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"You did not think to tell me of this?!'' Luna growled out, as she paced angrily around the abode, stopping ever so often to glare at Clarke.
Clarke ran her fingers across her hair, and pushed back a sigh. "It wasn't important then!'' she said, exasperated, as she stared at Luna from the far side.
Luna's face seemed to be in permanent disbelief, even as she glared at Clarke with rage that spoke of anger and murder alike. "I told you of my crimes. The trap, the resources, the stealing. Yet you would not admit to me something so simple as 1200 people's survival under a bunker?!'' she practically spat, but Clarke trained her gaze on her, despite how much she wanted to look away.
Luna still glared. "When it has nothing to do with you but of I?! When were you going to tell me of—not only your people—but of the Fleimkipas' survival underneath Mother Nature herself?''
Clarke heaved a breath. Calm down, she told herself. Calm down.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Don't think about them.
It didn't work.
"It has everything to do with me!'' Clarke said, her glare reverting to Luna. ''A hundred of my people are under there—and the leader of them all is Octavia Blake. It's not only personal for you Luna, it's personal for all of us.''
Luna didn't even seem to hear her; but darted her eyes around, and growled when it landed on Clarke. Threw her hands up, and stared back at her in a mix of ferality and disbelief. "If it's so personal, then why would you wish to deal with it at all?!"
Clarke felt exasperated. ''Because—because they're survivors, Luna! Survivors like us!"
"Not like us. Never say that they are like us,'' she spat, as if she was planting a dangerous line that Clarke was on the cusp of teetering through. "Not when they murder without doubt and slaughter innocents when they were in the surface. The dead stay buried, Clarke. We are not resurrecting revenants.''
"This is exactly why we didn't tell you! Because I knew you'd react like this! Revenge for the Fleimkipas and...'' she trailed off. Then, Clarke sighed, her gaze flittering away. "We could describe ourselves like that. Whether if you like it or not Luna, we're the same.''
Luna let out an irritated sigh. But suddenly; as quickly as it surfaced, it was gone; replaced with something else. Something cold. And as uneasiness swirled in Clarke's stomach, Luna said: "We are the same, then.'' she said, and Clarke felt unease prickle her heart. She cocked her head; seemed to smile, barely, and almost lightheartedly, as if she was speaking of a game rather than survival or lies or lives: "Tell me of all we have done to survive.''
Clarke didn't respond, but twisted her head away from Luna. She knew what Luna was doing; she didn't respond, yet, the thoughts swirled in her mind.
Carl Emerson.
Kidnapping Madi. Being a Maunon. He wanted to kill them all, so he could live.
But it wasn't just him. There was them.
The experiments. His death. So they could ensure their lives; so she and Lexa could survive.
Luna.
The trap. The one that caused so much chaos; all the drama that traced back to one point. Starving them to death, without another look back. To save her own skin; so she could live both times.
And them?
They tried to make Luna leave Shallow Valley. So they could live without an unknown variable to consider, something they couldn't calculate. They wanted her to leave, so they could save their own skins, if Luna ever raided their abode again, and left with Madi, and thus them behind.
