied her. Didn't bid her farewell. Not even a yu gonplei ste odon, or any other last words. Who... who doesn't..."

Clarke rests her hand on the small of my back, stroking it slightly in encouragement. "It's never too late. You showed me that, more than once," she reminds me. "What would you tell her?"

I rise to my feet again, tilt my head toward the stars. With my eyes closed, I inhale deeply. And then, to my own surprise, the words roll out as by themselves. As if they'd always been there, waiting.

"I'm sorry," I whisper - to Costia, to the girl she was, to the ghost that's been lingering in my shadow all these years. "For not protecting you. For surviving when you didn't. For shutting you away instead of mourning you. I'm sorry."

My fingers tighten, then release.

I let the guilt fall.

No dramatic skip. Just a clean drop, vanishing into the deep.

When I return to Clarke, she is holding the fourth stone.

PAIN.

She doesn't speak. Just hands it to me like she knows I'll understand what to do.

My thumb brushes the smooth surface, almost mindlessly. "Pain was the price I paid. I thought I needed it to remember what happened to her. Like letting go of the pain meant forgetting she mattered."

I sit down again, my feet dangling off the edge, a few inches above the water. Clarke turns toward me.

"You don't have to suffer to prove she was real."

"Yeah," I nod, pensive, biting my bottom lip - but no longer to hurt myself. "I'm starting to see that."

I take another deep breath. Then throw the stone with more strength than before.

It skips five times before sinking.

The moment it does, something like peace settles into my chest.

Four down, one to go. I withdraw my eyes from the rippling circles on the surface, looking at Clarke again. She offers me the last stone.

REMEMBRANCE.

"This one," she says, "you keep."

I take it carefully. It's lighter than the others. Or maybe I'm lighter now?

"This one isn't for letting go," she continues. "It's for holding on. For honoring what she meant to you without letting it consume you. For remembering the good. The love, the joy, the way she made you feel before the world took all that away."

I stare down at the word, carved with clear dedication.

"She used to sing," I say, a grin ghosting across my face. "Badly. And off-key. Just to make me roll my eyes. Once, she serenaded me in front of my guards with a war ballad rewritten as a love song."

Clarke smiles. "Tell me more."

So I do. I tell her a memory, and then another one. One that isn't laced in blood or hate. One that smells like jasmine and sounds like laughter. I tell her about the time Costia convinced me to skip a meeting and run barefoot through a rainstorm. About the way she danced like no one was watching, even when the entire court was. About late-night poems, whispered jokes, stolen kisses. About the way she braided her hair with wildflowers - and mine too, if I wasn't paying attention.

And Clarke listens—not threatened, not distant—but present, grounding me with her quiet strength. When I stop, she reaches out and covers my hand with hers. The pebble stone resting between our palms.

"She mattered," she nods, "And now, you can remember her for who she was. Not just how she was lost."

Only then I let myself cry.

Not loudly. Not brokenly. Just the quiet kind of crying that comes from old wounds finally exhaling.

Clarke's arms circle around me. We sit like that for a long time—wrapped in the quiet, wrapped in each other—while the water swallows my grief. The sea has taken what it needed to take. And what remains is mine to keep.

I tuck the remembrance stone into my pocket.

Not as a weight.

But as a small, smooth piece of peace.

... ...

Chapter Text

The day is just beginning, the sky still pale by the early light of dawn. The sounds of the island are starting to come to life. Birds calling out from the trees, chirping squirrels, the rhythmic ripple of water against the shore. It's peaceful, like the world is holding its breath.

Raven has taken the morning to teach Erin some mechanics. Randall's helping too. They all seemed excited to get their hands a little greasy. Octavia, David and Brad are out on the boat, fishing. The sound of their laughter carries faintly in the breeze, but here it's just the two of us.

Just like last night, I sit on the edge of the dock, my legs stretched out in front of me, the wood rough under my palms. Beside me, Lexa is quiet. Yet there's a different kind of quiet to her today. A kind that feels at ease, almost like she's finally breathing, slowly and deeply.

