Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 On a glorious summer afternoon at the age of seventeen, Clarke found herself planning her future and contemplating where to attend college. She yearned to take her first self-conscious steps into adulthood with her best friend and secret crush, Alexandra, or Lexa, as she preferred to be called. Their dreams and aspirations have always been intertwined like the roots of an old tree.

 The girls grew up together after Lexa moved into Clarke's neighborhood at the age of five. They were as thick as thieves, always finding their way back to each other no matter the falling-outs or awkward crushes that occurred.

Now seventeen, Clarke was often protected by Lexa, who was a year older. The girl, now a young woman, had grown tall and strong. Standing at 5'3", Clarke was dwarfed by Lexa, who towered above her at 5'10". This was thanks to their father’s Italian heritage. Lexa had an athletic build that was not only toned but also showcased her hard-earned muscles. She was even offered a full-ride soccer scholarship at Stanford.

Clarke, wanting to be a doctor like her mother, specifically PEDS applied to all kinds of schools. Stanford, University of Michigan, Duke, University of Columbia, etc. but secretly hoping she’d go to Stanford to be with Lexa.

With these thoughts in their minds right after graduation, the girls wanted to enjoy a day to themselves. So they spent the day near their local pond. At the pond, they shared a playful moment together. Lexa scooped up Clarke suddenly, much to her surprise. "Lexa!" Clarke shrieked and giggled. "Don't throw me in!" 

Ignoring her friend's protest, Lexa threw her into the refreshing water with a playful laugh, drizzling herself in the process.
With her heart pounding in her chest, Clarke rose to the surface, gasping and spattering. 

"Lexa!"

She managed to breathe out before splashing her friend with all the force she could. Lexa, completely unperturbed by the attacks, laughed and swam graciously around her spluttering friend, watching her with twinkling eyes.

"But you look so cute when you are wet." 

She teased Clarke, her tone coated with a hidden double meaning that wasn't unseen by Clarke.

"I’m so going to get you for that."

The blonde lunged at Lexa to playfully hold her down. Lexa dodged every move Clarke made. A pout came across Clarke's face.

"No fair!" she whined out.

Taking mercy on her, Lexa let Clarke catch her, and they wrestled in the water. Coming up together at one point, faces mere inches from each other, Lexa's eyes flickered to Clarke's lips. Her heart was pounding harder than ever. Gathering all her courage, she captured Clarke's lips in a quick yet passionate kiss.

The world was still around them except for frogs croaking near them. Clark's blue eyes widened minutely and deepened the kiss as her friend held her in the water.

Pulling away Lexa whispered reverently, as if not to ruin the moment 

"I’ve wanted to do that since middle school."

Blush bloomed across Clarke's face.

"Why didn’t you?"

Lexa shrugged 

"Ya know, life and I was still figuring out my sexuality, plus I thought you liked that little twig."

"who"!   Clarke looked scandalized. " Bellamy"

Lexa nodded 

"Oh, Lex," she scolded with love, "he’s more of an annoyance. I just didn’t want to seem mean, so he took that as flirting." "Trust me, I was looking at someone who actually knows me."

Kissing Lexa's nose Clarke started to swim to the dock.

With a dopey grin plastering her features, the brunette took a second to catch up to her friend.

Drying off, the girls ate their lunch.

"Wait, what are we?" Lexa asked

Clarke grasped the other girl's hand 

"Were Clarke and Lexa, and you’re my girlfriend," she said with a lilt of questioning in her voice.

Lexa grinned, dimples forming as she attacked the other girl with little kisses.

"Okay okay"

Fighting off her attack of love, Clarke squirmed, "I love you too."

___________________________________________________________________

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Lexa walked Clarke home. With newfound feelings, one could detect a skip in their step. The girls talked about anything and everything. Lexa's family was vacationing in Greece for a few weeks, but she promised to send Clarke postcards. Clarke couldn’t wait to see the pictures. As a girl who has only seen America, she wanted to be more traveled as she got older. Stopping where their streets intersected, Lexa dropped Clarke off as her house was a block in the other direction. Kissing her forehead, the taller girl ordered Clarke.

"Call me when you get home so I know you’re safe." 

"Will do,"  The blonde waved to her new love, turned, and made her way home.

Years later, Lexa would look back on that day, regret filling her heart as she wished she had walked Clarke all the way home. Instead, with promises left unfulfilled and kisses stolen in the heat of the moment, all that was left was the bitter taste of "what could have been" and a heartache that refused to mend. 

Clarke, almost to her house, suddenly started feeling faint. She felt her legs go numb and slowly collapse to the ground.

"Lexx," the words came out garbled, and then blackness surrounded her.

The call never came.

_______________________________________________________________________

Blue eyes adjusted to their surroundings.

"Mom, Dad," the voice cried out in question.

Looking around, Clarke took in her surroundings. Everything was white too white share for the little bookshelf with some books. A large white mirror. A door with a slot and a small window, which she looked out of. The window only gave sight to a long hallway, also brightly lit. There was a smaller room, which Clarke figured was a restroom.

"Okay, this isn’t funny," The words shook coming out of her mouth. No one responded. Banging on the door caused nothing to happen. Clarke even attempted to break the mirror, but the "glass" did not shatter but indent the reform to how it was without any signs of physical trauma. Freaking out, Clarke hugged her knees. The empty echo of her sobs left her feeling violated by the silence.

Finally, time must have passed when a disembodied voice announced

"Experiment 645 has been acquired," the intercom cut short.

Dread filled the young girl's heart. A lighthearted day turned into a nightmare. Clarke curled up on the small bed, sobbing.

Chapter Text

Date unknown

What was time? For Clarke, there was no indication except meals and occasional horrific visits. She didn’t know how long she had been here. Her thoughts never left home. Her mom, her dad, Lexa, and her dog Bentley, who was a 3-year-old great Pyrenees German shepherd mix Was he even three anymore? Was she still 17? The thoughts swirled around her mind. 

The creatures that took her had given her a sort of drawing utensil, which she used fervently. It seemed to never run out of ink. The walls are where she put her creations. Each stroke was a message to the ones she hoped sought her, each curve an attempt to recreate what used to be familiar.

On one such painstakingly etched day, she was trying to capture the likeness of her dog, Bentley. Engrossed in her sketching, she didn’t notice a creature enter her pod. Finally feeling a presence behind her, Clarke whirled around, standing up on shaky legs. Standing tall before her was an alien of striking iridescence with cavernous, curious gray eyes.

"Who are you?"

Clarke couldn’t help but question, fear seeping through her pores as she made herself small against her wall, haunted by her previous encounter that had left a cruel reminder on her arm, a large bruise that marred her otherwise fair skin 

They both stared at each other.

"Iron," the creature had eerily let out.

"Wait, you know eng-" 

Before Clarke could even end the sentence, a burning injection flowed through her that crippled her strength. Disoriented and helpless, she was subjected to an advanced-looking locking mechanism around her limbs, after which the creature hauled her limp body out of the room.

They took her to a cold, sterile room. An overwhelming sense of terror rippled through every vein as she realized her legs were locked in stirrups—a familiar scene repurposed into a nightmare. She screamed in vain at the other beings around her. They kept poking and prodding her, paying no mind to her screams. They fell on deaf ears. "Wait, do they even have ears?" The thought ran through the girl's mind. 

One creature who was between her legs doing God knows what lifted up a bloodied glove to show another creature. They had numbed her from the waist down, so she felt nothing. The irony wasn't lost on Clarke; she thought bitterly of the ridiculous situation she had found herself in. Gods or aliens, none could spare girls from the relentless cycle of nature—the menstrual period.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she groaned out the words. The creatures had abandoned her, strapped to the exam table. Clarke's breathing was shaky, and she just wanted to return to her room. The only sanctuary that this ordeal gave her Lowering from the ceiling, a container of a glowing yellow liquid was loaded into a syringe.

"No no no no, please GAAAH." Screaming and crying for her mother, Clarke was injected with the yellow liquid, which set her organs ablaze. She felt she was burning from the inside out. Excruciating pain, but not enough to gift her the blessing of passing out. Her screams echoed throughout the room.

____________________________________________________________________________

1998

That warm summer evening in 1992, was an evening Abby Griffin will never forget. Receiving a phone call that hung in her ears like an ominous echo. Lexa sounded anxious and uneasy 

"I'm calling because I dropped Clarke off about an hour ago and she hasn't called." "Mrs. Griffin, has she gotten home safe?" she questioned.

"That isn't funny, Lexa." "Clarke isn't home."

Abby replied, her heart pounding against her chest.
"Are you sure?" Lexa stood stunned and confused on the other end of the phone.
"Lexa, where is my daughter?" 

The seriousness in Abby's voice was palpable.
That evening, instead of the usual family dinner, a search commenced. Throughout the small town, neighbors, classmates, and even strangers, rallied together in a desperate search, combing every inch of the neighboring woods and parks for any sign of Clarke.

There was a time when the police and the community pointed their fingers at the last person to see Clarke. 

Lexa

Enduring painful interrogations, Lexa remained resolute in her innocence and her plight to find her best friend.
As weeks turned into months, the hope in everyone's hearts started to dwindle. Six years had passed, and Clarke's parents had hired several private investigators, but every single one hit a dead end. Maxing out multiple credit cards, the parents were desperate to find their daughter. 

For a woman with a scientific background, having no trace, no real answer on where Clarke went was crushing. Many a night, Abby spends them clinging to her husband, soaking his shirt in tears. 

"I swear I can feel her, Jake." 

Mumbling into his chest, she confessed her beliefs.

Every holiday season felt like a cruel parody of joy. Lexa, off to college, lived a life that felt hollow. Every victory, every triumph seemed empty without her bright-eyed best friend to cheer her on. Lexa would visit the Griffins with Abby having tearful sessions reminiscing about Clarke, their heartache resonating in the silence.
Bentley, the family dog, frequented Clarke's bedroom, scratching on her door. His silent whimpers echoed the family's pain.
 

But life, as it so often does, moves on. Friends went to college. graduated and got married. Yet Abby remained steadfast that her daughter was out there.

Chapter Text

Date unknown
Lately, Clarke has noticed the aliens taking her to a special room to eat. She knew they weren’t feeding her out of kindness, but for some future purpose. Some of the foods she recognized were apple pie, pancit, meatloaf, labskaus, chicken, sauerkraut, and more. The "effort" caused Clarke to roll her eyes.
"Not them trying to include different cultures."
If she were in a different situation, the variety would be appreciated, but now, in all honesty, Clarke did not give a flying fuck. An iridescent being led her to a table laden with a curious mix of alien edibles. not the fun kind. Globs consisted of multicolored goo and jello, their consistencies ranging from gelatinous to custard-like. A tray was presented to her with these colored foods.

Staring down at the plate, Clarke’s face contorted in a mix of disgust and confusion.
"You’ve got to be kidding me,"
She muttered under her breath. Swiftly, she pushed her plate away but instantly regretted it as an alarm blared out, rattling her senses.
Yanked off her feet and pinned to her back by unseen forces, before she could even begin to protest, a tube was inserted roughly into her mouth, a guard preventing her from ripping it out.
A mechanical voice garbled overhead,
"Experiment 645: Refusing the food causes us to force-feed you." "A healthy caloric intake is needed for what we have in store for you." "We will ensure that one way or another, voluntarily or by force," "Today, you opted for force." "Next time, do not rely on your emotions alone."

Clarke struggled in protest, the tube vibrating as the gray goop slid down its length. "I’m sorry, please..." she gasped helplessly. But her pleas fell on deaf ears, muffled by the tube trapping her tongue in a strange position. Hot tears stung her eyes and leaked down her face - tears of anger, tears of fear, and tears of a desperate longing for home. "Fuck you, fuck you!" those words screamed out in her head.

With her eyes closed tightly, she braced herself against the warm, sickly sweet taste filling her mouth. It was something nutritious that the aliens had clearly concocted especially for her. She endured the hours that followed, suffocating and choking back revulsion while gasping for much-needed air through her nostrils.

When the tube was finally extracted, Clarke curled up, coughing and crying. The mechanical voice broke her solitude,
"Return Experiment 645 to her pod," it commanded. Moments later, she was plunged into darkness.

Awakening in her pod again, tear tracks still fresh on her cheeks, Clarke stumbled into the tiny bathroom provided to her. She scrubbed her teeth raw, trying to purge the lingering taste of the goop. Staring at her reflection, she screamed,
"Why me? I didn’t do anything to you! "I just want to go home!"

Fresh tears flowed freely down her face. These creatures had a plan for her; she just didn’t know what
"Probably fattening me up to sacrifice to some beast," she thought, her breath hitching. With the worst of her so-called day hopefully over, Clarke threw herself into sketching on her walls again.

Chapter Text

Date unknown for Clarke
2003 for Lexa

Eleven years, Eleven long years since Clarke vanished from her home that summer evening.
Her best friend, Lexa, now a woman, had graduated college. As Lexa navigated her graduation ceremony, Abby Griffin, Clarke's mother, pulled her into a comforting hug. They both exchanged a sorrowful smile, their eyes reflecting a cocktail of emotions: pride, pain, loss, and hidden hope. "Clarke would be so proud," Abby whispered, trying to sound strong for both Lexa and herself.

Lexa threw herself into her work, gaining her degree in hospital administration—a career not identical but akin to Clark's interest in the medical field. It was an unexplainable feeling, but working in that field made her feel close to her friend.
As the years waned, Lexa had many suitors who vied for her attention, but Lexa rebuffed each one, citing work as being more important. Even her mother, bewildered by Lexa's lack of interest, finally questioned her about it.

"None of them are Clarke,"

Lexa responded, her voice barely a hoarse whisper, the words echoing the emptiness in her heart. Hearing her daughter's mournful confession, Lexa’s mother kissed her daughter's forehead.

"She was more to you than your friend, wasn’t she?"

The question was innocent yet heavy in meaning, Lexa only nodded

"Oh, my sweet girl."

Lexa's mother, Daenerys, cradled her daughter as she cried. Almost feeling guilty, as she knew Abby has not been afforded the same action as she is doing right now for years.
___________________________________________________________________
"Hey, Lexa."

Lexa turned to see her friend, Anya.

"Are you going to come to the company party?" the taller girl asked.

"Nah, I've gotta spend a night with hamburger"

"He’s your cat, Lexa," Anya said with a groan.

"He gets lonely!" Lexa rushed out indignantly.

"Mmhmm, well, we'll be at 5543 Iron Drive Lane, the new pub."

Lexa thanked her friend but already decided she’d be spending the night with hamburger. To say she was in a sorry state late into the night is not an exaggeration.
Stumbling out on her patio after drowning herself in liquor to numb her pain, Lexa found herself standing under a blanket of twinkling stars.

"Where is she?"

Anguished cries lifted into the cosmic void, her despair dissolving into the quiet chill of the breeze. Little did she realize that her anguished plea was being directed at the very cosmos that cradled Clarke.
____________________________________________________________________________
Clarke, having spent years in her pod wherever she was but not knowing, was galaxies away from the anguished cries that escaped her friend.
Once again, she found herself strapped to a table with only her modesty covered. She shivered not just because she was cold but because of anxiety. Fear and bitterness swirled within her wide eyes as unfamiliar devices skimmed over her bruised skin, taking vial after vial of her blood for obscure purposes.
Clarke made a promise to herself:

"If I ever return home, I'm never traveling again."

Relying on her memories of home was the tether holding her sanity together in these unspeakable circumstances.

Her body was mechanically adjusted into an upright sitting position. The disembodied voice spoke.

"Experiment 645 is ready."

Fear jolted through Clarke as an ominous pill was placed before her. Hesitant but cornered, she resigned herself to her fate, swallowing the pill, anticipating the unknown. As the edges of her consciousness faded, eerie cheers echoed in the sterile room.
Unknowingly, the creatures were celebrating a milestone that would be revealed to Clarke in time.

Chapter Text

Date unknown

In the depths of her alien pod, Clarke battled nausea like never before. Her only relief was the cold floor of her pod. Sometimes she would wake up to the aliens pumping a liquid into her skin that seemed to resolve her nausea.

Keeping food down was a nightmare. Every time she vomited, the aliens forced her to consume food.

"Your caloric intake is of the utmost importance to use experiment 645" the disembodied voice announced as Clarke gulped down her post-vomit meal. Clarke could only roll her eyes as she choked down the food.

Throughout her time Clarke found a peculiar solitude in her books. Each page unfurled a world beyond the stark white walls that confined her. Tonight’s reading was interrupted by the sudden appearance of one of the creatures. Its gangly form, seen against the loneliness of her space-bound prison, sent shivers piercing deep into her bones.

The alien once again clamped her wrists with some sort of locking mechanism. Its eyes, if that's what they were, shone with an otherworldly coldness. The alien gestured, a silent but clear indication for Clarke to follow. She knew better than to resist, and so she obediently marched on, the strange being leading her down an endless winding pathway.

A sudden observation window partitioned their journey, revealing the vast canvas of space. Stars littered the black sea, their bright colors bursting against the dark background, looking like some cosmic art master’s unfinished masterpiece. Clarke was unwittingly captured by the sheer magnificence of the view, her breath hitching in her throat.

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, each drop representing a fragment of longing for home. The alien paused, seemingly permitting Clarke to take in the view. Amidst such beauty, there was a bitter realization.

"I'm really alone,"

She whispered to the dark abyss.

The alien beckoned her to follow, leading the girl to a new pod.
This new space was similar to her old pod, with signature white walls, but it contained a larger bed. The table across was stacked with art supplies and a plethora of books. Even the bathroom was upgraded, for they had granted her a jacuzzi.
 

As her hands were released, the alien turned to her, uttering a single strained word, "Like." It seemed to be trying to form a peculiar curvature on its face that Clarke could only guess was supposed to be a smile. 

"Goddamn, that's horrifying." 

Clarke studied the creature, her voice laced with suspicion. "What did little captive me do to deserve this?" "Up until now, you haven't shown an ounce of care."

Exploring the room, she found the wardrobe still quite scant but with a few more articles than what she had been allowed
 

"Wow, two more pieces of clothing, how grand." 

The alien viewed her with what she could only interpret as confusion, garbled out 

"Not good."

Clarke grumbled out a sardonic "Just peachy."

Unfurling a long tentacle-like arm, the alien extended a cup of pills toward her, demanding 

"Eat".

With a sigh of resignation, Clarke swallowed the pills, chasing them down with her anger. 

"There, does that make you and your little creepy friends happy?" "Now, unless you plan to probe me some more, get out." 

She spat it out, her voice more bark than bite.
The alien, appearing to ponder her words, left the room, leaving Clarke alone in her upgraded pod. As she sank into the remarkable softness of the bed, a disembodied voice solemnly announced,

"Experiment 645 is ready for phase two."

The haunting announcement hung heavy in the air as Clarke braced herself for the unknown.

Chapter Text

2004

As the years prolonged, Abby, filled with stubborn resilience, refused to give up on finding her daughter. Yet the relentless passage of time failed to extinguish the beacon of a mother's desperate hope.
Abby had always clung romantically to the belief that love could move mountains; now, her daughter's disappearance had erected a mountain she was determined to dismantle, rock by rock, stone by stone.

The police had declared her daughter's case a cold one. With no new clues for years, they stopped their search. Abby never stopped, though. Whispers of the mother’s slowly unraveling sanity floated around the community. The world had given up on Clarke, but she hadn't - she couldn't.

Abby and Jake launched a seemingly fruitless pursuit across the states, a road trip borne not out of adventure but desperation. They plastered posters everywhere. Vegas, Boise, Seattle, DC, Boston, and all the little towns in between. Posters etched with Clarke's smiling face. Abby stood defiant against the public's mocking gusts, anchored by a conviction that her daughter was out there.

Eventually, Jake Abby's faithfully stoic husband was worn ragged by the ordeal. One night, holding his wife, he whispered, "Abby, my love, we may have to consider the worse; Clarke may be dead." The words hung heavy in the air, a painful reality they both shied away from.
Abby jerked out of his comforting embrace, her eyes a stormy sea of disbelief. 

"So, you're just giving up on her?"

 Jake found himself staring into the depths of her aching soul, her grief echoing his own.

"Abby," he sighed,

"It's been years; I’m exhausted from hope." "I miss her, to love." 

Clarke had been her father's little shadow as a young girl.

Abby collapsed back into her husband's arms, muffled sobs staining his shirt. The world may have forgotten their golden-haired girl, but she never would.

Each night, Abby would flick on the porch light. To the casual observer, it was a simple house light. But to Abby, it was a beacon, a guide for her lost daughter to trace her path home. She left it alight, casting a warm glow against the merciless darkness, a symbol of her unwavering faith in Clarke's return.

Chapter Text

Unknown date

Clarke had started to make a slight routine for herself. Usually, after getting poked and prodded, she would have a long bath in the jacuzzi. After that the aliens would deliver some type of food, and she’d spend the rest of the time reading. A simple routine, but it helped her not fall into insanity.

