Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"It was dark now. A thin moon was visible, a bright portent, but giving no light."

― Iris Murdoch, The Message to the Planet

"One day your anger and resentment won't be enough to sustain you."

Inwardly, Jasper groaned at the remark, mostly because of the person it slithered out from.

Luna. He didn't want to talk to Luna.

Didn't want to have anything to do with her, not after the hell he'd watched unfold back on that oil rig.

But, of course, she'd happened to be in the room when he and Monty had gotten into another one of their fights.

Although it could hardly be called a fight when it mostly consisted of Jasper pelting barbed remarks at his oh-so-loyal friend, hoping that one would pierce his thickening skin and be enough to create a break, whilst Monty did his utmost best to take it all with good grace.

He felt bad about it, in the aftermath.

The way someone would feel bad about kicking a dog that would never bite back.

But that didn't stop him from doing it again. And again.

Idly, he wondered who he hated most these days.

Monty.

Or himself.

Jasper turned to face the woman standing a short distance away.

She smiled a little at him. Like she cared. Her smile was as useless as Monty's comfort.

He stared.

She shrugged. "Bitterness isn't the most nourishing of substances to survive on."

"Oh yeah, and you know this how?"

His interest flickered, rising from the darkness inside him. She was a much more interesting mark than his regulars.

This might even prove to be fun. Maybe he would actually feel something for a change.

Luna crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall.

There was no judgment in her gaze, but no kindness either. She looked at him like he was a book she'd read a thousand times before and was beginning to grow tired of. "Experience. Everyone I've ever loved is dead, some at my own hand." She said it so simply. And he wondered how a person created that kind of distance from their own suffering. If he wasn't so annoyed, he might have asked her. Maybe it worked better than moonshine. "Pain survives on anger and bitterness, feeds off it. Until one day you're left with nothing. Not even yourself."

He wondered whether she practiced these speeches in the mirror. Do Grounders even have mirrors? Jasper tried to remember if he'd seen one on the oil rig, his only real exposure to Grounder culture.

Well, aside from a spear to the chest.

That was a riveting introduction.

"Yeah, well, it's looking like I'm gonna be fortunate enough to die before seeing that day so thanks for the pep talk or whatever but I'm fine."

Go away.

Please go away.

She didn't. Instead, her stare burned through him, the imploring nature of it plain to see. "You still have people you love and who love you. Don't waste that."

Jasper said nothing.

He wondered why she even cared, why she was bothering to try and appeal to whatever spark of life still existed inside him. The one he'd been doing his best to smother ever since he'd watched the life fade painfully out of the only girl he'd ever loved. The girl who had, impossibly, loved him in return.

He'd grown tired of people trying.

There was nothing they could do to fix this. Nothing.

Their efforts come too late.

Too late the moment Clarke and Bellamy had pulled that lever.

Perhaps even before then, when they'd decided to send one-hundred children to the ground, to their deaths. Like a sacrifice to the gods of a civilization long dead.

Where were the gods now?

Probably fucked off to some other planet centuries ago, as disgusted with their own creation as Jasper had grown to be.

Or maybe they'd gorged themselves on too many sacrifices and gotten heart disease. Ate themselves to death. Fuck knew the history of the world would have given them a feast.

Luna stepped closer, eyes softening. But Jasper could read the space behind them, knew it was an act. She was as empty as him. Or close to it. "You can still come back from this. You can still heal."

"I don't want to," Jasper snapped, finally losing his calm. That was something nobody seemed to get, refused to get. He was done with healing, done with trying. All that came after was more pain, more death. And then the healing started again. He was tired of the cycle. Tired of everything. Tired of being here. "So thanks but no thanks, I'm not here to buy what you're selling." He snorted as a thought occurred to him. "Especially since I don't think even you believe it."

He might have been flailing around in the dark with that one but the way Luna blinked, startled, told him that he'd managed to unintentionally hit something.

Huh.

Well, maybe this would be interesting.

"What? You think I don't see it? You're about as ready to give up as me. You're just too scared to let yourself. Yet." She was drawing away - that was good - but not doing it nearly fast enough for his liking. "So, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna get back to drinking the rest of my life away. Go take your peace-loving bullshit to someone you can actually fool."

He was sure Monty would appreciate it. He'd missed the grand tour of Luna's sanctuary.

Lucky bastard.

Her brand of peace seemed right up his alley. Or the old Monty's. He didn't know what this new Monty was into. This Monty who committed genocide and then just continued on like his life was still worth living.

Jasper waited.

Waited.

But she didn't leave.

What did it take to get this woman to give up?

Didn't she know a lost cause when she saw one?

He chuckled inwardly.

Of course, she did. She was one herself.

Slowly, without a sound, Luna lowered herself onto the chair beside him. Jasper resisted the urge to shrink away at the closeness.

She smelled of death.

Still looked a little like it too.

He wondered whether she wished she'd fallen victim to it like the rest of her clan. Whether she felt as abandoned by that mother fucker as he did.

How often could death pass over a person and still deign to leave them behind?

Jasper wasn't keen to find out. Maybe he should ask Clarke.

She was the Commander of Death, after all.

What a joke.

Luna was talking again. For a woman who no longer had anyone left to talk to, she sure as hell had a lot to say. "Why are you still here then - if you don't care? You could walk away and never come back. Easily. Walk away from your people. Or, even further." She shrugged, leaning back. "Walk away from life itself." She said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that Jasper was sure it was something she'd thought about herself, if not acted on.

He wondered if that would be a more promising wound to poke at.

Decided against it.

He had his limits, after all. Unlike Bellamy and Clarke.

"Maybe there are still people I care about here." There was truth in that, as much as he wished there wasn't. "Or maybe I just don't think they've earned the right to be free of me."

Still more truth in that.

Luna's gaze was too knowing. She looked at him like a child who'd just said something very amusing, and also very wrong. "You like making people uncomfortable. Judging them."

"Well, I mean I could have started a peace-loving cult to deal with my trauma instead but that didn't work out so well for the last person who tried it."

Luna flinched, imperceptibly.

The old Jasper would have felt guilty. This new poor impersonation of him - the shrivelled remains of the Jasper everyone once loved - barely felt a thing, nothing other than a small sliver of satisfaction as he filed the reaction away.

Another victory.

Hollow as all the rest.

He shrugged. "And if the world is ending, might as well get a front-row seat."

Luna was unmoved. "The world isn't ending. Humanity is."

What an interesting distinction.

Yeah, she was closer to that edge than she was willing to admit.

Jasper wondered whether it would be worth giving her a push.

Whether he even wanted to.

Maybe watching the fall would finally make him feel something.

Something other than this.

Jasper hesitated-

but let the opportunity pass.

He could always call on it again later.

"So why are you still here, then?"

Luna looked at him like the answer was obvious. For others, it might have been.

Not for them.

"I can help."

Wrong answer.

Jasper leant back in his seat, eying her lazily, knowingly. "Or you don't have anywhere else to go. And you're afraid that even if you did, they wouldn't let you leave."

Luna looked away.

Gotcha.

It didn't make him feel any better.

Nothing did.

But might as well go for home run.

"That girl. Adria?" She stiffened at the name and Jasper tried to forget the tear-stricken face of a little girl, hiding as all horror was unleashed around her. Even children weren't spared on the ground. "I saw you kill that guy for her. He clearly meant something to you. More than something." She went still but Jasper could see the sharp rise and fall of her chest, knew that beneath that calm a storm was brewing. For a moment, he felt bad. Regretted starting this, considered ending it. But the knife was in, and he couldn't resist twisting it. "And you killed him anyway. How did that work out for you? Kid's still dead. They all are. And you're alone. You're going to be alone forever. Cos now you get to watch everybody else die as well. But not you." That was the thing about Luna. For all her speeches, all her promises, she'd still sunk as low as the rest of them in the end. Gone back on her word never to kill again. Her great peaceful endeavour, over in an instant.

He resented her for that, for how easily she'd caved.

Though, it wasn't really that easy, was it?

He could remember the torture, the threats.

How she'd resisted. Seemed like she was going to resist forever, until they'd brought in the child.

Everyone had their price.

And hers was better than most, he could grant that.

But a part of him couldn't forgive her for giving him hope, only to reveal herself as being as smothered in darkness as the rest of them.

('none of us is innocent.')

Still, out of everyone here, Luna was probably the only person he didn't hate.

No, he pitied her.

As high as she'd been, as low as she'd sunk. . .

How could you not pity her?

And the universe had ordained to bring her here, right into the jaws of wolves. Did she even understand the prey she had become? How she had forfeited any freedom she once had the moment she'd stepped through those gates?

Didn't matter.

The jaws had snapped shut now.

They would never let her go.

Jasper liked to think that maybe she still had a chance to run, though. Right now, when they were least expecting it.

Maybe she could get away.

Maybe he was pushing her to.

It was the least he could do for bringing the wolves into her sanctuary. Serving her up on a silver platter to A.L.I.E.

"Or do you really think they're gonna find a cure with your blood? Save humanity?" She turned her gaze on him once more, finally. It burned. "How many months do we have left again to accomplish that? Or is it weeks? I try not to pay attention. I mean, they certainly believe it. Wonder what they'll do to try and make it happen." Her eyes flicked away and he could see her turning that over in her head, though the lack of surprise on her face told him it was something she'd already considered. Perhaps he'd underestimated her. Maybe she was well aware of the trap she was in. "You know, I feel sorry for you. Cos even if you chose to walk away from this hell, they wouldn't let you. Me?" He spread out his arms, leaning back in his chair with a lop-sided grin. The action hurt. Everything hurt. "I'm expendable. But you? Everybody needs you. You're trapped."

Her skin seemed a little whiter, but maybe that was just a trick of the light. Her glare was out in full force now, though.

Finally.

"But, you know, thanks for the chit-chat. Really feel like we learned something."

She didn't wait for him to say anything more. Nor did she choose to dignify that with a response. Like everyone else had eventually learned, words were useless when it came to him. Useless when it came to anything, really.

With one final look, she stood.

And left.

Jasper hoped she kept walking. All the way to the door, outside, past the people working themselves to death for a future they might not even get to be a part of, and out the gates.

He hoped she ran.

"Hey, Lu- woah!" Raven stepped back just in time to avoid being run over. Luna was going so fast, Raven doubted she'd even seen her there. She certainly didn't apologize for the near collision and a second later her back was disappearing around the corner.

Shit.

Raven stepped into the room, eyes landing on Jasper. "Please tell me you didn't just piss off our one shot at saving humanity."

Jasper smiled but there was nothing nice about it. "Wouldn't dream of it."

She didn't have time for this. If Jasper had said something then she needed to get her ass on the run after Luna so she could try and do damage control.

Raven turned to go-

"She's a person, too, you know."

Stopped in her tracks. "What?"

It could be hard following Jasper's train of thought at the best of times and right now was not the best of times.

And she didn't like the way he was looking at her. Like she was Clarke.

Well, maybe not Clarke.

Jasper's long-brewing resentment for their chosen one was unmatched and Raven doubted there was anything she could do to earn it.

"Luna," he said simply. And, okay, that should have been obvious. "She's a person. Just something you might want to keep in mind. I mean, I know how good you all are at seeing people as numbers. Dwindling them down to their barest uses."

That hurt. But it wasn't exactly untrue either.

Raven hadn't started out like that, had been the exact opposite of it, in fact.

But it was hard to hold onto sentiment at the end of the world. "We're not using Luna. She's helping us - helping everyone."

"Whether she wants to or not, right?"

Raven's eyes narrowed. "That's not true."

His expression told her that he didn't believe that for a second. She wondered whether she did. Had to look deep inside herself for the answer. Found she didn't know.

She'd stopped being able to predict what they were all capable of months ago and had long since given up trying.

"You should let her go."

Jesus Christ. Raven rolled her eyes. "You make it sound like we're forcing her to stay."

"Come on, Raven. You really think Clarke and the others are going to let her walk out of this place when she's Humanity's Last Hope?" he said the moniker like it was a joke, and not a very funny one.

Raven narrowed her eyes. "Luna's not a prisoner, Jasper." And maybe if she repeated that enough times, she'd actually believe it. She wanted it to be true. Needed it to be. "She's here because she wants to help. If she wants to leave, she can leave."

"Come on, Raven. You're not that naive. You wouldn't be keeping tabs on her if she was really as free to leave as you say."

Fuck him, because he was right.

Clarke had suggested that someone stick by Luna at all times, or at least keep an eye on her. Her reasoning being that the woman had been through a lot, she was in an unfamiliar (and probably daunting) new place and the Grounder-based hostility among Arkadia's residents was always close to boiling over.

All that was true.

Raven just didn't know whether any of it had been the driving motivation behind Clarke's decree.

She knew, for her own part, that she'd found herself getting antsy every time Luna wandered too close to the exit, or that one instance she'd hovered by the gates for a full three hours, staring out at the treeline.

Raven wondered what would have happened if she'd actually stepped out past those gates. Even further, made a run for it.

Found that she was comfortable with not knowing the answer.

Jasper leant towards her, more serious than she'd seen him in a long time. "Clarke and Bellamy killed the entire population of Mount Weather just to save a few of our people. What do you think they'd do to save all of them?"

Raven swallowed.

An almost imperceptible action but he didn't miss it, nodded, leaning back in his seat once more. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

Raven snapped. "I get it. You hate the world, you want to die. Fine. But you don't get to make that decision for the rest of us. And you sure as hell don't get to make it for Luna. So stop trying to fuck this up for everyone. Some of us still believe there are people worth saving."

Clearly, Jasper had been spoiling for this fight for a while now because he met her tit-for-tat. "And who gets to decide who those people are? You? Clarke? It's not about worth, Raven. It's about favoritism. And even if it was about worth, how do you measure that? What makes a person more worthy of life than another?"

Raven looked away.

Fuck if she knew. All the people who had been the most worthy of life in her eyes had died in front of her.

Sacrificed.

Their lives hadn't mattered all that much in the end.

"Either we're all worth saving or none of us are. But you don't care about that. None of you do."

She turned back, scowl fully in place, the only defense she had. "Just try and remember you're not the only one whose life has been a living, breathing horror story. You don't get the monopoly on personal suffering. So stop trying to spread it around." Raven softened slightly, remembering who exactly it was she was talking to. "Monty misses you. I miss you. Maybe that doesn't matter to you, but the least you could do is be kind. For Monty's sake."

"Monty helped commit genocide and murder the girl that I loved."

"Then punch him in the face like I did Clarke after she murdered the guy that I loved. Then move past it. You guys have been best friends for so long. You're family. I wish I had more time with Finn. But I never will. It's too late for that. But it's not too late for you. The world may be ending, but you still have time."

She dared to hope he'd listen to her, but knew the odds were far from in her favour.

Raven found she couldn't wait for his response, didn't want to hear it. So she turned to follow in the footsteps of the woman who had all but fled this man's presence.

Jasper's voice halted her.

"I'd watch my back around Luna, you know."

She turned around and he shrugged at seeing her confusion.

"Just saying. I've seen her kill."

So what?

"We've all killed people, Jasper. Luna is hardly an exception."

"And how many of us have actually been trained to do that? How many of us can kill a person without the help of a gun? Without even breaking a sweat?"

Raven wasn't moved. "She's a Grounder. It's kind of what they do."

No doubt what they would do, too. If they had the ability. If they'd been raised that way.

Instead, they had the technology to kill from a distance. Kill with ease.

Jasper sneered a little. "Trust me. She's not someone you want to make an enemy of."

"Well, that's good because I have no intention of making an enemy out of Luna." Quite the opposite, in fact. Dangerous or not, they needed Luna too much to piss her off. "Besides, how bad can she be? She founded a clan on the notion of peace. Doesn't exactly strike terror into the hearts of children."

By her estimation, Luna was one of the few people they didn't have to be scared of.

"A clan that was annihilated in a matter of months." He shrugged. "Maybe she's learnt the error of her ways."

Raven couldn't listen to any more of this. She strongly suspected that Jasper wasn't trying to warn her about anything, certainly wasn't trying to help. No, he was trying to stir shit up. Make her doubt the only plan they had to save the human race.

A race he'd made it very clear he didn't think deserved saving.

Well, she wasn't going to buy into it.

"Right now, I'm less worried about Luna than I am about you." Her tone was harsher than she'd intended it to be and she sighed, rubbing her brow. "Patch things up with Monty, Jasper. You don't have much but you still have him. Don't waste that."

A muscle in his jaw jumped out but he said nothing. That was good, Raven had run out of patience for listening.

Taking a breath, she turned and left.

Raven was keenly aware of just how much of a loose cannon Jasper had become and how, lately, he seemed intent on taking the rest of them down with him.

She couldn't allow that. After everything they'd done, everything they'd survived, she wasn't about to let a little radiation make it all for nothing. She wasn't going to let Jasper make it all for nothing, either.

Finn had died so that they could have a future.

And fuck if she wasn't going to do everything in her power to make sure they got one.

She was still grateful for what Jasper had done for her whilst she'd been chipped, and it wasn't something she was soon to forget. She also knew what it was like to watch someone you love be sacrificed for the greater good - if such a thing even existed.

A part of her wondered, though, if she got through it, why couldn't Jasper?

Maybe she was just more used to living with pain.

She'd only been doing it all her life.

Whatever the reason, Raven couldn't let him affect their chances of survival. And right now the majority of those chances rested on a certain nightblood. Whether Luna wanted them to or not.

It took her over twenty minutes to find Luna after her spat with Jasper. When Raven realized that she wasn't anywhere inside, her stomach dropped, fearing that Jasper had succeeded in his goal of scaring Luna off.

But she also knew that wasn't an option. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

No-one was letting Luna leave anytime soon.

Fuck.

In the end, Raven found her outside, not far from the entrance. She was seated on an empty cargo box, sheltered by an overhanging piece of scrap metal and watching the workings of the people around her.

Raven hesitated a moment before going over, hesitated even longer before taking a seat as well, careful to leave a good amount of distance between them. She was so not in the mood to be invading anyone's personal space right now.

Damage control. That was what she was here for.

Luna didn't acknowledge her presence.

"Hey, I'm, uh, sorry if Jasper was being an ass to you back there. He's uh. . . he's going through something."

They all were.

Luna shrugged. "He's in pain."

She wouldn't look at her and Raven hoped that wasn't a bad sign.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is." Again, they all were. There was too much fucking pain to go around and not enough of them to bear it. "But it's still not an excuse to be a jerk. Make others hurt, too."

This made Luna turn to her at last and she watched Raven thoughtfully for a moment. "No. It's not. But some people have so much pain the only way they know how to get rid of any at all is to spread it around. I've seen his kind before. He's Battle Weary."

Raven took a seat beside her. "He's given up. I mean, we're all here trying to find a way to survive and he's just-"

Luna cut her off. "It's a cruel world. He knows that now. Can you really blame him for not wanting to be a part of it?"

No, she couldn't but- "He just needs to fight a little longer, to-"

"Not everyone's built to survive. And everyone has their limits." Luna's voice was gentle, too gentle for the topic they were discussing.

Somehow that angered Raven, made her forget the goal of damage control.

"And what about you?" she snapped, challenging.

Luna didn't rise to the bait. "I'm. . ." She trailed off, smiling slightly to herself, though there was a bitter edge to it. "Not sure I know how not to survive." She glanced down at the still-healing radiation burns on her arms. The reminder made Raven's stomach turn as she thought of the bodies they'd cremated only two days ago. "Seems it's in my blood."

"Yeah," Raven breathed, deflating slightly as the defensive anger of before abandoned her. She felt guilty for its appearance, for directing it at Luna. "I can relate to that." At Luna's raised eyebrow, "Not the blood thing, obviously. But I'm not sure I know how not to survive, either." Raven smirked. "And I've made it this long, so why stop now?"

Luna inclined her head, though neglected to agree or disagree. "I never caught your name."

She startled at the very deliberate subject change. "Raven. I'm the-"

"Mechanic." Luna nodded in comprehension. "I've heard a few people mention you. I'm not sure I understand what it is exactly that you do but from what I've heard, you do it very well."

Raven snorted. "Kind of an understatement, but okay."

Luna's lips twitched. "I'm-"

"Luna. Yeah. Kind of infamous at this point. Hard to miss."

She smiled thinly but didn't comment. Instead, she glanced out at the bustling activity going on around them. "What are you building?"

"A shelter of sorts. To survive the radiation."

Luna hummed thoughtfully. "Will it work?"

"Yeah." Well, she was ninety-nine percent certain at any rate. And that one percent could kiss her ass. "But it's not going to be enough," she sighed.

"Why not?"

"It won't save everyone." That was information that was - wisely - privileged but she doubted Luna was going to tell anyone. Who did she have left to tell? Skaikru weren't her people and she had no need of the shelter herself, being the one person capable of surviving the coming hell. Besides, Raven needed to impress upon her the importance of her help. How dire the situation still was. What better way to do that than this?

Luna said nothing for a long time. "Who gets to decide who lives and who dies?"

She and Jasper were clearly on the same wavelength, unfortunately for Raven.

"Clarke." That's what she was good at. "But we're hoping it won't come to that."

"Because of me." Luna still kept her gaze out at the people.

"Yeah. Your blood is the miracle we all need."

Her mouth curved into a humorless smile, eyes lost on the hopeless crowd in front of them. "I wouldn't call it that."

"I would. Luna, your blood might save everyone. And not just my people. Your people, too."

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

Luna exhaled, rising to her feet. "My people are dead."

Raven frowned, watching her walk away, an uneasy feeling creeping into her gut. She'd kind of just assumed - they all had - that getting Luna's help on this was a done deal. Who wouldn't want to save humanity?

Maybe Luna was a little more like Jasper than they'd hoped.

That could prove to be a problem.

Fuck. Why wasn't anything ever easy?

"From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back."

― Franz Kafka

Chapter Text

Luna's eyes hadn't left the sea for the entire length of their boat ride. Not even when Murphy tripped and nearly went sailing over the edge - in Raven's defense, she hadn't actually meant to trip him, she lay the blame for that entirely on the universe, which seemed to hate Murphy almost as much as she did.

Still, Luna didn't take her eyes off the water.

Raven caught occasional murmurs from her lips, too low to make out clearly and, even if she had been speaking at an audible volume, Raven knew she wouldn't be able to make heads or tales of the Trigedasleng.

She'd never bothered to learn. Had never really been all that interested in anything to do with Grounder culture, or Grounders in general. She was beginning to regret that.

"What's she saying?" Raven asked Nyko, after her curiosity had gotten the better of her. He'd been Luna's shadow ever since they'd shown up at Arkadia's gates and, like Raven, had been watching her closely for the length of the boat trip, though he'd granted her some distance early on, which Luna seemed appreciative of. To be fair to Nyko, everyone had been watching Luna closely - he was just the only one doing so without any hint of suspicion or urgency.

Raven had noticed that some of the others looked at Luna like a piece of meat, or the prophesied holy grail - which was, at best, uncomfortable and, at worst, dehumanizing.

She knew Luna had noticed, had seen her shift beneath the stares, something like irritation in her eyes that bordered on reproach. Raven pretended she didn't see the building desperation there, like an animal that was aware they'd been trapped and that their chances of dashing to freedom were growing smaller and smaller by the second; soon they'd be withered down to nothing.

The point was: there was none of that in Nyko's eyes.

Only concern.

He might just be the only one on this damn boat who remembered Luna was an actual person - and one who'd just lost everything to boot.

Even Raven couldn't attest to that.

Her prayers were riding on Luna just as surely as everyone else's.

But she hadn't forgotten Adria, either. Or the others.

No matter how much she'd have liked to.

"It's a prayer for the dead," Nyko said, keeping his voice low. His gaze didn't leave Luna, though she had determinedly turned away from them, refusing to acknowledge the boat's other passengers. She looked almost ready to jump into the sea and make a swim for it.

Raven wouldn't blame her, but her body was poised to spring forward nonetheless. To stop her.

"Something native to Floukru, I think," he continued. "I haven't heard it pass the lips of any other clan. But I've heard it far too often in this last week."

Raven remembered grimly that Nyko had been present for much of Floukru's demise, whilst she had just played audience to the final act.

She could also recall the body bags back at Arkadia, the ones they'd set on fire. Nyko's suggestion, though Luna had possessed final say.

There'd been no large body of water to send them off into but cremation was a tradition for many Grounder clans, apparently, and everyone from Floukru had belonged to at least one of them at some point. A compromise.

Given this, the sea seemed almost to be mocking them with its presence now. If they'd come here sooner, those bodies might have been able to have had a proper send-off, one they'd earned.

But that hadn't been feasible. They'd needed to wait for Luna to heal before making the journey, and they'd also needed to prepare better, make sure things wouldn't fall apart back at Arkadia if they left it for a short time (ever a possibility).

They had to focus on the living, not the dead.

Like always.

"How many died?" Raven asked, before she could think better of it. He'd said they'd lost over forty on the way, but more could easily have died earlier, before Nyko had even entered the picture. From her research, she knew that radiation sickness generally proved fatal within three days, but that could vary and tended to only happen if a person had been exposed to 3,000 rads. Raven suspected the dose from the irradiated fish would have been lower, in which case the sickness could have progressed over weeks - for some it took months, but they knew Luna and her clan had still been healthy when they visited the oil rig so. . . no longer than two and a half weeks. The fact that there tended to be a latent stage where symptoms disappeared for a time and a person got 'better' probably would have cloaked them all in a false sense of security, too. By the time the symptoms returned and worsened, it would have been too late to do anything.

It was a miracle any of them had managed to make the journey to Arkadia at all in such a state.

At what point had they decided that this wasn't just your regular case of food poisoning or the flu and that they were in dire need of outside help? At what point had Nyko realized that he couldn't be the one to provide that help? Before or after people had started dying?

How big had Luna's clan been? It was only newly formed, after all, surely that meant its size had to be small. Maybe four dozen? Less?

But Nyko's expression was grim. "Too many. I never thought I'd live to see almost an entire clan wiped from existence. Now it looks like I might live to see the end of all of them, if this doesn't work."

"Which it will," Raven huffed. She'd had enough of the doubt and naysaying from Jasper.

It had to work. There wasn't any other option.

He smiled at her. "Yes. It will."

Well, at least that was one vote of confidence - and she liked Nyko better than most so that made it a good vote. Plus, they were going to need him for Luna Handling. It had become glaringly obvious within a matter of days that Luna didn't trust a single one of them and there was no way that wouldn't prove problematic in the future. She liked Luna well enough and, even if she didn't, the idea of forcing her to do anything would be, well, horrifying but she also knew that the future of mankind was more important than one woman.

Still, if push came to shove, she wasn't sure she could bring herself to make Luna do anything. That smacked a little too much of Mount Weather and Raven bore too much of the pain of her time there to stomach replicating their crimes.

There had to be a line, somewhere, that they couldn't cross. Didn't there?

She just prayed it would become visible to her before she stepped over it.

Sucking in a breath, Raven banished those thoughts from her head.

No, it was a good thing Nyko was here. As long as he was, Luna seemed willing to hang around.

She clearly thought well of him. Perhaps even considered him a friend.

"Have you known her long?" Raven asked, hoping he might be able to give her more insight into Luna's character. The more she knew, the better prepared she'd be for whatever came next.

(she tried very hard not to think about the fact that, the more she knew about Luna and how she worked, the easier she'd be to manipulate)

"Sometimes I was called upon by Heda to act as a healer in Polis. My patients were most often the young novitiates there. Luna was one of them."

Raven's eyebrows flew up. "Huh. So you've known her since she was a kid?"

"Yes. But that does not mean I know her well. All the people who knew her best are dead now. And she has changed a lot since then regardless. We've only ever crossed paths rarely in the aftermath of her fleeing the Conclave. She knew she could come to me for aid, but she would not endanger me further to ask for more than that."

So that explained why Luna sought out Nyko, of all the healers available, when her clan had gotten sick. That conveyed a certain level of trust, considering she'd probably returned to being a fugitive after Lexa died. Raven wouldn't pretend to understand the whole Grounder politics of it all but she'd pieced together enough from Clarke and Octavia to figure out that what Luna had done - fleeing her Conclave, whatever the hell that was - hadn't exactly been 'legal' in her world. Clarke had said that Lexa protected her but Lexa was dead now so Raven could only assume that such protection had been rendered null and void.

Not that anyone had time right now to bother with a fugitive nightblood when the End of Days was literally right on their doorstep. Add to that, the near civil war breaking out over leadership in Polis and Luna was probably the last thing on anyone's mind.

Except theirs.

But that wasn't exactly true, either.

It wasn't Luna on their minds but her blood. The salvation it offered them.

Raven was broken from that current of thought, though, when she saw Luna reach into her pocket and pull out a parcel of fabric. Slowly, she unwrapped it, revealing the pile of hair within.

Raven swallowed. She'd seen Luna carefully attend to each person before their funeral. How she'd slowly, meticulously crafted a braid into each of her fallen people's hair before cutting it away. A keepsake, Raven had to guess, and a rather morbid one at that.

She'd lingered on the child's hair the longest. Had woven and rewoven that one braid what had to be at least twenty times, trying to get it perfect, to do the girl justice, before finally relenting and permanently separating it from her body.

Raven had felt guilty for watching. Like an intruder, invading a moment that wasn't meant for her.

And, well, she had been. 

Just like she was now.

Nyko noticed her interest. "It's a custom carried out by many clans, including mine."

Pretty morbid custom.

"Was Luna Trikru, too?"

Most of the people they encountered seemed to be. That or Azgeda.

And, well, Luna had to have belonged somewhere before she'd formed Floukru. That could benefit them. Even though her clan was gone, if she still had a trace of loyalty to another one somewhere. . . well, that might motivate her enough to want to help them.

Not that she had decided not to help them.

But Raven was far from oblivious to how reluctantly that help came.

Nyko trampled her hopes. "No. Her father was, but Luna was born in Polis. She had no clan before Floukru."

Raven grimaced.

The woman really had lost everything.

She refocused on Luna once more as she leant over the edge of the boat. Shit, was she about to-

Raven tensed.

But nothing happened and beside her, Nyko remained unmoved.

In the next moment, Luna retrieved one of the braids, tossing it into the waves.

Oh.

She repeated this process four more times, growing slower and more reluctant with each throw.

When she got to the last braid, she stilled. Fingers hovering over the soft yellow hair, Luna hesitated. Raven tried not to see the tremble in those fingers, how pronounced it must have been if she could notice it from this distance.

A minute passed.

Ultimately, Luna folded the fabric back over, concealing the braid from view and pocketing it once more.

Raven knew exactly who that braid had belonged to, felt the beginnings of nausea rise up in her stomach.

Kids shouldn't die.

They just. . . they shouldn't.

And sure as fuck not in such a slow, agonizing way.

Which was why they had to stop this. Before every child everywhere suffered the same fate.

Raven was glad she'd never been religious. She wouldn't have been able to make peace with her god after witnessing all the things she had, seeing the utter dispassion with which the universe watched all its cruelties come to pass.

"Luna has always had a complicated relationship with her blood."

Raven snorted. "Yeah, I picked up on that."

"Convincing her to see it as the miracle we do will be difficult. It has only ever brought heartache into her life."

And now here they were reducing her to little more than that blood.

Great.

Raven sighed.

Give her the old days when all she had to worry about was getting a pressure regulator.

"There is no reason for her to believe that this time will be any different." Nyko drew closer to her, lowering his voice. "You need to be gentle with her right now. She's fragile."

Raven could think of a lot of words to describe Luna and fragile wasn't one of them. "I think you might be underestimating her there, pal. I'm not going to pretend that I know her or anything about her but she strikes me as someone who can take a lot."

Jasper had told her enough about what happened on the oil rig with A.L.I.E. to feel confident of that assumption. And what little interaction she'd had with the nightblood had left an impression that Luna was anything but fragile.

Nyko remained grave, though. But maybe that was his default expression. "For us, the world is about to end. For her, it's already ended."

Well, that was. . . grim. And kind of heartbreaking. But Raven couldn't afford to pity Luna right now. Other things mattered more.

It seemed that other things always mattered more.

"I've seen her like this only once before," he continued when Raven said nothing, intelligent enough not to mistake her silence for assent. "Trust me when I say to take care. She's lost much. What she needs now is kindness. Give her that, and she will return it."

That wasn't exactly bad advice. It probably held true for most people, not just Luna. And Raven wanted to be kind, she really did. She just didn't know whether she could afford to be.

God, this sucked ass.

Nyko must have seen the internal conflict playing across her face because his gaze turned stern. "If you want her help, you will give her this."

Well, hell. "Nyko, I don't have any plans not to be kind. But if you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the one in charge of this whole operation. You'd be better off saying all this to Abby."

He nodded. "Probably. But you're the only one who has asked me about Luna. So you are the one I am telling."

Raven decided that it was probably best not to say that her curiosity when it came to Luna was entirely self-serving, born out of seeing the nightblood as a potential problem - and her brain was helpless to resist those. She was trying to get as much information as she could, factor in all the variables in the hopes of coming to a viable solution that would work for all of them, including Luna.

She was analyzing.

But if Nyko was choosing to think that her interest was born out of genuine care then it probably wasn't in their best interests to correct him.

Even if it made her feel like pure shit.

He smiled, squeezed her arm briefly before turning and heading in the direction of his fellow Grounder. Enough space had been granted for now, apparently.

Luna's gaze broke from the sea briefly at his approach, glance skating over the direction he'd come from and landing on Raven with something like suspicion, before returning to the water once more. He whispered something low in her ear and laid a hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head, muttered something back and Raven was just close enough to pick up the aggravation in her tone.

She wasn't egotistical enough to believe they were talking about her but she couldn't say her thoughts didn't stray there enough to make her feel uncomfortable. Raven turned away, content to leave Nyko to Luna Sitting for now. She had a feeling he could do a much better job of it than her.

Chapter Text

"Acts of Kindness: A random act of kindness, no matter how small, can make a tremendous impact on someone else's life."

― Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

"Don't jump," Nyko muttered in her ear. "These Sky People will race in after you and I do not fancy having to save them from drowning." His mouth twitched so she knew he was teasing her.

Luna rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to jump."

"Yes, but they don't know that. And these clothes become very heavy when wet."

She made a noise of agreement, familiar with that ordeal, and turned to survey the other occupants of the boat.

Her eyes fell on the woman who seemed closest to her in age. The little bird.

Nyko followed her gaze. "That one has a good heart."

Luna turned back to the sea. "You can tell that from one conversation?"

Her own conversation with Raven had not yielded such results, though she could admit that she hadn't been in the best frame of mind to notice their existence.

She had gone after Luna when she was upset. But she strongly suspected that action was entirely self-serving. Raven had been trying to alleviate the damage one of her own people had caused and, thus, prevent her from leaving.

She hadn't said that, of course, but Luna could tell.

She could always tell.

Raven didn't care about her, she cared about her blood. Same as everyone else.

But Nyko disagreed.

"I can tell that from her eyes. They've much to say." He settled closer to Luna, the touch of his shoulder against hers a comfort.

She wasn't convinced. "You've always seen the good in people."

Even when it isn't there.

He grunted. "So have you."

Not always.

Luna looked down, running a finger over the rail.

"I'm sorry about Artigas. And Lincoln," she murmured after the two of them had settled into silence.

It had taken her too long to say this to him. For over a week, they had been in each other's company but she hadn't been able to broach the subject of more death, more loss.

That was a disservice to Nyko, though, to all he had given her.

She owed him her condolences - for as little worth as they possessed - if nothing else.

Nyko's expression fell slightly, but a smile strained his face a moment later. "I will see them again."

The water in his eyes called to Luna and she blinked, fighting back her own torrent. She had cried every day for over a week. She did not want to cry anymore.

It only left her tired.

And defeated.

Wrung out of everything - good, bad.

Everything.

Likely, she would have much more to cry over in the weeks to come.

But today she would keep herself dry.

Today, she would be okay.

The little bird had ended her vigil, retreating to the other end of the boat, but Luna could still feel the eyes of others on her. She kept them at her back, refusing to turn and face them.

"Do you think I did the right thing with Lincoln?" she asked the question that had haunted her for years, grown sharper and more venomous with his recent passing.

Nyko heaved a long sigh and leaned forward against the railing, his hands clasping together pensively. "I think you did the kindest thing you could. Whether it was right or wrong, I cannot say."

The answer brought her only the barest salve of comfort. She looked out at the sea as if it could provide better. "I suppose it doesn't matter now. He's dead. I didn't want to cause him pain but now..."

Another deep sigh. "I know."

Luna's rational mind urged her to drop the subject but her heart resisted. Her dreams last night still clung to her, the impossible visions she'd seen leaving an ache inside her chest that refused to abate. "Sometimes I think about what could have been, if-"

She stopped, could not complete the sentence, bring the temptation of that unattainable reality into existence.

But Nyko understood. He was the only one alive who still could. "I know."

A bird with four wings flew in the distance; she watched its retreating form with longing. "But we make our choices. And we live with the consequences."

He made a noise of agreement, but- "Your choices have been heavier than most."

Maybe. But that did not exempt her from their consequences.

Luna frowned.

The bird had all but disappeared from view, just a faint dot growing smaller by the moment.

She wondered what it was like to be trapped by nothing, not even the pull of the ground.

Wings were a gift not granted to her people.

"Do you know how he died?" The question had followed her for weeks, ever since she'd learned of his demise. She knew only that the Sky People had been involved but no more than that.

Lincoln.

She had not thought their last moments together were a goodbye.

Nyko's gaze was heavy. "You don't want to hear of it, Luna. It will bring you nothing but more pain."

She frowned and he squeezed her arm. "Remember him in life. Not in death."

But Luna sighed and turned away, back towards the sea. The only love that hadn't left her. "All I have is death to remember." She closed her eyes. "They're all gone, Nyko. All of them."

He nodded, leaning against the rail and gazing at the sea. "Yes. They are. But their memories are not. Their memories will always be here. That is a gift that will never leave you."

Her face screwed up and she kept her eyes clenched tightly shut, fighting against the sting. "It doesn't feel like a gift."

It never had.

His hand landed on top of hers. Heavy, steadying. "One day it will."

Luna turned away.

She couldn't imagine that being true. The weight of fifty-seven souls resting on her shoulders could never be a gift. The memory of Adria's fingers tracing the indentations of her face so she could better preserve her features - 'I don't want to ever forget you, not like I forgot them' - tangled with the gasping, choked breaths of her final moments as she became limp and still in Luna's arms forever. Derrick holding her against his chest as she fought to steady her breathing in the wake of another nightmare, his hands smoothing back her hair as he murmured the reassuring syllables of her mantra, overshadowed by the resistance of flesh, the crack of bone as she drove the knife into his chest, watched the light fade out of his eyes and wept.

Those were not gifts.

They were hauntings.

"Luna?"

She turned to him in question.

"Do you remember what I told you all those years ago?"

She remembered little of their time together then, the spot a murky haze of darkness in her memory. But this, she did remember. "Nightmares end."

He nodded. "And so will this one."

Perhaps it would. But not in the way Nyko hoped.

Luna couldn't cling to such a promised ending, not like him. Not when she could barely even imagine such a thing.

She could only hope for the least amount of suffering. A little light before the eternal darkness, even. But the salvation he pictured was beyond her comprehension.

She could feel the eyes of the little bird on her again. The mechanic. This was no anomaly. The eyes of everyone were on her, always on her.

It was like being a child again, plagued by the observations of her mentors and attendants. Her blood liked to make her a precious commodity. Luna thought she'd escaped that at thirteen but this year had proved that any an escape was beyond her abilities, beyond the mercy of the universe.

First A.L.I.E.

Now this.

She'd had peace. For a while.

Her mistake had been in believing it could last.

Nothing good ever did.

Luna sighed, leaning over the edge of the boat slightly, her pocket heavy with the memory of what she had recently discarded overboard. It was a loathsome sendoff for those who had been so close to her heart but better than what the ones they'd lost on the journey had received.

She hoped their spirits - if they existed - could forgive her for her failure to give them a proper burial, to return them to the water.

Hoped even more that they could forgive her for failing to save their lives. To keep them safe, something she had promised all those who sought refuge in Floukru.

Death had entered the doors of her sanctuary the day she opened them to the Sky People and it had not left with their departure. Instead, it had only grown hungrier, devouring all remaining light in the weeks to follow. Now, all that remained was darkness.

Luna had seen many die in her short life but never an entire clan. Never so many in one fell swoop.

And whatever the Sky People achieved with her blood, it could not reverse that devastating act. Nothing could.

Her people were gone.

But she was not.

Perhaps this was retribution for fleeing her Conclave. For thinking that she had that right.

All her childhood, she'd been told horror stories of the things that happened to novitiates who rejected their calling, who turned their back on the Flame. Such a thing had not happened for generations but it was still something feared by the Fleimkepas. So they told stories of the vengeful spirits of the Commanders, enacting punishments on all those who abandoned their duty, their purpose in life.

That Luna's people had been the first victims of Praimfaya, that she was once again made survivor in a sea of death, her blood forcing her onto a path she had no desire to walk. . .

It was hard to think of that as mere coincidence.

Costia would say that she thought too much of her own importance, to think that the spirits or universe would slaughter so many just to punish her. But in Luna's experience, fate was a cruel force, that had no care for casualties in its quest to achieve what it desired most. It could be vindictive, and petty.

Importance - or lack thereof - had very little to do with it. And even so, she'd been taught from a young age just how important she was. More important than she could ever want to be.

There was a whip of wind, harsh tendrils smacking Luna's face, followed by a light spray from the sea. The touch of ice against her skin and the smell of salt calmed her a little and she leant over the edge more.

In the corner of her vision, she saw the little bird stiffen but she had no need to worry. Luna's stomach revolted at the idea of jumping into the waves below. Beside Luna, Nyko showed no noticeable change - he knew her tells too well.

And he trusted her.

He knew she would not leave him here. Outside of her love for him, she still owed him a debt. If following the demands of the Sky People, relinquishing her cursed blood to them for the sake of a cure she did not believe in was what he wanted, then she would give him that.

And. . . she had no desire to be alone at the end of the world. If there was a chance, the slimmest possibility, that the Sky People could succeed and save his life. . .

He was all she had left.

They weren't close. She had only seen him in scattered moments throughout her life. But he was familiar and he cared for her.

The only person left alive who did.

Cure or no cure, she didn't want to lose him until she absolutely had to.

Though, a part of Luna cringed away from the thought of watching him die in agony, just like all the rest. That part urged her to run, to escape the horrific inevitability whilst she still could.

But she did not want to be alone.

Luna had entered the world, clutching the foot of her brother. For thirteen long years, she had not known the meaning of loneliness, let alone endured it. Her spirit had been entwined with his from birth - until the day she chose to violently sever it.

That was the first time she'd ever tasted loneliness. A dark hole had opened up inside her and she had fallen into it with barely a protest. She could feel herself tracing the edges of that hole now, the darkness drawing all surrounding light into its depths.

She did not want to fall into it again.

So she stayed.

And prayed Nyko was right.

"A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal."

― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

Past

Nyko could confidently say that the very last thing he expected to find when he returned to his tent that night was a soaking wet child, nearly unrecognizable through the thick layer of mud and black ooze that covered her from head to toe.

Quickly, Nyko closed the flap of his tent, hoping that no-one had chanced a glimpse within.

The Conclave had been held near his village, though the 'arena' had expanded for miles. Almost all of Trikru had shown up to witness the rise of their new Commander, as well as members of other clans - shockingly, no fights had broken out over the last nine days between the rivalling factions.

It was the most peaceful he'd seen them in years.

A direct contrast to the bloody battles waging alongside them, the small bodies whose deaths he'd had to confirm in the aftermath.

One body had been missing.

And tongues had been wagging ever since, the scandal of it all rising to fame faster than the name of the new Commander.

Titus was on a warpath and had sent various scouts out to find the traitor and return her for judgment.

The first order of the new commander had been to call off those scouts and whilst in public Titus had acquiesced Nyko had caught sight of two of them moving through the area just an hour ago.

The child had been lucky to make it this far without detection.

Now what to do with her?

"Luna?"

Curled into a ball at the far corner of his tent, she jerked at the sound of his voice, retreating.

This would take time.

With one last glance at the closed flap of his tent, Nyko approached.

Slowly.

But not too quietly. He wanted her to hear him, to prepare herself as he drew closer. The child hunched in on herself, hiding her face.

She was a mess.

And even from this distance, he could make out more than a few injuries, though it was impossible to tell whether any of that dark blood was her own.

She was mumbling to herself, too fast for him to catch, jumbled and chaotic. She seemed almost unaware of his presence, lost to the present, but he knew there must still be some rationality existing in her mind, even if it lurked below the surface.

Of all the tents, she had chosen his.

He could not think that a coincidence.

He'd carefully examined each novitiate inside this very tent the day before the first round, determining that they were physically well enough to fight.

To die.

Luna had been silent throughout her entire examination, a resignation to her features as she stared at the wall of his tent.

It was a similar resignation that he witnessed in all the children before he declared them fit and ready.

And beneath that heavy weight of defeat, a fear.

Almost all of them would not live to see his face again. And they knew it.

Nyko had once seen such a look upon his brother, and the expression had haunted him through the years.

He had a feeling this sight before him now would haunt him for many more.

"Have you come for a visit, little moon?"

No answer. She continued to mutter to herself, shaking her head.

Nyko sighed. This was not the usual hurt that he was used to healing.

But he would try.

There was some hope, at least.

Luna must have remembered the directions to his tent, found her way here, somehow, despite the obvious shock and confusion she was in.

"You are looking very cold," Nyko noted casually, reaching for the blanket on his bed and closing the last of the distance between them.

There was no response and carefully, slowly he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She flinched but did not attempt to dislodge it.

What she really needed was a bath and some attention to those wounds that he was now more clearly beginning to make out. Food. Water.

But he would start with the blanket.

He would start with chasing away the cold.

Her hair was a frenzied, knotted mess, hanging in damp locks, covering her face. Some of it was caked dry with blood and every so often a dark drop would fall and land on the floor, beginning the formation of a black stain.

"Are you thirsty?"

Nyko knew this time not to wait for an answer, removing his waterskin and holding it out to her.

She jerked back, eyes wide.

There was no comprehension there.

He wondered whether she even knew where she was.

Heart heavy, he took a sip of the water himself, slowly, watching as her eyes tracked his movements. Done, he held it out to her once more.

Hesitantly she took it in her shaking hands. But did not drink.

"It's alright. You can rest now. You may drink."

Her hands clenched around the waterskin before she raised it hastily to her lips. It was a frenzied, rushed affair. Much of the water gushed down her chin but she raced to swallow as much as she could, thirsting for more even after the entire thing had been emptied.

He wondered how many days it had been since she'd last touched water to her lips.

Nyko reached for her hand, relieved when she let him take it after no more than a brief jerk back. He pinched the skin there, watching with a frown as it refused to settle back down for some time.

Yes, she was in need of fluids. More than he had available right now. He would have to get Lincoln or Artigas to fetch some water from the river. He could not alert any of the adults to his new house guest but Artigas was quick to obey without question and he trusted Lincoln not to breathe a word to anyone.

But that would have to come later.

He could not leave her alone just yet.

That, right now, was the only thing that was obvious to him. The only course of action that could not be ignored.

Nyko listened closer to her mumbles, hoping he would be able to make something out.

But it remained gibberish.

"IkilldmIkilldm."

He sighed and glanced about his tent for anything that might aid him.

It was then that she raised her face once more from her knees, taking him into her gaze. It took a minute or two for her to focus on him and longer still to decide what to do with his presence.

"Is. . . Is it over?"

Nyko inhaled, needing no explanation to know what it was she referred to. There was only one thing that could fill her mind so at this time.

"Yes, child, it is over."

The words felt like ash on his tongue. The Conclave was indeed over.

But not for her.

Not for one who had fled it. Who hadn't left it one of the only two ways a novitiate should. Victory or death.

She had rejected both paths.

And, in a way, had thrust this Conclave into a sort of immortality. It could not end, not fully, when there was more than one survivor.

It would follow her for the rest of her life. If she lived long enough to have one.

Luna's face screwed up but she did not cry. There were dried tear tracks on her cheeks, though, cutting a path through the caked blood.

She had cried all her tears before now.

He could not comfort her through them.

"Why did you help me all those years ago?" Luna asked, having given up on searching the sky for more hopeful outlines.

It could have cost Nyko his life, and the lives of his family.

Beyond that, his duty had not been to her but to his people - and the Flame that reigned over them.

His aid that day had never made sense to her, no matter how grateful she was for it.

But Nyko's answer was easy, as if she had asked the most simplest of questions in the world. "Because I am a healer. And you needed healing."

Luna was not satisfied. "My wounds were superficial."

He leveled her with a look. "Those are not the wounds to which I was referring." She dropped her gaze and he sighed, continued. "And because I could not help my brother."

Luna frowned. "He survived his Conclave."

"You know as well as I do that there is little salvation in that."

That was true enough but. . .

"He would have been ashamed of you helping me," she pointed out.

He had been a proud and ruthless commander, his duty forever overruling his heart.

She knew that only too intimately.

He'd died long before her Conclave, when she was still just a young child, but she could remember him well. Her own blossoming ruthlessness had made him fond of her and he had seen to her training personally. But if he had felt a connection to her beyond that, it never showed.

The only person she had ever seen produce some ounce of affection in him was Costia.

But, then, she had that gift.

"Yes." Nyko nodded, not denying it. "But I would have been ashamed if I did not help you."

Personal conscience in the face of society's expectations, rebelling against the established order of right and wrong that you'd heeded all your life. . .

That was something Luna could understand well.

If it was what had driven Nyko to help her, then yes.

It was simple.

Seeing that understanding on her face, he shifted. "Now I must ask you a question. Why did you choose my tent that day?"

Luna hesitated. She did not entirely remember, herself. Could hardly recall anything of that time. So she could only guess at the reason.

All she knew was that she had to get away. Not necessarily from the Fleimkepas but from the scene of what she had done, from what remained of the being who had once been her brother.

But beneath that urge had been a plea. A desperation.

For comfort.

Her usual sources were no longer available. She could not go to Costia or Lexa.

She could not go to her brother.

Luna could only guess that, in her confusion, something of the memory of Nyko's persistent, unwavering kindness had called to her.

Promised safety.

But she could only guess.

"Because you were always kind to me."

Nyko smiled, his eyes creasing as he reached out and squeezed her hand. "Well, I am glad you came."

Luna's mouth curved slightly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a dancing spot, shadowing the horizon. The four-winged bird had returned.

"Be the reason someone smiles. Be the reason someone feels loved and believes in the goodness in people."

― Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

Chapter Text

Years ago, she offered the man beside her a place in Floukru, hoping but not daring to believe that he would take it.

He didn't.

Luna knew that Nyko hated war as much as she did. But he could not abandon his people.

Would not.

He was a healer. And so he would heal.

That was how he found his peace. In amongst the blood and the death. Fixing the few broken parts of the world he could.

Luna was no healer.

She was born to take life, not preserve it.

But she could also give it. She had that power. She'd-

But was that a blessing or a curse?

Was giving life any better than taking it away? Creating a life to suffer in the darkness, to endure it.

Life was a miracle.

But the giving of it?

A curse. How could it not be?

So she could curse a soul with life or with death.

That was her power.

That was the legacy of her blood.

Luna swallowed, leaning over the edge of the boat once again. The waves crashed under her and she welcomed their familiar music and the occasional spray against her face.

If she could replace the black in her veins with the clear water below, she would do so in a heartbeat.

Perhaps that would finally grant her the freedom of peace.

Something caught her attention in the distance and she sighed, watching the sharpening appearance of land with growing resignation.

But there was one last thing they needed to talk about before it finally reached them. She had resisted the subject for days, heart too heavy to reopen another wound.

But she could not delay any longer.

"Nyko," Luna started, eyes drawn to the approaching island. The boat ride had at once been too short, and too long. She hadn't wanted it to end, yet she'd been itching to escape the rusty contraption the second she'd stepped onto it, her skin growing tight and claustrophobic. She knew without a doubt that she was trapped, that the boy, Jasper, had spoken the truth, even as he'd armed it in vitriol.

The last two times Luna had been trapped, she'd been forced to kill someone she loved.

She prayed Skaikru were more merciful than the Fleimkepas or A.L.I.E.

Nyko inclined his head in acknowledgment, expression open and receptive to whatever she had to say.

He had always been a good listener.

Always been kind.

And moral.

She was counting on that now.

Having surpassed her tolerance for watchful eyes, Luna turned and made her way towards the cabin. Nyko followed.

At least in here, she could be granted some privacy. Possibly the last she would ever have, depending on what was in store for her on the island. She’d been granted almost no time alone in Arkadia and doubted her time here would be any different. 

Nyko, at least, created a comforting buffer. A taste of home. It wasn’t true isolation that Luna sought, simply an escape from circling vultures who reminded her far too much of days long gone. Nyko formed a barrier against that.

She left the door open, knowing that the feeling of claustrophobia would only increase if she shut herself in a room with no exit and little airflow.

Leaning closer, she lowered her voice for fear of prying ears - Luna didn't know how many, if any, of the Sky People could understand Trigedasleng - though, she'd waited for the others to drift far enough away to be safe before beginning this conversation. She'd had to wait longer than she'd have liked. The Sky People clung to her like the tower attendants in Polis when she was a child, following their charges around everywhere they went. Acting as a guard but also a jailer - monitors who could report back their every action and word to the head Fleimkepa.

Luna felt her anxiety rise at the memory.

All she'd done to escape that prison, all the bridges she'd burnt and the new ones she'd built, only to find herself trapped in a cage just as controlling.

The Fleimkepas and Skaikru were born of completely different worlds, but their motivations were the same:

Ensure the continued survival of their people.

At the end of the day, Luna would never be more than her blood to either of them.

She had to make sure it was her blood they focused their sights on, though.

"Right now, these people believe that I'm the only nightblood left in existence. I want your word that it will stay that way."

Realization dawned on Nyko's face before it settled into disappointment. "You don't trust them."

Luna cocked her head to the side, challenging. "The last time I trusted Skaikru and let them into my home, I almost lost everything. And what I did lose. . ." Her hand clenched at her side, remembering the knife that had once been within its grasp. The way it had felt to drive it into flesh once again. To stare into the vacant eyes of someone she loved as all life fled them at her command. Luna swallowed, retreating from the memory. "And now you expect me to trust them with something even more precious than that?"

He sighed, but there was a sad understanding in his eyes. "You have my word. As I promised you all those years ago, I will protect your secret until my last breath."

His words softened her and she relaxed slightly. Recent events had made her edgy, distrustful but Nyko had never given her a reason not to rely on him.

Luna regretted the earlier chill in her tone, the implication that she doubted him.

Perhaps she had. But only because right now she was finding it hard to believe in anyone.

Including herself.

"Thankyou." Luna reached out, squeezing his arm. "For everything you've done for me."

She would never forget it.

Nyko's eyes held regret, though. "I'm sorry I didn't have the power to do more. I'm sorry about your clan, Luna." Her gaze drifted down, nails digging into the chipped wood of the boat's handrail. "Will you go to her, after all this is over?"

She glanced out through a small window at the sea. Despite being surrounded by it at this very moment, she had never felt more distant from its peace.

"No," Luna said firmly. This was one of the few things she possessed no conflict over. "I still stand by the decision I made all those years ago. Recent events only make that more certain. She's safer where she is. Away from me." Just as her clan would have been. Her blood had lured A.L.I.E. to their door. And her promise of peace had made them the only casualties so far of this so-called Praimfaya. All because she'd isolated them out at sea, forcing them to subsist on what they could pull from its depths.

In her efforts to help, she had only harmed.

She wouldn't soon forget that.

Nyko's hand came up to clasp the one she still rested on his arm and Luna's composure cracked slightly. He'd been the only one to offer such gentleness since the last of her clan had perished, since she'd revealed herself as the 'miracle' so desperately needed.

There was nothing miraculous about her survival, though.

There never had been.

Luna sighed, shoulders falling with the weight of it all. "And even if I did feel otherwise, I wouldn't know where to look."

Nyko squeezed her hand, drawing her eyes back to him and the small smile on his face that was so out of place. "That I can help you with."

Luna narrowed her eyes, body tensing. "I didn't know you were privy to that information. Costia said-"

"Costia agreed with you and thought it best that the less people who knew, the better. So no, I don't know her location. But I know of people who do possess that information." He smiled. "After all this is over, I will take you to them. And we'll look for her together." She opened her mouth but he was already prepared for the coming protest, "If you change your mind." The look in his eyes told her he had every confidence that she would and a part of her rebelled at that, even as a greater gratitude seeped into her heart.

"I won't."

"Your mouth says one thing but your eyes say another. It speaks the truth of your heart." His other hand came up to grasp her shoulder. "You have denied yourself long enough. The world is no longer what it was. The old ways are dead or dying. There will be no more Conclaves."

She raised an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"

Nyko had never struck her as delusional but now she was beginning to question that judgment.

He nodded. "Right now we have a Commander with no nightblood, elected without a Conclave. We are already living such a reality."

Luna made a face. "I don't think the prince of Azgeda commanding the thirteen clans is evidence of a brighter future." The knowledge of what their queen had done to sweet Costia had been the kindle for many of her nightmares over the years and even now it sparked a rage in her heart as few other things could.

She in no way held Roan responsible for the crimes of his mother but she knew the kind of people Azkeda bred, how resistant they were to peace. Floukru had contained at least one former member of every clan - except Azkeda. None from the Ice Nation had ever sought out peace or sanctuary. Or if they had, they hadn't gone to the sea to find it.

She'd also had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting Roan during her youth on multiple occasions and, whilst she'd found him nowhere near as bloodthirsty as his mother, he was no less ruthless for it.

He would have made a good nightblood.

If the world wasn't already about to end, Azgeda's king sitting on the Commander's throne might have worried her.

For now, it brought her only the faint impression of bitter amusement. Luna smiled slightly, imagining how her former mentor would have reacted to this momentous shift in the tides. "I'm sure Titus is rolling in his grave right now."

All his precious traditions discarded into the abyss - and by the son of Queen Nia, no less.

That was one bright side, at least.

She bore Titus no resentment, had washed herself of that long ago. Her heart had even ached for him when she'd learned of Lexa's death. But she could not forget the horrors he'd subjected her to, the blood he'd forced on her hands.

Nyko narrowed his eyes at her reprovingly and she felt all of ten-years-old again, caught running about the halls of the tower when she was supposed to be on bedrest from her latest injury. Just as she had then, she returned his disapproval with a look of utmost innocence.

She could hear the words he usually reproached her with, as though they had fallen on her only yesterday.

('You are big trouble for such a little moon.')

Nyko's reproaches were always so much more palatable than Titus', more fond than rebuking.

And yet. . .

It was strange but she'd come to almost miss the sanctimonious man's lectures. Titus had never been fond of her and the feeling had been more than mutual but. . . he'd been a part of her life for thirteen years. Had raised her, in his own way.

She'd lived with the knowledge all these years that if she ever did see him again, it would be at her execution as he leveled her with all the condemnation his aged body could contain.

And yet. . .

He was one of the last threads to her old life that she still had to hang onto. Or he had been. Now there was only Nyko.

And soon he would be gone, too.

When the Sky People failed in their task and Praimfaya arrived to cleanse the world once more.

Everyone would be gone then.

Everyone except her.

And maybe. . .

But this Luna wouldn't let herself think on.

That hope wasn't hers to have.

She'd come to terms with that a long time ago.

It couldn't be.

Not now.

Probably not ever.

But if Skaikru failed, and if they allowed Luna to leave after the fact, then maybe she would take Nyko up on his offer.

She would have to.

After Praimfaya came, she would be the only one left to take care of that child.

If she was still alive.

So many years had passed. There was no guarantee that she hadn't turned to ash with the rest of Luna's clan.

There was a sudden sway as the boat completed its journey.

Her time was up.

Squaring her shoulders, Luna moved to the door, ducking her head and stepping outside. She lingered, debating whether to give in to the urge and turn back around. Return to the safety of the dark.

A hand on her back halted that impulse.

Nyko sighed and guided her reluctant feet over to the side of the boat that met the dock. "Come, we have a long journey ahead of us."

"I don't think this home of Bekka Pramheda's is that far."

"That is only the beginning of our journey, little moon."

On this, she could agree with him.

Still, the nickname made her pause, narrowing her eyes. "I'm not little anymore."

Nyko shook his head. "You will always be little. Once you were so small you fit in my hand." He held up said hand to demonstrate and she eyed it with significant doubt. She knew he had delivered her and her brother, along with several other nightbloods, but she had trouble believing that she had ever been so small. Luna had attended several births herself but none of those newborn children had ever fit in her hand.

Although, it was true that twins were often born smaller. . .

But then he winked at her, mouth twitching and she realized his game. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the sea. "You didn't fool me."

"No, I saw a moment of belief in your eyes. You doubted yourself." He smiled, then shrugged. "Besides, you will always be a little moon in the face of that one."

Luna followed the direction of his finger up to the sky where she could make out the faint dusting of stars - and yes, a moon - that still lingered in the daylight.

He wasn't wrong.

In the face of such a vast being, she was but a speck of life - and no more important than that.

The realization calmed Luna slightly. The gravity of her own existence had always weighed on her. It was a relief to think that, in truth, she mattered little. Her impact could not compare to a force that had endured for as long as the sea and which had the power to influence the tides.

Luna could barely influence her own life.

She wondered what it looked like up close, whether that was something the Sky People had been granted witness to. The sky was so big, perhaps where they lived the moon appeared as small to them as it did to her.

Luna would ask but she had no desire to hold a conversation with any of them.

She liked Abby, appreciated all that she had done for her and her people, but she was not oblivious to the change in the way the other woman looked at her. Nor was she naive. The moment the healer had realized that Luna could be of use, the potential in her blood, she had become a commodity first and a person second. She had seen that same change spread over all the Sky People now confined to this boat.

Luna recognized that look. She had weathered it throughout her childhood, even beyond. Had seen it on the faces of the Sky People who were welcomed into Floukru, seen it on Clarke and Octavia most of all.

She hated that look.

But no matter what she did or how far she ran, she could not escape it.

That was her curse.

Her price for being born.

Nyko didn't look at her in that way, though. He was aware of the significance of her blood but he had never let that eclipse the value of her life.

For this, he had earned her respect. And her trust.

Two things not easily given.

Luna allowed him to lead her off the boat.

Past

"Is. . . Is it over?"

She had heard the horn. She had heard many horns. Hands over her ears, trying to escape the cacophony of death. She had thought the last horn, today - was it today? - sounded different. But she couldn't be sure.

Couldn't be sure of anything.

"Yes, child, it is over."

The horn had sounded.

They were all dead. Everyone was dead.

It was over.

Dead.

"W-Who?"

"Lexa."

But not Lexa. Lexa was not dead. Lexa was still here. Lexa was Commander. Luna hadn't killed her.

That was good.

Was it good?

What was good?

Lexa.

"I killed him." She killed him. "I k-killed him." He was dead. Gone. Dead. Gone.

That was good.

No, it wasn't.

But it was good.

It was supposed to be-

Good.

He was dead.

This was good.

There was a big sigh, a rush of air that made her flinch back and then the man was crouching down in front of her.

The man was Nyko.

Nyko.

Nyko was not dead.

She did not have to kill him.

"I killed him."

Nyko was a healer.

Nyko helped her.

Nyko was a healer for the Commander.

She was not the Commander.

She was-

Nyko could not help her.

"I killed him."

No-one could help her.

She ran.

She should keep running.

She meant to keep running.

Why was she not running?

"Yes. Yes, you did."

Was he talking about her running? Did he know why she was not running?

She glanced down at her feet. They were very still. Why were they still?

They should not be still.

Feet were never still when running.

She poked the dirty flesh of one. Didn't feel it.

The appendage shifted slightly but remained still.

Why were they so dirty?

She had shoes. Where were her shoes?

Wet, wet, wet.

Wet in the water.

Everything was in the water.

Sol.

She was not in the water anymore.

"I see you have been running for quite some time," the man mused, taking in her feet.

Why was he looking at her feet?

Nyko.

Nyko looked at things.

That was what he did.

Nyko.

He touched the sole of one foot. It felt like the sting of a bee. She flinched back.

"I killed him."

"Yes," he murmured, peering closer at her feet. Sol was not on her feet. Why was he looking at her feet? "May I take a closer look?"

Why?

But she nodded. Saying no was never good. Saying no made bad things happen.

She didn't want any more bad things to happen.

Rough hands encircled her foot, making her skin burn.

She panted.

It was too much.

He was not the person she wanted to be touching her.

His hands were too big.

They did not fit against hers exactly.

They were not impossibly soft in some places, yet hardened by blisters in others.

They were not his.

"These need to be tended to," he said softly.

She looked down again. Saw that her feet were covered in black. But that was not strange.

All of her was covered in black.

The river was black.

Sol was black.

Everything was black.

"I killed him."

He sighed, set her black foot back down.

She swallowed. "He's gone."

He had never been gone before. Thirteen years of life and he had never been gone.

What was she to do with this gone? This empty space existing beside her, inside her. There was a cavern in her chest where a heart should be.

Where was her heart?

Chapter Text

"Are we done for today?"

Luna's voice intruded on the quiet of the lab, an unwelcome interruption to Raven's ever-fraying concentration. She lost the thread of one thought, sighed, closed her eyes and tried to find it again.

Nothing.

Damn it.

She raised her head to focus on the source of her problem just in time to catch Abby shifting uneasily.

The doctor hesitated - likely reluctant for the day to indeed be 'done' when they had so precious little time left to accomplish a miracle cure - but ultimately nodded.

Luna's expression remained somewhat impassive. "Then I'm going outside for a while."

Abby's eyes widened slightly and Raven gave up, abandoning her tablet. She could already tell this wasn't going to play out smoothly.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. We don't know if A.L.I.E. set up any other traps."

That was true but Raven knew it also wasn't the main reason for Abby's objection. She was worried about what Luna might do outside the confines of the lab or mansion when left to her own devices.

Worried she might not come back.

But Raven was confident that even if Luna did consider leaving again she wouldn't actually act on it. She seemed like the kind of person that put a lot of weight behind the decisions and promises they made and stuck to their word. And she'd made her choice that day on the dock, once she had finally been given the freedom to make one.

As long as they didn't go back on their end of the bargain, Luna wouldn't go back on hers. Of this, she was almost certain.

Raven didn't like the lack of surprise on her face at Abby's words, though, like this was exactly the kind of response she'd been expecting. Not when Raven had put so much effort into convincing Luna that her participation in their little humanity-saving mission was entirely at her discretion.

No way Abby was going to undo all her good work.

"Come on, Abby," Raven spoke up when she'd waited too long for Luna to respond. It unsettled her that she hadn't said anything, hadn't fought back.

She knew that Luna was more than capable of standing up for herself and speaking her mind. She'd been on the receiving end of it, after all. So Raven didn't really know what to make of the fact that she wasn't choosing to do so now.

Unsurprised and resigned was the expression she wore.

Raven hated it.

Abby turned to her, surprised at the interruption but open to whatever she had to say - whether she would listen to any of it was another matter.

Griffin women were stubborn. And tended to think they knew best.

The fact that sometimes they did only increased their conviction of this.

(it could be annoying as hell)

"She's been stuck inside for days," Raven reasoned. "She didn't grow up on the Ark, she's not used to this like us."

She'd noticed that, in between Luna's meditations - she seemed to have some sort of daily routine for them but Raven hadn't yet been able to pin down a schedule, from her perspective it seemed to be entirely random - it was becoming more and more obvious that she was growing increasingly close to all but climbing the walls. Luna hadn't said anything but Raven could tell that she didn't feel comfortable inside the stark white setting of Becca's lab where she spent most of her time.

The fact that the majority of that time involved having her blood drained - the blood that she hated - probably didn't help matters.

Raven couldn't blame her for wanting to get some fresh air.

She probably would, too, if she wasn't so used to spending her every second inside a metal cage.

Abby still looked undecided, though, which Raven thought was a waste of time. If Luna wanted to go outside, it wasn't like they had any say in it.

At least, she hoped they didn't.

She wasn't eager to see what might happen if Abby decided that they did have a say in it.

('She's not someone you want to make an enemy out of.')

Raven still thought Jasper had been talking out of his ass but that didn't mean there wasn't some wisdom to his words.

They already had enough enemies in this world, had kind of made a habit out of making them ever since hitting the ground. They didn't need to add Luna to that list, even if she was one of the few who wouldn't be willing to kill them even if she did hate their guts.

With that in mind, she made a decision.

"I'll go with her. If there's any more of those flying drones," fat chance of that, Raven knew she had discovered all of them, "I can deal with them like I dealt with the last ones."

She'd reprogrammed them, tinkering with the already inbuilt facial recognition to ensure that all of their team would be safe from getting shot at if they went wandering about.

Very important when you wanted to save the world.

Luna didn't look exactly pleased at the prospect of having company but she didn't protest.

Abby's mouth thinned with reluctance. "Fine. Just be careful. Both of you."

Good enough.

"Thankyou," Luna said, five minutes into their walk, once the entrance to the lab had disappeared behind them. "For back there. I didn't have the energy to argue with her."

Right. Raven wasn't about to tell Abby and Jackson how to do their jobs but it seemed to her that they'd been taking more blood from Luna than was entirely healthy, though not enough to be dangerous - or, at least, she hoped so.

Actually, she was pretty sure she'd heard them arguing about exactly that before she'd had her first seizure but those minutes were far too hazy for her to recall with any certainty.

Raven shrugged. "She would have let you go eventually. This was just quicker." She'd been trying not to notice how easily Luna adjusted her pace to match hers, how she hadn't even given a sign that she'd realised that they were going slower than they could have been. If Luna minded, it didn't show. She certainly didn't make a big deal out of it, or act concerned - as Abby might have. "She's right, though. We don't know enough about this island and what A.L.I.E. did to it to be sure it's not still dangerous."

The A.I. had a knack for unpleasant surprises.

Really unpleasant.

But Luna shook her head.

"Everywhere is dangerous." Well, Raven couldn't argue with that. "She's worried that I'll try to run again."

Okay, so she had picked up on that. Raven had been hoping otherwise.

She didn't really know what to say. There was little point in denying it, nor could she excuse it. Even acknowledging it, at this point, seemed superfluous. "She's. . . Abby. She's worried about a lot." Including Raven's new and exciting expiration date. "I wouldn't pay it much mind."

