Strawberries & Ink; The 100

Chapter 1

Hey guys, I haven't been around for a while and I apologise, I fell out of favour with the vampire diaries, I grew up a little and now I'm at uni. Time has flown and I outgrew most of my fics, but I've started to get the bug again, and my new current obsession is the 100. I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so please tell me what you think because there's definitely more where this came from!

It sucks having cancer. Being one of only a thousand survivors of a nuclear apocalypse, currently orbiting the irradiated earth in the Ark, makes it suck more. My name is Dax Kane, and trust me, I know.

I have a rare form of heart cancer. I was born perfectly normally, a blessing as otherwise I wouldn't have ever taken my first breath. Resources are limited in space, why waste them on unviable foetuses? I first found out I was sick when I was 12. I was racing to get to alpha station, trying to beat my best friend Bellamy back from his classes.

Unlikely friends, he was 17, quiet and shy with a dark crop of curls and freckles. He didn't have many friends his own age, which was something we had in common.

I was 12, daughter of a councillor and doctor. Well-to-do. Pretty, popular, well liked. People just couldn't understand the two of us, one stocky, dark and withdrawn. The other lanky, with long russet hair and a huge smile.

As I reached the door to Bellamy's quarters, I felt a sharp pain in my heart. I chastised myself for running so fast, believing it to be a stitch. 'I can't believe you beat me. How fast did you run from Agro?' I heard from behind me. I tried to turn, swallow the pain, excited to show him the little circuit board me and Jasper and Monty had been crafting to try and bypass the lock on Monty's father's seed cabinet, we wanted to see if we could grow strawberries ourselves.

My eyes never made it to his and my infamous grin didn't meet my lips before I hit the floor.

That was the first time I met Octavia. Now, we're best friends.

That was the first time I realised something was wrong with me.

As I said, my mother was a doctor. After I recovered from my collapse, like any 12 year old, I shook it off in the face of such an extraordinary thing as a sibling. A sister. No one I had ever known had a sister.

It happened again. And again. Then, the pain just never stopped. By the time I was 14, I was in daily agony. I felt like a failure, I saw my mother come home exhausted every night. I saw Clarke's mother Abbey do the same. Me and Clarke were friends, along with Wells. All our parents on the council or high up in the ranks of the Ark meant we spent a lot of time thrown together and they were two people who would understand me when Bellamy couldn't. He had too many secrets and too little of everything else. By this time, Bellamy had joined the guard. We saw each other rarely now apart from the evenings I felt strong enough to venture to his quarters to see him and Octavia.

By the time I told my Mom something was wrong, I had few options left. It was lucky she wasn't like most parents, her dark green eyes just had to meet my matching left and dark brown right to know there was something wrong. Exactly half of each my mother and father. His brown eye and her green.

Protocol stated that only one attempt be carried out to save me. Otherwise it was a waste; a waste of the anti tumour drugs, radiotherapy and scans. The treatment failed. I expected to be dead by the time I reached 16.

No one but Clarke and Wells knew about my illness, they came to visit me in medbay. Wells would steal things for Clarke to draw with and she would draw me pictures of the ground. We would read together, anything and everything.

Soon, it was time to face up to the fact I was dying. My once luxurious hair, the colour of burnt cinnamon and smooth and straight like silk was dry and splitting, with dirty roots from the lack of washing. Always tall and lanky, I was almost skeletal. My once plump lips which contained a wide smile were cracked and bleeding. Clarke and Wells were encouraged not to visit anymore. I begged to be allowed to see Bellamy, but the rigorous guard training meant he wouldn't be able to, said my father. I wrote him a letter that told him if I could've grown up I wanted to be beautiful like my mother and wear green at our wedding. I wanted Octavia to be there too, and everyone would have strawberries. I told him about everything I wanted to do, and apologised for not being able to do it.