Sometimes, when being led through the labyrinth of hallways, she would catch a glimpse of these beings commiserating together. Looking rather joyous

"It must be a holiday for them."

 The thought brought her another wave of sadness, thinking of the missed holidays. "Or maybe barely a minute has passed at home." She wondered how time went by here.

The jacuzzi became a refuge for Clarke. After lying in it for hours, the water stayed hot, and Clarke never emerged pruney.

This one time her daily jaunt in the jacuzzi brought a discovery. Barefoot, she padded across her quasi-luxurious prison, her damp hair trailing droplets across the cool floor. As she passed a mirror, she paused.
The gaze of her seventeen-year-old self returned to meet her own; it bore little resemblance to the age she felt inside. Physically, she looked the same, but mentally... Her brain held hours upon hours of memories of torture. Hours of boredom. Mistreatment from the aliens, and she still held resilience. Physically though, Clarke still felt she looked the same as when she disappeared. Her brows arched over her wide, bright blue eyes, the same pert nose, the same little dimple on her chin, and the same stomach. 

Suddenly, her gaze dropped, a cold foreboding washed over her. Feeling as though she was pulled to the mirror, she squinted at her belly, her heart pounding ominously. 

 It shouldn’t be anything alarming. She was mildly curvaceous—never skinny—but as she looked closer, the sudden shock of a different form startled her. A small bulge almost imperceptible, but there.

"No, no, no!"

 Panic sliced through Clarke's pretense of calm, and the towel clutched in her grip fell like a defeated banner. Her palms grazed over her stomach, prodding, pulling at the skin, analyzing, wanting to be proven wrong.

Focusing on herself deeper, her normally pale breasts had a prominent spider web of veins across them. Bright blue, they stood against her skin. She stumbled back onto the bed, crimson blood draining from her face. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her.

Clutching the blankets, Clarke's mind slipped into hysteric spirals. An unwanted possibility gnawing at the corner of her thoughts. Some creature must have noticed the human spiraling because a tiny robot delivered a cup of hot chocolate to her pod. This made tears well up in her eyes even faster. 

Her mother would make her hot chocolate when she was stressed or scared. The distant memory seemed miles away. 

"You're fine, Clarke," she chided. 

"They haven’t done anything, you're still you."

The cocoa was piping hot, inviting. Clinging to the cup like a lifeline, though devoid of love, Clarke fought the fears of her mind. She closed her eyes, praying against hope. The beings wouldn’t take her for more experiments today.

Alone in her pod, Clarke tried to subdue the ticking time bomb of reality—what if she had become an unwilling participant in an unknown life's genesis?

Chapter Text

Date unknown. 

Clarke marked her days with the sessions. The aliens now dimmed her pod. She guessed it was supposed to simulate the night

"Experiment 645, your rest is of the utmost importance," the disembodied voice announced.

So those were Clark's days. Pod bright for who knows how long, then dim to simulate night.

"So now you care about me." The words sarcastic

Water became Clarke's only solace. The ripples obscuring her changing shape. Her body had begun to soften. Her cheeks, already full, had a rosy hue. Any hard angles she had left on her body became soft curves. Her golden hair seemed shinier and thicker, and her nipples had even darkened. Her insatiable hunger was only satisfied by the varied foods given to her by the aliens. ranging from fruits of indescribable taste to strange, tiny creatures that squirmed and jiggled. Each meal ended with a cup of pills. The bulge in her abdomen began to grow: a golf ball's roundness turned into a tennis ball, then into a softball, and now it resembled the size of a honeydew. 

Betrayed by her body, her heart knew what her mind refused to admit—that the changes denoted a type of violation she had hoped was only confined to dystopian fiction. She bore the mark of conception.

"Who am I kidding?" Clarke laughed at herself disparagingly. My Life is a dystopian fiction novel.

In these "simulated days," Clarke yearned with every fiber of her being for her mother, whose voice was now a fading echo in her torment. Her thoughts became a torment, so much so that Clarke made a desperate attempt to end her life.

Of course, her plans were foiled. Once again waking up strapped to another metallic table, time-blind and disoriented, Clarke found herself surrounded by a blur of their strange tools and instruments. She winced as they prodded her belly. Noticing an unfamiliar monitor displaying a fluttering grainy echo with a rhythmic "woosh woosh" filled the sterile room 

Clarke's glassy blue eyes caught sight of a monitor that one of her alien tormentors had left carelessly angled toward her. There, in the speckled void of the grainy screen, was the unmistakable outline of a tiny head. Letting hot tears fall, her wet cheeks were the canvas for rivulets of teardrops. But her heaving sobs were quiet, she had long ago learned that cries for help had little use. soft sobs echoing through the chamber. She cried for time lost, for her last love, Lexa, for a family she missed, for her body desecrated by a life she was forced to incubate, for a life formed in utter violation.

"I want my mom," Clarke sobbed over and over.

___________________________________________________________________

Millions of miles away, in a house nestled in a small town called Arcadia, a woman named Abby jolted out of her sleep, her heart aching. 

This wasn’t her normal heartache of missing her daughter; this was something else.

Abby clutched her chest and croaked out "Clarke."

Who knew a mother could feel her child calling for her galaxies away?

Chapter Text

  "Clarke,"

She whispered into the cold silence of her bedroom. Clarke, her daughter. The child she had not seen for years vanished into the unfathomable expanses of space. Yet Abby held strong to her belief that Clarke was alive.
Next to her, Jake stirred and opened his eyes to see his wife trembling.

"Abby," 

He breathed, his voice filled with worry and wretched compassion. His voice wavered with agony, the very emotion Abby could feel throbbing through their connection. As their fingers intertwined, he could feel her pulse racing.

"I can feel her," she breathed out.

Their missing daughter was a hard topic that usually brought out fighting words between the two. His wife’s refusal to accept their daughter's disappearance

"Don't patronize me, Jake,"

Abby said through gritted teeth. Her eyes met his, shimmering in the dim light that filtered into their room. Her grief was raw, yet there was unbroken resolve reflecting back at him. "She's out there and she needs me."

Knowing that going against his wife while she was so passionate was useless, he brought his wife back to lie down.
 

"Then send a message to her, my love." "Tell her we're still fighting for her."

Abby sank back into unconsciousness, allowing her mind to drift away, sending waves of peace and love toward her missing child. In this sea of darkness and uncertainty, she cast off these tiny islands of hope, a lifeline to her lost daughter.

Unbeknownst to Abby and Jake, millions of light-years away, the laws of time bending and warping. Clarke sat huddled in a white pod surrounded by blankets. Her hands caressed her swollen belly, feeling the delicate fluttering of the alien life within. Her heart was pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation. Even so, a sudden wave of tranquility washed over her. The nightmares and struggles that she had faced retreated to the backseat of her mind as an unfamiliar calmness took over.

Maybe it was the rhythm of her child's heartbeat echoing in her ears, or maybe it was the echo of her mother's love reaching across galaxies to find her, but Clarke started to sing. The words of a lullaby that Abby used to sing to her as a child flowed out, a tender melody in a foreign world. Bringing peace to both mother and child.

"I love you, Mom," Clarke whispered into the simulated night's air.

____________________________________________________________________________

In the eerie, chilling isolation of their ship, aliens wheeled Clarke into an unordinary examination room. It was an unexpected change of scenery—a room that bore an uncanny resemblance to a quintessential doctor's office rather than the usual cold, sterile chambers Clarke had come to associate with these beings. 

Seated on the examination bench, her burgeoning pregnant belly took up most of her lap, becoming the center of her universe and theirs.
As she cautiously scanned her surroundings, apprehension etched in every angle of her face, an alien entered – the only one who had thus far possessed the audacity to communicate with the captive human. Clarke's eyes kindled to life, a desperate spark of hope flickering in her gaze.
"Hey!" she greeted, her lips curving into the closest semblance of a smile she could muster. The alien appeared taken aback, unaccustomed to the gestures of their human subject. As it processed her greeting, an awkward, warbled "Hi" from some unseen organ, Chuckling gently, Clarke goaded, 

"You're not too good at talking, are you?"

"Human speak hard," it managed, its efforts fueling both shock and some form of mutual understanding between the two species.

Feeling comforted by their interaction, Clarke initiated a drivel of small talk. In her experience, mindless chatter was the best soother for creeping anxiety, despite usually speaking to empty rooms. The alien's presence was oddly comforting, its continuing silence made bearable by its seeming willingness to listen.

Four more figures of extraterrestrial stock flooded into the room. Their demeanors were clinical and focused. As they began examining her, she winced with discomfort as a foreign apparatus was inserted into her abdomen. Panic found her voice, "What was that?" she asked, her words cloaked with anxiety.

The first alien, her accidental confidant, responded, but not quite to her relief.

"Monitor for fetus. Will dissolve after birth."

Birth.   The one idea that set her heart racing with terror was Clarke's barely audible whisper, "Thank you." Though not the words she wished to hear, the fact that they were willing to explain was a small comfort, however minimal.

Finally, the examination was over. The aliens had left on her belly a cold gel-like substance, leaving her to clean it off.

As she attempted to tidy herself, struggling against the weight of her own body, a cool appendage offered assistance. This was the first contact they had made that wasn't coldly clinical. It startled her; she merely blinked up at it in surprise. 

"Thank you," she found herself blurting out.

"How long will I be...?" she gestured towards her swollen belly, hoping for an answer. Instead, came a succinct, 

"Classified."

With a huff of frustration, she muttered, "Of course," "Okay, help me down," she requested, gingerly sliding off the table with the alien’s assistance.

As the alien guards guided her back to her pod, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. "Maybe these creatures hold empathy," she silently pondered. Reprimanding herself, she responded aloud, "No, Clarke." They literally kidnapped you from your life. "Don't get soft now." She chided herself as she turned the thought over in her mind. Clarke chalked her softened thoughts up to the hormonal roller coaster pregnancy was proving to be.

Chapter Text

Date still unknown

As the simulated nights wore on, Clarke observed the changes her body was going through. Her belly, going from the size of a honeydew and slowly growing into a bloated entity akin to a watermelon, feeling as though she had popped overnight. Her hands roamed over the round protrusion on her belly. She was heaving with life now, fascinating and terrifying. She wondered if this was how her own mother felt when carrying her.

Lowering her palm, she gently poked at her belly. The life in her womb stirred and made her react. "Hey," Clarke’s voice trembled, for this was the first time the movement from within responded to her. 

"I guess... I’m your mama."

Almost as if acknowledging her words, the life inside her danced again, causing a ripple across her abdomen.

"Your mommy had a life before this, you know,"

She spoke softly, initiating a calming conversation with the creature inside her. 

She had friends and family, and she began telling tales from her life on Earth. Likes and dislikes, triumphs and failures, and about the girl she first loved. 

The room was silent aside from the shakiness of her voice. "I...I don’t know if I’ll see her or my mother...again." A lone tear escaped her eye, doubling her sentimental solitude.
Swiftly regaining her resolve, Clarke sighed,

"Right now, it’s you and me."

The creature inside her churned in response. Sending Clarke into a bout of nausea, forcing her to retreat to the restroom.

"Though I would appreciate it if you did not do that," 

Clarke cleaned her mouth out.

____________________________________________________________________________

As the days and nights wore on, Clarke found finding a position to sleep quite hard. But this time she wasn’t awakened by the discomfort of sleep but by a feeling of wetness. Flicking her bedside light on, she discovered a glistening trail of pure white—milk—running down her belly from her much fuller breasts. The sight rendered Clarke speechless. A part of her knew this is what happens in gestation, but seeing it put it into such perspective. She was lactating. They made her unwilling body house life, and now it was forming nourishment.

Her alien reality slammed into her. The threaded beads of milk, glinting softly in the spaceship light, held her attention. The being inside her wriggled as if feeling its host's anxiety.

Clarke spent that night in a fitful sleep, wondering how the days ahead would treat her. 

______________________________________________________________________

2004 for Lexa

On earth, Lexa was celebrating a milestone. Her 30th birthday and a big work promotion. Becoming CFO of Albion Healthcare. The accomplishment, though great, felt wrong without her friend there. Her first love was her best friend, Clarke. The day was filled with party preparations, warm wishes, and whirls of color. Yet, a considerable chunk of her thoughts were ensnared in the tendrils of past memories, echoed by the peaceful silence of her private quarters.

Lexa found herself rummaging through her old photo albums. The pictures capture youthful days spent with Clarke.

"Wow, you were so cute!" 

A familiar voice slipped into her reverie. It was Raven, Lexa's boisterous but well-meaning friend. A mischievous spark twinkled in Raven's eye 

"Raven, are you drunk?"

Lexa chided, a lighthearted sigh escaping her lips. Her heart was full of love for her clumsy, feisty friend.

"Only a liiiitle bit," Raven whispered as she squeezed Lexa, their shared laughter echoing in the quiet room. 

"You can stay over tonight,"

 "Epic!" "Thank you, Lexa!"

Raven's thanks filled the room as she waltzed out, leaving Lexa once again to her thoughts. As solitude wrapped around Lexa, she turned the pages of her album.
She stumbled across another photo of Clarke teaching her how to fish. A candid moment was frozen into eternity as Lexa was soaked by the water after a spontaneous brawl with the large fish. Clarke was there, her contagious laughter captured in the picture. 

A tear slid down Lexa’s cheek. The distance between them manifested itself physically as she murmured into the void. "Oh, Clarke." The heaviness of time weighed on her. Turning the pages, each new image revealed new tales of happiness, the echoing pain of Clarke's absence coiling tightly with every beat of her heart. 

Lexa left the room as people were getting antsy to celebrate with her. Her 30th birthday, though jovial, carried a sense of bitterness. 

She hoped that wherever Clarke was, she could look at the same sky and feel her.

Chapter Text

Date still unknown.

Clarke was now deep into the throes of what had to be the strangest pregnancy in human history, settled, as she was, in a spaceship somewhere in the far reaches of the cosmos. The veins beneath her skin drummed rhythmically, pulsating with the energy of new life. Her breathing became more labored as the creature crowded her body.

Her breasts were painfully swollen and tender. Her cheeks had taken on a certain roundness, and a glow enveloped her. An unexpected delivery arrived at her pod - a package from the alien overseers. The contents photographs. She sorted through the pile of haunting images. Images of her strolling around her pod, doing things, merely existing, but to her captors a way to monitor her recent gravid condition.

It was an eerie reminder of the alien presence, but there was also something comforting about the candid moments captured. As she pulled her garments over her belly, the now all-too-familiar disembodied voice echoed in her pod.

"Experiment 645, follow the guards."

Though initially fearful, Clarke had learned that her speed, or lack thereof, now made her a non-threat. She waddled behind the guard, looking more like an awkward duck than a human woman due to the shift of her center of gravity. 

The guards led her into a different room, one dominated by a large screen. Suddenly, the screen came alive, and a breath caught in Clarke's throat.

"Lexa," 

she whispered, a name lifting from pained memories. The young girl with chestnut hair swam into view. The beloved face Clarke hadn’t seen in years These creatures had somehow accessed Clarke's memories, now broadcasting them onto this massive screen. The screen played their stories: the day of Clarke's abduction, Lexa's heartfelt smile, and the softness of her gaze as she kissed Clarke.
Tears welled up in Clarke's eyes, a bitter cocktail of love, loss, violation, and nostalgia. Never had intrusion felt so precious. She was forced to relive their tender moments under the watching eyes of non-human observers. 

"Why do you torment me like this?" Clarke cried out, her voice a raw whisper against the drone of the ship. Replying with agonizing silence, scenes from her previous life continued to play on the screen.
Suddenly, everything went black. The voice filled the room once more, announcing,

"We are passing Experiment 645’s home, Earth."

Earth appeared on the screen in all its blue majesty. Clarke heaved herself up, wincing from the pains shooting down her back. She hobbled over to the screen. The cool touch of the screen against her palm jolted her already emotional heart as she watched her home planet slowly disappear into the blank abyss.

"I’m here, Mom,"

She whispered to the image of her distant planet, tears streaming down her face. She felt her fingertips brush against the screen, yearning for the warmth and familiarity of home.

After that, there was only the emptiness of space as the spacecraft sped onward. With a heavy heart, Clarke trudged back to her pod, haunted by the pain of being so near yet so far from home. She wondered if today was the last time she would see Earth.

"Was that the last time I was going to see home?" 

She asked aloud, but of course no response from the cold walls of her pod. With a sigh, Clarke gingerly eased herself down, rubbing the small of her back against the dull whispers of pain. She sent a silent prayer out into the universe, hoping that her feet would touch the Earth again. The humble, beautiful blue planet she called home. She was Experiment 645. But she was also Clarke. And she held the hope that someday she might be again.

Chapter Text

Date unknown

Twinges awoke Clarke with a jolt, her back punctuated by sharp pain. Over the simulated days, the twinges had only grown in intensity, very much like the life that stirred in her womb. The simulated days had come and gone, a mockery of her days on Earth. Her captors had provided her with puzzles, more books, and even a canvas.

But with the revelation of the photos they had delivered to Clarke, participating in any activity made her feel like an animal in a zoo. But the twinges were getting worse, morphing into cramps. "Euugh," Clarke managed to groan out loud, sitting up abruptly and rubbing her back. Tangled in her sheets, her back throbbing. 

"Okay, okay, I’m moving,

Seeking relief, Clarke sought out the jacuzzi. It was her sanctuary and temporary relief from her physical and emotional aches. Ascending from the bed, the gentle round swell of her belly leading the way, Clarke headed towards the tub. She didn’t bother looking in the mirror. Some realities are better left unseen. Submerging herself in the warm comfort of the jacuzzi, her belly, now a full crescent moon, peeked out of the warm comfort of the bubbling water. 

"How long do you plan on being in there?" 

she asked, placing her hand lovingly over her belly. An unexpected jab from within only earned a soft laugh from her.

"Okay, okay, I won't rush you!"

Soothed by her gentle words, the tiny life inside tossed and turned playfully. Making a wave of nausea sweep over her.

"God, I hate that."

She groaned as another stronger cramp tiptoed up her spine.

"OOOOKAY,"

She grimaced, her teeth clenching 

"You may be here sooner than expected."

Emptying the tub, she prepared herself for the inevitable. Recalling what her mother would tell her patients and the crude education she received in health class, Clarke tried to prepare herself for the inevitable event. 

Creating a makeshift rope from her bed sheets, Clarke anchored it to her bed frame, her hands fumbling with knots as an intense contraction clenched her. The change in her belly was intriguing, her belly softening and hardening in turns as if riding the waves of an unknown sea.
As another violent contraction took hold of her, Clarke addressed her swollen belly.

"Please be kind to me."

A plea borne of love and fear, her mind whirled with trepidation and anticipation as she readied herself for the unavoidable. All that was left was to wait. Wait to see how it unfolds. Clarke retreated into her mind to ground herself. Never thinking she’d be in this position, being so young and so alone, literally in outer space, with her mother nowhere near to provide comfort. She has to face this endeavor alone. 

Chapter Text

Date unknown

An anguished echo was all that was audible in the sterile surroundings of her pod. 

"GGGYAAH!"

The sound escaped the girl. Fighting another contraction, simulated days came and went, a false sun rising and setting in her artificial sky. Time moved at its own pace, and Clarke was left to endure alone. A beadwork of sweat blanketed her trembling body, growing heavy with fatigue. Her belly, swollen with the alien life within, quivered in rhythmic, torturous waves.

Changing positions  Clarke leaned on her bed frame, rocking, trying to find some form of relief for her tortured pelvis. Pressure has mounted in her lower abdomen. Her gravid form quaked with each new contraction. Panting through the previous one that wracked her body, Clarke collapsed on her elbows. 

" Ahhh erugh " 

Clarke felt she had been laboring forever. Her alien captors had delivered food, but the thought of consuming anything in her state stirred an upheaval in her already distressed stomach.
 

" Oh- Oh"

Clarke's face pinched up in pain, straining with the oncoming contraction. But this one felt different when, suddenly, a gush of liquid burst from her vagina. Looking down, Clarke blubbered in pain. Her waters had broken. With a strangely light purple tint, it spread against the clinical tile leaving Clark's body shaking in the aftermath. 

Instinct and an inexplicable feminine force guided her, pulling her onto all fours and steering her hands toward the makeshift rope she had crafted. The sight of blood slowly flowing from her body, however, made the color drain from her already pale face.

"Breathe,"

A voice in the back of her mind ordered she obeyed, drawing desperate gulps of air between each crippling contraction.

Screaming and wailing in agony, her alien captors did nothing to help.

"Plu-Please- mom anyone- I can't I can, GYYAAHHGH"

A scream interrupted her pleas for help as a strong contraction ripped through every cell of her body. Her alien captors were neither cruel nor compassionate; they simply observed in the stoic silence of their species.