Luna had a way of looking at you that was altogether too knowing.

Raven hated it.

She broke the stare.

"So, any plans for where we're going or are we just walking around? I don't mind, either way."

Luna returned her gaze to the crowd of trees in front of them. "The water. Doesn't matter which part of the island, as long as the sea is there."

She probably should have guessed that. "Sure. Is the dock okay? It's just, we already know the way there so less chance of getting lost or running into any of A.L.I.E.'s trigger-happy minions." And less distance to travel on her leg but she'd grin and bear it if she had to.

Abby would probably have a coronary if she knew they were going to the dock, though. Which was stupid because there wasn't even a boat there anymore.

Luna's expression flickered and Raven wondered whether, like her, she was remembering what had taken place the last time they'd been there.

"Not afraid I'll run?"

Okay, so she was definitely remembering it.

Raven kept her voice and expression carefully casual. "Like I said, you're not a prisoner. If you change your mind and want to leave, I'll get you a boat myself."

She meant it. That was the line she'd drawn in the sand for herself now and, no matter what, she wasn't going to cross it.

The corner of Luna's lips lifted slightly. It was simple but real and the first smile Raven had ever gotten to see from her. She wondered whether she'd smiled more before. Before they'd met, before her world had gone to hell.

Raven was sorry she hadn't gotten to see it.

"Thankyou," Luna murmured.

Uncomfortable with the level of gratitude Raven could see in her eyes, especially for something as small as this, she looked away.

No-one should be grateful for receiving basic human decency. It wasn't like Raven had volunteered to sacrifice a limb or something. She just didn't think anyone should have their bodily autonomy taken away, even if it was to save humanity.

Mount Weather had drained her bone marrow in order to save their people - but that had been little comfort to her as she'd laid there, strapped to a gurney, screaming in agony. It was even less comfort to her now, living with the echoes of that pain every day.

Some means couldn't be justified by their ends.

That was something she'd almost forgotten.

Raven was determined that she wouldn't lose sight of it again.

"Well, I mean, if you wanted to run that badly, you'd find a way. Boat or no boat. Hell, I'd say you're a better swimmer than all of us and could probably just swim your way off this stupid island."

It would be a lie to say that a part of Raven hadn't woken up their first morning here expecting to find Luna had done exactly that.

Silence met her remark and curious she turned her head to take Luna in, just in time to see an odd look pass over her face. It was a sudden flash of vulnerability that fled Raven's scrutiny when Luna looked away. She couldn't trace the cause of it or decipher its meaning. Her words had been pretty tame, an offhanded observation and, as she ran them back through her memory, nothing stood out to her. Raven had been known to have a bit of mouth and her snark was legendary but a little comment about going for a swim didn't live up to any of that.

It had definitely unsettled something in Luna, though, that much was clear as she cleared her throat and refused to meet her eyes when she responded. "The dock is fine."

Maybe she had been thinking about swimming away.

But something about that assumption didn't sit quite right.

Raven watched her a moment longer with confusion but decided not to probe. Let's be real, it was none of her business. She out of everyone knew a person had a right to their personal shit without someone coming along to try and dissect it to pieces or get you to open up. "Okay, then."

They spent the rest of the walk in silence.

Now, she watched as Luna took a seat on the edge of the dock, her legs coming to dangle centimetres above the water. If Raven wasn't ninety-nine percent certain that Luna knew how to swim she might have said something. Not having mastered, or even attempted, that skill herself, though, she couldn't help but be edgy around water - especially bodies as large as this. If Luna fell in, what the fuck was she supposed to do?

Even without her leg being a bitch, that was a sure recipe to see them both drowned.

But Luna had been living on an oil rig surrounded by the ocean for however many years so Raven had to trust that she at least knew how to swim otherwise what the fuck was she doing out there?

She certainly didn't seem as fearful of the waves under her feet as Raven was.

Still . . . "You can swim, right?"

That strange look from before lingered in her memory. It would be remiss not to follow it up.

"Yes."

Okay, then.

She felt kind of stupid for asking. Looked away. "Just checkin'."

"Mm." The lack of emotion agitated something inside her.

"Cos I can't. Just in case you were imagining me making some daring rescue. If you fall in, you're on your own."

Unless there were some good branches around. Maybe she could hold one out to Luna?

She thought she'd seen a dog do that once for a half-drowned cat in a movie. Though, Luna was significantly bigger - and heavier - than a cat.

Raven wasn't eager to test the theory.

"I figured. You're very skittish." Luna's face gave nothing away but Raven suspected she was teasing her.

She scowled. "I prefer 'appropriately cautious'."

Luna's mouth twitched. "I'm sure you do."

She was laughing at her, Raven was sure of it. Well, technically not laughing cos her expression was pretty blank, but it was all in the eyes.

She had stupid eyes.

"I'm not gonna save you, that's all I'm saying."

Those eyes crinkled. "I don't need you to save me, Raven."

"Good. Cos I'm not going to."

"Okay."

"Okay."

She shifted somewhat uncomfortably, her embarrassment made only more pronounced by the clear mark of amusement she could see on Luna's face.

Well, at least Abby wasn't going to get all judgy because she let their miracle cure drown. She'd never hear the end of it.

Plus, Murphy would probably laugh his ass off - which might just be the worst possible outcome of all.

Raven glanced awkwardly around her, searching for some indication of what she was supposed to do now. She hadn't really thought this far ahead when she volunteered herself as an unwanted babysitter.

Luna looked back at her, clearly wondering why she had neglected to take a seat herself, but didn't voice her confusion. Raven was glad for that.

The dangers of water aside, the last thing she wanted to do right now while her leg was aching after nearly an hour's walk was sit down. The sitting itself would take some of the pressure off - which would be a relief - but getting down and back up again was always a special kind of torture. If there had been a seat or something more comfortable to plonk herself down on she wouldn't have hesitated.

But Raven's leg hurt just looking at the hardwood of the dock as she imagined the sequence of movements she would have to go through in order to get her ass down on it.

And then having to stand back up again?

Yeah, no thanks.

Pain aside, that was likely to be a humiliating performance and she and Luna weren't that close yet.

Hell, she would've been self-conscious about the people she was close with seeing something like that.

Maybe she would just go over and lean against one of those oh-so-convenient trees and hope Luna didn't mention anything.

For the most part, she seemed content to ignore Raven anyway, which made sense. It had been clear from the get-go that she hadn't wanted an escort on this little excursion but had resigned herself to one nonetheless.

After a moment, Luna pulled off her shoes - which really looked like they could use a clean - and shifted a little closer to the dock's edge so her toes could touch the water when she allowed them to hang down.

You better not fall in.

Luna spent the next few minutes staring out at the sea which was. . .

Honestly, boring as hell.

Raven was kind of regretting tagging along but she wasn't about to interrupt. She wasn't that much of an ass.

Most days.

However, it didn't take her long to find out that there was another purpose for this outing. When Raven realized what it was, she felt even worse about the obvious reluctance Abby had shown in letting Luna leave.

Luna reached into her pocket, retrieving a long, thin braid. The one that had been stowed away again that day on the boat. The one Raven was almost a hundred percent sure she knew the owner of.

Shit.

No wonder Luna hadn't looked pleased about her coming along.

She was not supposed to be here for this.

Grief was a private thing and she'd had too much experience having to suffer through it whilst on full display to everyone else to want to inflict that same torturous spectacle on Luna.

Raven glanced back the way they'd come, wondering if it was too late to high tail it out of here, or at least depart a good ten meters or so to give Luna some space.

She took an undecided step-

"It's okay." Luna's voice betrayed no emotion and she didn't spare her a glance as she spoke. Woman must have eyes in the back of her head. "You can stay. I don't mind."

Raven found it really hard to believe that was true. Suspected it probably wasn't but she was trying to put her at ease, anyway. That seemed to be something Luna enjoyed doing with people - when they hadn't pissed her off.

She bit her lip. "You sure?"

Luna's nod was without hesitation but it still didn't go a long way in making her feel better.

"I'm just gonna stroll along the dock for a bit," Raven decided.

It wouldn't be much of a stroll, considering it was short as hell but oh well. She didn't wait for Luna to respond - and, okay, maybe this was also for Raven's sake because she'd had enough of watching people in their misery - and walked away.

Luna's voice trailed after her.

"Don't fall in."

Her head whipped back around just in time to see a faint smile teasing Luna's lips before it faded away.

So she had a sense of humor. That was good to know. Not exactly important in terms of world-saving but vital information nonetheless considering they were trapped on an island together for the foreseeable future. Possibly for the entire length of humanity's future, if all went to hell.

She wasn't looking to make any more friends but at least Luna looked like she would be more amicable company than some of the other people here (namely, Murphy). Raven wouldn't be opposed to them becoming friendly acquaintances and, given that Luna was the only person on earth right now who wasn't about to kick the bucket, she wouldn't have to worry about watching yet another person she cared about die.

That would be a nice change of pace.

Chapter Text

Given up on walking in circles after ten minutes, Raven admitted defeat (because she was bored and not because her leg had reached mammoth levels of pain) and returned to Luna's spot on the dock.

She hadn't budged an inch and the braid was still in her lap.

They were going to be here a while.

Luna inclined her head to acknowledge her return but said nothing.

She was good at being quiet.

Raven could be, too. But that was usually when she had something interesting to focus on and, as beautiful as this island was, it didn't offer much in the way of that.

Her gaze traveled to the perimeter where the drones lingered and she halfheartedly considered taking one down to tinker with just to pass the time. The chances of something exploding or someone being shot at were relatively small, but she also didn't want to explain any of that to Abby if things did go wrong. Or watch Murphy laugh his ass off.

Fucking Murphy.

She still didn't know why he'd tagged along. It certainly would have been better for her ever-fraying sanity if he had chosen to stay behind.

It was like he was trying to make her life harder.

"I won't be much longer."

Raven started guiltily.

Shit.

Had she been that obvious?

"No, take your time. I'm all good. The fresh air is. . . nice."

Much better than recycled space air, at any rate.

Luna smiled fleetingly. "I know you have things to work on back at the lab and that you don't like being away from it."

That was. . . very true but, "This is important, too."

Raven meant that.

She'd been forced to rush through her goodbyes to Finn and Sinclair. Too much else was going on; hell, she'd barely been given even a second to grieve the former before she was strung up on a pole and forced to endure a lovely game of 'let's cut the little bird to ribbons in order to get our rocks off'.

Luna blinked at her words as though they'd surprised her in some way.

Maybe that was to be expected. She hadn't been given time to grieve, either. Raven could remember all of them - including her - pouncing on Luna just as she was finishing her prayers for the dead upon discovering that she was, very strangely, not among those dead.

And then there was Nyko.

There'd been little time to pay him much respect, either.

Raven's eyes passed over the braid still clutched protectively in her hand.

"The girl. . ." She'd had a name. "Adria. She meant a lot to you."

Enough that Raven had been able to use her to alter the callous course Luna had set herself on.

She didn't want to use her now, though.

This wasn't about convincing Luna to stay, this was about giving her the chance to open up about what she'd lost. If she wanted to.

Raven wouldn't have.

But she knew for some people, talking about your pain helped. Somehow.

Maybe Luna was one of those people.

If she was, Raven wanted to give her that.

It was the least she could do for what she was giving them.

Luna glanced up at her, lips curving faintly, which she took to mean that her continued presence and prying weren't completely unwelcome. "I knew her for a long time. Raised her from when she was small."

Raven hesitated before drawing closer. "What happened to her parents?"

"What always happens," she sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "War. Her entire village was decimated when we came across it. There were only a few in Floukru then. This was back when we were just starting to form, before we found our home on the sea. At that time, we were nomadic. Moving from place to place, away from the battles that would spring up anywhere, everywhere. It was also important that we keep our distance from anyone who had any connection to Polis or the Fleimkepas. When we found Adria, we took her with us. We all cared for her but I. . ." Luna trailed off, eyes drawing downward.

Back to the braid.

It was the first crack Raven had seen in the mask of impassiveness she'd been donning the past couple of days - well, other than the aloof amusement that had hovered over their earlier conversation.

Raven smiled slightly, though it felt tight on her face. "Got attached?"

She turned to her. Nodded. "I've always loved children. Their gentleness. Their peace. But I refuse to have any of my own. I would never curse someone else with this blood. Not by choice."

Raven frowned. Whilst her speech the last time they'd been here had convinced Luna to return, she'd sensed it hadn't truly been enough to rid her of years of entrenched self-loathing - at least, in regards to her blood.

Looked like she'd been right.

It was rare that Raven hated being right. This was one of those times.

She opened her mouth but Luna had already turned away, back to the sea, fingers trailing over the braid in her lap. "But Adria. . . Adria was mine." Her face cracked in a smile, an element of vindication to the weak upturn of her lips. "Turns out blood doesn't count for everything."

Raven swallowed. "No. It doesn't."

Blood hadn't meant shit to her mother. Finn was the closest to family she'd ever had and they'd had no relation to speak of. Thank God, or that would've gotten creepy real fast.

"I'm sorry we couldn't save her."

Luna shrugged. "You tried."

She grimaced, looking away. "I. . . actually, I didn't."

Luna turned back around, but her expression didn't shift. She looked up at Raven, watching, waiting for her to say more. She was good at that. Letting the quiet fill a conversation, just long enough to be effective.

It was actually kind of annoying.

Raven took a breath. "When Abby asked for the pills, I said no. I didn't think they could save her and I didn't want to waste the supplies. Especially since we wouldn't be letting you into Arkadia later once the radiation hit. It didn't seem. . ."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "Logical?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

What was the point of wasting what little protection they had against the radiation? And even if, by some miracle, it did work, what would it even accomplish? No way a handful of Grounders, even if one of them was a child, would find their way onto a list that excluded most of their own people.

That rationality hadn't made Raven feel any better about her decision, though.

"But Murphy stole them anyway, and I was so pissed. I. . ."

Fucking Murphy had been more moral than her.

She glanced up, searching Luna's face, certain that she would see that gentle calm evaporate under dark contempt. Disgust.

But Luna had turned her attention once more to the water, her back transforming into a fortified barrier that Raven couldn't hope to penetrate.

She trailed off, whatever words she was about to claw forth feeling useless on her tongue. She waited for Luna to say something, anything.

But she didn't.

This couldn't be it.

She'd expected more, there had to be more.

Raven had condemned to death the child Luna just admitted to loving as a daughter. And, God, she didn't even regret it. Still thought it had been the right choice. Even as it ate away at her, over a week later.

But Luna said nothing. Did nothing.

"Luna, did you hear what I just said?"

Luna's gaze flicked down and she smiled to herself, though the humor in her eyes was almost bitter.

When she finally spoke, it wasn't about Raven's actions, or Adria.

"At the beginning of a nightblood's training, they actually encourage us to form attachments."

Raven blinked, struggling to grasp what had brought about this sudden shift in subject, what thread of conversation Luna was attempting to pull on. Had she been so horrified by her confession that she couldn't even bear to spend a second longer discussing it?

Raven floundered.

Luna continued, blind to her confusion, or perhaps simply indifferent to its existence.

"A good leader has to be hard, but not completely without heart. If we weren't able to still care for our people, what use would we be?" Luna's shoulders lifted a moment as she hesitated. "But there's a point, where caring becomes too much. It must always be about the greater number, rather than the individual. Love from a distance - it was something Lexa and I never quite accomplished." The corner of her mouth drew up slightly, though there was a bitter edge to the expression, even as it was tempered by amusement. "In the end, I think it's what made us stronger novitiates. We were always fighting for so much more than the others. But there's a cost to that."

Raven frowned, she didn't understand the point of this. What it had to do with a dead kid she'd refused to save. "Adria-"

"One of the first things we do in our training is learn how to care for something other than ourselves. So they give us each a rabbit, and that rabbit is our responsibility. For a year, we take care of it, protect it, ensure its survival. Learn to love it." Luna's eyes trailed to the braid in her lap, thumb caressing it softly. "And then, after the year is up, they test us. All the novitiates are locked in a room. Except for one." She hardened her shoulders, set her gaze once again on the sea. "You. The others, they stay in that room, without food, only water. You're fine. You're outside the room. You get food. Your bed. Every comfort important to life. But the others, they starve. For days. Weeks."

Luna's voice was still carefully neutral but Raven could sense a growing tension in it and her stomach began to curdle with unease.

She wasn't sure she wanted to hear the end of this.

"But it doesn't have to take that long. The Fleimkepas give you the power to save them. A knife. And your rabbit. If you kill the rabbit, you can feed it to them. Save them from hunger. From death." Luna scoffed then, the sound unnaturally harsh from her lips. "They wouldn't have actually let any of us die - not us. We were too valuable. But we were still so young. We didn't know that. We couldn't. We hadn't learnt it yet. The most important lesson. . ." She swallowed. "Our lives matter too much until they don't matter at all."

Raven took a step forward - to do what, she didn't know. Something to wipe that look from Luna's face. She couldn't even judge what that look was, exactly. Something darker than sorrow, more lifeless.

Small.

Luna looked small.

But Raven halted at the sound of her continuing - just in time. What the hell was she going to do, anyway? Pat her on the back? Mutter 'tough titties' and awkwardly scramble for a subject change?

She had a feeling even Murphy could provide better comfort than that.

Luna's voice, which had started to drop, turn faint, regained its strength; Raven relaxed slightly. "We all go through that test, one by one. No exceptions. Everyone kills their rabbit, eventually."

Her gaze lowered to the braid once more as the world descended into empty silence.

Raven stared. The vivid picture Luna had just painted enough to momentarily distract her from her guilt.

The pang of starvation was nauseatingly familiar to her, clinging to the wretched years that pieced together her early childhood. The idea that anyone would inflict that experience on a kid as a teachable moment made something boil inside of her.

At least her mother's actions had been born out of a reckless disregard for her own child's needs rather than cruel intention. That didn't excuse what she'd done by any means but. . .

It was certainly more palatable, if such a thing ever could be. Easier to swallow, to understand - if not forgive.

Her mother certainly hadn't possessed any pride in it. Just the opposite, in fact. The few times she'd been sober enough to acknowledge what she'd done, there'd been nothing but shame.

Raven didn't know what she would have done if she'd ever swung around and said to her that it had been right.

Necessary.

Probably, she would have punched her in the face.

(who was she kidding? She would have bitten her tongue and abandoned the apartment for Finn's soothing presence, for the reminder that there was someone who loved and appreciated her, who valued her safety and wellbeing. Then she would have returned a few hours later to check that the woman who gave her life was still breathing; clear away the empty moonshine bottles littering the apartment; and tuck her into bed.

Somehow, someway her love for that woman always won out over her hate.

And she'd lived with the shame of that for years, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it)

Raven had been allowed to grow up before the world forced her to kill in order to protect. She'd been allowed to hold on to what she loved.

"That's barbaric," she sputtered at last, all thoughts of Adria lost for the time being, swallowed up by memories she'd hoped to abandon to the darkness of space.

Maybe there was some mercy in that.

In a moment's escape from the rattling breaths of a dying child who she'd refused to help.

Luna finally turned around at the statement, expression blank. "But effective." She shrugged. "And the lesson doesn't stop there. A year later, the inhabitants of Polis and surrounding villages line up outside the tower. One by one, they start to get whipped. They volunteer for it, of course. It's their duty. An honor, even. But it's horrible to watch. They're your people, you're supposed to protect them. And you can. Another choice. The whipping will stop, if you take a knife and cut those you love. Deep enough to scar, to really hurt, but not so deep as to risk death or permanent injury."

The way she described it bordered on clinical - utterly without passion, which was almost more unsettling than the content of her speech.

Raven's jaw clenched, ribs burning as she remembered the cut of such a knife. She didn't want to hear this.

Didn't know how not to hear it, either.

She'd wanted to offer Luna the chance to talk.

And here she was: talking.

Raven hadn't been at all prepared for what she had to say, though.

But that didn't really matter, did it?

This wasn't about her.

Or, it shouldn't be.

Perhaps there'd been an element of selfishness in her impulsive decision to confess. She'd only thought about her own actions - and what Luna would make of them. Had been overtaken by the urge to unburden herself, to halt whatever tenderness she saw building for her in Luna's gaze - she couldn't allow it to take root.

So maybe Raven's revelation had been more for her own sake.

Maybe it hadn't been about Luna at all.

But this was.

And she owed it to her to at least listen.

Not that it mattered. Luna seemed determined to continue, with or without her attention.

"The Commander and Fleimkepa know you well by this stage, have watched you, know your personality, your ties. Usually, it's family they choose, or another nightblood you've formed a bond with. Again, we all do it."

She paused, before reaching down and lifting her shirt - revealing two angry strips of darkened flesh over her ribs.

Raven's skin cried out in aching memory and she had to take a moment to steady her breathing.

Death by a thousand cuts.

These ones looked deeper than her own, the scars less faded despite having existed for longer.

She remembered how Lexa had run a sword through the heart of the man who had framed Raven, a man she'd seemed to care for deeply.

Gustus.

So this is how they prepared you for that.

It made a ruthless kind of sense.

But that didn't deter the bile rising in Raven's throat, didn't soften the ghost of pain skating across her ribs.

She had the sudden urge to flee.

Tramped down on it.

Luna didn't look at her, didn't notice the turbulent emotions raging across her face. "This one's from my brother."

She touched the top scar, almost tenderly

Raven hadn't even known Luna had a brother, or that he'd been a nightblood as well - as she seemed to be implying.

She wondered what had happened to him.

If Raven was honest, she could admit that she had little understanding of what it actually meant to be a nightblood. Her knowledge tended towards the sciencey side of it - to A.L.I.E. and Becca's involvement in the whole affair. But Clarke had mentioned something about a fucked up tradition the Grounders had of intentionally killing off the few nightbloods they managed to find - which didn't make any kind of long-term sense. She hadn't gone into detail but Raven had gotten the sense that whatever she'd witnessed had been. . . traumatic.

The horror story Luna was painting for her now certainly seemed to live up to the legend. Raven suspected she probably didn't want to know what exactly had happened to her brother. The odds that he was alive were slim.

They wouldn't be hanging all their hopes on the woman in front of her if there were still other nightbloods out there to prey upon.

But. . . there was a possibility that he'd gone into hiding, too. Same as Luna. He could be anywhere right now, safe - and she wouldn't blame Luna for choosing not to disclose that information to them, or his location.

If Raven only had one person left in the world that she cared about, she'd want to protect them too.

Luna's hand drew her attention as it moved down to the second scar. It lingered there, finger tracing its ghastly expanse. "And this is Lexa's. She cut deeper. Didn't want to risk being made to do it again. She was always very thorough." With that, Luna lowered her shirt, swallowing slightly before her face returned to its mask of dispassion. "We don't form attachments as easily after that."

Raven had to look away a moment. She knew it was just her mind playing tricks on her but she swore her ribs were hissing, searing tendrils climbing the expanse of her body. "Why are you telling me this?"

She could feel Luna's eyes on her, watching. "You made the smart choice, Raven. The logical choice. The same one I would have made - if I'd accepted the role of Commander. Which is one of the reasons why I didn't, why I wouldn't ever take the Flame willingly."

Raven hesitated before meeting her gaze, insides turning at the empathy she saw there.

She didn't deserve it. Not from Luna. Not for this.

But Luna seemed determined to give it anyway.

"You were right. Those pills didn't save Adria. And, as you said, you would only have been saving her for the horrors that came later." She hesitated. "It's not the choice I would have made, but I don't blame you for making it."

Raven stared. "You loved her."

Luna's gaze tracked down briefly, hesitating on the braid in her lap. The one she hadn't been able to bring herself to part with. "Yes. More than I've ever loved anyone." She took a breath. "When A.L.I.E. attacked Floukrou, I made the choice to kill someone else I loved, in order to save Adria's life." Her lips curved somewhat bitterly, finger trailing over the length of the braid. "Saved her for a slow and painful death soon after, as it turns out." She raised her eyes to Raven's once more and that smile turned softer, more genuine. "I am the last person alive who has the right to judge anyone for the choices they make. And that includes you."

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple."

Seeing that she still looked unconvinced, Luna sighed. "I could judge you, Raven. But I can't say that judgment would hold much weight. And honestly right now I don't have the energy for more judgment. Or the heart for it. So, if that's what you're looking for, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to go elsewhere for it."

Well, that was a far cry from the words she'd spoken on this very dock only two days ago. Her judgment and disdain for all humanity - including Raven - had been on full display then.

This was more in line with the Luna she'd heard Clarke and Octavia speak of, on the rare occasions they ever mentioned their time in Floukru.

Raven wondered which Luna was the real one.

Perhaps they were both real. Struggling for dominance inside her, rising to the surface one day, sinking the next.

Or maybe neither of them were, and the truth existed somewhere in between. 

Raven had just learned more about Luna than she'd ever hoped (or wanted) to, and yet somehow, she felt more like a mystery to her than ever before.

Whoever Luna was, Raven realized suddenly that she wanted to know her.

She shouldn't. It wasn't important, wouldn't help her save the world, save anyone. Nor was it probably wise. Getting to know people often meant one day being hurt by them, or having to watch them be hurt by others.

But she was lonely. Her closest friend right now was old enough to be her mother and their relationship could be. . . volatile.

Being around Luna, though; talking to her . . . it was easy.

Frighteningly easy.

Just like being around Finn had once been.

She could use a little easiness in her life.

Had a feeling Luna could use it too.

Raven hesitated before advancing and lowering herself somewhat awkwardly onto the dock beside her, suppressing a grimace at the spiderweb of pain that shot up her hip. Once down, she paused a moment longer before allowing her feet to dangle over the edge like Luna's - it was more comfortable and she had learnt very quickly to seize whatever comfort she could find.

The water beneath her feet had become calm - almost too calm - and, unnerved by the threat it still posed, she looked away, eyes pausing briefly on Luna's exposed feet, resting far too close to hers.

There was a small blemish on one, a shape of sorts. For a moment, Raven thought it might be a tattoo - to match the ones on her upper arms - but closer scrutiny unearthed a shadowy discoloration that could only be organic.

A birthmark?

Interest lost, she focused on the owner of that mark once more.

Luna watched her actions closely but didn't draw away. If she found the increased proximity of Raven's presence an intrusion, it didn't show.

There was nothing she could say to Luna that felt even close to adequate after all she had just revealed. There were no words that softened the ache of a childhood destroyed, and Raven knew that intimately.

She also suspected that Luna hadn't revealed this aspect of her past because she wanted to be comforted, to be heard. Rather, it was a tool she'd employed in an attempt to ease Raven's own pain.

And that was. . .

Well, she didn't really know what to do with that.

Against her will, her eyes were drawn to Luna's ribs, picturing the cuts that had been hidden away once more, thinking of the history they held.

She knew just how painful that history could be. And what it must have taken Luna to share it with her.

Raven couldn't understand it.

Probably never would.

Taking a breath, she gestured at Luna's side. "Can I?"

Raven wasn't sure where the impulse had sprung from. She hated anyone touching her own scars. Freaked out once during sex with Wick when he'd tried to. But the memory of Luna's story still made her stomach churn, even moreso the way she had looked at those scars with a certain fondness. Like they were keepsakes, gifts from those she loved, rather than the marks of abuse they really were. But then, what else did she have left over from her family? Her friends?

No graves, no photos.

A couple of scars and some hair.

Raven had a necklace. That was all.

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

But it was what she had.

Luna looked at her in slight confusion but lifted her shirt back up with little hesitation. Raven would have snapped and walked away if someone had asked the same of her, but Luna's demeanor had always been softer. Not pliant, not weak . . . but more peaceful, at ease with the things expected of her.

With her horrors.

Raven hesitated, hand hovering in the air before she let herself touch, fingers gliding lightly over the scar that had been gifted by her brother. Luna flinched slightly but didn't pull away. Raven wondered if she was the first to touch it and hastily rethought her decision to do so. What if this was an invasion? Added salt to wounds that even a lifetime couldn't fully heal?

But she didn't pull away and, after a moment, Luna exhaled, relaxing under her hand.

Raven couldn't conjure any words of comfort, could barely speak at all, but she could offer this.

A gentle touch.

She tried to imagine a child cutting into this flesh, Luna doing the same to another, wondered just how young they'd been at the time.

The Grounders and Sky People could certainly compete for brutality. And all in the name of survival.

That justification was starting to taste like ash in her mouth.

Surrounding the two scars were a bunch of smaller, faded lines, too many to count at a glance. They disappeared under the wrapping of Luna's bra - which she was trying her best not to look at, out of respect (thank God, only the bottom half was showing). Despite her curiosity, Raven decided not to ask about those. She was reluctant to hear any more grisly tales about what growing up as a nightblood entailed.

"How do you live with it?" Raven asked, when she finally felt able to speak again. "All of it. The choices. The guilt."

Luna's hand came up to cover hers, though she didn't pull it away, just folded her fingers over Raven's in a firm but gentle hold. "Hope. Hope that there's something more to life than those choices, than surviving."

Raven's skin burned under the touch, electricity firing along her nerve endings, shooting up her arm - all the way to her heart. It was uncomfortable. But also invigorating. She didn't know whether to tear herself away, or lean in further to the touch.

She swallowed.

"And if there isn't?"

Luna didn't hesitate. "Find something that's still worth fighting for. Something that matters. For me, it was building a safe place of peace for my people."

"And now that you've lost that?" She felt bad for asking, for poking at a wound nowhere near as healed as the scar beneath her hand, but she needed the answer.

"I suppose now I'm just trying to find whatever peace I can." Luna gave her hand a squeeze, tried for a smile but it seemed hollow to Raven, void of the hope she professed to cling to.

Heart thudding in her chest, she squeezed back.

Raven tried to remember the last time she'd held someone's hand - more than briefly - for no other reason than to just hold it.

Until now, she hadn't realized that she'd been missing that contact. That she needed it.

But holding Luna's hand felt a little like breaking the surface of a nightmare, in those few minutes afterwards when she took the time to just breathe.

To be still.

Everything was okay, everything would be okay, as long as she just breathed.

The terrors of tomorrow could wait. All she had to do was close her eyes and immerse herself in the knowledge that, for now, she was safe. For now, death lay behind and ahead of her, but not inside this moment.

That was what holding Luna's hand felt like.

Raven wondered whether it was doing the same for her. Hoped it was.

They were quiet for some time, before Luna spoke again, curiosity in her gaze. "Why did you tell me about Adria?" She cocked her head to the side. "Were you looking for solace or condemnation? Retribution or forgiveness?"

Raven's mouth opened but words failed her. It had been impulsive, the confession. She wasn't sure she'd been seeking anything at all. Or, not really.

True, she'd wanted to talk about it with her, to unburden herself. Mostly because every ounce of kindness from Luna felt like sandpaper against her skin, like she was deceiving her in some way.

She'd needed to talk about it - but that didn't mean she'd been looking for anything.

Punishment or forgiveness hadn't been the goal.

The truth had.

Luna's lips quirked slightly. "Because, as I told you, I'm not sure I'm the right person to give you that. The things I've shared, believe me when I say those. . . are the least of my crimes." She shrugged lightly. "And besides. I'm no judge, no Heda. And I don't want to be. I forfeited that role when I forfeited the Flame."

Raven couldn't hold her tongue this time. "You seemed full of judgment the last time we were here."

Luna didn't blink, her expression remaining as calm as the water beneath their feet, not even a ripple to mar it. "And I was. I don't respond well to being forced into things. That usually ends with me having to kill someone, often someone I love." Her mouth hinted at something that might have been a smile, lids lowering slightly as she stared at her lap, but the subject was far from humorous. "Especially when it involves my blood. I was angry. Hurting. Scared." Raven stiffened slightly at the implication - that Luna had been scared of them. Her stomach turned. "And I can be again, if that's what you really want. But I'd rather not return to that state, if I can help it." She hesitated. "I can't exist inside it and still do what you need me to do. Do you understand? You asked me not to give up. This is the only way I know how to do that."

Yeah. Raven could understand.

Luna needed to believe that they were worth saving. Any of them. All of them. She needed to live in that belief, to immerse herself in it.

Otherwise, she would drown - and take the rest of them down with her.

Right now, Luna held their lives in the palm of her hand. Their salvation flowed in her veins, and Raven had handed her the power to choose whether she granted it or not.

She could just as easily let them sink to their doom.

In spite of that realization, Raven felt no regret for the choice she'd made; the steady heat of Luna's hand enveloping her own warded against it.

Perhaps there was room for sentiment at the end of the world, after all.

And if there wasn't, Raven was determined to make some.

She swallowed and nodded.

Luna smiled and that gesture was all she needed to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that her choice had been worth it.

Whatever happened, it would be worth it.

Raven cleared her throat, realizing she could answer her question after all. "I told you because I thought it was something you should know. Since you're helping us."

Helping me.

Luna frowned a little, this answer seemingly one she hadn't expected. "And what if knowing had made me leave?"

Raven's lips parted but she said nothing.

To be honest, she hadn't really thought that far ahead and even if she had, she wasn't sure it would have been enough to keep her silent.

The absence of words seemed to tell Luna all she needed, though.

That smile returned.

"Well, thankyou, then. For telling me."

"Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours."

― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

Chapter Text

"We should all hold kelp or seaweed in our hands at least once and feel its weight. Somehow it was torn free, forced from its environment to wash ashore. And I realize it doesn't belong here. It's dying beneath the sun's rays. It hurts. And I know how it feels."

-'The Salt in His Kiss: Poems' by Alfa

The journey back to Becca's lab consisted of little but silence. They'd barely exchanged a word after Luna relinquished her hold on Raven's hand. She drew back, watching as Luna's top was allowed to finally fall, concealing the scars once more. Raven suspected it would be a long time before their image had faded from her consciousness, though.

In a way, their reveal had been a gift. One she understood the significance of, appreciating what it must have taken for Luna to give it to her - even if Raven didn't entirely understand why she'd done so; what had made her deserving of such a privilege in Luna's eyes.

Doubtless, she'd stew over the many possibilities for that in the nights to come.

Gift or not, though, the memory of what she'd seen, what she'd heard had left a sour taste in her mouth.

She really hadn't needed inspiration for any more nightmares.

Thanks for that, Luna.

Still, however heavily this aspect of Luna's past rested on Raven's shoulders, she knew that weight could not compare to what Luna had carried almost all her life, from the moment those scars were brought into being.

Plus, Luna hadn't been privy to Raven's own history, to what recollections her story might provoke, so she could hardly blame her for the phantom strangling of her stomach and the ghost of her mother's liquor-stained breath in the air. Or the way her ribs still seared in protest.

Luna hadn't known.

And even if she had, she'd only been trying to help. Of that much, Raven was ninety-nine percent certain.

So get over it, Reyes.

She wondered what about her made Luna think she was deserving of that help.

There was a reason she hadn't bothered to answer the question posed to her, standing on this very dock.

'Do you really think you deserve to be saved?'

No, not particularly. Not even back when she'd been a kid and Finn had held out half his rations to her.

Didn't mean Raven wasn't going to fight like hell not to die, though. Maybe she didn't deserve a rescue but she cared about herself enough to do her own rescuing.

Or, at least, she had - until saving herself meant not saving everyone else.

Still, it wasn't like she could have said any of that to Luna. None of it was exactly a ringing endorsement for humanity, or capable of convincing her to stay.

Raven had never really been all that worth staying for.

Ducking her head, she resolved to give Luna more time at the dock - considering she'd monopolized her attention, dragging her away from her reason for being here in the first place. But Luna announced a desire to leave - Raven's eyes catching the movement of her hand as she stowed the braid away once more.

Despite her intentions, that was one keepsake she appeared unwilling - or unable - to part with. Raven could understand that. It had barely been a week since Adria died.

Finn had been dead for months and she still wasn't ready to let go of him.

Raven didn't comment on it, voicing her assent as she went about the painful process of getting herself vertical again. Like she'd predicted, it hurt like a bitch and was more than a little humiliating.

Luna didn't stare but nor did her eyes dart away in an effort to 'protect' her pride. It was the best response she could have hoped for, and she was shamefully grateful for it.

Pain and humiliation aside, Raven found she didn't regret what she'd done. Her hand still tingled with the ghost of Luna's touch and she appeared markedly more relaxed in Raven's presence than she had been in all the days they'd spent together on the island. She even spared Raven a small smile as they departed - this one real.

It acted as a balm to her aching nerves, repelling any regret that might have formed in consequence.

Nothing more was said.

The walk back to Becca's lab was slower than the walk to the dock had been and - impossibly - seemed even longer. Raven's hip protested every step and her movements felt stiff. She knew that she'd pushed herself too hard (like always). The excitement of the first day on the island coupled with her recent - and very first - seizure was starting to add up. Combine that with the trek she'd taken today and her body was keen to let her know its displeasure.

Asshole.

Raven gritted her teeth and ignored it.

They were about halfway back, though, when Luna slowed to a halt.

"Let's stop for a while."

Fuck that.

"We don't have to stop for me."

That might have come across a little snappish but she was tired and sore and Luna had just stepped on one of her most sensitive trigger points. She hated people treating her differently, pitying her, babying her. It made her feel as helpless as they clearly assumed her to be, like she really couldn't do anything.

And she could. Raven knew she could.

She just had to push herself.

(harder and harder, it seemed, each day)

If Luna was bothered by her tone, it didn't show. In fact, she looked distinctly unruffled. They could have been discussing the weather for all the inflection her voice carried when she deigned to respond. "I never said we were. I'm tired."

Raven had no doubt that was true considering she'd been used as a veritable blood bank the past couple of days but she also knew that wasn't why they were stopping - and she hated it.

However, her leg was becoming impossible to ignore, promising that it would only be a matter of time before it started affecting her gait in embarrassing ways. Raven wouldn't be able to hide it, then.

Not that she really needed to. Likely, there was very little she could hide from Luna and this definitely wasn't it.

Still, it made her feel better to at least participate in the appearance of doing so.

"Fine," she huffed, rolling her eyes when she saw the small but triumphant smile that passed over Luna's lips. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, though."

Luna hummed, stepping over to a tree and leaning against it. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

She did look tired now that Raven took the time to notice, but also far too smug for her liking.

Maybe a friendship with Luna wouldn't be all that easy, after all.

In fact, she was growing to suspect it would be downright irritating.

As they stood in silence, Raven noticed an edging of reluctance in Luna's eyes as her gaze drifted again and again toward where they were going - the path to Becca's lab.

Maybe there had been an alternative motive to her suggestion that they stop. "You really don't like being in there, do you?"

Luna didn't ask her to elaborate, only lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "I've been in worse places."

Raven wasn't in the mood for evasions. "But you don't like it."

Luna's eyes found their way to her, considering. "No. I don't."

"Is it because it's indoors?" Because. . . she could understand that. If she'd grown up on the ground, amongst all this nature and fresh fucking air, she'd probably have a problem or two with being locked inside as well.

Luna shook her head. "I've been indoors for long periods of time before. In The Tower. On the oil rig. But those places were my home. And I was surrounded by people I cared for. Becca's lab is. . ."

"Unfamiliar," Raven guessed.

She inclined her head. "Cold. And empty." The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, a flash of feeble humor in her eyes. "It's not where I'd prefer to spend humanity's last days."

Raven suspected the fact that Abby seemed determined to act as her jailer at times also didn't help. "How do you like the mansion?"

She'd spent little time there herself but Murphy sang it so many praises she was half expecting him to write a song in tribute any day now.

"Better. More interesting." That smile returned, the humor in Luna's gaze approaching genuine now. "A lot more comfortable."

Raven snorted. Yeah, the lab didn't have much in the way of that. Probably another thing that was fucking with her leg.

"But it's still not for me," Luna finished. "I prefer to be closer to the sea and, failing that, closer to the ground." She glanced down at the grass beneath their feet. "Able to breathe the air. The Tower in Polis may have been far apart from nature but you could always breathe easily there. In some places, walls had fallen away completely." Her eyes glinted. "Which could be terrifying as a child when one of the other novitiates threatened to push you over the edge in vengeance for a perceived slight. Lexa was very fond of that."

Raven smiled a little. Her feelings towards the former Commander were. . . less than amicable but she liked the way Luna's face had softened whilst talking about her, how some of the age seemed to have lifted from her features.

"Sounds like fun. Wouldn't mind doing the same to Murphy." The temptation to actually push him over might prove too much for her, though.

"John seems nice."

Raven guffawed. "I'm not sure anyone has ever said that about Murphy."

Luna shrugged. "I like his cooking." Her eyes sparkled.

"I suppose he had to have one redeeming quality," she grumbled.

Luna seemed to be fighting hard not to laugh before she turned away to escape the urge. Raven's smile lingered and she finally allowed herself to rest back against her own tree.

Maybe this whole taking a break thing wasn't so bad.

She could even believe for a while that Luna hadn't suggested it for her sake.

After a time, though, she noticed Luna's attention had strayed and her fingers were tracing the lining of her pocket.

Raven deflated.

She'd tried to forget their reason for this little outing.

But it was obvious that Luna couldn't.

Raven hesitated, not sure whether to let sleeping dogs lie, or whether Luna would appreciate the chance to talk about it. She erred on the side of caution. "Do your people believe in an afterlife?"

Luna glanced back at her, brow furrowing slightly at the question. The tiredness, though - that had been but a shadow before - was more clearly starting to show itself in her eyes and the sag of her shoulders.

Raven wondered if she also hadn't fully recovered from her recent brush with death. She'd been as sick as the rest of her people for a while there. The effects of that would take time to fade, or so she'd assume.

Abby had given Luna the green light for travel before they'd set off on their little mission but she knew that the doctor was constantly navigating a balancing act between the nightblood's wellbeing and the future of all mankind.

Finally, Luna spoke. "It differs from clan to clan but, for the most part, no. Growing up, I was taught that only the Commander could ascend to such a place. That only their spirit lingered."

Right. The Flame.

Raven supposed it could be considered life after death, in a manner of speaking. Clarke had been very insistent that a part of Lexa remained in the A.I. and, knowing the science, Raven couldn't exactly argue with her belief.

"Except it wasn't seen as a privilege, but a duty. Our commitment to our people must survive long after death. Once you take the Flame, you forfeit any right to rest. But everyone else, we're allowed to finally sleep. To find peace in death." Luna said the words softly, voice dropping out at the end with the faintest undercurrent of. . . something.

Maybe longing?

She'd never heard death described as a privilege before but maybe for a culture that viewed life as nothing more than a perpetual fight, there was some sense in that.

"Your fight is over," Raven murmured with understanding.

Luna nodded. "It was one of the few things that Titus and I ever agreed on. Well, to a point. I wanted us to find that peace sooner. I felt that it was a waste of life, to spend it fighting until death."

She wasn't wrong, but being right about something didn't necessarily mean it would become a reality. Just because they deserved a life of peace, a life without fighting didn't mean any of them would get it. The world didn't work like that.

No matter how much they wished it did.

She'd learned very quickly that if you wanted to survive for any length of time, you had to fight for the right.

Peace was an afterthought.

Luna had clearly felt differently.

Raven wondered if she still did.

She wet her lips. "May we meet again."

Luna squinted. "What?"

She shrugged. "It's what we say when someone dies. Maybe because it sounds less like goodbye. Eventually we'll find each other again, somehow. Death isn't the end."

Luna's mouth ticked up slightly, weak but evident. There was appreciation in her eyes. "I like that."

"Mm. It's strangely optimistic for my people." At times, too optimistic for Raven's tastes. But she could understand the pull of it, the temptation. The hope it had offered to many. "For us, the ground was the afterlife. Our heaven. We spent our nights dreaming of returning to it."

That dream had barely been realized before it descended into the realm of nightmares.

Luna looked intrigued and Raven was relieved that she'd at least managed to distract her from Adria. She hesitated before choosing to recite the Traveler's Blessing. Maybe Luna would be able to make more of it than she had.

Maybe it could still do someone some good.

Even if it held no comfort for Raven anymore.

"In peace, may you leave the shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again." She wet her lips. "That's what we say. That's our prayer."

Luna's mouth lifted slightly, but her eyes were sad. "I hope your people are right."

"Yeah," Raven sighed. "Me, too."

And about more than just this.

If the nightblood solution failed. . .

Her hand clenched.

For all Raven's efforts, Luna's fell away too soon.

She sighed, dropping her gaze to the earth. "I never should have brought them to Arkadia. If we had stayed, at least they would have died surrounded by the sea. And then I could have returned them to it. Properly."

Raven frowned. "You were just trying to save them."

Her mouth twisted slightly. "Well, I've always been better at killing people than saving them."

Yeah, okay. She'd heard enough. "That's not true. You created a refuge, a place of safety and freedom for so many people, Luna."

"And in the end, only brought them death." It was the most emotion she'd heard Luna release since she'd held a gun to her and Raven retreated from the memory. "My entire clan is gone, Raven. I doubt any other leader can say that. If they'd never come to the sea, they never would have eaten those fish - and they'd still be alive right now."

That was. . . wrong on so many levels. The facts were straight, she could give her that, but it still screamed with error. "You're not the reason your clan is dead, Luna - A.L.I.E. is. She's the one who started all this. Or Becca, if we want to get technical. Trace the chicken to the egg."

Luna just shook her head, looking away. "A lot of people start things, Raven. It doesn't mean our own actions don't have consequences."

"Well, this isn't one of yours."

Luna's gaze returned to her slowly and there was a touch of wetness to her eyes. All fervency had left, leaving only grief in its wake.

"If I hadn't brought them to the sea, they'd still be alive. That's a consequence. My consequence."

Raven wished she'd never brought up the subject of the afterlife, opened the door to. . .this.

It hadn't been her intention to ignite Luna's pain, to underscore her suffering. She'd been trying to alleviate it, not add to it.

But maybe this wasn't entirely on her.

Maybe these thoughts had been swirling around Luna's head for a long time and she'd just given them the space to breathe, to mosey their way on into the light.

Luna sighed, reading the conflict on her face. "I know you want to make me feel better about this, and I appreciate that, I do. But you can't." She looked away once more, setting her sights on the direction they'd come - on the sea that could no longer be seen. Her voice dropped lower, weighted by exhaustion. "I'll make peace with it in my own time. But not now."

Raven hesitated but nodded, though Luna could no longer see the gesture. "Okay."

She could understand that. People had tried to make her feel better about Finn's death.

Tried to tell her she had nothing to do with it.

All it did was make Raven angry.

There was no better.

And she knew what she'd done.

Knew the consequences of it.

If she'd never gone on that spacewalk. . .

Words couldn't erase that. She wished they could, but they couldn't.

The death of her people wasn't on Luna. Raven believed that without hesitation. But if Luna didn't believe it, well. . .

Nothing she could say would change that.

You feel what you feel.

Even if it's wrong.

Chapter Text

"When things are at their blackest, I say to myself, 'Cheer up, things could be worse.'

And sure enough, they get worse."

― Robert Asprin

John and Jackson had worked together to heave Raven's unconscious form back to her 'bedroom', Abby and Luna following their actions with anxious attention.

She'd wanted to reach out to her, to carry Raven herself, to hold her - like she'd held her through the uncontrollable rage earlier - but something stopped Luna.

She'd seemed so fragile, laying there on the floor after the convulsions had ceased - it wasn't a descriptor she'd ever thought to apply to Raven. The girl was small but big - her personality and life bursting out of her, dwarfing all other occupants in the room. But unconscious, that grandness disappeared, sucked into the weakening world of sickness, of her body's contrasting frailty.

A part of Luna had been afraid to touch, to break what was already crumbling.

It wasn't a fear she'd experienced for a long time. That nauseating suspicion that her darkness was contagious, that if she touched the light of others she would only contaminate them, spread that darkness like a ravenous disease-

destruction without limits.

But reality had dismissed that fear over the years, that belief that she would ruin all in her path.

Derrick had never been afraid of her touch.

And neither had Adria.

Luna had watched in wonder every time she released them from her arms and their light didn't flicker, didn't go out but instead bloomed, growing stronger.

The fear that her mere existence would bring catastrophe had worn away, been revealed for the irrational paranoia it was.

Until A.L.I.E. had arrived, starting a chain reaction that extinguished all sources of light in Luna's life.

They were gone now.

All of them.

And she could trace that fatal conclusion back to her own actions, her own choices.

Her darkness - the world's darkness - had won.

There was no light left now.

Except for Raven.

Somehow, someway she'd appeared as a torch in a tunnel Luna couldn't find her way out of.

She made something settle inside her, made the darkness retreat.

For a time.

Luna didn't want to break that.

It wasn't rational. She knew it wasn't rational.

But she couldn't make herself reach out.

Not yet.

(and she hated that she'd found herself here again, that years of healing, of growing to be content in her skin, in her soul, had been torn apart in the space of a few weeks.

She'd lost everything.

Except herself.

And now she feared even that was under threat)

Jackson and John retreated from the room Raven had claimed as her own. It was a spartan space, sectioned off from Becca's lab - one of over twenty that Luna had come across in her exploration of the floors. It contained a narrow bed, a computer, and not much else, standing in stark contrast to the luxurious bedrooms back at the mansion. It was rare for Raven to be seen there, though. She kept herself to the lab, working around the clock, barely pausing for sustenance or sleep.

That lack of self-care seemed to be taking its toll.

"You don't need to stay, Luna," Abby murmured absentmindedly, attention wholly focused on the girl in her care. "Thanks for keeping an eye on her but I've got it from here. There's not really that much to do but wait until she wakes up."

The prospect of returning to her own bedroom in the mansion whilst Raven's status remained unknown was far from appealing. There was little point in the endeavor, anyway - Luna was unlikely to find the sleep that had eluded her so far since arriving at Arkadia.

At least if she stayed, she could do something useful - even if it was just waiting for Raven to wake up, ensuring that she wouldn't be alone when she returned disoriented to the conscious world.

"I'm alright here."

Abby said nothing to this, utterly absorbed in her patient. Luna suspected that the out she'd offered had been but a perfunctory courtesy. She didn't care what Luna did with herself - at least for the moment.

There was a relief in that.

A loosening of her shackles.

She took a step closer, eyeing the little bird with growing trepidation.

Raven breathed steadily, eyelids flickering, though she didn't wake. She was facing away from Luna, the angle of her neck tortuously inviting. It was in the perfect position for the ruthless slice of a machete. The cut would be almost seamless, over in an instant.

She blinked and the image evaporated.

Luna sighed, more irritated than distressed by the thought.

She was used to being assaulted by grotesque imaginings. They had become a part of her daily life long ago. A routine element that, despite her best efforts, could not be discarded.

The first time she'd held a newborn baby after her Conclave, her mind had rifled through all potential fates. The hand that cradled that tiny head could easily be used to crush it, to smash skull against stone, obliterating bone and brain in one foul blow. Her little neck, so fragile, could be snapped like a rabbit's, or it could cave under the pressure of strangulation - she needn't apply much.

Luna had been horrified at the time. Had thought that such thoughts expressed intention, even desire. But she'd come to understand since then that her mind simply worked differently, that it had been fashioned that way, from the cradle.

Through how many lessons had she been instructed in the art of killing? The hundreds of ways to sever a person's life?

If she thought on it hard, she could give a number. But no thought was needed to know that, whatever measure sprang up, it would be outrageously high.

Luna was trained to understand the fragility of the human body - and to exploit it.

She felt the hard handle of the machete in her hand, the spray of blood against her face.

The pulse of adrenaline.

She breathed in, imagining the gentle invasion of a wave upon the shore - it came in, it went out

but it never stayed.

Her thoughts were the same. She needn't do anything to make them retreat - nor was there anything she could do. She just had to wait. Eventually, time would take them from her, lure them back into the depths from which they'd sprung.

Her hand unclenched.

It was an exercise in patience. And restraint.

Too often in the past, Luna had been compelled to act on other methods of suppression and defense in an effort to expunge them from her mind.

Some even worked.

But only for a time.

Always the wave returned, often more vicious than the last.

And her methods had gotten increasingly more reckless - and dangerous - to counter that.

It wasn't sustainable.

So, she'd found other ways.

In the end, acceptance was key.

To fight the thoughts only made them more determined - and aggressive.

Now, she let them come and go as they pleased.

It worked. To a point.

Luna exhaled, felt the darkness retreat, her nerves settling back into themselves.

Luna could change her actions and her beliefs, but even she hadn't yet been able to change her thoughts.

So she lived with them, and tried not to afford those thoughts any more attention than they already demanded.

Taking a moment to linger in the space between breaths, she expelled the familiar washing of guilt and shame before focusing her attention once more on Raven.

Her condition hadn't changed during Luna's brief lapse in concentration.

Steeling herself, she took a step closer, biting her tongue on the compulsion to flee, to keep a barrier of safety between them.

Luna had known she was sick and that it had been the reason why John was on 'Raven Sitting' duty for most of the day, whilst Abby and Jackson continued their investigation of her blood. Though, at this point, it seemed a futile endeavor - now that they knew nothing could be achieved on the ground, that they would make no progress without the anti-gravity environment space offered, what could they hope to come up with? - but they were trying nonetheless. Everyone was all too aware of the fact that if Clarke and the others failed to transfer all the barrels of fuel intact then their chances of saving humanity would be, for the most part, destroyed.

Which was exactly what had happened.

And now the mechanic was paying the price for that blunder.

She'd known Raven was sick and that she'd been having headaches as a result.

But she hadn't known what the sickness was.

Or that it was this serious.

Luna was honest enough with herself to admit that she hadn't wanted to know.

Now, she watched as Abby carefully examined Raven's limp form, running what she could only guess were a number of routine checks. Luna didn't like the thin crease to her lips, how clearly it betrayed her worry.

"What's wrong with her?"

What had happened to Raven, the convulsions, she'd seen that before, in another.

It hadn't ended well.

Abby hesitated. "The process that removed A.L.I.E. from Raven's brain was. . . more crude than the process used for everyone else. It left code behind. And it's doing damage."

Luna didn't try to understand the details of what she was saying. Familiarizing herself with the technology in Becca's lab was proving to be something of a steep learning curve and it increased every day. Code, whatever it was, had yet to become a part of her curriculum.

Just as well. Luna had already decided that she didn't like it.

Not if it was doing this - whatever this was - to Raven.

The girl who had shown her kindness when she'd thought never to receive any again.

Placing that gun on the ground, releasing her chains. . .

It had shocked Luna - as few things could.

It meant something.

Raven's kindness had been offered at a cost to herself and those she loved. That made it even more valuable.

That Raven had told her the truth about Adria - knowing that it might cause her to run - meant something. She had put Luna's right to the truth before the needs of her people - herself, even - and that wasn't a boon she was used to receiving from outsiders.

Nyko had been like that.

Derrick, too.

Lincoln had been. . . more fickle. His morality possessing a rigidness and compassion that most of their people lacked, but she hadn't always been able to predict his actions. He had presented her with kindness, though, when she'd needed it most, at great risk to himself.

Just as Nyko and Derrick had.

That brand of kindness wasn't something she'd expected to find in any of the Sky People, not after her introduction to them.

She did know, though, that Raven had desired a more negative reaction from her - likely as a form of penance, to brace the guilty thoughts cycling through her mind on repeat. Luna knew because she had once hungered for the same.

A punishment for what she'd done.

Tangled up in that need had also been a desperate thirst for forgiveness. Absolution.

Comfort.

The last Luna could and would provide, for as long as Raven allowed.

But absolution? Forgiveness?

She could offer Raven her forgiveness but she doubted it would do much good. The person she really desired forgiveness from was no longer alive to give it.

Luna understood that as well.

In the end, though, forgiveness was something Raven would have to give herself. It would be nothing but fleeting otherwise. Especially because Luna suspected that she wasn't so much struggling with what she'd done - it had been inconsequential in the end, after all, nothing she decided could have saved Adria - but her willingness to do it.

To make that choice.

To preserve the lives of others, even if it meant condemning a child to death.

Most people never even contemplated such a thing.

But, once you had, it couldn't be forgotten.

The knowledge lived inside you, a black stain that traversed a path across your conscience, tainting all in its wake.

Luna knew too well what it was to live with such a stain. And she'd been honest in her declaration that her crimes far outweighed Raven's. That her darkness had been birthed from an even deeper abyss.

More than anything, she wanted to pull Raven from that darkness, to keep her from falling into it like she once had.

But Luna could barely keep back her own darkness at this point.

It was also becoming clear that there was an even greater threat that Raven needed saving from.

"How much damage?"

Abby said nothing.

But she didn't have to. Luna had seen that look enough times on the faces of others in her life to know what it meant. She had seen it on Abby's face when Adria's breathing had started to grow more labored, despite the administration of the medicine Luna had hoped, prayed, would be enough to save her.

It hadn't.

And she'd known it couldn't the second she'd caught the healer's eye, looking up briefly from her muffled murmurs into Adria's ear - she'd been trying to comfort her, but what comfort was there for a child in death? She'd barely had the chance to live.

And when she'd looked at Abby, she'd known there was no hope left to have.

Luna lowered her gaze, focusing once more on Raven's face. She seemed peaceful enough, in sleep, and Luna hoped that was a sign that she wasn't in any pain. A rare mercy. "It's killing her."

Abby blinked, perhaps startled by her directness, but after a moment she nodded. "That's the fear. It's possible that if she slowed down, stopped putting greater stress on her brain, she'd be okay but. . ."

Luna smiled faintly, finally giving in to the impulse to reach out, stroking a stray strand of hair back from Raven's face. "She won't slow down."

Nothing happened and Luna allowed herself to relax into the touch.

She didn't know Raven well, but she knew her better than the others here, knew her well enough to understand that she was an unstoppable force that possessed no breaks.

There were some species of shark that needed to keep swimming in order to breathe. If they stopped, they died.

Luna had seen it.

She suspected Raven had functioned in much the same way. Only now, her body needed her to do the exact opposite, to be still, to rest.

To survive, she needed to stop.

But that was against her very nature.

"No," Abby exhaled, resignation filling the lines of her face. "She won't."

"Is there anything else that could fix this?" Luna knew the answer even before she asked. But she had to ask.

There was still a part of her that was capable of hope, and Raven tended to ignite it in her.

Titus had said once that hope was the last refuge of those who had already been defeated.

Those who had the power to secure victory, didn't need hope.

She felt his voice in her head now, mocking her. It had been many years since it had filled her thoughts to such a capacity but in the last few weeks, it seemed to be on a mission to devour her.

"No," Abby sighed.

Luna's gaze blurred for a moment, before it focused once more on the unconscious woman before her. She felt that familiar sensation creep in beneath her ribcage, up into her lungs, surrounding her heart.

Even if her blood saved everyone, it wouldn't save Raven.

The one person she wanted to save more than any other.

Luna was going to lose her. Just like she'd lost everyone else she'd let into her heart.

Perhaps that was her punishment. For all she'd done. All she hadn't done.

"Luna?" Abby's gaze was concerned, a clear sign that she hadn't been able to keep the emotion off her face.

She focused on her breathing, forced that calm back into place. Submerged herself in it until she couldn't feel anything at all.

That wouldn't last and Luna knew it shouldn't, that in that direction lay danger. But for now, it was a saving grace.

She would break through the surface later and deal with the emotions that existed there.

But not yet.

She looked up at Abby, offering a small smile. "You should go and get some rest. I'll keep watch over her."

She hesitated, gaze sliding to Raven. "I don't know. . ."

"I'll get you if there are any changes. Besides, I didn't finish giving my blood today." Luna had pulled the needle out when she'd heard the commotion with Raven and Murphy, and never returned to it. "So I have to stay up and do that, anyway. Now seems as good a time as any."

Though, what point in that there was when their only plan for reaching space had been shattered, she didn't know. But it would be a relief to feel like she was actually doing something, that she was capable of giving help.

Even if it was an illusion.

This seemed to sway Abby enough for her to relent. "I'll go get the kit and set you up again, then."

She suspected the healer needed that illusion as much as she did.

"And then you'll rest?"

Abby rolled her eyes slightly. "And then I'll rest." Those eyes narrowed on Luna a moment later. "Make sure you get some, too. And if you start to feel sick, stop. We've taken a lot already. More than I would usually."

It was nothing Abby and Jackson hadn't already told her but Luna nodded, moreso to put her at ease than anything else - she was no stranger to blood loss. "Goodnight."

Abby hesitated a moment longer, gave Raven one last brief look, before walking away.

Luna closed her eyes.

Ai giv ai op… Gon nemiyon… Kom lanik-de…

Chapter Text

Raven's eyes snapped open, her face screwing up at the sudden attack of light that overwhelmed her senses - fuck. Something touched her shoulder. She startled, yanking away, preparing for the coming attack.

Did she have a gun or a knife nearby? She couldn't remember.

Raven sensed the presence close by immediately retract, the space around her growing.

That was good, that was. . .

"Raven, it's okay."

That voice. She knew that voice.

Even as she tried to puzzle it out, her pulse slowed, body relaxing slightly against her will.

That voice felt safe.

"It's me, Luna. You're in your room, in Becca's lab."

Raven opened her eyes again, prepared for the rush of light this time, forcing herself to endure it. A blurry shape hovering over her gradually came into focus, the halo of thick curly hair causing the rest of her anxiety to evaporate.

Right. Luna. Her room. Becca's lab.

An earthy scent clouded Raven's senses a moment - a direct contrast to the sterility of the room - and she wrinkled her nose, squinting as she better tried to take the other woman in.

Luna was gazing down at her in clear concern, though she kept a good portion of distance between them - probably because of how Raven had freaked out when she'd dared to touch her earlier.

Well, that was embarrassing.

She sighed, trying to take stock of her surroundings and piece together what had happened. She'd succeeded in landing the rocket. She could remember that much. The euphoria that came with triumph, the relief.

Then the crashing wave of dismay and despair.

The fall.

They'd lost a barrel.

"We lost a barrel."

She couldn't believe it.

Luna nodded. "Yes."

Raven sighed, massaging her head, which still throbbed. She was so sick of this fucking headache. Sick of a lot of things. "Damn it!"

A tentative hand reached out, landed on her shoulder. When she didn't flinch away, it clamped down, giving her a light squeeze.

She involuntarily leaned into the touch.

"I'm sorry."

Raven shook her head but lowered her hands from her face, the headache having faded slightly. "Not like it's your fault."

Luna smiled at her sadly. "Still. I'm sorry."

She sighed, glancing around her once more. "What happened?"

"You had a. . . Abby called it a 'seizure'? Passed out." Luna's shoulder lifted in a half-shrug, conveying she probably hadn't understood half of what the doctor had rattled on about. Considering Raven could struggle with the medical terminology herself sometimes, and she actually grew up in the culture which used those terms regularly, that was hardly surprising. "It looked like what one of the other novitiates used to suffer from. They got progressively worse as he got older. And then one night he went to sleep after having one and never woke up. I was worried. . ." She shook her head, dispelling that train of thought, hand gripping Raven's shoulder a little tighter. "How are you feeling?"

Well, that all sounded horrible. She wondered whether there were any happy stories Luna might like to share from her childhood. Would be a nice change of pace.

Then, the first part of what she'd said caught up to Raven. Shit. A seizure? Another one? Like she didn't already have enough on her plate to contend with. Not that a part of her hadn't expected this after everything Abby had said, but she'd really been hoping that the seizure aspect of her brain slowly destroying itself was a one-off. Mostly because she'd been stressing about the logistics of piloting a spaceship when one of those could spring upon her at any moment.

Not that she had to worry about that now.

"I'm fine."

Apart from the fact that she now had to work out how to land a ship with only nine barrels of fuel.

Piece of cake.

God, they were so screwed.

Huffing, Raven forced her aching body to sit up, moving towards the edge of the bed. The hand on her shoulder held her in place.

"Raven, you're sick. You need to rest."

Rest? Rest was a fucking luxury she couldn't afford to have. Everyone was counting on her.

"I don't have time for that. I've got to-"

Luna pushed her back down onto the mattress, the action gentle but firm.

Raven glared. Who the fuck did she think she was? "Luna-"

"You can't help anyone if you're dead. Rest." She pressed down again. Not hard enough that Raven couldn't overpower her if she needed to, but insistent nonetheless. "The world will still be here when you wake up."

"Wanna bet?" she grumbled, caving under the pressure of Luna's touch.

"If it's gone, you can yell at me for it all you want. After you get some rest." Her tone brooked no argument and Raven remembered that not only had Luna been the leader of an entire clan but she'd also practically raised a kid. Winning arguments and getting people to do what she wanted was likely something she had a lot of practice in.

Even Raven's particular brand of stubbornness was probably something she was used to contending with.

"Fine. But I'm not doing any of that weird meditation shit."

The corner of Luna's mouth inched up. "It's not weird. It works." She smoothed a hand over Raven's upper arm in a rhythmic motion, as if trying to coax her into some form of relaxation. Fat chance of that. It was kind of nice, though. Even if it was having the opposite effect of what Luna probably intended. Her skin felt like it was on fire, the heat of Luna's palm setting her ablaze, and yet she couldn't suppress a shiver.

She was definitely sick.

"You'll never be at peace with the rest of the world if you can't first find a way to be at peace with yourself."

Raven looked away. "Yeah, well, peace is overrated."

Luna smiled to herself a little at that, as if remembering something amusing, and Raven frowned, not exactly enjoying being left out of the joke.

Nonetheless, she allowed her body to sink back down onto the hard mattress, unable to fight the exhaustion any longer.

God, she hated her body.

It was always fucking things up for her.

Raven knew she could do more, push herself harder - but her body always brought her to a screeching halt, snapping like a rubber band whenever she stretched too far.

It was then she noticed the tubing attached to Luna's arm, gaze following the line up to a bag that was already half full of nightblood. Right, they'd started taking more of that today. In fact, she was pretty sure that was what Luna was supposed to be doing instead of babysitting her for however many hours.

She actually looked kind of pale, come to think of it.

Donating blood had been mandatory on the Ark for everyone whose health allowed it. But they'd had to space out donations by three months. At least.

That hadn't been an option with Luna.

Raven started. "Hey, you shouldn't be standing up for that."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

But Raven was already inching back, creating some space on the edge of the mattress. "Seriously, sit down. You look like you're about to keel over." She couldn't believe Abby had put Luna in charge of babysitting her when she should have been resting herself.

Luna looked very much like she wanted to roll her eyes but complied nonetheless, slumping down onto the bed like a belligerent teenager. "Happy?"

Raven smirked. "Ecstatic."

So she wasn't the only one who sucked at playing patient and she'd be lying if that newfound knowledge didn't make her a little smug.

The bed was just a single - so there wasn't much space for them to share - and not exactly comfortable or meant for long-term use, either. Everyone else slept at the mansion, including Luna, and Raven had nabbed a bed for herself there as well but she hadn't used it since the first night. She'd been spending all twenty-four of her hours in the lab, working overtime. This room was one she'd commandeered for those brief periods when she actually allowed herself to get some sleep - on Abby's orders.

Luna backed herself into the wall, crossing her legs as she tried to take up as little space as possible. Raven thought about offering her the option to lie down - they'd probably fit better that way - but couldn't get the words out. She was impulsive, but that was a step too far even for her. And she doubted she'd be getting any rest with Luna's body nestled firmly against hers.

It wasn't that Raven was interested in her, but she also wasn't blind. Luna was gorgeous. And it had been a long, long time since Raven had gotten laid - and considering sex used to be her go-to method for relieving tension or expelling shitty feelings, she didn't like her chances of being able to resist her. Not that Luna was interested in her. She'd probably run a mile if Raven tried to jump her here and now.

And it wasn't like either of them were in the best physical state for sex, anyway. It was almost guaranteed that at least one of them would pass out during the attempt. And Raven had already had her fill of humiliating moments for the day.

A low murmur reached her ears and when she refocused her attention on Luna, Raven realized that she had closed her eyes and was mumbling that chant from earlier under her breath.

She didn't appear very relaxed, though. Quite the opposite. Her entire body looked rigid as all hell.

Something was clearly bothering her. Well, something besides the obvious end-of-the-world state of affairs.

"What does that mean, anyway?"

Luna didn't open her eyes. "What does what mean?"

"The words. The ones you said earlier, they were the same as the ones you're using now, right?"

She wasn't well versed in Trigedasleng - or any kind of versed, actually - but she felt confident of that.

Luna nodded, exhaling. "It's just a mantra. It belongs to my clan." Her gaze lowered a half-second later. "Belonged to them."

Yeah, no, Raven wasn't going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. Not right now. She didn't trust that she was coherent enough not to put her foot in her mouth if she tried to offer comfort.

Comforting people wasn't her thing. Never had been.

She was more of a 'get yourself together and get over it' kind of person, especially when it came to her own shit.

Which was why coming to terms with her pain was proving to be such an obstacle. Because Raven couldn't get over it. Couldn't push forward - the pain would only follow. It was there, in every moment, every breath, and she couldn't escape it.

Couldn't move past it.

All she could do was grit her teeth and pretend like hell it didn't exist.

"But what does it mean?"

An eye cracked open and Raven could see the first traces of irritation there. Huh, she'd finally figured out a way to break through that infuriating - and enviable - level of calm and patience: just disturb the woman when she was trying to meditate.

Then something flickered across Luna's face - something dangerous - and her eyes narrowed, her mouth curving slightly. "I'll tell you. If you allow me to teach you how to meditate."

Raven turned away. "Yeah, no thanks, I'm good."

She was curious but not that curious.

Luna shrugged, closing her eyes once more. "Okay."

The chanting started again, stretching the quiet of the room, itching at Raven's ears - and nerves. She closed her own eyes, tried to block it out. Minutes ticked by, Luna's voice swimming around her, low and vaguely husky. And suddenly, irritation was the least of Raven's concerns. She rubbed her legs together, groaned, and rolled back over, giving up on the impossible task. "Fine."

This woman was infuriating.

Luna smirked but didn't open her eyes. "Is that a 'yes'?"

"It's a 'fine, you win'. Asshole." She muttered the last part under her breath but judging by the amused twitch of Luna's mouth, she caught it. "Now teach me this meditation bullcrap already."

Her eyes opened at last, the smirk fading into a triumphant smile. It was annoying.

"That is, if you even can teach me." Raven raised her chin, challenging. She might be agreeing to this, but she certainly wasn't going to make it easy on her. "I'm not exactly the zen type."

Luna shrugged, shifting closer to her. "I've had tougher students. Children especially are particularly opposed to staying still for any length of time."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you comparing me to a child?"

"I would never." That smirk peeked through again. "Children are far less exasperating."

Oh, so she was the exasperating one?

