DAY THIRTEEN

It was dark when Clarke opened her eyes again, though she could tell that there was a light somewhere nearby. She blinked rapidly and tried to turn her head but found that, when she did, pain shot through her with a crippling affect. She let out a groan and suddenly a face hovered above hers, concern etched into its' features. It was the face of a woman older than Clarke, likely in her mid-twenties. She had almond shaped eyes that were a swirling hazel color that absolutely captivated the younger woman. Her long, dirty blonde hair was pulled back in braids and she was dressed in furs. She's a grounder, the younger woman thought.

"Yu ste klir, Klark kom Skaikru," the woman said in a smooth, sultry voice. She dabbed at Clarke's head with a wet cloth and smiled lightly.

"I don't understand," the younger woman whispered hoarsely.

"I said, you are safe, Clarke of the Sky People."

"How-how do you know my name?"

"We have been watching you, all of you. Do not worry, I will not hurt you."

Clarke had a hard time believing that. Still, this woman was treating her wounds.

"Why are you helping me?"

"I do not know," her voice sounded extremely frustrated and Clarke could tell that she was telling the truth. Whatever the reason, the young woman was thankful, and she tried to convey that with her eyes. The other woman lifted her head and wrapped it in what felt like a bandage and Clarke realized that she must have cut it open. When the bandage was secure, the woman helped her sit up and handed her a clay cup filled with water to drink from. "My name is Anya."

"Thank you for helping me, Anya. How long was I asleep?"

"Several hours. I considered leaving you near your camp but I was afraid that you would die. Are you hungry?"

"I probably shouldn't eat any solid foods after the likely concussion that I have."

"Yu fisa?"

"What?"

"You are a healer?"

"Kind of. Our healers are called doctors. My mother is a doctor and I've learned a lot from her. I wish I knew more but I'm doing what I can. I'm just trying to keep my people alive."

"That is admirable, and I know how it feels. I lead my people as well, and I know the burden that leading puts on you. Do not worry, you are strong."

"I got knocked out by a tree."

"It was a tough tree," Anya smiled, though Clarke thought that it was likely an expression that was quite foreign to her face. "How do you feel?"

"Like I might blow chunks, but my headache is getting better."

"I have something for that."

The grounder woman reached behind her and picked up a bowl filled with yellow leaves. Clarke's immediate thought was that it could be poisonous but she figured that if Anya was going to kill her she would have done it already. She chewed them and moved her head to look, inspecting her surroundings. She was in a small tent, laid out on a pallet of animal furs. There was not much else, other than Anya's weapons, which she had taken off and laid near the opening.

"Can you walk?" Anya asked.

"I think so," the younger woman nodded as she shakily tried to stand up. Anya caught her and held her up, pressed into a supple chest. "Thank you."

"You do not need to thank me, Klarm kom Skaikru. I am afraid that you will not make it back to your camp on your own. I will carry you."

"My people will kill you. I'll make it back okay."

"You will not," and suddenly Clarke was being lifted by strong arms under her back and knees. She wrapped her arms around Anya's neck and rested her head on the woman's shoulder. This woman, this grounder leader, was so gentle with her, even though she could tell that she was an extremely fierce warrior. Clarke breathed in and smiled, the smell of the older woman filling her nostrils, fresh earth, trees, and flowers.

When they were near the camp Anya sat her down, placing her hands on the younger woman's waist to steady her. Clarke looked up into hazel eyes and sighed, "Will I ever see you again?"

"I will not be far. I will be watching you," she said gently, tucking a strand of hair behind Clarke's ear with a smile. "Should you ever need me, all you must do is call out. I will find you."

"Thank you, Anya."

The older woman leant down and pressed a soft kiss into Clarke's cheek before backing away into the tree line. The blonde sighed wistfully and turned, heading back towards her camp. When she passed through the gates she was knocked to the ground by a dense, firm body. Her brother buried his head in her chest and wrapped his arms tightly around her midsection.

