Adjusting to Reality

Chapter 1

A/N: ...I have no excuse except the truth, which is I was stuck for awhile. Like, I have this mostly planned out, but words are hard, okay? Plus, I keep getting new ideas for other fics and oneshots and originals, which get in the way for this...

Anyway, have this thing, finally, and enjoy! more to come, I am not finished with this, I have soooo many plans!

votes and comments fuel my motivation. If I don't think/know anyone is actually interested, I won't write anymore, so let me know please!

Thanks! You're all really awesome!

~Chris

**Earth; Mount Weather cages, sometime in October, 2149**

Everything was wrong. This was not… she wasn’t supposed to be here. She was bringing the remaining survivors of Skaikru back to Polis. She was supposed to be home now, in the arms of her wife, watching her adopted children play. She was supposed to be trying to find a way to convince her wife that the two of them should properly court Raven. She was supposed to be in the Tower, talking to Heda about the inevitable invasion of the people of Natalie’s first home. She was supposed to be training Tris, teaching her the ways of the gona.

Everything hurt. All she knew now was pain. She had no concept of time, she had no idea how long she’d been in the cage. She only knew that she wasn’t alone. She was surrounded by people, her people, all caged, all in pain, all weak.

They got only enough food to survive, not enough to stave off the hunger that had settled. They got just enough water to stay hydrated, but not nearly enough to chase the thirst away. If they stopped moving, the Maunon came and took them away. If they moved too much, the Maunon came and took them away. More often than not, the Maunon came and hung one of them up on some hooks, putting tubes into them, and bled them as dry as they could without killing them. Only, sometimes it still killed them.

Anya stayed quiet, watching it all, trying to learn the schedules of the people with guns. Trying to determine when would be best to attack and get her people out. It was proving difficult; the times they appeared seemed to be at random, and it was hard to tell how long they stayed and when they switched with no way to tell what time of the day or night it was.

When Clarke came for her, she tried to argue, tried to convince the Sky Girl to free her people as well, but she brought up a good point; they were all too weak, and they couldn’t risk getting caught. So she left, following the blonde through corridors, through tunnels. She despaired at the pile of bodies they found in the cart, one a mere boy, still alive. She held in her grief as she whispered to him, snapping his neck. “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

She tried to find her own way out, sure that she could, that she knew better, but came to multiple dead ends before she finally just turned back and searched for her rescuer. She found her -almost ran her over- along with guards with guns. They ran as far and as fast as they could, and when they came to an opening, the only escape route they had found so far, she didn’t hesitate to jump into the river below. She prayed to the spirits that either she would make it home or be returned to them. She prayed that the girl had followed her, rather than let herself get caught, because death had to be better than that.

Anya swam to shore as soon as she got her bearings, and she found Clarke floating along, almost drowning. She pulled the blonde out and woke her up, and they set out back to Polis. They were followed, even when they hid their scents the Maunon found them again, and Clarke found where they had put a piece of tek in her arm. She didn’t bother with trying to find something sharp; she sunk her teeth into her skin and ripped the damn thing out, ignoring the copper tang of her own blood.