Raven chuckled, though. She could appreciate Luna's snark, even if it was at her expense. It had actually proved to be a pretty good distraction from all the other bullshit going on in her life. "Alright, meditate me up."

Luna held out her hands towards her, palms up. "May I?"

She hesitated but allowed her own to settle on top of them. "Uh, yeah, sure."

This better not get kinky.

"It's just to help you stay grounded. We can stop if it proves to have the opposite effect, though."

Oh, it was most definitely proving to have the opposite effect. Raven's skin tingled, her heart beginning a rampant race in her chest. How the fuck could she be so affected by such a simple touch? She really needed to get laid. Obviously. But there weren't really any suitable candidates around. She certainly wasn't going to fuck Murphy. Maybe Emori would be up for it? That would also have the added benefit of pissing Murphy off.

She might end up asking just for kicks.

"It helps if you breathe," Luna said with a slight tilt to her lips, an amused furrow to her brow as she watched Raven, though there was also some confusion there. Clearly, she'd noticed some of her internal struggle.

Crap.

"Let's just get this over with."

"Well, that's not exactly the right attitude to have when approaching meditation but. . ." Luna sighed. "I'll allow it."

Raven groaned, head rolling back.

"Patience," she chuckled.

"That's your thing, not mine."

"Then it's time to learn." Luna squeezed her hands. "Now focus. Bring your attention down to our hands." Oh, fuck no. "Can you feel them?" Oh yeah, she could feel them. "Focus on the pressure of my grip, the texture of my skin, the way it feels against yours, the differences in temperature."

What. The. Fuck.

She flushed, suddenly all too aware of those very things.

Luna frowned. "You're getting tenser."

Well, yeah, of course she was getting fucking tenser. This woman was unbelievable. "I think maybe the hand thing might be a bad idea."

Instantly, Luna released her. "I'm sorry. That's how Derrick taught me." Raven's heart sank as she felt the loss of her pulling away, instantly regretting her words. "It just. . . it helps to have something you can feel, something to focus on. At least to begin with. But it's not right for everyone."

Raven hesitated before holding out her hands. "No, um. . . let's give it one more try. Maybe if you told me those words it might help?" She didn't really believe that, but her skin felt cold in the areas Luna's had once been.

Too cold.

Luna hesitated but took her hands again. "It's alright if this part isn't right for you, Raven. Not everyone is comfortable with touch. And even for those who are, it can sometimes be overwhelming."

Oh, she understood that. Boy, did she understand it. But that wasn't why she'd wanted to escape Luna's hold. She hadn't felt uncomfortable. Far from it. And that was. . . a dangerous thing to give life to. What if she got used to it? What if she came to need it? The way she'd once needed Finn's?

"No, it's . . . it's okay." It really wasn't. "Just hit me with those words already."

Luna still looked conflicted but, after a moment, nodded. She rubbed her thumb over the outside of Raven's hand - an attempt at comfort, she guessed.

It made her shudder.

"They're meaningful to me. But they may not hold the same meaning to you. You might even want to come up with your own," Luna warned and Raven wondered why she'd suddenly become the reluctant one in this whole experiment? It had been her idea.

But Luna's hands were slightly tenser than before and she wondered if her earlier reaction had worried her, made her think that she was doing more harm than good.

She had never seen Luna nervous until now, apprehensive. It didn't suit her.

Something wasn't right.

She wanted to help, that much was clear.

Was maybe scared of doing the exact opposite?

Raven smiled at her, tried to put as much reassurance in it as she could manage. She may not be totally on board with the whole meditating thing, but it was distracting her. And she appreciated the effort Luna was making. She appreciated that she cared.

Not many people did.

"No, I actually liked that bit. I mean, I may not have understood the words but they were. . . I don't know, soothing." Mostly because Luna had been the one saying them. Her voice had a weight and texture to it that was comforting.

Luna smiled and she couldn't deny how quickly the sight of it made her muscles relax. "Good. Are you ready?"

Raven cleared her throat. "As I'll ever be."

She closed her eyes and tried not to notice how right Luna's hands felt in hers. How the thought of them ever leaving somehow filled her with dread.

She needed to get out of this lab.

Chapter Text

Eventually, Raven had gotten fed up with her little foray into the wonders of meditation and disengaged her hands from Luna's - a tad more reluctantly than she would have liked. Retreating to the other end of the bed, she picked up her tablet to run through the details of her 'controlled crash' plan once more. No matter how many times she went over it, though, the truth remained the same: there was no way to pull it off without that missing barrel.

She'd expected Luna to leave but instead she settled back against the wall, closed her eyes and continued to meditate on her own. Raven suspected it was probably more peaceful without her constant interruptions and snark.

It must have been. Because when she looked up about twenty minutes later, it was to find that Luna had completely slumped into the wall, her features slack.

"Luna?"

No response and the steady rise and fall of her chest was telling.

She was asleep.

Horribly awkward position to be asleep in. Raven grimaced. Her body would probably hurt like hell for it tomorrow. She was all too familiar with what that was like.

Her gaze returned to the screen before darting back to Luna a moment later.

Ah, hell.

Hesitantly, Raven shifted along the bed towards her, wincing as the motion pulled at her hip. Her eyes were drawn to the needle still sticking out of Luna's arm, noting that the bag was pretty much full by now.

By Raven's estimation, she'd donated more than enough for one day - considering she'd been doing this every day.

Removing it would probably wake her, though, not to mention that Raven didn't know how to remove it. Not correctly. She should probably get Abby for that.

All in good time.

First, she needed to make Luna at least a little more comfortable because that angle was ouch. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched her shoulders, preparing for her to spring back into consciousness - and possibly knock Raven out in the process (she'd done that to Wick once, a memory that proved slightly less horrifying after their disastrous breakup).

Nothing happened.

Okay, so far so good.

Slowly, she maneuvered Luna onto her side, careful of the tubing attached to her, mindful to ensure that the arm with the needle in it remained on top. This went at a relative snail pace but soon enough, she had Luna lying on the bed and looking, in her opinion, much more comfortable.

Score one-hundred-and-ten for the first Zero-G Mechanic with a heart defect!

How she hadn't woken up during the process was a mystery to Raven, though.

She had a feeling Luna was normally a light sleeper, that life had probably trained her to be. Which suggested that she was a lot more tired than she'd let on. Maybe Raven wasn't the only one who'd been dealing with insomnia as of late.

But that wasn't her problem.

Luna could handle her own shit, just like everyone else. She didn't need Raven to hold her hand.

Even if they were really nice hands.

This close, she was struck by that same earthy smell from earlier, only now she thought she could detect a tang of mint. Raven hadn't decided yet if she liked it or not, only that it was unfamiliar - and kind of irritating since she couldn't place it for the life of her.

Sighing, she brushed some stray curls off Luna's mouth and nose - the last thing they needed was for her to choke in her sleep. This had the slight downside - or upside, depending on how you wanted to look at it - of fully revealing Luna's face to her and. . .

Well, it would be a lie to say she wasn't pretty.

Beautiful, actually.

Possibly the most beautiful person Raven had ever seen.

Barring herself, of course - she wasn't about to give up that title without a fight.

But what caught her attention the most was how peaceful she looked. 'Peaceful' was a descriptor that could be applied to Luna often but, for as long as Raven had known her, there had always been an element of strain about it. Like she was trying a little too hard to hold onto something that had already been lost.

These weren't peaceful days they were living, and Luna hadn't been spared the consequences of that.

But right now she actually looked at peace. Real peace.

The kind, Raven supposed, that only sleep could grant. There was none of it to be found in the waking hours. Not of late.

Raven hoped she was having good dreams. One of them should be.

"Good, Raven, you're up. How are you feeling?"

Startled, she tore her gaze away from Luna to see Abby entering the room. The doctor was staring at the tablet in her hands and probably hadn't taken more than a fleeting glance of the room and its occupants.

Raven wondered whether she'd managed to get any sleep herself.

Which drew her attention back to Luna. Who was, thankfully, still blissfully unaware of her surroundings.

Damn. You really must be tired.

"Shh," Raven hissed, perhaps a little too harshly from the way Abby flinched before looking up. "She's only just gotten to sleep."

Raven was sure to keep her voice low, barely above a whisper, but even that felt too loud.

She couldn't explain but right now nothing mattered to her more than making sure that Luna's sleep remained undisturbed. Raven knew how much it hurt to leave the land of sweet oblivion and wake up in a nightmare. She wanted to Luna as much time as possible before she was forced through that same, violent transition.

It was the least Raven owed her after what she'd done for her today.

Abby frowned a moment in confusion before her gaze finally landed on the sleeping woman and understanding dawned, along with a faint trace of amusement. "She was supposed to be watching you sleep, not the other way around."

Raven rolled her eyes. "That's kind of creepy but okay. And she did her job, don't worry, she made sure I was fine before passing out."

Better than fine. She'd taken a keen interest in ensuring that Raven's mental state was as well as her physical - which wasn't all that hard, considering her physical sucked - hence the meditation.

As irritating as it was, she kind of admired Luna's tenacity.

She was stubborn.

Raven liked that.

Even if she'd prefer it wasn't directed at her.

Abby smiled briefly before her eyes traveled to the blood bag. "I wasn't worried about that. She seemed very keen to be your bodyguard, and quite concerned about your wellbeing. I think she likes you."

It was meant to be only a passing tease - and Abby certainly hadn't meant it in the way Raven was taking it - but she couldn't help the flush that rose up her neck. "She likes everyone."

Raven wasn't sure if that was true, but she liked Murphy of all people so that made her doubt there was anyone on the planet who could earn her dislike if he couldn't.

Abby hummed with a small secretive smile that ate away at her nerves before coming over, eyes scanning Luna and stopping once more on the blood bag. "I need to take this out."

She at least sounded a little regretful about it.

Raven sighed. "She only just got to sleep."

"I know. But I need to do it." She sent Raven a small reassuring smile that didn't quite reach her eyes - none of her smiles did these days. "I'll be as gentle as possible and try not to wake her."

Well, it wasn't like it was Raven's decision to make. Reluctantly, she shifted back down the bed so Abby could have greater access to Luna, watching closely as she went through the motions of clamping the tubing and removing the bag.

The needle she kept till last.

Raven held her breath as she first undid the tourniquet from Luna's arm before her fingers found the needle. Luna winced slightly as she pulled it out and Raven bit her lip.

Nothing happened for a breath.

Then Luna's snapped open.

Raven had a split second to register the alarm there before she sprang back, away from Abby. Except, cornered on the bed with her back against the wall, there wasn't anywhere to go.

Thunk.

Raven winced at the sound of Luna's head hitting the hard surface. That was going to leave a mark.

It would be just their luck if they ended up giving the only nightblood left in existence brain damage.

Especially when they'd already done that to the last nightblood they'd encountered.

Then there was everything that had happened with Lexa. From what she'd heard, the Commander's death had more than a little bit to do with the massacre committed by Raven's own people.

Huh. Maybe it was a good thing there weren't any other nightbloods left for them to take a swing at.

Wisely, Abby had taken several steps back the moment Luna moved, holding her hands up in the universal sign of surrender or peace.

Wide-eyed and breathing heavily, she wasn't sure Luna had the presence of mind to understand the gesture.

So maybe taking the needle out without waking her first had been a bad idea.

Terrible, actually.

They'd been trying to be kind but, well. . .

This was a horrible way to wake up.

"Luna? It's cool, it's just us."

She whipped her head around at the sound of Raven's voice, eyes still too wide but starting to show some level of clarity. That clarity grew as she focused on Raven, the sharp rise and fall of her chest starting to slow as the seconds ticked by.

"You okay?" Raven asked after about a minute had passed. She was trying not to look at the thin trail of black now oozing down Luna's arm. They could deal with that after she'd calmed down.

A moment later, Luna nodded, seemingly still not ready for words.

"Luna?"

Her head turned so fast when Abby spoke that Raven swore she heard something crack.

"I need to look at your arm. You're bleeding and I need to make sure that the needle didn't do any damage to the vein when I was taking it out and you, well. . ."

Yeah, they really should have woken Luna up first.

Welp, Raven had learnt her lesson. No taking needles out of sleeping natblida's arms. Didn't end well.

The lack of comprehension was obvious in Luna's gaze and she suspected her brain was still thick with sleep - and terror. Hesitantly, Raven shuffled closer and reached out to touch her hand. "Luna?"

She flinched but stilled under her touch a moment later, head turning and taking Raven in.

"You're bleeding." She nodded at her arm. "Abby needs to take a look."

Luna closed her eyes and took a breath, collecting herself. After a moment, she nodded and opened them again, turning back to Abby in invitation.

The doctor smiled at her and approached with some gauze and alcohol swabs. "Sorry for the rude awakening."

"It's fine." Her voice cracked slightly, though, and Raven suspected it wasn't.

In that brief moment before awareness had found Luna, she'd looked scared.

The guilt swirled in Raven's gut but she stubbornly pushed it aside. Not now. She didn't have time to feel guilty. About anything.

If she started, she'd never stop.

Silence enveloped the room for a time as both Luna and Raven watched Abby's movements with avid attention.

"It looks fine," she declared after cleaning the blood off Luna's arm and reaching for the gauze and cotton wool pad to seal it up. "No damage that I can see. And the bleeding's not too severe. It should stop soon as long as you keep pressure on it."

"It's fine," Luna repeated, obediently placing a hand over the cotton wool to apply pressure. "I've had far worse."

Yeah, that really wasn't as comforting as she might think.

Luna's gaze wandered to Raven and she smiled slightly, though it was weaker than usual. "Sorry for falling asleep on you. And stealing your bed."

She waved that away. "It was fine. Your snores were amusing, anyway." That was a lie. Luna didn't snore. In fact, it was almost creepy how quiet she was.

Luna's eyes narrowed slightly as if she'd detected the lie, amusement shimmering a moment there, but she said nothing. "Mm."

"Well, I think we should all try to get some more sleep," Abby said, packing up her things before looking up at the clock on the wall. "We still have, oh, an hour and a half before morning. More than enough time."

Raven groaned and collapsed back on the bed. "I've had all the sleep I can handle." Her hip was aching something fierce so she knew shutting her eyes and getting some Zzzs was no longer an option.

Luna's gaze was knowing. "You haven't slept at all. You were unconscious."

She waved the comment away. "Same thing."

Abby sighed, though there was some amusement in her eyes. "As a doctor, I can tell you it's most definitely not."

Luna and Raven shared a smile.

"Tell Luna meditation doesn't count as sleep, either."

Luna rolled her eyes and Raven resisted the urge to poke her tongue out. Considering she'd seen Luna meditating far more than she'd seen her sleeping in the weeks she'd known her, she felt it was something that needed to be said.

Abby heaved a long-suffering sigh. "No-one told me trying to save the world was mostly going to consist of babysitting you two."

Luna looked mildly offended. "I've been on my best behavior."

Uh-huh. She'd damn near stolen their only boat and left them to the mercy of murderous drones.

"What's you on your worst behavior then?" Raven teased.

She smiled secretly. "Pray you don't find out."

Well, that wasn't threatening at all.

Abby, finally having finished packing up her things, sent them both a warning look. "Please try and get some sleep. Both of you."

Raven saluted her whilst Luna blinked placidly. Sighing, Abby gave up and left.

"I have to ask," Luna started, moments after she was gone. "There's been a lot of talk of sitting on babies today. Why?"

Raven opened her mouth to explain but was distracted by the darkening stain expanding across the gauze on Luna's arm. Was it bleeding more than normal or was that her guilt talking? "I really am sorry about that."

Luna looked to her in confusion and Raven nodded down at her arm. Understanding dawned and Luna's hand shifted slightly to conceal it from her gaze, offering her a small smile.

"And it really is okay. Honestly, Raven. You were trying to do me a kindness. I know that."

That didn't erase the look of fear she'd seen on Luna's face, though. It still screamed in her memory, cutting a blaze across her nerves. She decided then and there that she never wanted to see that look again.

They spent the next few minutes in silence and, with the pain in her hip rising by the second, it was too much silence for Raven to tolerate. She needed the distraction of conversation, any conversation.

"So. . . I take it you've been having trouble sleeping?" Luna looked at her in surprise. "It's just, most people aren't as dead to the world as you were unless they're really, really tired."

Luna hesitated. "I don't do well in unfamiliar environments, surrounded by unfamiliar people."

"I get that." And she did. Hell, she could remember how hard those first few weeks on the ground had been in the delinquent's camp. The only person she'd really known was Finn, and he'd betrayed her. Add to that, there were a bunch of strange - and murderous - inhabitants hiding in the trees, thirsting for their blood, and well. . .

It was hard to feel safe in the middle of all that.

Luna chewed on her bottom lip, seeming to debate whether or not to say her next words. "I feel safer in here with you. I think that's why I fell asleep. I just. . . I know you better than the others."

You know me better than I'd like, Raven thought grimly.

She inwardly cursed herself for the way her heart picked up at Luna's words, though, like she was a teenager with a crush. Well, okay, technically she was still kind of a teenager - but she didn't have a crush!

"Well, feel free to crash here anytime." What, Raven, no what are you doing?! You'll never be able to sleep again!  "I mean, I'm barely in here anyway so. . ."

Luna's eyes glimmered with faint amusement. "I think you not being in here would kind of defeat the purpose."

Because it was Raven and not the room that made her feel safe. Right. Well, shit.

Raven wasn't sure she'd ever made anyone feel safe.

What the fuck did she say to that? "Uh. . ."

What the hell, Reyes? Use your words!

Luna chuckled. "I take it asking you to sleep more often is a losing battle?"

"Yep." She popped the last syllable, skillfully avoiding Luna's eyes as she retrieved her tablet. "But, um, I'm gonna be in here for a couple more hours still tonight - or well, this morning - if you want to catch a few more Zzzs, I mean." It wasn't like there was anything more for her to do out in the lab. She could try and brainstorm a solution to the missing barrel from her bed just fine.

And, well, her body still felt a little like death warmed over and Raven knew enough of her limits to understand that she'd already pushed far beyond them today.

Best to take a bit of a breather.

As much as she hated to admit it.

"'Zzzs'?"

The pronounced look of confusion on Luna's face was kind of adorable and she snorted. "Sleep. You can stay and try to get a little more sleep. If you want."

The smile on Luna's face was small, but too grateful for her to be comfortable with.

Raven looked away.

"Not going to try and convince me to go to sleep too?" she muttered after the silence had once again grown too thick. Most of the time, she liked how Luna could be quiet, didn't feel the need to fill the empty spaces in conversation with meaningless chatter.

Now, not so much.

"No. The fact that you're here and not out there means that if you could go to sleep, you would." Luna's face had far too much understanding on it - Raven shifted uncomfortably. "Pain?"

She said it all so simply, like she wasn't ripping her open and exposing her guts to the world with every word.

Raven said nothing.

"I remember when I nicked one of the nerves in my leg during training. I couldn't get a full night's sleep for weeks, some nights I couldn't sleep at all. I imagine living with that every day would be even harder. And I'm sure that seizure didn't help your pain levels either. So, no, I'm not going to try to convince you to go to sleep."

Raven stared at her a moment, hoping the shock didn't show too clearly on her face. She searched for something, anything to say.

It was too much.

Luna was too much.

Say something.

"Why the sea?"

Okay, a little off topic but better than nothing.

Luna blinked at the nonsequitur. "What?"

During their little meditation session, she'd let Raven in on what those weird but beautiful words she'd whispered in her ear actually meant. It really shouldn't have surprised her that they related to the ocean but, well.

Luna narrowed her eyes in question.

Raven shrugged. "I mean, it clearly holds some significance for you. Is it just because you lived on it or. . ." To be honest, Raven couldn't really see the appeal. Mostly because her bad leg meant she was more likely to drown than swim. Not that she even knew how to swim in the first place. There'd been no pools on the Ark. Her leg was just an added difficulty.

"That's partly the reason."

"And the other part?"

Luna hesitated, looking uncertain, which made her frown. She'd thought it would be an easy question to answer. A safe one. Raven hadn't thought it might be a touchy area or too intimate. That was the reason she'd asked it in the first place.

Clearly, she'd been wrong.

Eventually, Luna smiled, though there was something heavier to it than she was used to. "Maybe I'll tell you someday." The smile turned sly. "Maybe as a reward for you actually going to bed at night."

Raven waved that away. "Sleep is for suckers."

She rolled her eyes. "It's also necessary for survival."

Touché.

Raven couldn't exactly argue with that. Still didn't mean she was going to act on the advice, though. She narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying that if I go to sleep, you'll tell me all your deep dark secrets in exchange?"

"Whew," Luna blew out a breath, stretching out her arms as she raised her eyes towards the ceiling. The playful grin that overtook her face next made Raven's heart skip a beat. "I'm not sure we have that kind of time."

She raised an eyebrow. "Got a lot, huh?"

Luna nodded with mock gravity. "Oh, so very, very many. I think you would probably grow tired of me before we even got through half of them."

Raven snorted. "Yeah, I don't think it's possible to get tired of you."

Luna's face lit up, a surprised smile drawing tentatively at her lips.

Raven blushed. "I just mean that- Murphy is super annoying, and a douchebag, and impossible to share the same space with for any length of time and you're very much not. . . that," she trailed off, wincing slightly.

Perfect recovery, Reyes.

Luna nodded seriously, though she could detect some amusement still shining through. "Well, thankyou, Raven. I am very happy that I am considered more. . . tolerable than Murphy?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up. I know you like him."

Luna shrugged. "I don't know him well enough to feel one way or the other about him." She paused. "But I. . . empathize with him."

"You don't even know half the shit he's done."

"No," she allowed. "But I know everything that I've done. Like I said before, I'm in no position to judge anyone." She paused. "I know he hurt you. Badly. And that you hate him for it, just as he hates himself."

Raven looked away. "I suppose you think I should forgive him?"

Luna furrowed her brow, shaking her head. "No. You don't owe forgiveness to anyone. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, not the person who hurt you." She craned her head, catching Raven's gaze with her own. "I've forgiven the people who hurt me, because I couldn't hold onto that anger and still hold onto myself. But no one path is right for everyone. If one day you forgive John, it will be because you need to. Not because he needs you to." Luna smiled at her. "And if you never forgive him, that's okay, too."

Raven sighed, shoulders slumping. "Every time I see him I just. . ." She looked down at her lap. "I'm stuck with not having the full use of this leg for the rest of my life. And maybe I could handle that." She shrugged. "But this pain. . . that's something I'm still working out how to handle. Maybe I never will." She bit her lip. She hated to admit it, hated confessing that doubt, that vulnerability; how weak it revealed her to be. "And it's his fault."

Luna's hands found hers, brought them to cradle in her lap. "It is hard to forgive when the hurt still exists. And no-one can blame you for still being angry." She began massaging her hands in a practiced rhythm. It was very distracting. "That doesn't make you weak." Raven flinched, wondering when she'd become so see-through. "Nor does struggling to manage your suffering. For most people, physical pain is temporary. Sooner or later, relief comes. But as you said, that will probably never be the case for you."

She swallowed, staring at their hands.

Luna didn't mind her silence, continued. "That's a hard thing for anyone to come to grips with. And it's something you must learn to accept, over and over again, every day. And yet you continue to fight. For yourself. For others. You haven't given up." She paused in her motions, giving Raven's hands a tight squeeze. "That kind of strength is rare. And nothing to dismiss. You should be proud of yourself."

Raven wasn't sure she believed that, but she could tell that Luna did. And that was. . . well, she appreciated that. And her words. "Thanks."

Luna's smile grew. "It's the truth. You don't need to thank me for giving voice to it."

Now it was Raven's turn to squeeze her hands. "Yeah. I do." She had a lot to thank her for, as a matter of fact. "So, thankyou."

That smile softened, grew warm. Her gaze drew Raven in, made her want to lean forward, to break the moment apart with an action that would be unbelievably stupid. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

But, God, she wanted to.

She wanted to thank Luna with more than just words.

Fuck, she was so screwed.

Chapter Text

She didn't understand Luna.

Thought she did but. . .

Well, the Grounder had quite steadily trampled over all her previous assumptions.

From everything Raven had been told, she'd expected someone either incredibly dangerous, or peacefully benign. But neither of those monikers fit the woman she was coming to know. They described aspects of her, sure, but they didn't capture her.

Luna was. . .

She didn't know what she was.

Only that Raven hadn't been prepared for her, not by any stretching definition.

One minute Luna was spouting off about how everyone didn't deserve to survive the coming storm and the next she was throwing all her weight behind comforting Raven - and Murphy, of all people. Helping them. Without being demanded or even asked to.

It was disorienting.

Though, perhaps it shouldn't have been.

Raven could remember how she'd felt in the wake of Finn's death. How, in the midst of red hot rage and despair, a part of her had craved to see the world burn.

It didn't deserve to exist.

Not without him.

Not after what it had done to him.

What they'd done.

(Raven included)

Humanity hadn't had very much to recommend it in that moment, and even less so when she'd felt the burn of a blade, searing through her flesh.

She'd been so angry. And disillusioned.

Still was.

Only now that was muffled under the return of rationality and other feelings.

She couldn't blame Luna for her own anger, as repressed as it was.

She'd lost everything.

And the world still wanted more from her.

They wanted more from her.

It wasn't fair.

But nothing about this was.

So, she could understand that.

Could understand Luna's anger. It was probably the most relatable thing about her, at least from Raven's corner.

But her unceasing kindness? That was harder to grasp.

All of Luna's anger and pain were smothered by layers of compassion.

Such a thing was in short supply these days, there was little room for it in a world that demanded the harshest and coldest parts of you. Even on the Ark, there'd been no space for it.

But Luna. . . Luna made space for it. Seemed determined to do so, above all else.

Once, Raven had asked Finn what made him help her in the beginning. When so many others turned away from her situation, he'd reached out a hand and taken hers. Had halved his rations - equally down the middle - and shared them with her without a second thought.

Raven hadn't been able to understand it.

And Finn had been equally unable to understand her lack of understanding.

His brow had furrowed at the question. 'Because you needed help.' It had been all the answer he contained, no matter how unsatisfying it was for Raven at the time. No matter how unsatisfying it remained to her now.

She saw that same simplicity in Luna.

That compulsion to help for no other reason than that it was needed, but unlike Finn it was coupled with a fear that any efforts she made would only bring harm instead.

Raven suspected that there was little in the universe that scared her more than that.

She'd felt the urgency with which Luna had retracted her hands from Raven's, broken all contact - the trepidation in her gaze. It was an odd thing to witness in Luna who possessed an air of unflappable confidence that bordered on irritating.

But in that moment when she'd been teaching Raven to meditate, that confidence had wavered.

She'd looked young, then - perhaps the closest to her real age that she had ever appeared.

But her fear hadn't kept her from accepting Raven's hand again.

From helping.

She thought back to the way Luna had shown her the scars and told her the story about the rabbit, like it was nothing, like Raven deserved to have that information. And no matter what Luna said to the contrary, Raven knew she'd done it to make her feel better. She hadn't needed to tell her that story, had gained nothing from doing so.

But Raven was struggling with what she'd done - as much as she'd tried to push it to the back of her mind, as much as she still believed it had been the right thing, the only logical thing to do - Raven was struggling. And that had been all the reason Luna needed to share her story.

And she couldn't understand it.

Couldn't understand why Luna cared so much.

Was it Raven that she cared about specifically or just people in general? She'd seen her go after Murphy when she'd flipped out, suspected he'd received his own brand of Luna Comfort.

So maybe Raven wasn't special.

Maybe this was just something that Luna did.

Either way, she didn't understand it.

"Something's bothering you." The murmur was soft and thick with sleep.

She startled slightly, looking over to see Luna had woken from her brief slumber, eyes lazily cracked and peering at her inquisitively.

Raven wondered how long she'd been awake for, more specifically how long she'd been staring at her.

Wondered even more why that didn't unnerve her or spark the urge to retaliate.

Instead, it made her pulse pick up in a way that wasn't altogether unpleasant.

Raven pretended she couldn't remember what instances in the past had caused her heart to be similarly unsteady.

What the reason behind it was.

Her thoughts caught up with Luna's question and she resisted the urge to huff in exasperation.

You're bothering me.

But there was no way that wouldn't come off as rude and Raven didn't intend for it to. "How'd you know to do that back there?" Okay, that was not the question she'd meant to ask. Even if it had been swirling around her head all day. "You know, when I," she grimaced, "flipped out and stuff. How'd you know that would help and you just weren't going to get a black eye instead."

It felt a little like pulling teeth. What happened - it wasn't something she wanted to talk about. Not ever.

Mostly because she was embarrassed as shit about it.

But also because it was a moment of such complete vulnerability and the knowledge that a woman Raven barely knew and a boy she hated had been witness to it was enough to make her want to throw up.

But her curiosity won out.

It was a bitch like that.

"I didn't," Luna said simply. "But when I was younger I used to lose control like that."

Raven scoffed. "Right."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't believe me?"

Raven waved the question away. "You're all calm waters and shit." It was hard to picture Luna doing anything so. . . volatile. Utterly lacking in control.

Dangerous.

"I wasn't always," Luna murmured. "It takes a long time to find what helps you. Sometimes you never do. But my friend, Derrick, he used to hold me like that. When I lost control. He had to. To keep me from hurting anyone. Hurting myself." Raven glanced up from a loose strand on her pants that she'd been picking at.

She didn't like the understanding she saw in Luna's eyes. Like she could see right through all Raven's bullshit to the fucking mess at her center, like it was as plain to her as every other part of Raven. It made her feel like she was on display. Raw and exposed.

She hated it.

Sinclair used to look at her like that sometimes. Only there'd been a distance there. For whilst Sinclair could see through her better than anyone else at the time, he couldn't actually understand what it was she was feeling. Thinking.

He couldn't relate.

No-one could.

She preferred that over the way Luna was looking at her now.

Raven returned her gaze to the thread.

"The words I got you to say, though. The mantra. That's my own creation. I didn't know for certain it would work for you. But I've used it to help others in my clan, especially the children. They struggled the most with controlling their emotions, processing them. A lot of them had seen so much horror, they couldn't. . ."

She risked another glance up when Luna trailed off, somewhat relieved to find her gaze otherwise occupied, focused on the wall to her right.

Raven wasn't sure if she liked being compared to a child but considering Luna had preceded it by saying she'd also been in need of the technique or whatever it was herself, she supposed she could let it slide. Raven didn't think she'd meant anything by it or been looking to insult.

Besides, it would be insensitive as hell to be a dick about it when all those children were now dead.

Everyone in Luna's life was.

That was a sobering thought.

After a moment, she cleared her throat and returned her attention to Raven. "Peace is hard. Just because you've stopped fighting, doesn't mean your heart has. Wars live on in us long after the last sword has been put down." She shrugged. "Perhaps that's why we keep going back to them. It's easier. And it's what we know."

"Maybe." Raven shrugged, leaning back against the wall.

She'd never really thought about it before. Why people did the things they did. Why wars started. She was usually too busy dealing with the fallout. Just trying to survive. To make it through. Save everyone.

People did fucked up things and she was used to it.

"We didn't have wars in space," Raven mused. "Well, I mean. Not since the beginning, way before I was born. After Unification Day it was all peace and smooth sailing. Mostly." If you weren't one of the unlucky ones chosen to be floated for a minor infraction.

Luna's brow furrowed and Raven suspected that she'd said something actually capable of shocking her. "You didn't have any wars?"

She shook her head. "We were too busy trying to survive. It would have been counterproductive."

Luna stared a moment longer. "Here, we have wars for our survival. Or, that's what they all say. I just don't think we know any other way of living at this point. Lexa forming the Coalition was the closest we ever came to peace."

That didn't quite track. "What about your clan?"

"Floukru was a sanctuary. It existed outside the rest of the world, apart from it. Because I knew I'd never be able to create such peace inside it. Not real peace."

The expression of shock still hadn't quite left Luna's features and she wondered what it must be like: to be so familiar with war that you couldn't imagine a world without it.

Something told her she was getting close to finding out.

They all were.

"I think I would have liked space," Luna murmured a moment later, gaze elsewhere.

Raven snorted. "Oh no, you'd have hated it." At Luna's raised brow, "I have a feeling you would not have adapted well to all the rules up there. Steal some food? Death. Have more than one kid? Death. We really didn't know a middle ground when it came to punishment."

Her mouth parted. "You executed people for having more than one child?"

"Well, when you say it like that...yeah no, whatever way you say it it's pretty fucked up." Raven shrugged. "Resources were scarce up there. The fewer mouths to feed, the less people to use up the oxygen, the better. Our survival depended on us not overpopulating."

It was so normal to her that seeing Luna's disbelief was the first time she got a sense of how truly fucked up it was. Like, she knew. She'd always known.

But she'd also accepted it as a part of life.

The way things were.

The way they had to be.

That justification felt hollow to her now. Maybe it had been necessary. Raven didn't know. Couldn't know. But it was still fucked up.

"I'm sorry. That sounds. . ." Luna shook her head, "harsh."

She withheld a snort. "That's one word for it."

Luna still seemed somewhat mystified. "My people encourage reproduction." Her face twisted a moment before the expression fled Raven's scrutiny. "It means more warriors. More people to defend territory. To fight. And protect. And with war and The Mountain a constant threat, our numbers were always depleted. But there's no value placed on life. We're born to fight. And die. Not to live. Our individual worth doesn't exist."

She grimaced. "I guess both our people cared too much about numbers, just at opposite ends of the spectrum."

Luna hummed in agreement. "Survival is a cruel master."

She wasn't wrong. Raven still bore the pain of Mount Weather's own devotion to such a master. "It's human instinct to want to survive. That doesn't necessarily make it bad. If we didn't want to survive, then life would have no value."

Luna shook her head. "I've seen children slaughtered on mass for such an instinct. Families torn apart, ruined. It's the worst one to exist. It has no care for morality. For right or wrong." She looked down. "For love. I think we would all be better off without it."

"Maybe." Raven could see how one could come to that way of thinking, might even stray into it from time to time herself. "Or we'd all be dead."

At the end of the day, that need to survive was the only reason she was still here. The only thing that had kept her from giving up.

She was a fighter.

And until this nifty little code had started killing off her neurons, she'd been fighting for her survival.

For the survival of those she cared about.

Now she was just trying to make it so that she wouldn't have to watch everyone else die.

Luna shrugged. "Perhaps that's what 'better off' looks like."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Little extreme."

"Just honest." Yeah. She was always honest.

It was somewhat of an adjustment, getting used to that level of forwardness. Raven still wasn't sure if she liked it or not. Mostly because it had the tendency to throw her off balance.

She had a feeling that she could ask Luna anything and expect to receive the truth.

That wasn't to say that everyone else lied, but most people had enough sense of self-preservation - and social awareness - to at least deflect from questions that were a little too close to home or made a person uncomfortable.

Some things you just didn't share.

Or, if you did, there was a build-up. A slow layering of trust - or, alternatively, a sudden explosion, when inner feelings became too much to keep a lid on any longer.

There was no build-up with Luna. Or sudden unveiling.

The answers came easily, almost without thought.

But Raven suspected that wasn't true, either. Luna was too careful in everything she did to ever act without thought.

She remembered the sensation of smooth scars under her fingertips, aged over, as close as they would ever come to fading.

It had been far too intimate a moment for two people who were little more than strangers.

But Luna had given it to her anyway. Without asking for any of Raven's scars in return, or seeming to expect that she would offer them.

Luna didn't ask questions.

She waited for you to speak and listened to everything you had to say, felt around the empty spaces of what you didn't say.

But she didn't ask questions.

And she saw far too much.

Raven had only known her close to two weeks - most of that from a distance - but it was enough time to notice this ability.

And to be made uneasy by it.

She wondered how much Luna knew about her that she hadn't decided to share. How much she had pieced together just by watching, and listening. How many of Raven's walls were translucent under her gaze?

She turned away from Luna's penetrating eyes, cleared her throat. "You should try and get some more sleep. I'm going to head back to the lab for a bit."

Luna frowned, as if disappointed, but didn't protest. "Alright. Don't push yourself too hard, though. Your body still needs rest."

Her body always needed rest.

She was growing less and less inclined to give it any.

But Luna's eyes were wide with concern, and it was so fucking genuine that Raven could only nod, mutter something that might have been a promise to do exactly that, before stumbling out of the room.

She needed space.

Lots and lots of space.

Chapter Text

"The thing with heat is, no matter how cold you are, no matter how much you need warmth, it always, eventually, becomes too much."

― Victoria Aveyard, Glass Sword

Raven groaned as she winced her way into consciousness. The light of Becca's lab was way too fucking bright to be tolerable. What had the woman been thinking?

She rubbed at her forehead, blinking as she glanced around her, trying to get her bearings. She'd migrated to the lab after her room had grown increasingly claustrophobic; her awareness of Luna's presence, of her gaze, at an uncomfortable level.

Plus, the room had begun to fill up with that minty earth smell that Raven couldn't place and it was starting to get to her. She hated not knowing things.

Hated having yet another problem that she couldn't solve.

She'd needed space. And lots of it.

Raven hadn't meant to fall asleep, despite what she'd promised Luna about getting rest. Hadn't expected for a second that she even could sleep. But here she was, bent over the table, her cheek tingling from where it had been smushed uncomfortably against a tablet. Squinting her eyes, she thought she detected a little drool on the screen.

Very attractive.

Thank god, Murphy isn't here to witness this.

It was then Raven noticed the extra weight on her shoulders and looked down, frowning as she took in the ocean-colored jacket that belonged to someone very definitely not her.

Bewildered, she glanced around, eyes narrowing on a certain Grounder, seated a couple of meters away on the floor.

Luna's eyes were closed and her mouth was moving with soundless words, chest rising and falling easily.

Coupled with Raven's rising irritation there was also a pleasant tingle climbing up her spine at finding Luna there, with her, close-

Fuck that.

Raven rose to her feet, yanking off the jacket - which, before now, she'd assumed to be some kind of dress - and marched towards her. If Luna heard her, she gave no indication and Raven huffed, launching the hand with the jacket in it out in front of her.

"What's this?"

Luna's eyes finally opened, but she barely spared the offending object a glance before closing them again. "A jacket."

"I know it's a jacket. But what the hell was it doing on me?"

Her eyes remained shut. "You looked cold."

Raven huffed, annoyed at how Luna was mostly ignoring her and seemed largely unperturbed by her presence - which stood in stark contrast to how deeply perturbed Raven was by hers. "I wasn't."

"Okay."

She hated people coddling her. She got enough of that from Abby, like hell she was going to take it from Luna, too.

"I wasn't cold."

"And I said 'okay'."

She groaned. "Luna."

"Yes, Raven?"

This woman.

The obscene lighting of the room should have made Luna look pale and sickly - Raven had seen her own visage in one of the windows here enough times to feel confident of that - but instead she appeared almost ethereal, her skin near glowing under the assault of the light. Wasn't she supposed to be recovering from radiation sickness and blood loss?

Fucking supernatural if you asked her.

Infuriating, really.

Like who gave Luna the right to look so goddamn beautiful all the time?

The absence of the usual dress-jacket-abomination-thing also presented another problem, highlighted by the angle Raven had been gifted by towering over her.

That thin singlet didn't cover Luna's cleavage nearly as well as the jacket did.

Not that she was looking.

Nope. Not her.

Never.

Nope.

Fuck.

If she didn't know Luna better, she would have thought she was doing this on purpose. That she had clocked Raven's ever-frustrated libido and decided to torture her.

But she doubted it. Something told her that attraction of any kind - even from someone else - was the last thing on Luna's mind.

Understandably.

But not Raven's.

Which. . . wasn't entirely unexpected. When she got angry or stressed - or just plain frustrated - she had sex. You know, if it was an option. It wasn't always. But it tended to get the job done, even if it didn't leave her feeling particularly good about herself afterwords - mostly because it was then Raven actually took the time to think about the many potential complications she had just introduced into her life. The sex itself was okay but the last thing she needed was someone else catching feelings for her or coming to expect more than she could give - more than she wanted to give.

Anyway, that wasn't going to be a problem here. Whatever troublesome feelings of attraction she may or may not have for Luna, Raven knew she didn't share them.

Why the fuck would she?

Raven was hot, yeah, and a genius. So, she had those two things going for her. But they were superficial traits that she doubted would hold much pull for someone like Luna.

Raven had a feeling whoever caught her attention - if anyone did - would have to be nothing short of amazing. A goddamn pinnacle of humanity.

And Raven. . . Raven wasn't that.

Not that it mattered. She wasn't interested in anything with strings and she was almost positive any relationship with Luna would boast a mountain load of those. Strings running as far as the eye could see. Long enough to wrap around the entire goddamn earth with room to spare.

Suffice it to say, not her cup of tea.

She'd had strings with Finn.

It didn't work out.

Had tried to attach some to Wick, against her better judgment.

Which worked out even less.

She had no intention of going for a third run when it came to huge mother fucking mistakes.

Raven wasn't a genius for nothing. She had to at least be smart about some things.

It'd just be nice, you know, if Luna could help her out with that. Stop looking so freaking irresistible, for starters. Rub a little engine grease over her face, mess up her perfect hair-

No, wait. That would just make things worse.

Raven was a sucker for engine grease.

And messy hair.

She withheld a groan. "You're really fucking annoying, you know that?"

Luna's face pulled into the semblance of a smile. "It's been said."

Yeah, she could believe that.

Rolling her eyes, she dropped the coat in Luna's lap and turned to go. A hand snapped up to block Raven's path, and she nearly screamed at the sight of the offending garb dangling from it.

"You still look cold."

"Your eyes aren't even open!" She threw up her hands and stomped out of the room, ignoring the proffered item of clothing.

Raven swore she heard a resounding chuckle behind her.

Why the hell did she get the feeling that she'd just lost some kind of battle that she didn't even know she'd had a stake in?

Something about the set of Luna's jaw had been suspiciously smug.

Almost like Raven had played right into her hands. But what those hands wanted she didn't have a fucking clue.

"Grrr!"

Fucking Grounders.

She wondered if all of them were this maddening. She'd ask Octavia, Clarke or, hell, even Murphy - the three most knowledgeable candidates on the subject - but had a feeling they were more than biased, having each fallen in love with one themselves.

Well, that was not going to be her.

She had more than enough fucking bullshit to deal with in her life without adding more to it.

Nope, Raven Reyes was smarter than that.

(hopefully)

Body blistering with heat, palms sweating, she paced the expanse of the second floor. Not much was down here, it seemed to be something of a storage facility for all of Becca's tools and creations, and that suited Raven fine. The others were unlikely to wander into it, given the superfluousness of its nature, and she desired nothing more right now than to be left alone.

"Yo, Raven, what-"

"I don't want to have sex with Luna!"

Murphy blinked, coming up short, before his face twisted into a smirk. "You sure about that? Cos you're looking kind of hot and bothered."

Shit. She had not meant to say that. Fucking Murphy. Fucking Luna. Fucking ridiculous hormones that couldn't tell the difference between honest attraction and sexual frustration.

At this rate, she was just gonna invent a vibrator. Call it Rocket Raven. . . or something. The name could be workshopped. That would be a service to mankind.

What the hell was Murphy doing down here, anyway? Shouldn't he be off wasting time with Emori? She'd come down here to be alone. That was the whole point!

Trust Murphy to fuck up a good plan.

"I'm frustrated, okay?" she spat. "Because we have weeks, possibly days if those nuclear power plants decide to be even bigger dicks, and we're no closer to finding a way out of this!" Raven couldn't save everyone if she didn't know how. If she didn't have the tools she needed to make it possible. If her fucking head kept putting her out of commission every time she even got close to- "I figured it out, Murphy, I had a way, I could fix this and it just-" She let out a muffled yell, pushing an ancient computer off its desk.

That was fine. It was too old to be of use, anyway.

Doubtless, it would be destroyed when the Death Wave came. Everything would be.

Still, the crash made her jump.

Even Murphy looked startled. He jerked a thumb at the door, eying her with wide eyes that weren't nearly serious enough for Raven's tastes. "Should I come back later?"

"Yes."

But he didn't leave.

Fucking Murphy.

His expression did lose some of its levity, though. "It's not your fault - what happened with the barrels."

Raven closed her eyes.

It was worse when he was actually being nice.

It was so much easier to punish him for what he'd done to her when he was stuck in his Grade-A Asshole mode.

Raven sighed, rubbing her head. "I know it's not my fault."

But if they failed to save humanity, that would be.

"No-one expects you to pull another miracle out of your ass after that."

Didn't they?

Cos, Raven sure as hell did and past experience suggested that everyone else was primed to follow suit. "I have to fix this, Murphy."

She had to save them. What was the point, otherwise?

Of everything.

All they'd gone through, all they'd suffered.

All the people they'd killed.

Finn.

What was the point, if this was how it all ended?

"Not even you can fix everything, Reyes."

She glared at him, wishing it was a lie. "What are you doing down here, Murphy?"

Her nerves couldn't take this conversation anymore.

(and she was aware that, deep down, he wasn't the one she wanted to be having it with)

Murphy shrugged, inspecting the room. "Abby's looking for you. Got kind of concerned when she came into the lab and realized that her star patient was missing. Kinda think she wants you on bedrest." Yeah, no joke. "Or, at least, some kind of rest. Preferably horizontal." The corner of his mouth drew up. "Maybe Luna could help you out with that. Though I'm not sure it'd be considered resting."

Charming.

Raven sighed and looked away - pointedly ignoring that vulgar addition. "I can rest when I'm dead."

Murphy narrowed his eyes a little at that but didn't comment, continuing his surveyance of the room. "Guess we all have that to look forward to." He frowned, picking up a long metal instrument that had two bulging spheres at the bottom. "Does this look to you like a-"

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Murphy?"

He smirked fleetingly before placing it back on the crate. "So Luna finally managed to kick you out of the lab."

Raven flushed. "What? No. I chose to leave." The look on Murphy's face told her he very much doubted that. "She was being annoying." His lips began to peak. "And she smells." The faint smirk fell away as his eyes widened.

"Huh. You noticed that, too? Kind of minty, right?"

Raven stalled. "Wait, I'm not imagining it?"

Not out of the realm of possibilities considering all the hallucinations she'd been having lately.

Well, at least she wasn't going totally insane.

Small victories, Reyes. Small victories.

Murphy ignored her. "What is it?"

"You don't know?" Raven resisted the urge to pout, having kind of hoped that he would. But things were never that easy for her.

This was nothing more than a small hurdle to jump over, though, one not nearly as big as the dire lack of fuel they were now operating with.

Which may be why she was so focused on it.

If Raven couldn't figure out a way to save humanity then by God she was going to find a way to solve this mystery. She would not be defeated by some weird-ass smell. She was a genius. It would not get the better of her.

Murphy waved a hand, turning away to inspect a new object. "Nope. Just that it isn't actually mint. Emori confirmed that before she told me it was rude to talk about another woman's stink behind her back. So, no help from her corner."

Raven's lips pursed. "She doesn't stink."

That was the problem. As confusing and frustrating as the smell was, Raven liked it. Which wasn't helping matters at all.

"If you say so." He shrugged. "Wanna go up and ask her?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Fuck off, Murphy."

Raven wasn't going to leave this floor until she was good and ready. Curious smell, or no curious smell.

He shrugged carelessly. "I'm sure she would appreciate your company."

"Are you trying to set me up with Luna, Murphy?"

"Yep."

Despite her suspicions, she still couldn't quite contain her disbelief. Unfucking believable. "What the hell, why?"

"I'm bored."

It was worse than she'd thought. A bored Murphy was a fucking menace to society.

(the same could probably have been said about her in the past, too)

"And this beats sitting around thinking about how we're all going to die." Murphy's gaze remained focused on the object in his hands, apparently finding her unworthy of his full attention.

Nope, nope, she was not going to stand for this. "We're not your fucking entertainment!"

"Well someone has to be." He shrugged, looking completely unrepentant for the fact.

"Someone not us." Raven huffed. "It's not going to happen, Murphy, so give up the dream."

"If you say so."

She scowled.

Maybe she should return to the lab. As frustrating as Luna was, she couldn't compete with the likes of Murphy.

Crossing her arms with another huff, Raven turned away to run a furious eye over the cabinets on the far wall, wondering if there was something in there she could aim at Murphy's head.

That metal sphere. . .

Frowning, she turned back around, deciding that it was probably best to resist temptation.

For now.

"Anyway, I didn't just leave because of Luna." Raven could not have him believing that. Knowing Murphy, he'd sell the information to the highest bidder. "That room just gets really stuffy after a while and I had things to do."

"Uh-huh." He crossed his arms. "Like?"

"Well, I'm not going to fucking tell you, am I? It's none of your business."

The glint in his eyes told her he read right through her bullcrap. Asshole. But what did she care what Murphy thought? His thoughts were worth less than einsteinium.

Raven crossed her arms. "If you must know, I'm looking through Becca's shit to see if there's anything that could help us."

Not true but it wasn't a bad idea.

"Well, that may be how you see it," the expression on Murphy's face, however, told her how very much he doubted that, "but there's a reason Luna was looking so smug when I came across her earlier."

"Smug?"

"Like a cat."

Yeah, Raven had gotten that impression, too. She huffed, swiping an obscenely large glass award off the nearest desk. Shit looked expensive. For a moment, she considered letting go. Watching it fall to the floor in a shower of lethal shards that didn't stand a chance at being put back together. "She okay?"

Raven still hadn't forgotten the look of terror on Luna's face when Abby had rudely awoken her earlier. She wasn't sure she ever would.

Murphy seemed confused by the question but shrugged. "Seemed alright to me. Was having a swell time doing arts and crafts with my girlfriend."

She raised an eyebrow. "Arts and crafts?"

"Looked like it to me. Emori was helping her. Think it might be Grounder business."

Raven narrowed her eyes, intrigued in spite of herself. But, nope. She'd just succeeded in escaping Luna's presence, no way she was going to return to it this soon.

No matter how curious she was.

Stupid curiosity.

Murphy paused beside a large vertical machine. . . thing. Honestly, Raven didn't know what half the crap in this room was. There could be the goddamn holy grail of myth in here and she wouldn't have a clue.

Murphy regarded the important looking contraption with interest. "What's this?"

"Teleportation device."

He whipped around to look at her. "Really?"

Raven snorted. "No. But it honestly wouldn't surprise me if there was something like that down here. Becca had her hands in everything."

She was also criminally lacking in common sense and foresight.

Raven had read enough sci-fi books to know that creating an A.I. never ended well. But that was something Becca with her superhuman IQ had somehow failed to consider.

The woman might have invented nightblood but she was still the reason they had any need for it in the first place.

Thanks for that, Becca.

Murphy frowned, further scrutinizing the 'teleportation device'. "Well, something like that would probably solve a lot of our problems right now. No need to rocket up into space and back again if you could just teleport yourself up there."

If only.

But this wasn't science fiction and nothing on the ground was that easy. If Raven could invent a teleportation device to get them out of this shit, she would.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't do a lot of things.

Sighing, Raven placed the award back on the desk.

You had a good run, Becca, but you left us with the biggest fucking mess in the universe that we have no way of fixing and, as much as I admire the fuck out of you, I don't think I'll ever forgive you for that.

She could never forgive her for inadvertently killing everyone Luna had left in the world. For causing her even more pain than she'd already been forced to endure in her short life.

Nor could Raven forgive her for creating an A.I. whose code was now eating away at her brilliant brain like it was the mother of all feasts. Her most treasured possession - and she was going to lose it just like she'd lost everything else.

If she didn't die first.

Hopefully, she did.

And wasn't that a fucked up thing to hope for?

But they'd all done things that came with a shit ton of consequences for other people.

They'd all fucked up.

Raven included.

Becca just happened to be an overachiever.

Murphy seemed to notice the shift in her mood. "We'll figure it out, Reyes."

She snorted, hated that there was a tinge of wetness to it. "Yeah?"

He shrugged, turning away. "We always seem to."

Maybe, but 'always' came at a cost.

Winning always meant losing.

Surviving always meant other people dying.

Raven was tired of it.

Thank God, she wouldn't be around to see the consequences of their indomitably this time.

She sighed. "I think Luna still wants to leave."

It wasn't something she would ever voice to Abby - or Clarke, now that she was here - but as much as she didn't trust Murphy, she found him reliable in his general indifference to all things. He wouldn't overreact.

And she needed to say it to someone.

True to form, he seemed utterly unmoved by the suggestion. "Course she does. Who'd want to spend the world's last days trapped in here? It's freezing." He wasn't wrong. Most of the time, Raven was too fixated on what she was doing to notice. And yesterday she'd been working up one hell of a sweat. But standing around doing nothing like this definitely brought out the prickly feel of goosebumps along her skin.

Then Murphy winked at her and all thoughts of the lab's accursed air-conditioning system were lost. "But at least she has you to keep her warm."

"Oh, fuck off."

She was definitely going to throw something at his head.

Something really, really big.

And sharp.

Preferably at his face.

Murphy sobered. "She's not gonna leave, Raven. She cares too much. People like her always do." He didn't say it like a compliment and she suspected he didn't view it as one, either. "You ask me, we're stuck with her for the long-term. Or, well, until the Death Wave gets here." He brightened. "So maybe not that long."

Raven felt relief at his words, and then guilt.

Because as much as she wanted Luna to stay, she knew that wasn't what Luna wanted. Not really.

It wasn't in anything she'd said exactly but in what she didn't say. Sometimes, Raven would catch her staring off into the distance, always in the same direction, as if she could see through the thick walls of the lab to the abandoned dock that lay miles away.

To the sea.

But they needed her, Raven needed her - however much she might not want to admit it.

She didn't want her to leave.

And she hoped Luna could forgive her for that.

(though something told her she already had)

Because she wasn't sure she could forgive herself.

Past

"He's gone."

The girl shivered. Despite the added protection of the blanket, the cold clung to her. He could not chase it away.

Nyko sighed and sat back against the wall, beside her, not quite touching.

A terrible thing, forcing sibling against sibling. The Fleimkepas had been particularly cruel in that. To pit both Luna and Sol against one another in the first round, when they needn't have faced each other at all - not unless they'd both made it to the final battle, which would have been highly unexpected.

What had Titus been thinking? The Fleimkepa had always been callous, but never brutal without cause.

He could not imagine that Bekka Praimheda had seen such a future when she gifted them with her Flame. Saved them.

For what?

What had she saved them for?

So many years and Nyko still didn't have the answer.

But there was a hurt, shaking child beside him and he had the power to help her.

Perhaps this was what Bekka had saved them for.

"He's gone. I killed him."

Carefully, Nyko wound an arm around her shoulders, exhaling when she sank into the hold instead of pulling away. They had bridged that gap at least, and he savored the victory.

Nyko drew her against his chest, hoping to give shelter, to shield her from the chill - to offer her something to hold onto in the cavernous space around them. He could protect her from the cold even if he could not protect her from life. "You will see him again, little moon."

Just as he would see his brother. One day.

She hunched in on herself, shaking her head repetitively. "Only Commanders live after death."

"Not true. I have seen many die. Seen many spirits depart. But some do not leave. Some stay in the world around us. In the trees. In the deer. In the leaves you crunch beneath your feet. In us. Your brother's spirit will find you again."

It was not empty words but a comfort he had held onto for many years, the hope that the doorway into death was not one-sided. That the spirits would not fully abandon the living, and that love had no end date. It was not a belief shared by many but Nyko held fast to it nonetheless.

Now he gave it Luna, hoping that it would provide her with even the barest amount of consolation it had given him.

He pressed a kiss into her hair, suppressing a grimace at the taste of decay, and tucked her head under his chin, holding her closer.

Nyko was not blind to the fact that, over time, war had become an indulgence for their people rather than a necessity - and it had shaped them all in cruel ways.

He had seen too many children go into battle and not come back.

But he cried for the ones who did.

They were never the same.

They could never be the same.

It was a terrible thing to send children into war.

He was a healer. It was his purpose to patch up bodies so that they could be sent out and destroyed once more. To heal the hurts of battle and turn away from those things that could not be remedied.

He was forever fixing things that should never have been broken.

"I didn't mean to."

She was mumbling again, more to herself than him and he sensed her mind departing, growing fainter.

"I didn't mean to."

Nyko tightened his hold.

"Right now, you are in a nightmare," he breathed into her hair. "But nightmares end."

She shuddered.

And he prayed the spirits did not make a liar of him.

"It's too cold outside for angels to fly."

― Ed Sheeran

Chapter Text

"Even when you'd lost everything you thought there was to lose, somebody came along and gave you something for free."
― Jenny Valentine, Broken Soup

After Murphy finally fucked off, Raven reluctantly admitted defeat and returned to the lab. She'd been away long enough. If her raging libido couldn't find a way to cool its shit, that was on her.

She could handle it.

If she could handle monstrous levels of pain on a daily basis, she could handle a little bothersome arousal here and there.

And, as much as Raven hated to admit it, she kind of missed Luna's company.

Which was unfortunate.

She was still in the lab when Raven entered, only now she had migrated to one of the tables, dismissing all chairs on offer in order to perch upon it.

Very catlike.

Raven grumbled beneath her breath, remembering what Murphy had said.

"What are you doing?" she asked, curiosity rising to the surface as she took in the piles of different colored string beside her.

Luna looked up, mouth curving at the edges when she saw her. "Waiting for you."

Well, that was-

For God's sake, Reyes, don't you fucking cry!

Her hormones really were out of whack lately. She blamed the seizures. And, you know, the homicidal code currently having a party in her brain.

"No, but, what are you doing?" she asked, eyeing the piles of string once more, albeit somewhat warily.

Luna spared them a cursory glance. "Trying to stay occupied. Emori was here earlier, we were exchanging patterns and weaving techniques."

"Exchanging what?"

Luna smiled and held up the item she was working on. It was a length of different colored strings and at the bottom, some of them had been spun into a series of patterns. "Jewelry. Different clans have different techniques and Emori was cast out from hers very young but she's seen a lot in her travels, including different ways of making these." She shrugged, lowering what Raven thought might be the beginnings of a bracelet once more. "There's not really anything else to do in here."

No, there wasn't. Maybe she could bully Murphy into lending Luna his toy robot. She'd probably find it fascinating, or at the very least entertaining. She seemed to have an appreciation for most things, whatever they were, and Raven didn't think a pet robot could escape that. "Yeah."

Scanning the table, she noticed that the piles of blue and green string were, unsurprisingly, the largest.

You can take the girl out of the ocean. . .

"Where did you get all this?" Raven wondered, surveying the collection of brightly colored materials. Did Becca's lab have an Arts and Crafts level too?

"Adria's bag," Luna murmured, separating the purple and red piles that had started to stray into each other's territories. "The one she brought with her from the oil rig. It was full of twine, beads and dyes. Far too many shells. That was all she packed." Luna smiled to herself. "She loves to make things." The smile faltered as they both caught the use of the present tense before Luna took a breath and moved past it. "She wouldn't have wanted the materials to waste away into nothing."

"What are they made of?" Raven asked, unable to deny that she was curious - and also eager to veer away from the pain she could now see clouding Luna's face.

"The thread is made from Spreading Dogbane," she said, handing one of the strings to Raven. She accepted it somewhat cautiously, her experience with the ground having taught her how dangerous some of the things that rose up from it could be. This sagging string looked pretty harmless but you could never be sure. Especially since she had no idea what the fuck spreading dogbane was. Something to do with dogs? Did they still have dogs on earth? She sure as fuck hadn't seen any. "It's incredibly strong and we go to shore towards the end of the year to harvest it, or else trade with other clans. It's used to make twine for sewing, nets, fabric, ropes and bowstrings," she listed with ease and Raven was somewhat impressed with the amount of knowledge Luna contained. She couldn't even tell the difference between dandelions and daisies, let alone what they could be used for. "It's also useful for medicine and sometimes it's employed as a contraceptive, though its effectiveness differs. But it's inedible for many living creatures. Toxic." Luna lifted a shoulder. "Still, it has its purpose. Everything does. A lot of insects depend upon it for survival, including certain butterflies."

Well, Raven liked butterflies at least. Not as much as Octavia, but still. They were pretty neat.

None had tried to eat her yet so that scored them a few points.

"Nothing exists without reason," Raven mused. It was something she was coming to realize more and more since arriving on the ground.

Luna's lips peaked a little in approval. "Mm."

Raven thought of the reason they were here - her blood - and wondered whether Luna could view her own cells in that same fashion.

Doubted it.

Raven had seen the distaste with which Luna referred to her blood and even though there was a reason for that blood's existence - and a pretty freaking good one - she afforded it none of the same appreciation as she did the twine in her hand.

Raven hoped to change that. Somehow.

She just didn't know how yet.

She cleared her throat, moving on. "How do you get the colors? Or does it come like that?"

Raven could admit to being out of her depth. Everything they had on the Ark was synthetic, either recycled from past generations or created anew. Before now, she hadn't really considered that there were other ways to make things - that the ground could supply what was needed all on its own.

It wasn't something she'd ever needed to think about.

"No, we dye it." Luna took the string back. "The blue and red are from blue-green and red algae. Dye from algae doesn't fade over time like many others but brightens. And, of course, it was easiest for us to obtain living out on the oil rig." She directed her finger towards the piles of string farthest from them. "The green, brown and black come from the roots, leaves, bark and husks of the Black Walnut; the yellow is from the Oneseed Juniper; and the purple is from Sunflower seeds," she rattled the list off without thought, pointing to each pile in turn. "And I think you can guess where the shells came from." Before she could respond, Luna reached behind her, revealing what looked to be a finished bracelet and holding it out to Raven. "Here, I made this for you."

She raised an eyebrow, not daring to take it. "You made me a bracelet?"

Now Raven felt even worse about how she'd been spending the past few hours trying to shake off all her dirty thoughts and feelings revolving around her. Meanwhile, Luna had put all her energy into making something. For her.

Raven hadn't thought it was possible for her self-respect to sink any lower but apparently she was mistaken.

Luna nodded sedately, placing it in her hand when she still refused to take it. "It's to help with the meltdowns."

Raven winced at the reminder but her eyes were wholly focused on the beautiful creation in her hand. The bracelet was. . .

God, it was breathtaking.

Luna had used three different colored strings: red, black and blue, but mostly the first two. Tiny dark birds flew across a crimson expanse, dotted with cerulean swirls. Here and there, shells were woven in, looking almost like tiny clouds.

Or moons.

"Derrick taught me how to make them," Luna explained, watching her reaction closely. "I can teach you to make your own, though, if you'd prefer."

Raven clutched the bracelet to her chest before she could attempt to steal it back. "No!"

Shit.

Raven's cheeks flushed. "I mean, this one's fine. I guess. Passable."

Luna's nose scrunched slightly as the corner of her mouth ticked up. "Alright. As long as it's 'passable'."

More than passable.

Luna had used one of the only things she had left from her surrogate daughter to create something for her.

Raven swallowed, not sure how to handle the weight of that.

She hesitated before holding out her hand. "Help me put it on?"

Luna smiled, seeming all too pleased to comply, and took the bracelet back. Raven reluctantly relinquished her grip on it, watching as Luna hopped off the table, drawing closer to her (always too close), and wrapping it around her wrist, doing up the ends with expert fingers.

In a heartbeat, her lungs were full of that strange aroma that clung to Luna like an ever-persistent question mark, and for a second Raven thought she might choke on it.

It wasn't bad.

It wasn't even that strong.

But her senses filled with it.

With Luna.

A lock of hair tickled the crest of Raven's cheek and it was at once too soft and too harsh, scratching against her skin, tempting it, impossible to ignore.

Just like every other part of Luna.

Raven closed her eyes. Just for a moment. Just to steady herself. And the darkness filled with all the elements of Luna she couldn't see - her touch, her smell, the sound of each steady exhale, so close to her own. . .

Too close.

And then it was over.

Finished, Luna drew back, at last allowing Raven to breathe a little easier.

The material itched at her skin but she was glad for the distraction.

"I don't really see how it's supposed to help, though," Raven said after a moment, looking back down at the gift to hide her flush. "No offense. I mean, it's pretty and shit but it's just a bracelet."

Luna nodded and took her hand - she seemed to have a thing for touching Raven and. . . she wasn't exactly complaining but it was starting to play havoc with her nerves and pulse rate - and pressed her fingers against the band of the bracelet. "It's a kara."

"Kara?"

"Anchor, in your language. Like a touchstone."

Raven made a face. "Yeah, that's not making it any clearer."

What the fuck was a touchstone?

A smile darted across Luna's face before she calmed and ran a finger over the path of the bracelet - and although their skin didn't touch, Raven shivered. "Sometimes, when your mind goes elsewhere, you need something physical to draw you back, something you can touch, hold onto," she explained. "The bracelet is thick and it has different textures. It's. . . distracting. Can give you something to focus on. Pull you back." Luna smiled slightly. "When my hands aren't available."

Yeah, that had been distracting for a whole other reason.

Luna frowned suddenly. "It might not work for you, though. Not all things work for all people. I just thought. . ."

This sudden hesitancy was a new side of her that had only started to appear last night. Raven hadn't seen her display it around anyone else and she wondered whether maybe there was something to that.

If the crack in Luna's confidence was a gift she didn't trust anyone else on the island with.

Which implied that she trusted Raven - even if only a little bit - and she wasn't sure what to do with that possibility. It seemed like a lot of pressure, to be honest.

She hated letting people down and she suspected she'd hate letting Luna down more than most.

It also made her wonder. If Luna was choosing to show her this, then what might she be choosing not to show her?

Raven knew a thing or two about donning a mask, though her own were nowhere near as foolproof, so she wasn't about to judge Luna for having hers. But still. It was unnerving.

She'd rather know exactly what she was dealing with when it came to a person. Being in the dark, realizing that there were things that she couldn't see, couldn't touch, couldn't even suspect. . .

That was hard.

Even so, she could understand why Luna might feel the need to wear such a mask around them. In Raven's opinion, she was probably smart to.

They weren't going to hurt her, of course. And they weren't enemies. But that didn't change the fact that they were still relative strangers - and why the hell would you ever invite a stranger in to view the innermost spaces of your heart?

No, Luna was wise to keep some parts of herself to herself.

Raven would have.

Raven did. Every day.

Though, that still didn't stop her from craving to see those parts, to know all of Luna that there was to know.

She'd rather not ruminate on why that might be.

Raven closed a hand over the one that had been holding hers the moment she felt it start to retreat. "Thankyou. I appreciate it." She meant that wholeheartedly. "And, even if it doesn't work, at least I've got some cool new jewelry." She smiled at Luna, trying not to think of the last time someone had made her something like this.

That metal raven was still the best gift she had ever received and she could remember the way her heart had stilled in her chest before picking up into a gallop when it was presented to her. The flush to her face as her body screamed with elation.

It was just a simple necklace. But Raven had been dizzy at the sight of it.

She knew it didn't bode well that she felt some of that same heady rush now as she traced a finger over the bracelet, trying not to notice the darker flecks to Luna's eyes as she watched her.

Luna's answering smile was blinding and she had to look away, back down to the pattern of threads on her wrist, tracing one of the birds that flew around it.

"They're supposed to be ravens," Luna said, following her gaze. "But I'm afraid it's. . . a rather poor attempt. I'm more used to crafting fishes and other sea creatures. Adria liked dolphins, so lots of those."

Raven stared. Like she was going to care how accurate the shapes were when Luna was the one who had made them. For her. "It's amazing, Luna. Really." She prayed that the words sounded casual as she forced them out through the sudden lump in her throat. "Thankyou."

Luna ducked her head but her smile spanned the full length of her cheeks - which may have been sporting a faint rosy sheen. Raven's stomach flipped. "It was truly nothing. I've had a lot of time on my hands lying around doing nothing, so it was a good distraction."

Raven grunted. "Getting blood sucked out of you on the regular isn't exactly nothing."

She blew out a puff of air. "But it is boring. I may love meditation, but there's only so much of it I can stand in one day."

Could have fooled me.

"Well, you can always hang out around here more. Talk to me."

Wait, no.

What the fuck are you doing, Reyes?

That is the lastthing you want.

She'd never get any work done again.

Luna seemed to be having the same thought as she hesitated. "I wouldn't want to distract you from your work."

"Sometimes I need the distraction." Probably true but not something Raven really cared to consider. She was also grateful that Luna hadn't pointed out that, at this point, she had no work. No matter how determinedly she was ignoring the truth of that fact. "Plus, I'm pretty sure Murphy nominated you for babysitting duties."

Much to her dismay.

"I actually think he called it Ravensitting." Luna's brow furrowed. "Though I don't really understand it either way. Why would I sit on a baby or you?"

Raven flushed, praying she didn't understand the double meaning of what she'd just said. "It's just an expression. Basically means take care of. Like taking care of a baby."

Luna hummed, stepping closer. "But in this case I would be taking care of you?"

"Yep." She did her best to suppress the sudden burst of irritation that sentence provoked, and the way her palms were now sweating fiercely at Luna's close proximity. Like, seriously, did she not know the meaning of personal space?

Clearly not.

Luna's eyes traveled over her, top to bottom, appraising. "I'm not so sure you need it. Though I have noticed you have an aversion to taking breaks and that you don't eat enough."

Raven pouted. "I take breaks."

She'd just taken a huge fucking one, in fact, all because of the woman standing in front of her. But she couldn't say that. Too many questions. Plus, she wouldn't want to give Luna a big head or lead her to think that she had any kind of power over her.

Which she didn't.

Luna narrowed her eyes. "Your seizures don't count."

"Since they stop me from working for an annoying amount of time, technically they do."

Luna squinted. "This conversation has been less than reassuring. In fact, it's only convinced me that you do need me to sit on you."

There was the sound of somebody choking and she just knew Murphy was listening in on this conversation. Creep.

Was he fucking stalking her now or something?

Raven winced. "That's not really how you use that ter-"

Luna blinked.

"Nevermind. Sit away." Raven sighed, waving at a seat a short distance from the rocket. "Just don't expect any miracles. I'm not leaving this baby until I fix the mess we're in."

Luna narrowed her eyes and took a seat, crossing her arms as she watched her return to the rocket. "We'll see."

Crap.

"That's not a challenge by the way."

She merely hummed in response.

Raven realised that she might well have just made a big mistake. 

Huge.

Luna looked like someone who was preparing herself for battle and considering that was something she'd been trained in since birth. . .

Raven was so screwed.

It was possible she'd finally met someone who possessed the same level of stubbornness and determination as her.

Just her goddamn freaking luck.