The pool of perspiration that had formed on the ground mirrored her anguished reflection. Clarke was becoming a pitiful sight, pushing life into her captive world. Dissolving into more sobs between contractions, the ever-present whimpers of "mom" escaping her.

Monstrous pain housed itself within her, different from the pangs she had previously endured. Mustering strength from her depths, she found herself squatting, guided by the invisible hand of Mother Nature. Clarke bore down, her form shaking under the stress as the alien creature that had resided in her for who knows how long descended deeper into her birth canal, stretching her n ways she never hopes to feel again.    

"Get out, get out, get out."

Clarke shrieks out, giving another triumphant push. The creature was crowning, stretching her body to its limits.

Milk dribbled slowly from her breasts through clenched teeth and trembling limbs, besieged by pain, longing, and love. With a final push, she bore down and roared with a cry from the abyss of her endurance. The alien babe slipped from her, bathing the cold tiles in a mess of blood and birth fluids.

Clarke collapsed, the monumental effort seemed to have siphoned her spirit from her body. She lay on the cold, hard floor, body still trembling from the aftershocks of birth. Feeling tension on the cord that still connected her and the creature, her ears blossomed with sound as the fragile little life echoed its first cry.

____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke was still reeling from the primal depths of childbirth, an ordeal unlike any she had ever experienced. Deep breaths racked her weakened body as she summoned the courage to gaze upon the life she had created. Here, on the other side of pain and fear, she wheezed as she clung desperately to this surreal postpartum moment. She heard its soft cries, like white noise cutting through her flustered consciousness. Knowing she had to look down at whatever alien creature had come out of her body, her eyes connected with the brand-new being.

The baby was visibly slippery, doused in fluids that baptized her entry into this life. Clarke's hesitant hands reached out, cradling her child. The months of abduction and her "sessions" left her anchored in the reality of the moment. The creature looked relatively human, with soft pink lips that pouted in an infant's bewilderment, a cute button-like nose, five fingers, and five toes. Startlingly human-like.  Even the umbilical cord, still throbbing rhythmically with lifeblood, was a poetic reminder of terrestrial origins.

The child's eyes though, were nothing short of extraordinary, a heavenly concoction of lavender dancing impatiently within its irises. The hair was a stark, stunning platinum, looking almost ghostly white, with a tuft of it on her head. Clarke gingerly guided the alien-human hybrid to her breast. The sensation was strange, the tiny pink mouth clamoring in desperation, and yet, in this singled-out corner of the galaxy, her heart throbbed with an intimate connection she'd never experienced before. Each suckle seemed to strengthen the bond that had been forged between them in her womb. Clarke murmured, her voice raw exhaustion dancing on its edges.

"Hey, I'm your mama."

The tiny, purple-eyed observer continued to suckle, staring up at her as if the universe were contained within.

"You're so beautiful."

Clarke's words slipped away on a tide of unshed joyous tears. All her torments, fears, and longing seemed minuscule, obscured by the soulful purple eyes that stared at her, arousing a fierce determination in Clarke. 

"I can't believe you're mine." 

The surreal odyssey of alien pregnancy had reached its destination here in the arms of Clarke. She wiped down the baby with tender strokes, delicately severing the umbilical cord. Comforting the infant once it had its fill, she swaddled it closely, her eyes tracing the delicate eyelids that battled with impending sleep. Thinking of all the people she wished were here and loved, her mind settled on a name.

"Lexa."

She whispered the name out. The baby made a soft cooing sound as if knowing the weight of the name. 

"Hey Lexa"

Clarke kissed her soft forehead. 

"I can't promise I'll be the perfect mom, but I'll do my best considering our circumstances." "I love you and I will never leave you."

 A promise Clarke intended to keep as long as there was breath in her body. As Lexa, her little alien-hybrid, fell asleep in the comforting crook of her elbow, exhaustion finally caught up with the brave new mother. The pod silenced under the harmonious symphony of their synchronized breaths while Clarke's fingers curled around Lexa's tiny one. A promise of protection and a silent vow of motherhood wrapped around the room as she succumbed to the allure of sleep.

The infiniteness of space seemed less threatening, and loneliness seemed less painful, for in her arms, Clarke held a tiny piece of the cosmos that was her own.

Chapter Text

Date unknown

Days passed in a dismally artificial way, leaving only Clarke and her newborn daughter, Lexa, isolated among a thrumming world of alien life forms and unfamiliar technologies. Clarke nursed carefully, her body still aching and stitched from the throes of childbirth. Somehow, alien captors had facilitated a semblance of comfort by offering chuck pads, ice packs, and diapers for the new mother and child.

At the moment, her captors had not tried to enter her pod, leaving her to bond with her daughter. Lexa, with her uncannily lavender eyes, never let Clarke out of her sight. However, the mirroring was mutual. Clarke, mindful of her baby's location, took great care to keep her close. The bond was tether-like. Being too far from Lexa fed her a marrow-deep dread that kept her unwashed and unkempt. 

"God, I look like a swamp monster,"

She mumbled to her mirror-double-stained and sullen.

Suddenly, a voice —null of emotion— echoed around her,

"Experiment 645 is ready for testing."

 "Experiment? Wha-"  Clarke panicked, abandoning her painting for the day-clutched her sleeping baby tighter as a set of guards barged into her safe bubble. 

"645, come with us." 

One of the guards commanded, brandishing a sinister device that forced Clarke into submission.  Securing Lexa to her chest with her makeshift wrap, she followed the guards, each step sending a pulse of pain and panic through her tired body. In a sterile alien examination room, they left her. The standstill moment shattered as Clarke felt a familiar pinprick of fast-approaching oblivion. She shielded Lexa with her body as everything went black and the garbled voice of the intercom boomed above.

"Experiment 645 carried." The disembodied voice sounded again.

Waking up strapped on an examination table, her wild blue eyes darted everywhere. Her heart tore itself to shreds as she called desperately for Lexa. Finally, she saw a little body; more or less, she heard it. Lexa was crying bloody murder as a group of aliens were around her. The aliens were poking and prodding Lexa. Her cries reached Clarke, slicing through her heart. The tormenting sight of Lexa, red-faced and screaming, was unbearable.

"No, stop… you're hurting her… please! ""Don't mess with her; it's me you want," pleaded Clarke.

It was as though she could feel her daughter's pain as tears came to her eyes. Frenzied, she strained against the restraints, the table creaking with her struggle. Tendrils of fear wrapped around her heart as her attempts proved futile.

At last, granted freedom, without wasting a moment, she snatched Lexa from the terrifying contraption she was kept in, her fingers gently brushing against the soft skin. Her daughter was tomato red from her screaming, and her little chest was flexing, working to bring air into her lungs. Rocking her tearful child, Clarke swore at the mute aliens, 

"You all are a bunch of monsters." 

Pain and fury heightened her every word. She cradled Lexa close to her heart, murmuring soothing words that barely masked her own trembling.

"Lexa Lexa, shhhhh mommy's here." 

The baby cried in its mother's arms. 

Their trip back to the pod was a silent journey charged with fear, anger, and helplessness. Back in their sanctuary, she offered Lexa her breast, watching with a bittersweet smile as Lexa latched instantly. The small cries turned into satisfied grunts as she ate her fill. As her tears fell silently, her gaze shifted between Lexa and the rugged drawer that now served as her makeshift crib.

"I want to protect you, but I don’t know how."

The question of the unknown sank into Clarke as the two companions soon found sleep overtaking them—the day's psychological assault taki

Chapter Text

Date still unknown

Clarke’s hours have bled into days caring for her daughter. Her forced hosts had not tried to interrupt the new mother and baby for quite some time, which brought relief to Clarke. So Clarke watched Lexa grow, a precious but also stressful experience. Gazing at the child always brought thoughts of her hybrid lineage—an unsettling reminder of the trials Clarke has gone through. 

Lexa was currently going through a bout of colic. Clarke only knew what it was because her mom said she had it as a baby. Lexa’s screams were an unbearable symphony of misery. She attempted to soothe the infant with lullabies whispered through clenched teeth, bathed her in lukewarm water, and performed diaper changes. She embarked on ceaseless walks around the pod. All her efforts, however, seemed futile against Lexa's ceaseless wailing. 

The only thing that would settle her was the offering of Clarke's breast. Her nipples felt raw; they were the only source of solace for her alien child. Only then did silence descend, bringing Clarke the smallest respite from the impending madness. So Clarke paced the pod, eyes bloodshot, as her daughter fed. 

With each relentless scream and each cry that echoed in her ears, Clarke found herself grappling with a myriad of emotions. She loved Lexa, but she felt out of her element. There were times when dreadful thoughts clouded her mind.

"She's just a parasite,"

"She's not even human."

Dark thoughts of extinguishing the little creature's life punctured her thoughts, a deep darkness threatening to consume her.

"Aren't mothers supposed to love their children?" She questioned the words forming a bitter cocktail with her saliva.

Guilt was gnawing at her mind as her thoughts were trying to poison her.

"She is not yours." 

"She was forced."

whispered their sinful mutterings into her consciousness. Yet she tried to keep these invasive mental interludes at bay, rocking them away as she comforted her alien child.

"Shhh, shh, Lexa, please, mommy is trying."

Clarke pleaded with her daughter, as she was exhausted. 

Overwhelmed by the nightmarish thoughts, Clarke left Lexa in her makeshift crib, going into the bathroom and rocking to keep the negative thoughts away.

"Stop!" 

Clarke screamed into the tiled room, exhaustion in every cell of her body. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she opened the door. Lexa's screams flooded her ears once more. Clarke stared for a long time, at the creature. So small and vulnerable, communicating the only way it knew how. So Clarke, through her exhaustion, collected Lexa and sat on the bed, wincing as the baby latched onto her tender nipple. Lexa sucked angrily. Her lavender eyes swirling with emotion.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." 

Clarke broke down crying, her tears mingling with the milk that leaked out of her daughter's mouth. For the next hour, it seemed as if Lexa would never stop eating her feeding-induced quiet, giving Clarke a fleeting sense of relief. Lexa ate and ate until, to Clarke's surprise, the insatiable little being finally sated, drifted off to sleep. The angry lines on her little forehead had smoothed out, but her little hands were still kneading Clarke's breast in her sleep.

The moment of quiet was deafening to Clarke. Not wanting to risk SIDS, Clarke carefully transferred the babe into the makeshift crib and then made her way to the bathroom. Turning on the jacuzzi, the young woman collapsed into the warm water. Her strength leaving her, she broke into quiet but heavy sobs, wishing for her mother at the moment. 

"I I-I can't do this, What mother wishes to end their child?" 

With a heavy heart, haunted by her intrusive thoughts and the guilt of her reluctant motherhood, Clarke considered what brought her here. Postpartum depression could have been inevitable given her circumstances. The cocktail of hormones, the abduction, the experiments, and having no support system. Everything just piled on top of each other. Of course, it would lead to emotional turmoil. 

For hours, she remained submerged, indulging in this sensory disconnection and cautiously attempting to navigate the tumultuous sea of emotions that swelled within her. Finally, replenished to some extent, Clarke emerged. Seeking some solace for her raw chest, she used a specially formulated cream provided by her captors. The only way her alien captors seemed to show a semblance of sympathy for her discomfort. 

Clarke found herself staring at Lexa’s sleeping figure and pouring her emotions into art, sketching her child under the muted lights of the pod with tender strokes. The sketching, along with her daughter's quiet slumber, brought her momentary peace. Her peaceful face offset the circumstances of her existence. As she scribbled her feelings onto the page, she realized with an aching affection,

"She didn't ask to be here anymore than I did," Clarke whispered to herself. 

Though the past few days have brought Clarke to question her own maternal instinct. She was also silently proud of herself. She was prevailing alone, god knows how far from Earth, far from her mother with an alien hybrid child, but she was doing it. Clarke made a vow to take one moment at a time, and she would make it through. As she lay down next to the makeshift crib, exhaustion washed over her. She fell into the depths of her first peaceful sleep in days with the promise that she could survive another day.

Chapter Text

The simulated days came and went. Clarke watched her daughter grow in the small space where the pod was slowly evolving into their home. Clarke's sketches of Lexa adorned the walls, along with a few handprints from Lexa herself. Lexa's age was an enigma, as Earth's months, weeks, and days didn't align with their interstellar captivity. By Clarke's guestimation, Lexa seemed to be at the development stage of a typical Earth-bound six-month-old. The aliens, their silent benefactors, frequently delivered books about anything and everything, including human growth and development books and infant care guides, which proved invaluable for Clarke.

Clarke was starting to develop a routine for her and Lexa. Rolling over each morning, she’d spend a few minutes gazing at her changing daughter, softly petting the platinum hair. Then, soaking with Lexa in the jacuzzi with the little one on her lap, she would pass small handfuls of water over the babe's scalp. Clarke found the water calmed Lexa and usually led to a smoother start to the day. She'd relax instantly, complacent and content, which led Clarke to muse, "Reminds you of being inside Mommy; I bet it was nice and warm." She would then tickle Lexa's little potbelly, which sent the girl into fits of giggles.
 

Their time in the bath was serene, and Clarke would spin tales of her past terrestrial life. Lavender eyes focusing on Clarke as if understanding every word. Some mornings, Clarke would sing a little song about loving her body. Lexa, overall, Clarke would say, was an easy baby, except when it came to eating. As much as Lexa was a delight, she did have certain preferences that proved challenging, such as her firm fixation on breastfeeding.

Clarke was at the stage of having Lexa try a few solids, and on today’s menu were mashed peas.

"Here comes the planne" Clarke singsonged trying to coax her little one to eat, but Lexa turned her head, refusing to open up to the offending spoon. Clarke made the motion of lifting her shirt, Lexa’s little mouth opened, thinking she had won the battle. In a moment of trickery, Clarke deposited a spoonful of peas in her little mouth. Clarke wished she had a camera, for the baby looked as if she had tasted a lemon, screwing her mouth up in disgust.

"That’s it, you got-"

Clarke couldn't even finish her sentence as peas were catapulted onto her body. Wiping her face, Clarke gazed at her daughter. Lexa was busy smashing the other peas around on her highchair table. 

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" Clarke chuckled, relenting.

"Okay, okay, I know when I have lost the battle." Trying to persuade Lexa was often a silly game of mess and mischief that ended in hearty laughter.

Lexa just babbled and giggled happily. Cleaning herself up, Clarke wiped Lexa down and sat down, letting the baby latch. Lexa grunted eagerly with each determined suck. Clarke stroked her daughter's hair, watching her eat. 

"At least it’s not as bad as last time." 

Clark remembered when the aliens must have given her food that did not agree with Lexa, for it resulted in her boycotting breastfeeding for an entire day, leaving Clarke in pain with an engorged chest. No amount of begging could make Lexa relent, forcing Clarke to relieve the pressure and milk herself. When Lexa decided to latch the next day, Clarke sighed with relief but was puzzled over what she had eaten that might have caused the issue. But Lexa latched on as if nothing had even transpired.

The aliens had been leaving the pair relatively alone. Once in a while, a drone-like visitor would drift in, scanning and monitoring their biological parameters or take samples. The other day, one came and took a blood sample and a bit of milk. Though invasive, it was over relatively quickly. Clarke grudgingly accepted this as part of their existence, choosing to focus more on their growing bond. 

Clarke would spend the rest of the day reading to Lexa, doing small exercises with the baby, and doing lots of art.

____________________________________________________________________________

2004

Where Clarke's days were full of baby babble, Lexa’s were far from it. In the heart of Arcadia General Lexa left the scene of reporters. She had done her duty diligently, and another case had reached its rightful conclusion. Aden, an eight-year-old boy, had been found and was now being reunited with his anxious parents under the watchful eyes of the eager media. Lexa's soft smile masked her gloomy demeanor. She waved to the boy as she left for the day.

"Yet another happy ending," she murmured to herself. 

The lively scene before her stirred a hidden ache, a reminder of unfinished business, and a sorrowful void in her world.

"But so many are still out there, waiting for theirs."

Anya, noticing the shadow over her friend, asked

"Lexa, are you okay?"

"MMfine," the answer was mumbled out. Anya could see the tension in the other girl's body. 

Anya inquired, "I'm hitting the gym later; why don't you join me?"

Lexa for once accepted the invitation. Lexa's knuckles resonated with the hardened surface of the punching bag in fast, rhythmic thumps, taking full charge of her coiled turmoil. Anya, now done with her own set, glanced at Lexa; the raw aggression in her movements was not missed.

"Lexa, stop!"

Anya intervened forcefully, pulling Lexa away from her relentless attack on the boxing bag. Resisting at first, Lexa finally collapsed against Anya, 

With silent tears coming down Lexa’s face, Anya knew Lexa's reluctance to share emotions and gently steered both of them into a vacant workout room, out of scrutiny and the lens's glare. Acknowledging the emotional onslaught, Anya held her friend as she spiraled into sorrow. 

"It's not fair!"

Lexa cried, slamming the floor in frustration. Anya pulled her in tighter and whispered,

"I know," her soothing words doing little to mask her own helplessness.
In a hushed whisper, Lexa confessed, 

"I just want her." Lexa's tear-touched whisper echoed in the room. A hint of what was really upsetting Lexa finally came forth.

Knowing they were done with the workout, Anya helped Lexa home. The younger woman was lost in thought the whole drive. Once home, Lexa hastily bid goodbye to Anya, too embarrassed by her outburst of emotions. Usually poised and self-assured, Lexa found herself out of her depth. Her quick goodbye marked an early end to her day.

Freshly showered and in her cozy bed, Lexa allowed the waves of exhaustion to wash over her. Nestling into Hamburger, her feline friend, she let her eyes fall heavy, her body desperately needing the sanctuary of sleep after the emotional day. Her mind, though, took off sprinting toward the edges of what-ifs. Was there a reunion waiting for them too? Was there a happily ever after for her? Her thoughts echoed unanswered through the chambers of her experience: "Would she ever meet her missing love again?"

_________________________________________________________________________

In galaxies far far away A disembodied voice boomed

“Experiment 645 is terminated”

Chapter Text

It had been a normal day for Clarke. She had woken up Lexa with a good morning song. Her daughter fussed a bit, waiting for her morning feed. Though Lexa looked about a year old, she still suckled on Clarke. Clarke loved those moments of the day when Lexa, who was still sleepy, would make the cutest yawns while eating. Clarke would stroke Lexa's long platinum hair. 

"What are you doing, gymnastics in your sleep?" Clarke hummed

Lexa's hair was a sight to see each morning. 

"I shouldn't be surprised; you were always a wriggly one.”

Memories of Lexa flipping around inside her filled her mind. As Clarke teased her daughter, Lexa would giggle and smile, causing milk to spill out of the corners of her mouth.

After both of them had their morning bonding, Clarke would lead them in small exercises. The one-year-old trying to mirror her mother was a sight to see. Clarke wished she had a camera to save these moments. The only pictures she had so far were the ones her captors supplied her during her pregnancy and one that showed the moment after Lexa was born. Though creepy, Clarke cherished those photos.

After morning exercise and the bath, Clarke was getting Lexa changed.

"What should we do, Lexa Bear?"

Bright lavender eyes gazed at their mother.

“ Blocks?”

The young child whined disapprovingly.

"Okay, okay, not that. How about music?”

The hybrid baby’s eyes lit up.

"Awww, I think that’s what you want." Clarke laughed as she scooped up her daughter.

The aliens were kind enough to provide Clarke with a primitive musical instrument collection. Xylophones, kalimbas, recorders, and dulcimers the only instrument she despised was the kazoo, and unfortunately for Clarke, Lexa loved the kazoo.

They were in the middle of trying to play hot crust buns when the doors of the pod wooshed open. Clarke immediately picked up Lexa holding her close to her.

Clarke's voice shook with fear as she questioned their visitors about their intentions.

“What do you want?”

Whenever her captors visited, positive things were not likely to happen.

The aliens responded with garbled noises, expressing their request for Lexa.

Clarke growled, "Not without me.” Refusing to let them take her daughter away.

The aliens stepped closer. "We have no need of you, 645"

but Clarke's grip on Lexa tightened even more. 

“You will not touch a hair on her head over my dead body." Blue eyes flashed with a fierceness that Clarke didn’t fully feel.

Clarke knew she was playing a dangerous game; she knew she was at the alien's mercy. But for once, she hoped they would listen. The group of aliens turned towards each other; babbles were heard.

"Come, Experiment 645," one prodded Clarke's back with something. By this time, Clarke couldn't tell who was holding onto whom harder, her or Lexa. The tot's eyes were red as she clung to Clarke.

"Shhh, it'll be okay, baby; I'm right here." Clarke soothed her daughter. They made their way down the corridors and stopped in a room. 

"645, stand in the corner; if you interfere, we will remove you." The disembodied voice commanded

Clarke, knowing she didn’t want to leave her daughter alone, sat Lexa on the exam table. 

"Mommy's going to be right over there, ujst look at me no matter what  look at Mommy.”

