Hello friends! No idea how active the Clexa fandom is here on FFN but I decided to repost this just for fun. Post-2x14. Title from "Get Home" by Bastille. Reviews deeply appreciated.

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"I escaped Mount Weather once. I'm sure I can figure out how to get back in."

"I won't let you do this, Clarke," Abby insists. "There have already been so many times where I've nearly lost you; I won't let you intentionally put yourself in harm's way. Not now, not after everything we've been through."

Clarke shakes her head. "But that's just it, Mom. I killed Finn, I sent Bellamy into Mount Weather, and I let all of those people die in the missile attack. It's my turn to be a sacrifice."

"It's our turn," Lexa corrects and takes a step closer to her. "Clarke is right; this is a dangerous but necessary tactic, and the only way to earn back the trust we've lost."

Abby's eyes are on the ground now, but she doesn't argue.

"I didn't say 'we,'" Clarke replies.

"I did. Sacrifice is one thing, Clarke, but a foolish suicide mission is another. We will do this together."

Clarke looks at her for a long moment and takes a deep breath. "Fine."

Abby crosses her arms. "Clarke, are you absolutely sure about this? Bellamy's made it this far; I'm sure he can take care of himself."

"He has made it this far," Clarke agrees, "but just barely. We need him, and we need his intel from Mount Weather, and this is our insurance that will guarantee he makes it out alive."

Abby gets very, very still before taking a deep breath and nodding. "Okay. I'll have Raven radio Cage that we're ready to make the trade."

"Thank you," Clarke says quietly, and once Abby leaves the tent, she glances at Lexa. "You don't have to do this, Lexa. He only asked for me." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "And we don't even know if he's really captured Bellamy. We lost radio contact yesterday; Cage could know that. This could be a bluff."

"And if it is, then I will be there to help fight off whatever ambush he has planned." Lexa considers giving Clarke the entirety of the speech in her head, the one she'd take the time to say if it were anyone else, but for now she simply waits for Clarke to look her in the eye.

When she does, it makes Lexa's breath catch in her throat.

"Is it because we kissed?" Clarke asks, keeping her voice low. "Is that why—?"

"It's not about that," she interrupts gently. "Clarke, when that animal attacked and entrapped us in its feeding ground, you were the one who got us out of there alive even when I was ready for death." She takes a half-step closer and tries not to let her focus stray from Clarke's eyes. "No matter what happens in there," she declares, "I will get you out of Mount Weather alive."

Clarke worries her bottom lip and nods a few times, then plants a single, delicate kiss on Lexa's cheek before it occurs to Lexa to react. "I know," she whispers, turning away and heading for the entrance flaps. "Meet me at the west edge of camp in half an hour."

Then she's gone, and Lexa's cheek is still on fire.

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"So this is definitely a trap, right?"

They're standing before the hilltop entrance to the mountain, as per Cage's instructions, and nothing about this scenario feels safe or rational.

"I assume as much," Lexa mutters, wondering if her own guards have backed off like she ordered them to or if they're still lingering at the fringes of the woods, but then the heavy metal door creaks open and the time for wondering is over.

Two men in hazmat suits appear, only to freeze when they see Lexa. "This wasn't the arrangement," one of them calls out.

"We're giving you two new hostages for the price of one," Clarke says. "Do you really want to challenge that?"

The men exchange glances and finally beckon them forward, and Lexa is only slightly comforted by the fact that the men don't search or restrain them as they're led inside.

"We'll bring you to Bellamy to show you he's unharmed, and then he'll be free to go," the other man says without making eye contact.

"And what happens to us?" Clarke asks half-heartedly, and Lexa thinks she even senses a bit of snark beneath the words.

Both guards continue to face forward. "Bellamy is being held just down this corridor," says the one beside Lexa.

They take a right and head for an open doorway a few yards ahead. "Here," he announces, and they turn to enter the room, and Lexa has just enough time to see Cage smirking at them, Bellamy nowhere to be found, before everything goes dark and her hands are pulled behind her back and her wrists bound.

"You can't be all that surprised," Cage says, and Lexa hears him walking closer.

"Do I look even a little bit surprised to you?" Clarke deadpans from inside the cloth that's covering her own head.

The corner of Lexa's mouth twitches, but her amusement vanishes at the distinct sound of a fist's impact and a sharp grunt from Clarke.

"Welcome back to Mount Weather, Clarke." He snaps his fingers. "Dispose of their weapons and take them down the hall."

Strong hands grip Lexa's arms while someone takes her sword from its sheath, and now the hands force her back out of the room. She stumbles forward until she's turned around and pushed backwards into a chair, then her restraints are adjusted so she's tied to the cold metal frame.

