revenant|c.g.|

xxxiii

The rising sun fell upon the figure that overlooked the preparing people from the balcony of the Barington house. To many, she looked like a statue, the shadows upon her face almost making her serious face look like stone. But as Carl approached her, he knew that the statuesque girl was no one else, nothing else, other than the girl he loved.

"Are you ready?" Carl asked, knowing he didn't need to. Defeating the Saviors had seemingly become her life's mission, and it was coming to an end. With a nod of her head, Clary allowed a deep breath to spill from her lips. "I feel as if my whole life has been spent fighting them, fighting Negan. Everything I've lost, everything I've done, maybe it was all for this. To get to this point." Carl looked to her, his gaze softening as he saw the hope in her eyes.

As Carl looked to her, he wished he could have seen her before she had donned the armor she wore. As usual, she looked powerful and strong, the armor that protected her making her seem larger than life, the red fabric flowing behind her signifying her position. However, he wished he could have seen just Clarissa Dean Rhee instead of the fighter he knew would be leading them in a dangerous battle.

But as her eyes landed on him, he knew he had to be comfortable with the fact that she wasn't just the girl he loved, or Maggie's daughter, or Enid's sister, she was Commander. It was the same thing for her, Clary having to be comfortable with the fact that Carl didn't want to kill or hurt— that he was holding on to peace. And she had to be comfortable that he was supposed to be on the front lines beside his father and herself, something he forced both leaders to be okay with. Which, she wasn't, not even close.

"I have something to show you," Clary declared after a moment, walking back into the house before she led him back to the room. Carl was surprised to see a set of armor laid on top, a gray piece of fabric folded neatly on top of it. Immediately, Carl recognized it as the armor of the Second Commander, his fingers grazing the faded fabric.

"The Second Commander was a role that was introduced after our first Commander, Thalia Morrow, passed. She didn't have a successor, a mentee, or anyone she had trained that could follow in her footsteps. Solaris almost collapsed." Clary's fingers grazed the gray material as she remembered the story.

That's all it was to the young Commander: a story. She had never met the First Commander, just seen the pictures of her from the old world and heard stories from when Leon and she had served together. It was because of their friendship that he stepped up as Commander, following in the footsteps of his friend.

"Leon created the position right after he was initiated as Commander. He gave it to one of the first members in Solaris, Arthur Graves." Clary nodded softly. "After that, the rest was history. A Commander always needed their Second, it was the only way Solaris would stand."

Stepping away from the armor, Clary looked at the boy beside her. "Leon gave it to me when we started preparing for this final battle." Carl's hand then fell upon the dark leather of the armor, similar to the Commander's with the only difference being it was better suited for a male body. "Our first attack against the Saviors, he said I should choose a Second who could help me unite the communities. I think that's true, but I also believe it should be someone who can show me how to have hope." She paused. "There's only one person that has shown me that."

Carl processed her words before his eye widened, looking up to meet her gaze to see she was already looking at him. "Wait, you're not talking about— you don't mean me, do you?" Clary could only smile more as she nodded. "Carl, you hold more hope in your words than I've ever had in my lifetime. You see the end of this long and dark tunnel, and I fear I will need your assurance of the future—"

Carl allowed his hand to fall away from the armor, shock filling her body as he stepped away. "Don't talk to me like that. You're not talking to my dad or Michonne or your soldiers." Carl's eyes softened. "It's me. I don't doubt you, and you don't need to hide." Clary knew his words were only because of the eloquence of her words, something she was used to with all the leaders she spoke to but this was Carl.