I glance over at her, watch the way the early light plays across her features. She's always been beautiful, but there's something softer in her expression this morning. The tension that usually lives in her shoulders seems to have lessened, and her eyes seem no longer clouded with the weight of all the things she's lost.

I'm unsure whether it's the calmness of the island or something that happened last night—or both—but I want to know.

"How are you doing?" I ask quietly, my voice almost lost in the breeze.

Her eyes turn toward me, the faintest smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "I feel better," she answers, her voice steady, "Lighter." She nods, almost to herself, and her smile widens a little. "Last night... it helped. It's like I'm not carrying as much anymore."

I mirror her smile, because I can hear it. I can see it in her posture, in the way she's sitting more relaxed now, like she's finally letting herself be here. Not just surviving, but actually living.

"That's good," I say softly, "I'm glad."

There's a pause between us, but it's not uncomfortable. We're not rushing for conversation. We're just here, existing in this space that we've created together. The peace of the island, the peace of us, mingling together.

My mind goes back to our night before, to the way we'd shed the burdens of her past together. There had been something cathartic about it, watching the stones sink one by one, each symbol of her past finally leaving her, sinking into the water where it couldn't hurt her anymore. I know it will be a long process, but last night felt like the first real step toward healing.

"I saw you this morning... with Jordan," I murmur, remembering how Lexa had looked at her when they passed each other in the kitchen. Lexa's smile had been small but real. "You didn't look so… hurt. Not like you did yesterday."

Lexa looks away briefly, her eyes casting down at the water, her fingers absently trailing along the wooden planks. "No. It didn't hurt. Not in the same way, at least." Her voice is quiet, thoughtful. "Seeing her... it felt different now. I think I actually saw her now. Not the reminder of what I lost. But her. She's her own person."

My chest feels tight at her words. I can tell that this isn't just about Jordan. It's about Lexa, too. About finally being able to breathe again, to exhale. About coming to terms with the past without letting it drown her.

"That's really good, Lex," I nod, my heart full of pride for her. "I can't imagine what it feels like, to carry something like that for so long. But I'm glad you're feeling better. Really." I reach for her hand, my fingers brushing gently against hers, and she doesn't hesitate to grasp it. It's a simple touch, but it means everything.

The corner of her mouth curves upward again, though this time it's less fleeting. It's real. It's her.

"Thank you for helping me," she smiles, batting her eyes.

"Thank you for letting me," I smile in return.

With the sun climbing higher, the warmth of it slowly reaches us. The moment feels quiet and intimate, the world still waiting for the day to truly begin. It feels like a pause - a moment in time that might just stretch on forever. But when Lexa squeezes my hand, and I meet her gaze, I know that she doesn't need a break.

That she's not waiting for anything.

Her eyes flicker toward the boathouse behind us, the old structure standing just a little beyond the dock. An unspoken understanding passes between us. It's not so much a question as it is an invitation.

She stands slowly, her fingers still holding mine as she pulls me up beside her, my heart quickening in anticipation. There's nothing hurried in her movements. Just a quiet, knowing sense of purpose.

I follow her, the soft crunch of our footsteps on the ground the only sound as we walk toward the boathouse.

We slip in. The door creaks closed behind us, sealing us away from the rest of the world. The inside is dim, the light filtering through small cracks in the wooden walls. There's the faint scent of saltwater in the air, mingled with the warm, rich scent of timber and leather. It's intimate, private. Just the two of us.

She steps closer to me, the distance between us shrinking, until she's so near that I can feel the heat of her body, hear the steady rhythm of her breath. When her hands find my waist, her fingers sneaking underneath the hem of my sweater, my breath catches in my throat. Every touch is a reminder of how far we've come, of how much we've rebuilt.

I look up at her, my heart racing. She doesn't wait for me to speak.

Her lips brush mine in a kiss that is slow, deep, filled with unspoken truths. The softness of it is overwhelming, a tenderness that wraps around me, pulls me in.