Clarke didn’t know if Lexa understood her fully, but lavender eyes never left hers. There was a moment when the tears spilled over, the aliens had injected some silver liquid in her baby, causing Lexa to scream in pain. Clarke had never felt worse—she couldn't move for fear of being removed—but seeing those lavender eyes scream in pain and watching her baby reach out for her broke Clarke's heart. She felt like a failure, not being able to protect her child. 

"I know, baby, I know, mommy's right here; we’ll be able to leave soon."

Clarke said all the reassurances to Lexa, but she felt as if they were more for herself. Finally, as it seemed forever, the aliens deemed to be done with their examination. The tot was deposited into Clarke's arms, and they were left alone in the stark white room to cry.

“645 progeny is ready." The disembodied voice boomed once again.

Clarke was too busy trying to comfort her daughter to pay attention to what was happening around her; all she remembered was taking a left and not a right.

"Clarke,” a voice warbled.

She whirled around.

“You”

It was the one alien she talked to long ago; it was holding something in its appendage.

“I hope my name tastes of poison, for you have no right to talk to me, not after you knew what was going to happen.”

“Experiment-” 

"No, you listen to me! You drag a young girl away from home. Tease her of her past life, force-feed her, Force her to have a baby. I was a child-” The words were choked out: "You forced a child to have a child I have no idea how long it has been since I've been gone.

By this time, tears were flowing freely.

"Pictures": The alien croaked out under her fury.

It shoved a small chip into her hand that seemed to dissolve under her skin.

“ What?”

"Human memories... memories”….there was a pause as if the creature was trying to find the right words.

"Heart, special..sorry.”

Clarke was stunned. “Wha?”

"Open only for you,” The alien advanced on her, Clarke stepped back clutching Lexa harder. The little girl had tired herself out from her tears.

"645, there were unexpected findings with you, you are extraordinary, but we are finished; you are going to earth.

Clarke was stunned, first by the news and then by the fact that this was the most the alien had talked to her. She croaked out, "I'm going home."

 "Soon," 

The alien gave supposed eye contact to Clarke for a while, turned, and started moving away.

"Thank you."

The human's words were soft in the air of the ship.

"You will always have a piece of the cosmos with you." Those were the alien's parting words.

Thoughts flew through the blonde's mind.

"I'm going home.

"The thoughts brought warmth to Clarke's heart. She gazed down at her child, watching the little chest rise and fall. Suddenly, the disembodied voice boomed once more.

"Experiment 645 is terminated."

_____________________________________________________________________

Clarke was surrounded by light. She felt weightless but heavy at the same time. She became one with space and time, and then the world was dark. Blue eyes adjusted to their surroundings as Clarke became more aware of her surroundings. She was standing against something. She stepped back.

"A tree." The words were cautiously and reverently whispered.

It was a huge Douglas fir, Clarke whirled around; she was in a grove of trees. In the distance, she thought she caught sight of flickering lights. Lights that were moving fast

Hope bubbled up in her chest, but with caution. 

"Those have to be cars, and where cars are, there are people.”

The human's heart seemed to have stopped. Here on a lowly spot next to a highway, Clarke could feel the soil beneath her feet and the crisp terrestrial air. Tears cascaded down round cheeks. Glancing down, the little one was now slowly waking up

"Ma ma." A voice broke into Clarke's thoughts, but the voice was familiar; it was Lexa.
Blue eyes connected with lavender.

"We're home, love." Clarke kissed her cheek. "We're finally home."

Chapter Text

The young police officer watched the water drip down his windshield. Another long shift. His mother always told him he worked too hard. His partner was asleep next to him. They had driven out to California to help with a case and now back in Oregon. A yawn wracked the young man's body. His partner let out a snort. 

"Dang Bart, could you snore any louder?” 

Andy nudged his partner. Bart shifted in his sleep. "Leave me alone; let an old man sleep.” 

Andy rolled his eyes and let his thoughts wander. God, I can’t wait to get into bed. I am almost too tired to eat. What if Star Wars were real? Shit, did I forget to do my taxes? Nothing of real substance when suddenly on the road on the shoulder, at a distance, he swears he saw someone. Rubbing his eyes 

"I must be hallucinating right now." 

He squinted again, and to his surprise, there appeared to be a person walking barefoot and drenched, carrying an unseen object. He shook his partner awake. 

"Huh, what?" The older man exclaimed 

Andy pointed ahead. 

“Do you see that?” 

"All I see is trees, Andy pointed, and sure enough, Bart's eyes focused and he saw a person walking. 

"Now why is a person out here barefoot 40 miles from any big city?” Bart muttered 

"You tell me” Andy shrugged

"Pull over," Bart demanded. Andy hesitated, but he decelerated and moved the car further to the shoulder, noticing that the person was walking at a slower pace. He flashed the headlights, causing the person to freeze. 

The car rolled along the shoulder slowly as Bart called out. 

“ Hello?” The person didn’t respond. They pulled closer. 

Both men could make out long blonde hair, and with limited deduction, Bart yelled out

 "Ma'am, miss." The person stopped and turned slowly towards the car. 

“Do you need help, miss?”

The young woman responded with a quivering voice, chilled to the bone from the rain. 

"Yes, yes, please. I'm searching for Arcadia." Both men noticed that the woman was clutching a small child. 

“Well, Arcadia is about 32 miles away. Do you want a lift?” 

Scared blue eyes connected to Barts, but he saw a fierceness in them as well. 

"Hop in.”

"Andy, get the door.”

“Oh sh*t right." The young man jumped out of the car after putting it in park he opened the back motioning the young woman in. He put his hand briefly on her back, and he felt her stiffen. Removing it like he was burned by fire, her rubbed his neck.

"Shit, Shit sorry- umm would you like a blanket”

"Yes, please.”

Handing the young woman a blanket from the emergency kit, he jumped back in to start the engine, and they started rolling down the road again.

"Who are you looking for, if I may ask?" Bart turned around, watching the young woman.

"My mother”

Andy rolled his eyes, Yes, because we know every person named Mother.

Bart gave his younger partner a look as if hearing his thoughts.

"May I ask your name, miss?

“Expir-” She paused. "Clarke..Clarke Griffin”  

Andy’s eyes blew wide,  his grip on the steering wheel tightened. He remembers his aunt talking about a missing girl when he was younger. Even in his department, there was a reward if anyone could actually further the case, but that had gone cold a while ago; it was now 2004, and he heard she disappeared in 1992.

What the fuuuuuck. He screamed in his mind.

While Andy was having a mental mindfuck, Bart was struggling himself. He had heard the Griffin name before, but it had been a while. 

"Well, Miss Griffin, we shall get you to Arcadia.” 

"Thank you." She whispered 

Bart slowly turned around. The exchange between the two officers conveyed a sense of intrigue as they contemplated the inevitable discussion with their chief about this unexpected turn of events. 

"Well, this will be an interesting call into the chief." Andy mumbled 

“Interesting indeed” Bart agreed

_________________________________________________________________

Clarke had stumbled her way out of the trees, feeling dampness. Looking up, drops of water fell into her eyes, blurring her vision. Lexa squirmed; her daughter had never felt the wetness of rain before. Clarke settled her down. She wrapped Lexa in the thin jacket that she had on the ship.

 "Sorry, sorry. I know it's not comfortable, but I'll figure something out," Clarke murmured, her voice filled with determination. Lexa simply curled closer, seeking warmth and reassurance.
With a heavy heart, Clarke trudged down the slight hill towards the side of the road. The rain started to come down harder.

“ Of course it would.”

So wet and barefoot Clarke walked down the road. It was late, and a few cars passed her, but she knew no one would stop this late. And so she trudged on. Head down, rubbing Lexa's back, feeling the water soak into her skin.

It was one its cold, wet, sore foot after the other making their way down the road.  After what felt like an eternity, Clarke's senses tingled, as if something were watching her. She dared not look back but kept a steady pace. When beams of light illuminated her form from behind she kept walking.

“Hello”

“Ma’am Miss”

A voice called out to her.

“Yes, yes, please, I’m looking for Arcadia." Her voice shaky from being chilled by the rain.

Though wary of police, she knew this was her only option and needed to get Lexa and herself warm. Though filled with relief and a bit of trepidation, she let them guide her into the car and gave her a blanket she wrapped around Lexa and herself. Clarke could feel the men's eyes on her through the rearview mirror, their curiosity evident. But she kept her eyes downcast, her gaze focused solely on her daughter, willing her to stay calm.

"May I ask your name, miss?" One of the men's voices broke through the curious silence

"Expir—" she started, catching herself. "Clarke. Clarke Griffin."

Both men seemed shocked.

“I just want to go home," Clarke whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. 

“We’ll get you there,” one of the men assured her, his voice kind and comforting. Clarke couldn't help but feel a smidgen of relief, but she knew she could never truly relax until she was in her mother's arms again.

As the car rolled down the rainy road, all she could think of was, what is next. How long had she been gone? Would people remember her? All she could cling to was the thought of getting home. Exhaustion finally overcame her, and sleep seeped its way into her weary bones. It was a fitful sleep, but for the first time in a long while, there was a glimmer of hope in her heart.
Little did she know that the journey ahead would test her strength and resilience in ways she never thought possible. But Clarke had faced challenges before, and she was determined to overcome any obstacle that stood in her way. 

__________________________________________________________________

As the car rolled on, Bart found himself staring at an old news article

“Local Girl Missing Clarke Griffin” Dated 1992

There she was, staring at him from the photo, the same girl now sitting in his backseat, looking completely unchanged. 

Chapter Text

As memories of her childhood danced in her mind, Clarke was oblivious to her surroundings. While the young woman slept, the two men had made some calls. memories of her childhood danced in her mind, Clarke was oblivious to her surroundings. While the young woman slept, the two men had made some calls.

“Unit 219 transport requested." Andy’s eyes were wide as he heard his partner

Unit 219 was almost a myth. It was a sector of police that dealt with the extraordinary.

“Why can’t we?" Andy’s protest was hushed as the older man continued with his conversation.

Andy looked in the mirror, glancing at the young mother and child, wishing he could do more for them. Everything was about to get much worse before it got better.

____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke woke with a jolt as the feeling of something touching her broke her out of her sleep.

“Mom!” the blonde frantically called out.

As her vision became clearer and less blurry, Clarke found herself once again in an observation room. She almost burst into tears, feeling like she was back on the ship. Stark gray walls, and no one around. “Was it all a dream? No, it couldn’t have been.”

“Lexa” Blue eyes shot open, scanning the surroundings once again. “Lexa!” Her voice was filled with anxiety.

“Where is my daughter?” Clarke had launched herself off of the examination table, pacing and looking in every nook and cranny. Clarke had never felt such anxiety before. She was missing a part of herself, and she was determined to find it. Doors hissed open, and creatures—no humans, no people—filed into the room. One stepped forward, an older woman who seemed to hold no kindness in her face.

“Miss Griffi-” “Where is my daughter?” Clarke stated once again, her anxiety transforming into anger.

“Miss Griffin, my name is Dr. Coralleus, and this is my team." She gestured to the other people behind her.

“We are here to find out what happened to you, where you come from, and how you came to acquire such a creature."

The woman pointed to a screen that seemed to have a livestream to a room that showed a little girl, her Lexa curled into a corner. Clarke's heart broke, wishing she could jump through the screen and protect her daughter.

“Creature…..” The word tasted like poison on her tongue.

Well, Miss Griffin,” the woman paced. "You yourself have been gone quite a long time." "What year do you think it is?."

Clarke paused, her eyes never leaving the livestream of Lexa. Their lives in the pod weren’t dictated by time, but by routine. In all honesty, Clarke did not know how long she had been gone. Long enough to gestate a baby, though. Who knows if that was nine months; It could have been longer or shorter. "1996": She heard a subdued laugh from another person in a hazmat suit.

“Young lady, it is 2004."

2004, the words slammed into Clark's mind. “No, no, it can’t. That means.” A sob worked its way out of her.

“You have been gone for twelve years."

“That’s impossible,” the words blurted into the quiet of the room.

The Doc turned sharply, appraising the young woman. "I don’t think you’re in a position to question the possible and impossible."

Clarke felt as if the world had slowed down. "12 years! the number screamed in her mind. She felt her heart beat faster, taking in gulps of air.

“Aand we have a panic attack can I get 2 mg of Lorazepam?” The doctor drawled out. One of her little minions skittered away and appeared with a syringe.

“Miss Griffin, I will need you to calm down unless you want me to use this." Clarke's gaze was unfocused, the surrounding sounds muffled.

“Miss Griffin." The title cut through her haze. “Can you control yourself, or will I need to lean into pharmacologic matters”

Clarke's vision zeroed in on the syringe, anxiety gripping her even more.

“We noticed a few needle marks on her; maybe this isn't the right approaa…” the words dropped off as the doctor gave a steely gaze to the person who suggested it.

“Miss Griffin,” the doctor stated again, though this time slowly advancing on Clarke.

"Stop,” the words were choked out.

“Mmmmm,” the doctor was thoroughly unimpressed. “For once, we have evidence of extraterrestrial life, and they wanted this,” the doctor bemoaned while gesturing to Clarke.

“Well, that was rude,”

Ignoring the blonde's quip, she motioned Clarke to the examination table once again. Another person shuffled around Clarke. “We're just getting vitals; don’t worry,” Clarke raised an eyebrow but acquiesced. 

“I want to see my daughter."

"Hmm, yes, I am sure you would, but now is a time for questions, Miss Griffin. “How did you come to acquire such a creature?”

Hearing Lexa referred to as a creature made Clarke's blood boil.

“My daughter is the only thing that kept me going."

“Oh yes, such sweet sentiments from a mother; that is not what I am looking for. Miss Griffin, try again.”

The Doc’s steely gaze never left angry blues.

“I gave birth to her."

“How,”

“how most humans do,”

“She is not human,” the doctor cut in

“She is part of me she is human." A growl made it out of Clarke's throat.

“This creature is unearthly-the doctor insisted.

Clarke moved so fast that nobody could stop her. She twisted the doctor's arm behind her and held the syringe to her throat. The other hazmat-suited individuals froze, not knowing what to do.

"Call my daughter a creature again, and I will end you," Clarke threatened, her voice laced with a dangerous edge.

The doctor stiffened in Clarke's grasp, her eyes wide with fear. "Now," Clarke's voice shook with anger. "Let me see my daughter."

The doctor struggled in Clarke's grasp and then signaled to another person in a hazmat suit who left the room.

“Alright, but know we are far from done here, Miss Griffin. No one knows that you’re here. To them, you are still missing.” The doctor broke out of Clarke's grasp and walked out of the room, taking the cold atmosphere with her.

____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke collapsed on the floor as adrenaline seeped from her bones. She was so close! so close to being reunited with her mother, and now she was caged once again. Silent tears cascaded down her round cheeks.

A person who looked to be in a suit came into the examination room.

“Who are you?" The words were dark coming out of the young girl.

"My name is Zion," the man said, standing at a distance. He looked to be in his mid-30s.

"I am your caseworker. I am sorry about how they have treated you so far."

“I’m more or less used to it." The man winced inwardly at the flippant confession.

"Well, I have something that you may want to see." Clarke looked up, intrigued.

“There’s a change of clothes for you on the chair over there. I’ll wait outside your door once you're done. There’s someone who has been waiting for you. "

The man left the room, “How does she look exactly the same” He was another person who had followed the Clarke Griffin missing saga, and now he got to look at the girl that many thought was dead. He had to remind himself to stay professional.

Clarke never changed so fast in her life, though the styles were a little different. That wasn't the most important thing on her mind. Walking out of her room, she met Zion, who motioned for her to follow him. They walked through corridor after corridor, finally arriving in a small room. Zion pushed open the door, motioning for Clarke to look.

Clarke's heart leapt there; in the corner was Lexa.

“Lexa baby,”

The little head full of platinum hair moved, creating a shimmering halo around a delicate face. Clarke cautiously entered the dimly lit room, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. As she knelt in front of the little girl, her eyes filled with tears.

"It's mommy,"

Clarke whispered, her voice laced with emotion. Suddenly, the small body launched itself into Clarke's arms, surprising her with its force. She had to steady herself to avoid toppling over from the unexpected impact.
Happy tears cascaded down Clarke's cheeks as she held her daughter tight, overwhelmed with relief and joy. She kissed the little girl's head repeatedly, cherishing the touch of those soft, platinum locks. 

Clarke held her daughter up, a rush of emotions flooded her being, carefully inspecting  her, looking for any signs of harm or mistreatment. A small, innocent voice whispered in Clarke's head, barely audible but distinct. 

"You came."

Clarke's heart broke at the weight of those two words. They held the pain of separation, and the fear of abandonment. She squeezed her daughter tighter, desperately trying to convey her love and regret with the embrace alone.

 "I'm sorry, baby," 

Clarke whispered, her voice trembling with guilt. "Mommy should have been there for you sooner.

"Mommy's right here," Clarke continued, mustering as much strength as she could. "And I will never let you go again.”  _________________________________________________________________________

Zion quietly closed the door behind him, leaving the little family to share a moment of privacy. As he walked away, he couldn't help but feel a swelling of emotions in his chest. It was a peculiar situation, one he never would've imagined himself in.

Studying social work had exposed Zion to a vast array of human struggles, but nothing had prepared him for this. In the room behind him, a girl who had never aged and an alien hybrid embraced each other tightly, their bond evident and unbreakable. It was his duty to ensure that their unique connection found its place within the world. 

  “I’ll make sure to get you guys out of here. "

Chapter Text

It was 3 a.m. when the phones started ringing. Finally, after six missed calls, the man answered.

"Zion Harbour," he groggily said. Sleep was evident in his voice.

A stern voice replied on the other end. "Be ready in 10 minutes."

The call ended abruptly, leaving the young man confused. As he tried to make sense of what he had just heard, a text message came through. "Scratch that. 5 minutes."

Jumping out of bed, Zion hastily pulled on his pants, buttoned a shirt, and grabbed a briefcase. Just as he was about to rush out, a knock on the door startled him. Opening the door with haste, the chilly night air hit him, making him shiver.

"What is this about? And who are you?"

He asked the mysterious man standing before him. The man shoved a folder into Zion's hands and held up a badge.

"I am Agent Grant. Read this and follow me."

Zion barely had time to lock up his apartment, as he found himself being pulled into an unmarked van. Confusion flooded his mind as he asked again,

"What is this about?"

"We had an arrival," Agent Grant spoke cryptically. "Open the folder."

Zion opened the folder, revealing pages filled with text. The words caught his attention.

"Local Girl Missing: Clarke Griffin." The document was dated back to 1992.

"You found her body?"

"Keep looking," Agent Grant replied.

As Zion scanned the document, his eyes fell on a picture of a young blond girl huddled in a blanket. She looked suspiciously like the missing Clarke Griffin. "Is that..."

"Yup," Agent Grant confirmed.

Zion studied the photo intently, noticing a smaller body next to Clarke. "Whose..."

"We don't know. That's going to be part of your job. But they are inseparable. There's no DNA on the little girl, but the markers show she's related to Clarke."

"How is that possible?" Zion asked, perplexed.

"Honestly, it beats me," Agent Grant replied, getting interrupted by a phone call. He ended the conversation with a simple "Grant."

Zion poured over the document, trying to make sense of everything. All he could think was, 

They never trained me for this in school.

____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke cuddled with Lexa in the new room once again, not knowing what time it was. All she knew was that she had missed twelve years of her life. Lexa was peacefully asleep, suckling softly, while Clarke's thoughts consumed her. In the warmth of their embrace, Clarke's mind wandered to the memories she had lost. Her dog Bentley, the faithful companion who had been by her side since she was a child, would have been fifteen years old now. The realization that he was no longer alive weighed heavily on her heart.

Her thoughts then turned to her friends, the people who had once been her lifeline. Were they all married now, living their lives, and moving forward without her? Had they forgotten her? The thought left an emptiness in Clarke's chest. But the pain intensified when she thought about her parents. She imagined them growing older, perhaps their hair now graying, their smiles wearing the lines of time. Her heart ached, not knowing if they were even still together. And here she was, trapped, unable to contact her loved ones.

Time passed, and Clarke felt the tugging on her nipple lessen until it stopped. Lexa was finally in a deep sleep. She adjusted herself and pulled Lexa even closer, determined not to sleep herself, too nervous to be caught once again unaware.

A knock was heard on the door.

“Miss Griffin,”

Clarke let herself relax just the tiniest bit and motioned him into the room.

"I have questions for you, but I figured you would like to freshen up and eat," the social worker explained. The young man looked at his watch and exclaimed, "It's already 2 p.m.? Wow, time moves fast."
As soon as the words escaped his lips, the social worker winced. Clarke sensed his discomfort.

“That it does,” she softly echoed.

"Yes, well, it is 2 p.m. There is a shower available, and we can bring you guys some food."

All Clarke wanted at that moment was her mother's cooking, but the pinch of hunger was getting harder to ignore. "Eggs and maybe two pancakes," she requested.

