One shot.

A body falling to the ground.

The last hope for the Skaikru ripped from her hands by a mere steel bullet.

Clarke remembers screaming, but from who, she didn't know. She turned to the woman who had been her captor for the past few days. Fuzzily-lined memories of the time she spent with Anya were brought to mind as Clarke knelt beside her. Anya's spluttering left flecks of blood on Clarke's cheeks.

"Anya, I'm so sorry." Clarke cried. Shuffling and yelling came behind her, but they weren't close enough for her to go into full defense mode. Clarke opened the buttons of Anya's tunic and gauged the damage done to her chest. "Oh, God." Clarke sobbed.

Anya's bullet wound was bleeding heavily. Clarke guessed it hit near the heart and not through it since Anya was still breathing. However, if Clarke couldn't get her help soon, that small hope would be stomped out.

Brown eyes peered up to Clarke's, and for the first time Clarke saw that they were full of fear and shock. "Cl-Clarke..." Anya whispered. Her throat had to have been choked up with her own blood. "Clarke." Anya finished. Her eyes were fluttering and Clarke cursed.

"You can't leave me, Anya. Not when we've come this far. I won't let you die!" Clarke growled out. With a renewed strength, Clarke gathered the limp Anya in her arms and moved towards the glow in the distance. Anya had repaid Clarke's life debt with her own, and now here was Clarke saving Anya again. This time though, Clarke didn't feel like she needed to be repaid for this one.

A mob with guns and flashlights appeared in front of Clarke. She recognized them as members of the Arc and she glared at them. "Out of my way!"

A man who appeared to be the leader of the group stepped in front of Clarke. "Clarke? What? How are you here? Who is that?"

Clarke recognized the man as Kane. "That is none of your concern! You shot an innocent, now get the fuck out of my way!" She spat.

His eyes lit up and a glaze settled on them. The loss of three hundred caused by his hands weren't forgotten. He moved to the side and snapped back into focus. "Didn't you hear her? This woman is dying! Radio back to the Arc and tell Abby to prepare a blood transfusion as well as her operating table."

Clarke tensed at the mentioning of her mother, but pressed on. She could still feel the breath of Anya on her face, but it was weakening. She needed time.

The group arrived at the fallen Arc and Clarke and Anya were immediately taken in to the hospital bay. Her mother was hanging up an IV drip beside the operating table when Clarke arrived. Abby gasped and blinked a few times as if she couldn't believe that Clarke was standing before her. "Clarke? Oh, honey, I-"

She was cut off by Clarke's commanding voice. "Not now. She needs help."

Abby nodded but shot Clarke a glance, just to make sure she wasn't an illusion. "What happened to her?"

"Your old buddy Kane thought it would be wise to shoot an innocent woman." She snarled as the man mentioned stood by Abby.

He grimaced and glared at Clarke. "She's a grounder, Clarke. They're dangerous!" He tried to defend his actions.

"I know that more than anyone, yet I'm still trying to save her!" Clarke retorted. Abby's patience with this argument was wearing thin. All she knew was that there was a dying woman in her presence and this fighting wasn't helping.

Abby snapped. "If you both don't mind, I need to get to work. Clarke, hold her down. We don't have time to give her any morphine, not to mention that I don't even think we have any."

Clarke did as she was told and the tears were finally flowing freely. "Don't give up, Anya. Please." Clarke whispered.

Doctors in scrubs were flitting about, carrying medicine in syringes, but few were used for Anya's operation. Abby handed Clarke a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "Find a vein, inject it."

Clarke nodded and wrapped a rubber band around Anya's arm. She flicked the needle and traced Anya's veins until she found one that could handle the injection. "What is this stuff?"

"Blood-clotters. She needs to keep as much blood as she can in her body. She's already lost more than a pint." Abby huffed. The pressure was very much on and she was in the zone. Anya's chest was slowly moving, but it was moving and that relieved Clarke. "I'm going to need you to grab a rag and placed it over the wound after I pull out the bullet. Do you think you can do that?"

Clarke nodded. "Absolutely." Abby finished previous workings and grabbed medical tongs from her tray.

"Ready?" Abby asked and at Clarke's dip of her head, she pulled the bullet out slowly. Anya's eyes flashed open in a frenzy, taking in the full brunt of the pain and her surroundings. She howled with ache and nurses were called to help hold her down. Clarke applied the rag down on the wound and Anya flickered her eyes towards her prisoner.

Tears threatened to spill out her brown hues but they stilled when they met Clarke's. "Clarke." Anya choked out.

"Hush, Anya. We're trying to help you. Save your strength. It's almost over." Clarke promised and stroked Anya's jaw. That seemed to abate Anya's fears for the time being.

Abby moved Clarke's hands once the blood seemed to come to a stop. She breathed deeply, relieved that the bullet hadn't but grazed the heart. She began to stitch up the area of Anya's heart where the bullet had scraped against, then stitched her skin together. "She needs a blood transfusion." Abby muttered to one of the nurses as she glanced over to her daughter. Clarke seemed to barely be keeping it together and it killed her mother. If Abby had been more practical, she would have asked Clarke to leave, but she decided it was better for Clarke to be here instead of going crazy in the waiting room.

The nurse brought back a blood bag and hooked it up to the IV drip. Abby opened one of Anya's veins quickly and pushed a tube in. Anya twisted her head towards Abby and growled lowly.

"I'm sorry, but this is how we get the blood in quickly." Abby frowned sympathetically.

The blood poured down through the tube and Anya's glare relented. She turned her gaze to Clarke, her eyes filled with gratitude. Clarke gave her a watery chuckle and pulled a chair to sit next to her. "Told you you'd be okay, didn't I? I told you I wasn't going to give up on you." She smirked, but the happiness swimming in her eyes betrayed it.