When she finally got her brother off of her, Clarke did her best to explain what had happened. He did not understand why the grounder had done what she did, but neither did he. Bellamy sent Thallan out to find the search party and they returned just as dawn was breaking. Monty cam to tell them that Chancellor Jaha was on the communication system and wanted to talk to her. She just rolled her eyes and walked off to the drop ship, her mind on hazel eyes and braided blonde hair.

TJ, Striker, and Monty had been working on a special project and, after some last minute stitching, they were finally finished. After having the idea the week before, they now had a ball. They had made it with some left over insulation from the drop ship wrapped in deer skin and it had a mechanism that they could use to inflate it. None had ever actually seen or played with a ball, but they had all watched hundred year old soccer games on the Ark and were excited to try it.

TJ and Striker were able to round up enough people that were on break to play a quick game in the empty space behind the drop ship. No one was entirely sure on the rules but they set up two sticks on either ends of the clearing for goals, picked teams, and decided that they did not need rules. They were going to wing it. The younger boys got everyone excited and soon all who were not on guard duty were standing around watching, waiting for their turn to play, or talking to their parents on the radio.

Clarke knew that she was hallucinating when she saw her father but she could not tell whether Anya was real or not. she fell into the woman's arms and nuzzled her neck, practically purring. She was high and the grounder was not truly there, so it did not matter what she did. At least, that's what she thought. She felt strong arms wrap around her and she smiled.

"You are unwell," the taller woman observed. Clarke was only a few inches shorter than average, at five feet and two inches tall, but the other woman stood at least six inches taller than her. "What have you had to eat today?"

"Some nuts, do you want some?" Clarke slurred, reaching into her pocket and offering them to the other woman.

"Clarke, these are poisonous. When they go bad, they cause you to have visions."

"Obviously, I mean, you're not really here."

"No, I am really here and you are really messed up. I need to get you out of here."

Clarke stepped back and shook her head, her mind beginning to clear. When she looked to find that Anya was, indeed, real her face broke out into a grin. She began placing guns and ammunition into her bag and slung it on to her back. She considered giving a riffle to the grounder but the other woman was looking at them as if they would bite her and so she figured that she would not chance it. They were heading towards the exit when Dax rounded the corner with a gun.

The delinquent took a quick moment to assess the situation before he lifted the gun and shot Anya. Clarke screamed and kneeled next to her to inspect the wound when the gun connected with the back of her head, knocking her temporarily unconscious. When she woke up the boy was gone and the woman under her was bleeding heavily. She ripped off several strips of cloth from her shirt and tied them around Anya's stomach to bandage the wound. The woman was unconscious and Clarke knew that she would not be able to carry her and so she went up the ladder to find Bellamy to help her.

She took a gun with her but ended up not needing it. After Dax was dead, she began to explain, "When we go back down there, you're going to see something that's going to shock the hell out of you and I don't want you to worry, okay? When I was out hunting yesterday I fell and hit my head-"

"That's why you're wearing the headband," Bellamy realized. "It's a bandage."

"Yes, it is. I feel out of a tree and hit my head. A woman found me, took me to her tent, and tended to my wounds. She's uh, she's a grounder. He shot her. Please, you have to help me."

"We tortured one of them, why would they want to help us?"

"We're all human, Bell."

The man thought about that for a moment before nodding and following Clarke down the hatch. Anya, thankfully, was only carrying a sword and so she did not appear as menacing, especially asleep. Bellamy picked up the grounder and Clarke began placing guns in the remaining bags that they had brought, as many as she could carry. When they were ready, they took off back towards their camp.

They did their best to slip in unnoticed but the Hundred were practically rioting at finding the grounder that they had captured missing. Bellamy transferred the older woman to Clarke and took the guns, going out to talk to their people while the young blonde took Anya into the drop ship. Her brother came in and looked upon their patient apprehensively but she merely sent him away for water and clean bandages.

The bullet had gone straight through her her upper stomach and had not hit any many organs, but she had lost a lot of blood on the journey back. Clarke cauterized, cleaned, and bandaged the wound but she was afraid that it was not enough. The woman needed a blood transfusion and they did not have the equipment to give her one. Clarke could only hope that she would survive long enough for her body to replenish her blood naturally.