[There are days when Clarke wishes that her hug beside the water had been enough. It dawns on her later that it's the first time that any of them had seen a real, open body of water. There were the smaller lakes and streams scattered throughout the woods, but they had never really had the opportunity to look out toward the horizon and be lost in it. She wonders if Bellamy had thought of that before she approached him, ready for his blunt words and callous remarks. She knew how he would react—knows how he reacts, especially when he's been hurt and he needs some way to feel as if he can make things better. Lashing out is not an uncommon thing for him, and after the past weeks, she's not surprised that he would do it to her again.
She hadn't minded then. She doesn't mind now.
But Clarke wishes that a hug had been enough. She wishes that coming back had been enough. She wishes that ending the City of Light had been enough. Once, Raven had told her that she wasn't allowed to give up. But she did. For a couple months there, she allowed her tracks to disappear into the woods, and she hid herself away. These days, she knows her mistake. Much like those who were desperate to remove the pain that had been inflicted upon them by the world down below (and even in the years prior up in the Ark), she had tried to do the same. She had tried—and failed. It had been foolish to believe that she could do anything else. Or want anything else. Clarke knows that she belongs among her people.
Building up her relationship with everyone again in a desperate attempt to earn their trust before they move forward is ... hard. To say the least. Clarke knows that with the clock ticking, they still have more time than they did when she had returned and began knowledgeably barking orders. And, to make it worse, she doesn't have a single idea of where to begin. How do they come back from this when even Alie made no attempts to fix the problem? If an AI couldn't do it with vast stores of knowledge inside of her, what could Clarke do?
The past few days have really made it so that she ... definitely feels that. A lot. She knows she's not the only one. When Bellamy stoically stood on the other side of the room and finally excused himself, she knew that he felt useless. Even Alie had been a force to fight in a way. These things ... were just things they hadn't considered as a problem. They had no contingency plans.
Just as everyone breaks (because Clarke knows better than to leave, even if she's offering little advice and just standing there awkwardly), she heads out after Bellamy, trotting quickly down to where he's undoubtedly positioned himself.]
Hey. [She considers mustering up some ... idea, something that can help. But the words don't come to her. Reassurance feels empty.
So, instead:] Hey, do you want to take a walk outside? It seems like a good time for that, and I know your next guard shift isn't for a while.
no subject
She hadn't minded then. She doesn't mind now.
But Clarke wishes that a hug had been enough. She wishes that coming back had been enough. She wishes that ending the City of Light had been enough. Once, Raven had told her that she wasn't allowed to give up. But she did. For a couple months there, she allowed her tracks to disappear into the woods, and she hid herself away. These days, she knows her mistake. Much like those who were desperate to remove the pain that had been inflicted upon them by the world down below (and even in the years prior up in the Ark), she had tried to do the same. She had tried—and failed. It had been foolish to believe that she could do anything else. Or want anything else. Clarke knows that she belongs among her people.
Building up her relationship with everyone again in a desperate attempt to earn their trust before they move forward is ... hard. To say the least. Clarke knows that with the clock ticking, they still have more time than they did when she had returned and began knowledgeably barking orders. And, to make it worse, she doesn't have a single idea of where to begin. How do they come back from this when even Alie made no attempts to fix the problem? If an AI couldn't do it with vast stores of knowledge inside of her, what could Clarke do?
The past few days have really made it so that she ... definitely feels that. A lot. She knows she's not the only one. When Bellamy stoically stood on the other side of the room and finally excused himself, she knew that he felt useless. Even Alie had been a force to fight in a way. These things ... were just things they hadn't considered as a problem. They had no contingency plans.
Just as everyone breaks (because Clarke knows better than to leave, even if she's offering little advice and just standing there awkwardly), she heads out after Bellamy, trotting quickly down to where he's undoubtedly positioned himself.]
Hey. [She considers mustering up some ... idea, something that can help. But the words don't come to her. Reassurance feels empty.
So, instead:] Hey, do you want to take a walk outside? It seems like a good time for that, and I know your next guard shift isn't for a while.