My hands move gently, almost reverently, over her body. The kiss deepens, slow and steady. Her hands find their way to my back, pulling me closer, as if she's reminding herself that I'm here, that we're here, and this is real.

Only when she pulls back, just slightly, her forehead resting against mine, I break our silence.

"Are you sure?" I whisper, my breath ragged. But I already know the answer. She doesn't need to say it.

Instead, she pulls me in again, her kiss filled with intensity. I let myself sink into it, into her. Her hands are on me, gentle but insistent, until she guides me toward the worn Chesterfield in the corner. We sit together, lips never fully parting. Every touch, every kiss, feels like it's pulling us closer, like we're shedding layers of ourselves.

I feel her hands moving over me, exploring, as if she's trying to memorize every curve, every inch of my skin. I do the same, my fingers tracing the outline of her jaw, her neck, sliding down her sides, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the soft fabric of her clothes. Clothes that start to come off, piece by piece. Neither of us is in a rush, though. It's slow. Steady. Every movement a confirmation that we're here: living, breathing and loving fully.

As her lips trail along my skin, I close my eyes, letting the sensation fill me, because this—this—is how we embrace what we've found, and how we let everything else fall away.

She pauses, just for a moment, and her eyes find mine again. There's no question in them. No uncertainty. Just pure connection.

And then we move together, with a quiet urgency that matches the intensity of everything we've shared, and everything we've become.

... ...

By the time we leave the boathouse, the sun has lifted even higher into the sky. The air is thick with salt and the quiet buzz of insects moving through the tall grass that fringes the path. If it even is a path. Once you move beyond the house and its kept gardens, the island has a wildness to it, with most of it left to nature.

Lexa walks ahead of me, her boots brushing against the mossy undergrowth. Even more than before, I can tell she's at ease, like something inside her has shifted. She holds herself differently, shoulders a little looser, movements a little less guarded. I match her pace, fingers brushing against low-hanging leaves and ferns, listening to the soft rhythm of our steps.

"This place is something," I say eventually, not because the silence needs to be broken, but because I want to hear her voice again.

She glances back at me with a small smile. "It is."

We walk a little further before I say, "You think you could live here? This secluded from the world?"

Lexa doesn't answer right away. She moves a branch aside with a sweep of her hand, and I follow through the gap, emerging into a patch of spotted sunlight. Then she looks back at me again.

"I do," she says quietly. "I think I could."

"Me too," I admit, slowing down as we reach a gentle incline. "Somewhere untouched. Safe. Just us."

Her lips twist into something wry. "Safe if no one dies."

I chuckle. "Details."

She raises a brow. "That's not just a detail, Clarke. One bad fall, one illness... Boom! Walkers."

"Yes, okay, but we're protected," I point out, "If we made sure we're all Nightbloods..."

"But that's the thing. We never could," she counters, "An island this size is hard to defend. When people find it without your knowing, they can and will come ashore. Unprotected. Bringing risk, even without bad intentions."

"I know." I take a step up the incline and offer her my hand. She takes it. "Still it seems safer than Alexandria."

"Alexandria has walls."

"Yes," I nod, "But also a lot of people. People who are unprotected, and trapped in when someone turns. Plus it's easy to find. Not just by walkers, but by anyone. Raiders, criminals. You can literally just walk by. While these islands... well, they are not even on the map."

Lexa's hand tightens around mine. "That's true," she smiles, agreeingly, "I've gotta give it to Erin's folks, coming here was a smart move of them. I'd give a lot to live like this."

It's the way she says it - that word. Live. Not survive. Not endure. It plants something deep in my chest.

We keep walking. The trail becomes less of a trail and more of a series of guesses. The earth is uneven, and in places, the underbrush has grown unchecked. Trees arch overhead, their trunks thick with time. Lexa has always had an instinct for paths, even ones long faded. Her eyes move across the land with purpose, scanning for clues; a dip in the terrain, a worn patch of moss, broken stones half-swallowed by earth.

Eventually, we stumble into a clearing. The grass is shorter here, flattened in places by wind or time. At first, I think it's just an open spot—random, like so many we've passed—but then I see the shapes.

