AFTERMATH ...
536 days since Praimfaya.
Two months. Two months since Carl Emerson, and Madi still wasn't the same.
She had seemed okay, or as okay as someone who was kidnapped by one of the four last survivors on Earth could be, but the change was evident. She had spoken less, had become slightly more serious, and nightmares had plagued her every night—if the screaming alone wasn't testament to that already.
They had tried everything—from crafting to spear-fishing to scavenging—basically anything that could take the subject off Madi's mind. And sometimes, it had worked—sometimes, Madi was engaged and joyful and laughed when she could. But other times—other times, when her mind was set on those other subjects, when she was sad and sombre and wouldn't speak a word, it was near-impossible to wrench her out of those funks.
And now, Clarke and Madi were out spear-fishing—one of Madi's favourite pastimes, one that Clarke wholeheartedly supported for the amount of food it yielded—but Madi had been intensely quiet for the past 20 minutes, focusing on nothing but the fishing—whereas other times she would've grinned, conserved with Clarke about Skaikru and the ones above, and set competitions as to who can catch the most fish within 10 minutes? and such. Which was why Clarke felt so unsettled and it had felt so unusual, because Madi wasn't speaking and had been prodding the river halfheartedly, like she was trying to spear the algae instead of the fish.
And so, after half an hour had passed, Clarke was the one who broke the sombre silence.
''I-I never actually asked you this, but—did you learn how to spear-fish yourself?'' Clarke said, with a small, attempted chuckle, as Madi turned away momentarily from her algae-prodding to face her. ''Or-or did someone teach you?''
Madi was quiet for a moment, her spear teetering in her hand. ''Ai sis taught me,'' she mumbled, and refocused on the creek, spear held tightly in formation with her stance.
Oh. Oh. And as Clarke's brain stuttered for a response, her mouth worked before her words; and she realised that anything could be made worse when messed up enough. ''Ca-can you tell me her name?''
Madi didn't respond, but tore her eyes away from Clarke, and gazed at the creek. Way to go, Clarke. What a great conversation-starter you've got there.
''That's alright,'' Clarke reassured, trying her best to backtrack. Goddamnit, why did, out of all things, did she manage to bring THAT up?!
Madi still wouldn't meet her eyes. And it was then when she turned back away to face the creek, hefting the spear in her hand. Finally, all options out of the window, Clarke decided to just follow down the rocks and into the creek.
''Hey, do you want to race?'' she said, in an attempt to bring the Nightblood out of her thoughts. ''First one to spear five fishes win.''
Madi didn't respond but flickered her gaze away from Clarke. And Clarke felt all sorts of terrible things surge through her mind because really, she didn't mean to bring that back up and mess up Madi's composure. And then Clarke's gaze found her foot, because she couldn't meet her eyes, and then—
''You're on!'' Madi said with a grin, as she burst towards the other side of the creek, splashing water as she waded through the thin side of the river. And Clarke had to blink once, twice, to process what had just happened—and when she did, Clarke couldn't stifle back a smile as she yelled behind her, mock-offended: ''Wait up! That's cheating!''
Madi had only grinned under her breath—grinned enough, at least, that no-one could truly see the sadness that was the smile, so Clarke couldn't see that it had made her only sadder— and with a breath, waded on.
