"Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here
Even if it takes all night or a hundred years
Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near
Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear
Isn't it lovely, all alone?
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
Tear me to pieces, skin to bone
Hello, welcome home"
-Lovely, Billie Eilish and Khalid
*****
The run doesn't help her anger settle.
Neither does the training. Not the fists against bark until her knuckles bleed, not the blades imbedding themselves into trees until she can't lift her arm without a sharp ache.
Hours later, the fury still simmers beneath Ash's skin, hot and sharp, coiled like a spring in her chest. It's not the kind of rage that explodes and burns out. This is quieter. Heavier. It just sits there. Waiting.
She doesn't let herself scream, or cry, or fall apart. Not yet.
Not until she figures out a way inside that mountain.
Not until Bellamy and her friends are free.
She will get them out.
She will kill for them. She will die for them.
But she won't die easy.
She's crouched near the edge of camp, sharpening a blade that's already sharp enough, when the crunch of leaves behind her draws her attention. She doesn't hesitate. The knife whistles through the air, embedding itself in the tree beside someone's head.
A warning shot.
She regrets it instantly.
Clarke stands frozen a few paces away, hands raised, expression unreadable.
Ash stays where she is, reaching for another knife without a word.
"I know you don't want to see me right now," Clarke says carefully, voice taut. "Probably never again."
"That's the understatement of the year," Ash mutters, twirling the blade in her hand. Her tone is casual, but her eyes never leave Clarke's face.
Clarke winces but doesn't back away. "I have a plan. It's not great, it's barely even formed, but it might get us in--"
"Spit it out or go away," Ash snaps. Her voice is low, rough. Something inside her wants to see Clarke wince again, but a different part hates herself for it.
She thinks of Unity Day Clarke, and the Clarke who stands in front of her now. Then she thinks of herself on Unity Day, a version of herself that seems so far away from the Ash she is now.
Clarke swallows. "Octavia never followed Indra's orders to retreat. She's still at the entrance. That's our way in."
Ash doesn't trust Clarke. Not anymore. But she trusts Octavia. Loyal to the end. Brave, reckless, maybe even a little stupid when it comes to her brother, something she and Ash share.
And so, Ash stands, tugging the knife from the bark. "Fine. Lead the way."
They walk without speaking. The silence is worse than yelling. It's filled with things neither of them are ready to say. Things Ash isn't sure they'll ever be able to say.
Eventually, Clarke breaks it.
"Your Grounder friend, Smith, was in Ton DC," she says quietly. Not a question, but a statement.
Ash doesn't reply.
"Did he die right away?"
The memory hits like a knife to the ribs. Ash sees it again. The flash of fire catching on his shirt and rapidly spreading. The scream—that scream—as the flames spread. The way his body seized, face contorted in pain. The smell of burning skin and metal. The look in his eyes when the life started to slip away, and she could do nothing. Nothing while trapped.
YOU ARE READING
somewhere | b.blake ✔️
Fanfiction"somewhere there's peace, they just have to find it." in which a girl whose smile is the brightest of them all finds herself falling in love with a curly haired boy on a planet that isn't supposed to be survivable. [SEASONS ONE TO TWO COMPLETED] hig...