This was all Murphy's fault. She wasn't sure how but she knew it to be true.

Fucking Murphy.

Which reminded her. . .

"Also if you see Murphy walking around with a suspicious looking bruise on his face, it wasn't me."

Luna's eyes narrowed. "Raven."

"Wasn't me."

She watched her a moment longer before sighing, ultimately deciding to let it go. "What am I going to do with you?"

Raven's mind filled with a lot of interesting and colorful depictions of just what she would like Luna to do with her.

Oh, fuck off.

She shrugged, turning away. "I'm really not as high maintenance as you seem to think."

"Mm-hmm."

On impulse, Raven nearly put forward a bargain that if Luna told her what that weird smell was, she'd endeavor to behave a little more from now on. Or, well, at least for a day. Five hours. Two. No less than one.

But that would mean admitting that she'd even noticed the smell in the first and - what was worse - had been unable to get it out of her head. Luna did not need to know that she spent time thinking about her outside of their conversations. Ever.

Nope, best to keep that to herself.

If worse came to worse, she could go pump Emori for information. Raven was confident she could do a much better job of it than Murphy.

"He gave me a gift, a surprise. It was my first present in this place so far from home."
― Laura Kelly, Dispatches from the Republic of Otherness

Chapter Text

The next morning, Luna somehow managed to convince her to vacate the lab for another walk.

Well, not somehow.

She actually hadn't had to do all that much convincing.

One hopeful smile directed Raven's way and she was a goner, almost tripping over herself in her rush to ensure that smile didn't falter.

It was becoming increasingly clear that Luna had far too much power over her.

Far too much.

She comforted herself with the thought that she was only doing this because, as Luna had pointed out, the exercise would be good for her brain, energize it enough to spark some new thoughts - hopefully ones that would be enough to save them - but she knew that wasn't the reason.

Knew it as her chest squeezed with the widening of Luna's smile, the way her pulse jumped when she grasped onto Raven's hand, leading her out of the lab.

She was way too touchy.

Yet Raven didn't hate it.

She traced the wrapping of the bracelet around her wrist, watching as Luna inspected various plants on their way, plucking a few here and there and dumping them into the satchel she'd brought along.

It was a quiet walk but the silence was far from frustrating. Rather, it gave Raven room to breathe, to think, without the cacophony of thoughts that had been crowding her head for weeks now.

Her ever-present headache welcomed the reprieve.

"What are you collecting?" she asked.

Luna didn't look up from the leaf she'd been examining for several moments. "A bit of everything. I left all my herbs back on the oil rig and you never know when something might come in handy." Apparently deciding that the leaf failed muster - or else wasn't what she was looking for - she let it go.

"What do you use them for?"

Luna's lips quirked as she spared her a glance. "A bit of everything."

Rolling her eyes, Raven drew closer, peering at the flower Luna had now moved on to inspecting. "What does that one do?"

"It's an emetic. In case you happen to swallow poison." She plucked several of the flowers free. "Trust me, it comes in handy."

Raven raised a brow. "Swallow poison often, do you?"

Luna smiled secretly. "You'd be surprised."

Well, Raven would much rather hold off on said surprise than find out exactly what she meant by that.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, Raven trying not to think about all the work she was leaving back at the lab. Granted, there wasn't any actual work, not since the barrel plan had been blown, but struggling to come up with a new plan still made her feel useful. Like she was at least doing something and not just standing back and waiting for the world to end.

Though, Murphy didn't seem to be having all too much trouble with that.

She spared a few surreptitious glances over her shoulder, back at the direction they'd come.

Luna didn't miss it. "The lab will still be there in an hour or two. And so will your rocket."

Raven huffed, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Well, it's not like we have many hours to waste."

"You're right. We don't. But taking a break every now and again will only help you achieve what you want. We're not made to work constantly. We burn out."

Yeah, she knew that only too well.

"If you give your mind time to rest, it will repay you for it."

Raven grumbled but couldn't find a reasonable argument against that. "Yeah, yeah."

Luna smiled - it was impossible to keep up even a modicum of irritation when she did that - and they moved on.

A minute later, Luna paused at a tree, its bark a rusty brown, almost red. She traced a finger over the lines of its trunk. "Twice."

"What?"

"I've swallowed poison twice," Luna murmured, standing up on her tiptoes to reach the foliage sprouting from higher up the tree.

Raven blinked. "Wait, are you serious?"

Her cheeks pinched momentarily in a smile. "Deadly serious."

Raven narrowed her eyes, unappreciative of the joke. "Ha ha."

Luna's lips turned up further. "The second time was entirely my fault. I was still unfamiliar with a lot of plants and was on my own. It was winter then, so I was starving." She frowned, recalling the memory. "It was a stupid thing to do. Everyone knows not to eat a plant you're unfamiliar with. But I was desperate and this was the first fruit I'd come across in a week. So I ate it. Luckily, Nyko insisted that I always keep an emetic on me at all times." Her smile turned wry. "I don't think he trusted me very much to look after myself. He was always a bit of a mother pauna."

Raven didn't share her amusement. "You were okay, though, right?"

She nodded. "I was lucky. And I learnt a valuable lesson, so it wasn't without its purpose." Moving away from the tree, she crouched down to inspect the shrubs at its roots. Raven didn't know how she could tell any of this shit apart. It all looked the same to her. No doubt, if left to her own devices on the ground, she'd probably end up poisoning herself too.

"And the first time?"

Luna's smile was back. "That one was not my fault. I lay the blame squarely at the feet of Lincoln."

"Lincoln?" Though they hadn't been close - hell, she'd even tortured him at one point - it hurt a little to hear his name dropped so casually in conversation. He'd been a good man.

And he'd paid for it with his life.

She'd forgotten that he and Luna had known each other. Had maybe even been friends.

"He brought me this platter of fruit, back when I was staying with Nyko."

Right, he'd mentioned that he and Luna had crossed paths occasionally after her mysterious Conclave, implied that he'd even helped her in the process. But Raven hadn't known that she'd stayed with him. Or that Lincoln had been involved.

"I think he was trying to impress me," Luna continued, lips quirking.

Raven raised a brow. "Did it work?"

"I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd received much greater platters back when I was living in Polis. But, yes, it impressed me. The thoughtfulness of it did." She smiled to herself. "At least until I started asphyxiating. He'd confused one of the fruits with another. One that was highly poisonous. Easily done, they're the same color, same shape. But the trees they come from look slightly different."

Raven started. "Lincoln poisoned you?"

Was that like his thing? Poisoning random people?

She still hadn't forgiven him for what he'd done to Finn.

"By accident." Luna shrugged her shoulders carelessly. "Nyko was furious, though. Wouldn't let him anywhere near me for a week. After that, Lincoln was certainly far more careful when it came to poisons, even pedantic at times. I don't think he wanted to make the same mistake twice."

Raven snorted. "I'll bet."

If only that had translated to him not wanting to use any poison at all. That would have saved them all a headache.

She wondered if she should start hiding all the fruit in Luna's vicinity. The last thing they needed was for her to pull a Snow White - and whilst Raven wasn't sure who would be lining up to fill the role of evil stepmother, stranger things had happened.

Biting her lip, she turned around and made her way as speedily as possible to the bush they'd passed several minutes ago. Following after her, Luna watched curiously as Raven swiped her bag and went about piling as many of the flowers as she could get her hands on into it.

"Just in case," she explained, stomach flipping at the answering twinkle in Luna's eye.

"Of course," she said, cheeks slightly strained with the effort to keep her smile under wraps. "Though, generally we advise that you only take a third of the flowers on offer. So the plant can survive and grow anew."

Raven glanced guiltily back at the bush she'd so hastily stripped bare. Luna touched her arm briefly, accepting the bag back. "It's okay. None of these plants are going to survive what's coming."

She exhaled a little in relief that she hadn't just committed a major fuck-up in Luna's eyes but that faltered when she saw how subdued she'd become in the space of a second, and Raven didn't think it had anything to do with her.

('None of these plants are going to survive what's coming.')

Right, that was a bit of a downer.

She searched around for something to say, to distract from the heaviness she now saw in Luna's gaze.

Fingers absentmindedly finding the band around her wrist again, she deliberated. "So what's your anchor- uh, kara?"

Luna's eyebrows drew up at the question but she eased into it without any further hesitation. Holding up a hand, she wriggled her fingers demonstratively.

Raven's mouth parted. "Your gloves?"

She grinned, lowering her hand. "I like to keep my hands warm. It seemed convenient."

Well, if you want something to keep your hands warm, I-

She resisted the urge to slap herself in the face. Seriously, Reyes?

Shifting uncomfortably, Raven crossed her arms - just in case she got the unforgivable impulse to reach out and steal one of Luna's innocent, unsuspecting hands.

Raven grasped the bracelet on her wrist in defense. "Well, mine's prettier."

Luna's cheeks pulled tight and she seemed to be fighting a laugh. "I would be insulted if you also weren't indirectly complimenting me."

Of course there was a drawback to pretty girls making you bracelets. She'd known there'd have to be. "Only indirectly. And very unintentionally."

"Of course." Her eyes sparkled. "I'm pleased you approve of my work."

Yeah, a little too much. She'd found herself fiddling with the bracelet almost constantly since it had landed on her wrist and every time she did so, her heart gave a little tug.

Never accept gifts from pretty girls, Raven. Big mistake.

She bit her tongue on a pout. "It itches."

Luna laughed.

By late afternoon, they had parted ways, Luna retreating to the mansion to deposit her spoils whilst Raven returned to the lab. In disregard of Abby's protests, she ran through the simulation again, and again, determined to find a way around the missing barrel.

But no matter what she tried, failure inevitably reared up and slammed her in the face.

Three hours later, sweating and somewhat dizzy with exhaustion, Raven gave up. Collapsing onto the nearest seat, she grimaced slightly at the feel of it. The chairs in Becca's lab really were as uncomfortable as they came.

But they were better than sitting on the floor. If only because it meant she didn't have to force her body through the inevitable contortions and strains that came with getting down and back up again.

Luna found her then, as if summoned. The doors opened with a swish and Raven looked up to see her making her way down the stairs, laden down with two plates of food. Had she carried those all the way over from the mansion? The distance wasn't exactly brief and from the amount of food she could see laden on them, they had to be heavy.

Luna held out a plate after she reached her. "I know you don't like John but his cooking, at least, is something to be admired."

Raven huffed but reluctantly accepted it, if only because she hadn't eaten at all yet and she was starting to get the shakes. Once again, her body was enforcing its limits.

Besides, she couldn't reject the offering after Luna had gone to so much effort to bring it to her.

"I've had better."

Not true, but Luna didn't need to know that.

Luna smiled a little to herself like she was aware anyway, before sinking gracefully down onto the seat beside her. "Me, too. But it is better than what we were eating at Arkadia."

Raven could grant her that. "Yeah. Not a lot of quality cooks among our people. And most of us have never worked with real food before. Well, until now."

Luna hummed thoughtfully. "I can't imagine what that would be like. I've always had something natural to eat. Even if it was horrible."

She kind of envied her that. "It's one of the ground's few selling points." She poked at some of the pale brown chunks on her plate. "What kind of meat is this anyway?"

Raven hoped it wasn't fucking rabbit. After Luna's story, she wasn't sure she could stomach it - and she sure as hell didn't know how Luna could.

Though, doubtless, she'd had to. Many times.

"A bird of some kind." Luna squinted down at the plate. "I think."

"Well, that's encouraging," Raven grumbled, eyeing the dish with renewed caution.

Luna tilted her head in agreement. "I think I might go fishing this week. It's not fair to leave all the hunting to John and Emori."

Why not? It wasn't like they were doing anything else to be useful.

Okay, that wasn't entirely fair. Murphy had taken up Ravensitting duty - which she resented - until she'd, you know, totally flipped on him. And it wasn't like there were many ways for either him or Emori to help beyond that.

Though, Raven got the feeling those two were doing more scavenging than hunting. They were good at that.

She was surprised by Luna's suggestion, however. Raven had assumed she would never want to go near a fish again. Not after what had happened. Maybe this was a good sign.

Raven hunched her shoulders, stabbing a carrot with her fork. "Want company?"

She hated that a part of her instinctively coiled up in fear of rejection. Thanks, Mum.

But Luna smiled at her, looking exceptionally pleased by the offer - too pleased. "I would love it."

God, why did she have to be so goddamn nice?

"It's whatever." And now she sounded awkward as fuck, but Luna ducked her head, that smile growing.

Luna took a tentative taste of the unnamed bird, relaxing a moment later. "It's safe," she declared, winking at her.

A wink that had no right to be so fucking hot.

Shit, this was getting to unmanageable levels.

Trying to swallow the burn in her chest, Raven looked back down, intent on taking a hasty bite of her own bird. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed something dark and green littering it. What the hell? Was Murphy trying to poison her?

"Uh. . . there's grass on my bird." She poked at it, equal parts perturbed and disappointed. Now that she had the food in front of her, it was hard to dismiss the hunger in her gut. "Fucking Murphy. Knew him being able to cook was too good to be true."

Luna hid a smile.

"It's a herb. Rosemary. It's very versatile and has a wide range of uses. In this instance, adding flavor to birds of unknown origin."

Raven peered at her suspiciously. "This is your doing, isn't it?"

Luna seemed to be working her way into every other aspect of her life, so why not her food too?

"Yes." She didn't look at all guilty for the fact. "I promise it tastes nothing like grass."

"And how would you know what grass tastes like?"

Luna was silent.

Raven let out a snort of laughter. "No way. You ate it?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I was a child. And Lexa dared me too."

"And if she dared you to jump out the airlock would you do it?" Luna's brow furrowed in confusion. "Sorry, Sky Person reference. So Lexa wasn't always a hard ass, huh? Used to have a sense of humor."

Sounded unlikely, but okay.

Luna pierced a peculiar-looking vegetable with her fork, not seeming daunted by its ambiguity. "Oh, she never lost it. But back then she didn't bother to hide it."

Raven's ribs itched and she bit her lip, frustrated that any mention of the Commander always seemed to bring back that day in full contrast. "I'll take your word for it."

Maybe cutting ravens to ribbons was Lexa's idea of a joke.

She rolled her eyes, stabbed another carrot.

Luna watched her a moment, calculating, before seeming to sense that moving on would be the best course of action. "It's from the Latin, ros marinus. Which means dew of the sea."

Right, back to the stupid herb.

Then Luna's words caught up with her and she snorted. "Of course, it does. You're such an ocean geek."

The fact that Raven kind of dug it was not something she wanted to ruminate on.

Luna paused, fork halfway to her mouth. "Geek?"

"Nerd."

She continued to stare at her blankly and Raven flailed around for an explanation that would bridge the divide between their two cultures. "You're obsessed with it."

Good enough.

Luna shook her head, finally taking a bite of her food. "You Sky People have such strange terms for things." She didn't deny the observation, though.

Raven pointed a fork at her. "Hey, that one originated before the nuclear apocalypse so we can't take credit for it. Technically, it belongs to both of us."

"Well, my people clearly didn't appreciate it as much as yours since it's no longer in use."

"That's because your people suffer from a criminal lack of taste."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Or we just don't feel the need to label every aspect of ourselves."

"Po-tay-to po-tah-to." Raven shrugged, at last taking a bite of the suspicious meat. Okay, so Luna hadn't been lying. It did taste okay. Kind of better than okay.

Wait. That smell. . .

Brow furrowing, she skewered another piece and raised it to her nose for inspection.

Nope, she hadn't been imagining it. That was definitely the smell.

"Why the hell do you smell like lunch?"

"Oh." Luna's eyes widened a moment before she shifted some of her hair to the side, revealing a sprig of rosemary wound into some of the strands. "For remembrance. Delfikru tradition."

Raven squinted, waiting, but Luna didn't elaborate. Nonplussed, she shrugged, resolving to leave it for now.

A part of her couldn't believe it. All her guessing, all her confusion and frustration. . . over a tiny little twig.

She almost felt cheated.

Raven had been hoping for something a little grander. Something that could explain why she was so consumed with the scent.

Why she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Or Luna.

But it was just a herb. A simple fucking herb. Nothing more, nothing less.

"You're lucky I haven't applied henna to my hair recently or I'd smell like grass," Luna continued, eyes sparkling. "Adria hated it."

Raven wrinkled her nose. "Henna?"

Luna nodded, releasing the strands and allowing them to fall back into place. "It's one of the plants I use to keep my hair healthy. I have a lot of it, and it takes care to maintain. I left it to its own devices once and it was. . . a nightmare. Costia was horrified." Her mouth curled slightly, lost in a memory that seemed to hold much amusement for her.

"Oh." She hadn't really given much thought to how Grounders maintained their hair - or any other form of hygiene and beauty. But it made sense. She assumed that most cultures tended to care about appearances and even the Apocalypse couldn't change that. Clearly.

Raven wondered who this Costia was, though. She'd never heard her mentioned before. A friend? Ex-girlfriend, maybe? Probably another member of Floukru, which meant that they were venturing dangerously close to grief-stricken waters.

She opened her mouth to change the subject but Luna was already continuing. "It's why I have this red tint to my hair."

Raven stiffened as she captured her hand and raised it to the top of her head - did she really have to be so fucking tactile all the time?

She swallowed, concentrated all her efforts on studying the auburn tinge to Luna's hair, instead of feeling the tingling warmth of her hand.

"So it's not-"

"Natural? No." She smiled. "The wonders of nature."

More like the side-effects of nature. "It's, um, nice."

A little too nice.

Everything about Luna was.

She released Raven's hand and her breath came back in a rush. It shouldn't feel like she was on fire every time Luna touched her. God, it was like going through puberty all over again.

Luna smiled at her and she managed a strained one back.

It was annoying as hell, this effect she had on Raven. She liked Luna's company. Their conversations, the way she didn't treat her like glass but still seemed overly invested in her wellbeing.

She liked Luna.

And these goddamn hormones were ruining it.

"Think it would look good on me?" Raven asked, gaze dancing away.

"Hmm," she assessed her playfully. "I think it might add a certain flair." That stupid smile was back. Raven resisted the urge to smack it off her face. Thankfully, Luna soon shrugged and moved on. "But I haven't found any here on the island yet, so I think you're out of luck."

"Oh. Well, that sucks." She didn't really mean it. Her head was too clouded at the moment to mean much of anything.

She still didn't get Luna. Why she cared.

More specifically, why she cared about her.

Raven was used to fighting for every stray scrap of affection (well, at least when she wasn't fighting off unwanted attention). There were only two people she hadn't had to do that with.

Sinclair. And Finn.

Or, in the beginning, Finn had been one of them. The first person, in fact, to offer her love freely, before she even knew she wanted it.

But that had changed.

There was Abby. Raven knew she cared about her, loved her even maybe.

But she could still feel the sting of a slap against her cheek and how, in that moment, she'd felt like a child again, enduring the brunt of her mother's temper for daring to speak the truth.

Luna was. . .

She didn't ask for anything. She certainly didn't seem to expect anything.

She just. . . was.

Her affection, her care, for all appearances, seemed to come without strings or demand. As for earning it, all Raven had done was place a gun on the ground - a gun that should never have been raised in the first place.

But sometimes Luna looked at her like she'd done more than that, like she'd ripped the heavens apart and called rain down to quench a never-ending drought.

And she hated it. It was all too fucking much to live up to. She'd put a gun down, that was all. And once Luna realized that was all she had to give her, her awe would cease.

Because Raven was brilliant at everything she did.

She just wasn't all that brilliant at being a person.

Not the kind that could live up to whatever it was Luna thought she saw in her. Whatever impossible illusion she'd crafted.

It wasn't like the two of them had anything in common, either, besides being used as science experiments - which Luna didn't even know about.

Raven certainly wasn't all peaceful and shit. Luna could try to sway her, but she didn't think meditating would ever be something she willingly engaged in.

But when she talked, Luna looked at her like everything she had to say was of the utmost importance. Which Raven was used to getting on account of her genius brain - people knew they sure as fuck better listen to her if they wanted to stand a chance in this hell. But she didn't talk about that kind of shit with Luna. World-saving wasn't the main object of their conversations - not Raven's part in the endeavor, anyway.

Actually, when they did talk about it, Luna seemed more focused on steering her away from the world-saving.

Raven's brain didn't seem to be of any value to Luna. Or, at least, of no more value than the rest of her.

She was like Finn in that.

He hadn't given a shit what her brain could do. It was the rest of her that interested him, the bits she didn't always hand over to other people.

She was Raven first. Genius mechanic second.

It was weird - even unsettling - to experience that with someone else. Especially because she knew it couldn't last.

Nothing did.

Finn had known her better than anyone, known everything there was to know, and he'd still picked some girl he'd only hung out with for a hot second over her.

It was hard not to take that personally.

You can't choose who you love. And he did love you.

Just not the way you wanted to be loved.

Story of her life.

Her mum hadn't loved her the way she wanted to be loved, either.

Raven sighed, stirring the mess of veggies around on her plate, increasing their unappetizing appearance by the second.

Finn had been everything to her. But she hadn't been everything to him.

Maybe that was healthier, though. She'd put too much of her heart into Finn and she'd barely survived the loss of him.

One person couldn't be everything. But Raven wasn't sure she knew how to love any other way.

Not romantically.

Though, Finn had always been so much more than just a lover to her.

She couldn't-couldn't allow herself to get used to that feeling, that security. Not again.

Raven's eyes bore into her plate, feeling heavy with the knowledge of who had brought it to her. With the memory of that jacket, weighing down her shoulders.

The bracelet around her wrist felt suddenly constricting.

When she'd told Luna she could hang around the lab for Ravensitting, she hadn't actually meant for her to take the offer to heart. Rather, Raven had intended for her to know that she was welcome in her presence, that she didn't have to spend her days on the island alone.

But she hadn't and she didn't want anyone to take care of her.

Or to feel like they had to.

She got enough of that from Abby.

She didn't want that kind of relationship with Luna. She didn't want to be another burden she had to carry.

Raven sighed. "You don't have to worry about me, Luna."

She hated people worrying about her. Almost as much as she hated the possibility that no-one worried about her at all.

But Luna just shrugged.

"I think I do," she said easily. "Everybody needs someone to worry about them. And I no longer have anyone to worry about so I happen to be available."

Ouch.

Raven squinted a second later, though. "You're trying to make me feel sorry for you so I'll stop fighting you on this, aren't you?"

"Mm, yes." Luna shoveled a fork full of food into her mouth, taking her time with it, before turning a smile on her. "Is it working?"

Raven snorted. "Frustratingly well."

She couldn't believe it. Except she kind of could.

"Good." Luna smiled before returning to her meal.

Raven suspected, however, that whilst Luna may be manipulating her she had also been completely honest in everything she'd said. She just knew how to use the truth to her advantage.

She supposed it might be difficult going from being responsible for an entire clan to being responsible for no one but herself. Maybe Raven had become a surrogate clan member, a placeholder for the people she'd lost. It was the only way she could explain Luna's unfailing interest in her. The way she had started sticking to her like a duckling who'd imprinted, trailing after Raven wherever she went. Even Murphy had commented on it once - much to her embarrassment.

Or maybe. . .

Maybe Luna was just lonely.

Lonely like Raven was lonely.

She could understand that.

Perhaps it was even another reason why Luna had chosen to stay on the island in the first place.

Maybe this compulsion she had to take care of her wasn't about Raven at all. Maybe she needed to give help, more than Raven needed to receive it.

But it still made her uncomfortable.

"I can take care of myself."

Luna glanced up. "Of course, you can. You're an extremely capable person, Raven. That much is obvious." She couldn't stop herself from preening a little at the assessment. "But there's a difference between being capable of something and actually doing it. I don't think you value your own care as much as you do that of others. You put them first. You put the world first." Luna's smile, whilst admiring, was weighted by sadness. "I know that's not going to change and I don't expect it to. But in the meantime, I can put you first." The smile grew lighter, almost impish. "If you'll let me."

Raven gaped, stomach turning with that questionable bird, threatening to expel its contents. Such care and consideration shouldn't make her feel sick, but it did.

Maybe because everyone else in the past who'd ever offered it had either ended up dying or betraying her - sometimes both.

But Luna was safe.

She had to keep reminding herself of that.

Luna was a nightblood.

So she was safe.

Raven only had a short time left to live and, statistically, the odds of Luna dying in that time - when she was currently the safest person on earth - were extremely low.

And even Raven's paranoia couldn't convince her that she was likely to ever betray her.

Yet Raven still had to clench her hand to keep from digging her nails into her thigh. Lowering her gaze, she moved to clutch the bracelet instead, soothing herself to the rise of each indentation.

(so maybe Luna had known what she was talking about when she'd come up with this whole touchstone thing)

Clarke had promised to put her first once, too.

Hadn't meant it.

It scared her that Luna might.

"I don't think I can," Raven said finally. Nausea aside, she knew herself well enough to predict she would never cave to another's fussing easily. "But I'll try."

Because she believed Luna when she said that her care didn't come from a place of doubt, a lack of confidence in Raven's own abilities. That she didn't think she was weak.

And. . . she wasn't wrong about her lack of self-care. It just wasn't something that bothered Raven enough for her to try and fix.

But it bothered Luna.

And she didn't want anything to bother her.

Which was a worrying realization in itself.

Luna smiled. "I won't ask for more than that."

And Raven knew she wouldn't.

Chapter Text

Past

"Your brother's spirit will find you again."

No. It would not.

What spirit returned to the one who had severed it from life?

Or perhaps many did.

Perhaps she would see her brother again - as he pushed her head under the water. Just as she pushed his.

Perhaps she would be haunted.

She did not know if this was a good or a bad thing.

Perhaps it would be good.

She would like to go into the water.

She would like to be with him.

"I didn't mean to."

But she had. She had.

She saw her brother and she felt the knife in her hand and she-

She thought, not today.

Not today.

I do not want to die today.

I do not want to die.

I do not want to die.

And then she thought nothing at all.

She should have died.

Death would have been kinder than this.

"Right now, you are in a nightmare. But nightmares end."

What did it say, that a part of her didn't want this one to?

That a part of her wanted to stay here, in the dark. With her brother's blood still tight on her skin.

She did not want to venture into the light without him.

Knew that she did not deserve to.

"Luna?"

"I didn't mean to."

But she had.

Present

Abby had finally kicked Raven and Luna out of the lab, saying there was little either of them could do right now whilst she and Jackson continued their study of her blood - in the fruitless hope that they might actually find a solution that didn't involve going into space.

Luna had vacated the premises far more willingly than Raven.

"Make sure this one actually gets some rest," were Abby's final words to Luna as they departed.

This whole Ravensitting thing was getting real fucking annoying.

She bristled but the woman beside her just chuckled, settling her hands on Raven's arms as she guided her out of the room. "I'm not sure anyone has that power, Abby."

Damn right.

But Luna understanding this certainly meant that their friendship - or whatever it was they had going on - had a much better chance of surviving.

Abby rolled her eyes and waved them off.

It didn't take Raven long to find out that Luna could, at times, be downright mischievous. At least, moreso than any other Grounder she'd ever come across. Moreso than most Sky People, as well. She thought, in another life, that they could have gotten into a lot of fun (read: trouble) on the Ark.

She suspected that illegal spacewalks would be right up her alley.

It was the first thing that made her aware of how young Luna really was. They weren't actually that far apart in age, Raven was sure, and since she didn't actually know Luna's age it was possible she wasn't any older than her at all.

Given everything Raven knew about her, that wasn't a comfortable possibility to linger on.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask but she wasn't sure that she wanted an exact number. It was easier to think of Luna as older and wiser. Somehow, that made it better. The suffering she'd gone through. Everything she'd lost. . .

Raven didn't know why it made it better, but it did.

She was sick of watching the ground tear children apart.

But child or not, Luna's youth was undeniable.

It was she who suggested that they play a game once they'd made their way inside the mansion. Raven scoffed at the idea, was fully prepared to turn around and hightail it back to the lab.

But Luna grabbed her hand and that touch - so carelessly given - set Raven's nerves on fire (for once, in a way that wasn't painful). She was helpless to do anything but allow Luna to lead her into one of the loungerooms and settle her at a small, two-person table.

She gaped a little, trying to catch her bearings as Luna rifled around in a drawer underneath the table before pulling out an ancient - and pristine - looking chess set.

When the hell had she stumbled on that?

"Chess? Seriously?"

The world was ending and Luna wanted them to play chess?

She shrugged and set it on the table before taking her own seat. "It requires enough concentration to be distracting, but not so much that it can't still be considered resting."

Raven bit her tongue on a snarky retort - which would have been more venomous than not - about having no need for rest in the first place. In fact, Luna could take her idea of rest and shove it up her-

She'd promised to try. Against her better judgment, she'd promised to at least try and accept a little fussing.

Didn't mean she had to like it.

Raven crossed her arms belligerently. "And what if I don't want to play?"

Luna shrugged, already setting up the pieces. "Then you can watch whilst I play myself. Or leave. It's up to you. But I really would prefer the challenge of an actual opponent."

It was exactly the right thing to say. Giving her a choice. Acting indifferent to whatever decision Raven made but still letting it be known that she would appreciate the company.

If manipulation was an art, Luna was a master at it.

Maybe that was what happened when you were raised from birth to rule an entire kingdom of warring nations.

Raven sighed but relented.

There was a certain tension to Luna's brow as she worked to set up the board and it occurred to Raven that this game of chess might not be entirely altruistic. That maybe Luna needed the distraction as much as she did. She'd been through a lot, just in the last two weeks alone, and was likely still coming to grips with it.

Maybe she needed the company. And Raven was all she had left after her last friend had died right in front her, forfeiting his life for hers in the blink of an eye.

That had only been days ago. But Luna hadn't mentioned the incident since.

Raven didn't believe for a second that this was a sign the loss no longer weighed on her, though.

She knew that Luna cared too much to move on so easily.

Raven sighed, toying with one of the chess pieces she'd set down. "I'm sorry about what happened to Nyko. You seemed close."

Before finishing the trek to Becca's lab, they'd burned the healer's body. The whole affair had felt rushed and somewhat disrespectful. Though, cremation seemed to be a tradition for most Grounders, including Trikru, so he'd received that small show of respect at least.

Luna's face had been impassive throughout, the crumbling emotion that Raven had been given a window to only hours before once again under lock and key. It was an impressive skill but it also had the effect of making her feel slightly uneasy, wondering what else besides grief could be kept so well hidden.

Raven didn't like being around people she couldn't read. Ones who didn't wear their emotions as explosively as she did. And she had a sense that Luna's own feelings were definitely of the explosive variety.

Maybe that was what all the meditation was for.

At the same time, she was kind of envious of her flawless composure. Raven could try to bury the pain, pretend it didn't exist, but most days she couldn't even succeed in fooling herself, let alone anyone else.

Luna suffered no such limitations. Raven suspected that, if she ever was in pain, no-one would be able to see it. Not unless she allowed them to.

There was a freedom in that.

That day, Luna had murmured some perfunctory prayers - the syllables and intonations different to what she'd heard from her before, so Raven suspected she was repeating what was custom for most clans, rather than the eulogy that was unique to Floukru.

Still, it hadn't felt like enough. Not by a long shot.

But Nyko seemed like the type who would understand.

His last request had been floating around in Raven's head all week. He had wanted her to be kind to Luna and she was endeavoring to do just that, but only partially because it was a dying man's wish.

She was hard not to be kind to.

Luna fingered the chess piece in her hand - the queen - before placing it on the board. "I'd known him a long time."

"Yeah, he said that." Luna's eyes flickered to hers momentarily at this before returning to her task. "He also said that you knew him from before all this. That he used to look after you when you were sick. As a kid."

The amused smile that creased her face momentarily was too bitter to be soft. "'Sick' is one word for it. But it was rare that any of our illnesses were natural. I knew him outside of that, though. He was my uncle."

Raven blinked. "Huh. Somehow he failed to mention that."

"Respecting my privacy, probably." Luna's attention was wholly focused on what she was doing, not sparing her a glance as she went about her task. "Blood ties aren't given much importance in my culture. Individuals and family matter less than the collective. Duty always comes first. The good of the many, rather than the good of the few. Attachment, even between family members, is frowned upon. In theory, anyway." She heaved a shrug. "Reality is always different."

"Sounds harsh."

Not that Raven could really talk.

Her own culture was equally as fucked. Abby had turned her husband in to be floated because she thought it would serve the Ark better, and she was hardly a rare example. Octavia's mother had been executed for the crime of having a child; Murphy's father had been killed for daring to save his son's life; and they'd locked Octavia up, for God's sakes, sentenced her to possible death, just for being born. . .

Survival is a cruel master.

"It's worse for a nightblood," Luna murmured. "We're meant to forsake all family ties completely. The clans become our children, and our duty and love must be reserved for them alone. But it's a distant love. Never so close as to actually form a connection with any one person or clan." She smiled wryly. "Lexa and I failed at that. Obviously."

Raven watched, feeling somewhat useless, as she continued to set up the board. It surprised her to see that Luna clearly knew what she was doing, that she must have done this before - though, maybe it shouldn't have, she just had a tendency to see Grounders as primitive, at least compared to her own people. Raven had a general distaste for anyone who didn't love technology as much as she did, or even know how to use it.

(though, A.L.I.E. was certainly making her rethink that love. Maybe the Grounders had had the right idea, after all)

Nor did she possess any desire to learn more about the civilization that had taken Finn from her.

Or, at least, she hadn't.

Luna glanced up at her, interrupting the train of her thoughts. "Do you know how to play?"

A little late to ask now.

But maybe she wasn't all that interested in the answer and was just using it as a deflection. Raven could understand that.

She nodded and Luna twisted the board around so that the white pieces were facing her. "I've always played black, I hope you don't mind."

"Uh, I get to go first - why the fuck would I mind?" She moved a pawn forward two spaces; because, apparently, that was what they were doing - playing chess. "I didn't think Grounders would have much use for this."

Luna shrugged, making her own move. "Most don't. But it teaches strategy so it was a part of my lessons as a novitiate. We would craft the board and pieces ourselves. But I couldn't take mine with me when I fled. I made another one a few years ago, Adria and some of the other children liked to play once I taught them how." She cocked her head to the side. "But I left it behind on the oil rig."

Ouch.

Attempting to avoid Luna's plethora of wounds was like stumbling around on a minefield, blindfolded.

She didn't know if it made it better or worse that Luna didn't seem to mind whenever she triggered an explosion.

Time for a subject change.

"Fair warning, I'm kind of a badass at this game." Raven moved another piece, stomach twisting when she caught the faint smirk playing at Luna's lips.

"Good. So am I. That means it will be a challenge." She didn't hesitate before choosing another pawn. "Though I could rarely beat Lexa. This was one arena in which she always reigned supreme." Her mouth twisted slightly. Raven didn't want to call it a pout but. . .

It was most definitely a pout.

She snorted and picked up her horse. "You don't like to lose."

Luna chuckled. "I once threw a bishop at Lexa's head when she beat me four times in a row. I like to think I've gotten better at accepting loss since then, though."

Raven hesitated, looking from the board to Luna and back again. "You're not going to throw anything at me, are you?"

She ducked her head, hair falling into place to cover her smile but not before Raven caught its entrance. "I suppose that depends on how good you are."

She groaned. "I'm gonna get a chessboard to the head."

Luna let out a surprised chuckle. "I wouldn't worry. I have a far greater rein on my temper these days. And it's unlikely that you'll win, anyway."

Raven sputtered. "'Unlikely?' I'll have you know-"

"One of my lessons involved carrying out a game with one novitiate whilst engaging in a physical fight with another. I broke two ribs and nearly lost an eye but I still won on both counts." She looked downright smug about it, too.

Raven stared at her. "You're joking."

"I'm really not." Luna smiled. "'It's important to maintain focus and a level head, even in the midst of battle'," she quoted with an almost imperceptible roll of the eyes. "Titus was very proud of that lesson. Though, I think part of it was down to the fact that he got to whack me with a stick during stage one every time my attention wavered."

Raven made a noise. "Titus sounds like a dick."

She shrugged, not looking up as she pondered her next move. "He was much better at handling books than children. But my brother and I used to play tricks on him so we earned a special place in his disregard."

Luna finally decided on a move and, of course, it was a good one, taking out one of her castles.

Okay, so she knew how to play.

Raven used her horse to demolish one of her pawns in retaliation.

"Right, brother. You mentioned him before. Is he still. . .?" She wondered whether he'd been living on the oil rig, too. Hoped not, considering what had happened to all those who had.

Luna shook her head but kept her eyes focused on the board, toying with her castle a little longer than necessary before moving it forward. "No. My brother was a nightblood like me. We were twins."

"Oh." Raven had assumed he was dead the first time she'd mentioned him but had still kind of hoped for the opposite.

Somewhat distractedly, she stumbled through her next move, picking a pawn at random.

Luna watched her closely. "Did Clarke or John tell you what happened at my Conclave?"

"I don't even know what a conclave is." Not entirely true. She knew the definition of the word. That it could be a meeting or gathering, often of great import, and that it had been used to elect popes in the past, back when Christianity and the church were still a major thing.

And she'd heard the word thrown around once or twice in the past couple of months, knew it had something to do with being a nightblood, but beyond that? She hadn't a clue.

To be honest, the ceremony or practice or whatever it was, hadn't really interested her.

Very little about the Grounders did.

Until she met Luna.

"Consider that a blessing," Luna muttered, moving one of her bishops forward and taking out the pawn Raven had just chosen.

She grimaced a little. "It's a religious thing, right?"

Luna cocked her head to the side, considering that. "I suppose you could call it that. The Fleimkepas do worship the Flame like it's a religion. Most of our people do, in fact. Though, some are much less reverent, like Azgeda."

So if it had to do with the Flame, and Conclaves were traditionally used to decide on the head of the church then. . . "It's how you elect the Commander?"

She nodded and, feeling slightly victorious in this, Raven moved her horse to take out the bishop.

Luna's mouth twisted a little in displeasure. "It's the last lesson one faces as a nightblood. The final test. But only one can pass."

Raven frowned, watching as she toyed with her remaining bishop. "What do you mean?"

"It's a fight to the death."

That stopped her short. "Between. . .?"

"The novitiates. The ones who are old enough, anyway. Or what our people consider to be old enough." Luna shook her head in derision, moved the bishop forward three squares.

Raven studied the board, trying to detect a reason for the move but couldn't find one. "When you say 'fight to the death'. . ."

"It's exactly as it sounds. Only one novitiate can survive - by killing the others. That's the price of receiving the Flame. Of becoming Commander."

Her tone was far too casual for what it was they were discussing.

Murder. Of children. By Children.

Raven closed her eyes, next move forgotten. "They make you kill each other?"

"Yes." Luna's expression didn't flicker, no trace of emotion marring her face.

It was unsettling. She wondered whether Luna really didn't feel anything whilst talking about this, or whether she felt too much and was just better at hiding it than most.

With all Raven had witnessed in the woman since the day they'd met, she knew it was the latter.

She might have to get Luna to teach her that skill.

Her hand hesitated on another pawn. She couldn't think through her next move. Could barely think at all. "That's why you ran away."

And also probably one of the reasons why she'd refused to take the Flame when they'd gone to her for help. Raven wouldn't want that thing anywhere near her, either, knowing its history and, as Luna said, the price of receiving it.

Though, she still didn't really approve of that decision. The fight against A.L.I.E. would have been a hell of a lot quicker if Luna had just taken the Flame.

And less bloody, too.

Probably.

Luna nodded. "Yes."

Raven pushed the pawn forward, barely even looking at the board.

Luna took a breath, focusing on the pieces before her. Raven thought it might have just been an excuse not to meet her eyes, though. "I fled my Conclave. But not before killing my brother in the first round."

She glanced up then, taking in Raven's horrified silence. Her lips twitched up in a humorless smile. "See. I told you I had no right to judge you."

She obliterated her horse in a single move.

Raven barely noticed.

('I don't respond well to being forced into things. That usually ends with me having to kill someone, often someone I love.')

She stared at her. "I'm sorry."

Luna frowned a little. "Why? I'm not the one who died."

Why?

Because being raised to participate in some demented twist of a gladiatorial battle was fucked up, that was why! Because even on the Ark, they hadn't sunk that low.

But she had a feeling Luna knew exactly how fucked up it was. Why else would she have run?

Raven swallowed. "How old were you?"

"My brother and I were thirteen. The eldest. Lexa was twelve."

She sputtered. "You killed your brother when you were thirteen?"

Luna nodded carelessly. "It's your move, Raven."

She blinked. Huh?

Luna nodded down at the board.

Oh, right. They were supposed to be playing chess. Though, how the fuck either of them was meant to concentrate on that right now was beyond her.

Then again, Luna seemed to be managing it okay.

Maybe it wasn't her blood that made her superhuman.

Shaking her head, Raven picked up another pawn at random. Barely looked to see where she put it down.

Luna watched her actions carefully but seemed even more interested in the flickering of expressions upon her face, as if she was preparing herself for a certain kind of reaction.

Judgment, maybe?

Or disgust?

Luna had taken her time in telling Raven this, time that she clearly hadn't afforded to Clarke or Murphy. Which suggested that Raven's response mattered to her, that perhaps she was even wary of it.

Well, Raven felt plenty of disgust - and judgment. But none of it directed at Luna. So if that was what she was looking for, Raven sure as hell wasn't going to provide.

She cleared her throat. "What was his name?"

Luna looked slightly thrown by the question - a perceptible crack in her demeanor - and Raven wondered whether it was something anyone had ever bothered to ask before.

She wet her lips, hesitating on the answer. "Sol."

Raven made a noise. Of course. "Like the sun."

Latin.

Did Grounders read Latin? Did they even read at all?

Possibly. Luna had mentioned the language earlier when they were having lunch. And she'd said something about Titus and books so. . .

Raven was beginning to think that her lack of interest in Luna's culture was a misstep on her part. She was feeling kind of behind, struggling to catch up to a worldview that was completely foreign to her.

She was used to being prepared. Having at least most of the answers if not all of them. She was used to knowing her shit.

But she didn't know shit about the Grounders, or what Luna's life could have been like.

Until now.

The surprise in Luna's eyes grew at her insight and she smiled a little. "Yes."

Raven remembered the tender way she'd touched the scar her brother had given her. She wondered suddenly if that was the only thing Luna had to remember him by.

It was macabre.

They proceeded through the next three rounds in silence before Luna spoke again.

"Nyko helped me after I ran away." Raven blinked, once again thrown by the subject change. Right. Nyko. The reason they were having this conversation in the first place. "He shouldn't have, but he did. I could never repay him for that." Luna squeezed the pawn in her hand a moment. "And now that he's dead, I suppose I never will."

Well, shit.

Seeming to read the direction of her thoughts, Luna shook her head. "It's okay. We weren't close."

Raven very much doubted that. The interactions she'd seen between them conveyed nothing but closeness.

Either, Luna was trying to disconnect herself from the hurt of that, from feeling the full extent of his loss, or she was attempting to downplay her pain in order to make Raven feel better.

With all she knew about Luna so far, she had a sneaking suspicion it was more likely to be the latter.

"Yeah, you were."

Luna faltered slightly in the process of picking up her bishop. "Maybe. But we rarely saw each other. His absence from my life is something I'm more than used to." She put the bishop back down. "I loved him. But I can live without him."

Didn't mean it didn't still fucking hurt.

Just because you could live without someone didn't mean you wanted to, or that it was easy.

"Why were you guys so close?"

"My father was his brother," Luna started. Raven furrowed her brow, listening closely. "But as I said, family relations matter very little to a nightblood. Or, at least," she smiled somewhat wryly "that's the way it's supposed to be. Real life doesn't always work out like that." Her smile grew when she saw Raven move her horse and, fuck, now she felt like she'd made a mistake. "I barely interacted with him as a child. Though, he did patch up more than a few of my injuries - just as he told you." She shrugged. "I think he felt a duty to me because of my father."

"What happened to your father?"

She studied the board a moment. "He won his Conclave. Became Commander. For a while."

So. Dead.

"And your mother?" She was almost afraid to ask.

"She died from complications brought about by our birth." Her head tilted to the side, thoughtful. "Perhaps that was another reason Nyko wanted to help me." At Raven's questioning look, "He was there, delivered us. But he couldn't help her. Couldn't save her."

And the hits just kept coming. Raven blinked. "I'm sorry."

It felt entirely inadequate but Luna gave another shrug, seemingly unbothered.

Unlike before when they were talking about Nyko's death, Raven felt slightly more confident that this particular display of nonchalance, at least, was genuine.

"I don't feel one way or the other about it. She was a nightblood, so she likely would have died soon anyway. They held a Conclave a week after I was born. I never would have been allowed to have her in my life, regardless. That's how it works. Dead or alive, nightblood or no nightblood, she would always have been a stranger to me." Luna hesitated. "Though, I'm not sure her death was a worthy trade, considering the fate of her children. The world is better off without more nightbloods."

"That's not true," Raven interjected with a frown. "I mean, just look at what we're dealing with now. Your blood might be the only thing that can save all of us. That's point one for nightbloods in my book."

Luna's expression was unmoved.

"I think you would feel differently if you understood the price that comes with having this blood. Lived it." Raven opened her mouth to protest, but she continued. "But Nyko would have agreed with you. He had that same view of things."

"You said he helped you after you ran away?"

Luna nodded. "He sheltered me after I fled my Conclave. I had nowhere to go, by law he should have turned me over to the Fleimkepas to face punishment but he hid me for weeks. Gave me supplies. And later he. . ." She shook her head. "Well, I've always been able to rely upon him in times of need. It's why I sought him out when my clan started dying. I didn't want to come to you for help. Not after everything that had happened the last time our people crossed paths." Her eyes lifted, connecting with Raven's. "But he told me you could be trusted."

"We can be," Raven promised. "I'm sorry we couldn't save your people. If there'd been a way. . ." She thought of the medicine that she'd refused to spare. She couldn't regret it. Logically, it had been the smart thing to do. And she knew, knew it wouldn't have been of any help to them. But she still felt terrible about it. Especially looking at Luna now.

But Luna shook her head. "That wasn't your fault. If anything, it was mine. If I hadn't isolated them out at sea with only fish to survive on. . . they never would have gotten sick in the first place."

Oh hell, not this again.

Raven rolled her eyes. "And if I hadn't helped to destroy A.L.L.I.E., maybe nobody would be getting sick or we'd all be living it up in the City of Light. Don't play the 'what if' game with me, I'm also someone who hates to lose and I will beat you."

Luna's smile was faint but real. "I think you made the right decision in regards to A.L.I.E. What she did to my people. . ." Her lips parted a moment as she gazed down at the piece in her hand. "They slaughtered each other. They would have cut Adria's throat, a girl many of them had known since she was a small child. They tortured me, and Derrick. . ." She shook her head, face a mask of disbelief. "Something that can do that to someone, can never be allowed to exist. Forcing people to kill the ones they love. . ." Another shake of her head, this one more adamant, decided. "I've fought against a world in which that happens ever since I was thirteen." She offered Raven a small smile. "You did the right thing. At least, from where I'm sitting."

Raven smiled back, appreciating that. It would be a lie to say she had no conflict over the choice. That she hadn't wondered. Especially when she'd had to stand by and watch a little girl die in agony, incapable of doing anything to help her. But then all she had to do was remember the scars on her arms, the ticking clock in her head, hastily counting down to zero. And the conflict left.

"I know." She frowned. "Honestly, being under A.L.I.E.'s control isn't something I'll ever forget. I wouldn't wish that experience on my worst enemy."

Luna hesitated. "Were you aware the entire time?"

She seemed almost afraid of the answer and Raven thought back to what Bellamy and Jasper had told her about what happened on that oil rig. What Luna had been forced to do to her own people. She shook her head. "I was aware, but I wasn't me. At the time, I actually felt good. It's the aftermath that's hard to swallow." She offered a smile she hoped was comforting. "I don't think your people suffered, Luna. They never had the chance. They were still under her control when they died."

Luna took a breath, not looking entirely convinced, but nodded, returning the smile, albeit weakly. The gratefulness in her eyes, however, shone through. "Thankyou, Raven."

She resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand. "It's the truth."

Luna's smile twitched, becoming fuller for a moment before she exhaled, gaze returning to the board. "I feel bad for beating you now."

Raven snorted. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves-" then her eyes caught the castle Luna was moving, widening at where she placed it. She searched around for a possible error or escape route. "What the fuck?"

"You got distracted." The smile on Luna's face had become small again but there was a glimmer of amusement to it now, a playfulness. "Checkmate."

Raven narrowed her eyes. "Did you just share a bunch of tragic backstory in order to win a game of chess?"

Luna's smile grew. "I did warn you that I hate to lose. What I may have failed to mention is that I was always considered the most ruthless of the novitiates."

Raven continued to stare at her in disbelief.

She shrugged. "People tend to underestimate me. I've learnt to use that to my advantage."

That sparked something inside Raven. She'd experienced the very same thing for most of her life.

That didn't make Luna's smug smile any easier to bear, though.

"You're welcome to try the same tactic on me in the future," she said breezily, eyes twinkling. "Share your pain."

Raven narrowed her eyes. "Why do I feel like you're trying to trick me into some Grounder version of therapy?"

"Maybe because I am."

Her eyes narrowed further. Unbelievable. "You're kind of diabolical, you know."

"It's been said."

Somehow, she had no trouble believing that.

Luna didn't stop smiling for the next ten minutes and Raven hated how it made losing the game of chess seem worth it.

She hated to lose.

But she didn't mind losing to Luna.

Fuck.

It was then Raven realized that Luna had somehow managed to distract her from her quest to save humanity for almost a full hour.

Double fuck.

It was becoming increasingly clear that Luna was more dangerous than she'd first assumed.

Chapter Text

"There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle."

— Pablo Neruda

Things between Raven and Luna had been. . . different since the chess match. Distant, in a way. When they spoke, she got the vague impression that Raven didn't entirely know what to say to her. Sometimes she would look up and find Raven watching her, only to be met by the whip of her ponytail as she quickly turned away.

Luna wished she could chalk it up to wounded pride, residual irritation over having been outmaneuvered - she was used to such responses from her childhood - but she knew the real reason lay in far more troubling waters.

"You're still struggling with what I told you about the Conclave," Luna murmured on the second day of these proceedings, for once her patience failing her.

She'd resolved to let things fall how they may, to give Raven time to come to terms with what she'd heard, but the atmosphere of the lab was getting to her. The stark lights - brighter than anything Luna had ever encountered - blaring all night and all day, threw her into a surreal world that existed without either. She kept herself from Abby and Jackson, too out of sorts to endure the many conversations that only ever seemed to revolve around her blood.

The constant reminder of the black in her veins was. . . excruciating.

Back at the mansion, she felt like an interloper, an alien playing at a life that hadn't existed for almost a hundred years. Everything in that house was as clean and sterile as the lab, everything had its place. When Luna wandered its halls, she felt the distance of the sea and her former life surround her, press in on her. Emori and John kept to themselves, seeming to have no interest in her or any of the other occupants on the island, so she gave them their space. Luna would not intrude on what might just be their final moments on this earth.

But it expanded the gaping hole of loneliness inside her, sharpening the ache of all that was missing from her life.

For years, her days had been full of people, of love. Space was a luxury not often found on the oil rig and whilst that had been difficult to adjust to at first, over time she'd grown accustomed to it - reliant on it, even. She was used to turning corners and being overwhelmed by the presence of others: the cacophony of shouts and laughter; dancing out of the way as children dashed past, blind to all in their path; waking to Adria's face hovering over her, impatient for her company; and falling asleep to the heavy chorus of over fifty breaths, comforted by the reminder of the safety and peace she'd found - the love.

There was none of that here. Her life, which had once been so full, now felt devastatingly empty. She could feel the gaping holes in the fabric of it and tried not to fall through them as she tiptoed along the precarious remains - the skeleton of her existence.

It was hard to grasp - how quickly it had all changed. Within the single phase of a moon, everything had been lost. Irrevocably so.

(should she not be used to that by now, though? Had she not suffered the same after her Conclave? She had grown complacent during her time in Floukru, forgetting the transience of things, how unstable the material of her world really was.

She would not make that mistake again)

Luna often found herself losing time. The world drifting away as thoughts of her family and friends filled her mind. She felt the press of Adria's hug and would blink at its passing, reorienting herself to find that hours had passed and she couldn't account for any of them.

It was too much like life in the first years after her Conclave and it unsettled something inside her, made her tense when she wished only to be fluid.

The only person who calmed that feeling, who made Luna feel like she was exactly where she was supposed to be, was Raven.

And recently she had sensed her pulling away.

Luna couldn't blame her for that.

Fratricide was an ugly thing to contend with.

Just because she had grown accustomed to that aspect of herself didn't mean everyone else would - or could.

Normally, Luna didn't care what people thought of her. She'd been deflecting the opinions of others all her life and they had only grown more brutal since she'd forsaken her 'divine' duty.

She'd learnt to weather it. To be unmoved by the judgments cast upon her by people who could never understand the choice she'd made - the cost and necessity of it.

The only person's opinion Luna valued was her own. She trusted no others. To do so might lead her into that treacherous sea that had nearly destroyed her life when she was thirteen.

But Raven was different.

She didn't know entirely why but. . . she was.

Luna cared what she thought of her.

But mostly she wanted things to return to how they'd been. To the easiness that had flowed between them. The reassuring familiarity that logically shouldn't exist - not with someone she'd only known for a couple of weeks - but did.

She felt comfortable in Raven's presence.

Right now, it was the only place she felt comfortable.

Raven blinked, looking up from her tablet, startled. "What?"

"What I told you the other day - you're struggling with it," Luna murmured, placing another plate of mystery bird on the table beside them, before hefting herself up onto the unforgiving surface to take a seat.

It was more comfortable than the chairs.

Raven narrowed her eyes at the plate, suspicion plain.

"You haven't eaten today," Luna said, as though she needed an explanation. Raven was more aware than her of her lack of self-care.

"You're really taking this whole Ravensitting thing to heart," Raven grumbled, reluctantly reaching for the fork.

( 'You don't have to worry about me. . .')

Luna wondered who it was in Raven's life that had made other people's care feel like an affliction, or something she should reject for the sake of her heart.

Who had taught her that what she could do was more important than who she was? That her abilities and what she could achieve with them mattered more than her life, or her happiness?

Luna had received that lesson, too, and it had taken her half a lifetime to discard.

"No. I just don't like to see anybody starve when I can help it."

It was a throwaway comment but Raven stiffened slightly. "Right."

Luna frowned. She hadn't meant to evoke memories of the conversation they'd had on the dock - that wasn't the story she wished to address today.

Raven shook her head, taking a bite of the questionable meat and chewing aggressively.

She ate too fast but Luna resisted the urge to counsel against it.

It was something she'd been guilty of herself in youth. As a novitiate, they'd been trained to eat everything that was presented to them within a set time - if they did not achieve this, they were denied their next meal. A powerplay, meant to instil ultimate obedience. As they got older and were allowed more freedom and independence - were given more trust - such restrictions ceased.

After her Conclave, when she was on her own, she'd often gone hungry. When Luna did get her hands on food, she'd been incapable of slowing her pace, seeking only to quench the burning in her gut as quickly as possible.

She suspected a different reasoning for Raven, however.

Raven ate like her body's need for sustenance was an unfortunate liability that got in the way of whatever task she'd set for herself. The sooner it was over with, the sooner she could return to more important things. Or what she felt was more important.

It saddened Luna, especially now that she was aware of how little life Raven had left to live. She didn't want to see her race through it.

"I guess I just don't understand why," Raven mumbled after a time.

Her brow furrowed at the remark. "Why I killed him?"

She supposed it would seem strange - even incomprehensible - to an outsider. To someone who hadn't grown up with their traditions, their way of thinking.

When Luna spoke of her brother to her people, the question was always 'why did you run?', not 'why did you kill him?'. They could understand the second, the first was an exercise in mystery. Uncharted territory.

But she could explain it to Raven, if that was what she was struggling with.

Or she could strive to.

"No," Raven said, putting her fork down with such force it took everything in Luna not to flinch. The crash of metal was familiar in a horrible way, her veins singing with longing for the press of unforgiving iron in her hand. "Why it exists. It's crazy, it doesn't make any logistical long-term sense. It's just ..." she flailed a moment, lost for words, "cruel. And wasteful."

Oh.

Again, she had to remember that Raven hadn't grown up in her world, had none of the history or traditions to call upon to explain something so inexplicable.

Luna's shoulders came to rest again, the tension leaving her spine. "There's a reason for everything we do."

Raven raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Even this?"

"Even this."

She'd never struggled to understand why the universe had put her in such an impossible situation, why her people thought forcing children to slaughter each other was the best path for survival. She'd been taught the reason - the many reasons - from birth.

She just didn't think those reasons were a justification, or a vindication for the terrible tradition to continue.

Raven narrowed her eyes, considering that. "Explain it to me."

Where to start?

Luna traced a scuff mark on the table, a new addition from their time here.

How did you condense thirteen years of teaching into a single conversation?

She took a breath, folding her hands in her lap. "You understand what a Conclave is now?"

Raven nodded. "Yeah. A little too well."

Alright. She'd never had to do this before. Explain something that was common knowledge to everyone she'd ever lived alongside. But she would try.

"The Conclave wasn't always a fight to the death. Defeating your opponent was the only requirement. But it caused. . . troubles with the succession." That was putting it mildly. "Some natblidas who failed to become Commander later tried to gain the title regardless, or crafted themselves a leader in their own right; that's how Azgeda - the Ice Nation - was formed." And they'd held onto the belief that they were the rightful claimants to the throne in Polis all through the years, fueled by injustices committed against them in the early days of the clans. "The succession wars were out of control and it made things unstable, too unstable for long-term survival. That's when they decided to make it a fight to the death. If there was only one nightblood at a time of ruling age, then there would be no more contention for the throne. Hundreds, possibly thousands died during those wars. Some clans ceased to be entirely." She exhaled, mouth twisting. "We're so terrified of reliving such a fate that we'll slaughter children to ward against it."

And it had worked. Whilst peace was still a foreign concept to her people, the dark days of their beginning were no less so. War may be a constant they couldn't shake - though, less so since Lexa had ascended to the throne - but it hadn't threatened to obliterate them all for generations.

Progress had been made.

They'd just bought that progress with the lives of children.

To Luna, that was a bitter exchange she couldn't find it in her to forgive.

Raven bit her lip, turning the information over in her thoughts.

Luna waited for her to form her own conclusions. She wouldn't influence them.

"That actually makes a sort of sense," she decided finally, with no small amount of reluctance. Her face was marked by a grimace, as if she'd had to heave rocks out of her mouth instead of words.

"It does." Luna shrugged, unfolding her hands to place them on the table at her sides, more at ease with the conversation - now that she knew where it was going. "I understand the reasoning behind the decision. But it can never justify the cost of it, the hundreds of children they've sacrificed. What they did to us."

Just because there was a good reason for doing something didn't mean it should be done.

Luna would never get back what they'd taken from her. Nor would she ever be able to return what she'd taken from others.

They had made her both a victim and a perpetrator and she'd been struggling to navigate that crushing limbo ever since.

Raven's gaze hardened. "No. It doesn't."

She would be one of the few to think so, to share Luna's view.

Perhaps that was to be expected, considering their contrasting cultures. But, then, Raven's hadn't survived without its own form of ruthlessness. There were things about the Ark that shocked even Luna - and her people had made a murderer of her before she'd even encountered puberty.

Raven hesitated a moment before reaching out and touching her hand. It was a light hold, without pressure or insistence, but Luna's skin lit up under the touch, coming alive in ways it now only seemed to when stealing Raven's warmth.

That sensation had grounded Luna when she'd entered the daunting realm of teaching her how to meditate. She was used to being keenly attuned to every aspect of her body, to feeling the full extent of her nerves as they danced off her surroundings, sung the song of her internal functions. She'd hated that to begin with but, as with most things, she'd made peace with it, even come to enjoy it.

But in recent weeks something had been off. Her body didn't feel. . . right. It didn't feel like hers anymore. It carried that same foreign element indicative of the years after her brother's death when she'd been fighting to grow into the skin that was at once too loose and too tight.

Sometimes, things were muted.

At others, her nerves quaked under the overwhelming onslaught of sensation.

But mostly it was the former.

Her body had become dull, still.

As had the world that contained it.

But the first time Raven had reached out to touch her, something had crackled to life. Her skin had itched before relaxing into a pleasant buzz that she still felt the echoes of even now - especially now, with Raven's hand inhabiting the space over hers.

She. . . had liked the feel of Raven's hand in hers, the tentative glide of her fingers across the skin of her ribs, how it made the breath of the sea fade out of her awareness.

She hadn't expected it. But Raven made a habit of surprising her.

It was nice.

Few things surprised her anymore and those that did were often terrible in nature. Raven's brand of surprise offered a change of pace that she could all too easily become accustomed to.

She would have to take pains to ensure that she didn't.

If the Sky People failed, Raven would join the sea of ghosts Luna was steadily becoming submerged in.

And even if they succeeded, she had a poison inside her mind that slowly worked to devour her.

Luna needed to harden herself against that possibility if she was to have any hope of surviving.

If she wanted to survive.

She wasn't so sure.

Doubtless, her instincts would decide for her - as they had a thousand times in the past. Whether she wanted to survive or not mattered little where her body was concerned.

It wanted to survive.

Or perhaps it wasn't her body at all but her very nature.

Her blood.

All her life, it had hungered to make her conscience as black as itself.

To rule her.

Except once.

Once, her blood, her instincts, her body had succumbed to her will. She had overpowered them.

For a moment.

Luna hadn't decided yet if that was a path she was willing to turn down again.

Much would depend on how events played out in the near future. On whether there would still be a world for her to survive in at the end of all this.

Whether it would be a world she wanted to survive in.

For now, she was content to let Raven take her hand, to open her palm and accept her touch, to hold her close.

She had so very few things to hold onto these days.

As it was, Luna had to fight not to turn her grip hard, to cling.

Things came and they went, she couldn't stall that process. All the times she'd tried, she'd only brought about greater agony for herself.

When she would feel the urge to hold on, she let go.

Let the desperation flow through her fingers, departing.

If a thing was meant to be, it would be.

The flow of the universe would return it to her, or motion it to stay.

Everything else, she gave up to the sea.

"Think often on the swiftness with which the things that exist and that are coming into existence are swept past us and carried out of sight. For all substance is as a river in ceaseless flow, its activities ever changing and its causes subject to countless variations, and scarcely anything stable."

- Marcus Aurelius

"So should it be with persons; if you kiss your child, or brother, or friend . . . you must remind yourself that you love a mortal, and that nothing that you love is your very own; it is given you for the moment, not forever nor inseparably, but like a fig or a bunch of grapes at the appointed season of the year, and if you long for it in winter you are a fool. So too if you long for your son or your friend, when it is not given you to have him, know that you are longing for a fig in winter time."

- Epictetus

Chapter Text

"Compelled to become instruments of war, to kill and be killed, child soldiers are forced to give violent expression to the hatreds of adults."

- Olara Otunnu

The familiar texture of the bone needle in Luna's hand was comforting and with each passing of it through a loop she felt the tension bleed out of her. This needle was another gift from Adria's bag, though Luna recognized it as belonging to herself and knew the child had included it in her hasty packing for her sake.

She'd always been thoughtful like that.

Luna had found some snouspia about forty minutes from the mansion after her chess match with Raven. She'd needed some time to herself - out of the prison-like confines of either building - to clear her head and sort through the many feelings their conversation had managed to evoke. The ones related to her brother were well worn and easily dealt with - Luna let them pass through her unmolested, content to leave them be. Her grief over Nyko, however, was still raw and she'd needed the added help of fresh air to breathe through them. And, of course, she was newly awash with a wide range of conflicting emotions in response to the fact that Raven now knew the truth about her. In many ways, it was a relief but there was also a swirling of apprehension in her gut, accompanied by the heavy weight of loss.

She couldn't deny that it had been refreshing to be granted a certain level of anonymity with someone. Most of what Raven knew about her, she knew because Luna had told her. That was rare. Whilst most people had no real understanding of who she was as a person, they still possessed the knowledge of her history - that was hard to avoid when you'd ascended into infamy at only thirteen. Everyone knew about her brother, knew what she had done to him, even if they never spoke of it. That made things easier in a way. It dispensed with the necessary step of having to tell them herself. But she'd felt lighter during her conversations with Raven, without the added weight of her past bearing down on them. She'd only ever experienced that with Derrick and Adria. Derrick, who'd been so far removed from their people's politics and affairs that he hadn't even known there was a new Commander to begin with, let alone the events that had brought about her ascension. And Adria, still so young when she came into her care, had possessed only the vaguest of details about the Conclave - and none specific to Luna's own. But refreshing or not, it was no more than an illusion and she'd wanted Raven to know the truth.

She'd wanted Raven to know her.

Few people did.

All of them were gone now.

(but perhaps that was the price.

The price of knowing her)

Luna's fingers clenched a moment around the needle. She took a breath and threaded it through the last loop of the figure-eight she'd made, checking to ensure the resulting shape was the same size as the ones she'd made previously before pulling tight to make a knot.

The small nets she was working on - one for her and one for Raven - weren't strictly necessary, they could easily fish without them, but there was comfort to be found in the process of making them. A comfort she sorely needed right now.

Luna would have preferred to use spreading dogbane - it tended to achieve better results - but the snouspia would suffice. The plant was strong, flexible and didn't kink. It just wouldn't last as long. Then again, that wasn't a problem she need concern herself with. Not even spreading dogbane would be able to last through Praimfaya.

In spite of that last bitter truth, Luna was feeling optimistic about the coming venture.

Fishing would be a good excuse to get Raven out of the lab - hopefully for a full day - made easier by the fact that she had already offered to come along. Luna suspected that she hadn't entirely thought that through, in terms of how long the task would take her away from her 'duties', and she wasn't in a rush to enlighten her.

It would also be a relief to do something that had been routine in her old life. To break away from the surreal reality she inhabited now, surrounded by foreign elements. The Sky People appeared at home - both in the lab and the mansion - not seeming to mind the stark lights, sterile surfaces, and unwelcoming atmosphere. Both buildings were clean and functional - the mansion succeeding at also being quite comfortable - but they were not places to live. They were not homes. They were mausoleums, built to honor and preserve a dead and forgotten past.

Luna missed the oil rig, which her people had made their own, a dwelling that bled life and character.

And she missed the sea.

She missed hearing the crash of the waves as an eternal backdrop to her days and nights, the chorus of sea birds as they flew overhead or nested upon the rig, and the delighted cries of children in those rare moments a pod of dolphins danced through the air.

She even missed the Tower, though she could admit that she was in no state to bear the memories that walked its halls right now.

That was the home of the Commander-

and it had no place for her.

In truth, it never had.

But still. . .

She missed it.

Just as she missed everything else from her childhood. Even the things that hurt.

Some days, especially those.

"Before you mentioned something about being 'old enough' to compete in the Conclave. How old is old enough?"

Luna hid a grimace at the question.

Not old enough.

Not old enough at all.

"Eleven." She set the snouspia aside, wanting to give this conversation the full attention it deserved. Whilst she was more than adept at multitasking - her training had ensured that - it wasn't her preferred state of being. She wasn't a novitiate anymore, nor was she the Commander. There was no need to make things more difficult than they had to be. "Though, if you're a girl and you've had your munblod before then, you're also considered of age."

"Munblod?"

"Your period."

Raven raised a brow. "Little antiquated."

"Extremely." But so many of their traditions were. Not that old always meant bad. Sometimes there was wisdom in ancient views that couldn't be found in those newly born.

But this wasn't one of them.

Its existence came as little surprise, however, when her people placed such importance on reproduction. If pregnancy and childbirth weren't so harmful to a person's health - even carrying the risk of fatality - she suspected that young girls would be encouraged to fall pregnant the second they got their blood. But her people were practical if nothing else - at least in most things - and exposing a significant portion of their population to premature death and morbidity flew in the face of that. The months of pregnancy were also inconvenient when you relied upon women to make up half of your defense force. Most withdrew from fighting by the third trimester, though that wasn't always an option. Due to this, many strived to have no more than one or two pregnancies, some partaking in none at all, though often enough nature took its course - contraceptive methods weren't always effective and some had no knowledge of their existence in the first place.

They'd had no place in the Tower. Luna had only heard word of them years after she'd left - from poor Nyko, of all people. Much to her chagrin. 

In truth, she'd known embarrassingly little about what went into making a baby. Though that wouldn't have saved her if the Conclave had been even a year later.

Luna's own mother was only fourteen when she had her, the age all nightbloods were expected to start trying for children - if they were still alive and not possessed by the duties of Commandership. An attempt to strike a balance between not endangering the mother's health by inflicting pregnancy too early, and the knowledge that most nightbloods didn't survive past twelve, let alone make it to their twenties when pregnancy was considered to be much safer.

In some ways, the arrival of her Conclave when she was just thirteen had been a blessing.

The first time she'd awoken to a dark stain on her bedsheets, she'd panicked. Her limbs had seized up and for one traitorous moment she'd spiraled through a collection of half-formed plans to hide this catastrophic change in herself.

Until that day, Luna had been oblivious to her fear surrounding the Conclave. All her life, she'd known the trial was inevitable and had accepted it as such. Some days, she even longed for its arrival - if only to cancel out the torturous limbo she found herself in. Spending every moment of your existence waiting for such a terrible and momentous moment was almost as excruciating as the moment itself.

But she hadn't known she was afraid.

Hadn't known that she dreaded that moment's arrival.

Not until she was shaking, stomach turning at the sensation of sticky wet heat, clotting her thighs.

It seemed there was nothing in life her blood did not decide.

Costia had taken her hand, held it tight as she led her over to the grand basin that served as a bath for the novitiates. The rest of the dorm had still been sleeping, except Sol - always so attuned to her every move, every shift in mood - and Lexa, who noticed everything. Costia had ignored their concern and guided Luna into the bathtub, drawing the curtains shut as she poured in the near-boiling water - already prepared, as always at this time of day - and set to scrubbing her clean.

Dazed, she'd watched the normally clear liquid cloud over with black death as her life bled out of her.

It wasn't an unusual sight. Baths were a routine occurrence after a fight or punishment and Luna was used to washing away the blood of her friends and herself.

But this was different.

This time she hadn't been fighting.

This blood brought with it consequences.