"Got it. See you in a bit," the social worker replied, disappearing as quickly as he had arrived.

She felt a sense of limbo, unsure of what her life would become.

Clarke rolled on her back, memorizing the patterns in the popcorn ceiling. Are there any patterns, or maybe I’m just going crazy ?

She felt a sense of limbo, unsure of what her life would become. Pushing the questions down, Clarke gently shook Lexa awake.

"Hey, love,"

She whispered, peppering the little girl's face with kisses. Lexa let out a small whine, still clinging to her dream-filled slumber.

"I know, love, but it's time to get up."

The little girl raised her hands, making a silent request to be picked up. Clarke scooped her up, venturing into the small bathroom provided. Lexa still clung to her, so Clarke was left to hold her up while in the shower. The running water caused steam to envelop the room, creating a comforting atmosphere. But Clarke knew time had other commitments for them. Stopping the water, she dried them off thoroughly. Putting Lexa's hair in a braid and giving her a braided halo, they step out into the room to see a tray of food.

“Pancakes, mmm, don’t they look yummy?” She tried enticing her daughter, but Lexa wanted none of it.

"C'mon, baby, you got to eat something.” Clarke was able to get Lexa to eat some fruits. That was one thing she knew the little girl couldn’t resist. While they ate, she watched lavender eyes explore the room they were in. It looked to be a modified hospital room, just a bit friendlier.

A few minutes later the door opened.

“I see you have eaten a little. Would you be up to answering a few of my questions?" The young man felt sorry for probing the young woman so soon, but questions needed to be answered if he had any hope of helping them.

Clarke gave a small nod.

As he sat down, Lexa squeezed in closer to Clarke.

“What is your name?” Zion asked, with his pen poised over the notepad.

Clarke rolled her eyes slightly before replying, "Clarke Griffin."

"And how old are you?" Zion scribbled down her answer.

"17... well, 29?" Clarke's voice trailed off uncertainly. The number tasted weird on her tongue.
Zion offered a reassuring smile.

“Sorry,”

"No, it’s fine,” the social worker assured her.

"Do you remember anything when you disappeared?" Zion continued, his voice gentle yet eager for any information Clarke could provide. Clarke felt as if she was suddenly plunged into a cold, dark pool, forced to revisit the day. She grew silent, lost in her thoughts. Sensing her unease, Zion called out her name, "Clarke..."

The words hung empty in the room, and Clarke snapped back to reality. "Sorry. I'm... I'm okay." She wiped away a stray tear, her emotions still raw.

Clarke took a deep breath, summoning the strength to recount her experience.

"She dropped me off at the corner of the street, near my house, and suddenly I felt faint. I think I called out for her, but then I must have passed out. I woke up in some white room."

"I was scared, so scared."

Clarke admitted, her voice trembling. Zion handed her a handkerchief as she wiped her eyes, almost angrily.

"They said..." Clarke paused, her voice almost a whisper.

“They the people that took you?” Zion leaned in, fully attentive to every word.

"...they weren't people," Clarke interrupted, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and awe. 

"They were creatures, aliens... my tormentors."

Zion listened with rapt attention, realizing the vastness of what Clarke had experienced.

"What did they call you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“They called me experiment 645."

____________________________________________________________________________

In another room full of cameras and mics, Doctor Coralleus smiled with a sick type of glee.

Finally, I have a clue!

____________________________________________________________________________

Abby had just finished a long day of shopping. Thanksgiving was approaching, and she had her hands full of bags, struggling to make her way back to her car. These were difficult times, and finding reasons to be thankful seemed like an uphill battle. However, Jake, her loving partner, had suggested they still celebrate, reminding her to cherish the good times. As Abby trudged across the busy parking lot, she noticed a police officer writing something on a small piece of paper. Panic set in as she realized he was placing it under her car's windshield wiper. Hastily, she rushed towards him, begging,

"No, wait, sir! I was only inside for 15 minutes! My parking timer—"

The officer looked up, disregarding her plea, and swiftly placed the paper under her wiper before she could finish her sentence and zoomed away. Frustrated, Abby hurried over to her car, hoping to catch him. But as she glanced at the paper, her words caught in her throat. It wasn't an ordinary parking ticket. It was a note.

"She's alive."

Groceries were forgotten, and the bags slipped from Abby's trembling hands. Her heart raced, the world around her momentarily fading away. She scanned the surroundings, her eyes desperate to catch a glimpse of the police car. Yet it had vanished, leaving behind only a lingering sense of curiosity and hope.

Was it some kind of cruel joke, or could it be genuine? Her heart clung to a glimmer of hope that her beloved Clarke was still alive.

Overwhelmed with emotions, Abby whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of fear and determination.

"My baby, my Clarke..."

Chapter Text

Tick tock The room echoed with the sound, keeping Clarke awake. Dr. Coralleus had given her pills to boost her memory, but now she couldn't find sleep. The doctor's stern voice broke the silence, demanding answers.

"The sooner you tell me what you were doing up there, the sooner we’ll let you go.”

"I doubt that,” the words were mumbled.

The doctor's blank stare only intensified the tension in the room.

They were once again not provided with a calendar Clarke took to marking a spot behind the bed with tally marks of days. So far, they had already been here for 15 days. Clarke didn't want to disrupt her routine with Lexa, as it was the only thing she had known so far. They would wake up, do their morning affirmations, have a feed, and engage in an activity together.

Clarke dared not talk about the mental link she shared with her daughter. A knock on the door made her tense.

"Come in”

The door creaked open, and it was Zion.

“Hey,” he whispered out.

Clarke could tell he was uncomfortable.

"Do they need us for anything?” Clarke glanced worriedly toward the little girl sleeping.

“N-no” he waved her off

"I am actually here for you.”

“ Me?” Clarke instinctively curled her legs towards herself, unsure of what to expect next. 

Zion's cautious gestures indicated the presence of surveillance cameras.

"I shouldn’t be doing this, but I honestly do not know how long they will keep you here, and I know you have family.”

He discreetly showed Clarke his notepad, revealing the words that brought a mix of relief and disbelief.

I found your mother, and we are doing everything to get you out.

The air caught in Clarke's throat, her emotions overwhelming her.

“You- you got”

Zion's threatening gaze silenced her. She nodded and fought to regain control of her trembling breath.

"I'm glad I had the chance to meet you, Clarke, despite the unfortunate circumstances," the social worker conveyed, maintaining steady eye contact. They both acknowledged the less-than-ideal situation they were in.

"Okay, I'll let you go back to sleep. I apologize for the interruption," the young man hurriedly excused himself, offering a lopsided smile. At that moment, Clarke's mind found an unusual sense of calm.

They know I’m here…” she whispered to herself, a glimmer of hope piercing through the darkness.

The thought calmed her enough to join her daughter in the land of dreams.

_________________________________________________________________________

Back at the Griffens household, Abby has found herself going crazy. After the incident of finding the note that Clarke was alive on her car, a new fire was lit under her.

"I always knew she didn't just disappear, Jake," Abby exclaimed, while Jake looked at the note repeatedly.

"So, what's our next move?" Jake asked, placing his hands on Abby's shoulders to get her attention. . "I knew she couldn't have just vanished, Jake.”

"It seems whoever has her wants us to know that she's alive, but nothing more," Abby replied, brainstorming ideas.

"We need to be more vigilant, Jake. Maybe we'll stumble upon another clue or hear some gossip in town," she suggested.

"I have a friend in the army who might be able to help. Even though I'm a civilian now, I have some favors owed to me," Jake added.

Overwhelmed with emotions, Abby captured her husband's lips in a chaste kiss, tears overflowing. 

"We might see our little girl again.”

With the pad of his thumb, he gently brushed away her tears. 

"I'm incredibly proud of you for never losing hope," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

"There were moments when I felt like giving up, but you never faltered, my love."

Abby's eyes shimmered with the same mix of exhaustion and joy, mirroring her husband's feelings.

____________________________________________________________________________

After a tiring day of tests and appointments with doctors and psychologists, Clarke and Lexa finally had some time to themselves. They settled in and found a TV, where Clarke chose a show called The Backyardigans. Lexa snuggled up to her mom, seeking comfort, and Clarke gently kissed her forehead. She frowned Pressing her lips against Lexa's head again, feeling slight heat.

Worried, Clarke asked, "Are you feeling alright, sweetie?" Lexa nodded her little head and snuggled closer to Clarke.

But as the evening went on, Clarke noticed that Lexa seemed less energetic than usual. Even during their nighttime feeding, Lexa kept unlatching, which was unusual because Clarke knew how much Lexa enjoyed feeding.

Clarke tucked her precious girl into bed, her platinum hair slightly damp with sweat. Clarke felt nervous as she realized she hadn't dealt with a seriously ill Lexa before. Sure, Lexa had experienced colic like most babies, but this was different. Clarke stayed awake that night, keeping a close eye on her daughter with growing concern.

As the clock rounded to 8 a.m., Clarke went to wake Lexa.

“Hey baby, suns up.”

But no response

Clarke attempted to wake Lexa once more, but there was no response from her daughter. 

“Lexa” Alarm painted her voice.

With her limited medical knowledge, Clarke assessed her daughter's condition. Lexa's forehead was covered in sweat; she appeared pale, but her temperature felt warm when Clarke touched her. Panicked, Clarke scooped up her daughter and rushed out of the room, desperately calling for help.

“Help anybody!”

As Clarke carried Lexa's limp body in her arms, a person in scrubs came into her view and directed her toward a pediatric crib. Following their guidance, Clarke carefully placed Lexa down. Overwhelmed, all Clarke could do was gently stroke Lexa's hair and watch as the medical staff swiftly attended to her. 

Amidst the flurry of voices, one voice stated, "Her temperature is 104.4 F."

There were mentions of "retractions," and the medical personnel quickly put on Lexa's gown and attached little heart monitor lines. Someone took a sample of mucus and hurriedly sent it to the lab. The room remained bustling for what felt like an eternity until it eventually became quiet. Just Clarke holding her daughter's hand sobbing for her to be alright.

“I can’t have gone through this just to lose her. Please, whoever is out there, she needs to be okay.”

After what seemed like forever, a throat cleared behind her.

"Miss Griffin," they called out gently. She turned around, her eyes filled with tears, and locked her gaze with a pair of serious brown eyes.

"We believe your daughter has the Influenza... thankfully," the doctor told her.

"Thankfully?" she questioned, her voice trembling.

"Well," the doctor explained, "it appears to be influenza A, which is what typically occurs during flu season. The only concern is that we're not sure how your daughter's unique system will react to it on a microbial level. While she has inherited some human traits, we can't predict her response to the virus. All we can do is provide fluids put her on seizure precautions and ibuprofen PRN."

Clarke had been so eager to return to Earth that she hadn't anticipated how the planet's environment would impact someone who wasn't native to it.

"Thank you," she managed to say, gratitude lacing her words.
 

The doctor offered a small half-smile, but regret colored their expression. "I'm sorry we can't do more," they said sincerely.

As Clarke became aware that she was left alone again, she gazed at her daughter. Hoping, and praying that they would make it through this.

As the day went on, Zion came by with a breast pump for Clarke and wished Lexa a speedy recovery.

Hours passed, and Clarke started to feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety and fear creeping in. When she briefly stepped out of the room, it felt as if something was urgently calling her back. But the moment Clarke held Lexa's hand in hers, a wave of peace washed over her. With all her love, she kissed Lexa's tiny hand.

“I’m right here, love,” fully aware that she was feeling all of her daughter's emotions as well.

____________________________________________________________________________

The next day, the fever persisted but had slightly decreased to 101.3, remaining at that level. Lexa drifted in and out of awareness. The laboratory staff managed to insert an NG tube into Lexa when she was awake for a brief period. Clarke's heart felt heavy as she heard the distressed cries coming from Lexa's vulnerable body as they struggled with the tube insertion.

Suddenly, a cold voice echoed in the room.

“Well Well”

If Clarke had hackles, they would have risen.

Doctor Coralleus began, questioning the absence of any updates regarding the last dose of medication Clarke had been given.

“I was wondering why I haven’t heard any reports from the last dose of pills you were given.”

Clarke bristled at the disrespectful approach.

“But here I find you, treating our little experiment with care."

Clarke's anger simmered as she firmly told the doctor, "I told you to treat her with respect." However, the doctor seemed unfazed and dismissively rolled her eyes. Unveiling some intriguing findings, the doctor continued,

"As you know, we collected samples from both of you, including skin, blood, and hair..."

"And you have a point?" words spoken with a bite of sarcasm

Leaning in, the doctor confidently stated, "We have discovered something fascinating."

As the doctor droned on, Clarke watched the monitors the EKG showed Lexa falling into some arrhythmias.

“ Telomeres are the protective caps at the ends of the chromosomes in the human genome. They are like the closed end of a shoelace and keep our chromosomes intact. Each time a cell divides, a piece of telomere is lost, so the more cells divide and the older we get, the shorter the chromosome ends become. When a certain length is reached, cells enter a resting phase and stop dividing. These cells can then die or even cause inflammation, which accelerates the aging process and triggers disease A special enzyme called telomerase prevents telomere shortening and can even restore telomere length. However, with the exception of our germ line, most cells in our body do not express telomerase. This is a precaution against the development of cancer cells, Most diploid cells lose telomerase with each cell division and therefore have a limited lifespan they usually decrease with a rate of  24.8–27.7 base pairs per year.”

"Even her DNA, though slightly degraded from its time on earth, remains largely untampered. While our DNA suffers damage up to a million times a day, our cells possess remarkable detection and repair systems that swiftly fix most of it. Yet, these mechanisms, although highly efficient, aren't flawless, leaving behind a small fraction of unrepaired damage. That's when the accumulation of DNA damage takes its toll as we age, leading to various unwelcome effects."

"However, when it comes to the child,"

The doctor points towards Lexa. "Her DNA is nothing short of extraordinary. Despite her illness, her B cells and T cells are adapting with such finesse to the ever-changing earth biome, acting as guardians to shield her. It seems this may be the sole occasion where she's SICK the new environment acting more as a shock on her system.” the doctor pondered.

Clarke whirled around.

“I have enough to worry about besides your mumbling. Just tell me what this means, or leave me alone. Exhaustion existed in every crevice of Clarke's body; she couldn't take much more.

The doctor straightened herself, looking directly at the young mother.

"Lexa, your daughter's base pairs have only decreased by 12," she explained calmly.
Confused, Clarke responded with a baffled "Wha?"

The doctor continued, "In simpler terms, your daughter is, essentially, immortal."

The words echoed in Clarke's mind. 

IMMORTAL

"She has certainly grown, Miss Griffin, but her molecular growth differs from that of Earth. While physically she will grow, it will be at a much slower rate than that of an average human being."
The words left Clarke in anguish. 

"She'll be all alone," she uttered, devastated. Observing the young mother sinking into the chair beside her little girl's bed.

"Perhaps not." Coralleus interrupted

"During the tests, we discovered that your genetic makeup has also suffered a slowdown. Your physical body resembles that of a 19-year-old rather than a 29-year-old. So, while you aged in terms of appearance, whoever took you managed to slow down your overall growth. You've only experienced two years of physical development during the 12 years you were away."

"Please stop," Clarke pleaded, struggling to focus solely on her breathing. "This is too overwhelming."

Dr. Coralleus continued.

"Unfortunately, when we endeavor to separate your DNA strands from the familiar surroundings of your biological material, they drop dead faster than a city squirrel running from a dog. We are unable to preserve or replicate any of your genetic material. It's as if a fail-safe mechanism was encoded into your system, which is incredibly frustrating. I'm this close to a groundbreaking scientific breakthrough. THIS CLOSE!"

As the doctor laments her predicament, all Clarke can do is focus on her heartbeat, the reassuring beat that is keeping her alive. A beat that connects her to her mother, her daughter, her past, and her future. A beat that was now scientifically proven would not stop anytime soon.

____________________________________________________________________________

Doctor Coralleus has had a bad day. The first thing she spilled was her protein drink on her dress. forcing her to quickly change. As if that wasn't enough, her car stubbornly refused to start, causing her to arrive late at the lab. And just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, she was informed that her precious specimens, crucial for her research, were unavailable due to the unresponsiveness of the elusive Creature/Child.

To add insult to injury, Dr. Coralleus found herself facing a limitless opportunity for a groundbreaking discovery—relative immortality—right in front of her yet unable to access it. It was beyond frustrating. No matter what environment or conditions she tried, be it negative pressure, carbon depletion, anaerobic setting, or highly acidic surroundings, her samples would simply wither away. These delicate specimens were destined to live only within their hosts. So coming home to her girlfriend was a welcome calm.

As Dr. Coralleus settled down on the couch, her girlfriend curiously asked about her day at work.

“You know, I can’t tell you much, but it's annoying and exhausting.”

Her girlfriend sympathized, acknowledging that most jobs tend to be a source of annoyance and fatigue. However, amidst their conversation, something on television caught the doctor's attention. 

"Wait, can you turn up the volume?”

"On the massive 150-inch screen was a woman showing a picture of a girl, the woman's name.

ABBY GRIFFIN

“We know she is alive and close; whoever has my daughter has their reckoning coming for them.”

“How the fuck!" "That’s so sad.”

Dr. Coralleus and her girlfriend shared different reactions, one struck by disbelief and the other overwhelmed by sorrow. Resolute, the doctor collected herself, making sure her expression betrayed nothing.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, she embraced her girlfriend tenderly, reflecting a facade of empathy. 

“Yeah, it’s so sad, c'mere, babe.”

Deep down, she contemplated the unfortunate soul who would become her target the next day for leaking sensitive information. This incident demanded justice, and that was precisely what Dr. Coralleus was determined to deliver."

Chapter Text

"Unacceptable!"

Dr. Coralleus exclaimed, her voice echoing down the hallway. Zion, on his daily visit to Clarke and Lexa in the makeshift ward, couldn't help but notice the commotion. It seemed the guards had surrounded the doctor, and she was clearly not pleased. Zion had a feeling that he was somehow involved in her wrath.

As Zion spent more time with Clarke, he learned more about her situation and gathered evidence to share with her mother. Clarke seemed trapped in yet another prison. A clever plan formed in Zion's mind, and he managed to sneak out a grainy photo of Clarke. Passing it along to his friends in the police force and social work field, one of whom had connections to the media, the photo soon made its way to the local news.

Anonymously, the photo was shared, prompting a call for anyone connected to the missing girl, Clarke Griffin, to come forward. Abby, Clarke's mother, found herself on television advocating for her daughter's safe return.

“We know she is alive and close; whoever has my daughter has their reckoning coming for them.”

The words, though with no real threat behind them, sent a message to whomever had Clarke. And so, Zion's actions set off a chain of events that would hopefully lead to Clarke's rescue.

Zion continued his journey down the hall slower than normal because he wanted the tea.

"We've been given an ultimatum: destroy, suspend, or negotiate," a man in uniform stated.
The doctor's voice rose in frustration, "I'm on the brink of a groundbreaking scientific breakthrough, and you want me to just give up?"

The uniformed officer let out a groan, "This unexpected attention is making it impossible to keep them captive. The girl's parents are probably already on their way, and who knows, immigration might want to join the party too."

He stood up decisively, "We're letting the girl and the child go tomorrow. Dr. Corralleus, get your things in order now. That's an order."
The defeated doctor reluctantly nodded, "Yes, sir." The words were gritted out, full of bitterness.

“Now this isn’t a complete loss, ma'am,” the officer said with a reassuring smile. "Even though she's being sent home, we'll still be keeping an eye on her. She'll have to come in for monthly check-ins. We can't just let an alien roam freely, can we? This is America, after all, not a free-for-all zone." With a somewhat sinister chuckle, the man left the room, prompting Zion to hasten his steps toward Clarke and Lexa's hospital room. Knocking on the door, he was welcomed inside by Clarke, who had just finished tending to Lexa's needs after a week and a half of feeling under the weather.

A soft smile appeared on Clarke's face as seeing who was at the door.

"Zion, what’s up? Do we have a session right now? It’s kind of early…”

Clarke's voice trailed off as she noticed the eager look on Zion's face, hinting at a secret waiting to be revealed.

“Zion??” She asked, a mix of curiosity and confusion in her voice.

"Okay, I probably shouldn't be telling you this yet, but!" He moved a chair closer to Clarke.

"You're getting out of here."

"What?" Surprise flickered in her blue eyes.

"I overheard General Stinler speaking with Dr. Coralleus... They’re setting you free.”

"Are you certain?" Her words were shaky, but filled with hope.

“Whatever we did,” Zion took a gamble and grabbed Clarke's hand softly to squeeze it. “You’re free.”

Tears welled up in Clarke's eyes, threatening to fall.

I’m going home.

Mommy, don’t cry.

The voice echoed in Clarke's mind as she pulled Lexa closer to her.

Mommy is just happy.