The hood stays on, and she tries to quiet her breathing so she can hear what's happening.

"He's been hiding inside of these walls like a rat," Cage's voice says, "somehow always managing to evade my men whenever we're about to close in on him. What I need from you," he continues, "is a way to smoke him out."

"And what makes you think I'm going to cooperate?" Clarke asks, her words hard and fearless.

"A couple different reasons, actually. Number one," he begins, and a beat later Lexa hears another punch. "And then there's number two…" Clarke's grunt of pain is louder this time. "And my personal favorite, number three."

Now she cries out a little and Lexa can hear her breathing raggedly, and Lexa's nails dig into her palms.

"It's gonna take more than a few suckerpunches," Clarke manages, "to get me to betray my friend."

Cage sighs. "You know, I thought you might say that. But why don't we check in on your associate and see if she has an opinion about this." There's a few footsteps and then rough hands are jerking her head forward a fraction. "What say you, Commander? Do you have anything to contribute?"

"Only that I wish I could spit in your face," she says coldly.

This makes him laugh. "You kids are just too cute," he mutters, then yanks away the cloths.

It takes Lexa a moment to blink the world back into focus, and her stomach lurches when she sees Clarke's split lip and the blood trickling from her nose.

Cage tosses the cloths to the floor and leans over until he's inches away from Lexa. "Go ahead," he dares quietly, "try it."

The tendons in her neck are taut as she takes a deep breath, and at the first twitch of her lips, his knuckles pound into her left cheekbone. Her face throbs and she forces her head to stay upright, but then his other fist hits her right in the mouth and now she can taste blood.

She spits that at him instead.

He laughs again and wipes the crimson away with a handkerchief, then tucks it back into his jacket pocket. "I do appreciate you both being so brave," he begins, "but I need you to understand that at this point, it's in your best interests to cooperate." He digs into the inside of his jacket and takes out an earpiece, then presses a button and speaks into it like a microphone. "Mr. Bellamy Blake," he says slowly, pausing between each word for emphasis, "this is President Wallace speaking. I have something—well, someone—that belongs to you."

Clarke and Lexa exchange glances, and when Clarke faces forward again, Cage has the microphone in front of her face.

"Speak."

She just stares him down

"I said, speak."

She doesn't move, and now he gestures at a guard, who presses the tip of his gun to Clarke's head. "You won't shoot me," she says simply, keeping her voice down so the microphone won't pick it up. "You can't afford to."

The calm slowly fades from Cage's expression. "Clarke isn't up to saying hello right now," he says into the microphone, "but I think she'd really appreciate it if you paid us a visit at Level Five. You have yourself a lovely day, sir," he says pleasantly, only to pitch the microphone across the room and hit Clarke again. "Don't you see you're running out of options, here?" he snaps.

Clarke shakes her head, still looking a little dazed. "I think you're the one who's running out of options, President Wallace."

He crosses his arms as he glares at each of them in turn.

"You have no idea what we're capable of," Lexa growls.

The threat seems to have the opposite effect that she intends; he simply chuckles under his breath and circles behind them, and she thinks she hears him pick something up but she can't be sure.

"I know Clarke is capable of escaping this facility," he replies, still out of sight, "and I know Bellamy is capable of sneaking into this facility. But you know what? That's not the point."

He steps between their chairs, surveying them with his hands folded neatly behind his back; Lexa sees the glint of metal and her arms jerk against the restraints that she momentarily forgets are in place, but then the syringe is at Clarke's neck and her jaw falls open as Cage injects bright red liquid into her bloodstream.

Clarke's eyes roll back into her head and her body simultaneously stiffens and slumps over. After a moment her head lolls against her shoulder, and she remains limp as the guards untie her hands and pull her out of her chair.

"Where are you taking her?" Lexa demands, her clenched jaw all but pulverizing her teeth as she watches Clarke's feet drag along the floor.

Cage opens the door for the guards carrying her out, then smiles politely at Lexa. "Commander, I suggest you think long and hard about what we're capable of."

Lexa pulls at her restraints again and glares daggers at him, at this man who is likely responsible for the deaths of so many of her warriors, but then she sees Clarke curl her foot loosely around the doorframe, like she's trying not to let them take her away, and Lexa shouts her name before she can stop herself.

"You see this?" Cage asks softly, stopping the guards for a moment so he can play with a lock of Clarke's hair. "Clarke doesn't live here anymore."

Then they're gone and the door slams behind them, and Lexa thinks she might be shaking.