"The Commander is strong," Costia said briskly, working her fingers through her hair, separating the tangles as only she knew how. "His spirit will fight on for many more years. This won't change that. This won't change anything."

Luna closed her eyes and allowed herself to be comforted.

She'd been right, as it turned out.

The Commander's spirit didn't leave until three years after that day.

Only, by then, she'd come to realize that was a curse and not a blessing.

If he had passed on within the first months after Luna had gotten her blood, she would have been forced to enter the Conclave.

But her brother, not yet eleven, and Lexa, only nine, would have been spared.

Likely, Luna would have died, not yet at the peak of her strength and skill.

But she also wouldn't have been faced with the ultimatum of killing the ones she loved most in order to survive.

Sol and Lexa would have lived. For however many years it took until the new Commander reached their end.

Even if they hadn't, Luna wouldn't have been forced to kill either one of them. She would not know what it was to drive a knife through her brother's ribcage, to hear the gurgle of blood bulging up his throat, out of his mouth, see-

Perhaps her munblod had been trying to save her from that ordeal, but fate hadn't ordained to assist it.

Luna pulled away from the memory of gentle hands in her hair, Costia's unfailing assurance, and centered herself with the feel of cold metal under her palms, the smell of freshly cooked meat permeating the sterile air.

Raven was waiting for her to continue.

She exhaled, pushing down the sense of loss. It had been years but she still felt the edges of the hole Costia's death had carved out in her life. "The reasoning is that if you're old enough to bear a child, you're old enough to lead."

Raven grunted. "And kill." Her tone was acidic, eyes flinty, and Luna knew she was still struggling with all that she'd been told about the Conclave.

It was a new experience. She'd never met anyone who had been shocked by what her people expected of their children.

"We start killing long before then." Luna shrugged and reached for the plate she'd discarded before first confronting Raven, her stomach too queasy to tackle it at the time. Even now, it protested at the smell that drew closer and closer, begging her to abandon this course of action. But Luna knew she needed the strength.

She hadn't yet regained all she'd lost from the radiation sickness and the regular depletion of blood wasn't helping her efforts to do so.

Raven stopped short, frowning at her words. "How old were you when you first killed someone?"

Luna blinked. "I. . . I don't know."

No-one had ever asked her that before.

"You don't know?"

"I can remember it. I'm just not sure of my age at the time."

Her memories rarely worked in a linear fashion. She never forgot a thing but often she failed to locate where a recollection stood upon the wheel of time. The years weren't as important as what happened within them. Sometimes, things got scrambled, rearranged.

"It was right after we each got a mentor," Luna said thoughtfully, "which happens around nine years of age."

She could be sure of that much. The ceremony had taken place months before the arrival of her first blood, perhaps even a year before.

And after it, they'd brought a retinue of prisoners - traitors - into Polis and lined them up in the square for all to see. The Fleimkepas had led the novitiates out of the Tower when the sun was just starting to sink below the moon, and instructed them to each pick a prisoner.

It would have been kinder if their victims had been assigned to them - if that choice, at least, was taken out of their hands - but the Fleimkepas had been insistent that this responsibility, also, must rest with them.

One day, they would hold the fates of so many more in their hands. Their lives, their deaths - and everything in between. A single prisoner could not compare to that, but it was a prudent place to start.

The square was crowded with her people, throngs of men, women, and children clustering for a view of what was to come. Public executions were not an anomaly but this one was ceremonious. It marked an important transition in a novitiate's life. Until that point, they'd been allowed to keep their hands relatively clean, but no more.

And citizens from every clan had gathered to witness the momentous occasion.

Luna clenched the trusted blade in her hand - her favorite - gripping it for strength as her turn drew closer. She and her brother were the oldest of the novitiates so they went first, Sol taking up the mantle before her.

She watched - both nervous and calculating - as her brother drew his blade across the throat of his chosen prisoner. Her mouth twisted; it wasn't how she would have done it. They weren't in battle, their victim was strung up, incapable of fighting, which meant they had a plethora of options available to bring about death.

The slicing of the throat was a messy, slow affair. At least, in the way he'd elected to do it.

She saw Sol's face pale when he realized this, staring at the sea of blood that poured out of the man as he continued to remain upright, eyes full with the clarity of life.

He hadn't applied enough pressure with the blade. Luna suspected he'd missed the trachea.

Patiently, she waited out the minutes as the blood steadily poured until the man began to sway. At last, he passed haltingly into unconsciousness but Luna could still make out the faltering rise and fall of his chest.

A few more minutes elapsed and then things were still.

Sol made his way back to the group, blade gleaming with the shiny red liquid that had always been absent from their training sessions - nightbloods bled black - and Luna stared at it, empty of feeling, almost transfixed.

It was her brother's hand brushing against hers as he passed - a brief show of support, or perhaps he'd been in search of comfort himself - that jolted her back into herself.

It was her turn.

Gripping her knife, she stepped forward, scanning the row of prisoners before she landed on a young woman, only just out of the cusp of childhood. Luna wondered what she'd done to end up here, what action had been so terrible that death was the only remedy. But such thoughts weren't hers to have. She was not Commander yet, she had no leave to discern whether or not someone was deserving of such a fate or to wonder at their crime. She had one duty right now and that was this.

The woman's long, knotted hair covered her face and it was this more than anything else that turned Luna's feet towards her.

She reached out and grabbed that hair, angling her face into the desired position. The woman didn't resist, not even out of instinct and Luna wet her lips. Hesitated.

What if she did it wrong?

"Luna!"

The Commander's bark stole her trepidation and she took a breath before striking out with all the strength she had. Her blade slashed along the side of the woman's throat, deep enough - Luna knew - to sever the thick artery she could see there, pulsing through the skin. She clutched the hair harder, turned the head again, and did the same to the other side of the neck.

Blood sprayed out, hitting Luna in the face.

She blinked, heart racing as her own blood throbbed, the sensation almost heady. Her limbs shook, a thrum of energy singing in her veins and she felt like she did in the thick of training, when a blow had at last gained her the upper hand.

She exhaled, working to rid herself of the intoxicating feeling as she watched the woman become limp and still. She wasn't dead yet but she'd passed into unconsciousness within seconds.

Her pain had been limited, Luna could be confident of that.

For a time, all she could do was stare.

Humans had the power to create life. But they could bestow death so much more easily. Almost too easily.

She hadn't known it would feel like this.

Luna turned away, forcing her jelly legs to carry her back to the throng of novitiates. She kept her gaze turned from Sol, deliberately positioned herself away from him, knowing he would see the thrill on her face, sense the change in her.

He never missed anything - not when it came to her.

But she wanted him to miss this.

Luna drew away from the memory, clenching her hands which had begun to tremble. Adrenaline.

She wished that the sensation was horrible, that the memory of her actions was enough to make her lunch riot in her stomach, but it wasn't.

She hadn't felt bad that day.

Far from it.

And that was the most horrifying part.

"'Mentor?'" Raven's brow furrowed and Luna was grateful for the reprieve. Her question presented a lifeline in the sea of memories and she grabbed hold of it eagerly.

"At around nine years of age, we each get a mentor. Warriors that have proved themselves as loyal and intelligent, possessing skills that far surpass their peers. Sol's mentor was Gustus. A capable warrior who'd served as bodyguard to three Commanders already." A burly man, body masked with tattoos, walked through her memory, and as he turned, she saw him bend over Costia, smiling indulgently as he allowed her to work complicated braids into his beard and adorn it with brightly colored flowers. "But I heard he was executed as a traitor this year."

A shocking revelation and one she still scrambled to understand.

The man she'd known was no traitor.

But then, neither was the girl who'd known him.

Not then.

It seemed life had swept them both away to impossible shores.

Raven grimaced. "Yeah, we met. Didn't exactly hit it off."

Luna eyed her, waiting for Raven to elaborate. She didn't, but the tight pull to her features and the way she'd suddenly grown tense - despite her best efforts - said much.

She filed the tells away, making a note to circle back to this at a later date. "You wouldn't have been the first. Gustus got along with few people and liked even less. But he was unique in that his loyalty was always to his charges over his clan. He could be extremely. . . protective." An understatement. She'd seen what he'd done to those who had threatened - or had the potential to threaten - those in his care. "He was always good with children, though. He had no patience for adults, but the children he liked. He used to sneak us treats all the time." Luna's mouth curled at the memory, the way her friends' faces had lit up with glee every time a tiny morsel was presented. Lexa, normally so subdued, would quake with pleasure, pretending that she didn't feel the excitement radiating from her tiny body. Gustus was one of the few who had looked at them and seen children instead of gods. "In a way, it made sense. His wife and children were slaughtered by a rival clan and he never formed a new family. I think he saw his charges as a kind of surrogate. He was determined to love and protect us, as he hadn't been able to do for his own children."

She hadn't thought about Gustus for years. Not until Lincoln had told her of his demise and, later, when Lexa had made an unexpected appearance in her life, searching for a solace that Luna hoped she had been able to provide - at least, in some small way. His death had saddened her, just as Anya's had. However, neither had been of any surprise. With their duties and the lives they led - death was all that could be expected. It was the manner of his death which she'd found so shocking, the reasoning for it.

But she knew the loss had shaken Lexa. Far more than the Commander had been able to admit, even to herself.

"Lexa's mentor was Anya. They were. . . very close."

Lexa, who hadn't had a family since she was three-years-old, had attached herself to Anya like a fly to honey. Luna knew that she'd viewed the woman almost as an older sister and she'd seen those feelings reflected in the hardened warrior who had come to be very protective of her little charge.

Luna had been sorry to hear of her death. Knew the grief it must have awakened in her former friend who she doubted had ever fully recovered from the blow of losing Costia.

There were very few people that Lexa allowed herself to care for and she had lost almost all of them.

Luna understood well the devastation of that.

"And yours?" Raven asked, face twisting at the mention of her childhood friend - as she'd noticed it always seemed to. There was a story there, one that she knew better than to poke at just yet.

Raven had set her own plate aside now and she was pleased to see that it had been picked clean.

"The Commander," Luna answered.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that even allowed? Feels like favoritism."

"It is. But it's not uncommon. Most Commanders have a favorite, a novitiate they focus more attention on than the others. Nyko told me that Lexa mentored Aden."

He'd been just a toddler when Luna last saw him, stumbling around the Tower's nursery. Now he was ash. They all were.

She hesitated. "Technically, nothing is decided until the Conclave. But the Commander and Fleimkepas always have an idea of who they think will ascend - who they want to ascend - and that influences things. They put their efforts towards that person, shaping them into the best possible candidate."

Her father had been the Commander in her early years but his spirit had fled before the time had come for her to receive a mentor. She wondered sometimes whether he would have picked her. She knew he'd admired her ruthlessness, just as the Commander after him had. But he'd also strived to keep a distance between them, likely for the sake of whatever remained of his heart.

He couldn't afford to become attached to her. To develop the feelings that a father should possess for their daughter.

It had been a mercy, in a way. She'd felt very little when death finally came for him.

Raven grunted at her words. "Doesn't seem fair."

"It's not. None of it is fair. But. . . there are certain qualities that are desired in a Heda and not all the novitiates have those qualities, no matter how skilled they are at fighting. So the Fleimkepas and Commander focus their attention on those who do, and do their best to hone them into the most accomplished fighters they can be. The Conclave is just a final trial in a long line of tests."

In a way, the weaker nightbloods were never expected to ascend. They functioned more as cannon fodder, an obstacle for the more worthy novitiates to overcome in order to prove themselves. They were a test. A sacrificial offering. All of the novitiates became attached to each other - indeed, it was encouraged - and the final test arrived when it came time to kill one another.

To kill the weak.

If you could. If you had the heart for it.

(life had proven more than once that she did)

But beyond this, it didn't matter how skilled a nightblood was, or how worthy they were to lead. None with the blood could be barred from entering the Conclave. So the Fleimkepas rounded up as many as they could and did their best to shape each and every one of them into an acceptable Commander, even the ones they didn't believe would ever ascend.

They preferred to plan for every eventuality.

Luna's mind wandered back to the boy - Oli - who had suffered from what she now understood to be seizures.

The boy who she'd awoken one morning to find staring dead-eyed at the ceiling, the rank smell of death clogging up the dorm.

Luna still wasn't sure if that had been the sickness or. . .

It was punishable by death to kill a nightblood outside of a Conclave. But she couldn't see the former Commander or Titus taking the risk of any with such an affliction ascending to the throne.

The people would have viewed him as weak and a weak leader would not be followed. It would have put the entire system in jeopardy. Likely, he would have been assassinated early on which meant that the nightbloods being cultivated to replace him wouldn't yet have had the chance to reach ruling age. Either, they would have had a child on the throne - at the very least, a younger child than what they were used to - or the clans might have descended into civil war - as they were seeing now in Polis with the precarious status of Roan's leadership.

No. Titus wouldn't have allowed it. Though, whether he'd had the chance to act or if the illness had simply beaten him to it would forever remain a mystery.

"Ontari was. . . an anomaly," Luna continued. One she was shocked to find out about. "Pains have been taken over the last few generations to ensure that no-one who ascends is unfit - or dangerous. But none who possess nightblood can be barred from the Conclave. Titus' hands were tied. The system is complicated and not without blindspots."

And many, many flaws.

That was how the Dark Commander had come into being and why the Fleimkepas had consequently turned all their energy in the years since to preventing such a horror from ever befalling their world again.

Nia hadn't cared for their fears.

But that was far from surprising. Everything Luna knew about the woman, all the encounters she'd had with her, left the impression that she'd been a queen without care for her people, only herself. Greed controlled her every thought and action.

And she'd spread that darkness to Ontari.

Luna's heart ached for the child that had found her way into Nia's cold care, who'd been warped and twisted by her hand - much as Luna had been warped and twisted by the Fleimkepas. But where they had striven to ensure that their charges retained all the humanity they could, Nia would doubtless have ripped out whatever traces of it she could find in Ontari.

The process would have been brutal, Luna had no doubt of that.

Costia - always the worldly one - had told her all she knew about how Azgeda crafted its most formidable soldiers, its royal guard.

It was a horrific process.

And Nia would have been no kinder to the nightblood she saw as her sure ticket to ultimate power.

Luna watched Raven a moment as she took in her words. "You couldn't understand why I so easily accepted your actions against Adria." Raven blinked, thrown by this veer in the conversation. "Do you understand now?"

She hoped so.

It was one of the main reasons she'd told her about the Conclave in the first place - and what she'd done to her brother.

She'd seen that Raven's guilt was still a burden for her and with everything else she had to carry, Luna had craved to lighten it. At the very least, she'd wanted to disabuse Raven of the notion that she was deserving of judgment - at least from her.

When she still didn't speak, Luna pressed on. "I can make the same decision you did, Raven. Easily. Too easily. It's what I was born for. But every time I've made it in the past, I've lost a part of myself. And I've worked so hard to get those parts back. But some will be lost forever." She took a breath. "Not making those choices is how I hold onto what parts I have left. But I won't judge you for something that I've done myself, especially when I know exactly how painful living with such a choice is." Luna's mouth curled in the semblance of a smile, though there was a bitter taste on her tongue. "Actually, I've done far worse. At least Adria would have died with whatever path you took. I don't have that comfort."

She'd robbed far too many people of their futures, of their options. The consequences of her actions were absolute, of that there was no doubt.

"So, what?" Raven's face scrunched up, not looking entirely happy. "You gave me a free pass because you've done worse? Not sure it works like that."

Luna shrugged. "Probably not. But it would have served neither of us for me to focus on such a technicality." She looked down. "Perhaps my response would have been different if your actions had harmed Adria. If there'd been any hope of saving her. But they didn't and there wasn't." It wasn't that simple, but her mind and emotions were a complicated chaos that even she struggled to parse through most days, moreso now. "Judging you wouldn't have gained me anything, Raven. It certainly wouldn't have brought Adria back."

She sighed, still not looking pleased but resigning herself to Luna's way of thinking. "I guess not."

Guilt was a complicated beast.

She thought of her first victim, the first time she had been forced to make such a choice.

It was funny. Luna could remember how it felt to slice that rabbit's throat more clearly than she could bring to life most of the people she'd killed.

She'd cried afterwards, in the safety of the novitiate's dorm, blanketed by the hold of Costia and Sol. They'd wrapped around her that night, protecting her from the darkness.

She hadn't cried so heavily again until the day she ran a knife through her brother's chest.

She'd been alone with her tears then.

Alone for days.

In the haze of shock, a part of her had thought that was right. That it was no less than she deserved.

But she'd still caved to Nyko's touch when it came, breaking in his arms.

Just because you thought you were undeserving of something, didn't mean you didn't desire it, that you could stop yourself from reaching out to accept it.

Luna extended a hand, placing it upon Raven's - as she'd done to her earlier.

Raven flinched slightly, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"I know you think that you deserve my anger for what you did to Adria," Luna started, "But it's not what you need. And it's not what I want to give."

Moral complexities aside, this she was sure of.

This was all that had mattered to her in the moment Raven told her the truth, and it was all that mattered to her now.

Luna would not let the darkness ruin whatever light she still contained, and she wouldn't let it ruin Raven either.

"Do you understand?"

Raven hesitated, eyes drifting back down to their hands. She took a breath and turned hers over, allowing Luna's to fall into it, for their fingers to tighten around one another. "Yeah. I understand."

Luna smiled.

It was a hard line to walk between compassion and contempt, hope and despair, grace and retribution, anger and serenity.

It always had been.

At least for her.

As a child, she'd been ruled by the darker side of things. Especially anger.

She'd done much in the years since then to stifle that part of herself, to channel those impulses into something more constructive, to grow outside the constraints of her darkness.

She thought she'd succeeded but. . .

She could feel it again. Hungry. More ravenous than it had ever been. Worse, a part of her yearned to give into it, to succumb to the dark.

Luna wasn't prepared to do that.

But the struggle was harder than it had ever been. Her anger was colder now, it lacked the fiery passion of her childhood. When she felt its tendrils grab hold, branch out inside her, her blood cooled, became as frozen and still as empty space.

It was harder to resist.

Perhaps because it was less an emotion and more a way of being. She didn't feel anger, she was possessed by it. It became the lens through which she viewed the world, the buds on her tongue with which she tasted life, and the ears with which she heard the cries of others. And this new anger was a stranger to her, pulling back her skin and making itself at home inside her bones.

She felt it less around Raven, though.

Not at first. But. . .

The memory of watching the gun become limp and useless on the ground, discarded for the sake of her freedom, clung to Luna. When the darkness rose, she closed her eyes and focused on that image, the same way she'd once focused on Nyko's hazy form settling in front of her, his arm wrapping around her, tethering her to the present; the weight of a blanket around her shoulders, driving away the cold. The memory of his kindness had seen her through many winters, had given her hope when there was none to be found.

And then Derrick. . .

She had so many ghosts living inside her head now and their acts of kindness no longer felt comforting but oppressive.

Raven was still alive, though.

For now, at least.

For the time being, her actions still possessed the ability to ease pain rather than strengthen it.

So Luna held onto them.

And to her.

She doubted Raven truly understood what it was exactly that she'd done that day. The significance of her action.

It was hard to comprehend what it was like to be given a choice when you'd been swimming in them all your life.

Luna had been forced to fight hard for the right to choose, to wrench that power out of the foundations of a world that refused to give it to her.

And she valued it more than anything else.

Even peace.

Because there could be no true peace without the freedom to choose.

That was what she believed. The one thing she would never doubt.

She squeezed Raven's hand and hoped that it provided some small payment for the gift she'd been given.

The returning squeeze she got back suggested that it might.

"We fight, we fall

Duty calls, it calls

Say we choose

But it's no choice at all

Duty calls it calls

Mercy, peace and justice

Cherish and protect us

Battle born they send us

Covered in our noble blood."

Noble Blood by  Tommee Profitt & Fleurie

Chapter Text

For the second time in five days, Raven awoke to the feeling of something soft on top of her. She blinked blearily, twisting to inspect the intrusion.

It was that damn coat again.

Grumbling, she threw the lecherous material off her and sat up, pretending she didn't feel the way her muscles protested at the demand.

Just like the first time, Luna was seated away from her, only now she was perched on top of a table, legs crossed as she meditated or prayed or whatever the hell it was she did.

How long had she been there?

Was she trying to make a habit out of watching her sleep?

Creepy.

Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach that wasn't altogether unpleasant, Raven stood up, tossing the jacket at the other woman. She caught it effortlessly, eyes shut. Not even a flicker of expression.

Show off.

"I take it you're still not cold."

Raven huffed, stretching out her spine. "I'm a Reyes - we don't get cold."

Or so her mother had told her every time she'd siphoned off the gas for their heater in exchange for some liquid treasure. Space was cold as hell and Raven had nearly gotten hypothermia a total of seven times as a result of that little trade.

Not that her mother seemed to care.

Luna frowned slightly. "Reyes?"

"It's my last name."

The confusion didn't settle.

Oh, right. Grounders didn't have last names.

"My family. Our ancestry, whatever." How the hell did you explain last names? "It's how we tell each other apart. Like, you know, with the whole kom Trikru, Azgeda thing. . ."

Sort of.

Maybe she should get a dictionary.

But then Luna's mouth twitched and Raven realized she was being had. "You know what last names are."

The other woman opened her eyes at last, mouth pressing into a smile. "I do. There are lots of things my people no longer have a use for but which we still possess knowledge of."

Well, she guessed that made sense. It hadn't even been a hundred years since civilization was blown away, that was a short as hell time to lose all remnants of knowledge and culture. Or, so Raven would assume.

She wasn't an anthropologist or whatever.

The Grounders were different from the Sky People. Where her own people had existed in a kind of space vacuum for ninety-seven years - frozen in time - those on earth had progressed, changed, altering themselves to fit their new reality.

Her distaste for their lack of technology aside, there was something rather impressive about that.

They'd adapted.

The Arkers hadn't.

"There are some clans that do still use surnames," Luna went on. "Generally the larger ones, where you need more than just a clan name to distinguish you. Boudalan for instance, have a tradition of naming all firstborn children Otana. Without last names to tell them apart, it would get very confusing." Her lips pulled in amusement and Raven snorted.

"Well, I guess that makes sense." There had been no other Ravens aboard the Ark. No other Reyeses either, except for her mother and a grandfather who had croaked it a year before she was born.

She knew that her family had originated from Mexico, back when there'd still been a Mexico, but she had no connection to that history. Her mother had never spoken of what came before, she'd never even spoken of her grandparents, so Mexico was as mythical to her as any other lost country on this godforsaken earth.

Tired of the conversation, Raven reached for the tablet she'd - once again - fallen asleep on. At this rate, she was going to get a permanent mark indented on her forehead.

There was a light thump and her eyes widened as Luna's jacket landed once more beside her - though, thankfully, not on top of her.

This time.

What the fuck was it with her and this fucking jacket?

This was the fifth instance in days Raven had been forced to fend off its advances like an unwanted suitor.

It was freaking stalking her!

"I'm not cold!"

Okay, she kind of was. The lab was kept at a constant cool temperature and, although Raven usually ran hot, her core temp tended to be lower when she slept.

That was the only reason she now had goosebumps climbing up her arms. They'd fade in a minute or so, but too late to avoid Luna's detection.

The other woman said nothing, closing her eyes once more as she returned to her meditation. "You have strik-maun."

"I have what?  Never mind." Raven huffed and heaved herself up, ignoring Luna's keen eyes as she stalked towards the lab's entrance. "I'll be back later."

When her fucking goosebumps had died down and she'd gained herself some more ammo to keep Luna at bay. She had a feeling the other woman got a kick out of this - maybe even saw it as playful banter - and normally Raven would have been right on board but her head was killing her, she was no closer to finding a solution to the missing barrel-

And the lab was starting to smell like rosemary.

Yeah, no.

She needed space.

"The end doesn't justify anything, because all we ever live with is the means."

- Nick Harkaway

As soon as the door swished shut behind her, Raven realized her mistake.

In her single-minded rush to escape the Grounder's smug presence, she had forgotten that it was she and not Luna who actually needed to be in the lab. How the fuck was she supposed to work now?

She'd even left her tablet on the table inside - and with it all the notes she'd been making. Not that they were proving to be of any help. No matter what way Raven turned their dilemma over in her head, she couldn't find a solution.

That didn't mean there wasn't one.

It just meant she hadn't found it yet.

She had to find it.

She was Raven Reyes. Finding solutions to other people's problems was kind of her thing.

She could do this.

Just not out here.

Groaning, Raven turned back towards the door.

Nope.

Not gonna happen.

Luna wasn't going to win that easily.

Huffing, she stalked off, deciding that it was about time she took more of a looksie at what else Becca had stuffed inside this underground scientist's wet dream.

She wasted half an hour doing just that - she even swiped a packet of nuts out of a disgruntled Murphy's hand to snack on for a minute or two - before boredom got the better of her and she dragged her feet back to the lab's entrance.

When she opened the door, Luna was exactly where she'd left her. Sitting on the table, eyes closed, meditating. She didn't look up at her entrance and Raven squinted, trying to determine if the other woman had fallen asleep on her again.

But no, her lips were moving faintly as her chest rose and fell too noticeably for sleep to be possible.

At least she wouldn't see Raven's flush of embarrassment as she reluctantly made her way back over to her chair, collecting the abandoned tablet and praying for some genius inspiration to finally strike.

If Luna wanted to help her out with that she could feel free. Swimming away had been her idea so she could obviously think outside the box.

But the Grounder did nothing to acknowledge her presence and, if she was anyone else, Raven might have thought she was annoyed with her for storming off. But that would be too petty for Luna and the relaxed set to her features cast the suspicion into even further doubt.

Sighing, Raven rolled her shoulders and settled in - refusing to admit that a part of her was disappointed by the lack of reaction.

Luna was annoying as hell but she was also. . .

Raven didn't know what she was.

Just that she made her heart race in the way working on machines used to, back before doing so had become a matter of life and death.

Luna's jacket was by her tablet and Raven knew she hadn't put it there. Scowling, she pointedly threw it several meters away, out of reach.

Hopefully, Luna would take the hint.

If she ever noticed Raven's existence again.

An hour later, there had been no change - who meditates for more than an hour? - and Raven had migrated over to one of the computers, typing away equations she knew in the end wouldn't prove at all helpful. But it was something to do and it made her feel useful.

She needed to feel useful.

After a time, she felt someone's eyes on her. There was only one person they could belong to since Raven hadn't heard the sound of the door opening since her arrival. She very deliberately kept her gaze focused on the screen, refusing to give in to the uncomfortable churning in her stomach.

"Can I ask you something?"

And she speaks!

Raven didn't spare Luna a glance but curiosity stirred inside her at the question. She couldn't think of anything the other woman might want to know from her. Raven had already spilled the beans about what happened with Adria. What other information did she possess that could be of any value?

It wasn't like Luna had an interest in mechanics.

It had to be something simple - like, say, where's the bathroom? - because her tone was easy, even nonchalant.

God, Luna better not be about to ask her if she was cold.

"Sure. Fire away." There was a minute of confused silence. "It means shoot - uh, go ahead."

A hum reached her ears and out of the corner of her gaze, she saw Luna lean forward slightly, watching her. "Would you really have let me leave that day?"

Raven's fingers fumbled a moment and she had to backspace to undo the gibberish she'd just typed out. There was no need to ask what day Luna was referring to. "Yep."

This answer was apparently unsatisfactory. "Why?"

Really? This was what she wanted to talk about?

Putting down that gun had felt pretty self-explanatory. Raven didn't see a need to pick her actions apart. Forcing Luna to stay hadn't been an option - not for her - so she hadn't.

It was as simple as that.

"Well, it's not like I could have stopped you after I put that gun down."

Of course, that skirted around the reason why she'd put the gun down in the first place but, really, what was she gonna do? Shoot her? Even if the shot didn't prove fatal - and that was never a guarantee when it came to bullets - for them to do what they wanted to do, Luna kind of needed to have all her blood inside her.

At least until it came time to take it out.

Raven grimaced.

No, shooting her had never been an option. She'd tried for intimidation but that hadn't worked either.

"Forget beating you in a hand-to-hand fight, I wouldn't even have been able to make it to you before you hopped on that boat."

"Why?"

"Um, well, I mean because of this. . ." She shifted awkwardly, moving to present her bad leg, wishing her cheeks didn't burn with the action-

"No, I mean why would you let me leave?"

Raven stopped, growing still. So they really did have to talk about this, huh?

Maybe she should have stayed out of the lab a little longer. But when she finally looked up, Luna was watching her patiently, expression vulnerable in its openness, and she could see from the intensity of her gaze that this mattered. To Luna, it mattered.

She needed the answer, even if Raven didn't feel particularly inclined to give it.

She exhaled, turning her chair to face the other woman fully. "Because I know what it's like to be used against your will for the survival of a people. I can't-won't do that to someone else."

Her leg screamed and she closed her eyes a moment, pretending she couldn't hear the deafening cry of a drill.

Silence reigned.

Her chest fell a little with relief at the fact that the other woman didn't ask for her to elaborate, didn't try to poke around in Raven's past to determine just what it was that had created this disturbing similarity between them. She couldn't speak of it. Not to Luna. Because Luna cared too much, and saw too much-

and Raven wasn't ready to let her see this.

With anyone else, she could keep things factual. Erect a wall around her that both fended off their concern and acted as a buffer against her own feelings.

But she didn't trust she'd be able to maintain that wall with Luna.

The woman was already steam-rolling past so many others.

Raven huffed, resisting the urge to spin her chair around like a child, if only so she could escape Luna's stare. "I can't treat people as a means to an end. I thought I could but I can't."

She wasn't sure if that was right or wrong but it was the truth. It was the decision she'd made. And she'd make it again.

Raven could sacrifice herself but she wouldn't- she couldn't sacrifice someone else. Not like that.

Even if it meant watching everybody burn. Was that selfish? Probably. She knew it sure as fuck wasn't selfless. What did her feelings and morality matter when the fate of humanity was at stake?

But it did. It did matter.

It was one of the only things that still could.

Luna's gaze was soft, full of too much understanding. "That's not a bad thing, Raven."

Wasn't it?

Good, bad - she didn't fucking know anymore.

If Luna had left, it would have sentenced thousands to death.

And it would have been Raven's fault.

"Well, it sure as hell wouldn't have felt like that if you ended up walking away and everyone died."

A part of her resented Luna for putting her in that position but not so much that she didn't realize how ridiculous that was. Had those in Mount Weather resented Raven for forcing them to make the decision on whether to let her live or kill her to save themselves? That choice - and its consequences - hadn't been her fault.

And this sure as fuck wasn't Luna's.

"We're only responsible for the choices we make," Luna countered, seemingly reading Raven's thoughts. Her voice was gentle enough to cut. "Not the choices of others."

That was a loophole Raven wouldn't give into. "I don't think that's true. There's a cause and effect thing to all this. If someone makes a choice because of something you did, then that's on you."

If Luna had left because she allowed her to then the consequences of that would have been on Raven. She'd known that at the time and accepted it.

Luna hesitated. "In some ways, yes. In others, no. My people trained me to be a killer, put me in a position where it was kill or die. But I still chose to drive that knife into my brother's chest. I still chose to hold his head under the water when he didn't die quick enough." Raven struggled not to flinch. "I still chose to kill him. No one else can take that choice from me. For as forced as it was, it was still mine."

Raven studied her. Luna's face hadn't shifted from its relatively blank state, but her eyes burned with the passion of conviction. "That's important to you."

She wasn't sure she could understand why.

If she was Luna, she would be racing towards any excuses she could find, anything to absolve her of just a little bit of blame.

And to Raven's mind, she would be justified in doing so. Luna's choice or not, she'd been a kid. She'd been manipulated and abused, forced into a situation where the only escape was to do something unforgivable, something she could never take back.

And so she had.

Just like every other nightblood in existence, as far as Raven was aware.

That meant that the Flame Keepers knew exactly what they were doing, exactly what strings to pull in order to achieve the result they desired. Had turned it into a system mandatory for all. A system that nobody would even think to question, let alone a child whose very life was spun by it.

What chance had a thirteen-year-old stood against that?

Luna wet her lips but nodded. "If it was my choice, then I can choose not to do it again. No matter what forces my hand."

Raven didn't mention the very obvious fact that Luna had chosen to do it again. When faced with an impossible choice, she'd killed the person she loved.

She knew the other woman was more aware of that than her.

Raven swallowed, uncomfortable with the level of vulnerability in Luna's eyes.

She looked away.

"Did you really think it was just a trick?" Raven had been sitting on this question a while, admittedly afraid of the answer.

Why the hell had Luna chosen to stay if she hadn't been fully confident that Raven's gesture was genuine?

It didn't make any sense.

"No," Luna said simply. "But I had to be sure." She sighed, leaning back. "Manipulation was a staple of my childhood. It's hard not to see it everywhere, even now." Her eyes held Raven's. "But that's not you. You don't have the patience for such deceit, or the heart for it. You're more direct than that."

She relaxed slightly, realizing that a part of her had been hurt by Luna's accusation.

"It's one of the reasons why I like you."

Raven's shoulders, which had only just begun to even out, tensed once more at this addition, her heart fluttering in her chest as she took in the little smile on Luna's face.

She swallowed uncomfortably, unsettled by the heat that had suddenly started to bloom from the center of her chest, stretching all the way down to her fingertips and leaving a tingling sensation that she had to clench her hands in order to avoid shaking out. Raven tried for a smirk that felt a little too startled on her face. "You mean, aside from my genius brain and unmatchable talent?"

Luna's expression flickered and she pursed her lips momentarily. "Aside from that."

"Well, you're not too bad yourself."

She was, in fact, the farthest from bad that anyone could get - much to Raven's dismay.

Though, she wondered if she should be unnerved by the fact that Luna had learnt to read her so expertly in such a short amount of time.

But then, Raven was learning to read her, too.

Just, you know, more clumsily.

She thought back to yesterday when Luna had questioned her reaction to the Conclave; how, for a split second, Raven thought she had seen apprehension hidden in the other woman's gaze before she'd cleared it away. It had been but a shadow darting across the planes of Luna's face and she couldn't be certain it had been there at all but. . .

It made her wonder.

Not for the first time. How much of Luna she didn't see.

It was a strange thing to contemplate considering the Grounder was probably the most open person she'd ever met. And yet. . .

She didn't think Luna hid things out of self-preservation - not like Raven - rather, she had a sneaking suspicion she did it out of care. Like she didn't want to put too much of herself onto others. To burden them, influence them.

She could understand that. The thought of being a burden was something that Raven struggled with herself.

It was just . . . she got the odd sense Luna was protecting her.

Like she hadn't wanted Raven to sense her discomfort, to feel guilty for it.

She'd been trying to shield her.

Raven wondered if she still was.

But she wasn't prepared to confront her about such suspicions. Not yet. Not until she had more evidence.

Thinking over Luna's words, she felt a spike of anger at the adults who had been charged with raising her and who had continuously abused that responsibility.

That had been their intention, though, hadn't it?

They'd known what they were doing and they hadn't cared for the ethics of it - or the consequences.

Or, rather, they'd been endeavoring to bring about a very particular set of consequences

Bastards.

Raven spun around, trying to blow such thoughts from her mind. It was the past, and you couldn't change the past.

No matter how much you wanted to.

Refocusing on Luna, she noticed that the other woman's attention had drifted elsewhere during her absence. Whilst her gaze was still directed at Raven, there was no sense that she was actually looking at her. Though in the time she'd known her, Luna's features were generally unreadable, there was always a hint of something there - a puzzle of subtle pieces that were often incomprehensible and impossible to put together.

But now there was nothing.

At least, nothing that Raven could see.

Swallowing, she tried to ignore the uneasy sensation of fingers creeping up her spine. It was fine. Luna had spaced out. People spaced out. Raven spaced out.

It was a thing that happened.

"Luna?"

The other woman startled - something that Raven wasn't sure she'd ever seen her do, except for that one time Abby had woken her - but it was a hasty thing, over in an instant. Before Raven could blink, Luna's features had settled back into the easy expression of before, open and waiting for her to continue.

"Yes?"

Forcing the frown from her face - and the anxiety from her gut - she tried to ease back into the conversation. "Can I ask something now?"

Curiosity lit up Luna's face - apparently, she didn't share Raven's trepidation when it came to being interrogated - before she gave a short, subtle nod. "Of course."

She didn't point out that all Raven had been doing lately was asking her questions - and she'd never needed permission before now. If that unsettled Luna, it didn't show.

But Raven was starting to realize that a lot didn't show when it came to Luna.

Maybe that was why she never ran out of questions for her.

"Why didn't you take the Flame?"

"In the end that was the choice you made, and it doesn't matter how hard it was to make it. It matters that you did."

― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

Chapter Text

"Life is about choices.

Some we regret,  some we're proud of.

Some will haunt us forever.

The message - we are what we chose to be."

― Graham Brown

"Can I ask something now?"

"Of course."

Raven frowned, running her fingers over the keyboard as she debated whether or not this was a conversation they should really be having right now. The last thing she wanted was to start a fight - though she doubted starting a fight with Luna would be easy. "Why didn't you take the Flame? Back when we came to you on the oil rig. Why didn't you take it?"

She could understand why Luna might be repulsed by the A.I., given what she'd once been forced to do in order to receive it, but she couldn't see how that repulsion would be any match for the obvious care she had for all life. The care that kept her here now.

Not to mention, she'd told Raven that she agreed with what they did about A.L.I.E.; her dismay - and disgust - over what the A.I. was capable of doing had been on full display. She'd wanted to stop A.L.I.E. just as much as the rest of them. She certainly had as many reasons - if not more - to hate the A.I. and want her destroyed. So why didn't she take the Flame?

No-one was asking her to compete in a Conclave this time. No-one was asking her to kill.

Just to save. That was all.

So why didn't she take it?

"I mean, you could have saved everyone."

If Luna was surprised by the question, it didn't show. In fact, nothing showed. It was like looking into a deep lake, the bottom so far down the sun couldn't touch it - all Raven could see was the surface.

She shifted uneasily.

"Not everyone," Luna said after a long time. "That Flame was in my life for little more than a day and it destroyed all the peace that I'd spent years building. People died, by my hand. People I loved. Taking the Flame would only have led to more killing. It always has."

Raven opened her mouth to protest-

"Did you truly kill no-one in your quest to defeat A.L.I.E.? Were there no casualties?" Her expression was still carefully detached but the objection was firm, even as the weight of her tone remained so light it could be mistaken for a caress.

Raven closed her mouth again, hesitated. "There might have been less if we'd been able to use the Flame sooner."

They'd wasted a lot of valuable time trying to get the upper hand on A.L.I.E. without use of the second A.I. - and it had cost them dearly.

(but not nearly as dearly as what it had cost Luna to be presented with the Flame in the first place)

She didn't waver. "But still some?"

"Probably." The answer was grudging but Raven couldn't hide from it.

Luna grew silent, considering her response. Not for the first time, Raven wished she was easier to read. "It's self-serving, but I can't put myself in a place to make those decisions. Not again. I can't have any more blood on my hands." She sighed, leaning back as she uncrossed her legs, her posture becoming more fluid, though weighed down by a certain exhaustion that Raven hadn't noticed till now. As though the conversation had worn away at what little reserves she still possessed. "And once you start making those choices, it's difficult to stop. That kind of power can be. . . addictive. I didn't like who I was back when I made them. And I have no desire to become that person again."

Raven frowned. She couldn't help but think that Luna wasn't giving herself enough credit. She made it sound like if she got one taste of that apple, she'd be a goner. But Raven had seen the level of control she had over herself, the strength of conviction in everything she did. Raven doubted she could be so easily swayed - knew she couldn't, if experience was anything to go by - and especially not by a little old thing like power.

Power may be addictive but she'd seen nothing to suggest it was Luna's drug of choice.

But she could understand the concept of a sliding scale when it came to hard choices. Once you made one, it was so much easier to make the next. The longer that went on, the more people you sacrificed, the more lines you crossed, the less resistant you became to making the choices you never thought you'd even consider.

She'd seen it in almost everyone around her.

Seen it in herself.

The one person she hadn't seen it in was Luna.

The line seemed very clear to her - and near impossible to stumble over, even just for a brief gander on the other side.

It had taken threatening the life of a little girl to drag the nightblood across it and, even so, she'd lingered for barely a second. Long enough to do irreversible damage, but not so long that she could be tempted to stay.

Raven didn't think there was anything that could make Luna stay. She was too firmly fastened to the life and beliefs she'd crafted for herself on the side of peace.

Raven was brought out of her thoughts by a shift in movement. Luna reached for the pile of string beside her, which had been growing steadily smaller over the past couple of days. Raven took it as a sign that meditation was over with for the time being, which meant she was unlikely to be ignored again anytime soon.

Not that she cared about that.

Not that she needed Luna's attention.

It had just, you know, been unnerving when she hadn't received any, if only because most of the time she felt almost smothered by it.

She wasn't used to someone being so focused on her.

But if today was anything to by, she now seemed to be getting a little too used to it.

Frowning, Raven turned her attention back to the string steadily winding its way through Luna's hands.

The Grounder was making a fishing net - or nets - apparently.

Raven was sure Becca must have some kind of rope lying around here, or at least something similar - actually, she thought she'd seen some actual bona fide nets down on Level 2 - but Luna had insisted on making her own. Raven suspected that she needed the distraction.

(which might be why her fingers were wrapping around the creation now, cycling through the pile at a somewhat intimidating pace)

"If you're wondering whether I regret my decision not to take the Flame, I don't. I made Floukru to be a safe haven. The world outside of it was full of killing and fighting, that didn't change with A.L.I.E.'s arrival." Luna's gaze connected with hers again, piercing. "I turned my back on that world, Raven. And so did everyone who came to be a part of Floukru. The only reason that violence found its way into my clan was because we invited Skaikru into it. I invited them. That was how A.L.I.E found us. And she was only interested in us because of the possibility that I might take the Flame." She shrugged. "Once I refused, once Skaikru left, she never came back. She didn't find us again. I don't think she even tried. So, no, I don't regret my decision to not take the Flame."

And Raven could tell from the steel in her gaze that she meant it. As impassive as her expression remained, it was also unfaltering. On this, she wouldn't be swayed.

And. . . after hearing all that, Raven was no longer sure that she wanted her to be.

She could understand Luna's side of it. Even if she couldn't find it within herself to agree.

Raven still thought it was worth the price. Putting an end to A.L.I.E. was worth everything they'd done in the process.

That was what she believed.

And this was what Luna believed.

She wouldn't take that from her.

Force her to think and feel as anyone other than herself.

( 'I can make the same decision you did, Raven. Easily. Too easily. It's what I was born for. But every time I've made it in the past, I've lost a part of myself. And I've worked so hard to get those parts back. But some will be lost forever. . . Not making those choices is how I hold onto what parts I have left.')

She wouldn't condemn Luna for choosing to hold onto what little remained of herself.

For choosing life over death.

Raven wasn't the Flame Keepers. She'd never condemn someone for valuing the lives of others a little too much. For not being able to kill. To sacrifice.

(and in the end, maybe Luna was right to think the way she did. To be so clear-cut with her lines.

maybe they were the ones who deserved to be condemned)

Luna had spent her entire childhood being trained for the day she would lead her people, or die. Even after she'd fled that expectation, the role of leadership had still found her - only it hadn't asked her to sacrifice her heart in the bargain.

But she wasn't a leader anymore.

Not now that there was no-one left to lead.

Well, not exactly no-one.

Raven could imagine Luna as the Commander, almost too clearly. She suspected she would do a much better job of it than Roan who, despite his best efforts, was clearly floundering. Though, one could hardly hold that against him when he'd fallen into the position when the world was, quite literally, coming to an end. It wasn't something he'd been trained for. Leading Azgeda one day, maybe, but rival clans? Clans that had spent most of their existence at war with one another and had only known peace for a short time under a single Commander? Not to mention, he lacked the rather significant requirements for the job: nightblood and The Flame. Without either, without both - his people's loyalty was hard won.

But Luna had the training. She had the blood. And if she hadn't rejected the Flame, she'd have had that too. Could still have it, maybe. If she wanted.

And she. . . she had this way about her. This tranquility, blended with authority that somehow didn't make the rebel inside Raven want to rise up and kick her in the teeth. She felt safe with Luna, and she hadn't felt safe with anyone for a long time.

It was a quality that would set her apart as a leader, Raven was sure of it.

Luna may not want the Flame or the position of Commander, but that didn't make her any less ideal for the role.

Except. . . being that kind of a leader meant making hard choices, the kind of choices Luna had very clearly stated she refused to make. Not again.

And Raven couldn't blame her for that. She didn't want to make those choices either.

Because she knew what it meant to be the one who suffered from them.

And so did Luna.

She cleared her throat, no longer comfortable with this line of interrogation. "Okay, new question. Why the hell do you keep trying to give me your jacket?"

Raven pushed the offending object away from her in emphasis, hoping to break the oppressive weight of the conversation they'd just had.

A part of her regretted initiating it, even if the discussion had illuminated some things and laid to rest more than a few burning questions. She didn't like the way the other woman's fingers had grown tense around the string in her hands, skin leeching of color with the increasing pressure.

But at her question, Luna's eyes creased, the coolness of her expression cracking with warmth. Raven was relieved for the change. "Because it annoys you."

Her jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

No way.

Luna's mouth twitched and Raven hated that she looked so tempting in her amusement. "The first time was genuine. You really did look cold. But after. . ." She shrugged, leaning back. "It distracted you."

"It distracted me?" She fought the urge to gape like a fish. Even so, Raven just knew the expression on her face must be several degrees short of embarrassing and had to give Luna credit for not caving to even a chuckle.

She nodded. "You work too hard and it takes a toll. But pointing that out will just make you more likely to push yourself harder. You hate your limitations." Her mouth pulled down sympathetically. "Understandably. But you do need to take breaks."

Raven stared, struggling to wrap her mind around the level of subterfuge. Mostly because it had worked. Luna would get on her nerves, and she'd storm off. Pace around for a little while - maybe work her frustration out on some snacks - and then return to the lab.

She clearly hadn't been exaggerating when she called Luna diabolical the other day.

And yet. . . Raven couldn't bring herself to be pissed. The other woman had outplayed her, fair and square, and she could admire that even as she bristled faintly with indignation. "We'd be so fucked if you ever decided to use your powers for evil."

That startled a laugh from Luna.

Raven rolled her eyes, willing her heart to slow back down. It had developed this annoying habit of leaping out of control whenever she heard the other woman's laughter or saw her smile - like a little kid on a sugar high, delighting at the most mundane of things.

"You know, telling me kind of spoils your plan. It's not like you can use that trick anymore now that I know."

Luna shrugged. "I'll find another."

Somehow she didn't doubt that. "You could have just lied." Continued with her trick, Raven never being the wiser. It was more than effective, after all.

But Luna shook her head. "No, I couldn't have."

She huffed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "Right, you don't lie."

Luna seemed amused by her derision. "You make it sound like such an extraordinary thing." She lifted her shoulders carelessly. "Lying takes a kind of effort I can't be bothered with. It's easier to work with the truth."

Not in Raven's experience.

The truth was prickly and painful, needling your insides until you were willing to do whatever you could to avoid it.

The truth had never been easy to take.

Or give.

She sighed. "I can't believe you tricked me."

It was actually a rather cunning use of misdirection. She'd pressed on a spot that she knew to be sensitive - Raven's frustration when it came to being fussed over - in order to avoid fussing over what she actually wanted to fuss over.

Diabolical, indeed.

"Don't feel too bad. You're not the first to fall for that move. It was always very effective on Lexa." Luna's gaze was focused once more on the string in her hand and, by Raven's calculations, the net seemed to be growing at a rapid rate.

Whatever it was she was doing, she was damn good at it.

"I'm not Lexa." She couldn't suppress the lick of anger at being compared to that woman.

Luna looked up at her tone, regarding her evenly for a moment. "No. You're not. But you are as stubborn."

She returned her attention to her work and Raven wondered what she'd managed to grasp from that brief perusal of her face.

Hopefully not much.

As stubborn as Lexa.

Great.

She'd always taken a kind of pride - and glee - in her unwavering determination but now she felt slightly queasy.

That woman had left Raven at the mercy of Mount Weather. And that was after she'd engaged in a little friendly side torture, or whatever you wanted to call it (no execution needed to be that painful).

She didn't want to be anything like her.

And yet. . . Luna always spoke with such fondness whenever she mentioned the Commander, and Raven had a hard time believing that she would hold anyone in high regard who didn't actually deserve it. She liked everyone, sure - or seemed to. Look, she liked Murphy. That might as well count as everyone. But there was a difference between liking someone and holding genuine affection for them.

So maybe. . . maybe there was something in Lexa that was worthy of that feeling.

But Raven wasn't about to waste any time trying to find out what.

She sighed, turning away to face the bane of her existence: the rocket that had been rendered all but useless. "I need to fix this."

Luna looked up again and though Raven could no longer see her face, the softness of the other woman's tone eased some of the stiffness in her spine. "I know. But some things can't be fixed. And I don't want you to kill yourself trying to make the impossible possible."

Raven frowned, wondering if Luna might know a little more than what she'd let on about what was going on with her head. But no. She couldn't see Abby sharing that information with her, there would be no need to. And the doctor might have her flaws - didn't they all? - but Raven was fairly confident that she still understood the meaning of doctor-patient confidentially. "It's only impossible until I make it possible. I figured you of all people would understand that."

She turned her chair back around to face the other woman, unable to keep the confrontation from her tone.

Luna nodded. "I do. But this is a little different than rejecting an entire culture and belief system. Even so, that nearly cost me my life. Many times over."

She narrowed her eyes, ire rising at the thought of Luna ever coming to harm - and for the simple crime of not wanting to kill any more people.

If she could go back in time and blow a bomb up in the faces of everyone who had ever dared to hurt her, she would. At the top of her list would be those bloody Flame Keepers, who had decided to systematize child abuse. They were just begging for a grenade or two.

"I don't want to see this cost you yours." The murmur came quietly but for Raven it felt like a sledgehammer. The genuine care contained in those simple words grated at her heart and, for a moment, she found it hard to breathe. She wished Luna didn't care about her - and yet was equally terrified at the thought that she might stop. That one day she would see what Raven already knew.

That she didn't deserve that care.

Had never deserved it.

(but god did she want it)

Guilt swirled inside her as she realized that this was one thing she could never give Luna. Raven couldn't survive for her. Couldn't promise her that she'd put her own wellbeing before the rest of the world - before the alter she'd placed her own genius on.

And she couldn't talk about this any longer.

Raven sighed, swiveling her chair around a little more so that the other woman was directly facing her. "Okay, question number three."

Luna was fighting a smile now. "This is beginning to feel like an interrogation."

Raven shrugged, sharing in her amusement. "You can opt out at any time."

She tilted her head to the side, considering. "I'd rather do a trade."

"A trade?" She didn't like the evil glint in Luna's eye. It seemed to promise this would not end well for her.

"I've only asked you one question, which seems incredibly unequal." Well, okay, yeah. "In exchange for answering your third, I get to ask two more of you. The timing of which will be at my discretion."

Raven bulked. There were a million things Luna could ask of her and probably only a dozen she wouldn't feel the need to rocket up into space to avoid answering.

But. . . Luna was careful. And empathetic. So far, she hadn't asked more of Raven than she was comfortable giving, and that extended to more than just questions. Her compassion outweighed her curiosity. She didn't think the other woman was likely to demand something of her that would inevitably send her into a tailspin but. . . "And if I don't want to answer?"

"Then you don't answer." She shrugged. "I'll pick something else."

The tension inside Raven eased. "Okay." She could work with that.

Even if this did feel like another of the Grounder's tricks. She was fairly confident Luna didn't give a fuck about things being 'incredibly unequal' and was just using that as a bargaining chip to wheedle her way into Raven's personal life - as if she hadn't already burrowed herself in too deep.

Oddly, Raven discovered that she didn't exactly mind if that was true.

Even more strangely, she found an element of humor in it.

She wondered if Luna had predicted her reacting in such a way. Something told her she would never have suggested this at all if she believed for a second Raven might be made uncomfortable by it.

She didn't know whether to be touched by that or disturbed by her insight.

Luna smiled. "Okay. Then ask away."

Chapter Text

"Because to take away a man's freedom of choice, even his freedom to make the wrong choice, is to manipulate him as though he were a puppet and not a person."
― Madeline L'Engle

"Why didn't you leave?" Seeing the confusion on Luna's face, Raven shrugged. "That day on the dock. You could have left."

She looked slightly bemused. "Would you have preferred that I did?"

Raven snorted. "Hardly." Even without the fate of the world resting on her continued presence in their lives, Luna was good company. More than good company, actually. As much as she hated to admit it. "But you wanted to go. I know that."

Luna's expression faded into empty dispassion, the change so seamless as to be unnerving. "There are a lot of things I want but don't act on."

Well, she'd come pretty close to acting on this.

"That's not why you chose to stay. You were willing to act, to leave." She'd been desperate to convince the nightblood not to but only a small part of Raven had actually believed she might succeed in the effort. She was no-one to Luna. Little more than a stranger. What chance did she have to change her mind? What could she offer her?

But Raven had remembered the look on her face when she'd held Adria in her final moments. The devastation there. The love.

That had been her first glimpse into the person Luna was, beneath the rumors and stories.

Beneath the legend.

And she'd thought. . . someone who cared that much about a child who wasn't even theirs, would be incapable of sitting back and watching the world burn, watching yet more children die.

Not when she could do something to stop it.

Something that didn't require her to dirty her hands like taking the Flame would have.

It had been a gamble. A half-formed hypothesis.

But it had held true.

Still, she'd seen Luna's own desperation in that moment. How badly she'd wanted to get on that boat, sail away from the promised devastation to come; from watching more people die - some of them even for her own sake, like Nyko.

When Raven refocused on her now, she realized Luna had been watching her carefully for however long they'd drifted into silence, her hands having ceased in their motion, netting abandoned.

But she still hadn't answered.

That was unusual. Luna was honest to a fault and had rarely shied away from questions in the past, especially when Raven was the one posing them. But here they were.

She opened her mouth to ask again, though it was probably pointless - if Luna didn't want to share, she wouldn't and Raven could more than understand that, she wouldn't push if that was the case - but Luna chose that moment to break her silence.

"I've gotten very good at running away," she said carefully. "I started when I was thirteen-years-old and I'm not sure I ever stopped." Her gaze wandered to the netting in her hands, tracing the rise and fall of one knot. "But I realized this was one thing I would regret running away from. If you're right, and my blood can save everyone, then I want to try. I'm tired of watching people die."

So, it was as she'd thought.

Luna's heart had won out.

It was a motivation she could more than understand, and relate to. "Me, too."

Luna acknowledged that with a weak upturn of her lips. Then she took a breath. "But what really made me stay was you."

Hold up. "Me?"

She nodded. "You gave me a choice. No one's ever given me that." Her gaze dropped. "I've been forced to do so many things in my life, terrible things. The last time I came into contact with your people, you tried to force me to take the Flame. When it became clear you needed my blood, I knew I wouldn't have a choice in the matter. And I swore a long time ago that I would never let anyone have that kind of power over me again. The ability to control me. No matter the reason."

Raven swallowed, remembering what Luna had told her about the Conclave. What Jasper had told her about what went down on the oil rig, after A.L.I.E. had come into play - though his reluctance to give any details had been the most disturbing factor of all.

She didn't know what Luna was talking about in regards to the Flame but she felt a lick of anger at the implication.

Raven wondered if this had anything to do with why she seemed to be avoiding Clarke, now that the younger Griffin had arrived on the island. It wasn't obvious, by any means, the Grounder was always pleasant in her presence and made no show that she was eager to depart it. But Raven hadn't missed the fact that, somehow, wherever Clarke was, Luna tended not to be - like she had a sixth sense for predicting the blonde woman's approach, enough to make herself scarce before she arrived.

For the first two days, Raven hadn't made much of it, chalked it up to coincidence and differing schedules. But now, she wasn't so sure.

(if she and Clarke survived the apocalypse, the two of them were going to have words)

"You tried to run because you thought we wouldn't give you a choice," Raven surmised. And, really, she hadn't been wrong in that assumption.

Luna nodded.

Her stomach turned as she felt the phantom grip of a gun in her hands, saw the stiffening of the other woman's shoulders as she was forced to halt, the resignation that bled from her face as she turned. . .

It was a wonder Luna could even stand to be in the same room as her.

"I don't think you understand the gift you gave me."

Raven glanced up, eyes wide at the proclamation.

There was a tender shadow to Luna's gaze, accentuated by the naked vulnerability enveloping it.

"I didn't give you anything." She'd simply refused to take something away - and nearly too late at that. There was a difference.

But Luna shook her head. "You did. I never would have stayed if you hadn't given me the choice. And. . . that would have been a mistake. Even as I was walking away, I knew that I would regret doing so. Just not as much as I would regret staying." She shrugged. "Now, I don't have to regret anything."

We'll see how long that lasts.

If they failed to synthesize nightblood, Luna might end up resenting Raven for convincing her to stay - and sacrificing the few weeks she had left to enjoy the world and its people before it all ceased to be.

If they failed, Luna might regret that she'd wasted that precious time with Raven, of all people.

Her stomach turned.

Thank God she likely wouldn't survive long enough to see that.

Raven frowned, pushing that thought down. "So even if you wanted to stay, you wouldn't have?"

Luna hesitated. "You need to understand, Raven. I refuse to be a prisoner in my own life. I can't go through that again. I won't. Maybe that's selfish but. . ."

Fuck that. "Yeah, maybe it's selfish. But you've earned a little selfishness and. . . you deserve to be free. To make your own choices. Everyone does."

Everyone.

No matter what the color of their blood was.

The more she learned about Luna, the worse she felt about pointing a gun at her, the better she felt about putting it down.

"You believe that?"

The question took her by surprise, her heart knotting at the unguarded emotion in Luna's eyes. The doubt Raven could see there, the need.

She looked young. Too young.

They were all too fucking young.

"Don't you?"

"I did. I. . ." Luna shook her head, letting out a sigh. "I'm not sure what I believe anymore. Belief is such a hard thing to get back once it's gone."

Yeah, Raven could understand that. She wasn't sure what she believed in anymore, either. The ground had stripped her of her strongest convictions in the most brutal way it knew how.

But in this moment she believed nothing more than the right Luna had to make her own choices - after that right had been stolen from her so many times in life.

Everyone deserved to have at least that much control over their own lives. That much freedom.

Otherwise, what was the point of surviving if they didn't actually get to live the lives they fought so hard for? If they sacrificed all the good in the world just so they could hold onto what little was left?

Still, she didn't entirely buy Luna's words - or her doubt. "I've seen the way you are with everyone, the way you are with me. You still believe in people."

Her features had become closed to Raven again, all previous vulnerability tucked away, and whilst there was a relief in that, she also felt a loss at it. Like Luna had retracted something precious, something Raven hadn't recognized for the gift it was. Something she should have tried to hold onto. "You're so sure?"

"Yep. Choice or not, you wouldn't have helped me that day if you didn't. And you wouldn't be helping us now."

She certainly wouldn't be playing some horrifying blend of nanny, nursemaid, and therapist to her and Murphy. She'd just keep her distance and leave them to rot in their own shit, sorting out - or failing to sort out - what little they could before everything went tits up.

"What if I'm just pretending?"

Raven snorted. "If you're going to throw hypotheticals at me, at least make them realistic. It's a bit of a long con." Luna's brow furrowed at the unfamiliar term but Raven didn't bother to elaborate. "Besides, I don't think you care what others think of you, so there's no point in wrapping the wool over our eyes. No point in pretending to be something you're not. So who the hell would you be trying to fool?"

"Myself."

The answer was soft but Raven caught it. A wry smile pulled at her lips. "Luna, I know what it looks like when people don't actually care." She'd been forced to endure the spectacle of it every day growing up. "And that's not you. If anything, you care too much. How can you doubt that?"

She didn't think anyone could ever mistake Luna for being apathetic. Except, apparently, herself.

The other woman gazed at her a moment. "Because some days I still want to run." Raven tried not to let her anxiety show at having her earlier suspicions confirmed. She'd expected as much, even if she'd hoped against it. "I don't think I would have that desire, if I really believed in what we were doing."

Yeah, right. Given everything she knew about Luna, what being on this island entailed, how things were all too likely to turn out. . .

Well, Raven would want to run too.

"No, you've got it wrong. Wanting to run away? That's human. We all get that feeling. But choosing to stay even though you want to leave? That, more than anything else, is proof that you care." A proof her mother had never shown. Her need to run, to escape her own child had been so great, she'd fallen into a bottle to do it. "And I think that's why you want to run. You're scared that we're going to fail. And because you care so much, you don't want to face that. But if you ran, you wouldn't have to. You could distance yourself."

Luna looked away and Raven knew she had hit the nail on the head. The Grounder wasn't the only one who could read people. The little spike of pride that hit her upon this achievement was slightly inappropriate but she'd always been competitive - one of her greatest attributes and most obnoxious character flaws.

"You know you still care. You just wish that you didn't," Raven finished, her smile - which might have been triumphant in any other context - weighted with sadness.

Luna stared at the wall for a long time and Raven wondered if maybe she hadn't gone too far, pushed too hard - though, honestly, she wasn't even sure it was possible to push someone like Luna too far - but then, just when she was opening her mouth to backtrack, the other woman turned to face her again. "I don't want to watch anybody else die. And I don't want to have hope that I won't. Because if this fails, I'm going to be watching everybody die. Including you."

You're going to be watching me die whether we fail or not.

She should tell her. God, she should tell her. . .

But she couldn't get the words out. Couldn't be another source of pain for Luna.

(and she didn't want to take the risk of scaring the other woman off, of losing the fledgling friendship between them that she was starting to realize held more importance for her than it should.

If it was Raven in Luna's shoes and she found out someone she was close to was about to kick the bucket. . .

She'd run. Of course, she'd run.

Anything to avoid facing that pain again. From getting attached to something - someone - she knew she couldn't keep, couldn't ever keep.

Luna wasn't the only one who could be selfish.

Self-preservation. She'd been practicing it all her life. Even if it was only her heart she was trying to protect, rather than her body)

Luna sighed at her silence, grip going slack on the string in her hands."I fled my Conclave so I wouldn't have to be its sole survivor. And now it looks like that's all I'll ever be, only on a much grander scale." Her mouth twisted. "Fate has a funny sense of humor."

Raven bit her lip. "Not everybody. Abby said Jaha's still looking for some mythical bunker. You never know, maybe he'll come through."

God, please let him come through. Mass extinction aside, the thought of leaving Luna alone in a world of death filled her with dread.

That wasn't a fate anyone should suffer.

And certainly not someone like Luna, whose heart seemed so big and heavy, Raven was constantly surprised the earth's crust didn't break beneath the weight of it. She had so much love to give, Raven could see it - every day, she could see it - but she was facing a future where she would have no-one to give that love to.

And she felt- she knew that Luna needed to give that love to someone. That she needed people to care about, to share her life with.

Raven could do okay on her own, even if it wasn't always her preferred state.

She didn't think Luna could.

Not like this.

"A bunker?"

Raven nodded. "Yeah. Capable of sheltering people from the radiation. I don't know all the details but I've seen worse Hail Marys."

Luna didn't look as pleased about this as she'd expected. "So then I get to watch the clans tear each other apart for the right to survive?" Her face scrunched up - in any other circumstance, Raven might have found the expression adorable but the bitter disgust she saw there destroyed any potential for that. "I'd rather watch everyone die than pay witness to that."

Raven flinched.

Harsh words.

And from the look on Luna's face, she meant them.

Raven swallowed. "We don't know that's what'll happen. Maybe people will surprise you."

Abby had told her about those on the Ark who had sacrificed their lives in order for everyone else to survive. As horrible as humanity could be, sometimes they really did come through. Sometimes they proved just how much they deserved to exist.

The only problem was that most of the people who deserved to exist were the ones most likely to stop existing.

But Luna's lips drew up slightly at her words, eyes softening. "Maybe. You did."

Raven returned the smile, somewhat taken aback by the gentle confession, the warmth she saw pouring out of the other woman - for her.

The last person to look at her like that had been Sinclair but it hadn't elicited the startled butterflies swirling in her gut that she felt now.

Would have been kind of creepy if it had.

She hesitated before reaching out for Luna's hand, where it rested on the counter between them. The other woman looked surprised by the gesture but she took it readily, lips peaking up into another smile.

Raven made sure that their eyes met, so that Luna would see the truth in them. "I promise I won't ever force you to do something. You'll always have a choice with me."

Luna's smile flickered and grew, the surprise shining brighter for a moment before fading away into gratitude, the depth of it quietly devastating.

Raven hated that there was any surprise there at all.

That someone promising not to use Luna against her will, to force her into something, was unexpected. Miraculous even.

Again, Raven remembered the gun she'd trained on her, the bitter resignation on Luna's face when she'd turned, like she'd been waiting for exactly that.

Raven hated that she'd proved her right.

Before she'd ever proved her wrong.

But she couldn't change that. What she could do was try to make up for it in the future, make up for it now.

"Thankyou for staying." And she gave her own smile to match Luna's, felt the warmth of them blend together until her heart settled at last.

Raven had her own share of gratitude to embrace. She didn't want to think what this past week or so would have been like if Luna hadn't been here.

Hell, Murphy might have ended up in the infirmary - if he was fortunate.

She had so much more to thank Luna for than her blood.

And no idea how to start.

Luna squeezed her hand, the crease of her lips turning tender. "You know, you're the only person who's thanked me."

The words were soft but Raven felt them like a hammer to the chest. "I'm-"

But Luna shook her head, clenching her hand. "I didn't say that to make you feel bad. Just so you know that your words are appreciated. I appreciate them. And you."

Raven swallowed, hand turning hot and sweaty in the other woman's grip. She wanted to pull away.

(it was the last thing she wanted)

Luna's smile returned and, as if sensing her unease, she released Raven's hand, reaching for her netting once more. But she didn't shake the limb off, or give any indication that she wished for it to depart. Instead, she left it resting on her thigh, seemingly content with its continued presence.

Raven breathed a little easier. This form of contact was less suffocating and she was relieved that she hadn't had to let go of Luna altogether.

"Would you like to go fishing tomorrow?"

"Huh?" Raven blinked stupidly, brain still short-circuiting from the effect of the other woman's touch - and her words.

Luna's hand skated a little too close to hers as she threaded some string through a loop, the edge of her fingers glancing off Raven's skin in the next moment.

She shivered. Wished it didn't leave her wanting more.

"Fishing. You offered to come along the other day. I was wondering whether that offer still stood."

Right. Fishing.

Fishing with Luna.

The two of them. Together.

Alone.

Not that such an occurrence was unusual. They'd gone on walks together before, also alone. But they were often quick, no more than a few hours. Raven suspected that fishing would take up at least half a day, if not more.

That was half a day spent away from all the work Raven needed to be doing in the lab.

That was half a day of not having any excuse to escape Luna's presence if she wanted to. No bottom levels to disappear down into until she cooled down, until she was ready to face the other woman again.

No space.

But she'd offered.

Luna had even made her a net.

And hadn't Raven just been thinking about how she didn't have any fucking clue how to thank her for everything she'd done? Well, this seemed like a good place to start.

"Sure. Sounds fun." Not really. Fish were slimy as hell - or so she'd heard - and Raven resented the idea of spending any length of time close to a body of water.

God, she hoped she didn't fall in.

There was only so much embarrassment she could take in one lifetime.

But Luna was smiling at her again and suddenly the thought of getting wet didn't seem nearly so bad.

Chapter Text

"If the earth is a mother then rivers are her veins."

- Amit Kalantri

"We passed a river the other day," Luna said as they made their way through the trees, the entrance to the lab disappearing behind them. "There might be nothing of worth there, but it's always good to check. Otherwise, we'll look for another source."

Raven shrugged, happy to defer to the other woman in this. She didn't know shit about catching fish. To be honest, she wasn't all that eager to eat any, either. She'd never tried one before, though Octavia said they were smelly as hell so that sure didn't sound particularly appetizing.

But there was a certain air of content about Luna today that had been missing in all the time she'd known her and Raven suspected that it was because she was finally in her element. The lab and everything to do with it were foreign to the Grounder but this was familiar, this was her life before A.L.I.E. - before they - had destroyed it.

Raven would eat a hundred fish just to see the look that adorned Luna's face now.

It wasn't happiness.

But it was a peace that came without force or effort and that was close enough.

Luna turned to her, lips lifting faintly. "Thankyou for coming, by the way. You didn't have to. I could have come by myself, or accepted Murphy's offer this morning. He seemed rather eager to get out of the mansion."

Raven felt a seed of jealousy take up root inside her and grimaced at its presence.

For God's sake, you are not going to be jealous of Murphy just because you're not the only person on this god-forsaken island whose company Luna actually finds tolerable.

Jesus Christ.

She'd never been a jealous person before Finn cheated on her. Just another brilliant leftover from that fucking fiasco. And she and Luna weren't even a thing!

Raven didn't want them to be a thing. Refused to let them be a thing.

Fuck.

Could she blame this on the seizures too? Cos she was gonna.

Raven scuffed her boot, attention directed at the ground - which seemed safer. "Yeah. Think he and Emori got into a fight."

A small one, by the sounds of it, but a probable motivation for him to vacate the premises, something he was ever reluctant to do. Dude acted like he fucking owned the mansion and treated it like his baby.

"Ah." Luna nodded. "That would explain why she was so irritable this morning."

'Irritable' was one way of putting it. A pissed off Emori was a formidable force to behold. She couldn't blame Murphy for scrambling to get the hell out of dodge first chance he got.

Raven shrugged. "Knowing them, they've probably already made up by now." Which she didn't entirely understand. Didn't understand their relationship at all, in fact. She got what he saw in Emori. Girl was kind of brilliant. But she did not get what Emori saw in Murphy, of all people. Or what Luna saw in him, either, for that matter. "Why do you even like Murphy anyways?"

Ah, shit. Her jealousy had legs.

How very mature of it.

Luna blinked a little, thrown by the question, before her features composed themselves into consideration. "He's a person who makes and lives by his own rules. I have a soft spot for that."

Why do you like  me ?

Yesterday, she'd said she liked the fact that Raven lacked the heart for manipulation. But plenty of people possessed that same trait. Didn't exactly make her special. Or explain why Luna continued to seek her company out over others.