Zion, unaware of their exchange, watched the duo with a sense of relief. "Well, I'll leave you be. See you later tonight for your final session," he bid Clarke farewell before slipping out of the room, narrowly avoiding the murderous glare of Dr. Coralleus as she passed him in the hallway.

____________________________________________________________________________

The day seemed to drag on for Clarke. She took Lexa out around the little courtyard they were allowed to be in before being escorted to the lab for the rest of the day. The scientist's determined to get something out of Lexa and her, but to no avail. In some ways, Clarke felt a little smug that their experiments were going nowhere.

It was after Clarke had eaten supper with Lexa and was reading a story with her that the door burst open. A group of officers flooded into the room. 

“CLARKE GRIFFIN,” a voice boomed, and Clarke couldn’t help but flinch.

“Thank you for your cooperation with the US Government, but we find your time here with us is up. Gather what you want and follow us.” 

The young woman was more or less shoved into the fray as they filed out of the room. Clarke felt a hand grasp hers, and she tried to yank it away.

“Shh, it’s me, Zion. Just keep walking.” They made their way to a long corridor, Lexa clinging to her mother as Clarke clutched her in her other arm. 

Clarke felt something push into her hand. “If you ever need me, you’ll find me,” Zion whispered before getting pulled away. She squeezed Lexa close to her, feeling a surge of fear as a voice instructed them to put on blindfolds for the rest of the extraction.

"I’m sorry, ma'am, but I need to put this blindfold on you and your daughter for the rest of the extraction." 

Though Clarke's heart clenched with apprehension, she knew this was their only chance at freedom. She whispered words of reassurance to her daughter, “We’ll be okay." “Just hold onto me tight and don’t let go.”

With blindfolds secured, they were transported in every direction, feeling the movement beneath them.

"Step up," a commanding voice called out, and suddenly they were in a car, journeying onwards with no idea of their destination. Clarke dared not ask, instead focusing on staying composed for Lexa. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as they traveled until, finally, the car slowed to a stop.

"Step out," they were told. She was ushered inside a building with a blast of cold air and instructed to wait in a room. They finally took the blindfolds off and Clarke found herself in a small examination room like at a doctor's office, but as she looked around, she finally pieced out where she was. The color scheme of the fliers on the wall, and through the glass, she saw a welcome sign.

Welcome to Albion Health

________________________________________________________________________

Dec 16th 2004

Thanksgiving had passed for Lexa, but she found herself feeling less thankful than usual. Despite her successful career and friends, there was still a void in her heart where her best friend and love should be. As she headed to work, she was met with urgency in Aaya's voice.

"Lexa, we need you for damage control. This could spiral out of hand," Aaya exclaimed.

Now racing into work, Lexa couldn't help but notice the dozens of intimidating black SUVs in the garage. With the private elevator shut down, she made her way to a group of people in suits.

"Why can't the CFO gain access to her own building?" Lexa demanded, flashing her badge. The agent stuttered, 

"You are Lexa Woods, Albion's CFO. My apologies, ma'am. Let me take you to Agent Danza for an update on the situation."

"Agent Danza at your service," the man bellowed as he firmly shook Lexa's hand.

"We regret the inconvenience to your hospital, but we have a high-profile patient who must be housed here for the time being," he explained.

"Who is this?" Lexa's question was abruptly interrupted.

"It's classified, but we need your help to maintain peace between us and the public. You'll also need to speak with some other agents. Follow me; I'll take you where you're needed," the agent stated before turning and striding away, leaving Lexa no choice but to trail behind.

As they hurried inside, Lexa caught a glimpse of a shock of blonde hair through a small examination room window that sparked a memory. Her heart raced as she strained to see more, but the blonde vanished before she could do so.

Could it be? I haven't seen that blonde since... Clarke. The thought raced through her mind, filling her with hope as her heart quickened with excitement.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

At this point, Abby was busy preparing the house for the festive Christmas season, adorning it with the beautiful ornaments that Clarke had crafted over her school years. Suddenly, a familiar whine echoed from below.

"Heeeyy boy."

Bentley, their senior 15-year-old Aussie Lab mix, who was partially blind in one eye and boasted a slow, elderly gait, shuffled up to Abby, seeking affection. Abby showered him with kisses, knowing that he had always been Clarke's faithful companion since she was a little girl. At that moment, Abby wished she could convey to him the reason why his beloved human was no longer with them.

"I miss her too, boy," she whispered softly. The dog responded by licking her face, eliciting a smile from Abby. Just then, the phone began to ring. Abby hesitated for a moment, recalling the painful memories of the prank calls she had received in the early days of Clarke's disappearance—taunting messages claiming they had found her daughter or cruelly insisting that she was delusional and that Clarke was no more.

After the fifth ring, Abby finally answered the call, her voice laced with trepidation.

"Griffin Residence, Abby speaking."

“This is Albion Health downtown you need to come to campus as soon as possible”

“I'm not on call today is my day off.”

“We understand, Dr. Griffin, but your presence is urgently required. Bring your husband as well.” The line went dead.

Nervously, she approached her husband's office door, feeling anxiety creeping up her spine. 

"Jake," she called out, her voice wavering as he spun around to look at her. It had been a while since he had seen Abby this nervous.

"Abby...?" He stood up slowly, a look of concern on his face as he embraced his wife. "What's wrong?"

"The hospital needs us both," Abby explained, her words cutting off her husband's assumptions. 

"I'm not on call, but they requested our presence." Jake's brow furrowed in confusion. "What could this be about?"

The words stuck in Abby's throat, unable to escape. "What if... what if it's bad news?"

"We'll face it together," Jake reassured her, planting a kiss on her forehead before wiping away his own tears. "I'll get the car ready."

Abby looked up at the ceiling, OH god please don’t let this be what I think it is.

Chapter Text

The glaring lights-oh, how Clarke wished they could be dimmed. She squeezed Lexa's hand and felt her tenseness, but with no idea of how long they would be in this room, she decided not to let her nurse quite yet.

The door swung open, and an agent walked in with a doctor. Despite his exhausted appearance, Clarke recognized those eyes immediately—Dr. Kane.

"Dr. Kane..." she whispered in disbelief. Kane was John Murphy's adopted father, a familiar face from the hospital where they spent many nights waiting for their parents to finish their shifts.

"Clarke," he said softly, his surprise evident.

The day had taken a strange turn for the general physician, going from examining rashes to attending to a VIP patient in this mysterious room. Here he was, face-to-face with this VIP patient, who happened to be his coworker's long-lost daughter. She looked exactly the same as she did at their kids' high school graduation.

He had seen how Clarke's absence broke down Abby, but now her child was sitting right in front of him.  

Suddenly, he found himself engulfed in blonde hair and tears as he held the girl while she cried.

"Dr. Kane, I-I can't believe..." Her sentence was lost in sobs. "Oh, Clarke," he murmured, tears welling in his own eyes as he held her close.

Overcome with emotion, he held her tightly, feeling a surge of paternal protectiveness. He had always looked out for Abby and her daughter, assisting with school runs while Jake was away on deployment. He would like to consider himself a pseudo-stepfather. 

“How- when”

As he studied her tear-streaked face, his questions were interrupted by a whimper from a chair in the corner. Clarke turned around, walked to the chair, and picked up the little girl. 

“Dr. Kane, this is my daughter Lexa.”

Daughter? Lexa? She's so small, and Clarke is so young! What is happening?

His mind was filled with unspoken questions, but the weariness in Clarke's blue eyes told him to hold off on asking them. Instead, he turned his attention to the little girl in front of him, holding her pudgy hands and eliciting a sweet smile. The unexpected sight of her purple eyes caught his attention. Purple eyes? Now that's a rarity!  

"Nice to meet you, Miss Lexa. You have a wonderful mother, and I hope to see you again soon," he said. Clarke couldn't help but grin as he interacted with her daughter.

“Have you seen?”

“Your mother is on her way," Dr. Kane reassured Clarke. “I’m just here to do a brief look over both of you if that’s okay.”

Clarke nodded and let him do a quick examination. Once it was over, Kane remained seated.

"You have no idea how much you've been missed, Clarke. Your mother never gave up hope of finding you," he said, his voice catching. "Thank you for not letting her fight be in vain." 

Tears welled up in both their eyes as they held hands. Just then, his pager beeped.

"She's here. I'll go and bring her in. Hopefully, I'll see you again soon, Clarke," he said before leaving.

She gave him a brief nod and a smile that finally reached her eyes. 

"Markus, I missed you too,” her voice filled with sincerity. His heart swelled with joy at the sound of his name. Planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, he made his exit. 

Clarke, on the other hand, was left feeling emotionally drained from their encounter, unsure of how she would navigate the reunion with her mother.

___________________________________________________________________________

Abby and her husband dashed into the hospital, only to be whisked away towards the triage room by people in fancy suits. 

“What’s all this about? Why did you summon us here?” Jake demanded, 

An intimidating man walked up to them, offering his hand. “I’m Agent Garza we found something that may be of interest to both of you.”

Abby's voice trembled as she asked, "Is this about Clarke?" However, her question went unanswered as the agent led them to a closed room. Standing outside was Dr. Kane.

"Markus, why are you here?" Jake and Abby greeted him with a quick hug, noticing tears in his eyes.
"Just go inside the room, and you'll understand," Markus urged with a small smile, nodding towards the closed door. Abby glanced at him puzzled. 

"Just take a peek," he urged.

____________________________________________________________________________

As the door swung open, Abby and Jake paused in their steps, unsure of what news awaited them on the other side. There, on the examination table, sat a young woman with blonde hair cradling a chubby baby in her arms. Their eyes met, and it was as if time stood still.
Abby's heart skipped a beat, Jake felt a chill in his chest, and Clarke's world suddenly felt alive again. 

"Mom."  The title came out tearfully, the blonde slipped off the table, her body trembling with emotion.

"Oh, my darling Clarke," Abby cried out, rushing into her daughter's arms. In a whirlwind of emotions, Abby and Clarke embraced, their arms desperately clinging to each other. Tears flowed freely, and words of love and relief were exchanged between them. Clarke's legs gave out as she sank to the ground, overwhelmed by the reunion. 

Jake joined in, enveloping his family in a warm hug, tears streaming down his face as he showered Clarke with kisses.

"My precious baby girl," he whispered, his voice filled with love and relief. 

"Mom, Dad, I kept going." Clarke gasped out the words, tears streaming down her face. "I never gave up."

"We never gave up either, darling," Abby consoled, gently rocking her daughter. "We held onto hope.

The sounds echoing through the cramped room were both heartwarming and heart-wrenching, a symphony of emotion that resonated through the universe.

Abby leaned back and caressed her daughter's face. She couldn't help but notice how little her daughter had changed since the day they lost her. Clarke, in turn, looked at her parents, taking in the signs of aging that she had missed during her absence. Her heart clenched as she noticed the crow's feet at the corner of her parent's eyes and gray streaks in their hair. It pained her to see the exhaustion and relief etched into their features.

"I can't believe I missed it all," Clarke thought, her heart breaking at the sight before her.

As Abby gazed at the young girl/woman in front of her, she noticed a newfound strength emanating from her. Suddenly, the small body wriggled between them, and two sets of eyes looked down at the baby Clarke was holding. The surprise and devastation that crossed her parents' faces did not go unnoticed by Clarke.

“This is my daughter, your granddaughter... Lexa,” Clarke said, her voice trembling. Clarke held her breath, anticipating their reactions. Jake was the first to speak, breaking the tense silence with a light-hearted comment. 

“She drools in her sleep just like you used to when you were a munchkin,” he remarked, prompting a shaky chuckle from Clarke.

"She's stunning, Clarke," he added, running his fingers through Lexa's platinum locks, puzzled by their origin.

Glancing at her mom, Clarke noticed Abby studying the baby with a mix of concentration and curiosity.

"She has your dimple."

 She observed, gently tracing the tiny dimple on the girl's chin, causing her to squirm in her slumber. Abby's voice cracked as she whispered,

"You're a mom,"

 Her gaze locked with Clarke's as silent tears cascaded down her cheeks. Clarke could only manage a small nod in response.

Just then, the agent accompanying Dr. Kane entered the room. 

"As heartwarming as this moment is, we aim to get you both home swiftly." 

With that, Clarke was guided into a waiting vehicle, this time with a sense of peace in her heart.

I’m going home

____________________________________________________________________________

When they arrived at Clarke's childhood home, a wave of emotions flooded her as memories from her past came rushing back. Jake glanced back at his daughter and saw her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. 

"There's someone inside who has been eagerly waiting for you," he said. A strangled laugh escaped Clarke as she replied, 

"Oh god, I'm not sure how much I can handle."

“Trust me, you’ll love this,” Jake assured her.

Under the cover of darkness, the trio snuck inside the house, with agents stationed up and down the street for protection. 

"Let me help." 

Jake said, gently taking Lexa from Clarke's arms and whistling a familiar tune.
No, no, it can’t be! Clarke thought in disbelief. That was the same whistle Jake used to call Bentley when she was a child. Clarke's heart soared with joy as she caught sight of the familiar creature lumbering down the hallway.

"Bentley!" 

Clarke exclaimed, dropping to her knees and clumsily making her way towards the dog. The Australian Shepherd mix sniffed her hand and instantly transformed into a playful puppy once more. His butt wagged furiously as he bounced around, emitting sounds of pure happiness licking the girl all over. Clarke was laughing and crying as her hands sunk into his fur over and over. 

“Ohh Bentley Bentley Bentley,” the words were whispered with a hint of awe. Jake embraced his wife tightly, both reveling in the long-awaited reunion.

"God, he must be at least 15 years old," Clarke remarked, glancing back at her parents.

"Yeah, he's an elderly boy; deep down, he knew you'd come back." Abby choked back tears. 

Clarke stood up, gently taking Lexa from her dad's arms and introducing her loyal companion to her baby. The dog enthusiastically sniffed at the baby, causing her to stir from her nap. Bentley playfully nudged Lexa, causing her to startle and curl into her mother's arms. Bentley's wagging tail never seemed to stop.

"Okay, okay, bub, it’s been quite a day I think it’s time for all of us to get some sleep,” Jake announced.

Clarke agreed as Lexa was starting to let out her hungry whine. “I gotta feed her and get her to bed.”

Jake helped his daughter up and gave her a long hug “Welcome home love.” Kissing her on the cheek, he bid her goodnight. 

"We've kept your room just as you left it," Clarke's mother led her into the familiar space. Posters of Green Day, Princess Bride, Tracy Chapman, and other beloved pop culture icons covered the walls.

"Ah, I see you've made the bed," Clarke playfully jabbed at her mother. "Not exactly the same as I left it."

Abby chuckled, "You know I like things neat." Then her expression turned apologetic. "Sorry, we don't have anything for," she gestured to Lexa.

"No worries, I'll just clear out one of my old drawers." 

Abby gave her daughter a bittersweet smile.

“Yes, well, I’ll leave you to get some sleep.” She pulled Clarke into a long hug inhaling her scent, bringing back memories of when she brought Clarke home from the hospital as a baby. But she was not a baby anymore. Before her stood a strong, capable young woman who had overcome challenges she couldn't even imagine.

"Goodnight, my love," Abby whispered before slipping out of the room.

"Goodnight, Mom," Clarke replied softly as the door clicked shut, leaving her alone with her thoughts from the past few tumultuous days.

Lexa let out a small cry. 

"Alright, I hear you just give me a second. Clarke relaxed into the bed and helped situate Lexa to latch on to her. As Lexa suckled away softly kneading at her breast, Clarke gazed at the ceiling she had stared at countless times over the years, spotting imaginary constellations in the popcorn texture. The rustle of the sheets and the scent of the room - all adding to the sense of calm, peace, and safety. 

“I’m home”

Chapter Text

Abby lay in bed with thoughts running through her mind. Her husband's snoring fell into background noise. How does she look the same? She has a child. I’m a grandma, What happened.? These thoughts swirled in her mind while she thought of her long-lost daughter, who was finally safe and sound back home.

____________________________________________________________________________

In her childhood bedroom, Clarke reminisced about the memories of creating hidden faces and shapes in the popcorn texture on the ceiling. The feeling of being back home was surreal after years and years of torture and loneliness. Glancing at Lexa tucked in her makeshift bed, her old toy chest. * chest had no lid* Clarke knew she had to provide her with a proper sleeping arrangement. As she watched Lexa sleep peacefully, Clarke made a promise  I don’t know what the future holds for us... holds for you little one, but I promise I will do my best to be right there with you. Sleep slowly consumed her body, and she succumbed to the land of Morpheus.

_______________________________________________________________________

"In the grand room, a booming voice echoed, declaring, "Experiment 645, Step Up!" Clarke's eyes were blinded by the bright lights flooding the space.

 Confused, she exclaimed, "What's going on?"

Suddenly, cold metal hands seized her, placing her on a table with unforgiving shackles securing her wrists. She struggled against them desperately.A monotonous robot voice taunted, 

"Resistance is futile."

Tears streamed down her face as she cried, "Where am I? Where's Lexa?"

 A distressing revelation pierced Clarke's heart as she heard, "Experiment 645's successor has been eliminated."

In disbelief, she screamed, "No!”

A mysterious syringe ominously approached her from above filled with yellow liquid.  Fear gripped Clarke as she questioned, 

"What is that?" 

Determined to break free, she pushed against the table, only to be met with additional shackles binding her legs and body.

And then came the fateful words, "Prepare for injection."

The yellow liquid entered her veins, causing searing pain to course through her body. A cry escaped her lips, unnatural and agonizing, her screams were nothing short of otherworldly as the world around her darkened. It was like going from day to night in a flash.

____________________________________________________________________________

With a start, Clarke's azure eyes shot open, the feeling of an elephant sitting on her chest lifted off her. "Lexa!" she gasped, lunging forward to where her daughter slept peacefully. The tightness in her heart eased as she gazed at the beautiful platinum hair in front of her.

1, 2, 3, breathe. Clarke repeated the mantra to herself, reminding herself of who she was and where she was. "I am Clarke Griffin. I am home on Earth. My parents are here with me. Lexa is safe. I am safe."

Feeling a bit shaky, Clarke made her way downstairs for a much-needed glass of water, the cold liquid soothing her rattling chest brought her back to reality as she leaned against the counter. Suddenly, she felt a brush against her leg and looked down to see Bentley, the energetic Aussie mix, looking up at her with his vibrant blue eyes.

“Heyy boy”

She slid down the counter, and he crawled into her lap. Stroking his fur, silent tears poured down her face, slowly turning into sobs. He turned and licked her face, snuggling deeper into her.

Clarke found it hard to catch her breath, feeling as if she were drowning in a sea of emotions. Holding onto Bentley as if he were her salvation, she clung tightly, finding solace in the rhythmic beating of his heart. The scent of his fur transported her to memories of past Christmases, their many escapades, and the countless times he had been her loyal companion. It was overwhelming yet comforting at the same time. It was too much and not enough. Clarke had no idea how long she sat on the floor hugging him, but it was exactly what she needed. She felt herself calming down and slowly nodding off.

Mommy

the words resonated in her mind as she glanced up, discovering lavender eyes shining with a subtle iridescence.

"Hey there, little one," Clarke placed the cup down and headed upstairs with Bentley following closely behind as she scooped up her daughter. 

"You were scared when I was gone, huh?" Clarke Crooned as the small head nodded against her chest.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Mommy will never leave you unless necessary. I just needed a moment to myself," Clarke reassured her. 

Lavender eyes gazed up at her mom, filled with questions but with a drop of wisdom that didn’t seem like it belonged in such a small body.

The trio settled onto the bed, Bentley joining them and snuggling at their feet. Lexa nestled against her mom's chest, prompting Clarke to lift her shirt and let her daughter nurse, a comforting routine for both of them. As Clarke hummed a lullaby and ran her fingers through Lexa's silky hair, they drifted off to sleep, enveloped in a peaceful darkness.

_________________________________________________________________________

As the sun broke over the horizon, it signaled the start of another kind of journey for the young family. Abby was in the kitchen; her sleep was fitful. The scent of her husband enveloped her as she felt strong arms slide around her. 

The soft hairs of her husband's beard tickled her face as she relaxed into him. 

“I woke up and the bed was cold; usually you don’t stay up like this unless you have a hard case, and I know you're off work." The question lingered in the air. Abby twirled around. 

“How can you sleep so soundly yourself?" The words weren’t in anger, but in true confusion.

“Wha-Abby love?”

“Our daughter is suddenly back, and with a child in tow, all the years we missed Jake." Hot tears started spilling down her cheeks.

“A little girl; our little girl has a little girl. What happened to her, wherever she was? Is she the same? Did they change her? Whoever took her, and why?” She collapsed into her husband's arms, and he pulled her close.

“My love.” He kissed the top of her head. “Many questions abound in my mind as well, but for that reason, I could sleep soundly.” 

He pulled them apart to grant eye contact.

“She is home, my love. My baby girl is home, and yes, with some CONSIDERABLE changes, but she is home, she is safe, and she is loved.”