Anya's voice came out in choppy sentences, but clearer than it had been. "Mochof, skai prisa." She whispered to Clarke who smiled back at her. Anya turned her head to Abby. "When can I leave?"

Clarke's attention finally returned at the sound of Abby's scoff. "You are barely alive!" Abby exclaimed. "You might have to rest for a few days before you're even able to walk."

Anya grit her teeth and eyed Abby angrily. "If your soldier hadn't shot at me, I would be able to move around just fine!" She groaned at her movement from getting riled up. Clarke laid her back onto the table with a pleading look. Anya slacked in response and continued to pierce Kane's eyes with daggers from her own.

Kane shuffled in place uncomfortably. "All I saw were two unknown targets. I do apologize, however, that I didn't take the time to survey the situation." He mumbled.

Clarke burned holes in his eyes. "You can't simply apologize for something like this! She did nothing to you! I'm surprised she hasn't leaped off the table and demanded your blood."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, prisa. I still fully intend on doing just that." Anya threatened.

After checking Anya's levels and being satisfied with them approaching stability, Abby pulled up a chair and sat in it, flipping through the pages of a book. All three eyes were staring at her in disbelief. "What? I have no interest in this fight."

Kane frowned. "Well, aren't you going to back me up?"

Abby arched an eyebrow at him. "Whose bullet was it, Kane?" She reprimanded with a slight inflection on his name. He winced and put his hands up.

"I have apologized for my mistake. That is all I can do." Kane sighed and left the room, shooting one last look behind him as he left.

Both Clarke and Anya released a breath they didn't know they had been holding. Anya's scrutinizing gaze landed on the hand gripping her right hand. Clarke instantly released her grip on Anya's hand, both were slightly upset at the loss of contact.

Abby watched the interaction with a mother's eye. Suspicion coiled in her chest and she stood. She decided to interrupt, which the two other girls were secretly grateful for. "Clarke, I missed you."

Clarke gave her the barest of smiles, but it was more than the cold tone she had last given her mother. Clarke walked over to Abby and accepted the invitation of a hug. Clarke shook both her and Abby's body with quiet sobs.

Anya scrunched up her nose and tried to land her eyes on anything else in the room. Suddenly, she felt like she was intruding on this private moment. However, a certain green envy awakened in her and she flashed her eyes back to Abby's formed who had been comforting Clarke. Surely this isn't her mate, Anya thought. She is much too old.

Clarke wiped at her eyes furiously and pulled back from her mother's embrace. "I missed you too."

Abby's heart leaped and she moved her shaking hands to Clarke's cheeks, wiping the tears away. "I love you very much, my little star."

A blush made its appearance on Clarke's face. "Not in front of company." She gave a low, pitiful whine. Abby chuckled and gave Clarke one last parting embrace.

"I'll be back with food. I'm sure your friend is tired, Clarke. I bet you are too." Abby eyed Anya who had been watching the scene with mild interest. "What is your name? I did save your life, after all." Abby snorted.

Anya's eyes jumped from Clarke's to Abby's and was met with a steely gaze. "Anya." She simply replied.

Abby nodded and appeared to have thoughts buzzing in her head as she escaped the room.

Clarke plopped back down into the chair beside Anya. Her eyes landed on Anya's stitches and a heavy guilt made its home on Clarke's heart. "I'm so sorry, Anya. If I had any idea that this would happened, I would've never brought you here."

Anya stared at the blonde with questioning eyes. "It was not your fault. Why would you apologize for something that was not in your control?"

"I, well, I-I don't know. I could've done something? That bullet was meant for me. Why did you step in front of me? I would rather be in your place right now." Clarke whimpered softly.

Anya's lips tightened into straight lines. "There was nothing you could have done, Clarke. It is what it is. For your question, I cannot answer that. I do not even know it myself." Anya admitted quietly. "I am glad that you are not the one on this table."

Clarke reared her head back with confusion. "Why don't you wish it was me? You owed me nothing."

"You'd be too weak to fight for your life, skai prisa." Anya smirked.

Clarke pouted slightly but could think of no comeback. "Thank you, Anya. Y'know, for everything."

Anya shrugged it off and tried to sit up but was met with a hot, shooting pain in her chest. Clarke rushed to lay her back down. "Not now, Anya. Rest easy." Clarke smiled cheekily. Anya rolled her eyes, but relaxed her body and closed her eyes. She was so, so tired. The journey here was no walk in the park, coupled with the fact that she took a bullet to the fucking chest and for what? For this girl that she barely knew? Clarke had saved her life back at the mountain, but Anya had saved her life by bringing her back home. Yes, Clarke had forced her to, but she still counted it as saving Clarke's life. Then she went and got herself shot for the girl. Anya had to confess to herself, if no one else, that she was growing a soft spot for this mysterious girl. She was suspicious of what that woman, Abby, meant to Clarke. Anya felt a sickening in her stomach that she hadn't felt in years. She looked over to Clarke who seemed to be immersed in a drawing of hers and she sighed to herself quietly. Anya was deeply trouble, it seemed.

"Who was that woman, Clarke?" Anya inquired. Her curiosity, well, jealousy, had overcame her pride.

Clarke raised an eyebrow at Anya. "My mother. Why?"

Relief flooded all of Anya's senses. Why? She knew. But that didn't mean she wanted to admit it.

"I do not know. It helps me settle in better." Anya lied. She was on edge, but not as much as she was.

Clarke seemed to accept that response and went back to being distracted by whatever she was doing. Anya didn't care to really find out. Anya shut her eyes, breathing one last breath before sleep overtook her.