Hell, Jackson had never manipulated anyone in his life and she didn't see Luna cozying up to him.

Or maybe she would have. If he wasn't so involved with her blood.

Maybe Raven was just the consolation prize.

"And I'm grateful to him for what he did for Adria," she continued after a moment. There was no resentment in her tone and Raven knew that there wouldn't be but she still felt her stomach sink, that all familiar guilt sinking its claws in and yanking.

Adria wasn't the first kid that she'd sentenced to death.

But Raven hadn't known about the girl who was Anya's second the day she'd planted that bomb, hadn't known that her actions could bring about such a devastating consequence. She'd never even met that little girl, the one Clarke had told her haltingly about later. Most days, she could pretend she'd never existed.

(however cowardly that was)

There was no hope of doing that with Adria.

Especially not with Luna here beside her. Every day, Raven had a front-row seat to just what she'd done.

Every day, she had to remind herself that she hadn't actually done anything. She'd just refused to take an action that would help no-one and might even cause greater suffering in the long run, depriving others in the future of the chance to survive.

Logically, she'd done the right thing.

It just didn't feel like it.

Especially during those times when she had to look into Luna's grief-stricken face, knowing that she'd done nothing to prevent her pain.

But maybe that was the crux of the problem, the thing that really plagued her.

It wasn't what she'd done.

It was what she hadn't done.

Luna hesitated, misreading the reason for her silence. "I'm sorry if that's uncomfortable for you. The amicability we have. I understand what he did."

But Raven shook her head. "I may not understand or agree with it, but I'm not uncomfortable." She meant that. Jealousy aside, she didn't give a fuck who Luna chose to be friends with. "I've never really cared what anyone felt about Murphy, only myself." Okay, that was a little less true. "And you've never tried to change the way I feel, so we're good."

Luna still didn't look entirely convinced, probably because she could read the inner turmoil radiating off Raven in waves, even if she wasn't privy to its source, but she let the subject drop. They continued in silence for some time, the mechanic chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to ignore the coil of doubt currently stirring inside her.

"Do you think I'm wrong to still be angry at him?"

If the other woman was surprised by the question, it didn't show. Luna shook her head. "No. You feel what you feel, and you deserve to feel it. Whether you like Murphy or not, forgive him or not, that's not a question of morality. It's just a question of what helps you, what you can live with." She turned to Raven, pausing their forward momentum, eyes piercing. "Like I said, you don't owe your forgiveness to anyone."

Something untangled inside Raven - she hadn't realized until now that a part of her had craved that permission, needed it even - and she sighed, looking down at her feet. "It's like. . . everyone else moved on. No-one seems to care what he did, or they just don't remember." At first, she'd wanted it that way. Had concealed Murphy's role in what had been done to her - for his sake as much as hers (the last thing she wanted was more attention on her newfound limitations). But later, she'd revealed the truth to those who mattered. And others, like Clarke and Bellamy, never needed to be told. They'd had a front-row seat to the whole fucking spectacle. "I think I'm more angry at them than I am at Murphy," she admitted. "At least I know his actions were an accident." Sort of. At the very least, she hadn't been his intended target. "Everyone else's? Not so much."

She knew that wasn't the case with Luna. She had an awareness of everyone and everything that no-one else in Raven's life could compete with.

She'd never forget, or deem what happened irrelevant.

Hell, she'd only been in Raven's life for a couple of weeks and already she was the only person who'd even considered her feelings when it came to Murphy.

Whatever friendship she formed with him, it was done with the full understanding of just how much he'd hurt Raven - a hurt that Luna freely acknowledged. But with everyone else, she got the sense that they thought she was being unreasonable, that her long-enduring resentment was an irritant they'd rather didn't exist, something they hoped she would move past quickly.

Luna displayed no such impatience.

Whilst she may want Raven and Murphy to get along, to find a common ground, such desire did not trump the mechanic's own needs. There was no expectation that Raven would or even should move past anything - Murphy or otherwise - and that was. . .

A relief, to be honest.

Everyone wanted her to be better. Needed her to be.

Luna was the only person who seemed to understand that her pain was a struggle Raven may never come out on top of. At the very least, she showed no disappointment in her inability to pull herself together and get over it.

(none of the disappointment that Raven felt in herself)

But even if that wasn't the case, her answer to the other woman's question would have remained the same.

She knew that Luna needed people to care about, to look after.

And all the available options on this island were rather pitiful.

Right now she just had Raven, the most pitiful of all.

She didn't want to be the only person Luna had. She knew how that went. Finn had been her world, the only person she really, truly cared about - and look how that had turned out. She'd been dependent on his life being in hers and when he was gone, the loss had crippled her.

She didn't want that for Luna.

If she could find someone else to attach her heart to, then Raven wanted that. Even if that person was Murphy. Her jealousy could feel free to fuck right off.

Just because Finn had preferred someone else over her didn't mean Luna would.

And even if she did, maybe that would be better.

Murphy, unlike Raven, actually had a shot at surviving this nightmare. Really, she should want the other woman to like him more.

But she didn't.

She couldn't.

She couldn't want that. And it was one of her more frustrating revelations to date.

Luna's expression was pained as she took in Raven's words. "It's harder when the hurts done to us aren't acknowledged," she murmured and Raven didn't mind so much the understanding she saw in her eyes this time, not when it came to this. "That's something I struggled with, after the Conclave. It took me time to understand everything that had been done to me, everything I had done to others. But once I did, it was lonely."

Raven blinked, struck by the confession.

"I was hurt. And angry. But it was as though the whole world was saying I didn't have a right to be. That it was wrong. I was wrong. I killed my brother and I was wrong to be angry about it. To be upset. Hurt." She exhaled. "Guilty."

Raven swallowed, wishing that didn't strike a chord. Her leg, Finn. Everything. People wanted her to get over it. To move on.

Be better.

But she couldn't. She'd tried and she couldn't. No matter what way she went about it. No matter how much she wanted to get over it, to be better, she couldn't.

She just. . . couldn't.

Raven was stuck. And no-one else was stuck with her.

Yeah.

It was lonely.

Luna's gaze hardened. "You have a right to your anger, Raven. Don't ever let anyone make you think otherwise."

Huh. She hadn't expected that. Hadn't thought that, of all people, Luna would be the one encouraging her to lean into her anger, rather than away from it. The feeling seemed a hindrance, if not an antithesis, to her way of life. The peace she determinedly catered for herself - and those around her, if they would only invite it in.

Speechless, Raven could barely manage a short, stilted nod. Luna's expression eased, a warmth filling her eyes the longer they held Raven's. . .

Clearing her throat, the mechanic broke their stare, forcing her legs to take up the pattern of walking again. The conversation was far less intimate when they were on the move and she didn't have to look into Luna's eyes. "I don't mind you being friends with Murphy. If that's what you want, then you should go for it."

Luna's smile was wry as she fell into step beside her. "I wouldn't exactly call us friends. But I understand him. I know what it is to hurt someone in a way you can never take back. Someone you care about."

Raven snorted. Of all the bullshit her ears had ever had to endure. . . "Murphy doesn't care about me."

But Luna made a noise of disagreement. "I think he admires you."

"Right. Sure."

"He does." The other woman caught her gaze then, refusing to let her escape it. "But his feelings don't matter in this. Only yours."

Raven's mouth parted. Like the earlier statement on anger, she hadn't been expecting that level of callousness from Luna. But her eyes were hardened with steel, the effect almost penetrating, and Raven knew she meant every word. That in this, Luna considered her own feelings and desires to be the most important thing and that was. . . nice.

Freeing, in a way.

Whatever her earlier thoughts, she didn't need anyone's permission to feel the way she did - fuck that - but still.

It was nice.

Raven gave a short nod, finding she didn't have the words to express this.

But Luna smiled, and she knew she didn't have to. Not with her.

She got it.

She always did.

Always would, probably.

It'd be annoying if it wasn't such a relief.

A minute or so later, they reached the river and Luna inspected it for a time, seeming satisfied with what she found. Though to Raven, it just looked like any other river. Well, okay, that frog over on the opposite bank looked a little peculiar. . .

Was that a third eye?

"We'll have to follow it to see if it connects to the ocean. If it doesn't, it should be safe."

Right. The beach was a no-go. Raven didn't think that the radiation had spread this far yet - when she and Luna had visited the dock the other day, what few fishes she'd glimpsed in the water had certainly given off the impression of being happy and healthy (you know, for fish) - but best not to risk it. Even if that wasn't the case, Luna had been firm in her refusal to harvest anything from the sea, body stiffening at the mere suggestion.

The last thing the former leader wanted to do was feed poison to anyone else. Honestly, Raven was a little surprised that she'd volunteered to go fishing in the first place, knowing how pervasively the guilt of what had happened to her clan still clung to her.

But she wasn't about to question it. She wanted to believe that this was a sign that Luna was starting to heal - to forgive herself.

Hoped it was.

Raven glanced to the left and right of the river, though both directions looked much the same. "Which way do we go?"

Luna pointed to the left. "The land slopes downhill. If this river connects to the sea, it'll do so there."

"And if it doesn't?"

She smiled. "Then we can get started."

That would be a relief. She liked her walks with Luna but this suspense was killing her.

Fortunately, they seemed to be at the tail end of the river and only had to walk along it for half an hour to discover that it petered out into a small lake.

Raven stared at it, hip aching. The sight was slightly underwhelming through the haze of fatigue she'd been battling since. . . well, since waking up in that dropship with the mother of all headaches. "Why don't we just fish here?"

"We could." Luna smiled. "But the idea I have is easier - and often more effective."

Intrigued in spite of herself, Raven allowed her to lead a path away from the lake.

Great, more walking.

Still, she wasn't wholly opposed to it. Whilst the pain might make her regret this little excursion later, she was kind of enjoying herself. It was a welcome change of pace being out and away from the lab and all the stresses it contained. She probably shouldn't feel that way, should be anxious and guilty over the fact that she'd abandoned her responsibilities for the day - and a part of her was. But overwhelming that part was relief.

She'd needed the break.

As much as she hated to admit it.

And she suspected that a part of the reason for this expedition was Luna's determination to see that she take one. Oddly, she felt only a small stirring of irritation at this.

She was growing more and more used to the other woman's persistent care. She had a way of applying it that didn't entirely make Raven want to reel around and smack her in the face.

Which was worrying, to say the least.

She'd have to be extra careful not to fall into the motions of such care, to become used to it.

Used to Luna.

Sighing, she set her gaze back on the trickling water at their side. The unceasing background noise wasn't doing wonders for her headache but it did beat listening to Murphy's constant complaints whenever he decided to grace the lab with his presence.

When the fuck was this blasted river going to end?

In truth, the exercise was probably good for her. The pain was always worse on days when her range of movement was stiffly limited - so basically any day she spent hauled up in the lab. Walking helped stretch out her muscles, which tended to have a positive effect on her pain levels.

Just as long as she didn't overdo it.

That was always a fine line to walk and Raven could admit that she hadn't entirely worked out her limits yet - made harder by the fact that, whenever she encountered any, she steamrolled right over them.

She huffed. "I'm not sure I see why it was necessary to walk all this way just to find out if it connected to a lake." Without that little detour, they probably would have made it to their destination by now. "It's not like the sea can mix with the river water up here."

She may understand very little about how the ground operated but she knew enough about gravity and physics to determine that much. The river could flow into the sea but not the other way around.

"Some fish are capable of crossing the divide between saltwater and freshwater. They fight their way against the current, upstream from the sea."

"So. . . naughty fish, then?"

Luna's cheeks pinched in a smile. "They're just doing what they need to in order to survive and propagate."

"Excuses, excuses." Raven sighed, ducking her head in a faulty attempt to avoid the amusement dancing in the other woman's eyes.

The universe had been fucking with Raven when it decided to give Luna such beautiful eyes.

And a smile that could eclipse all others that she had ever been witness to.

Mostly, the universe was just fucking with her.

This was simply the latest piece of evidence presented to convince her of the fact.

Huffing, Raven crammed her hands into her pockets, and hardened her pace.

Fuck the universe.

It had never done anything for her, anyway.

Chapter Text

"I am being tested. The human capacity for survival is being tested."

- Russian physicist Anatoli Bugorski, the man who survived the highest acute radiation dose in history. He survived 300,000 rads. 100,000 rads is considered to be a fatal dose for everybody.

"Let's stop for a few minutes," Luna said, already slowing her pace in disregard of the putout expression on the other woman's face. She knew her suggestion would not be easily appreciated - or accepted.

"I'm fine," Raven insisted and Luna tried for a genuine smile, one that would put the Sky girl at ease. She set a hand against a nearby tree, accepting that for now she needed the support it could provide.

"I know." Though she'd seen the other woman falter more than a few times, face straining through a grimace, and doubted the veracity of her words. However, Luna knew better than to voice this. "But I'm not."

Raven's eyes widened and she stumbled over to her, hands out, seeking to touch, to steady if need be, but not daring to connect. "What's wrong?"

Luna suppressed a smile at her concern, so strongly given even when the mechanic herself couldn't stand to be on the receiving end of it.

"I'm just tired," she murmured. "My stamina isn't what it once was. But it will get there."

In truth, she was still weak from the radiation sickness. Abby had warned her that it would take time for her body to recover from the damage her organs had endured before the radiation had been filtered out of her system. She'd also cautioned that there was a possibility she may never fully recover.

Her immunity to the radiation now didn't mean that her body hadn't been vulnerable to its effects when it was still in her blood. She'd been as close to death as any of her clan (and still couldn't understand why she hadn't been allowed to pass with them, why her body remained chained to this desiccating existence).

Only time would tell if there were to be any long-term consequences of that close escape.

Luna wasn't overly concerned. At this point, it didn't appear as though the nightblood solution had much hope of being realized. Which meant, in a few short weeks or even days, everyone would be dead.

Everyone except Luna.

She had no care for what her health would be like if such a calamity came to pass, nor if it would weaken her own chances of survival.

The truth was, she didn't care to survive.

Not in the future she saw coming.

Likely she would. Because she always survived. Likely, her instincts or fate would pull their strings and death would pass her by.

But she wouldn't bat an eye if it did not.

"Do you need to sit down?" Raven was already looking around somewhat frantically and Luna didn't doubt that if she asked it of her, the other woman would race back to the lab to procure a chair just to make sure she was as comfortable as possible.

(though the torture devices they had in the lab were unlikely to be of any help in that regard)

It was touching. She'd thought she'd lost the right to anyone's concern when Nyko died. She hadn't expected to receive such care ever again, least of all from a Sky Person.

Luna reached out a hand, laying it on the mechanic's tense arm as she offered another smile. "Raven, I'm fine. I just need to rest for a moment."

And she needed Raven to rest before she pushed herself into another night of agonizing pain. Luna knew the other woman barely slept - and that her compulsive need to work herself into exhaustion was only partly the reason. On the nights Luna stayed in the lab, she could hear Raven tossing and turning. One time, she'd heard the sound of muffled, frustrated sobs.

It had taken everything in Luna not to march into that room and pull the younger woman into her arms, to hold her through the pain that never left.

But she knew Raven would have been mortified by such an intrusion, by the knowledge that her vulnerability had been so horrifically on display. So Luna let her be.

Some nights, she haunted the lab, spending the dark hours meditating or crafting jewelry on the offchance Raven might wander in after another failed attempt at catching sleep - it had happened at least twice so far. Ever since Luna's Conclave, sleep had been elusive and recent events had made it even more skittish, near impossible to grasp onto. Luna hadn't been lying when she told Raven that she'd been struggling, or that being in the other woman's presence made that struggle less pronounced.

But she knew her close proximity made Raven uncomfortable, knew that invading the mechanic's bedroom in order to increase her chances of getting sleep would be crossing a line, or at the very least pushing things all too far past Raven's comfort zone.

But that was alright. Her training meant that Luna was used to operating on very little sleep and the insomnia that had plagued her since the Conclave only strengthened this ability - even if, in the last few years, she hadn't needed to rely upon it quite so much.

In any case, the lab was as good a place as any to waste the night in. And if Raven sometimes stumbled through the doors, rubbed raw from another nightmare or hours spent trying to sleep through the pain, then Luna would be there. Not to give comfort - for it would only be rejected - but she would be there.

For the time being, it was all she could offer. All Raven would accept from her.

Well, not quite all. . .

She'd noticed that on the days they went for walks - not long ones - that Raven seemed to sleep a little easier and suspected that the movement was a much-needed relief. Luna knew from her own history that sitting around in uncomfortable positions all day did not help a person's pain.

It was one of the reasons she'd suggested they go fishing.

But she had to be careful not to push Raven too hard, past the point of relief and into agony.

She had to be even more careful that the other woman didn't push herself past that point - a task near impossible to succeed in.

No, some rest was needed. For both of them.

(and when the Death Wave came, that rest would be eternal)

Still eyeing her with concern, Raven hovered nearby, not seeming to know what to do with herself.

Luna's lips drew up, unable to hide her amusement any longer, and she took hold of the other woman's hand, tugging her over. "Come stand by me. This tree can support more than just one."

Raven rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath. "I don't need any stupid tree support." But still she obliged and Luna knew she did it for her sake rather than her own.

But that was okay.

For now.

"Sometimes want is enough," she replied, settling back against the tree, content now that Raven was beside her. "You don't have to need something in order for it to be appreciated."

Raven looked like she might argue with that but huffed, apparently deciding it wasn't worth the effort, before she slumped back against the tree, her body far more rigid than the Grounder's.

She'd noticed that Raven had a tendency to distract and deflect. Not just from her own pain, but that of others' as well. If Luna circled something hurtful in conversation, Raven would search for a way out, enforcing a subject change.

She seemed determined to push forward - through everything - refusing to linger.

Luna noticed it most when she spoke of her clan. Of Adria.

Most days, Raven would nearly trip over herself in her rush to divert those conversations, to 'spare' Luna the pain of engaging in them. A direct contrast to how Raven had been during their first walk, when she'd initiated such a conversation herself. It appeared the closer they became, the more Luna's pain seemed to scare her.

And discussing Raven's own pain was out of the question.

Luna didn't mind but it did fill her with some concern. She was more than aware of the consequences that could come from alienating yourself from all pain, pretending that it didn't exist, or searching for a way to ignore that existence. It was a balancing act that provided only one ending.

She reflexively touched the back of her head, feeling the deadly reminder of uneven skin, remembering larger, rougher fingers that had once touched that place so tenderly.

The same fingers that had eventually held her down, forced her head underwater. Luna could feel them as they gently cradled her face after wrenching her back up for rationed air, combing through the soaked and tangled mess of her hair.

But those weren't the same fingers.

And that wasn't the same man.

Derrick had died a stranger to her. Gone before she ever had the chance to drive the knife in.

That didn't make killing him any easier, though.

Swallowing, Luna took her hand away, trailing it over the sprig of rosemary that resided in her hair. She took a breath, inhaling the reassurance of its scent.

She wouldn't force Raven to talk. That was likely to do more harm than good. Talking had to be her choice and only when she was ready to partake in it.

But that didn't mean that Luna couldn't talk. A part of her hoped that the more she unraveled herself, the more hurts she made open to Raven's inspection, the more the other woman would become comfortable with returning the favor.

And... Raven was very easy to talk to.

She liked talking to her.

Even about the things that hurt. Perhaps especially about those.

Luna closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of rosemary as she allowed the weight of the tree to support her, mind wandering. . .

"Normally, the recovery time for radiation sickness ranges from several weeks to two years, if the person survives," Abby started. "But we have no idea how your blood will affect that - if it will in fact affect it at all. And then there are the possible long-term complications like cancer or infertility."

Luna thought somewhat bitterly that the sickness might have managed to solve one of her problems in that regard. The ability to bear children was something that she'd often wished she could discard, the risk of passing on her genes a fear that had plagued her ever since the Conclave.

She'd loved Adria no less for the fact that she hadn't come from her own womb. Her heart had been utterly and completely devoted to her. In truth, Adria had been easier to love because she bore no trace of Luna inside of her.

She had no need to birth a child in order to love it and she rather wished that infertility and nightblood went hand in hand - though that would have thrown a spanner in the Fleimkepas' plans.

If this was the universe finally deciding to correct that mistake, it was seven years too late.

Not that it hardly mattered now. Nyko was right. There would be no more Conclaves in the future. No more novitiates tasked with the duty to kill or die from birth.

It was cruel that something she'd spent so much of her life praying for no longer brought any relief. The cost of receiving it had been too great.

And how ironic, that now when having a child with nightblood was no longer something to be feared, she may have lost the ability to have children altogether.

Luna hadn't decided yet how she felt about that.

Nightblood or no nightblood, she wasn't sure bringing a child into this world would ever be anything but cruel.

She certainly had no wish to at the moment.

Still, it was yet another choice that may have been taken from her and that was slightly harder to come to terms with.

And there was yet more irony to be had.

Though Luna's opinion of her blood hadn't changed, she'd gone from being disgusted at the thought of passing it on to someone else, to actively praying that the Sky People would succeed in managing to do so on a grand scale.

The spirits were surely laughing at her.

If they deigned to think of Luna at all.

"Right now, I'd say most - If not all - of the radiation in your body has been filtered out, but you're still weak because your bone marrow hasn't finished replacing the cells the radiation damaged or destroyed." Luna wondered whether she should interrupt Abby for clarification - she had no idea what cells or bone marrow were - but found that she didn't care enough to do so. She was mostly uninterested in everything the healer had to say. It was of little consequence to her now. What use was a healthy body in a world of death? "But even with the radiation gone, it was still present in your body long enough - and at a high enough dose - to do damage. Though, from what I've seen, not as much as would be expected." Abby hesitated. "There are tests I can do to try and determine the extent of the damage and whether it's temporary or permanent..."

"No," Luna said, voice low but firm. "There are more important ways to spend your time right now." Abby hadn't stated as much but she knew this was the reason behind her reluctance. The healer's priority was finding a way to save humanity, not wasting time trying to figure out how healthy the one person who was guaranteed to survive might be. If they succeeded in creating nightbloods, Abby could run all the tests she wanted. But not before then.

And, to be honest, Luna had no desire to be poked or prodded anymore than was already required.

Abby didn't protest, which confirmed her suspicions about the healer's priorities more than anything else. But, then, she hadn't expected any different. "If it's any consolation, I don't think there will be any long-term damage. Becca perfected the serum with the intention of protecting the human body from radiation, I'd expect that would include latent side effects."

Abby didn't mention the fact that Becca had designed nightblood to defend against a lower level of solar radiation in space - the radiation the Sky People had adjusted to over generations - which was a far different creature to the levels they were experiencing now, brought on by a nuclear apocalypse. But she didn't have to. Luna had overheard her discussing these concerns with Jackson and she knew that Abby was worried about whether or not nightblood would be enough to counter the effects of the Death Wave - something Becca had never intended for it to do.

With each day, her blood appeared less and less the savior everyone proclaimed it to be.

It would have been vindicating if the consequences weren't so devastating.

"Of course, this is all just hypothetical. In truth, we have no idea how nightblood will affect your recovery. You're already healthier at this stage than anyone would have the right to expect. Your white cell count is still lower but it's rising steadily - and quickly. Soon, it may be as though you were never sick at all."

Unlikely. Even if Luna's body did fully recover, she would never forget the illness that had laid siege to it - not when that very same illness had cost her everything.

In some ways, she preferred to still endure the after-effects of everything that had happened. To feel the pain in her bones just as surely as she did in her heart. She suspected, once it was gone, she'd be left with a disconcerting emptiness. The appearance that everything was fine, everything was better-

when she knew it could never be so again.

The physical malaise at least felt appropriate.

And it was distracting.

Luna needed the distraction. She wasn't ready to return to how she was before this nightmare.

She wasn't ready to wear the body of a woman she could never be again.

"It's the radiation sickness, isn't it?" Raven asked, intruding on the memory. Luna felt the edges of it recede, falling back into the darkness that birthed it. The roughness of the bark needling through the fabric of her glove was grounding. She glanced over, pressing the pads of her fingers into the rough terrain, urging it to keep her present as her mind traversed the path back to Raven's question.

Luna nodded in answer, watching the travels of a ladybug as it climbed the outer casing of her glove. Costia always said they were gifts sent by the spirits, meant to bestow gifts on whomever they deemed worthy. If one landed on you, then a wish should be voiced.

But Luna had too much to wish for - too many impossible wishes, too many lost things whose return she so desperately hungered for - to voice just one. So she stayed silent.

"I'm not fully healed. I look it but. . ." Well, the effects were still there. Muted, fading by the day.

But there.

Certain death was not an easy thing to heal from.

She suspected being drained of her blood wasn't helping, either.

Raven's gaze flickered to her and away again. "You've never said anything."

Luna lifted a shoulder. "I've felt far worse in my life and I understand what it is to heal, the time it takes. This will pass. I don't need to bring it into the light in order to make it do so."

Her pain - her physical pain - was temporary.

Unlike Raven's.

And she was content to watch it pass with little acknowledgment.

There was a time when Luna had craved pain.

Needed it.

These days, a part of her still did.

So this she could more than handle.

"Still," Raven hesitated. "You could have said something. To me, at least. You didn't have to keep it to yourself."

Another person might have pointed out the hypocrisy of this statement but Luna simply nodded. If there was any whom she'd wish to voice such things to it was Raven - whatever the other woman's reticence when it came to admitting any ounce of physical distress herself. "I know. But there hasn't really been much cause to speak of it. Until now."

She wasn't like Raven. She didn't feel the need to hide her pain or discomfort, and she wasn't threatened by the thought of other people seeing it.

Luna simply hadn't said anything because it hadn't interested her to do so. She'd felt no need or desire to mention her body's weakened state, so she hadn't.

In truth, she had far too many other things on her mind.

But today, voicing it had been beneficial. Today, she'd been able to use her pain to keep Raven from fanning the flames of her own. She was grateful to it for that.

The mechanic nodded slowly, seeming to draw some understanding from what her words. "Okay."

"How's your leg?" A risk to ask but Luna weighed that against her desire to see Raven grow more comfortable in sharing her pain - in discarding the opinion that it was a weakness to do so - and found that it was the worth the risk.

She huffed. "You had to ask?"

Luna only smiled. "Well, we were just talking about my pain. It's only fair."

"Quid Pro quo?"

"Mm."

The other woman heaved a sigh before slumping slightly. "It hurts. But it always hurts. So. . . there's not really anything to say."

Luna nodded, happy for now with what she had been given. She could understand, also, how a hell could become so constant, so unceasing, that the prospect of talking about it promised nothing but exhaustion. No relief. When there was no way to change anything, such talk felt meaningless. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Mm."

"That's it?"

Luna's mouth curved as she glanced at the other woman out of the corner of her eye, noting the incredulous expression. "It was just a question, Raven. I wasn't trying to gain something from you with it, or get you to do anything. I was just checking in."

"Checking in?"

"Yes."

Raven eyed her doubtfully for a moment. "That's all?"

"Yes." Her smile grew.

Raven gnawed on her bottom lip a moment, studying her face, before apparently deciding that she could accept what she saw there and relaxing once more. "Okay."

Luna's smile softened."Not everything has to be a fight, Raven."

She snorted. "Not in my experience."

"Nor in mine, to begin with. But it's something I've learned in recent years."

Something she'd made herself learn.

Luna prayed, after everything - and with all that was still to come - that she didn't forget it.

Raven let out a frustrated breath, squirming slightly. "Look, I know I'm a little defensive. Okay? I know that. It's just a hard habit to break."

"Especially when you don't want to."

Raven turned to her, a brief flash of vulnerability passing over her face before it was gone, a hardness replacing it.

A wall.

That anger then sealed into place.

Luna softened her gaze. "I don't mind. Your defensiveness - I don't mind. And I'm sure you have good reason for it." She smiled, hoping to ease the deeply uncomfortable expression on the other woman's face. "I just want you to know that you don't need it with me. You can choose to use it or not, whatever suits you. We all have walls, Raven. And we all have reasons for them. But if one day you don't feel like maintaining yours, I want you to know that it will be safe for you. To let them down. I won't ever abuse that gift."

Raven had a lot of armor and Luna would never ask her to shed it, not for her sake. All she wanted was for the other woman to know that she could. If she wanted to.

Around Luna, she could.

If the weight of it ever became too crushing.

Raven could be light around her - and Luna would never dare to hold her down. Nor would she force her to discard the burden of her shields, the heavy weight that anchored her to the ground. But if she chose to. . . Luna would let her float away if she could. If Raven allowed her to.

She would never bring her down.

The younger woman swallowed but didn't say anything.

That was okay. They weren't there yet.

They may never be there.

But Luna could hope.

Something darted out of the corner of her eye and she turned, just in time to watch the ladybug fly away, a new wish weighing down her tongue, hoping to take flight.

She kept her silence and watched it depart.

Wishes had never brought her anything in the end.

It was best not to ask for what couldn't be given. Luna had more than learned that by now.

"Some nights the sky wept stars that quickly floated and disappeared into the darkness before our wishes could meet them."

― Ishmael Beah, A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier

Chapter Text

"He who does not know his way to the sea should take a river for his guide."

- Blaise Pascal

They rested far longer than Raven normally would have allowed - at least, for herself - but she'd had no desire to propel them back onto their course, not now that she was finally noticing how pale Luna's face was. She hadn't been like that when they first got to the island, Raven was almost certain of it. Though, she could admit that, in the beginning, she hadn't really been all that interested in taking stock of Luna's physical appearance.

But she was noticing now.

And she didn't like what she was seeing.

Mostly because there wasn't really all that much to see. Apart from the slight paleness and more obvious bruising under Luna's eyes - it would be no surprise to Raven if sleep was still hard to come by after everything - there was little to take note of.

She looked fine.

Tired maybe, but fine.

Except she wasn't.

And it unnerved Raven that she couldn't see it.

What if Luna got worse and she couldn't see that either?

What if she missed it?

No, she was more than happy to spend half an hour or so lazing by some supportive trees.

And Raven supposed she could admit that she'd kind of needed the rest too.

But only kind of.

She could tolerate worse.

Had tolerated worse.

A little walk wasn't going to do her in. Raven wouldn't let it.

Her brow furrowed as she remembered Luna's words, absentmindedly tracing the thin band around her wrist.

She wondered how the other woman could be so open about her body's weakness. The confession had flowed from her easily - as easily as anything else - and there'd been no shame in her eyes, no defensiveness, not even a trace of self-consciousness. She'd just. . . said it.

Raven couldn't understand it.

Didn't think she'd ever understand it.

But she was starting to get used to that when it came to Luna.

Less easy to get used to was the empathy and compassion the other woman gave out so freely. To her. To Murphy. To anyone.

She'd stated that she didn't mind Raven's defensiveness, had even insinuated that it could be justified. No-one had ever said that to her before. Everyone was always trying to break down her walls, to open her up and fiddle around inside - and growing increasingly frustrated when they couldn't.

(number one reason things had gone sideways with Wick)

No-one seemed to get that Raven couldn't knock down those walls, she could barely even lower them. They were automatic and, even when she tried, she was incapable of finding a mullet strong enough to demolish them.

But she rarely tried.

Because Raven didn't want to demolish them. She needed them. Needed them as much as she needed food or water - more than, really, or so it seemed most days. Needed those walls if she was to stand any chance of getting them all through this, of saving her people. Saving everyone.

Raven needed to be safe.

But nobody understood that.

Nobody, it seemed, except Luna.

( 'We all have walls, Raven. And we all have reasons for them. But if one day you don't feel like maintaining yours, I want you to know that it will be safe for you. At least around me. I won't ever abuse that gift.' )

She closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the overwhelming panic the memory of those words evoked in her.

Because Raven believed them. She believed Luna.

And she shouldn't.

She really, really shouldn't.

And she had to remember that. Had to clench her hands, feel the bite of her nails into her palms and remember.

Because Raven had only ever let two people past those walls.

And the resulting pain was worse than anything her body had to give her.

She couldn't let Luna in. Not like that.

(hated that a part of her still wanted to)

"Ready?" the other woman's voice startled Raven from her thoughts and she flinched, eyes snapping open.

Luna was watching her carefully, expression unreadable, and for a moment Raven feared that she would ask her what she was thinking, what was wrong - as if there weren't a million answers that could be given to that question at any given time - but she didn't.

Of course, she didn't.

And Raven resisted the urge to sigh with relief. "Yep."

Luna's lips creased momentarily - flickering into what might be a smile - before she touched Raven's hand - so briefly that she missed the urge to pull away - and then turned, continuing on. Luckily, they only had to walk a further thirty minutes before they reached their destination.

"The flow of water is diminished here," Luna observed, once they'd halted. "It's a good place. And the fish are small," she continued, pointing out a few darting shapes in the water bed. "But not too small."

Raven didn't know why they needed the flow of water to be 'diminished' or for the fish to be small but Luna seemed confident that it was a necessity or whatever, so she wasn't about to object. "So. . . do we need to like get a stick or something?"

She glanced around her for any suitable candidates. The pictures and videos she'd seen of people fishing on the Ark had definitely involved sticks. Long ones. And string.

Did they bring any string?

But Luna shook her head. "Not today."

"We must begin thinking like a river if we are to leave a legacy of beauty and life for future generations."

― David Brower

Luna had grown used to fishing on the deep sea, made easier by the fact that ocean life flocked to the oil rig in droves. The dilapidated platform functioned as an artificial reef and had become something of a breeding ground and nursery. When one dived under the water, schools of fish swarmed the darkness, and through that storm it was possible to make out the sponges and corals that clung steadfast to pylons. This bounty of life was easy pickings, though her people were always careful not to harvest too much, wary of destroying the little ecosystem that had developed long before they were born.

Larger animals such as sea lions and dolphins would plow through the smorgasbord, eating their fill. Luna had always dreamed that one day she would see a whale but, as far as she knew, there had been no sightings of the majestic being in over a hundred years.

It was an oasis. A haven for life in the deep.

(and she missed it every day)

Their main source of food came from what they could find out on the open sea, in their boats, and Luna knew her way around that process like the back of her hand. Knew which creatures to expect, which ones to aim for, and the best methods for catching them.

There certainly wouldn't be any giant lampreys to harpoon in the stream at their feet, which was somewhat disappointing. But before Floukru, Derrick had taught her how to hunt for fish on land, in rivers and lakes, ponds and estuaries, along the shorelines of the sea.

Many such places had fish traps set up, rocky formations constructed at the narrow point in rivers, where the water was swift. Some of these structures were so ancient they belonged to a past Luna had only heard about in nighttime tales or hidden away in the pages of books that lined the Tower's library. They were born to a time far removed from her people. A time before the Dark Days, the original Praimfaya. Now each was the property of a particular village or clan. To harvest fish from another's territory was to invite death and she and Derrick had wisely avoided such places. But he had taught her how to make nets and lures, spears that could be used to pull fish from the depths. He'd taught her how to collect the bounty from tidal pools and to use what would not fill their bellies to bait creatures that could. Most importantly, he had taught her how to be mindful in her hunting, to understand that nothing lasted forever if you used it all at once.

Greed. There was no place for it if you wanted to survive. If you wanted life to survive.

Only take what you need and use all of what you take. Return to the world those creatures that have not yet grown to their full potential; and with many, it was best to leave the females to ensure continued population. A cycle of preservation. Of life.

But there was no need to worry about that now. Praimfaya was coming once again and what they did not take would be laid to waste in a manner of weeks.

The time for caution had passed. They had failed to exercise it properly and now the opportunity was lost.

Humanity had run out of chances. There would be no more. No matter what the Sky People believed.

Luna wondered how much of the world would survive the coming blaze.

Whether it would all turn to ash, just as the first Commander had. Just as her family, Lincoln, and Lexa had.

Just as her clan had.

Raven might know but Luna wasn't ready yet to receive the answer. She wasn't sure she ever would be.

Not that it mattered. Time didn't care for her preparedness. It would force the future on her, no matter how hard she resisted, or tried to resist.

Time revealed all things.

It was the one force humanity couldn't conquer. Proof of their mortality. Their helplessness.

And their arrogance.

Inwardly, Luna applauded it for that.

"Poison?" Raven sputtered."That's your great idea?"

Luna concealed a smile at the look of bewilderment on her face. "It's not as bad as it sounds."

The other woman blinked, far from mollified. "It's poison."

"It's a plant toxin. That's all." And, yes, technically poison but not the kind they needed to worry about.

Not the kind that filled little children's blood and made them burn from the inside out. Not the kind that cut a path through a sanctuary, destroying all those who resided within.

Not that kind.

Many plants were poisonous in some form or another but that didn't mean they were without their uses. Those same plants could provide medicine, edible parts, and fibers.

Being capable of harm didn't exclude them from the ability to aid. They were so much more than just that one quality.

"They're from the scraba plant," she explained, holding out the collection of nuts she'd gathered during their last walk. Raven eyed them with no small amount of trepidation. Perhaps Luna shouldn't have told her about the occasional adventures she'd had with poisonous flora in her youth. "We utilize it and other similar plants for soap. Through that, we figured out that it had other uses." Whilst washing clothes in a stream, people had discovered fish floating to the surface around them, utterly immobile and incapable of escape - a bounty to be scooped up and eaten at the ready, with minimal effort. But that was many generations ago. Now it was just common knowledge to anyone whose diet consisted heavily of fish.

Derrick had taught her.

"They breathe the poison in, directly through their gills into their bloodstream. They can't escape it. Not in time." If the current was fast or the water was high, then it could dilute the poison and the fish would revive more quickly, or not be affected at all. Some of the larger ones may remain impervious, regardless. But in these conditions, with what they had before them, there would be no way out. Luna was confident of that.

Raven's brow furrowed. "Will it kill them?"

"No. Just stun them. It'll wear off soon enough so we have to be quick."

She remained unsettled. "Will it poison us?"

Luna stilled and from the look on the other woman's face, she regretted the question immediately. But it had been a pertinent one. "No. Some plant toxins used for this can be harmful to humans - in those cases, you need to gut and clean the fish immediately - but not the one we're using today."

Despite her words, she felt suddenly ill at ease. She had done this dozens of times, she knew it was safe. But she couldn't get the image of Adria's suffering body out of her head, the strangled gasps for breath in her ear. "It's safe."

"Okay." Raven clapped her hands together, a little too forcefully. "Let's get started then."

Banishing the past from her consciousness, Luna tried to smile as she retrieved a piece of coral from her satchel. She could feel the fascination in Raven's gaze as she used it to grate the nuts, before wrapping the shavings up into individual leaves that she'd collected during their walk. The final touch was to poke holes into each of the parcels, and then it was done.

Afterwards, Luna stood up, motioning for the younger woman to follow her as she positioned herself behind a tree, watching the water closely.

"What are we waiting for?"

"The fish sensed our presence and many have darted away. We need to wait for them to feel at peace again if we want to catch more than a few."

Raven frowned and craned her head to peer into the shallows, confirming that Luna was right. When they'd first arrived, there'd been dozens of shadows circling around, now only a few shapes were capable of being made out.

Waiting, Luna handed Raven one of the nets she'd crafted. Admittedly, they weren't her best work - suffering from the pace with which she'd rushed through them and how crippled her focus had become over the last few weeks - but they would do for the task ahead.

The mechanic looked amused. "You know we have like a boxload of nets back at the lab, right? Not sure what Becca was using them for but that storage level seems to have a bit of everything in it. There's like fifty umbrellas."

Beka Praimheda certainly seemed to have been an odd individual. Luna's thoughts were always conflicted when it came to the deceased Commander. On the one hand, she had saved her people. Granted them the ability to step out into the light and become part of the world again.

But she was also the one responsible for the blood in Luna's veins. The blood that had steadily destroyed her life. She had crafted the Flame that cost Luna the lives of her friends and the man she loved.

A 'boxload of nets' and 'fifty umbrellas' would never make up for that.

She swallowed and pushed all thoughts of Beka Praimheda aside.

The dead were gone. It didn't matter what she felt. What she thought. Beka had escaped to a place where such things couldn't touch her.

(a flicker of envy stirred in Luna's belly. . .)

She'd been aware of the nets Raven spoke of but she had always crafted her own hunting tools after she'd left Polis and could admit to needing the familiarity of old habits now. Besides, she'd found the reliable process of weaving soothing and an effective method in alleviating her boredom in recent days. "These work too."

Raven just smiled and turned away, gripping the net in her hands as she eyed the water somewhat cautiously. "If I trip over and fall in I'm gonna be so pissed at you."

Luna hid a grin. "I'll catch you before you fall."

"Uh-huh." She didn't sound convinced.

Slowly, the fish returned to their previous numbers and, taking a breath, Luna tossed the packets of poison into the water.

The past came alive.

Chapter Text

I was still water, held by my surroundings. I am now a river, carving my own path."

- Scott Stabile

The Fleimkepas had taught Luna how to fight, how to kill - how to lead.

But they had never taught her how to survive on her own. They had impressed upon her the inherent loneliness of her duty, of the isolation that would one day surround her heart. But there had been no need to prepare her for physical loneliness. For a life without people.

She was natblida. If she survived to become Heda, she would never have a life without people. Her life would be her people.

And so, there had been no need to teach her to survive on her own, for she would never be expected to. It was true that, emotionally, a Commander must be alone. But, physically, being alone could never be an option.

And if she never became Commander, well. . . she wouldn't be alive to be alone.

(one of death's few mercies)

Needless to say, this had created problems for Luna after her Conclave, when she had outgrown the limits of Nyko's sanctuary. Whilst the healer tried to teach her as much as he could before he abandoned her to the mercies of the world, there was a lifetime of knowledge that could not be packed into mere weeks. She knew he had been reluctant to let her go for that reason - among others - but she had outstayed her welcome. Luna knew from the moment she became aware of herself and her surroundings, of the unceasing horror that she must now make her reality, that she could never stay with Nyko.

It was too dangerous. For him. For his family. For Lincoln. And for his village.

It was too dangerous for Luna as well, who knew it would be wise to put as much distance between herself and Polis as possible. As much distance between herself and anyone who had ties to the capitol, or even the faintest understanding of its workings.

All in all, it would be best to distance herself from people entirely, whatever their affiliations.

To survive, she would have to be alone.

More alone than even the Commander.

It shouldn't have been so daunting. After all, hadn't she made herself alone the day she killed her brother? Hadn't she sacrificed love and companionship for the sake of survival?

It should not have been so difficult to do again.

But it was.

Luna soon found that she and solitude were not at all favorable companions. Far from it.

The memory of that time hounded her now, stoking a growing unease at the prospect of what she was soon to face, if everything failed, as it was likely to.

The loneliness Luna felt at that time in her life would be nothing compared to what awaited her.

But she wouldn't think about that. Not now.

Not with Raven's grumbles in her ear as she grudgingly waded into the water after her, grimacing at its icy temperature. She stumbled a bit on the uneven terrain and Luna held out a hand, hoping she would take it. Reluctantly, the mechanic accepted the offer, allowing the Grounder to guide her the rest of the way into the river, retracing the steps Luna had already taken and knew to be safe.

Once they'd stopped, Raven's hand remained in hers for a breathtaking moment, its owner forgetting the need to retreat. But then she cleared her throat, ripping the limb from Luna's grasp and rubbing it awkwardly over the back of her pants.

Luna smiled, and set to work.

The first time she had gone fishing, she'd fashioned a scoop net from a branch. She'd bent it over into a circle, fastened it together with some hemp cord and then ran about, collecting as many spider webs as she could to form a 'net' around the wooden circle. By the end, she'd managed to capture almost a dozen minnows in a nearby stream.

This was back when she was still on her own and struggling to figure out how to survive without the people and resources that were once so readily available to her. Though Luna's creation had been rudimentary - not nearly as efficient or refined as the tools she would go on to make - it had worked. Her belly had been full for the first time in months but, more importantly, she'd felt useful again. Like she was capable of more than just fading away into some forgotten existence.

She could do things.

She could make it.

But this small seed of pride did nothing to overgrow the gaping loneliness in her life.

Even if she could survive on her own, she hadn't been sure that she wanted to.

Luna wondered how it was that, all these years later, she was facing that same dilemma again, and that the answer still remained elusive to her.

No, that was a lie.

Luna knew the answer.

(she'd found it years ago)

She just didn't like it.

Not that it mattered. Odds were that she'd be forced to face it, one way or the other, whether she liked it or not.

As it turned out, Raven's fears about falling in were not unfounded.

Luna was in the process of scooping another fish into her net when she heard a yelp. Looking up with wide eyes, she was just in time to see a large squawfish dart between Raven's legs, too big to be subdued by the toxin - and looking more than a little miffed at the current state of affairs. Startled, the mechanic jerked away, her foot sliding across slippery rocks.

The fall was inevitable.

Heart catching in her chest, Luna abandoned her net and sprang forward, catching Raven just as she toppled towards the water's surface. Still somewhat weak from recent events - and the gratuitous blood draws - she wasn't wholly prepared for the weight of the other woman and she'd forgotten just how slippery river bed rocks could be.

Her right foot wavered a horrible second before giving out under her.

Raven yelped again as they crashed towards the water, Luna having just enough time to ensure that she took the brunt of the fall.

The icy stream hit her like a slap, enveloping her form, rising up around her like a punishing fist. She felt it clench shut, trapping her as the air in her lungs fought for release.

She couldn't let it escape.

She needed it.

She couldn't-

There was something heavy on top of her, though the weight was alleviated by the water, the water that was now rushing through her hair, forcing its way into her ears, her nostrils.

She gasped and the merciless liquid cried its delight, gushing into the last vestiges of her that had remained untouched. She croaked, thrashed with all her strength, certain there were hands on her head, driving her down, though in the darkness she couldn't see.

Something seized Luna's arms and she jerked away.

No.

No!

Derrick was beside her, beneath her and she felt the shuttering rise of his chest as she held her hand against it, as if that could somehow urge his life's blood to retreat, flow back along the path it had taken, back into him. As if she could undo the damage of plunging a knife into his heart.

No.

What had she done?

Not again.

This couldn't be happening again.

What had she done?

Sharp nails dug into her upper arms and, once more, she tried to squirm free but they were too persistent for that. In the next instant, she was being wrenched up, her face breaking the surface of the water as icy air smacked her skin.

She knew, if she opened her eyes, Derrick would be there.

But he wouldn't be Derrick.

Not her Derrick.

He would never be hers again.

"Luna!"

She flinched, startled by the feminine voice.

It didn't belong here.

Luna didn't know how she knew that, but she did.

Soft hands cupped her face-

(warm, rough, masculine hands, cradling her, holding her, these hands could never hurt her - oh, but they had, they had. . .)

These hands didn't belong here either.

"Luna?"

She opened her eyes, a young woman's face swimming into view and she wondered at the distress she saw there.

Who-

"Raven?"

Life is like the river, sometimes it sweeps you gently along and sometimes the rapids come out of nowhere. "

― Emma Smith

Raven's eyes squeezed shut as she felt gravity assault her and the next thing she knew, water was folding around her body, rushing through the useless barrier of her clothes and freezing her blood.

Jesus fuck!

This was a terrible idea. A horrible idea. The worst idea ever to be idea-d.

And she was going to laud that over Luna until the end of time - or until they all disappeared in a fiery blaze, as was set to happen any week now. Lucky for Luna, she wouldn't have to put up with Raven's ire for very long.

But God this was cold!

She winced, grateful that the other woman's body had taken the brunt of the fall and her own was only partway submerged. Raven's face and shoulders had been spared, at least, and the muscles there were singing their relief.

She tried not to notice how soft Luna's body was under hers, the way her curves slid against Raven's, lubricated by the water.

Her skin tingled.

So. . . this is a disaster. But, you know, not a total loss.

(God, she was going to hell)

Grumbling inwardly, Raven opened her eyes, relieved to find that the world still looked pretty much the same, even if it was from a different angle.

Have trees always been this tall?

She was knocked out of her stupor by violent squirming and splashing beneath her.

Luna.

Right, she should probably get off her now. That'd be the polite thing to do. Even if it was Luna's fault that this had happened in the first place.

Although the real blame lay squarely in the fins of that stupid fish that attacked her. That thing had an attitude on it, which Raven might normally have been able to respect if said attitude hadn't been directed at her.

The body under Raven jolted and, still somewhat dazed, she looked down in confusion. She expected to be met by soft brown eyes - hopefully appropriately apologetic and full of contrition - but was startled to find rippling water instead.

What the fuck?

Why hadn't Luna come up yet? Raven didn't think she was that heavy.

Okay, best to move off just in case.

If you drown the natblida messiah, Raven, you'll never hear the end of it.

Awkwardly, she moved herself off the other woman, landing with an ungraceful splash beside her. She waited but Luna didn't rise. Instead, Raven noticed her movements becoming increasingly more frantic, even desperate.

Eyes widening, the thought occurred to her that maybe Luna couldn't get up. What if she'd gotten caught on something, something that was now holding her down?

Shit.

Raven grabbed the arms before her, which were just visible through the water's murky surface, and pulled. Only to be met with resistance. Her brow furrowed as Luna jerked away.

What the fuck?

Undeterred, Raven reached for her again, tightening her grip this time and heaving Luna up, ignoring her desperate protests.

The Grounder gasped as she broke the surface, though it quickly devolved into choking as she proceeded to hack up a disturbing amount of river water.

Shit.

Raven stared, wide-eyed. Did she just nearly drown Luna?

The other woman's eyes were still closed and even through her coughing, she continued to twist away from Raven's hold. Horrified, the mechanic let go. But she couldn't take the distress she saw there, the panic, and lunged forward once more, this time seizing her face.

"Luna!"

She flinched back, trying to squirm away and Raven wondered if she should allow it. The last thing she wanted to do was increase her panic. But she also didn't want Luna to hurt herself, or run the risk of falling back into the water.

"Luna?"

Raven cupped her face more insistently, relieved when at last she opened her eyes.

They were watery and glazed, lacking recognition, but they were open.

"Hey, you okay?" Raven asked, the words feeling utterly useless on her tongue - not to mention, inappropriate.

Of course she's not fucking okay.

Luna stared back at her in confusion, as though she couldn't quite place Raven's face or her reason for being there.

How much water had she swallowed?

She stroked her thumbs over the crest of Luna's cheeks, trying to ease away the trembles she felt there. Finally, comprehension seemed to dawn in the other woman's eyes and she let out a shaky exhale, leaning forward into her touch.

"Raven?"

The mechanic sagged in relief, unconsciously leaning into her, skin beginning to vibrate under the force of Luna's shaking.

She must be freezing.

"What was that?" Raven asked, keeping her voice soft but unable to help the edge of franticness to it. "Did you get caught on something?" Her hair was pretty long - and plentiful - maybe it had snagged on a branch or stone, gotten trapped?

Or some other asshole fish had come along and decided to partake in a game of tug o' war.

God, that must have been terrifying.

And Raven was too busy being aroused to fucking notice. She clenched her jaw, wishing she could wrench this stupid attraction out of her and hurl it into space.

Luna said nothing, just breathed in stops and starts as though she couldn't quite command her lungs to work again.

Or maybe she'd hit her head when she went down?

Shit.

"Did you hit your head on something?" Raven asked, hands darting from Luna's face as she moved to examine her head, or what parts of it she could see.

If she was injured, what would they do?

They were a pretty long distance from the lab. She didn't like the thought of making Luna walk that far in order to receive Abby's attention - especially not with a head injury - but Raven liked the thought of going to get help and leaving her here alone even less.

Luna closed her eyes again, letting out a shuddering breath. "No. I'm fine."

The weakness of her voice made that somewhat disputable and Raven continued her search. Head injuries were fucking dangerous. She'd seen people die from the most innocent of knocks.

Hands caught her wrists. "Raven, I'm fine."

Luna's gaze was steady when the mechanic allowed their eyes to meet again, but her hands still shook.

"Your head okay?" Raven had to be sure.

Luna nodded.

"Okay," she breathed out, relaxing a little. "Did you get caught on something?"

Luna said nothing, which she took for assent.

Raven winced. "Sorry I landed on you." And then trapped you under the water, very nearly drowning you.

Not her best moment.

(Murphy could never hear of this)

Hands squeezed Raven's arms a moment, the grip nauseatingly weak. "That was the intention. And not in any way your fault." Luna's smile was too tremulous to be comforting. It fled as the Grounder turned her head, looking around them. "But I think we should probably get out now. Before we freeze."

She was still shaking, so not a bad idea.

Instinctively, Raven drew closer to Luna, rubbing her hands up and down the other woman's arms in a poor attempt to return the heat that had been leached from them. Touching Luna had always been a volatile experience, the charged sensation so intimidating that Raven both craved and feared it. She felt none of that conflict now. Her panic and concern were too consuming.

Goosebumps skated against her fingertips as she continued to rub.

Luna was freezing.

But then, so was Raven now that she took the time to notice.

"Wait, are our fish okay?" she glanced about her, zeroing in on the two nets now floating innocently downstream.

Shit.

"We should probably get on that."

Luna sighed.

Chapter Text

"And between the sand and stone

Could you make it on your own?"

-  Wherever You Will Go by The Calling

"So, did the Flame Keepers teach you how to do this?"

Luna shook her head in answer, counting the fish that hadn't managed to escape from their nets during the chaos. It should have taken less than a minute but her mind, which had become sluggish and chilled in the aftermath of their fall, struggled to keep count. Every few seconds, she found herself having to start again, her patience wearing thinner and thinner. "No. These kinds of survival skills weren't of much interest to them. They taught us a bit about hunting and the like, enough that we could get by for a short time if we ever found ourselves stranded alone, but more than that wasn't necessary. Commanders don't live alone and they can rely on others for their needs."

This was something she'd only come to take stock of after her Conclave.

It was a significant lack of foresight on the part of her mentors. For all of Titus' teachings on the necessity of isolation when it came to being the Commander, he had failed to grasp just how dependent each and every novitiate was on the company of others.

But, then, emotional solitude was far different from physical isolation - and Titus was a devotee of the first.

Of course, there was always the chance that this oversight had been intentional.

An attempt to make nightbloods as dependent on the people they served as those very people were on them. A binding trap. If that was the case, then she felt a renewal of contempt for her teachers.

"So who did teach you?"

"Derrick." Luna said no more, though she knew Raven had to be curious of this name that would occasionally arise in conversation between them. Of everyone, he was the hardest to speak of. The memory of his death - of her own role in it - rushed to the surface, just as it always did; an onslaught she struggled to stand fast against. She would become accustomed to it eventually, just as she had her brother's. But not yet.

It had taken her years to find peace with Sol's memory and Derrick had only been returned to the water little more than a moon ago.

The pain was too fresh.

His passing a blistering wound rather than a scar.

Thankfully, Raven seemed to get the hint and didn't pry. She was more likely than most to understand those things that needed to be left alone.

(inwardly, Luna cursed herself. All the time she'd spent trying to coax the other woman into discussing more painful topics and she was the one shying away.

But Luna knew her limits. And she knew she was teetering close to the border of one right now. If she ever discussed Derrick in full, it would have to be when her emotions were back to a more steady equilibrium, not when her skin felt like a cage she wanted to leap out of)

"It's a good catch," the mechanic observed, seeming almost surprised by the fact as she looked down at their nets. "I was thinking we'd maybe get one or two."

She was right, though Luna was experienced enough not to share her surprise in their good fortune. She'd known when she suggested this method just how bountiful it was likely to prove.

They'd caught twenty-seven fish, enough to last the island's inhabitants three meals if they were divided equally among them. The rest they'd allowed to rejuvenate and go about their merry way. With Praimfaya drawing near, their days were numbered but Luna would not deny them the grace to live through all that remained.

"Normally, I'm far more careful with this method," she started, still sorting through the bundle of slimy scales in her net, even though she had reached satisfaction with her count a minute ago. The repetitive action was close to soothing - and she needed that right now. "It can be unsustainable. If you take too many fish from the same body of water, the population dies out." Luna nodded to herself, remembering the teachings Derrick had passed onto her. The only thing that remained of him. "'Only take what you need and alternate between different water sources to give them time to recover'." Her gaze traveled back to the river, imagining that she could see the poison working its way into the water's every cell and crevice, polluting it as mercilessly as the radiation that had destroyed her beloved sea. "This toxin can be damaging for their environment. Over time, it alters the water source and fish start to die - mostly the smaller and younger ones. It can flow downstream, tainting the rest of the water."

She'd never seen it herself.

Everyone knew the importance of sustaining each and every food source they had access to. Even those who had no care for the world they lived in, understood the necessity of its continued survival if they were to survive as well.

Luna thought of the sea of dead fish she'd woken to one morning, circling the oil rig. Such devastation. In the blink of an eye.

Would the sea ever have the chance to recover the way they allowed these rivers to? Luna supposed her blood would see to it that she found out. Unless such recovery could only be achievable over millennia. She didn't think even nightblood could see her surviving that long.

(her blood wouldn't deny her at least that mercy)

It was more likely that all she had to look forward to was a world of decay. Drained of life and purpose. Utterly removed from the world she had before her now. An empty shell of what was, perhaps never to be filled with life again.

Her blood was indeed a curse, to make her pay witness to such desolation. And if the Sky People failed in their quest to synthesize it, she was the only person who would pay witness to it.

(despite what John might think, that wasn't a miracle)

Blood cooling, Luna gazed into the shimmering surface of the stream, remembering another bed of water that had once provided for her.

"It's said that in the old days, there used to be many fish. The rivers and seas were overflowing." Derrick's voice washed over her, the soothing cadence of it impossible to turn from. "But then the Dark Days ruined that. Many perished. Some survived though. Adapted, became stronger for their misfortune."

It was nothing Luna hadn't heard before. "I heard they started to die long before that. The Dark Days just hastened their demise."

They sat by a tidepool, watching a small school of fish that circled within. Luna was hungry but she dared not rush the man in his process or his teachings. She valued all he had to say far too much.

Derrick was five years older than her and had been on his own for longer than that, much longer than she'd been herself.

Luna couldn't comprehend how he'd done it.

But she wanted to. Hoped he would teach her. If he could.

Derrick nodded at her statement, stuffing the gratings of nut into a leaf. "That may be true. There are other effective ways to fish, Luna, and I will teach you all of them. But I wanted to show you this in case you were ever alone again, without the time or means to make any of our tools."

Her countenance darkened, fingers gripping the rough rock beneath her. "Are you leaving me?" She'd only been in his company for going on a few months now but already she'd grown attached.

That was her fault.

Grow up, Luna. You 're not a child anymore. Of course he's going to leave.

Everybody leaves.

And, usually, that was her fault too.

"What?" Derrick looked startled. "No."

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to discern the verity of his statement. "Then why would I be alone again?"

Derrick's features smoothed. "Hopefully you will never be. But we can't predict where life will take us."

No, we can 't.

Luna had mistakenly believed that such a thing was in her power once. She'd been told so many times what to expect from her future that she couldn't imagine anything else, couldn't foresee a reality in which any other circumstance took place.

But that future had never come to be.

She'd refused to let it.

Sometimes Luna wondered whether she'd made the right choice. The darkness that had seeped into her veins when she thrust the knife into her brother's chest, the darkness that had failed to flee when she yanked it out, had followed her stumbling feet as she made her escape, dogging her steps like a starving pauna, determined to be granted its feast.

Now it had been almost three years and she still felt it around her, in her.

Had felt it most in the aching loneliness that had clung to her in the time before she found Derrick.

She'd been so alone.

And cold.

But around Derrick, she was almost warm and she strived not to grow accustomed to that feeling. Reliant on it.

(knew she was failing)

Luna looked into the tide pool. "I'm never going to be alone again. I'm going to make sure of it."

Derrick hesitated. "Being alone isn't so terrible. It's even peaceful at times. I didn't mind it."

The darkness swirled in her gut, resenting that he had found peace with something she never could. "I hated it."

There'd been nothing to distract her from the thoughts and feelings that constantly assailed her heart. No-one to hold her in the night and tell her it would be okay.

There was only her.

And she was poor company.

"That's because you went from having many to having none," Derrick countered, though not without sympathy. "You had no one and nothing to distract you from your pain. Loneliness in such instances is always an affliction. But if you come to be at peace with yourself, you will not crave the company of others so much."

Luna doubted that. "Why was loneliness different for you?"

"I lost everyone of importance a long time ago. I had to get used to having only myself to love and, over time, that became easier." He touched the sand somewhat tenderly. "And I suppose I always loved this world more than I loved the people in it. There is no loneliness when it is always at my fingertips." He looked up, eyes burning with demand. "Find something that will always be at yours."

It didn't sound so silly.

Perhaps, it was even doable.

She liked him well enough to indulge him in the attempt, at any rate.

Luna looked out at the ocean, contemplating. The waves rose and fell, a steady, never-ending surge of motion. At night, she would lie awake listening to its song, relying on the constant hum to ease her passage into sleep. There'd been no waves in Polis. "They say the sea is eternal."

He nodded. "The sea is a friend unafflicted by mortality, but she is not always loving. She would kill you as soon as she would cradle you."

Perhaps. But she chose to cradle  me . She did not send me down to the depths, though she had her chance.

She had shown restraint where Luna had not. Spared her as she had not spared her brother.

Luna could appreciate the significance of such grace.

She hummed. "So would I. Once. I will not hold that against her."

His lips tilted into the faintest of smiles - his smiles were always small, never large, but they warmed her like they were as big as the sun. She'd waited years to be warm. Was glad she did not have to wait any longer. "Then you will never be alone again."

Luna cleared her throat, brought herself back to the present, to the curious eyes of the woman beside her. When she took in the sun overhead, it did not seem to have passed further down, so she could not have been absent for long. It was hard to tell, though. And growing even harder to pull herself back at all. The past was painful but it also held a comfort the present could no longer provide.

During those lonely years after her Conclave, she had allowed herself to become lost in it. To sink into the memory of things she could never have back.

Luna was less keen to do so now. She knew the consequences. But time would tell whether her reluctance remained.

Time always told.

Luna cleared her throat, tracing her memory back to what she'd been saying when her mind took a wander. It was easy enough to do. She'd had lots of practice in her life. "So we don't use this method often. Restraint is imperative if we want to keep ourselves and the world we live in alive." Her mouth pinched. "But we don't need to worry about that anymore."

The world was dying.

The fish were dying.

If they didn't kill them, the radiation soon would.

It was an unavoidable truth, and one Luna must force herself to come to terms with if she were to have any hope of bearing the future that awaited her.

She could feel Raven's eyes on her, the heaviness of her concern - and perhaps pity - but she didn't care to meet it at the moment. Not while her thoughts were so disjointed, her hands still trembling slightly with each fish she inspected.

She didn't have the energy to reassure Raven that she was okay. A part of Luna feared that one kind word would break her. She couldn't take kindness right now. Her hands, despite the chill of the water, felt hot with the memory of the blood they had once drowned in.

Derrick's blood.

Her brother's blood.

The blood of people she'd vowed to protect.

No, Luna couldn't take the kindness.

". . .[in] the East. . . this [Western] idea of subjecting Nature to the commands or service of man according to his selfish desires has never been cherished. . . Nature has been our constant friend and companion, who is to be absolutely trusted. . ."

- Daisetz Suzuki, 1988

Chapter Text

"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

I am haunted by waters."

― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through it and Other Stories

"So, I had a question," Raven started, eyes cautious, and Luna sensed that she wasn't oblivious to her darkened mood. A pang of guilt hit her. She had meant for this day to be an escape, a distraction from the stress and fears their lives were so embroiled in. She'd wanted to give Raven something else to think about, to remind her that there was still life operating outside the walls of the lab, even if it was close to ending.

(had wanted to remind herself of that too)

And she'd wanted to share some of her world with Raven.

Before it disappeared.

Luna forced a smile, hoping to put the other woman at ease. "Go ahead."

Raven deliberated a moment. "Why are all your Commanders so young?"

The Grounder could tell it wasn't the question she'd originally intended to ask but she wouldn't call attention to that. If the question had related to what happened in the river, to Luna's emotional distress, then she was thankful for the reprieve. It wasn't a conversation she wanted to have right now. She was still coming to terms with that new aspect of herself, and needed more time with it before she could even begin the journey of sharing it with others.

"We have a sharp turn around," Luna answered.

Unintended or not, the question wasn't a complete surprise. Ever since learning of her Conclave, such inquiries had been unceasing and she sensed that it was a constant struggle for Raven not to blurt them out all at once. She was curious by nature.

Luna liked that.

She had been curious too, once. Before she'd discovered more of the world than she could bear.

"We can't afford to wait for nightbloods to reach adulthood when the average life expectancy of a Commander after ascension is six to ten years. Rarely more." Lexa had served longer than six, had fallen months short of making it to ten. That she had survived that long, though, made her one of the more fortunate Commanders. If survival in such capacity could ever be considered fortunate. "If Ontari had ever fully ascended, though, she would have gone down as the shortest-serving Commander in history."

Raven scowled. "Would serve her right." At Luna's almost scolding look, "What? She was a bitch. I never met the chick but I've heard more than enough shit. She killed a bunch of kids for Christ's sake."

"Which would make her no different than any other Commander." Lexa had killed six children. Luna only one. At least, during her Conclave. Before then. . .

She wondered whether Raven's heart would fill with contempt for her, too, if she ever came to know of all the blood that coated her hands, whether she would turn away. Luna was no less deserving of her scorn than Ontari.

It was true that the other nightblood had acted without honor but what did that really matter when, in the end, the result was the same?

Luna couldn't judge her any more than she could judge herself.

And she'd been striving over the years to stop doing that. Striving, striving. . .

Until now.

Now, she no longer had the energy - or the will - to resist such thoughts.

What would even be the point?

All she'd been working for, all she'd hoped for was gone. And there was no chance of it ever returning.

If Luna fell back into self-hatred now it would have little consequence for her future.

Or for the world.

"You are being mean to yourself again," Adria admonished, cupping her face almost sternly.

Luna resisted the urge to smile. "Am I?"

"Yes." She nodded sagely. "I can tell. You go very cold."

Trying to ease the girl's concern, she placed her own hands over the ones on her cheeks, giving them a squeeze. "Do I feel cold to you?"

Adria shook her head, though the look in her eyes made it clear that she thought Luna had just said something very silly. She was seven years old now and had come to the conclusion that most people - especially grownups - could be expected to display a certain level of silliness and it was her job to make sure that such silliness did not get the better of them. "It is not a feeling, it is a look. Your eyes grow cold and you disappear."

Luna swallowed. "I'm sorry, my love. I don't mean to."

"I know," she said simply. "I do it too. But then you bring me back. So I will bring you back." She squinted. "Is it working?"

Luna beamed, embracing the feeling of chubby hands on her cheeks, anchoring her to this moment. "Yes, yes it is."

The gravity disappeared from Adria's face and she broke out in a grin. "Good." The hug came in a rush, eager arms wrapping around Luna as the air was thrust from her lungs. "Don't disappear. Don't go anywhere without me."

She understood the child's anxiety, knew it had plagued her ever since the tragic loss of her entire family. Luna's guilt rose at the knowledge that she had added to that struggle, planted new seeds from which fear could spring. She was aware that just because a person was physically present, didn't mean they weren't gone. And she had a tendency to disappear into her head, to fade from the world.

Some days, it took more than a touch to bring her back. But those periods were growing less frequent, their hold on her waning.

Soon, she hoped, Adria would not have to bring her back at all.

Luna was healing. Achingly slow. But she could feel the pieces of herself knitting back together.

She was becoming whole again.

In some ways, that was terrifying. For what was whole could be shattered, and there were days Luna thought she would prefer to lie in pieces than succumb to the devastation of being torn apart all over again. To break was more painful than being broken, and Luna was all too aware that when you gazed up from the bottom, there was no need to fear the fall. It had already passed.

But she'd watched Adria go through the process of mending these last few years and she did it fearlessly.

She was so strong. So brave.

And Luna was inspired by her every day.

"I won't," she breathed into the girl's hair, clutching her close.

"Promise?" The question was faint, almost fearful.

She swallowed. "I promise."

"Luna?"

She blinked, the warm grip around her disappearing and she had to fight back tears at the loss of it.

Her memory, no matter how good it was, could not compete with the merciless pull of reality.

She took a breath, raised her gaze to Raven, who was watching her with renewed concern. Luna wondered how long she'd been absent this time. Didn't dare to ask.

"Would you rather talk about something else?"

Luna smiled, appreciating the gesture, even if it was unnecessary. It wasn't the conversation that was taking her back to the past, it was the rippling river at their side, the icy hold it still had on her heart. "No, this is fine. There's not much more to say, anyway." Unless Raven decided that she had more questions, which she might. Her curiosity was insatiable - and Luna was glad for it. "But the short lifespan of a Commander is another reason why nightbloods have to reach a certain age before competing in the Conclave." A small mercy. "Otherwise, there wouldn't be enough candidates for ascension every time one dies."

By waiting until they'd matured to the age of eleven, it meant that they weren't obliterating the pool of novitiates all in one go. Those that were younger would be given more time to train and reach a certain level of maturity, hopefully by the time a Commander was needed once more.

If all nightbloods were entered into a single Conclave, then it ran the risk that the only future candidates would be babies and toddlers, incapable of ruling.

Not even the Flame could transform an infant into a leader.

Raven snorted. "So you guys still have some sense then?"

Luna resented the insult to her people but she couldn't blame Raven's poor opinion of them after everything she had been exposed to. She hoped to change her mind. Eventually.

Luna wasn't always favorable when it came to her own people either - so many of her scars had been carved by their bloodthirst and indifference, their ruthlessness. Most days she felt divorced from her kind, resentful. Most days, they did not feel like her people at all. But the faults Luna found in them she knew she could find in any other race. The ground hadn't made them this way, their nature had.

And none of them could escape it.

Not even her.

"We're not senselessly brutal, Raven," Luna chided, though her voice remained gentle. "There's a reason for everything we do."

Even if those reasons were unsatisfactory at best.

But even if they weren't, no reason could ever erase the blood on her hands, or close the hole that had been ripped in her heart.

"So you've said." Raven sighed then, ire disappearing in the face of tired regret. "Sorry. I guess I'm still struggling with the whole making kids kill kids thing."

She smiled at her. "Would it be odd if I said that I like that you're struggling?"

Raven's brow furrowed. "Guess it depends on why you like it."

"Because no-one else ever has," Luna replied, smile still in place, though she felt it weaken now. "Struggled, I mean. Except me. And I was. . ." She shook her head, "made to feel perverse for that. Even those like Nyko, Lincoln, and Derrick - who disagreed with the tradition, if only privately - still understood it. Accepted it."