He emphasized his point by engaging in a tender kiss with his wife, a moment filled with tears. Abby let out a soft, tearful laugh, saying, 

"Oh, my love, you always have the perfect words."

"Mmmmmmm, I must confess, 89% of the time I rely on pure improvisation," he replied with a chuckle, causing both of them to giggle briefly. 

Little did they know, by the staircase, their daughter Clarke had quietly eavesdropped on their intimate exchange. Moved by her parents' display of love and comfort, she couldn't help but feel her own tears welling up. After composing herself, she quietly retreated upstairs, preparing herself to face the new reality that awaited her downstairs.

_______________________________________________________________________

As the frost snaked its way up the window panes, Clarke got ready for the day looking around her room. Her gaze scanned the room and landed on her cheerleading uniform, a reminder of her past glory. Next to it lay a manuscript for college applications, a testament to her plans for the future. It was surreal how this part of her life seemed to remain unchanged, As if in stasis. 

Amidst the quiet of the morning, Clarke heard the sound of shuffling and knew her young daughter was stirring. 

"Hello, my little love," she greeted Lexa, who looked adorable with her tousled hair and sleepy lavender eyes. The little girl reached out her arms, eager to be held by her mother. As she held Lexa close, Clarke's heart swelled with love and affection.

“Mommy’s here.” Clarke rubbed her back, humming a morning affirmation. 

“I know everything is brand new and a little scary.”

Clarke didn't know if she was reassuring her daughter or herself, but she felt both needed the words as she made her way downstairs. The house was bathed in the gentle glow of morning light, casting a nostalgic feel over the familiar surroundings.

Bentley, accompanied theme wiggling his fuffy butt excited for breakfast. 

“Morning Mom,” Abbey turned around, a fragile smile gracing her lips.

“Sit, sit, your father, and I have made you breakfast and afterward want to show you some things.

At that moment, a huff was heard from the foot of the stairs in the basement. 

“I found it, love.”

Giving her mom a quizzical look, Clarke walked towards the sound of her dad holding her old highchair.

“A little help” He gestured for Abbey sliding past to help him bring up the chair.

Clarke watched her parents flit around the kitchen, getting the chair around for Lexa. It was heartwarming to know they were doing their best with this sudden update.

See love” Jake slapped the back of the chair and reached out for Lexa, the little girl settling into his arms.

“I told you we may need her old stuff.”

"Yeah, yeah sit down and eat.” Abbey shrugged her husband off jokingly.

Jake slid little Lexa into the seat; her wide lavender eyes looked around expectantly.

“I just made pancakes and cut up some fruit. I don’t know what she eats." Abby handed over a plate full of pancakes.

“She loves melon. Clarke smiled, putting some fruit cubes on the little girl's tray as she palmed around it and ate it up messily. 

While Clarke enjoyed her meal, she noticed her mother's gaze shifting between her, Lexa, and the food in front of her. Jake, sensing the tension, attempted to alleviate it by discussing plans for Lexa's toys, getting Clarke a cell phone, and a plethora of other topics. It almost felt overwhelming.
Suddenly, an interruption broke the awkward silence. 

“Have you put up the tree yet?” The interruption caused her mother to jump a little.

“Oh-No, not yet,” 

“It’s going to be Christmas is coming soon, and I want Lexa to have a memorable first Christmas,” the small confession from Clarke caused a small smile to grow on her father's face. Without missing a beat, Jake excused himself to fetch the boxes from the basement, leaving the two women in silence with the sound of Lexa happily slurping juice off her fingers.

“You're quite the messy bug, aren't you?” Clarke chuckled as she cleaned Lexa up, showering her with kisses that elicited giggles from the little girl.

 Observing the tender moment, Abbey couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions.

“I always knew you’d make a good mom." The words seemed to slip past her lips before she could stop them.

"Oh, I-uh- thank you." The blonde replied in a small whisper. 

“How old is she, Lexa?”

Clarke chuckled darkly. "Honestly, I have no idea. The doctors said she looks about one year old in Earth years, but with the time I've been away, it's hard to say for sure." She gazed into her daughter's eyes as she spoke.

“How- How did she come to be?  Abbey pressed, sensing the weight of the story.

“I ask myself that every day, but I know she was the only thing that got me through,” Clarke revealed, her eyes welling up with tears.

Wanting the lighten the atmosphere Abbey remarked.

"Well, she certainly has your smile." Bringing a smile to Clarke's face, she kissed her daughter's forehead. The little girl started nuzzling into her chest. 

“Sorry,” apologies flooded the air as Clarke situated herself and Lexa. “She eats solids, but she still nurses”.

Abbey nodded, watching the familiar dance between mother and daughter. As Lexa settled in for her feed, Clarke redirected her focus to her mother.

"It feels surreal being back. The cars, the clothes, everything seems different," Clarke remarked.
 

"Indeed, much has changed," her mother concurred. The two women sat in companionable silence, the only sound being Lexa's gentle feeding.

“Well, I’m sure your father needs help with the Christmas tree."  Abbey suddenly stood up, planting a quick kiss on Clarke's head before disappearing. The familiar, comforting scent of her daughter lingered in the air, a fragrance that had been imprinted in Abbey's memory since Clarke's birth, and with that action, she was gone. _________________________________________________________________________

Throughout the day Clarkes'' dad helped set up Christmas decorations, they got cute pictures of Lexa hanging up ornaments all in all it was a low-key family day. The one thing Clarke was missing was going outside but one glance down their street and you could see news vans lined for miles all wanting to get the first look at the returned girl.

____________________________________________________________________________

It was a day for Lexa. Working with the hardass agents, especially Agent Danza, she wanted to sleep for 5 years. She flopped onto her bed Hamburger looked at her like she offended him.

"Oh, hush, you fluffy boy.” 

She scooped up the cat, snuggling him closer, while the cat gave out mock cries of indignation.

The phone rang.

“Lexa Woods”

“Girl, did you not even check the caller ID?” Raven teased on the other end.

“I did!” Lexa protested with indignation.

“Oh, you totally didn't,” Raven chuckled knowingly.

“Anya told me today was busy for you; she would’ve called herself, but she’s been on a conference call for hours, so I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Lexa gave a soft smile, for as crazy and chaotic as Raven could be, she had a big heart, which was one of the reasons her cousin fell for her.

“I’m okay, just exhausted. You wouldn’t believe- Rae….”

“What” The tone of Lexa's voice made Raven pause.

“I think I saw her.”

“Her?”

“HER”

"Lexaaa, uuhhh, how can you be so sure?”

“I’m not 100%, but the way things were on lockdown today, Rae, and I swear I saw blonde hair,”

“Billions of people have blonde hair, Lexa," Raven said dubiously 

“Yes, but not HER blonde!”

The line was silent, with heavy breathing.

“ Well…. Some dude in the office today was spouting about some very prolific case his brother was working on. I couldn’t say much, but apparently, his brother is a social worker and got snatched by the FEDS for something or someone big.”

Gears were turning in Lexa's mind.

“What’s your co-worker's name who was blabbing?”

“Lex I don’t want you bothering this guy.”

"Who said anything about bothering?" she shrugged as if Raven could magically sense it. "I just want to do some research, that's all.” 

Raven rolled her eyes “Fuck it, his name is Roan, Roan Harbour." 

Raven could practically hear Lexa tapping away on her phone.

"Get some shut-eye, Lexa." 

"Mmhmm." 

"Lex, seriously."

"Goodnight, Raven, go bug my sister."

“Oh, I very much intend to,” the engineer quipped.

“That iiiis disgusting,” Lexa gagged. 

"Suck my ass," Raven retorted. 

"No thanks, I'll let my cousin handle that." 

"And man, she's a pro at it." The words were punctuated by an evil chuckle.

"GOODNIGHT RAVEN," and just like that, Lexa ended the call, cheeks burning. She gave Hamburger a reassuring pat. 

Let's see if we can find some answers.

Lexa came across a few  Instagram profiles that didn’t hold much promise—a glassblowing page that Roan did on the side. Finally, she found a picture of a guy who seemed to be in a couple of photos. Hovering over his face, the tag read:

“Zion Harbour”

Chapter Text

Green is what encompassed her—the smell of summer laughter.

Wait, I’ve heard that laughter before……..Lexa? Their gazes locked, green eyes meeting green eyes, and the words "I love you" filled the air. Tears fell from Clarke's eyes, her sobs echoing in the empty space.

“No baby, no tears, no crying.”

Tears flowed from Clarke's eyes, soaking her pillow. She felt like she was drowning in her emotions. As her vision cleared, the reality of the empty room hit her. She could still feel the ghost of kisses on her lips, the dampness of tears on her pillowcase. Even though she was physically home, her soul felt lost.

Breathe Clarke breathe.   As she gulped down some calming air, her frantic nerves settled a bit. Surveying the room, her gaze landed on her snoozing daughter, peacefully tucked into her crib with a beloved stuffed animal.

Clarke and Lexa had been holed up inside for what felt like forever, dodging the relentless media frenzy outside. Despite the unwanted attention, they were protected by a military-grade security detail that her father had arranged. There was even a good-looking guard named Wells, stationed in an RV out front, who would pop by to say hello whenever they stepped outside.

Insomnia barred Clarke from going back to sleep so she stayed up looking through her old yearbooks, waiting for the sun to rise and a new day to dawn. As she stared out the window, mesmerized by the fluffy snowflakes falling outside, a grin spread across her face. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was already 9:00. She shuffled over to the crib and gently nudged Lexa, coaxing her to greet the day.

"Time to rise and shine, my little love," Clarke cooed.

Lexa's lavender eyes slowly blinked open, and a sleepy smile spread across her face.

"Good morning, my darling," 

Clarke greeted her, scooping Lexa up and showering her with affectionate kisses. As the little girl came fully awake, she nestled in for her morning feeding. Clarke cherished these quiet moments alone with her daughter, sharing stories from her own youth as Lexa nursed contented in her arms. After about half an hour, Lexa finished nursing, appearing slightly drowsy from her milk-induced bliss."

Lifting her up Clarke gave her belly a little raspberry, causing the young girl to giggle. The dynamic duo prepared for the day; Lexa in a new onesie and Clarke in comfy clothes. Heading downstairs, they found her parents already enjoying breakfast, their faces lighting up at the sight of them coming down the stairs.

"How's my little ET doing?" her father exclaimed with a grin.

Jake swooped in, taking Lexa from Clarke and showering her with morning cuddles. Lexa had quickly taken a liking to Jake, and he took to affectionately calling her his little ET, a quirky yet endearing nickname.

"What about your big ET?" Clarke joked.

“Oh hush” Jake chuckled, pulling his daughter in for sloppy cheek kisses and placing Lexa next to her cheek as well, the little girl leaving her babbling trail of kisses filled with, “Mommy momma.”

“Okay, okay, I’m feeling the love.” Clarke beamed with happiness.

"Good, because I never want you to feel lacking.” 

With a small smile, Jake spoke his words, but Clarke could feel the sincerity in every syllable. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she bravely blinked them away.

“I know,” she whispered hoarsely.

“How did you sleep, my dear? Did those pills do the trick?” Clarke's mother inquired, aware of her daughter's sleep troubles.

"I couldn't bring myself to take them," Clarke admitted, her gaze dropping.
Abbey's expression softened as she gently lifted Clarke's chin with her hand. 

"We'll find a solution, my love."

A few tears finally escaped Clarke's eyes at her mother's comforting touch. Abbey kissed her forehead with a tender hum, causing Clarke to lean towards the warmth never wanting it to end.
Just then, Jake suggested, 

"Since it's snowing, why not take our little one out to enjoy her first snowy day?"

"That's a wonderful idea, Dad," Clarke responded, making Jake beam with pride.
"I'll go clear a path and build an igloo for us," Jake announced, placing Lexa in her highchair before heading outside.

Abbey chuckled as she watched her husband bound outside.

“I wasn’t sure if you were feeling up to going somewhere,” her mother expressed gently.

“You mean outside?” The blonde gestured toward the window.
Her mother nodded. “You remember how we used to go to Christmas Eve mass?”

Blue eyes bore into similar blue with acknowledgment. 

Their family wasn't particularly religious, but it had become a tradition to attend Christmas Eve mass with her grandparents. Since their passing, it was a way for the small family to connect with their memory during the holidays.

“We haven’t been since you left; it just didn’t feel right. But, well…” Abbey trailed off, her hands fidgeting nervously until a comforting hand covered hers, calming the tremors.

“I would like that,” Clarke spoke softly, a hint of anxiety evident in her eyes.

“We don’t have to go if it’s too much for you,” Abbey reassured her.

“No, Mom, I need to start getting back into a routine. I can’t continue hiding all the time,” Clarke responded, determined.

A small smile crept over the older woman's face. 

“I have just the dress to put the little munchkin in.

“Oh god, not the”

Too late, her mother appeared again with the classic little girl Christmas dress, black on top, red plaid on the bottom, with a big golden buckle in the middle.

All Clarke could do was laugh. “How many of my old outfits did you save?

“Oh, hush, let your mother have fun,” Abbey poked her daughter, making the blonde yelp.

Curious lavender eyes watch the two while knawing on a mango pit.

Clarke felt a sense of warmth seeing her mother's excitement to welcome Lexa into their lives. Abbey needed a bit more time to fully embrace Lexa, which Clarke respected, even though it hurt a bit. Abbey admitted that looking at Lexa made her sad and angry about what happened to her when she was gone, and it brought her pain. Clarke then explained that though she went through hell and back and that she survived and brought this innocent life into the world, Lexa was her beacon of hope and should not be used as a bookmark of pain. After their heart-to-heart, Abbey began to open up and embrace Lexa a little more every day.

____________________________________________________________________________

After breakfast, the little family went out to enjoy the snow Lexa all bundled up looked adorable Bentley snuffled around the young girl his cold nose in her face making her giggle. 

Finally were making good memories.

____________________________________________________________________________

As evening fell, the family got dressed up for the night. Abbey had baked some cookies for the reception after. Crooked gingerbread cookies had resulted from Lexa trying to cut out some herself, but those were Clarke's favorites. The family looked themselves over. Clarke in an evergreen dress, her mom in a burgundy one, and Lexa in the classic little kid Christmas dress. 

“Well, don’t my girls look stunning.”

Jake made it out of the bathroom, appraising the little family. He scooped Abbey in for a deep kiss, surprising his wife and making her cheeks turn red.

“Jake!”

“What why can’t I worship my beautiful, lovely, gorgeous wife?”

“Oh, hush,” she giggled, peppering him with smaller kisses.

Clarke watched her parents; Lovingly feeling a tug of longing for a love like theirs. knowing she was just on the precipice of that when she was taken.

She cleared her throat. “We ready?”

“Oh, sh*t, Jake, we're going to be late. 

Clarke's jaw dropped; she had never heard her mother cuss before, and Jake just laughed. Abbey ushered them into the garage and into the SUV.

 Her father had made sure to tint the windows of the SUV for situations like this. There were still a few media vans parked on the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of Clarke.

"I spoke to the priest, and he said we can use the downstairs entrance," Jake told Clarke as he prepared to back out. 

"He knows you're coming and promised to enforce a strict no-phone policy during mass so we can fully enjoy the experience. Wells will be following behind us and standing in the back."

He gave her a reassuring pat on the leg. Clarke felt touched by her parents' efforts to make her feel comfortable.

"Thank you, Dad."

“Anything for my girl”

He pulled her hand and gave it a small kiss then turned around and started the car. As predicted, as soon as they rolled out of the driveway, there were some flashes of cameras around the car, causing the blonde's anxiety to spark. In turn, she focused on her daughter. Lexa had gotten a little fussy, so she allowed the little girl to breastfeed on the drive there. The rhythmic sucks and the other little hand kneading at her side, grounding Clarke again. Kissing the little girl on the head, she took a deep breath.

“I’ll be okay.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Lexa had promised her mother, Daenerys, that she would help at her church's Christmas charity drive and reception. Lexa didn’t consider herself religious, but seeing how devoted her mother was to her cause she never made her feel ashamed. After work, she called her mother.

“You work too much.”

“Well, hello to you mother, and Merry Christmas.”

Lexa rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at your mother. 

“Mooommm I didn't,” she whined like a petulant 5-year-old, causing the older woman to chuckle lightly.

"Are you and Anya still planning to come to the church tonight?"

"Yep, Anya is picking up Raven, and we'll meet you there," Lexa confirmed.

As she spoke, Lexa was getting ready for the event, changing into a more festive outfit. She chose a forest green shirt with a maroon tie, a jacket with a subtle pattern of evergreen trees, tan pants, and dark brown shoes to complete the look. It may not have been covered in candy canes, but it was a subtle nod to the holiday spirit.

"I hope you remembered about the reception afterward! Did you bring any food?"

Not many people know, but Lexa is an amazing cook. She even considered going to culinary school at one point, but in the end, she chose to keep cooking as her passion, not her paycheck.

“Don't worry, Mother, I brought the scones.”

 Lexa's holiday gingerbread and allspice scones were legendary.

"I can practically hear your stomach growling, Mom."

"Can't help it, I raised a culinary genius," her mother chuckled.

"Be there in 20 mins"

"Can't wait to see you, love."

"Love you, Mom."

 __________________________________________________________________________

As Lexa pulled up to the familiar “cathedral of Kildare” it was a church but when Lexa was young she called it a cathedral and it stuck. The familiar mural of Saint Anne in the stained glass window there was a line to the parking lot. As she slowed down she saw a man going from car to car collecting something. When he reached Lexa’s car, she rolled down her window.

 “Ma’am, I'm going to need your cell phone,” he said, holding out a bag with a name and phone type label.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Lexa’s tone sharpened at the unexpected request. The man quickly flashed a US Marshals badge.

“Phone,” he demanded in a bored but commanding voice.

“I’m just here to help my mother,” Lexa protested.

“Either give me your phone, ma'am, or visit your mother later,” he stated firmly.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Lexa reluctantly handed over her phone in the labeled bag.

“You can retrieve this at the end of the service from my men at the front,” he informed her.

“That better not get lost there is some really important stuff in there”

“Everyone says that ma'am move along.”

Lexa rolled her window up with a frown on her face wondering how she would find her mother now. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Venturing through the sea of bustling bodies, Lexa finally located her mother in the cozy confines of the church kitchens. The sight of her shorter, older mother ignited a spark in her eyes as she exclaimed, "Lexa, my baby!" and enveloped her daughter in a slightly awkward hug.

"Mom, let me just drop my things, first" 

Lexa playfully groaned, setting her scones aside. Her mother apologized sheepishly.  Lexa embraced her mother. She had inherited her tall stature from her father, who stood at 6 ft 10, while her mother, at 5 ft 1, had somehow given birth to very tall children. Lexa, at 5 ft 10, her brother Lincoln at 6 ft 7, and her youngest sister Luna at 5 ft 11. And yes, she bragged about that one inch of height on Lexa. Luna was in her sophomore year of college studying abroad back in Italy, staying with their grandparents, but was hoping to be home on Christmas day. It was a surprise that Lexa had set up so all the kids could be home. 

"I'm so thrilled you're here," her mother beamed.

"I promised I would be. Now, where's Pops?" 

A man of mass walked through the door covered in tattoos, but with a Santa hat on his head and his beard sprinkled with white. 

“Is that my little girl?” 

“Oh no.” She groaned anticipating the next move

Lexa was hoisted off of her feet and spun around his deep laughter filling her ears

“Dad put me down.” but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

A camera clicked in the background. Raven, with a mischievous grin, declared, "Now that is going in the family newsletter." 

As her father set her down she mock threatened the other woman"Raven, delete that, or I’m going to kill you.”

“Hey, no killing my girlfriend. Anya announced herself, walking through the door with bags of clothes to donate and food items.

“Anya I’m so glad you made it too.”

Anya was Lexa's cousin, but her parents had died when she was younger, and Lexa's parents had adopted her, so Anya was basically a sister to her. Lexa's dad ruffled her hair and scooped the other girls in a big bear hug.

It was during moments like this that Lexa felt really at home; the only one missing was Luna. 

“What with the cops?” Raven asked the question that was hanging in the air.

“I mean, it’s Christmas, and cops and Christmas do not mix.” 

“Well, actually, most burglaries happen during the Christmas season, so cops do…..” the words trailed off, and Lincoln looked back to the cookies he was organizing on the baking sheet as Raven sent him a death glare.

Lexa's dad grumbled, "Probably for some fancy socialite who decides to show a little kindness on Christmas."

"Drogo!" Daenerys scolded her husband.

"What if it's a famous person?" Lincoln suggested.

"Or someone from the government; they are government agents after all," Anya added.

"What if it's Clarke?" Raven whispered so softly that Lexa almost missed it.

"Don't," Lexa snapped.

The kitchen fell silent as Lexa and Raven exchanged intense glares.