Half-buried stones.

Chunks of concrete.

Arranged not at random, but in a rough ring, weathered and broken by time.

Lexa stops beside me, her brow furrowing. "This wasn't nature."

I move closer, crouching near a fragment that juts from the soil. The edges are softened by age, but there's geometry to it - something purposeful.

"No," I murmur. "Someone built this."

We walk the perimeter slowly. The stones are too low to be proper walls, not like the ruins of old buildings or bunkers we've seen before. But they form a shape, a deliberate one. It's not a perfect circle, as I first thought. As we trace it, our steps marking points on the circumference, something else takes shape.

"One, two, three..." I count aloud, marking corners as we go. Lexa does the same, on the opposite side.

"Eight," she finishes, meeting me across from where we started. "Octagonal."

I nod slowly, looking around us again with new eyes. The size, the symmetry, the openness of the structure. It clicks into place in my mind, like a memory surfacing.

"It's the shape," I murmur, half to myself.

Lexa tilts her head. "Of what?"

I walk toward the center, stepping over a moss-covered beam that might have once been a support. I spin slowly in place, looking at the different angles.

I shake my head. "I don't know yet. But it's familiar."

The breeze shifts around us, moving the trees gently, and for a moment, the sound of the ocean filters in again. We're not far from the coast. The way the land slopes slightly downward on one side suggests it might've been chosen for visibility. Someone built this with intent. With purpose.

Lexa steps up beside me, her arm brushing mine. "Clarke?"

"It was a lighthouse."

"What?" Looking back down at the remnants, Lexa frowns. "How do you know?"

"I've seen it before," I breathe, the words falling out of me.

Her eyes find mine again, narrow and confused. "Where?"

I peer around me, taking in the scenery once more. A thread of the past reaches forward, tugging at something I hoped I'd long since buried.

"I think," I answer, "I think it was right here."

... ...

We don't run, not quite, but our pace quickens, our feet skimming against overgrown grass and tangled roots as we make our way back. Lexa's silence behind me speaks volumes. Her mind is racing too.

As soon as we're back at the house, we start searching for Raven. We climb the front steps and enter the hallway, our boots echoing softly on the wood. That's when I hear voices. Raised. Sharp.

We exchange a glance. Then we move.

When we reach the kitchen, the change in energy is unmistakable. It's tense - like a rubber band stretched too far. Raven stands near the table, clutching her weathered backpack in her hands, her jaw clenched. Across from her, Kate is trembling, her voice caught somewhere between anger and desperation.

"Give it back," she demands. "That's Dan's. It's his."

I can tell Raven is trying to stay calm and considerate. We learned last night that Dan is Erin's brother, who's gone missing. He left years ago, together with his husband, for a supply run. They never returned. Despite her efforts though, I know that look in Raven's eyes; defensive, measured, trying not to snap. She frowns, her voice steady but firm. "It's not, Kate. It's mine."

"Don't lie to me!" Kate lunges for the bag, trying to tug it away from her. "It's his, he needs it, he need—"

"Mom." Erin's voice cuts through the room. "Mom, stop. Listen to me."

But Kate doesn't, she just keeps pulling. Even when Raven doesn't let go, her grip strong enough to handle the old lady.

"I said give it back!"

"Kate," Randall says gently, stepping forward. Yet she flinches away from his touch.

"He's coming back," Kate goes on, louder now. "He needs it. You have no right—"

"Mom," Erin tries again, "Mom, please. Dan's not— he's not coming back. Remember? We talked about this."

Kate doesn't seem to hear her. "Let go of it!" she barks again at Raven. "You people think you can just come in here and—"

The backpack jerks in both women's hands... and then it gives.

The flap opens, a small collection of items spilling to the floor: an old canteen, a cracked flashlight, a necklace with a metal bird pendant.

And one other thing.

It lands with a soft, metallic clink, spinning slightly on its side before settling. A gleam of crystal matrix, smooth and familiar. The hair on the back of my neck rises instantly.