Costia had been against it from the beginning, long before Luna. But she had never struggled with the knowledge of it, never fallen apart because she could no longer comprehend the brutality of the world they lived in.

Instead, she had squared her shoulders and sought to do something about it.

As always.

Luna would forever admire her for that.

Raven watched her, eyes sad. "That sounds. . . lonely."

The echoes of their previous conversation swayed between them.

"It is." Luna tried for another smile, yet it broke upon birth. "But it feels a little less lonely now."

Because at last she had seen the same horror she felt in her heart reflected in the eyes of another.

And the same anger.

A tentative smile drew at Raven's lips and Luna's own returned at the sight of it, fuller now. It was inexplicable how, with a simple look, a single word, this woman could make her heart grow warm. Could chase away the ice with seemingly no effort at all, nothing but a glancing touch of her hand, or the crook of her lips.

She made breathing easy.

And Luna didn't know why.

A harsh blade of wind whipped across them, freezing the water still clinging to her hair and making the tentative goosebumps along her flesh rise in earnest.

She shivered.

Raven didn't miss it, grimaced. "Look, I'm sorry about nearly drowning you."

Luna's brow furrowed, taking in the awkward shifting of the other woman. "You didn't nearly drown me, Raven."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Uh, kinda did."

"I can swim." That wasn't the problem. "And I should have warned you about how slippery the rocks can be." Luna had fallen victim to them herself enough times when she was younger.

"And what assholes the fish can be," Raven grumbled.

Luna smiled. "Mm." She hesitated, not sure if she should ask the next question. "Is your leg okay?"

A flash of irritation darkened the mechanic's features before she sighed, forcing her shoulders to relax. "It's not great but it'll be fine."

Luna nodded, pleased that she had chosen to be honest. "The walk back isn't going to be easy. It's all uphill." She should have considered that when she'd planned this expedition but she hadn't foreseen their little tumble.

"I'll manage." The hard set to Raven's jaw dared Luna to doubt her.

She didn't.

She thought about apologizing for the extra pain she had caused but she knew the other woman would only resent her for the gesture. "Okay."

Luna returned her attention to the net in her hands, knowing Raven would appreciate an escape from her scrutiny. But she had to look up when she heard an exclamation of disgust, catching the other woman taking a whiff of her hands and staring at them in startled horror. "God, I stink. Fish are gross."

Luna hid a smile. "Mm. I probably should have warned you about that too."

It was unfortunate that the majority of their haul was taken up by one particular species of fish that seemed to have evolved to be slipperier (and thus, slimier) than most. Luna decided it was probably best not to inform Raven that this fish also secreted a toxin through their scales to subdue predators. It was harmless to humans, after all, and she'd had enough talk of poison for one day. No need to stir the pot when it wasn't necessary.

Noting the enduring grimace on Raven's face, she reached into her bag. "Here," Luna said, holding out some crushed leaves for the other woman. Luna had prepared them that morning but had forgotten them in the chaos.

Raven eyed the offering cautiously. "What is it?"

"Something that will help cover the smell until we make it back and you can properly wash."

She took it eagerly.

Luna didn't blame her. She loved the sea and all that came with it. Loved the ancient motions of fishing, how much calmer it was compared to hunting.

But the smell would never be appealing.

Nor would the feel of slime swallowing her fingers.

Thinking on this, Luna reached into her satchel, retrieving some waipa klin which she then passed to a bemused Raven, fishing out another for herself as she began the process of wiping the muck from her hands.

Adria used to chase her around the oil rig, hands up at the ready as she strived to contaminate her fleeing victim with the foul-smelling goo that coated them.

Luna would give anything to go back to one of those moments, to feel the horrible slime sliding across her skin as Adria giggled with her assault.

She would give anything to have that messy peace back.

Luna cleared her throat, watching the grimace on Raven's face as she scraped the leaves over her hands, making a note to keep her far away from the kitchen when it came time to gut the fish.

"I'm sorry today proved to be such a disaster." She hadn't intended for it to be.

Raven frowned. "We caught twenty-seven fish. That's hardly a disaster."

In any other circumstance, Luna would agree with her. But she could still feel the harsh grip of a hand, fisting in her hair, holding her down.

She also wasn't oblivious to the occasional winces that had become far more frequent on Raven's face ever since they had pulled themselves from the river's depths.

Luna had caused them both pain today, her good intentions could not counter that.

She let out a breath, deciding not to speak this into existence. "No, I suppose it's not."

Luna's stomach cramped and, grimacing, she concluded that it was going to be as much of a struggle to digest what they'd caught as it had proved to catch it.

She'd been tortured before in her life. But never by someone she loved.

Someone she trusted with her whole heart.

In many ways, that was worse than the torture itself.

Derrick had not been in control of his actions but it was still his face she saw when she flashed back to those moments, still his hands in her hair, holding her down.

Those hands which had once treated her with such gentleness, at a time when she had been utterly deprived of it.

Luna looked away, breaking the connection. "We should get going. It'll be night soon."

And cold.

Their clothes were still drenched and the night air would not be forgiving to them.

Best not to give it the chance to attack.

But just as the river is always at the door, so is the world always outside. And it is in the world that we have to live."

― Lian Hearn, Across the Nightingale Floor

Murphy blinked as he opened the front door to the mansion, taking in the pitiful appearances of the soaking pair on his doorstep.

He raised a brow. "What the hell happened to you two?"

Raven groaned and pushed past him. "Fucking fish."

He looked to Luna for explanation and she sighed, relinquishing her loaded net into his stunned hands. "It's been an eventful day."

In the next moment, Raven was backtracking, spinning around to place her own net in Murphy's other hand. He sagged under the extra weight.

"You and Emori can do the hunting and gathering from now on," she grunted before stalking off.

Murphy stared after her. "Weren't we already doing that?"

An obscene gesture was his only response.

Smirking, he turned back to Luna. "Someone's cranky."

A groan of rage met his assessment and the Grounder's mouth twitched.

"It's a little past her bedtime," she confided.

"Wasn't aware she had one." The mechanic certainly didn't abide by it if she did.

Luna lifted her shoulders in a half shrug before moving further into the room. Murphy fumbled to close the door behind her without dropping his stinky cargo.

When he turned back around, he spotted where Raven was headed and his eyes narrowed.

"Hey! No wet clothes on my couch, Reyes."

Predictably, she flopped onto the couch, ignoring his command.

Sighing inwardly, Murphy turned back to Luna, taking in her bedraggled appearance. Whilst Raven's clothes were dripping, Luna looked completely drenched.

He raised a brow. "Go for a swim?"

Her lips pulled in vague amusement. "In a manner of speaking."

"You look cold."

"Well, I feel a lot colder."

He nodded his head in the direction of her room. "Go. Have a shower and warm up. I'll take care of these." He jostled the nets to indicate, undeniably eager to set them away somewhere he'd no longer be able to smell their contents.

Couldn't they have gone hunting instead?

Murphy wouldn't have made this offer of respite to just anyone but the nightblood happened to be one of the only people on earth he actually liked and he hadn't forgotten her attempt at comfort the other day. A useless attempt, really, but he was conscious of how few people would have deigned to make the effort at all - at least for him.

It had earned Luna a shower at the very least.

She smiled and briefly placed a hand on his arm before drifting past him.

He heard her exchange a couple of words with Raven on the way out before the mechanic huffed and reluctantly peeled herself off the couch.

Yeah. Luna wasn't too bad.

Once the other woman was out of sight, however, Raven flopped back onto the furniture.

Murphy withheld a sigh.

Still, he could have some fun with this. "Why does Luna look like someone tried to drown her?"

Raven groaned, burying her head in the couch cushions.

He smirked. "You know, if you're trying to get a girl wet, that's not really the way to go about it."

Murphy was far from oblivious to her feelings for the nightblood. Honestly, at this point, he wasn't sure how anyone could be. Though, he was surrounded by an island full of morons so he couldn't find it within himself to be too surprised.

Still, Raven's crush on Luna was so big it seemed primed to outgrow her humongous ego, which he hadn't thought possible until now.

She sputtered. "Fuck you, Murphy!"

It would be a lie to say he wasn't finding this unexpected turn of affairs amusing. He'd never seen Raven so flustered before. Except for the day he'd found her pacing one of the lower levels of Becca's lab, looking every inch in need of a cold shower.

He wondered if Luna was aware of Raven's attraction. It was hard to tell with her. The Grounder was unreadable. You saw what she wanted you to see and not much else.

Which was why he also couldn't determine whether or not that attraction was reciprocated, though Luna's apparent devotion to the disaster-prone mechanic was certainly telling.

The survivalist in Murphy found this ability of Luna's disconcerting, even threatening. The rest of him was just plain impressed, not to mention envious.

He crossed his arms. "Just coming from someone who's had more success with women than you."

Raven raised her head. "Emori isn't women. She's one smart woman who got temporarily blinded by stupidity when she met you. I'm confident that she'll recover all her faculties soon enough and rectify her mistake."

"At least I've never tried to drown her," he grumbled.

Her hand shot up. "You don't know that's what happened!"

Uh-huh. With how worked up she was getting about it, he couldn't imagine anything else being the case. "Then what did happen?"

Raven just glared before sinking her face into the cushions once more. "We were attacked by a fish."

"Mm-hmm."

"It's true."

"I'm sure."

She groaned rather dramatically, before lurching off the couch and storming away.

"Luna's taking a shower right now if you were thinking of finishing the job!" he called after her. He wondered if it was possible to drown someone in a shower. With the way their lives worked, he'd probably find out one day.

"Fuck you, Murphy!"

He smirked, turning away.

Two fuck-you-Murphys in one day, that's a record.

Yeah. Things were improving between the two of them.

He and Raven were almost amicable now.

If it kept up like this, they'd be palling around in no time.

Chapter Text

"Raven? I need your help with something."

"Sure thing, what's - ah, woah!" Raven's eyes widened as soon as she looked up. "Holy hell."

Luna's mouth twitched. "That seems something of an oxymoron."

Raven was too busy staring to register. "What happened to your clothes?" Sure, she was wearing a towel but it really wasn't doing all that much for what remained of Raven's sanity.

Luna's amusement seemed to be growing by the second. "Well, I wasn't going to shower in them."

Right, shower. Towel. That made sense.

A hell of a lot more sense than her brain was making at the moment.

Clothes were not shower compatible.

Or they were, if you were determined enough, but. . .

Her eyes tracked the scoop of Luna's collarbone, following the path lower, lower. . . until she came to the very edge of the towel, unable to look away from the deceptively benign material that rose and fell, straining against the flesh within. This was unbearable enough but then Raven made the mistake of letting her gaze drift even lower, to the bare skin just above Luna's knees and-

She blinked, snapping her attention back up.

Fuck.

Come on, Reyes, what the hell is wrong with you? You 've seen people in way less.

And the towel was a pretty long one (thank god) so, really, there was no excuse for her reaction.

She just. . .

Really needed to get laid.

Clearly.

"You said you needed my help with something?" It was at this point that Raven's wonderful brain took the opportunity to assault her mind with all the ways she could 'help' Luna.

Now would be a really good time for one of those seizures.

The other woman nodded, not seeming nearly as bothered by their current predicament (it was fucking annoying), and glanced back towards the direction she'd come. "The controls, they're. . . confusing."

"Right. Of course." That also made sense. Luna was still going through a sharp learning curve when it came to technology and whilst the control panel in the shower wasn't too different from what they'd had on the Ark, Raven could easily see how foreign it would appear to someone who'd grown up without that kind of technology.

It wasn't like you could just twist a tap and - hallelujah! - nice warm shower of water at your service.

Hell, she'd caught Jackson helping Miller out with it the other day - though, that might have just been an excuse to flirt.

"I can help with that." Unfortunately.

Luna didn't seem as confident of this - probably because Raven had been malfunctioning ever since she'd entered the room - but nodded and turned to leave. "Thankyou."

It took a moment for her to remember that she was sort of expected to follow - she'd wasted too many precious seconds staring at the back of Luna's naked legs as she walked away. Well, not exactly wasted. . .

"Right! Um, coming."

What the fuck is wrong with you?

She'd seen plenty of legs before. A multitude of legs. So many legs she was leg-ed out. So what if she was having a little bit of trouble processing Luna's? That was only because she'd never had the chance to see her without pants that didn't cover the full length of those wonderfu- totally average legs. Not to mention, a part of Raven had half expected to find a pair of fins sticking out of there instead. Or a mermaid tail. Something appropriately fishy - and hopefully smelly - that would put her off this attraction for good.

Yep, that was it.

Absolutely.

Hell, she'd seen Clarke undress a couple of times and had never reacted like this. And you and I both know that you used to have the littlest bit of a crush on her.

Raven grumbled under her breath, not exactly happy to be reminded of that.

At least Luna still had a towel on. The same could not have been said for Clarke and her birthday suit.

And yet she'd been so much less flustered back then.

Which could only mean...

No, wait, stop it. You are not going to fall for a girl just because she beat you at chess!

Loads of girls can do that. You may not have met them yet but, still, loads!

Other than that, what does Luna have to recommend her?

She smells nice.

Wait, no-

Her hair is fucking breathtaking.

Abort-

And her hands are soft.

Abort, fucking abort-

And her voice is-

This was bad.

This was really, really bad.

What if she wasn't just attracted to Luna?

What if she actually had a whole ass crush on her?

Unacceptable.

Un-fucking-acceptable.

You 're dying.

The world is ending.

You don 't have time for a crush of all things.

You. Do. Not. Have. A. Crush.

You 're sexually frustrated and Luna is hot.

There 's a difference.

But, God, Raven hadn't even been this awkward with Finn during the fledgling stage of their romantic relationship, back when she'd first started to suspect that her feelings for him went well beyond platonic. That had been a nerve-wracking revelation but she'd weathered it well. Kept a cool head. Only blushed a few times.

Certainly hadn't walked into a door frame because she was too busy staring at his ass.

"Ow, fuck!" Raven rubbed her smarting brow as Luna turned back to look at her with startled alarm.

This was quite possibly the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to her.

"Are you alright?"

The fact that Luna actually seemed concerned made the flush rising in her cheeks all the more consuming.

Raven wanted to melt into the carpet, or shoot through the ceiling. One of the above. Anything to get her out of this embarrassing clusterfuck of a situation.

Those seizures are such assholes. Always coming at the least opportune time and not giving a fucking peep when I actually need them.

Her brain sucked.

It really, really sucked.

(never used to.

Once, it had been the only thing she could rely on)

Raven swallowed. "Fine. Uh, guess I'm just a bit distracted today."

Luna nodded, as if that made perfect sense. "You've had a lot on your mind." You have no idea. "And today was something of an adventure." If that's what you call crashing into a river and nearly drowning the girl you may or may not have a crush on because your brain decided to take a departure the moment you felt- "Here, let me see."

"Oh no, it's-"

But she was already stepping closer and reaching out with a hand, resting it against Raven's chin to angle her face better into the light. Luna's touch was impossibly gentle but sure, like she'd done this a thousand times.

She probably had.

"It's fine. Really."

"Mm," she hummed, turning Raven's head slightly to better inspect her mark of humiliation. "I think you're right. You must have a very hard head." Her lips were drawing up in faint amusement and Raven rolled her eyes.

"Ha ha. My head is brilliant. And beautiful."

That smile deepened. "Yes, it is."

Mercifully, she released Raven's chin just as her face started to become engulfed in flames. With her luck, Luna would think she had a fever and call Abby or Jackson in here to witness her in her disgrace.

"Yours is pretty okay too," she grumbled, for lack of anything better to say.

But Luna accepted the remark with an indulgent smile before turning away once more. "Thankyou, Raven."

The towel had dropped slightly during the commotion, the planes of her back creeping further into view.

Lord, kill me now.

A few minutes later, they stood outside the shower, Luna running her through what exactly the problem was. "The first attempt spat out this funny smelling air." Yeah, the perfume assault. She'd fallen victim to it too. "The second attempt only shot out water from down there." She pointed to a couple of spots on the floor - Raven had her own suspicions about what those could have been engineered for. Naughty Becca. "I know technology. I lived on an oil rig for years. But this is. . ." Luna shook her head. "I don't understand why there have to be so many buttons just to make water come out of that." She pointed up to the showerhead.

It was a fair question.

"Oh yeah. Human beings - we love to make things complicated." Still better than our love for destroying everything in sight. Raven turned away from the object of frustration to regard the other woman. "Have you used any kind of shower before?"

She didn't want to make any assumptions and she needed to know what she was working with.

Luna nodded. "There was a room on the oil rig that had many."

"Like a communal type thing?"

Another nod. "It wasn't anything as elaborate as this," she gestured at the shower, "but it took the water from the sea and filtered it."

Raven couldn't help but be impressed. "Desalination. Cool. Can't believe it was still working after all these years."

"It wasn't. But we fiddled around and eventually got it operational again." Luna grew silent.

The look on her face was one Raven had grown far too familiar with in the time she'd known her. It was a look of both longing and grief, and Luna only succumbed to it when she was talking about her clan or former home. She suspected it was probably a good idea not to push the subject any further. She didn't enjoy bearing witness to the other woman's pain and she doubted it was much fun on Luna's end either.

In her experience, the best defense against pain was pretending like hell it didn't exist. Unhealthy, maybe, but it had gotten her this far.

Raven cleared her throat. "Well, there's a lot going on in this particular shower," she said, turning back to face the source of her troubles tonight, "but once you know how it works, it's pretty simple."

"I'll take your word for it." Luna seemed amused but far from convinced and Raven shrugged, spending the next five minutes taking her through each step - and yelping every time a jet of water decided to assault her head (Luna smiled a little too obscenely in those instances, apparently delighting in her misfortune - and if Raven sometimes pressed a few buttons accidentally on purpose just to get that smile to come out a little more, she would never admit to it).

"Thankyou for this," she murmured once Raven had finally succeeded in her struggle against the impertinent faucet.

Drawing back from the shower, the mechanic rubbed her hands together awkwardly, running through the best ways to beat a hasty retreat - though a part of her didn't want to leave.

Raven still didn't know why she was this flustered. Even if what she felt for Luna qualified as a crush - which it very emphatically did not - she'd experienced plenty of crushes before. None of them had left her a bumbling idiot, near incapable of performing coherent speech. On the contrary, she could be downright suave and flirtatious when the moment called for it.

But Raven wasn't delusional enough to believe she would ever achieve the same around Luna.

What the fuck are you doing to me?

"Yeah, don't mention it," she said, looking away. She didn't want to risk Luna reading the conflict on her face, or worse, detecting the cause of it. A thought occurred to Raven, interrupting her agitation. "Wait, how have you been washing all this time then?"

Luna shrugged. "The showers at the lab are far simpler and I've spent more time there." It didn't escape Raven's notice that the reason she had been spending so much time at the lab lately was because of her. "This is the first time I've attempted one of these."

Made sense. Raven had been using the showers at the lab, too. More convenient. But on her first night here in the mansion she hadn't been able to resist the temptation posed by the haven of wet heat in her own bedroom - and she couldn't deny that it had been a holy experience.

Raven's eyes flickered towards the large tub also contained in the bathroom, wondering why Luna hadn't just used that upon growing frustrated with the shower's overly complicated control system.

But maybe she was just a shower girl. Raven could get that.

Okay granted she'd never actually had a bath in her life - showers all the way on the Ark - but they seemed tedious as hell. Also boring as fuck. Way too long. Like what were you even supposed to do in them? Just sit around twiddling your thumbs? Like she had that kind of time - or patience. She was more of a hop-in, hop-out kind of girl.

Plus, the thought of seeing all the grime that would eventually accumulate, floating in the water around her, made Raven's stomach turn. Bathing in your own filth would never be appealing to her. Not in a thousand years.

Nah, showers were superior.

And Luna was superior for apparently sharing this understanding.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to it." Raven clapped her hands together, all but darting out of the room as fast as her leg would allow.

Luna didn't stop her. Thank god.

She was going to need a cold shower after this.

A fucking freezing one.

Chapter Text

"You're still here." Luna blinked in surprise as she opened the bathroom door into the bedroom, revealing one very awkward looking mechanic perched on the tip of her bed.

Her stomach flipped and she hushed it.

Raven looked up, the discomfort plain on her face. "Uh, yeah. I just thought, in case anything went wrong and you still needed help, this would save you making a naked dash from your room over to mine. Murphy does not deserve to see that."

Luna chuckled a little, ducking her head. "Well, thankyou. That was very considerate."

Though, a part of her suspected it wasn't the real reason Raven had elected to stay behind. She'd been odd during their encounter earlier, maybe because of what had happened down at the river. She knew the tumble had shaken her, perhaps almost as much as it had shaken Luna. Unsurprising when the Sky Girl had showed such nervousness around the ocean's edge the first time they had ventured out together. If Raven couldn't swim, then finding herself submerged in foreign waters must have been alarming.

Perhaps she needed the reassurance of company.

Or perhaps Luna did and she was merely projecting.

She hadn't been lying about her befuddlement with the shower controls and had needed the help - though she was confident she could have figured it out eventually (Luna had always been resourceful). But her stomach had also been rocking back and forth since the river, rising and falling and threatening to expel its contents. When she'd approached the shower at first, the bile inside her had risen so high, she'd fled the room.

Seeking out Raven had been an excuse. A way to pull herself from that sickly sensation, the turbulent memories that had made themselves known with nauseating clarity - and breathe.

Raven helped her breathe.

Perhaps that was why Luna was so pleased by the sight of her now. Still here, still close. . .

She won 't be for long.

Luna withdrew from the reminder, even though she knew she shouldn't.

Ignoring the sharp brevity of Raven's lifespan wasn't likely to do her any favors. But she still couldn't make herself bear witness to it.

Not yet.

Luna went to massage the unsteady material around her hands, only to find empty skin. Right. Her gloves had been abandoned with the rest of her sodden clothes.

For a moment, she considered reaching out and taking Raven's hand instead, running her fingers over the band that encircled her wrist, soothing herself to the sensation of the other woman's warmth, tangled in with the rise and fall of aging threads.

But she couldn't.

She'd noticed Raven getting increasingly uncomfortable with her touch. Had made an effort to ease off as a result. Control herself.

Had failed more times than she could count.

(shamefully, Luna could admit that there were times when she'd allowed herself to fail)

Mostly, she'd taken to contenting herself with the briefest of touches. Those seemed to provoke the least amount of reaction.

No hugs.

(which anyone who'd known her would attest was quite a feat)

She'd always been contact seeking. Ever since she was a child. Had always used it to soothe her, even before she understood that was the intention.

But Raven wasn't like Derrick or Adria. She certainly wasn't Sol or Costia, who had reached out for connection just as ceaselessly as she'd sought it. There'd never been any barriers between them, no boundaries enveloping their skin that needed to be minded. But Raven was different. Luna couldn't just touch her whenever the urge arose, not when she knew how uncomfortable it sometimes made her. Raven was more like Lexa - if only in this - and, like with her childhood in the very beginning, Luna had to be cautious with her caresses, lest she risk overwhelming her completely.

It was unfortunate because she liked touching Raven. She liked it a lot.

(too much)

But this wouldn't be the first time Luna had denied herself the things she liked. That brought her pleasure. Happiness. She had more than enough practice to manage.

Luna clenched her hand and held it still.

She could have told Raven the real reason for seeking her out earlier. Anyone else and Luna would have stated her needs plainly, but she didn't think the other woman was ready for that. Had an inkling she might just run in the opposite direction, if she thought Luna might need her for anything other than her brain. If all she needed was Raven herself, nothing more and nothing less. Raven: not doing anything but being there.

Luna had just wanted to hear her voice.

The way she couldn't hear the voices of anyone else who still mattered to her.

Kara.

Raven was becoming more and more of one every day.

Dangerous. Unwise. Undoubtedly so.

But Luna couldn't resist leaning into the weight of her as she pulled her down.

In a way, she needed that.

Thought she might let the water to take her otherwise, flow with it, allow it to drag her anywhere it wanted to go. In the past, that wouldn't have been a problem. She would have happily fallen into the motion, trusting herself enough to be carried.

But now. . .

Now Luna didn't know where the waters of her life were taking her. More to the point, she didn't know who she'd be at the end of it all, when she finally came up for air.

Luna couldn't trust herself now.

Not with the way her thoughts and feelings had been.

Not when she could feel that rage clawing inside of her, carving out piece after piece of her heart.

She thought she'd grown accustomed to her anger. That it could no longer upend her.

She was wrong.

So she needed an anchor.

Just for now.

Just until she could trust herself to be carried.

Just until she could breathe on her own again - and she did not think her gloves up to the task.

But Raven seemed to be.

She also appeared to be vibrating, ever so slightly. Weighed down by waterlogged clothes, clinging to her skin in a way that could only be uncomfortable. Not to mention cold. Unlike Luna, she hadn't seized the chance to wash up.

Frowning, she opened the door wider. "Come in here."

Raven blinked. "What?"

"You're freezing." There was a little too much scolding in that and she could remember countless times herding Adria into a warm bath, the child's skin icy after hours of swimming - she never listened to her warnings about the frigid temperature in the winter, seemed almost oblivious to the cold; a supernatural trait inherent to most children. "It's warmer in here. Come inside."

The steam of her recent shower filled the room and she'd discovered that there was some kind of heating contraption that turned on whenever she flicked the light switch. It would be a step up from her bedroom, at any rate.

Though from the look on Raven's face, she might have just asked her to march into Azgeda itself undefended. Still, the mechanic rose to her feet, reluctantly edging towards Luna - perhaps she hadn't been entirely successful in washing off the smell of fish?

She resisted the urge to take a sniff of her hands, which appeared pristine in the bathroom's harsh light.

Just to check.

"If you're sure. . ."

"Of course." Her brow furrowed at Raven's continued reticence and once she was close enough Luna took her hand, gently pulling her inside.

She released her once the task was accomplished, still mindful of her boundaries when it came to touch. Raven crossed her arms as Luna turned away, stepping briefly outside the door to swipe the pile of clothes she'd left on the bench, and returning to the bathroom. Luna's mouth twisted a little in distaste as she set the haul on the counter. She'd retrieved them from one of the drawers in the bedroom and, apart from the fact that they smelled like they were a hundred years old, they were white and shapeless - nothing like what she was used to wearing. But her own clothes were still drying by the fire and were of no help to her now. These odd ones would have to do until tomorrow.

Luna laid a hand on them, noting that they were soft and likely comfortable at least. Her nerves couldn't stand abrasive material and with the way her senses seemed to be lighting up like a ceremonial pyre whenever they pleased lately, she didn't like the thought of putting anything against her flesh that had the potential to feel like blades.

Unwrapping the towel from her body, Luna allowed it to fall - halting at a yelp behind her.

Brow furrowing, she craned her head to see that Raven had spun around, hand thrust over her eyes. She could just make out the sound of more than a few muffled swears - some of which had been absent from Luna's lessons on Gonasleng.

(tilting her head, she mentally added them to her vocabulary)

After a moment, the swearing died down but Raven's back remained firmly turned, her spine rigid.

Skaikru were such odd creatures.

Modesty was something Luna had discarded long ago. As a child, she and the other novitiates had often changed in front of one another or shared baths. It had been slightly different for her as an adult. Not because of her age but because of the people she now found herself in the company of. A nightblood's body was sacred and only a select few could be granted the privilege of viewing it in its wholeness: healers; devoted servants; kampa; other nightbloods; and, of course, the Fleimkepas.

But Luna had left behind such rules when she'd left behind her sacred duty.

(a daunting yet freeing revelation at the time)

She'd learnt, living among Floukru, that such modesty was out of place. Nudity was but a part of life and nothing to be ashamed of or hidden. Over time, Luna had adjusted to this way of thinking, so much so that she'd forgotten there were other ways to be.

But, clearly, Skaikru had a different view of things.

"It's nothing you don't have yourself," Luna commented, light amusement coloring her tone as she pulled the silky top on.

Raven let out a strangled noise.

She was hastier with the pants, deciding to take mercy on the poor woman after the day they'd had, and exhaled, unwrapping the towel from her hair. It fell in delight, free at last from its restraints.

A grumble reached her ears, "Can I turn back around now?"

"You didn't have to turn around at all, but yes."

When Raven shifted reluctantly back to face her it was just in time for Luna to catch the end of an eye roll - she bit back a smile.

She knew that the other woman got a certain thrill out of irritating her and Luna couldn't say that she took no pleasure in returning the favor.

Raven narrowed her eyes, not missing this tell of amusement. "Well excuse me if my people don't usually flash each other on the regular. Unless you're Octavia - but she's a breed of her own."

Luna ducked her head, cheeks hurting with the effort it took not to grant her smile free reign. "Then I apologize. For the assault on your sensibilities."

Another eye roll and then Raven was approaching her, leaning back against the counter so she could crowd closer to the heat emanating from a device there. "God, you're annoying."

Luna wasn't sure how but she hummed as if in agreement, thinking she should probably let her have this one victory. "Are you still cold?"

She ran a hand over Raven's arm to check for herself and the mechanic froze. Cursing herself for the misstep, she pulled back, satisfied at least that some of the goosebumps had disappeared from Raven's skin. Though Luna noticed after her retreat a few more rising to attention. She resisted the urge to return, to cover those arms and drive the goosebumps from existence. To chase away the cold.

Raven bit her lip like she was struggling with something. Something far more than the cold. If only Luna knew what. Perhaps then she could help.

She was good at reading people. Always had been. But there were aspects of this woman that remained inscrutable to her. Luna didn't know if she found the challenge refreshing or disquieting.

For the most part, it grated at her. The realization that, in times like these, she was powerless to help. To understand.

Luna wasn't used to that powerlessness. To not knowing the right thing to do, to say.

She always knew what to say.

Her training had made sure of it.

Raven shook her head in answer to her earlier question. "No. I heat up quick."

"Good."

The thought that the other woman could be enduring any amount of suffering because of her was distressing to say the least. She never wanted to cause Raven pain. Never wanted to hurt her.

(she would of course.

Luna always ended up hurting the people she cared about. The people she loved - though she hoped Raven wasn't quite among those ranks yet.

She hurt them. Or she failed them.

There seemed to be little alternative)

Luna swallowed, fingers skating to her wrists again, searching for what wasn't there. She thought to touch her necklace but that had been discarded too. She hadn't worn it in days, the weight of the shell growing too heavy, the past clinging to it like a searing thorn, but she hungered for it now. The necklace had been her anchor long before her gloves, though most days now it hurt too much for it to be of any use in that regard.

Still, Luna itched to touch the pendant. To check that it was still whole, when nothing else was.

She would retrieve it once she left the room.

Maybe that would quiet her mind.

(or simply sharpen the screams)

In the past, Luna would have welcomed such thoughts inside. Opened the door to their persistent force and sat with them for as long as necessary, until such time as she could find a way to challenge their existence. Those that couldn't be defeated had to be accepted. Allowed to flow freely through her until her feelings around them reached a calm. A peace.

Then they would slip away. Back into the night.

The dark.

She didn't have the strength to sit with those thoughts now. Knew they would only consume her if she did. Devour her.

Luna had been devoured before. Swallowed whole and submerged in the darkness.

(she didn't care to repeat the experience)

She felt no calm now. No peace.

Instead, she felt like she was teetering on an edge: black hole expanding beneath her feet, sucking her in.

She could let herself fall. So easily. Too easily.

(the fall was always easy)

It would be quick.

Barely a breath.

But the climb out would be the hardest of her life. Perhaps even insurmountable.

(if she even found the will to try)

Luna could let go. Relax her grip and let her fingers slip.

But she didn't want to hit the bottom. Wasn't prepared to.

Not yet.

Because when she did. . . when she did and the climb proved impossible. . .

Luna knew what option would be left to her then. If she didn't want to stay in the darkness. Couldn't bear to stay.

(the single option that always remained, never leaving)

The option that couldn't be an option.

She lived only because Nyko was dead. Because her brother was dead.

So she couldn't let go.

Absent anything else, Luna pressed her toes into the hard tiles, the chill of them against her heated skin snapping her back from the black hole created by those thoughts.

But they still lingered in the background. They always did.

And she knew they would find their way to her once again.

Luna was good at running. Always had been. Even before her Conclave. But there were some things even she couldn't outrun. No matter how hard she tried.

And this was one of them.

"Life, an ocean, keeps pulling your anchor down

Deep in darkness and you can't hear a sound. . ."

- Hold on to Me by Valerie Broussard

Chapter Text

Raven's cheeks still burned furiously from the brief glimpse she'd gotten of Luna's naked backside in the instant before she'd spun around. She could only pray to God the other woman didn't notice.

Knew the chances of this were minute.

It was just so damn frustrating!

She'd seen plenty of people naked. Well, maybe not plenty but still. Enough. And it had never bothered her.

Not that a naked Luna bothered her. . .

Raven closed her eyes. Fuck.

This was ridiculous.

It was a good thing she'd decided not to try and bring sex into their relationship. At this point, Raven would probably end up passing out before they'd even gotten properly started. Or she'd freeze and wind up just staring at Luna the whole time, gaping like a fish.

How embarrassing.

Raven liked to think she was good at sex. She'd certainly never received any complaints. And she'd prefer to die knowing her reputation was intact, rather than decimated beyond recognition because she'd fainted at the sight of another woman's tits.

So. No Luna.

Well, not no Luna, but no naked Luna. Naked Luna bad.

Wouldn 't exactly call her bad. . .

Don 't you start!

Oh God, she was losing it. This was worse than hallucinating spacewalks. Which would actually come as a saving grace right about now.

Come on, seizures, hit me up!

. . . nothing.

So rude.

You'd think after making her life a living hell they could at least get her out of a hot mess.

Forcing those thoughts - and her humiliation - aside, Raven focused her attention once more on the woman in front of her, who thankfully hadn't seemed to notice her mortifying levels of unchecked horniness.

She watched as Luna smiled somewhat ruefully. It was a contrast to the lightness she'd seen on her face only seconds earlier. Sometimes, it seemed as though her moods changed as quickly as Raven's own.

It made for confusing conversation.

Like now.

What were we talking about again?

Something about being cold. Which was most definitely not a problem for her right now. In fact, they might end up having to get Abby in here - because Raven was becoming dangerously close to collapsing from heatstroke.

(which, whilst embarrassing, would have the benefit of getting her out of this situation if her fucking seizures couldn't deign to oblige)

"I'm sorry that today was less than enjoyable. It wasn't what I had planned," Luna murmured.

Was that what she was worried about?

Raven snorted. "Even you can't control stupid fish. I actually had an okay time - you know, before the near drowning."

Certainly the most interesting date she'd ever been on.

Not that it was a date.

Nope, no siree.

Just a platonic outing between two women and their fish nemesis.

She really needed to get laid.

Maybe Clarke would. . .

Nope. Best not to go there. Too much history. And so much of it bloody.

Luna rolled her eyes and Raven's heart skipped a beat (because apparently she could make even eye-rolling look attractive, go figure). "Neither of us nearly drowned. That water was barely up to our knees. Sky People are dramatic."

"Sky people? Have you seen Grounders?"

Her eyes danced. "You say that only because of your encounters with Lexa. She had a penchant for theatrics."

Not just Lexa. Practically every Grounder she'd ever come across. Raven was pretty sure it was written into their DNA. "Uh-huh."

Still, today was. . .

Seeing Luna in that river, how lost to Raven and the world she'd been, the violent trembling that had met her touch. . . that wasn't theatrical.

It was terrifying.

She'd only seen Luna scared once before. That moment when she and Abby had woken her up and, for a split instant, she'd recognized them as enemies rather than friends.

Or Raven supposed 'allies' would be a more appropriate term. Especially at that point in time.

She hoped they'd evolved beyond that now, though. That they were at least circling the boundaries of friendship.

(decided not to ruminate too long on why she hoped for that)

Raven hesitated, not sure if she should push that line of questioning. Ah, to hell with it. "The other day, when we woke you up, you looked scared."

"I was."

Raven blinked, forever startled by Luna's simple honesty when it came to her emotions, how easily it seemed to flow from her.

The other woman's determination to wear her heart on her sleeve was a complete antithesis to Raven's own way of operating.

To be honest, it kind of terrified her.

A part of her wanted to scream at Luna, 'What the hell are you doing?' and hide that heart away so no-one could ever hurt it.

But that wasn't Raven's choice to make.

If making herself vulnerable or whatever was what brought Luna peace then who the hell was she to question that?

Still, the woman could stand to be at least a little more careful. As in, not presenting that heart on a silver platter to people like Murphy - you know, the ones that were likely to shoot you in the back when you least expected it. But if that was a concern of Luna's, it didn't show.

Or, well, that wasn't exactly true. She knew Luna kept at least some things to herself - had been made uneasy by it in the past. Just not as many things as Raven would prefer.

She was in a conflicting position of wanting to know everything there was to know about her - and equally wanting to protect Luna from ever being fully known.

From being hurt.

Because that's what happened when people knew you. Really knew you.

They had all the tools necessary to carve out your heart and smash it to smithereens. A full understanding of what made you weak, and what could break you.

Hell, they didn't even have to try and break you. Finn's betrayal had hurt so much more not because he'd used those tools against her - he hadn't - but because he was the only person she'd trusted enough to hand them over to in the first place. She'd trusted him with the most fragile parts of her.

And it hadn't meant a damn thing.

It wasn't a kind of power Raven ever wanted to give to someone else. Not again. Nor was it one she was comfortable with anyone holding over Luna.

She'd been hurt enough.

And Raven. . . Raven couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't end up being just another person to add to that hurt.

Another Finn.

So, yeah, a part of her hoped that Luna would stop hurling at her the tools that could so easily be used to break her apart.

She didn't deserve that trust.

(wanted it anyway)

Raven swallowed, returning her thoughts to the path of their conversation. That shitshow of a wakeup call.

What had made Luna so afraid of them in that moment? They weren't that scary. "Why?"

Luna shrugged, adjusting her new shirt - which looked terribly out of place on the Grounder. There wasn't anything wrong with the clothes per se, they just weren't, well, Luna. "When I was a child, sometimes the Fleimkepas would attack us in our sleep."

Raven stared. "You're kidding."

Another shrug. "It was meant to make us more alert, ready to defend ourselves at a moment's notice but. . . it doesn't make for peaceful nights."

Raven swallowed, remembering the unconstrained terror on her face when she'd snapped awake.

Shit. "Sorry."

She shook her head. "You didn't know." Luna smiled at her, though the action was somewhat muted. "It makes sense, I suppose. Assassins have sprung upon Commanders in the middle of the night before, when they're at their most vulnerable. We have to be prepared for that. We can't ever be caught unawares."

Raven doubted that had brought much comfort to her at the time, or even now. She wondered how many things Luna had been shackled with as a consequence of her training as a child, how many scars she bore that were unseen. Things that were meant to aid her but had instead become little more than a burden, a weight to drag her down.

Raven had learnt more than a few things growing up herself. Things she'd needed to get by, to survive. To protect herself.

And she knew more than a few of them had held her back in life. Continued to hold her back.

But fuck if she knew how to discard them. Or if she even wanted to.

Luna sighed, turning away. "I wonder if Lexa continued the practice. It obviously didn't serve the novitiates that Ontari killed very well." She glanced back, spying Raven's questioning look, "Nyko told me she killed them in their sleep, their training should have prevented that. But perhaps she was just skilled enough to remain completely undetected throughout the slaughter. Enough so that even their training couldn't wake them in time."

"Maybe," Raven agreed noncommittally. Personally, she didn't think a bunch of kids could stand a chance against someone so clearly older and stronger than them, no matter what training or precautions had been taken.

It was unlikely Ontari had needed to employ much skill at all. Especially not if she'd taken them on one by one.

Whether she'd been able to avoid waking them or not, whether they were able to respond to the attack on instinct or had been paralyzed by the residues of sleep, they would still have been defenseless.

They were just kids.

Same as Luna had been.

Once upon a time.

Not helpless, exactly - Raven was doubtful Luna had ever been helpless a day in her life - but still. . . vulnerable.

Certainly no match for the likes of Ontari.

"They were only kids."

Luna's face was hard. "They were nightbloods. They didn't have the option of being anything other than that."

Raven winced internally at the coldness of that remark.

The harshness was unusual, coming from her. Dispassion - it wasn't an emotion she'd ever associated with Luna.

Raven suspected that she probably overestimated their abilities.

And her own.

That she was unable to see her childhood and anything to do with it through unshaded eyes.

But Raven didn't have that problem.

All she saw were kids.

And a woman who'd stopped being one far too soon. Just like Raven.

(Titus and my mum are probably exchanging parenting tips in the afterlife as we speak. . .)

Raven frowned, decided not to push the subject. Doubted it would reap any positive results. And there was something else that she'd rather direct her energy and attention towards.

The little midnight surprises dished out by the Flame Keepers certainly explained Luna's reaction the night they'd woken her without warning. She'd thought she was being attacked. Understandably. But why the hell had she possessed that same look when Raven pulled her out of the water? She wasn't attacking Luna at the time. No-one was. Nor had she been asleep in the seconds before.

Something had happened in the river. Raven just didn't know what. Likely she'd been right in her guess that an object - or naughty fish - had caught Luna's hair, held her down.

That would scare anyone.

Still, the explanation didn't sit quite right with her, and Raven didn't know why. It seemed plausible enough.

Maybe she was just too used to everything having a catch, a hidden backside that would swing up and hit her in the face if she wasn't careful. But sometimes things were exactly as they appeared.

Sometimes people got stuck underwater and nearly drowned.

And sometimes the overly compassionate woman you 've been thrown into saving the world with really is just as genuine as she appears.

Right.

No-one was a hundred percent genuine. No-one.

Raven hesitated. "Are you sure you're okay? That little dip in the river wasn't exactly fun."

"No, it wasn't." Despite her words, Luna's mouth quirked slightly. "And while it's not something I'd care to repeat anytime soon, there was no harm done in the end. Though I can say it's a relief to finally be warm again. That river was freezing."

Fuck yeah, it was.

Still, the response somehow failed to satisfy. Raven hesitated. "You know, you were under that water for quite a bit. Must have been scary. I'd understand if you weren't okay."

She prepared herself for more denials, perhaps even an acidic retort - as Raven would have given, if the statement had been directed at her. None came.

Instead, the words seemed to almost amuse Luna.

"Raven, I haven't been okay for weeks." Her lips lifted in a humorless smile. "This is just. . . more of the same."

"Right." Well that should have been fucking obvious. Raven felt guilty for pushing. She hated when people pushed her.

Though she was struggling to understand how getting trapped underwater could qualify as 'more of the same'. Had Luna been falling into rivers with any other people lately? Cos if someone else had committed the major faux pas of nearly drowning her then Raven would really like to meet them. You know, to share in the humiliation of it all.

A hand touched hers for the briefest of moments, almost too quick to feel, and Luna's smile turned more genuine. "I appreciate the concern. Really. And I was feeling a little shaken, but right now I'm alright." She paused, her lips drawing further up. "You help."

She did? "How?"

Luna shrugged. "You have a relaxing presence."

"Said no one about me ever."

That smile again. "Relaxing to me."

Okay, now she knew Luna wasn't okay. There was a screw or two loose somewhere in there. Maybe three.

Raven narrowed her eyes. "You're a little weird, you know that?"

Luna's nose crinkled as her smile grew a moment. "It's been said."

"Oh yeah, by who?" She would not punch them, she would not punch them. . .

Unless it was Murphy. Then she'd be grateful for the excuse.

Luna's eyes creased. "By someone, I'm afraid, even cuter than you."

Raven's heart gave a little skip. Is she implying that I'm cute?

Wait, no. Don 't get ahead of yourself.

It 's Luna. She probably means fluffy-and-adorable cute. Not-come-over-here-and-let-me-rip-your-clothes-off cute.

Not that it mattered either way.

Not that she cared.

Raven cleared her throat. "Alright, who's my competition?"

I will not punch them, I will not punch them. . .

Luna's smile turned somewhat wistful. "Adria."

I. . . most definitely will not be punching them.

"Oh." Her heart deflated. Right. Of course.

Definitely fluffy and adorable.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Clearly, she needed help. A lot of it.

Okay, moving on. Moving on fast.

Distract, distract, distract.

Raven scrambled to turn the discussion around from her rising embarrassment, reaching blindly for an alternative topic.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Luna blinked. "I mean, I know you're not okay in the general sense. And I get that. But you said that right now you're alright. And I'm wondering if you were just bullshitting me."

The way I 'm bullshitting myself out of this conversation.

"I wasn't 'bullshitting' you, Raven."

The answer was gentle but firm. Highly believable. Not even a trace of hesitancy.

Raven wasn't convinced. She didn't think Luna was lying, per se, but she also got the sense that she was withholding more than a little truth.

Not that it was any of her business.

After all, wasn't she just complaining about Luna wearing her heart on her sleeve? If she wanted to tuck it away now, who was Raven to halt her efforts?

She was about to drop it - really she was - but Luna seemed to read the lack of belief on her face.

"I know you think something happened in the river. And you're right. But it's not something I'm ready to talk about yet."

Somehow, having her suspicions confirmed didn't bring her any relief. Raven desperately wanted to ask more, to probe into the depth of it all, if only so she'd know how to help.

But she wouldn't.

She knew too well what it was like to be pushed past the point of comfort, forced over the edge and somehow expected to land on your own two feet. People always pushed, regardless of the consequences.

Raven refused to do that to Luna.

"But you're alright?" She couldn't ask about the river but she could make certain of this.

Luna smiled, the action weak, weighted with exhaustion. But still true. "I'm alright."

Chewing her lip, Raven shifted somewhat awkwardly to her other foot, forgetting the pain this action would cause. Wincing, she shifted back. "It's just. . . you really scared me."

Where the fuck did that come from?

Maybe all that river water had made her drunk. Or killed off what was left of her poor brain cells.

Raven couldn't remember the last time she'd tried this hard to talk about feelings - her own or otherwise.

It itched.

"I know." Luna dropped her gaze. "If I die, the chances of making nightblood are almost nonexistent."

Wait a damn second.

Raven frowned. "That's not what scared me."

Luna blinked, looking up. "Oh?"

She opened her mouth, hesitated.

There was a knock on the door and they flinched, though she noticed that Luna's was noticeably more pronounced.

'A little shaken' my ass. She was at earthquake levels of shake.

Woman looked about ready to jump through the goddamn roof.

Murphy poked his head in, hand over his eyes. "Before you yell at me, I'm not looking - I don't need to see whatever kinky shit you two are up to in here."

Raven rolled her eyes, unsure whether to be annoyed by the interruption or relieved. "For God's sake, Murphy. You're such a guy."

He ignored her, somewhat predictably. "Just wanted to ask if we're planning on having any of that fish tonight? Because if we are, I'm going to need Luna's help - I don't know the first thing about cooking these slippery little shits. Or how to do it without stinking up the entire house."

Luna looked down, cheeks pulling into a smile. "I'll be right out, John."

Raven groaned, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "Throw them in the fridge and let the woman rest. We can have them tomorrow."

But Luna shook her head. "No, they'll taste best fresh." She looked to John. "Leave out nine for dinner tonight and put the rest in the freezer for later."

"Aye Aye, captain." He saluted somewhat sarcastically - but did not leave them in peace.

Raven turned from Murphy, deciding that if she couldn't see him then he didn't exist, and sighed. "But it's so nice and warm in here."

She was not ashamed to admit that it came out as a whine.

Luna smiled at the near pout she knew must be marring her face now - Raven was too cold and tired to care. "You don't have to leave. But I should get going." She reached out to squeeze her wrist briefly. So briefly Raven didn't even have time to flinch. "Stay. Have a shower yourself." Luna's nose wrinkled. "You still smell like fish."

She squawked. "Why are you being mean to me when Murphy is right there?"

Luna just shook her head on a chuckle, exiting the bathroom.

(and Raven's heart did not fall at the sight of her leaving)

Murphy, however - ever the bane of her existence - lingered behind. "So she can hunt, cook and save the world? Next thing you'll tell me is she does the dishes. Gotta say, if you don't marry her, Emori and I will."

Oh for fuck's s-

Raven slammed the door in his face.

Such a guy.

She sighed, glancing around the empty room. It was then that Luna's offer fully caught up to her - and what it would entail. Showering. Naked. In the shower Luna had just showered in. Also naked.

Yeah no. Better just use her own bathroom.

This day had already been troubling enough without having to contend with that.

Hopefully, in the future, Luna would find it within herself to remain fully clothed in her presence.

(Raven steadfastly ignored the fact that a part of her was disappointed by the prospect of this)

Chapter Text

"Ha yu."

"Ha you," Murphy repeated.

Simple enough. And here I was thinking this Trigedasleng shit would be hard.

But then again I am brilliant.

"That's 'how are you?'" Luna informed him, lifting one of the fish fillets off the board.

Murphy wrinkled his nose. He didn't know how it was possible but the smell seemed to have risen to even greater heights of vomit-inducing. He was never letting Raven and Luna pick what they were having for dinner again. The two of them were going to have to find something else to do on their little dates.

When Luna had enlisted his help in 'scaling', 'gutting' and 'de-boning' the little fuckers, he'd nearly thrown his knife at her.

"Yu laik meizen."

"Yoo like masen."

"Meizen."

"Mazen."

"Very good."

He shifted under the praise, sneering slightly. "You better not be getting me to say I smell like ass."

Or fish - which he now realized would be an even worse insult.

"I'd never do that." The way Luna's eyes danced, though, left him somewhat in doubt. "It means 'you're beautiful'. When you say it to someone, you're not just referring to their appearance but everything they are. It's one of the highest compliments you can give a person."

The look Luna sent him held a lot of meaning and absolutely no subtlety. Murphy didn't have to guess why she was teaching him this particular phrase.

He wasn't the only one who liked to tinker around in people's relationships, apparently. Though her reasons were probably far more altruistic than his.

"What's the highest?"

Might as well go for home base.

"For my people? Being called strong." Luna shrugged. "But beauty requires its own kind of strength. It's hard to be beautiful in a world like this, or to hold onto what beauty you have. Not everyone who's strong is beautiful. But everyone who is beautiful is strong, in their own way."

Murphy withheld a sigh. It seemed it was impossible for this woman not to come out with the deep and meaningful answers. Leaving it at 'strong' would have been more than enough. He wasn't looking for a philosophy lesson.

"Alright, this one?" Murphy waved a carrot in the air, lest she delve even further into the complexities of beauty.

(he did decide to file 'yoo like mazen' away to give to Raven at a later date, though. Since apparently it was what got Luna hot.

Emori, on the other hand, would probably laugh in his face if he used that line on her)

"Bonifu." Luna turned on the tap and began rinsing one fillet under the water. Not for the first time, he was glad she'd volunteered to take over fish duties whilst he worked on the vegetables.

There was slime on her arm.

"Boneefoo."

She nodded, eyes focused on her work. "Yu gaf fis fyucha op?"

Well, that was a mouthful.

"Yoo gaf eesfy oochar awp."

"Yu gaf fis fyucha op?"

"Yoo gaf fees fuoocha op?"

"Good."

"And that means?"

Please let it be take off your shirt. . .

Luna only smiled to herself, patting the fish dry. "You'll see."

Murphy shrugged, moving on. Despite his earlier remark, he trusted her not to lead him astray.

It was Luna after all.

He held up the knife in his hand, the one he'd considered throwing at her earlier. "This?"

"Swiss." Luna tapped the piece of fish on the table. "This?"

Easy. It was the second word she'd taught him. After laneek. Lanic? Whatever, the sea.

(no surprise there)

"Swima."

She smiled. "Very good. Emori will be impressed."

Murphy snorted, returning to his chopping. "You don't know Emori. It takes a lot to impress her."

"Then you must be a lot."

With anyone else, he would have thought they were being snide. He might have preferred it that way. But the warmth in Luna's eyes was genuine and he kind of hated it.

No wonder Raven always looked so frazzled after spending any time with her. Girl had a suitcase of self-esteem issues to rival his own. Luna probably opened that suitcase and hugged every article of clothing on a daily basis.

Murphy shuddered at the thought.

He was brought out of that nightmarish imagining by an irritating little hum in his ear.

Great. He had not signed on for a backing track to their little cooking session.

Murphy pursed his lips, endeavoring to ignore it, but the sound grated at his nerves - which always seemed extra raw these days. "You're humming."

Very loudly.

Luna paused, hand hovering over the tap. There was a momentary look of confusion on her face, as if she hadn't realized the fact herself, but then she shrugged, switching the tap back on. "Habit. All the duties were shared in Floukru so there'd often be a lot of us cooking together at one time. We'd sing as we worked." She ran the second fish under the water. "It helped pass the time. If it bothers you, though, I'll stop."

Well, now he felt like an ass.

He hated feeling like an ass.

(even if it was his natural state)

"It's fine." Scowling, Murphy took a stab at his carrot. "We did the same thing up on the Ark." In the Sky Box, anyway. Murphy had never really joined in, but he'd certainly heard the caterwauls. Unfortunately.

Luna looked at him in interest. "Care to share?"

Fuck no.

"Not sure you'd take to them. Lot of swearing."

She raised an eyebrow, amusement coloring her gaze. "Do I look like I offend easily?"

"Well, if we're being honest. . ."

Her cheeks rose. "Words are just words - and I love all of them."

"That may be true but I've still never heard you swear."

Much to his disappointment. Murphy had a feeling it would be hilarious. Like watching a cat bark.

"I'll admit, there are some I use less than others. . ."

"Mm-hmm. I get it, they're not 'beautiful' enough for you. "

She grinned. "Do you have something against beauty, John?"

"Just never really saw the point in it."

Beauty couldn't keep you alive. Couldn't protect you against all the shit in the world. Sure as fuck couldn't heal a sick kid.

It was. . . what was that word?

Superfluous.

Beauty was fucking superfluous.

"Something doesn't need to have a point in order to possess value. Some of the most valuable things in the world have no point at all. That doesn't make them any less worthy of existence." Murphy very barely managed not to roll his eyes. It felt like a scolding one might give to an amusing but highly mistaken child. Unbeknownst to Luna, he was immune to scolding of any kind. "But I disagree with you. I think it does have a point."

"And that is?"

"To break up the darkness." Oh God, he was in for another deep and meaningful. Why did he even open his mouth? Silence around Luna was truly key. Unless he was interrogating her about any feelings she may or may not have for a certain mechanic. "To notice beauty, you have to stop and appreciate it. Absorb it. It's hard to focus on the darkness when you do that. To even remember it exists."

She should write poetry. Or a self-help book.

Preferably somewhere far, far away from him.

"Yeah, well, like I said: the darkness can kiss my ass. And I don't need beauty or anything else to invite it to do so."

Luna only smiled, returning to her smelly fish-washing. No doubt something she also considered beautiful.

The humming started again.

Murphy rolled his eyes but didn't comment this time.

Thankfully, it didn't last long.

"Did you know Raven up on the Ark?"

He paused in the process of dicing a particularly stubborn clove of garlic. Now, this could get interesting. "Little bit. Not well. She wasn't in the Sky Box with the rest of us less fortunates."

Lucky her.

"Sky Box?"

"Jail."

Luna grimaced. "Right. She told me Skaikru could be. . . overzealous when it came to imprisoning people."

Overzealous?

He snorted. "That's one way of putting it. But before then, I used to see her around. Or when she came to visit Finn. Her ex," he added for Luna's benefit. "Charming fellow. Really did a number on her from what I can tell."

Because that was one can of worms Raven clearly needed to work through and if anyone could get her to open it up and take a gander, his money was on Luna.

There was a gleam of interest in the Grounder's eyes but, to his disappointment, she didn't pick up the bait. Apparently she respected Raven's privacy a lot more than him.

Murphy really needed to stop hanging around people with ethics.

They only sucked the fun out of life.

Luna returned her gaze to the fish, patting it dry. "Was she always so. . ."

"Infuriating?"

Luna sent him a look. "Intense."

"Noooo, I think infuriating's the word. Might add 'completely off her shit' for good measure." She pinched his elbow. Murphy yelped, more in surprise than anything. "Hey!"

"Be nice."

What kind of harebrained ill-conceived-

"Raven and I don't do nice."

"You're nice to me."

Good point. He should probably stop that. "Yeah, well, you compliment my cooking."

"Right." Luna's mouth twitched, a definite sign she wasn't buying it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"And Raven has a massive hard-on for you so of course she's tripping over herself to be nice."

And there it was. Out in the open.

Her brow furrowed. "Hard on?"

Or not.

Murphy considered his options. Was the momentary glee of witnessing Raven in her fury and humiliation worth the inevitable punch to the face?

Probably not.

His head was still recovering from whatever-the-fuck-that-thing-was she threw at him the other day.

Murphy sighed. "She thinks you're amazing."

Luna blinked a moment before her lips drew up into a surprised smile, eyes creasing at the edges. It was the softest expression he'd ever seen from her - and that was saying something.

Okay, yeah. This is better than getting punched.

He'd leave the two to continue on in their blind stumble towards each other for now. Frustrating though it may be to watch. At least it offered some entertainment.

And less broken noses.

"And in answer to your question, yeah. She was always this 'intense'. But the ground's certainly made her flourish."

Luna's mouth pinched. "She pushes herself too hard."

Well that he couldn't argue with. "It's what she does." And they'd probably all be dead otherwise. Murphy certainly wasn't going to complain.

Luna clearly didn't share his feelings on the matter, if her grip on that poor fish fillet was anything to go by.

He shrugged, scraping the diced garlic into a bowl. "But if you're wondering whether it's gotten worse. . . yep. By a mile."

Murphy hadn't forgotten the conversation he'd overheard between Abby and Raven, after that first seizure. How the mechanic's bullheadedness was likely going to end up killing her.

For some reason, he didn't much like the thought of that.

But maybe Luna could succeed in getting her to slow down if the rest of them couldn't. She seemed to be the only person Raven was inclined to listen to at the moment.

The power of lust.

Luna frowned, reaching for a few sprigs of rosemary. The lightness of before had vanished, her features darkening as she sprinkled the herbs over their fish.

Murphy wondered if she, too, was privy to what the consequences would be if Raven kept going as she was. Full steam ahead. No breaks. No seat belt. Just a thread of glass between her and total annihilation.

He didn't ask.

Couldn't risk it.

Murphy may be an ass but even he had his limits. That was one secret he wouldn't take away Raven's right to keep.

Not when he'd already taken so much else from her.

"So . . . does that song you were humming have any words?"

Luna smiled weakly but it was at least a departure from the melancholy. "It does. And it happens to be in English."

"Even better."

Maybe it would be less grating on his ears. Unlikely, but he had to hope.

Murphy held in a sigh. The things he did for women who could kick the shit out of him if they wanted to. And some of them did very much want to.

Luna, thankfully, was so far not among them.

Probably best to stay in her good books just to be sure, though. For his own self-preservation. Not because he cared or anything.

Purely self-serving.

Luna's smile gradually relaxed as she started to sing and Murphy wished that didn't bring him any relief.

I'm getting way too fucking soft.

Raven held up the ends of her hair skeptically as she made her way towards the kitchen. Despite having spent the majority of her shower picking out bits of debris, the mechanic still wasn't entirely confident that she was home-free.

Maybe she should get Luna to check later.

But that would involve the other woman's hands sifting through her hair, her face invading the little bubble of protection Raven kept around herself. . .

Yeah, no.

Her hair was fine.

Letting go of the strands, Raven poked her head into the kitchen, spying Murphy and the woman she was looking for over at the sink, still apparently hard at work - and deep in conversation.

"So, Luna. . . what do you look for in a woman? Or man, I don't judge." He tilted his head to the side. "Dark hair? Infuriatingly stubborn personality? No self-preservation instincts whatsoever?"

Oh, hell no!

Raven burst into the room. "Seriously, Murphy? We're trying to save humanity, not run a dating service."

"Just making conversation."

And smirking up a storm whilst he was at it.

She glared.

Luna, for her part, appeared befuddled by the whole affair. Poor thing. Clearly, it was a mistake to leave the two of them alone together. Ever.

"Raven, for instance," Murphy continued, as if there'd been no interruption, "prefers pacifists." The mechanic's eyes widened. "Or at least people who claim to be before they go and-"

"Murphy!" What the hell? Was he trying to get punched? "Seriously?"

"Right, sore subject." He didn't look at all apologetic for the fact, though. Sometimes Raven swore he'd come out of the womb missing a sensitivity gene.

He mouthed something at Luna in an exaggerated fashion, expression loaded with far too much meaning.

Raven squinted. T-Rex?

Were they having a secret conversation about dinosaurs or something?

The other woman's eyes filled with understanding - and a faint note of disapproval, which she directed back at Murphy.

Did Luna not like dinosaurs?

Okay, this was just getting ridiculous.

Raven huffed. "Is dinner ready yet?" Because she was ten seconds away from dragging Murphy out by the ear - and she would not be gentle about it.

Luna tried for a smile to smooth over the awkwardness, didn't quite manage. "Ten more minutes."

Great.

"Anything you need help with?" No way she was leaving the two of them alone for that long. With her luck, she'd come back to find Murphy had set them up on a blind date!

"No, everything's mostly done. But Abby's still in the lab, someone should go get her."

Double-great.

Well, that backfired quickly.

Luna didn't miss her reluctance. "I can go do it. John can keep an eye on dinner."

A far more preferable outcome.

Except now, Raven was noticing the slight sag to Luna's shoulders, the way her eyes seemed a little less bright. It had been a long day and she hadn't forgotten what the other woman had told her about the current state of her health.

Plus, it was fucking freezing outside and she'd caught a few stray shivers on Luna's end, despite being within the heated walls of the mansion.

Murphy, of course, didn't offer up his services. Lazy ass.

Ignoring the persistent ache in her hip, Raven forced a smile. "Nah, I'll do it. I've been wanting to talk to Abby about something anyway."

That was putting it lightly.

Very lightly.

She turned to go-

"Raven?"

Halted.

Luna's lips peeked up. "You smell much nicer now."

She rolled her eyes to hide the zappity zip zap her heart had just produced and stomped off. "Very funny."

Like Luna could even smell her from all the way over there.

The airy chuckle behind Raven helped her to ignore the smirk that had plastered itself across Murphy's face at the comment.

He was loving this far too much.

Way too fucking much.

She felt slightly better, though, when she heard Luna's next words. "So. . . this Sky Box you mentioned, how long were you in there for? I can imagine that must have been a very difficult time in your life, John. . ."

Oh yeah, he was in for some Luna-therapy.

Couldn't happen to a more deserving person.

Raven stepped through the doors to the lab, staring for a moment at the doctor bent over her microscope, having fallen victim to sleep at some point.

She almost didn't want to wake her.

Almost.

She and Abby needed to have a talk.

Raven tapped lightly on the wall and the doctor flinched, snapping awake with a snort.

A smile crooked her lips a moment. "Fall asleep for a second there, Doc?"

Abby smiled thinly, rubbing at her face with a sigh. "So it would seem." Recovering, she turned to Raven. "Was there something you needed?"

Because that was what their friendship had dwindled down to now. Conversations sparked by necessity. It wasn't intentional on either of their parts. At least, Raven didn't think so. They were just both so fucking busy and consumed by their own little missions and anxieties.

It hardly left time for pleasantries.

(still find time for daily strolls with Luna though, don't you?)

And, okay, things had been a little tense between them ever since the incident with the antiradiation meds. She knew Abby had lost some respect for her that day and Raven. . .

Well, Raven was a little hurt that she'd lost that respect. That she hadn't understood.

Hadn't understood just how much it had cost Raven to be the one to deny her those pills. To sentence a child to death.

And maybe a part of her resented Abby for forcing her to be the rational one. The responsible one. She was the doctor. She knew better than Raven just how useless those pills really were. But she'd begged for them anyway.

And made Raven draw the line.

And it hurt because. . .

Because that was exactly the kind of thing her mother would have done. Forcing her to be the adult in a situation. Make the tough decision. Deny her what she wanted because they couldn't afford for her to have it.

How many times had Raven denied her pleading, sobbing mother their rations because she knew the woman would only use them on booze anyway? How many times had she had insults hurled at her for the effort?

What happened with Abby wasn't the same. Not by any stroke.

But what Raven had felt in that moment, what she still felt lingering between them now. . .

That was sickeningly familiar.

Even if the meds had worked - which she'd known they wouldn't - what would have been the point?

What was the point in saving a kid when they knew they'd only be tossing her back out onto death's door once the deathwave came? At that moment in time, they'd had no idea that nightblood could save them. Only that they had a limited number of spots inside the Ark - and none of them would be open to any Grounders.

Raven hadn't seen the point in even attempting to save someone who would be dead in a matter of weeks regardless.

She wondered if Luna would have.

Probably.

Most definitely.

And not just because it was Adria.

But Abby?

Abby had participated in the culling on the Ark. Had turned her own husband in and allowed her daughter to be locked up and later sent down to almost certain death.

Where the fuck did Abby get off judging her?

Luna could judge her. Raven wanted Luna to judge her. To hold her accountable for what she'd done. Obeying the cold laws of rationality when it was a child's life on the line.

But Abby?

Abby didn't get to fucking judge her.

Not for that.

Not for doing what she had to when Abby wouldn't.

Refused to.

( 'You tell yourself that if you need to, but the radiation isn't killing that child. You are.')

The words had stung. In the same way her mother's used to.

Worse.

Because they'd come from Abby.

But Raven hadn't come here to talk about that. Would probably never talk about that. To do so would be to rip open a wound she'd displayed to no-one except Finn.

Let it go.

Raven crossed her arms. "Luna's still sick from the radiation."

Abby blinked in confusion at the statement, clearly striving to catch up to a conversation she hadn't realized they'd be having. "She's still recovering, yes, if that's what you mean."

"Why is she still recovering? I thought this nightblood shit was supposed to fix her. Fix us."

That was its whole selling point, after all.

The doctor looked at her much in the same way as Raven would look at someone after they'd just said something incredibly stupid about mechanics - an all too common occurrence. It kind of sucked being on the receiving end.

"Her blood finally succeeding in metabolizing the radiation didn't magically undo all the damage it caused when it was still in her system. The human body doesn't work like that."

Raven tensed. "What kind of damage?"

Abby hesitated and settled more comfortably into her seat. She looked like she still needed about twenty-four hours more sleep. Raven pushed down the sliver of guilt that rose for waking her.

None of them were getting any sleep.

"When Luna and her clan arrived, they were in the advanced stages of Hematopoietic and Gastrointestinal syndrome. On the Ark, we would have had more methods available to treat them - possibly even cure them - but down here we only had the antiradiation meds. . ."

Raven shifted. "Your point?"

"Luna was very sick. Her organs were shutting down and she was experiencing bone marrow failure."

Raven tightened her arms around herself. "But that's not the case now."

"No. She's doing very well. Amazingly well, in fact. But her organs and bone marrow are still recovering. I expect they'll continue to do so for some time. And that makes what we're doing here more difficult. She still has radiation-acquired aplastic anemia, even if it's no longer as severe, and iron deficiency anemia from the gastric bleeding." Raven's stomach turned. She hadn't known the details of what Luna's body had endured. Hadn't wanted to. "And. . . taking any of her blood right now isn't helping her heal."

"Okay, so it's not working to her benefit. But is it making her worse?"

Abby pursed her lips. "Not dangerously so."

Raven stared at her in disbelief. "Abby-"

"The problem is that we're taking more blood than we should, even with a healthy patient."

What the fuck?

"Then stop."

"We can't and you know it." Raven wilted under the force of her glare and Abby sighed, rubbing her head. "I want to stop, Raven. Believe me, I do. But I can't. Not yet. At the moment, Luna's life isn't at risk. Just her health."

"And if that changes?" Raven was ten seconds away from grabbing Luna and dashing to the boat. Well, okay it would be more of a mad stumble but the option stood.

Abby looked shocked by the question. "Then we'll stop. Of course we'll stop. I'm a doctor, Raven. I'd never endanger a patient's life."

"Not even to save all humanity?"

She pursed her lips, was silent. "I took an oath."

Raven eyed her, trying to judge the doctor's sincerity. Decided it was as good as she was going to get. "Okay."

"We're monitoring her levels closely. Very closely. If there's a drastic dip we'll see it and stop immediately. She's not in danger. She also doesn't need you to fight her battles for her. Luna's well aware of the risks. I've discussed them with her already."

"You have?"

Knowing that Luna had agreed to this shit was somehow worse than if she'd been kept in the dark.

"Yes. On our second day here. When we first started."

So after they'd gotten Luna to the island and confirmed that she wasn't going to run away. Not before. Not back in Arkadia, when things were still up in the air. "Right."

Abby fixed her with a look and although it was firm, there was a shadow of hurt there. "I do value informed consent, Raven."

"I know."

Darkly, she wondered how long that would hold out.

There was also the question of whether or not Abby had bothered to explain what all of this shit really meant. Raven didn't even know what half of the fucking conditions she'd listed were, let alone understand them. How the hell was Luna supposed to? She was coming from a whole other system of medical terms and knowledge. And, what, she was just somehow supposed to match it all up to whatever Abby laid down? Raven sure as fuck wouldn't be able to if their roles were reversed. She didn't even know what the Grounder word for flu was.

Just throwing a bunch of obscure terms at her probably wasn't going to achieve much in the way of a warning.

Though, she admitted to herself that Luna probably would dismiss such a warning even if she did understand its full meaning.

She wasn't a martyr. Raven had seen her stand up for her rights, put her own well-being first. She wasn't about to throw herself off a cliff for their sakes, which was a comfort. But Raven also got the sense that when Luna committed to something, she really committed to it.

And that she wasn't particularly concerned with her own health right now. Or her life.

Not that Raven could talk. She could give Luna a run for her money in that arena.

Still didn't mean she had to like it.

Oh well, Raven was just going to have to care enough for her.

"This anemia shit, isn't there some way you can treat it?"

"Normally, yes. If we had the supplies."

Raven glanced around them in disbelief. "We're in Becca's lab! Surely there's something here."

"There is. She has growth factors which would have helped Luna's bone marrow recover faster. Unfortunately, things tend to expire after a century or so."

Fucking nuclear Apocalypse. It really was the root cause of all her problems.

"What about back at Arkadia?"

"It's the same problem," Abby sighed. "Growth factors don't last long. What little we had expired after hitting the ground. And as for iron supplements. . . well, we used up our supply of those years ago after we ran out of the necessary ingredients on the Ark."

"So make more."

Did she have to think of everything?