"She used to come here with her parents," Raven pressed

“I want to enjoy my Christmas.” Lexa growled

"But you mentioned that you saw..." Her words drifted off as she met Lexa's stern gaze.

“Abbey has been rather MIA.” Her mother said, “She didn’t pick up my calls about helping in the drive this year.”

"I haven't crossed paths with Jake at the university either," her father pondered. Despite his imposing figure, he was actually an English professor at Polis University and had occasional interactions with Jake, who taught engineering.

For as big a man her dad was, he was actually an English professor at Polis University, and he crossed paths from time to time with Jake as he taught engineering.

"Enough talking, everyone," Lexa interjected with frustration. "Maybe they're just as wrapped up in their own stuff as we are."

"I'm sorry, dear. Let's change the subject," Daenerys suggested, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Hey Lincoln, spill the beans on that girl from your Insta," Raven prodded with a mischievous grin, causing Lincoln to blush.

"It's nothing, really," he stammered.

"That beach photo didn't look like nothing," Raven teased.

"Mooom, tell her to quit teasing me.” Lincoln pleaded.

The family bickering fell into the background as Lexa put the last details on the gingerbread houses, grateful to avoid mentioning Clarke. With the reception area now beautifully adorned, they eagerly awaited the start of the Christmas Eve service. But Lexa couldn't tear her eyes away from a figure four rows ahead, their blonde hair eerily reminiscent of someone she knew.

___________________________________________________________________________

Upon the arrival of the griffins at the church, Jake let out a low whistle of surprise. "When I pulled in those favors, I never expected this," he muttered under his breath. The family looked outside and noticed a group of men in black suits approaching. One of them waved them over to the basement entrance, where they were quickly ushered inside.

As Wells went to park the car, he assured them he would join them shortly. The familiar scent of the church hit Clarke as memories from her childhood flooded her mind. After removing their coats in the closet, the family was guided to their seats, feeling the weight of curious eyes upon them.

 Whispers and gasps rippled through the congregation as people recognized Clarke

  I can’t believe it’s her; she looks the same, and she has a child!

With anticipation, Clarke awaited the start of the service, hoping to drown out the surrounding chatter. As they settled into their seats, Clarke's heart swelled as she spotted an elderly lady who had been like a grandmother to her in her youth approaching. 

“Clarke, is that you? My dear,” the old nun, sister Carina called out. Clarke gave a slight nod in response. 

“I never stopped hoping,” the older woman said, her eyes welling up with tears. “May I?” Her question hung in the air, Clarke handed Lexa to her mother the little girl had knocked out. She Embraced the elderly woman in a long-awaited hug. 

“You know tomorrow is my birthday,” the older woman remarked. “You are the best present anyone could ask for, my dear.” All Clarke could manage was a simple thank you, as her emotions threatened to engulf her.

Pointing to Lexa, the elderly woman inquired, “Who is this little sweetie?” Taking Lexa back into her arms, Clarke responded, “This is Lexa, my daughter.” As she looked at the older woman, Clarke's mix of joy and anxiety was palpable in her voice.

"Carina whispered, 'She is just as beautiful as her mother.' The glow on Clarke's face was radiant enough to illuminate the darkest corners of the room. The music began, and the crowd hushed as Carina made her way back to her seat, sending Clarke a loving smile. With the sound of bells and the choir's harmonious voices, Clarke felt like she had been whisked back to her carefree childhood. In that moment, all the struggles and worries she had faced faded into the background. Surrounded by loved ones, she allowed herself to savor the joy of the present. Tears of gratitude streamed down her cheeks, a reminder of the challenges she had overcome to reach this point. Lexa woke up just in time for the Nativity scene, clapping in time with the music. Clarke sensed a gaze fixed on her from behind, but she chose to focus on the precious moment unfolding before her."

____________________________________________________________________________

As the service was coming to an end Lexa had gotten a little fussy and Clarke took her to the bathroom to change her diaper as she exited the bathroom the doors to the congregation were just being opened.

____________________________________________________________________________

Lexa had decided to make an early exit back to the kitchens before the floods of people came to the reception. Exiting through a side door of the sanctuary she couldn’t shake the strange sensation in the air. A mix of happiness and mystery that felt strange in her bones. She rounded the corner and looked up from her feet, her eyes catching something—no, someone. 

Blue…..a blue she could never forget.

____________________________________________________________________________

As Clarke turned the corner, her eyes locked with someone heading towards the entrance of the other door. They were wearing dark brown oxfords, tan pants, a dark green shirt, a maroon tie, and had striking green eyes - the kind of green that stayed etched in her memory. In that moment, Clarke felt a mix of emotions that left her breathless. It was as if the ground had been swept out from under her, but in a strangely comforting way. Her whole being was filled with a sensation that had long been dormant, a feeling that only one person could awaken.
 

LEXA

As the doors of the sanctuary swung open, a crowd of people bustled past the two pairs of eyes, but for Clarke, only those green eyes mattered.

__________________________________________________________________________

Lexa was in disbelief at the sight before her. 

"My love, My Clarke," she whispered softly as she gazed into those deep blue eyes filled with so much emotion - pain, hope, and a shared history filled with love. In a blink, the blue vanished and Lexa found herself lost in the midst of a crowd, her heart racing at an impossible speed of 2 billion miles a minute.

Chapter Text

Lexa's bones felt as if they were filled with electricity in that singular, agonizing moment. The air was violently stolen from her lungs, leaving her gasping, as a pair of brilliant blue eyes, shockingly vivid, locked onto hers through the swirling, indistinct myriad of people passing by. And then… they were gone. Swallowed by the crowd, like a mirage.
"Clarke!" Lexa yelled, a sound that was utterly unbecoming in the solemn sanctity of a church. But she didn't care. She didn't know if the desperate cry had escaped her lips or if it had been a silent scream echoing only in the confines of her own mind, but she knew with an absolute certainty that the universe, in its vast indifference, must hear her.

Since when had so many people decided to come to church? Goddamn it.

The exasperated thought ripped through her mind as she fought, clawed, and pushed her way through the thick, unyielding swathes of people steadily streaming out of the sanctuary. Each body was a frustrating obstacle, a wall preventing her from reaching the vanishing point of those azure eyes. As the aisle gradually thinned out, her frantic movements slowed until she found herself alone, standing in the vast, suddenly empty expanse of the nave. The plush red carpet, once bustling with footsteps, was now littered with the remnants of the children's Christmas performance: stray leaves of evergreen, a testament to a forgotten garland, and shimmering flecks of red glitter, catching the dimming light like scattered rubies.

"She was just here; she—"

It was as if her heart, already a bruised and battered thing, had been given a cruel shock of life, only to have it ripped away again in a cruel, mocking twist of fate. A raw, guttural sound of frustration tore from her throat. Her long legs, usually so purposeful and graceful, now moved with a desperate, almost clumsy urgency, carrying her outside into the chill evening air of the parking lot. The normal early exiters, those who always slipped away before the final benediction, were already settled in their cars, their engines humming to life. Some gave her strange, curious looks, their faces etched with a mixture of confusion and mild alarm, as her eyes strained, darting wildly into the fading light, trying to pierce the encroaching twilight. But there was no sign. No glimpse of the one she knew, with every fiber of her being, she was desperately looking for. The vast, empty asphalt lot stretched out before her, cold and unforgiving, mirroring the sudden emptiness in her chest.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
It was as if Clarke could feel Lexa before seeing her. A tingling sensation began at the tips of her fingers, coursing rapidly through her veins, a visceral current that made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. Goosebumps erupted across her skin, a wave of prickling awareness that seemed to hum just beneath the surface. Her breath caught in her throat, a silent gasp of recognition even before her eyes could confirm what her body already knew. By the time she finally lifted her gaze, scanning the crowded aisle, there was no doubt. The elegant, commanding presence, the familiar silhouette—it could only be her.

"Lexa,"

The name escaped Clarke's lips in a barely audible whisper, a sound imbued with a complex tapestry of emotions. It was full of reverence, a deep, unspoken admiration for the woman who stood before her. And yet, beneath the reverence and awe, a sharp current of anxiety coursed through the whispered syllable, a tangible fear of what this encounter might mean. Gifting herself only the briefest, most agonizing moment of direct eye contact, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection that still pulsed between them, Clarke’s resolve crumbled. She spun away, desperately seeking to lose herself within the anonymity of the swirling crowd. She could almost hear her name carried on the wind, a phantom echo of a voice she knew so intimately, but she wasn’t ready, not sure she ever would be. Clutching her daughter to her chest—a small, warm anchor against the rising tide of her tumultuous emotions—the blonde dashed through the throng, her movements urgent, almost frantic, towards the familiar, comforting presence of her parents.

Abby, ever attuned to her daughter’s unspoken currents, felt the subtle shift in the atmosphere even before Clarke reached her. A ripple of distress, a flicker of something profoundly unsettling, passed through the vibrant hum of the Christmas Eve air. Then, a voice, broken and fragile.

"Mom."

It was a plea, a confession, a silent plea for protection and understanding. Abby, her gaze sharp and perceptive, signaled to her husband, Jake, who was engrossed in conversation with the organist. One swift, knowing look was all it took. Jake, understanding the unspoken urgency in his wife's eyes, ended his discussion abruptly, gathering their belongings with practiced efficiency. Without a word, Abby pulled her daughter and grandbaby into the protective embrace of her arms, their familiar presence a balm against the chaos. She deftly shuffled them away from the main thoroughfare of the church, navigating through the quieter back corridors, ultimately leading them towards the discreet, familiar sanctuary of the downstairs entrance, away from prying eyes and the echoes of a past that had just dramatically re-emerged.

“Wells!”

The words carried urgency through the light snow. The man put down his pipe and ordered the small family into the SUV. Tires peeling away silently in the freshly fallen snow. Inside the car, Clarke's breaths were coming out in ragged, desperate gasps, each one a stark contrast to the quiet hum of the engine. Her hands, usually so steady, trembled violently in her lap.

"Clarke, baby, I need you to breathe," a voice, soft yet firm, cut through the fog of her panic. It was Abby, her mother, her rock.

Wild blue eyes, wide and unfocused, darted around the car's interior, seeing nothing and everything all at once. The world outside the windows blurred into an indistinguishable smear of colors. Abby, sensing the escalating terror, reached over and gently, but firmly, cupped her daughter's face in her hands.

"Look at me, Clarke. Breathe. You’re okay. Your daughter needs you calm right now. I need you." Abby’s words were a lifeline, a desperate plea to pull Clarke back from the brink.

Clarke was so profoundly internalized that she didn't initially register the impact her distress was having on Lexa. It wasn't until a sharp, acrid feeling, like a jolt of ice water, shot through her spine that she truly registered the small, vulnerable presence in her lap. Bright lavender eyes, usually so full of youthful curiosity and joy, were now brimming with unshed tears, fixed on her mother's contorted face. That sight, more than anything Abby could have said, was the tether that pulled Clarke back to the present. Her ragged breathing slowly began to even out, and her eyes, still swimming with anxiety, flickered between her mother's worried face and her daughter's tear-filled gaze.
With a heart-wrenching sob, the younger woman crumpled forward, surrendering to the overwhelming wave of emotion. Abby immediately gathered her daughter into her arms, holding her close as Clarke's body shook with deep, shuddering sobs that wracked her entire frame.

"I saw her, Mom," Clarke choked out between gasps, her voice raw and broken.

"I-Lex-She-"
The rest of the sentence dissolved into a fresh torrent of tears and more desperate sobs, the name "Lexa" hanging heavy in the air, a phantom limb of pain and longing.

Abby chastised herself, a wave of self-reproach washing over her. She knew, intellectually, that it was far too early to be venturing out, exposing Clarke to the unpredictable stimuli of the outside world, especially with the high chance of encountering someone from her past. The thought of seeing Lexa, a possibility that had seemed to slip her mind in the rush of the day, now loomed large and devastatingly real. Jake, ever the calm and steady presence, caught her eye in the rearview mirror, offering a reassuring, understanding look that silently told her it wasn't her fault.

The drive home, usually a short and uneventful journey, stretched into an agonizing eternity for everyone in the vehicle. The silence was heavy, punctuated only by Clarke's ragged breaths and the occasional sniffle from Lexa.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As the reception went on, Anya didn’t see Lexa anywhere in the crowd, and she went searching for her cousin, spotting a lanky figure in the small mourning chapel off the side of the sanctuary. She sat down softly, quietly so as not to disturb this special moment.
Finally, Anya broke the profound silence, her voice a soft murmur that barely disturbed the stillness.

"You're missing all the cookies—"

Lexa cut her off, her voice raw and barely above a whisper, "I saw her."

Anya’s brow furrowed in confusion.

"Who?"

Slowly, agonizingly, tortured green eyes, brimming with a pain Anya had rarely witnessed, turned to meet her own soft, confused cinnamon-brown ones. The unspoken question hung in the air, a delicate thread connecting their gazes.

"Clarke," the name a fragile confession.

The single syllable hung in the silence, heavy and potent, like a spell waiting to be broken. It was a name that held a universe of meaning for Lexa. Anya felt a pang of understanding, a sudden clarity that explained Lexa’s retreat from the festivities.

"I’m—I’m sure, I know her, Anya,"

Lexa insisted, her voice gaining a desperate conviction. It was a plea, a need for validation that Anya saw.
Anya studied her cousin, her gaze both empathetic and scrutinizing. She knew Lexa. She knew the depth of her feelings.

"Then you saw her,"

Anya affirmed, her tone quiet but firm. It wasn't a question but an acknowledgment, a validation of Lexa's reality.

"She was here; she was so close, Anya, I could’ve touched her."

The words spilled out, laced with a sad desperation that was palpable. It was a lament, a yearning for something just out of reach.
With those heart-wrenching words, Anya rose and moved to her cousin, pulling her into a tight, comforting hug. In the enveloping silence of the chapel, broken only by the distant murmur of the reception, Anya held Lexa close. Lexa buried her face into Anya’s shoulder, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Anya let Lexa cry until the tears began to subside, offering the quiet strength of family in a moment that words could never adequately address.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As the griffins made it back inside, it was as if Clarke was in a daze. Abbey unzipped her daughter's cloak and helped pry little Lexa out of her arms, handing the child to Jake. The little girl fussed slightly but curled into her grandpop. Abbey led her daughter to their master bathroom, setting up the large tub, slowly filling it. Prompting her daughter to sit on the toilet as she braided her hair, waiting for the water to warm.
Abbey led her daughter to the warm tub, encouraging her to slip in.
The drastic shift in temperature seemed to jolt Clarke from the trance she had been in. Her mother, Abbey, was gently wiping her neck with a warm, damp cloth. Unbeknownst to Clarke, Abbey’s observant gaze had already caught sight of the faint, yet distinct, puncture marks on her daughter's skin. A sharp ache pierced Abbey’s heart, a torrent of unspoken questions flooding her mind, yet she maintained her silence.

A soft, almost imperceptible whisper broke the quiet, yet in the echoing stillness, it resonated with an unexpected loudness.

“Everything's different.”

Abbey’s immediate instinct was to offer words of comfort, to reassure her daughter that all would be well. But the harsh, undeniable truth of their new reality choked the words in her throat.
“Yes,” Abbey managed to utter, her voice barely a breath.

Clarke hunched over in the bathtub, her head resting heavily on her knees. Tears, hot and silent, began to leak from the corners of her eyes, tracing paths down her flushed cheeks, mirroring the turmoil within her.

Abbey, a woman of formidable intellect and capability, had spent her life solving complex problems. From intricate mathematical equations to daunting healthcare crises for her patients, she had always found a solution. Yet, as she looked at her daughter, she knew with a chilling certainty that no qualification, no amount of skill or knowledge, could unravel the predicament Clarke now faced. This was the ultimate curse of a parent leaving her feeling utterly helpless and broken.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

CHRISTMAS 2004

The day was welcomed with more frost on the windows. The blonde had been awake all night, thoughts filling her mind, the glimpses of Lexa making her heart not know whether to hide or to sing. Lexa was right in front of her, and she looked like her, but so tired. As she had studied the aging her parents showcased, she was able to see the aging on Lexa. She looked like a woman who had lost herself and was looking for herself at the same time. But she looked like hers, her Lexa, the years of laughter, tears, pranks, and sicknesses all combined into the woman she saw across from her in that aisle.

I just got home.

The young woman didn’t know if she was ready to face so many changes, so she ran back to her sanctuary of home.
Clarke rolled over to gaze at her daughter. Platinum hair sticking out everywhere, chest rising and falling, she stroked the little body of her daughter, letting out a soft coo to her mother's touch.

“Hello, my love, it’s Christmas,” her voice taking on the early morning raspiness.

Bleary lavender eyes blinked open and shut. Clarke scooped the small body to her, guiding her to her breast for her morning feed. With the chaos of the past few days, this was the peace the Clarke treasured; it was a constant she had had for apparently multiple years that she was gone, just her and Lexa.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
CHRISTMAS IN THE WOODS HOME

The Woods home was always noisy, filled with shenanigans, food contests, loud noises of extended family. Luna was able to come back, and that had filled the home with warmth, but Lexa still had one thing on her mind.

She snuck back to her dad’s office, hopping on the old deskto,p doing some research. Logging into her secure work portal, she navigated through the labyrinthine county bedboard system. Her heart pounded in her chest, a nervous drumbeat against her ribs, as she meticulously scoured for any trace of Clarke. The recent interaction with the enigmatic agents, the hushed whispers of a "high-profile" case – it all swirled in her mind, connecting the dots. Then, she saw it: a patient file labeled "Jane Doe," no image, but dated precisely to the time of her unsettling encounter with Agent Danza. A wave of confirmation, sharp and exhilarating, bloomed in her chest. Even though she had seen Clarke just hours earlier, a fleeting glimpse in a crowded church, this digital breadcrumb solidified the impossible – That was her Clarke. The eyes in the church had not lied, her Clarke was truly back!
With renewed urgency, Lexa skimmed the news feeds again. The chaotic headlines flashed before her eyes: the Griffins, rushing out of their house then rushing back in, but with another body. Reporters shouted questions, their voices echoing in the digital void, a cacophony of speculation and tragedy. Lexa ran her hands through her hair, a gesture of both frustration and profound relief. The world was a mess, yet amidst the chaos, a fragile hope had taken root.
The door creaked open.

“ LEEEEXXXXXAAAAA”

her younger sister's voice floated in
The older of the two flipping off the singsong voice

“Aww, love you too, sis”

A grumble came from her throat as she turned around, Luna leaning against the doorway.

“ It's Christmas, dude, you can work all 364 other days of the year, you're missing Aunt Indra's fruitcake.

Both girls laughed at that statement, knowing Aunt Indra’s fruitcake tasted like cement, a culinary abomination, but it wasn’t a Woods family Christmas without it.

“ ok, I’m coming”

With that, her research was postponed for now. Lexa was determined to enjoy her holiday with a little…..no a lot of hope on her mind.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Clarke was helping her mom set the table across the room, her dad, Jake, was fully immersed in entertaining her daughter, a whirlwind of joy amidst a scattering of new toys. Thomas the Tank Engine, an Elmo stuffy, Barbie, a fleet of Hot Wheels cars – Lexa was in her element, and Jake was clearly relishing every moment of it. Abbey looked over at Clarke, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“He loves to spoil her.”

Clarke let out a soft laugh in response, the sound a gentle caress. "I can see that," she agreed, watching as Lexa squealed with delight, clutching a Hot Wheels car in each hand.
As they finished up she gently touched her mother's arm, her gaze growing distant.

"Would it be possible," she began, her voice hesitant, and then she chewed on her lip, a nervous habit from childhood resurfacing.

Abbey, sensing the shift in her daughter's demeanor, simply watched, patiently waiting for Clarke to untangle her thoughts. She knew that look.

"Seeing Lexa, seeing her so changed…it really hit me."

Clarke's voice began to thicken with emotion, a fragile vulnerability seeping into each word.

"I know I'm going to run into people whose time hasn't stopped like mine. I feel so unprepared. I don’t know anyone anymore." The life she had lived on pause hung heavy in the air between them. The world had moved on, and she felt like a stranger in her own past..

Abbey withheld the hug she wanted to give, letting her daughter work through her emotions.

"Are there yearbooks?" Clarke finally asked, her voice softer, almost a whisper of a plea.

"Something? I want to see my friends, but not yet in person. I just need to get to know them again, even just from pictures."

Just then, Jake's voice, booming with good-natured warning, floated in from the living room. "Oh god, don’t get her started!" He entered the dining room, Lexa perched securely on his shoulders, giggling as he lowered her into her high chair.

"Your mother has photos upon photos of life," he added, a fond exasperation in his tone.

A smile touched Clarke's lips; she found herself feeling very appreciative of her mother's almost obsessive organization, a trait she often teased her about.

Abbey beamed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "After dinner, I have much to show you, oh! And MySpace too!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a conspiratorial delight.

Clarke's brow furrowed in confusion. "My… space???"