Abby sighed, massaging the center of her brow. Raven got the sense that she was fast becoming an unwelcome irritant. Well, good. "I'm not a chemist, Raven. I was never trained in that. I didn't have to be. That was always somebody else's job."

"Fine. Let's get them."

Simple enough. Sure, the extra boat trips would set them back a bit but. . .

"His living quarters were on Orchid Station."

Raven closed her eyes. Of course it would be one of the stations that hadn't survived the drop to earth. "You're kidding?"

"I wish I was." Abby's expression was one of pained exhaustion - and resignation. "You have no idea how difficult it's been to take care of everyone with our limited supplies. The resources we got from Mount Weather helped some but we lost a lot of it in the explosion."

Fucking Azgeda.

Raven huffed, turning away. She paced back and forth for a moment, running through their options. There weren't any.

Their luck was shit.

"So what you're saying is the universe is working against us?"

Abby smiled thinly. "That certainly seems to be the case."

Great, that was just great.

"What about the white blood cell thing, how long will it take for that to get better?"

Can 't  solve one problem, move on to the next.

"It's hard to say. Her neutrophils should recover first, probably before Praimfaya arrives, but her lymphocytes will take longer. If I'm to judge from looking at immune system recovery in other patients - which isn't at all accurate given I've never had a patient in this situation - I'd say months for some cells and years for others."

Years?

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that she's going to be vulnerable to infection for some time."

Great. Fucking great.

"So, what, do we put her in a bubble? Like that guy in that movie." She'd seen bits and pieces of it on the Ark. Didn't think Luna would appreciate running around in an oversized hamster ball.

Abby leveled her with a look. "No. She just needs to be careful. Luna's white cell count is low but it's not that low."

No hamster ball then. Luna would be thrilled.

"Are you doing anything to help her?"

Because it sure as fuck didn't seem like it.

"Of course. I've prescribed her four-hundred milligrams of fluconazole daily until her neutrophil count rises to a satisfactory level. Which it will," Abby added, with a pointed look. "It's a precautionary method but a necessary one. The last thing we want is for her to contract a fungal infection."

Raven's brow furrowed. "What's so bad about that? I mean, besides being annoying as hell."

She'd gotten one a couple of times as a kid - kind of a right of passage on her station, no doubt due to the overcrowding and having to rely on communal showers - and it had been itchy and gross as hell, but hardly a cause for alarm.

Abby sighed. "Systemic fungal infections can be fatal." She hesitated. "That was the cause of death for two of her clan members."

"Shit."

Kidnapping Luna off the island probably wasn't going to do anything to protect against that. Ironically, the safest place for her right now was probably closest to Abby.

Raven turned away, trying to find something else in the lab to look at, to focus on.

Luna was fine. A little tired, a little pale. But fine.

Nothing was going to happen to her.

She was safe as houses compared to the rest of them.

She'd be fine.

Abby continued, oblivious to her rising anxiety. "So far the fluconazole seems to have done her well. She's shown no signs of infection. But it would help if I didn't have to hunt her down every day to take it."

Raven snorted. "Not the best patient?"

"Not in the least." Abby pursed her lips. "I'm not sure she understands the necessity of it. Or the severity of the situation."

Or she just doesn't care.

"It doesn't help that stress lowers the body's lymphocytes and Luna can't afford to lose any more at the moment."

"Good thing she's a meditation-aholic then."

The humor fell flat.

Everything felt flat.

But Abby tilted her head, considering. "Mm. Actually, you're right. I'd be prescribing daily meditation anyway if Luna didn't already have it taken care of."

Still, Raven wasn't exactly sure how meditation was supposed to stand up against losing everyone you'd ever loved and being proclaimed the messiah of the human race all in a couple of months.

That was a hell of a lot of stress to contend with.

Abby shook herself. "It's not ideal, I know. But none of this is. The important thing is that Luna's getting better. There were still traces of radiation in her blood shortly before we came to the island. But now that it's completely gone from her system, her cells have been better able to start their recovery. She will be fine. It's just going to take time."

Time.

Time was the one thing they didn't have.

Raven ran a finger over the table. "Will there be any permanent damage? From the radiation."

Abby hesitated. "I can't say for certain. We don't know how the original nightbloods handled exposure to high radiation levels - whether it had a long-term impact on morbidity or survival. All we know is that enough of them were able to reproduce in order for nightblood to still exist in the gene pool today. But that doesn't tell us anything about their overall health or longevity."

It wasn't what Raven had hoped to hear.

"So even if we succeed in making nightblood, it might not save us?"

She told herself that was what she was most concerned with, and not the woman who was currently holding Murphy hostage in a cooking lesson turned therapy session - no doubt much to his dismay.

(Luna certainly knew how to seize an opportunity)

Abby shook her head. "No, it will save us. It's only the extent of the protection it will provide that's in question." She sighed. "But as I told Luna, it's all just hypothetical. I could very well be catastrophizing over something that isn't even a possibility. Luna is recovering well considering the circumstances, and that's a good sign. For all of us. I'm just considering all bases."

Raven couldn't help her next words, the bite to her tone. "Yeah, well, taking her blood isn't helping in that recovery all that much, is it?"

Wasn't sure if all her anger was entirely for Luna's sake.

That her unresolved feelings over what had happened with Abby weren't threading through some of that anger, sharpening it.

The doctor sighed. "Raven. . ."

"I know. It needs to be done. Luna knows that too." Didn't mean Raven had to like it. For all the effort she'd put into convincing the other woman to stay, the success of that endeavor was making her increasingly nauseous. She wished there was a way to save everyone that didn't require harming Luna in the process - physically or emotionally.

But she hadn't lied that day they went for their first walk. If Luna woke up tomorrow deciding that she'd had enough, that she wanted to get the fuck off this shitty island, then Raven wouldn't stand in her way. Not again.

But hell if she was going to disclose that little fact to Abby.

She was a doctor. She cared about people. Wanted to save them.

But she'd also proved herself willing to sacrifice both her husband and her daughter in order to do so.

Raven wouldn't forget that.

Not when there was this much at stake.

She didn't know when or how exactly but at some point, Luna had become one of her people. Part of the select few Raven would fight tooth and nail to protect.

Abby was one of those people too, so it would be really nice if she didn't end up becoming someone Raven had to protect Luna from.

"Will you be stopping soon? For a while, anyway. You know, since the rocket is no longer a go." It went against every stubborn iota of her being to admit that - because if Raven had her way, it was most definitely going to be a go sooner or later - but for Luna's sake she could.

For Luna's sake she could admit that she might just not be able to pull off a miracle.

Might not be able to save them.

"Yes. We have enough samples for now." Abby hesitated, though, a shadow in her expression hinting that she was holding back. Keeping Raven in the dark about something. Hell if she knew what. "Her body needs the break anyway."

I 'l l bet.

Luna's body probably needed a vacation on a tropical island. Raven's too, come to think of it.

If they survived Praimfaya maybe they could pencil that in.

You know, if her brain didn't kill her first.

Abby sighed, looking back down to her tablet. "She'll be fine, Raven. A lot more fine than the rest of us, at any rate."

Depended on your definition of fine.

"So this is what we've got to look forward to, huh? If the whole nightblood thing works."

Didn't exactly paint a rosy picture.

Another sigh.

Raven could tell she was pushing Abby past the point of all patience. Didn't really care.

It was something she'd done all the time with her mum. So often she'd almost stopped feeling the sting of skin on skin, when it finally came.

Abby had only slapped her once.

Somehow it had hurt more than a dozen of her mother's blows put together. Because she hadn't expected it.

But that was Raven's fault for trusting her to be different. Better. For daring to think that she could have love without the pain that went along with it.

(Finn should have more than driven that lesson home already)

Abby kept her eyes focused on the tablet. "I suppose so. But only temporarily."

"Except you don't actually know that. You don't know anything for sure."

The tablet smacked against the table as she looked up.

Raven didn't flinch back.

"I know that nightblood will make it possible for us to survive Praimfaya. That's all that matters."

Maybe to you.

(would Abby have put down the gun that day on the dock? Would she have let Luna walk away?)

Raven clenched her jaw, deliberated on whether she wanted to push this any further.

Ultimately decided that she'd had enough. They both had.

"Dinner's ready."

Raven didn't wait for a response, feeling the tension clasping her spine as she walked away.

All she wanted now was to find Luna and breathe in some of her calm. Cos hell if she didn't need a tank full of it right now.

Abby watched her friend leave with pursed lips. The conversation had been a particularly unpleasant thing to wake up to and she hadn't expected that level of accusation from Raven. Though, the mechanic had always been the most willing to speak her mind. And Abby could admit that her concern was far from unwarranted.

The state of Luna's health was, well. . .

It could take years to fully recover from organ failure - and some people never did. Luna's blood could only help her so far in that regard. Whilst she would no longer endure any further damage, the damage had still been done.

Perhaps if she'd come to Arkadia sooner and they'd actually been in possession of the tools and medication necessary to treat radiation poisoning, that damage would not have extended so far - might even have been delayed until her blood had time to metabolize the radiation.

Becca had some of the equipment - if not the medication - here that could be used to manage the symptoms of ARS. That might prove beneficial to the rest of them in the future. They wouldn't be able to help everyone, but those in the highest positions of responsibility - with the most to do - could be aided, at least partly. She'd discuss it with Clarke. Make a log of everything they had and how it could best be put to use.

Abby frowned, looking one last time over the readings from Luna's most recent blood draw, the numbers doing little to ease the tension in her temples.

The ARS had caused lymphopenia, thrombocytopenia, anemia, and neutropenia. All of which had persisted even after Luna's blood had managed to metabolize the radiation - something not altogether unsurprising. It would take time for her body to repair the damage that had been done and for her cells to return to normal. But that was little help right now when Abby had a patient who was at high risk of excessive bleeding and infection - and thus the poorest candidate she had ever seen for donating blood. In any quantity.

Still, in spite of this, Luna appeared to be fairing well.

True, there'd been some minor issues of increased bleeding after blood draws and her wound repair was less than optimal but so far she seemed to be coming through as good as could be expected. Most importantly there'd been no signs of infection, thank God.

Luna would be fine.

But the new plan of attack Abby had been toying with ever since they'd lost the barrel carried far more risk than a simple blood draw. For a healthy patient, she wouldn't bat an eye at performing the procedure but for one whose health was currently as compromised as Luna's. . .

If it was only her own life on the line, Abby wouldn't even be considering it now. But it wasn't. It was everyone's. It was Clarke's. And there was no other option.

She'd crossed larger lines on the Ark, lines that had cut into her soul, creating wounds that would never truly heal.

This line was much thinner, barely a speck in comparison.

Crossing it was unpalatable but Abby knew it wouldn't mark her for life like the other ones had. Wouldn't leave her with nightmares that never truly faded.

She would take every precaution to ensure Luna's safety. Whilst there was risk, that risk was small. She'd performed bone marrow extractions in the past, Abby knew her way around them, how to proceed with the utmost care. Luna would be in good hands.

It would prolong her recovery, likely leave her feeling extremely unwell, but that was a small price to pay if it saved the lives of hundreds, possibly thousands of people. Something she suspected the other woman would agree with.

Abby would volunteer to do it herself if only she could. If only she had the blood.

But she didn't.

That cross was Luna's to bear and there was nothing they could do about it.

This was what they could do. What Abby could do.

This was her cross to bear.

Now she just had to introduce Luna to the idea and (hopefully) gain her consent. But not yet. It would be best to give her blood count a little more time to recover.

Abby just didn't know how much time they could afford to grant.

Chapter Text

'I can't drown my demons,  they know how to swim. . .'

- Can You Feel My Heart by Beyond the Horizon

Lexa was dead.

Lincoln was dead.

Bouin, better known as Cap, was dead.

Austin was dead.

Shay was dead.

Krei was dead

Derrick- Oh, God Derick.

How could Luna have lost them all in the space of two days?

Two days.

Even Titus was gone.

As a child, he'd seemed almost immortal to her. A specter that would always be there, for better or worse. A constant. It was only now that she realized a part of her had held onto that impression all through the years.

But he was as mortal as the rest of them.

Gone.

So many were just. . . gone.

Luna's sanctuary had been invaded, violated. She'd been tortured by those she loved, near forced to take the Flame and, at the end of it all, had reneged on her vow. She'd killed again. More than once.

So quickly. So easily.

Like she'd never stopped at all.

The skill had come back to Luna without hesitation. Her people, her friends, hadn't stood a chance. Could never stand a chance.

Not against her.

She'd cut them down with so little effort.

Luna wished it had been harder. Physically, at least. Wished it had taken longer. That her body hadn't still remembered those moves as intimately as a mother's hug.

(Luna had no notion of what a mother's hug felt like but she knew the steps of combat as though they'd been tattooed onto her feet at birth)

It all felt like a dream. Or rather a nightmare that Luna still held out hope she could wake from.

She didn't even know how to begin grieving all that she'd lost. It was so much at once. Too much.

But she still had Floukru. And most important of all, she still had Adria. Luna hadn't lost her.

That would have to be enough.

She'd survived on less.

"Luna?"

She flinched, muscles still tense from the events of the day. She'd hidden away from the subdued festivities the first chance she could, relieved that the Sky People were finally gone from her sanctuary and A.L.I.E. along with them. Luna was exhausted enough to sleep, but too emotionally wrought to make the attempt.

(every time she shut her eyes, she saw Derrick's deadened ones staring back at her from behind her lids. Every time she shifted in bed, the abundant space reminded her of who would never fill it again)

She'd just wanted to be alone. And her room was the only place in Floukru that offered that.

Or so she'd assumed.

Adria stood in the doorway, shifting awkwardly as she tried to maintain the weight of the toddler on her hip. At two-years-old, Reed had been born into Floukru but his mother had relinquished him after six months in order to return to her clan. She'd wanted her child to have a better life, but she hadn't been able to forsake her duty to her people in order to give herself one as well.

Luna understood how painful such a decision was and had promised to keep him safe.

(a promise she had very nearly failed in)

Within weeks, Adria had 'adopted' the baby, deciding that he was her honorary little brother - since Luna had time and time again refused to give her one by more direct means - and was henceforth her responsibility.

It worried Luna a little, even as it warmed her heart. The girl was already too serious for her age. She had no need to add yet more gravity to her life. More responsibility.

As it was, Adria considered the world and all that happened within it - including its faults - as resting solely on her shoulders.

It wasn't a belief Luna had yet been able to break her of.

"What are you doing up so late?" she croaked, wincing at the way the words cut across her throat. It was raw from crying, from desperately gasping for breath in the few moments she was granted it.

She'd never thought that water could be used against her. . .

So many things had been. But not that. Never that.

Never until today.

"Reed had a nightmare."

The boy on Adria's hip stayed sucking his thumb, staring at Luna serenely.

A likely story.

"Ah. I see." She suppressed a smile, though it wasn't hard - the beginnings of the expression felt dead on her lips, too weak to hold. "Would Reed like it if you both spent the rest of the night in my bed, then?"

Adria nodded a little too eagerly, already scrambling across the room. Reed gave a squawk at the sudden change in pace, grasping at her hair. The girl winced but didn't try to disentangle him.

This time, Luna's smile was strong enough to let through.

"You went away," Adria said, voice faintly scolding after all three of them had settled on the bed. Reed stayed perched between them, sitting up as he inspected the ceiling with profound interest, occasionally offering slurred commentary.

Luna bit her lip. "I know."

She hadn't meant to.

(a lie)

She just hadn't been able to stand the thought of facing Adria after what she'd done. Of taking the chance that she would see horror in the child's eyes instead of love. Because now Adria knew. Now she knew what Luna really was. What she had always been.

A killer.

The farthest thing from safe a person could be.

Someone to be feared.

And there was fear in the girl's eyes, now. Just not of Luna.

"Is it because of me?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Adria looked down, playing with the fabric of Luna's top. "I mean. . . it's my fault. What happened with Derrick. If I didn't let myself get caught, you wouldn't have had to kill him. You wouldn't have to kill anyone."

Luna stiffened, dismay filling her chest. "That wasn't your fault, Adria. I don't want you ever thinking that."

"Then why did you go away? Why didn't you come and see me?"

Luna hesitated. She had gone to see Adria. After it was all over, when the child was fast asleep, recovering from the ordeal. She just hadn't wanted Adria to see her. "I suppose I was ashamed."

Her brow furrowed. "Ashamed?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

A simple question, but with no simple answer she could give.

"Because I never wanted you to see me like that." Taking a breath, Luna stroked a hand through her hair, muscles sighing their relief at the sensation. The familiarity of Adria's warmth frightened some of the fears away.

Her brow furrowed. "Like what?"

Like herself.

The self she had tried to dash away against rocks and crashing waves. Bury in the sea.

Luna said nothing, just touched a kiss to her hair, holding tight for a moment.

"I didn't want you to be scared of me," she said, rather than answering.

"Well, that's stupid."

Luna raised a brow. "Oh?"

She stuck up her chin. "Yes, silly. I could never be scared of you. Not ever." She squinted a moment. "You're not a very scary person, Luna." Adria patted her arm somewhat consolingly, as though she might be disappointed or offended by this.

Luna chuckled. "Ah, I see."

"Yes, you do."

She narrowed her eyes at the smug look on the girl's face. "Hush."

There'd been another reason she'd avoided Adria. Avoided everyone, once her required role in the funeral proceedings had been completed. Once the Sky People were gone.

Still fear. But of a different kind.

The darkness had been building inside her all day, ever since Clarke had grabbed the back of her neck, seeking to force Luna into a fate she'd been running from for years. The thought of any of that darkness spreading to Adria terrified her. Sometimes, Luna was surprised that when her palms retreated from the child's body, dark bloody handprints weren't left in their place.

Darker than dark.

Black.

Even now, as her fingers combed through Adria's hair, Luna was somewhat mystified to find the color of the strands unchanging, still pale and glowing in the moonlight, illuminated even further by the candles that lined the room.

Years after her Conclave and Luna still struggled to comprehend how she didn't destroy everything she was gifted to touch.

Tonight had only reaffirmed this struggle.

"Will you sing me my song?"

Luna's lips curved up, the darkness shuddering under the force of innocent light, and she placed a lingering kiss to Adria's forehead, breathing in the scent of rosemary. It hadn't been there earlier in the day and she knew the reason for its presence now, tried not to linger on it. She didn't want the darkness to touch this moment. "Of course."

If Adria wanted her song, then her song she would have.

Luna would do anything for her.

(and now she had the blood-ridden hands to prove it)

Luna smiled, watching as the mansion's other occupants gorged themselves on the day's catch. With their numbers spread across the large dining room table, it was a little like being a child again with the novitiates crowded in the Tower's dining hall, sharing in their meal. Sometimes, discussion would be subdued, the day's activities taking a toll, or else the rare presence of Titus or the Commander would caution them into silence. But at others, a cacophony of sound reigned: tinkling cutlery; a chaos of conversations; and the sprinkling of laughs and exclamations.

There weren't many laughs tonight but everyone seemed more at ease than usual, content in the company of their clan.

(seeds of envy planted themselves inside her but Luna refused to give them water to sprout)

From her own observations over the past few days, it was rare for everyone to be in the same room at once.

Abby and Clarke occupied the end of the table, deep in conversation, and the others granted the mother and daughter some much needed time to themselves; Jackson and Miller were leaning into each other nearby, heads close together as they engaged in enthusiastic conversation; which left John, Emori, Raven, and herself to take up the end of the table.

Roan had made himself absent and Luna couldn't deny that she was relieved by that.

Their history was. . . somewhat rocky and convoluted. Not to mention volatile.

She'd rather not entertain it tonight.

Luckily for her, Roan had always been antisocial even at the best of times.

And these were far from the best of times.

Still, Luna couldn't be completely content. Her meal roiled in her belly as she shifted pieces of fish around on a plate, scraping off flesh with the intention of consumption before ultimately pushing it away.

A waste. But she couldn't help herself.

All it had taken was one bite to take her back, to pull the past into disorientating clarity.

Raven watched her behavior closely. Luna wished she wouldn't. Not tonight. She didn't want to ruin this small moment of peace for her, or the others.

"What's wrong?"

Luna shook her head, frustrated with herself, and the new clothes that clung to her awkwardly. There was no reassurance to be found in them, no history.

She set her fork down, touched the shell that now dangled once more from her neck, just to check that it remained. That at least one thing still did.

Luna wished she could blame her struggle on the nausea that had afflicted her ever since the sickness struck, the way her stomach rebelled at the assault of food most days (a side effect that would pass in time, according to Abby).

But Luna knew better.

Nausea and cramping, she could handle - it would be no different to what she'd faced in those first years after the Conclave - but Luna knew that another bite of the fish set before her would send her rushing to the bathroom.

A waste of food and a waste of energy.

Distracted, she failed to answer the question in time and Raven drew closer, brow furrowing. "Luna?"

Luna's eyes flickered back down to her plate.

The last time she had tasted of fish, it had led to the deaths of everyone she loved.

Strangely, that rather spoiled her appetite. "It's nothing. I just overestimated myself."

Everything was tainted now.

Luna pushed the plate aside, bargaining to return to it later - though cold fish was no treat.

She forced a smile, refocusing her attention on Raven. "So. What do you think of it?"

The other woman had been more than a little hesitant to sample her own plate, though for very different reasons.

Raven hesitated. "Honestly?"

She nodded.

The mechanic's grimace said all. "I hate it."

Luna laughed - and was grateful for the words that had tempted the response from her.

Grateful for Raven.

(And the reliability of her blunt honesty.

Like John, she lacked a certain amount of delicacy and tact.

Luna enjoyed that)

"Speak for yourself," her fellow cook grunted, knife and fork grating at his plate with a force that Luna had to struggle not to wince against. "I think it's brilliant. Certainly beats rat."

Raven whirled. "When did you eat rat?"

John blanched. Emori patted his arm consolingly. "We don't speak of that," despite her sympathetic tone, there was a traitorous curl to her lips.

Raven didn't bother to suppress a smirk as she turned back to her, though Luna had to sympathize with the poor boy.

"I'm sorry for your misfortune." As a child, she'd been taught to conceal her every emotion, to not let it take a foothold on her face. She was glad for that training now, or a smile might have broken free and overshadowed her attempt at sympathy. "They taste worse than snake."

An impressive feat, if ever there was one.

Raven blinked. "Snake? Like, the slithery hissing kind? That bites?"

Luna's mouth twitched.

"Taste worse than raccoon, too," Emori put in her two cents worth.

"Actually, I didn't mind that," Clarke commented. "Squirrel on the other hand. . ."

Raven threw up her hands. "Why has everybody here eaten rats?"

Luna resisted the curl of her own lips and instead clasped her hands under her chin, expression grave. "But nothing is as bad as mudfish."

Emori and Clarke grimaced in shared agreement.

"Snails are petty bad," the blonde countered, though.

"Not if you prepare them right," Luna disagreed, scooping some peas onto her fork.

Raven's eyes snapped to her. "I do not give you permission to feed me snails."

She could no longer contain her smile. "Don't worry, I wouldn't do that to you."

Even if she didn't mind the cuisine herself.

Raven still looked suitably apprehensive, but her lips drew up slightly at Luna's words.

Their gazes lingered a moment, the clashing of utensils and low murmurs fading out, and Luna felt her lungs relax into expansion, drawing upon the air as easily as if she were deep in meditation.

Raven made things still and it was a gift that was becoming more and more noticeable.

(Luna wondered what she would do when the other woman was no longer around to offer it)

"So. . . this isn't going to poison us, is it?" Murphy's voice cut into the calm and Luna's lips pursed as she caught Raven's leg snapping out to kick him under the table.

"What?" His eyes widened. "I meant because of the way you guys caught it!"

Raven sneered, shaking her head. "You're such a dick, Murphy."

It didn't seem to occur to her that she'd asked the same question herself earlier that day.

Luna forced a smile, hoping to ease the tension. "It's fine, John. The fish are only temporarily poisoned and soon recover." If they weren't caught and served up for supper, at least. "Even if that weren't the case, it has no effect on humans. Not at such a small dose."

He shrugged, seemingly satisfied with that, enough so that he didn't hesitate to shove another forkful of their spoils into his mouth. "Guess it doesn't really matter. We're all going to be kicking the bucket soon, anyway."

"Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence, Murphy," Clarke grumbled.

"Hey, you're the one who lost the barrel."

She quietened, melancholy sinking into her features and Luna felt a flash of sympathy for the girl. Whatever uncharitable feelings she might have towards Clarke, none of this was her fault.

"The journey was always going to be risky," she soothed. "Being ambushed by traitors was an unforeseen complication, and hardly your fault."

Clarke returned a weak smile, though Luna could tell that the words had failed to reassure. She was a leader, every loss was her fault. That was how it worked.

If Luna's heart was more open, if she didn't still bear the memory of the other woman gripping her neck as she forced the Flame towards her face, she might have tried harder. Might have sought Clarke out in a moment of solitude, attempted to ease her guilt as she'd done with John the other day.

If her clan were still alive, Luna might care more than she did.

But they weren't.

And she didn't.

Clarke had never apologized for what she'd done, had never even seemed to see the need to. And Luna's compassion had limits. She wouldn't force herself to console someone so far removed from the consequences of their own actions.

She didn't have the energy.

Not now.

She could allow herself this selfishness, if nothing else.

Luna looked up at the sound of movement to see the woman beside her switching their plates. "Raven-"

"You need to eat more." There were only vegetables left on her plate and she'd traded them for the messy remains of Luna's fish.

"Raven, you just said you hated it."

The mechanic shrugged. "It's better than the shit we had on the Ark."

She frowned. Raven shouldn't miss out on the favored parts of her meal just because Luna had overestimated her own fortitude - her ability to heal. "Raven. . ."

She was unmoved. "Consider it payment for nearly drowning you."

Luna sighed, resisting the urge to tell her for the ninth time that she had not nearly drowned her. The whole fiasco had been her own fault. She hadn't cautioned Raven about the slippery stones, hadn't kept a close eye on her despite their unstable footing, and Luna's panicked reaction when going under was the only reason she'd come close to 'nearly drowning' as the mechanic put it. None of that was Raven's fault.

Seeing the resistance on her face, the other woman employed her trump card. "If you get to take care of me, then I get to take care of you. Those are the rules, take em or leave em."

Raven's expression was unbearably smug, confident that she now had her cornered - which she did. If Luna protested her offering any longer, she knew she would find far heavier resistance the next time she attempted to prevent the mechanic from working herself to death.

Reluctantly, she pulled the unwelcome plate towards her in defeat.

Raven smirked. "Good girl."

If Luna was younger, she might have flicked a bunch of soggy peas at her face, but as it was she contented herself with a baleful stare. She felt like a girl again, in those first years after the Conclave, Nyko or Derrick - or, later when she was lucky, Costia - fussing over her and trying to break through her hunger strike (there had been so many in the beginning).

Lincoln had never fussed. He'd simply waited her out, refusing to leave until he was satisfied that she would be alright - or as close to alright as she could achieve in those days. Admittedly, sometimes she'd manipulated this. Resisting food because it was the only way she knew of making him stay. Making anyone stay.

Back then, she hadn't been able to ask.

Hadn't thought she deserved to.

But Luna knew now that she had only to have said the words and Lincoln would have remained, would have stayed for as long as she needed, as long as she wanted.

(perhaps that was another reason she'd never asked)

Costia and Nyko could never stay. They had far too many responsibilities. But she'd known that if things were different, they would have remained for as long as she allowed - and in Costia's case, well past then.

But Derrick. . .

Derrick had come into her life one day and never left. Never even thought to. The steady presence of him had managed to fill some of the cavernous space left by Sol, something she'd never thought possible. She'd had a constant again. Someone she could rely on. Someone to love, and love her in return.

Someone she trusted without hesitation.

His fussing, at first an irritant, almost smothering in its overabundant dedication, had soon become a comfort. A reminder that she wasn't alone. Not anymore.

She would never have to be alone again.

The memory of all this both warmed and pierced her heart, as Luna felt the pang of their loss all over again. When she had given up on life, she still had those who refused to give up on her.

It was a gift she would never be able to repay.

For none of them were alive to receive it.

With this in mind, Luna's irritation fled and she unveiled a small smile. The best she could manage. At the very least, it didn't lack for heart. "Thankyou."

Raven blinked, surprised at the gratitude - possibly because she would never muster up such a feeling herself, if the tables were turned. But whilst Luna hated to be fussed over as well, she understood it not to be an attack. Life was too short to be resentful of things that brought you no harm, but were merely an attempt at aid. Her pride had always been one of her greatest hindrances but Luna had subdued it in the years since her childhood.

She was hardly going to let it make a comeback now.

Eyeing her cautiously - as though she feared this a trick of some kind - Raven returned her attention to her new plate. She was unable to contain a slight wrinkling of her nose, though. "Did you really live off this stuff for years?"

Luna nodded, easing slightly. "Mm. It was a necessity at first and, I confess, like you I wasn't particularly fond of the taste. But now I love it." Or, she had loved it. "Adria was so fussy in the beginning, though. I thought she might starve because she refused to take a bite out of anything we gave her. Derrick and I used to hunt down small animals just for her sake." She shook her head on a smile, remembering the exasperation of those days. "But she grew accustomed to it eventually."

(Luna wished she hadn't. Maybe if Adria had continued in her detestation for all manner of sea life then. . .

But she wouldn't think on what ifs. Not tonight)

In contrast, fish had always been a favorite of Derrick's but, then, he'd grown up on it. His tastebuds had been trained from birth to desire the slippery little creatures.

He'd taught Luna to love them, too.

He'd taught her to love a lot of things.

She hoped she never forgot any of them.

Luna hadn't thought she'd be able to fall asleep that night, not without Derrick's comforting presence beside her, not with the feel of his blood condensing her hands. But with Adria nestled in her arms and Reed cozied up between them, she found her mind drifting, thoughts growing more and more sluggish.

Perhaps. . .

"Luna?"

"Mm?" she hummed, deciding against opening her eyes. Fatigue clawed at her lids, weighing them down. Luna hadn't been this tired since. . .

No, best not to think of that tonight. She would not taint that moment with the darkness that had consumed today. Though the memory was bittersweet, it was one of the few good ones Luna had between her Conclave and forming Floukru.

She couldn't bear to ruin it.

"Are they going to come back?"

It took her a moment to understand what Adria was asking. "The people from the sky?"

"No. The monsters that made Derrick, Krei and Austin hurt us. Are they going to come back?"

-blinding pain as her hair seemed fit to tear from her scalp, nails digging into her skin as she lost the fight against instinct, water bursting into her lungs and-

Luna swallowed, opening her eyes. The darkness retreated. "No. They're not going to come back."

They should never have been here in the first place.

She should never have invited them in.

But how could she have turned them away? Floukru was open to all who wanted peace, barring none.

The Sky People hadn't wanted peace, though.

Luna should have known. She should have known the danger she'd unleashed upon those in her care the second Clarke presented her with the Flame.

She should never have let them out of that shipping container.

But Floukru would not have been Floukru if she hadn't.

"How do you know?"

"Because the thing they want is no longer here." She moved a hand through Adria's hair, lightly grazing her scalp, as the child gazed up at her with unguarded apprehension. "I sent it away with the Sky People. The monsters were afraid that I would use that thing to hurt them. But now they know I won't." God, she hoped so. She really, really hoped so. "But we won't be taking in any more people for a little while. Just to be safe."

Luna had to compromise.

Had to violate the sanctity of her home, the promise it had been built on, if she was to stand any chance of protecting those already inside it.

But only for a short time.

A.L.I.E. would win or she would lose. Either way, she would have no use for Luna after that.

Perhaps it would be better if she left Floukru until that time came. Perhaps it would be safer for her clan.

For Adria.

But no. It would be pointless. A.L.I.E. would not know she had fled the oil rig unless Luna presented herself to her on a silver platter and that she was unwilling to do.

She would never take the Key.

Or the Flame.

She would never be anyone's to use again.

"Because they could be monsters too?"

Luna nodded, thoughts still preoccupied by darker waters.

"How will we know when it's safe?"

She hesitated. "We'll know."

And we'll know if it will never be safe again.

Adria bit her lip and Luna couldn't decipher her feelings on this, whether she believed her or not. "Would Austin really have killed me?"

Luna frowned, wondering whether the truth was advisable. Whether she should really inflict further horror on the little girl in her arms. She'd already endured too much. "Yes," she decided. "But it wouldn't have been Austin who did it. Austin would never have hurt you."

Adria swallowed, nodded. "It was the monster inside him."

"Yes."

Adria didn't understand yet that monsters were just people who had given up on preserving their humanity. In this case, though, the descriptor was accurate. There had been a monster inside Austin and Derrick, a monster not unlike the ones that resided within the Flame.

Spirits who were determined to shape the world and see their will done, no matter how many lives it cost.

Lexa was among them now.

Luna closed her eyes briefly.

Lexa.

Lincoln, Lexa, and Derrick. How had she lost them all in the blink of an eye?

You didn 't lose Derrick, you killed him.

Just like you killed your brother.

"Luna?"

She opened her eyes. "Mm?"

The child gazed at her a moment, too studiously, and Luna knew that she'd noticed her starting to slip.

"Will you tell us the story of the sea?" Adria bit her lip. "Reed wants to hear it."

Luna smiled, withholding a chuckle as the boy let out a startled noise at the sound of his name, looking at his 'sister' expectantly. "Are you sure? You've heard it so many times."

But not so many that Luna would ever tire of telling it to her.

The story she'd made just for Adria.

When she was small and frightened in a world so big.

So dark.

Adria nodded, more confident now. "Yes."

"Okay. Come here."

Adria's lips drew up and she shuffled closer, resting her head on Luna's shoulder. The warm weight of her was comforting and she sighed, absorbing the feeling for a moment.

Luna closed her eyes and imagined a world where the darkness couldn't find her. A world where all who she'd loved and lost would wrap her in their arms again.

A world of peace.

And then she blew that world out through her lips, spun it with words into a tale that could ease the heart of the child beside her.

She closed her eyes and thought of the sea.

The one love that could never leave her.

Chapter Text

'So lately, been wondering

Who will be there to take my place

When I'm gone, you'll need love

To light the shadows on your face. . .'

- Wherever You Will Go by The Calling

"You know, I'm pretty sure the person who does the catching and the cooking is free from washing up," Raven noted, observing Luna as she entered the kitchen. She'd disappeared from the table about ten minutes ago, collecting everyone's plates as she went - and balancing them with an expertise that was more than a little intimidating.

Raven had wanted to follow her retreat but, having noted the sinking of Luna's mood at dinner, thought that maybe she would appreciate some space.

When she'd heard the clattering of dishes and running water, though, her control had fled - the woman already did enough for them without becoming their maid too!

Luna hummed. "And yet John and Emori have been doing it every night."

"Yeah, but they make a game out of it," Raven countered. "I've seen what they do with those bubbles - and one time was very disturbing."

She shuddered at the memory and Luna's nose wrinkled. "Perhaps for sanitary reasons then, someone else should do the washing up from now on?"

Raven snorted. "I do not volunteer."

Luna's eyes gleamed and Raven swallowed, stomach flipping off course, before she turned her attention elsewhere. Thankfully, Luna's clothes offered a more than appropriate distraction.

To say it was somewhat unsettling seeing the Grounder out of her usual attire would be an understatement and all throughout the night Raven had found herself missing the soft blues and greens she'd become so used to.

She even missed her stupid jacket.

(not that she would ever admit it)

Frowning, it took Raven a second to notice the other woman turning away, sinking her hands into the soapy water once more.

She groaned at the action, stepping forward. "Luna, really, you don't have to do that."

"It's fine," she said, lifting her shoulders lightly. "I was never allowed to clean as a child. Now I find it soothing."

(Murphy could never get wind of this. He and Emori would be lining up with goddamn wedding bands)

Raven snorted, coming up behind her. "You really are a freak of nature."

Luna grinned and Raven suspected that she took it entirely as a compliment.

"I hate cleaning," Raven admitted a moment later, gazing down at the dirty dishes buried in soap suds. "Was always cleaning up after my mum as a kid." And she'd been messy as hell, though most of that mess consisted of empty bottles and vomit.

Luna's gaze was curious but she didn't push for more information, even though this was the first time Raven had ever mentioned her mother. She liked that about Luna. That she could make a comment without expecting to be eviscerated for it. That what she had to give was taken as enough, no calls for more than that.

It made sharing easier.

"It's not for everyone," Luna decided finally, and turned back to the sink.

Raven exhaled before coming up beside her, reaching for one of the wet dishes and swiping a towel off the bench. Luna's mouth curved as she reluctantly went about the process of drying. "Like meditating?"

Her smile grew. "Like meditating."

Luna had tried a few times since the first attempt to convert Raven but so far had achieved nothing but a frustrated - and somewhat horny - mechanic. But she'd never seemed disappointed or irritated by this outcome (not that Luna knew the horny part, or at least Raven hoped she didn't), only smiling and promising to try again at a later date.

( '. . . if you want to. Meditation isn't for everyone. And whilst it can be helpful for many, that doesn't mean that it will necessarily be helpful for you. If you want to stop, we can.')

Raven did want to stop.

And she didn't.

She wanted to be as comfortable with her pain as Luna so clearly was with hers. She wanted to be able to feel that pain - and the anger it fueled - without losing control and whaling on Murphy, or anyone.

Raven wanted to fix herself.

She was just deathly afraid that she couldn't. That there was no fixing her. That there never had been. She'd been born broken and then life had shattered her beyond repair - and there was nothing she could do to reverse that.

Every time Raven tried meditating with Luna and failed, the worse she felt; the more disappointed in herself she became.

But the meditation also gave her a palatable excuse to spend more time with Luna.

To touch her.

And Raven needed that excuse.

(for herself more than anyone else)

But she also didn't want to spend more time with Luna, to hold her hands and cave under the onslaught of her touch, her warmth.

It was too much.

Too dangerous.

And Raven craved it as much as she feared it.

Sighing, her gaze dropped to the plate in her hand, glad for the distraction it provided, however poor.

Raven could care less about the state of their dishes but she'd always liked having something to do with her hands. Besides, it felt rude as hell to stand back and watch Luna do all the work.

Taking a breath, she began the process of toweling the plate dry, straining to block out the sensation of soft hands, cradling hers. How cool they always were to start with - only to steadily fill with warmth the longer Raven held on. She'd learned to judge the length of time they'd been meditating just by the rising temperature in Luna's hands - how much of Raven's heat she'd absorbed.

She could feel the echo of that heat now, pulsing under her skin. The light graze of Luna's thumb across her knuckles, sending a tingle up her spine. . .

As well as an answering tingle, much lower down.

"Raven?"

She nearly dropped the plate. "Mm- yep?"

Luna's mouth curved as her eyes drifted momentarily towards the dish she was currently clutching for dear life. "I think that's dry now."

"Right." Hastily, Raven placed it in the stack. "Just being thorough."

Luna looked back down at the sink, hair falling in front of her face - but not before Raven caught the ever-expanding path of her grin. "For three minutes?"

"Hey, it was a very wet plate."

"Ah."

"It was!"

"I don't doubt it."

She narrowed her eyes at Luna a moment before retrieving another dripping plate from the sink, grumbling to herself as she set to work on drying it off - for an appropriate length of time.

At least, that was the plan.

It quickly became apparent that Raven was not the best at cleaning or drying dishes, despite her many years of forced experience.

Two shattered plates later and Luna had exiled her to the safety of the kitchen island, several feet back from the sink - where she could no longer be a threat to any inanimate objects.

In Raven's defense, she'd been pretty damn distracted: the memory of Luna's touch chasing her skin with every swipe of the towel.

Fuck. It's like going through puberty all over again.

Swallowing, Raven focused once more on the woman in front of her: the unhurried motion of Luna's hands as she hummed beneath her breath, mouth tilted faintly up - as though she really did find this shit 'soothing'.

Total freak.

Luna flowed through the dishes without a single falter, her movements easy, practiced, almost absentminded - as smooth as a leaf swaying downstream.

(certainly, no broken plates)

Raven wondered whether this was something she'd done a lot in Floukru. Going through the motions of daily chores, side by side with other members of her clan.

She probably missed it.

Probably missed a lot of things.

Raven frowned as the memory of their first conversation entered her consciousness. The empty words that had fallen from Luna's lips, moments before she'd walked away.

"Before you said that all your people were dead. Don't you consider the rest of the Grounders your people?" It was something that had been circling around in her head for days now but she'd been hesitant to bring it up, not wanting to add salt to any wounds - though, that was all she ever seemed to be doing with Luna, every time she opened her big mouth. Most days, Raven couldn't understand why she still wanted to be around her. If someone had stumbled so blindly across her festering sores, Raven would have run the other way - and possibly decked them for good measure.

Luna's clan was a touchy subject and, whilst she had never shied away from talking about them, Raven could see how much it hurt her.

And hurting Luna was the last thing she wanted to do.

But if her maybe-friend still cared about any people other than the ones she'd lost, if there was still a place of some form in the world for her, then Raven would feel a hell of lot better about kicking the bucket and leaving her alone in it.

A lot better.

Luna didn't look up from the plate she was scrubbing. "They stopped being my people the day I ran from my Conclave." She paused, shoulders growing tense as she worked at the plate. "I sacrificed my childhood and my brother for them. I don't owe them anything." She wet her lips. "And they don't want anything from me."

Raven frowned. "Do you not care?"

Luna hesitated, stilling in the process of placing her plate on the rack. It shouldn't have been such a hard question to answer, but apparently it was. "I do. But all they do is fight, and kill. Torture. I won't be a part of that." She turned around, resting her back against the sink as she came to face Raven. "Why should I fight for them when all they've ever done is take from me?"

Good question.

Raven wished she had an equally good answer - something inspiring, preferably - but she didn't. She wanted Luna to care about her people, to have a place with them, because Raven knew she needed people.

Just not as much as they needed her.

And that was the problem.

"You shouldn't," she said, finally. And although the words were unsatisfactory on her end, the way Luna's shoulders relaxed in the next instant was not.

Raven wouldn't guilt Luna into caring for a people who held no love for her. If she did want to fight for them, it would benefit humanity - considering she was the only one capable of saving it - but Raven wouldn't punish her for lacking the desire to do so.

Luna had a right to walk away.

To protect herself.

Raven couldn't. Didn't think she'd ever be able to. But her own people hadn't hurt her to the same degree Luna's had.

Actually, if anyone could empathize with her on that front it was probably Octavia. The girl had suffered from birth at the hands of their people, been rejected by them until, ultimately, she'd come to reject them in return - embracing the Grounders instead.

They'd wanted Octavia, even if her own people hadn't.

Ironically, Luna had been rejected by the Grounders only to become desperately sought after by the Sky People.

The universe was strange. And somewhat senseless.

(Raven could only hope it knew what it was doing)

"You don't have to fight for your people, Luna," she continued. "Or even consider them your people in the first place. But I just. . . I'd feel better if I knew you weren't alone."

The confession was hard to drag out, to admit that she cared enough about her to consider it, but Luna smiled faintly at the words. The appreciation in her eyes was clear, as though she knew just what it had cost Raven to say them.

"I'm not alone, Raven. I have you."

Stomach sinking even as her heart soared, she could only swallow, hands clenching at her sides as Luna turned back to the sink, intent on continuing her task.

But you won' t have me.

She hated that, even through the guilt, a part of her delighted at Luna's words, at the acknowledgment of her importance in the other woman's life. That she mattered, even if it was just as a means to drive away the expanding ache of loneliness.

"About that, Luna, I. . ."

"Yes?"

But Raven's throat closed up. The terrible truth clogging her speech as she stared at Luna's unassuming back. If she told her, she would hurt her.

She didn't want to hurt her.

If Raven didn't tell her, then she would also hurt her. But not for some time. And hopefully by then, Luna would have found herself some other people to care about. Hopefully by then, Raven wouldn't be important to her at all.

(and why did the thought of that fucking hurt so much?)

"Nothing," she breathed.

She couldn't tell her.

Luna glanced over her shoulder, studied Raven a moment, the furrow of her brow and brief flash of disappointment in her eyes translating that she knew it most certainly was not 'nothing', but after a time she turned back, dismissing Raven and her secrets.

Or setting them free.

Raven exhaled, forcing her limbs to relax as she leant back against the counter for support.

She would tell her. Just not yet.

And, hell, if humanity went extinct, she wouldn't have to worry about telling her at all.

. . . she probably shouldn't be praying for that outcome.

"Nyko said that you didn't have any clan before Floukru."

Luna nodded, back still turned. "That's correct."

With everything Raven knew about the Grounders, she couldn't see how that was possible. True, she knew of those like Emori who had been cast out from their clans - but they'd actually needed to be part of one first in order to be cast out. And Luna wasn't like Emori, she'd been accepted by society from birth, treasured even.

Her exile had come later.

"Your father was Trikru, shouldn't that have made you Trikru?" she asked, remembering what Nyko had said. Was that not how it worked?

"And my mother was Delfikru. You can't belong to two clans." Luna pulled the plug on the sink, the sharp whirl of suctioning dishwater making Raven wince, her ever-present headache protesting the sound. "But regardless of that, you need to be born in a clan's territory or else have pledged yourself to that clan in order to be a part of it. I was born in Polis and wasn't at liberty to pledge myself to any clan until after I left. Though, even then no clan but Azgeda would have accepted me - and I think we both know why they'd be interested in a disgraced nightblood with no loyalty to Polis or the Fleimkepas."

Raven pursed her lips, thinking of Ontari. The idea of Nia getting her hands on Luna was. . .

She banished the thought.

Reality was bad enough without conjuring up nightmarish what-ifs for added flavor.

"So you made your own clan instead."

"Eventually, yes."

Fuck. That meant Floukru really had been everything to her. Raven's stomach sank. "When did you do that?"

Satisfied that her work on the dishes had reached completion, Luna turned around, resting casually against the counter. She appeared at ease with this line of questioning, at least, despite the heavy pain associated with it. "Years after I left. Before then, I traveled a lot. The farther away I got from Polis, the less recognizable I became. Some of the outer clans only have a few members that have ever journeyed the distance to the Capital. It was. . . nice," she hesitated, brow furrowing in recollection, "to be a stranger for once. To not be known. I was reminded of my importance every day growing up, but it was when I was away from all that, that I realized how unimportant I truly was - in the grand scheme of things. There's a certain relief in that." She trailed off a moment, lost in the memory. "I stayed with a family for a week whose only concern was ensuring that their children got to eat each day and that they all survived until the next. They didn't know who I was but I think even if they had, it wouldn't have touched them. Politics, war. . . they had no time for it." She smiled, ducking her head and Raven's eyes chased the expression hungrily. "I liked that. But I also knew there was no place for me there. They would have welcomed me staying longer but. . . the longer I stayed, the more I threatened what little peace their lives held. I still thought the Fleimkepas were hunting me at that stage and I couldn't invite that to their door - to anyone's. But the more I traveled, the more I realized I wasn't. . . exceptional. That there were others like me - not nightbloods, but people who were tired of the fighting, of the killing. In Polis, no-one spoke of such things. It would have been, if not treasonous, bizarre. Like a fish proclaiming they didn't like the water. That was our way of life and no-one wanted to upset the balance of it. But on my journeys, I found people who felt differently, who felt as I did. That was. . ." She shook her head, as if still in disbelief over the fact, gaze on some far-off point over Raven's shoulder. "I wasn't alone. Wasn't some erroneous flaw in the makeup of the universe. There were others like me and that. . . well, that meant that perhaps I belonged, that I was meant to be here. Not by mistake but design."

Raven probably shouldn't point out that Luna did exist by design. Becca's design. And the Flame Keepers'.

She was the miracle they all needed, arriving at just the moment when it seemed there were no miracles left to be had.

But she knew Luna wasn't talking about her blood - and the roles she'd been assigned because of it. In many ways, it wasn't Luna's blood that set her apart from others.

It was her heart.

Which was something Raven had recognized the moment that drone had been placed down in front of her, the drone that Luna was under no obligation to retrieve. She'd sacrificed her one chance of escape that day, had put the needs of her (possible) captors above her own.

Because Raven had asked her to.

Because Luna cared. Even after she had been given every reason to stop.

Raven swallowed, massaging the thin band around her wrist, yet more proof of that care.

Luna shrugged, attention returning to her. "Anyway, that was when it first started to form in my mind. The idea to create Floukru. I didn't know how or where, but I knew then that I had to make a place. Not just for me but for everyone like me. Somewhere we could live as ourselves at last. A home." She grew silent for a moment, the small appearance of light shedding itself from her features. "It kept me warm for a time, that idea. The hope of it. But as the months wore on I started to cross paths with other people. . . people who did not share my desire for peace. People who were selfish. And violent. Cruel. . . Eventually, I began to stay away from villages, from homes, from everyone. It was safer that way. But also isolating. As the years passed, I lost sight of my goal. Lost sight of a lot of things. I was alone and I stopped being able to believe that I wouldn't always be alone." She swallowed, hand retreating to her necklace, one Raven hadn't seen since their first day on the island. "It wasn't until Derrick found me that I started to have hope for that dream again."

Raven wondered how old she'd been at the time. Prayed that she was still young, that such loneliness hadn't stayed with her for long. "Well, you succeeded." Raven managed a smile, hoping that it bellied the hurt in her heart. "You made the dream a reality."

"I guess I did." Luna's lips curved a moment before they lost their strength, fell. That reality hadn't lasted long. She sighed, combing some hair behind her ear. "I know that most people consider me to be naive, delusional even - someone who dreams too much and thinks too little. But I'm not. I know that universal peace isn't possible. There will always be people who fight. People who kill. There will always be war. But if I could create just one corner of the world where those who wanted peace could find it. . ." Luna shook her head, falling silent. "But maybe that was only ever meant to be a dream. One that couldn't survive reality."

Raven had the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her. To place a hand over Luna's and not let go until the shadow was driven completely from her face. She knew the touch wouldn't be rejected. That it would even be welcome.

But she couldn't make herself move.

Coward.

Luna sighed before leveling her gaze once more on Raven. "I want to believe that this isn't all there is. That there's more to life than violence. Than death."

There was an underlying current to her voice that she tried to suppress but Raven still heard it.

A plea.

Like Luna wanted her reassurance that this wasn't just the foolish hope born of idealism and delusion.

A lingering naivety that life's cruelties hadn't yet been able to kill.

Raven didn't know what to tell her. She hadn't exactly seen much to convince her of humanity's capacity for peace or, well, anything that didn't suck. Sure, they were smart as hell. Well, some of them were anyway. And they'd invented some really cool shit throughout history (with the slight side effect of some of that shit blowing up in their faces). Hell, she had the literal fucking scars as evidence of just how much people could screw up, of how cruel and reckless and thoughtless they could be.

And she would have to live with those scars for the rest of her life.

And the pain of them.

Finn was the first person who'd shown her there was actually something worthwhile in the human race. The first person who'd made her pause and think that, hey, maybe there were good people in the world. People who were kind. People who cared.

And then he'd gone and broken her heart.

Slaughtered a village to finish off the process.

And that belief had started to wither. And die.

But she'd had Sinclair. Someone who had always done their best to look out for her too. Someone who had died trying to protect her.

(a useless sacrifice that hadn't amounted to anything.

But even if it had, Raven still couldn't say whether or not it would have been worth it. Though she supposed time would tell. If she fixed the problem with the barrels, if she managed to save everyone then maybe. . .)

And now she had Luna.

Who, despite all the horrors she'd seen - the pain that, like Raven, still nipped at her heels - was good. Or, at least, what passed for good in this shitty excuse for a world.

She wasn't spotless. Or bloodless, or whatever you wanted to call it.

But she was kind.

And she cared.

She wanted to make things better.

And somehow, despite everything, still believed that was possible.

She'd even made Raven start to believe it, too.

But if she'd lost that belief, or was starting to, what the fuck did Raven have to offer her? What could she say to inspire Luna as she had her?

This wasn't like at the dock. This wasn't convincing her that there were still people out there worth saving. This was convincing Luna that, if they did save them, there was hope that they were saving them for something better. That their future had more to offer than just this.

And Raven couldn't promise her that.

"I don't know if there's more, Luna," she murmured finally. "But. . . I do know that you found it once. Or created it. And that means there's a chance you can do it again. That we can. We just have to get through this first."

Keep fighting.

Luna considered her words for a long time, expression unreadable. That earlier plea and vulnerability had flown away, replaced by a calm that Raven found more frustrating than settling. "And if we don't get through it?"

Raven shrugged helplessly. "Then I guess none of this will matter. We won't have to worry about it."

Luna nodded slowly, eyes down as she considered her words. "Well, perhaps there's some peace in that."

And Raven didn't know why she found that statement so disconcerting but even after they'd turned off the lights and retreated to bed - her skin hot and itchy from the passing trail of Luna's fingertips as she'd murmured goodnight - the words stayed with Raven, echoing in her head as she forced her eyes to close and give into sleep.

Peace.

The term had never sounded so foreboding.

' I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream

That was just a dream

That's me in the corner

That's me in the spot-light

Losing my religion. . .'

- Losing My Religion by R.E.M.

A/N:  I also made a video for Nadia's birthday earlier this month, though some of you might have already seen it: 

Chapter Text

[Trigger warning: self-harm, canon torture, implied threat of sexual assault (very vague), implied suicidal thoughts (also very vague), past child abuse, intrusive images]

'I don't wanna drown no more

Sick of the same old people

The kind that will sell your soul

Trade it for a shining stone

Ain't nothing in this life for free

Running from the greatest evil. . .'

-  Wolves by  Rag'n'Bone Man

Luna gasped herself into consciousness, sputtering at the assault of bright light as salt stung her lips.

A blurry shape hovered over her, slowly coming into focus.

A man.

Dripping wet, eyes full of unnerving intensity as he gazed down upon her, the hulk of his frame almost enough to block out the sun.

What-

It was then she became aware of the weight on her shoulder, the hand that rested there. Realized with a start the position she was in. The familiarity of it. The danger.

Luna tensed.

How long had she been out?

Reflexively, she checked her clothes, panic rising as she grasped what was missing.

The man noticed. "I'm sorry. That coat was weighing you down far too much. I had to discard it in order to get you back to the boat as quickly as possible." His mouth creased in regret, as though he truly was sorry.

As though he cared.

Luna wouldn't be fooled. She'd fallen for such charades before.

Never again.

(the world was nothing but a nest of vipers - and you didn't trust a viper. No matter how many innocent flowers it hid beneath)

Then the weight of his words fell on Luna and her heart heaved through its next beat, heavy and painful in her chest.

That coat had been a gift from Nyko.

One of the bulkiest, most cumbersome pieces of clothing Luna had ever laid eyes on in her life - and far from fashionable - but it had gone a long way to keeping her warm in the winter.

The memory of who had given it to her had kept her even warmer.

Luna pushed the loss aside, focusing instead on the fact that at least the rest of her clothes still seemed in place. She had no discomfort anywhere besides her head and back. That went a way to reassuring her that nothing else had happened in the time she'd been unconscious.

Releasing a breath, she focused again on the man. Her 'savior'. Who in less than an instant could morph into her captor. Had most likely already done so.

Inwardly, Luna berated herself.

She'd been foolish to take her attention off him even for a moment. Had let her fear get in the way of her training.

As a child, that would have gotten her the smack of a rod, snapping against the underside of her hand - or any other unprotected area it could find.

Luna wasn't a child anymore.

In substitute, she dug her nails into her palms, feeling the give of flesh as she concentrated on the threat before her.

The man didn't look like a Fleimkepa - bore no symbol anywhere that she could see - but looks could be deceiving. Either way, it didn't matter. Fleimkepas weren't the only dangers humanity had to offer. Luna had crossed paths with more than a few people who had threatened her for reasons other than the Flame. Who wanted things from her. Things she could give them. Things she did and didn't have. Things she could do for them. The world was full of people who wished to take. And so many of them wished to take from her.

She'd gotten good at running.

Even better at fighting, though she tried not to resort to it.

Didn't like her chances of accomplishing either now, not with her limbs as heavy and boneless as they felt, fastening her to the wood beneath her back.

Luna wondered what this particular man wanted from her. And whether today would be the day that she finally failed in stopping the taking.

He was bigger than her. Older. Though in any other circumstance that obstacle wouldn't have been insurmountable. These days, everyone Luna fought was bigger and older than her.

If she could determine what clan he was from, what his fighting style might be. . .

The tattoo on his forehead. . . Luna thought she might recognize the symbol, or part of it. But she couldn't. . .

The knowledge eluded her.

She opened her mouth.

"Don't try to speak just yet. Your body's been through a lot. Give it time to rest."

And Luna, who'd always hated taking orders, for some inexplicable reason found herself obeying.

His features relaxed at this and, against her will, she noticed her body following suit. She worked to harden again, balling her hands into fists. Her icy fingers screamed at the action.

They had the chill of death in them.

So close.

The man frowned. "I won't hurt you."

Luna didn't believe him.

Seeming to sense this, he moved back, creating distance. The surface she sprawled upon rocked at the motion and her stomach turned. She pursed her lips to keep from spitting up more of the sea. It felt as though there was a tide in her gut, heaving and crashing. What would it take for it to spill out?

Luna clenched her hands again. Unbound them. Tensed her legs.

If she tried, if she gave it her all, she could fight him.

But what would be the point?

Luna was tired of fighting. Tired of everything.

If he wanted to hurt her, let him.

There was no greater pain he could give to her that she hadn't already felt. That she hadn't already given herself.

Luna exhaled, allowing her muscles to lose all strength. To fade from awareness.

"You're safe."

She was tired. And she just wanted to sleep.

"My name is Derrick."

Luna closed her eyes.

And snapped them open. A cloth suffocated her face, water pouring into her nostrils as she struggled to keep her mouth shut. Lungs burning, she lost the battle, choked, sputtered.

It brought no relief.

Instead, her lungs seemed to splinter, tear apart as the water cut across them.

She coughed in an effort to force it back.

"I cannot take it! If you stop, I'll do it. I'll do it."

The darkness was drawn away, scratchy material departing her skin. The air stung but she basked in it. A hand touched her cheek, soothing the assault.

She knew that hand.

Luna opened her eyes. "Derrick?"

And then she was in the water again, a hand griping her neck, nails biting.

Fire ripped through her chest, cutting a path she couldn't escape.

She struggled, fought, and the hand around her neck tightened.

It hurt.

Hurt as it was never supposed to.

Derrick.

Luna snapped awake, gasping for air that suddenly came in full supply - too full. She chocked, grasping her chest, which still ached with the pain of what should never have come to be.

Opening her eyes, Luna clutched at her necklace as she tried to get her breathing back under control. Darkness was all that met her. Newborn instinct had her scrabbling for the light switch. Too bright. She snapped her eyes shut, flinching.

But that momentary instant had been enough.

The walls were white.

Not daring to open her eyes again just yet, Luna focused on her body, feeling the pressure of the hard surface beneath her. Not metal. Or wood. Fabric, malleable and thick.

A bed.

She exhaled, slowly allowing her eyelids to sheathe once more.

The lab's lights glared down at her but for once Luna welcomed them.

No light like this existed in her past.

It belonged only to the present.

(a place just as terrible as any in the past)

Swallowing, Luna tapped at her chest. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. She halted a moment on the sixth, fingers stuttering before she took a breath and proceeded. Seven. Eight. Nine.

Her heart refused to calm.

Luna started the process again.

On the third try, the pounding in her chest began to slow and with it her breaths.

On the fifth, Luna let her hand fall.

She'd expected the nightmare. After the river, it had seemed almost inevitable.

She'd expected it and sequestered herself away in a bedroom on one of the lower levels of the lab, where no one would hear her scream. It wasn't shame that drove her down but consideration. Luna had no desire to disturb the island's other occupants and steal what little sleep they'd managed to grasp in the night. The walls in the mansion weren't thick enough to protect against her screams. But the only other people in the lab were Abby and Raven and there were more than enough levels to grant space between them and her.

Just as well.

Luna's throat felt raw, a sure sign that there had indeed been screams. For a heartbeat, she ached for Derrick's arms around her, the way he would smooth his hand through her hair, always so careful not to become ensnared in its thick tangles, to hurt. She could almost feel the warmth of his chest under her cheek as she timed her breathing to its every rise and fall, steadying herself - inhale by exhale.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe. The empty space around her too much. The chill in the night air bringing all loss into freezing clarity.

Luna had expected the nightmare.

She hadn't expected the dream.

She hadn't dreamt about that day for a long time. The day Derrick had saved her. The day that had started it all.

Her new life.

Luna wished to the spirits she hadn't. Wished even more the dream hadn't been followed so quickly by the day he'd tried to save her for a second time, and only ended up hurting her instead.

The day she'd had to hurt him. Unforgivably.

Irrevocably.

All because he'd never been able to stand the sight of her in pain.

( 'I cannot take it!')

All because he'd loved her too much.

Too selflessly.

( 'If you stop, I'll do it.')

The way she couldn't love her brother.

Luna yanked the covers off. There would be no more sleeping tonight.

The hallways of the lab were garishly lit as always and she squinted against the brightness, making her way towards the lift. Her finger was already pressing the number for Raven's floor before she'd even made the decision. Luna hesitated, hovering over the STOP button.

She didn't want to disturb her.

But there was no reason she had to.

If Raven was awake, she hopefully wouldn't mind the company - and Luna could make sure the mechanic wasn't working herself into an early grave (well, any more than usual). If she was asleep, then Luna would leave her be. Perhaps go outside and get some fresh air. The chill of the night didn't scare her. It was no less unwelcoming than the walls of Bekka Pramheda's lab.

Decided, she let the lift take her up.

Luna was surprised - but not unpleasantly so - to find Raven asleep in her room, rather than hard at work in the lab. Perhaps the day had managed to exhaust her enough that even she hadn't been able to resist the call of slumber.

She leant against the doorway, watching her now - and breathed, timing herself to the steady rise and fall of Raven's chest. It was always a comfort to see that she still breathed. That A.L.I.E. hadn't taken this one person from her yet, not like she had all the others.

Luna trailed a finger over the edges of her necklace. Breathed.

She knew Raven had almost opened up to her last night about her health - or lack thereof. Her impending death sentence. Luna wished she had. If only so then she would finally have leave to comfort her. Support her. Or at the very least attempt to.

Give Raven an ear to listen. If she needed it.

But Luna wouldn't force her to talk about that particular vulnerability before she was ready. There was a reason Raven hadn't told her yet and she would respect that.

Just as Raven had respected her silence about the river. Which she knew had to be difficult, given how curious the mechanic was by nature. Her desire to pick everything apart. Just as long as the thing being picked apart wasn't her.

Luna usually didn't mind. It was nice to talk to Raven, to unearth the pieces of her past with someone who had no frame of reference for their existence. Who appeared to share a similar dismay for all Luna's people had done, continued to do.

That dismay was refreshing.

Validating.

Almost like a balm.

A part of Luna felt like she had been searching for it all her life - that soothing relief - though she'd never known. Never realized.

But the river. . .

Derrick.

Luna couldn't talk about it. Not yet.

Wasn't certain she wouldn't shatter with the words. The proof they lent to all that had happened.

Derrick.

Luna wondered if the same horror she'd felt in the instant he had forced her under the water had been shared by her brother. Perhaps that was the hardest thing of all to come to terms with. That question.

It seeped into the scar of Sol's death, bled through the hardened skin, urged it to open, to split apart.

It might not have been successful if Luna didn't now have the memory of driving a knife into the chest of yet another person she loved. The enduring sensation of their life, cut short by her own hand.

How did you forgive yourself for doing the same thing twice?

Once was a mistake. Horrific. Uncorrectable. But a mistake.

Twice was proof of character. Of heart.

Twice was evidence that there could be a third time. A fourth time. An infinite number of times.

That the ability to kill what she loved had never left her.

Would never leave her.

For an instant, she felt hard leather in her hand, heard the guttural choke and gasp as all air was cut off, saw the sea of blood spurting out-

Luna closed her eyes and waited for the horror to pass.

When she opened them again, Raven was sleeping soundly. Unblemished. Unharmed.

Not a single drop of red in sight.

She was fine.

(Luna hadn't hurt her)

She was fine.

For the moment. . . she was fine.

Luna closed her eyes, inhaling.

One, two. . .

Allowed the air to filter out of her lungs on the ninth beat of her heart.

No. She wouldn't make Raven talk about it. If silence was what made her comfortable then Luna wouldn't tamper with it. Wouldn't crack the seal of her defenses. Force her to bleed out. Raven was the one who was dying and it was her comfort that mattered most.

Acknowledging this didn't make Luna feel any better, though. Or lessen the feeling of powerlessness that surrounded her. It was a feeling she was learning to get used to once again. Hated the familiarity of it.

Her only power at the moment existed in her blood. What she could do with it. What she chose to do with it.

Giving it, not giving it.

Luna touched the inside of her elbow, ignoring the pain this elicited. It was tender tonight. Slightly itchy. Likely a consequence of the day, the physical exhaustion and emotional upset. Stress created pain, heightened it. She knew that from experience.

Frowning, Luna dropped her hand.

She hated having her blood taken. Seeing it. Being reminded of it.

Of what she was.

(to herself and to others)

But that was her choice.

And there was power in that.

Enough to make the process slightly more bearable.

Still, Luna wasn't sure how long she could keep this up. She knew she was walking a dangerous line in regards to her mind. That every day she was pushing herself closer to that edge, trusting that her feet wouldn't slip.

(or perhaps simply praying)

The nightmares, which had started to grow frequent again after Derrick's death - Luna closed her eyes - murder, had become even worse since arriving at Arkadia. The death of her clan combined with the constant reminder of her blood tormented her. She knew that it would continue to do so until she was able to leave the island, leave this aspect of herself behind.

(she needed to leave)

But she didn't want to think about that future, not yet. As much as Luna wanted to escape the island, she knew that if she did so, it could only ever be alone. It could only ever be without Raven. Her one living tether to the world.

Raven, who made breathing easy.

Desirable, even.

Rather than a necessity to be endured.

Luna didn't know just how much time they had left before that 'code' - whatever it was - killed her, but she knew it couldn't be long. Knew that Raven was unlikely to live past Praimfaya, whether she had nightblood in her veins or not.

And if Luna left before Praimfaya - if she gave in to her urge to run . . . Raven would not follow. She would not abandon her people, those who still needed her.

After all, she would not even do so to save her life. Rest, when rest was what she needed most.

It was a fact Luna couldn't turn from. Could only accept.

So she did.

(there was so much she could only accept)

Luna stayed, because she didn't want to be alone.

She stayed because Raven had put down the gun.

And she stayed because a part of her still believed. . .

Still believed in people.

Still believed in the goodness she'd found in her clan. In Derrick. In Adria. In Nyko.

In Raven.

A part of her still believed.

And she'd decided that day on the dock that she wasn't ready to let that part go. Let her heart go.

Not yet.

It had taken her so long to find it again. After her Conclave. To wrestle it back from the darkness and stitch it into the framework of her being.

One day it might tear itself free.

But not today.

Luna left her vigil before dawn. Slipping into the main lab and perching herself up on the table, waiting for the day to begin.

Raven came upon her thirty minutes later, trying and failing to find peace in her early meditations. Luna tried not to think about how that peace came a little easier once she stepped into the room.

It only meant it would be harder to find once she left it.

'Keep the wolves from the door

I hear them scratching like I don't know better

Won't you keep the wolves from the door

It won't be long before I cave in and open up the-'

-  Wolves by  Rag'n'Bone Man

Pain drew her back into consciousness.

Luna blinked, weakly at first, then more rapidly as she struggled to clear her vision. The sun shone bright, hot. It hovered in its previous position, glaring down in burning judgment.

Luna suspected that either very little time had passed since she'd last opened her eyes - or far too much had.

The stinging on her scalp brought her attention to the sensation of hot stickiness clinging to her skin. She hadn't felt it the first time she woke. Hadn't felt much of anything. But now. . .

Luna stiffened.

The feeling was familiar. She knew what it was. What it meant.

What it had revealed her to be.

Her back hurt as well. As though a thousand stones had scraped it raw, and there, too, she could feel the trickle of hot blood.

Black blood.

Luna closed her eyes, understanding then that her fate had been sealed.

This man may not be a Fleimkepa but it would still be his duty to deliver her to them.

It was over.

Three years. . . and it was over.

There might have been relief in the fact, in the realization that she could finally stop running, if her mind wasn't full of all the fates that might now await her in Polis.

"You're bleeding fairly heavily." Luna's eyes snapped open at the sound of her captor's voice. He was scrutinizing her to an uncomfortable degree, an emotion almost like concern in his eyes - but she knew that concern could only be for losing the prized fish he'd just caught. "I need to tend to that. If you'll let me."

If possible, Luna grew even more rigid.

The frown on his face suggested he hadn't missed the tell. She was being too open, giving too much away. "I don't know what you think my intentions are, but I swear I wish only to help. You're safe. I promise."

Someone else had said that to her once.

He'd lied.

Luna cleared her throat. Coughed. "Nightblood."

The word felt like grit against her tongue. Harsh and unforgiving.

But perhaps that was the salt that had drowned it.

"Yes," he said distractedly, searching for something beside him. "You'll forgive me if I don't stand on ceremony. I don't answer to Polis or its Commander."

Luna closed her eyes. Was it too good to be true?

Yes.

Always yes.

"Nomad?" She couldn't see any obvious mutations but that didn't necessarily mean there weren't any, or that he hadn't found himself without a clan for some other reason.

(her gut twisted in memory, hands fisting at her sides as her heart started to race.

There were very few things that could warrant exile.

And Luna knew them all)

The man - she refused to use his name - considered the word for a moment. "Yes, that fits. But I'm afraid if you wish to return to the Capital, you'll have to find someone else to help you - I don't travel that far inland."

Luna shook her head rapidly, cringing as her vision went momentarily black, skull pounding. "No."

"Shh. . . easy." A hand landed on her arm. She flinched away, coughed. Felt the sea inside her build, threatening to spill forth. "We'll talk about it later. Whatever you wish to do, I'll assist you as far as I can. For now, I just want to help you heal. Will you let me?"

No.

She had no wish to heal. And no wish to let this man aid her in doing so.

But her wishes rarely mattered.

For now, he seemed to be trustworthy, yes. But appearances were deceiving. Luna had accepted help and been bitten for it in the past.

Fool me once. . .

She had nowhere to go, though. And no strength to get there.

(or will)