sɪx : ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss ɪs ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ
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Clara wakes up the next day feeling gross and grimy. Her dark skin is oily, her hair feels matted, and she has been wearing the same clothes for the past few days. So, in the late morning while a group of delinquents go off to hunt for more food, Clara leaves camp in the direction of the waterfall they came across the day before. It doesn't take too long before she arrives, but with the sun beating down on her neck, it feels like forever.

Clara carefully unties her sling with one hand before making a stack of her clothes on a rock. She stays in her undergarments and a tank top, not wanting to be completely vulnerable to whoever lurks in the forest. When the cold water falls over her shoulders for the first time, she feels her whole body go into shock at the low temperature. Goosebumps immediately rise to her skin, but the cold actually feels soothing, especially on her sore shoulder.

Her hair sticks to her face as she lets the water fall over her. It washes away all the dirt and sweat she has been living with since their arrival to earth. It was only the other day, but it feels like a lifetime. She can't imagine going back to living in a place as suffocating as the Ark or even living with a bunch of adults. Down on the ground, Bellamy is the only actual adult, and he's only twenty. The system the kids have on the ground seems to be working well enough so far, considering no one has killed anyone yet. Sure, Jasper is still critically injured, but that was a result of a different group of people. Clara has hopes for their future on the ground, but she can't ignore the gut feeling she has that something is bound to go wrong soon enough.

As she finishes washing off, Clara takes her damp clothes on the rock and sets the out in the grass to dry. She rubs a few wildflowers over them to help with the smell, though she doubts her efforts will actually do anything.

Clara sits at the edge of the small lake with her feet in the water as she waits for her clothes to dry. The sun soaks into her cold skin, warming her up from her freezing shower.

The sound of birds' wings flapping draws her attention from the rippling water to the sky. Above the trees, a whole flock of birds soars above her. Nothing about that strikes her as odd, but then different woodland creatures—a few squirrels, insects, and a deer—come bounding out of the tree line behind her. Clara shoots up to her feet, her body on high alert as she scans the woods. A distant horn echoes through the trees.

A dense fog with a yellow undertone slowly emerges from behind the trees. Clara's brow furrows as she steps towards it, her curiosity getting the best of her. She halts in her steps when she sees a large cockroach-like bug shrivel up and die when exposed to the fog. As soon as she sees that, Clara turns and bolts towards the water fall. The fog nips at her heels until she jumps behind the water in the small crevice the rocks form. She watches the wall of water anxiously with her heart pumping out of her chest. Thankfully, the water keeps the fog out.

Clara leans back against the rocky wall and catches her breath. "Oh man," she whispers, closing her eyes.

Grounders and acid fog? The earth may not be soaked in radiation anymore, but that doesn't mean it isn't deadly.

Time escapes Clara as the minutes turn into hours. She doesn't dare peek out of the wall of water in case the fog is still out there. Trapped behind the waterfall, Clara sits in the corner and wraps her arms around her legs, letting her eyes slowly close. Sleep isn't something that comes easy to her, but in that cave with nothing but the sound of rushing water with it gently spraying against her skin, she finds enough peace to fall asleep.

★

Clara jolts awake from a nightmare. The back of her head hits the wall of the crevice and she winces, cursing the rock under her breath.

When she recollects her memory of why she's hidden behind the water fall, she sighs and pushes herself up to her feet with her bad arm pressed against her chest. She has no idea how long she has been asleep or what time of day it is. For all she knows, it could be in the middle of the night. The water blocks out almost all the light from the outside, so it could be pitch black outside and she'd never know.

Clara doesn't plan on finding out anytime soon, but then a sound from the other side of the water catches her attention. When she realizes it's a bird, she assumes the fog must be gone and cautiously sticks a hand out. Feeling no burning, Clara steps all the way out, her dry body becoming drenched in seconds. She blinks the water droplets out of her eyelashes and looks around.

"Finally," she breathes, seeing the air clear. She glances up and notices the sky turning striking colors of orange and pink. The sun isn't visible yet, but its rays peek out from the East. "Great, I wasted an entire day out here."

Clara finds her clothes she set out to dry and smiles to herself upon realizing there isn't a drop of water on them anymore. She slips them on and wrings out her hair like a rag before throwing the curly mess into a puffy ponytail.

She finds camp easily. The leaves crumple under her boots as she returns to her new community. No one spares her a second glance—that is, no one but a certain Blake girl with a red ribbon in her hair.

"How are you still alive?" Octavia's voice reaches Clara's ears. The older girl turns, her eyes falling on Octavia with a gleeful expression.

"I'm immortal," Clara replies, making Octavia smile, then adds, "Plus, I found a little cave-thing behind the waterfall. I'm assuming you guys got hit by that funky fog as well?"

"Funky is one way to describe it." Octavia steps over to Clara and sets her hands on her hips. "Yeah, we had to close everyone in the drop-ship." She stops, bites her lip, then asks, "You didn't happen to see Bellamy out there, did you?"

Before Clara has a chance to respond, someone shouts, "They're back!"

Octavia's gaze go over Clara's shoulder. Clara turns, her eyes falling on a group of people entering camp. Among them are Clarke, Bellamy, and Charlotte—the small girl that Clara shared her berries with. Clara's breath hitches in her throat as she notices a Miller and another boy carrying a concealed body.

Octavia, oblivious to the covered body on the stretcher, rushes forward with confidence in her step. She steps up to Clarke and says, "It's about time, they were going to kill Jasper. Did you get the medicine?"

Clara's eyebrows shoot up at that. How much did she miss while she was at the waterfall?

Clarke nods slowly, her gaze unsettling like she has seen a ghost. "Yeah, I . . . I got it. Come on. Let's go talk." The blonde girl tries to pull Octavia towards the drop ship, but Octavia ignores Clarke and heads for her brother.

He grips her upper arm and holds her back. A pleading glint in his eyes, he says lowly, "Octavia, just stay there." She struggles against his grip, so he adds, "Please, stay back."

Clara watches their interaction with a churning stomach. She didn't know who the boy under the tarp is, but she still feels the pain from Octavia's reaction. The younger Blake clasps her hand over her mouth and spins on her heel when she sees the body, tears gathering in her eyes. Bellamy reaches out for her, but she pushes him away, shouting, "Don't touch me!"

Octavia stumbles into Clara's unsuspecting arms—well, arm. Octavia's body shakes with sobs as she sniffles and latches onto Clara like she has known her for ages. Clara blinks once, twice, before processing the situation and immediately wrapping her good arm around Octavia. Clara's hand rubs soothing circles in her back like she did for Rez when he was upset when they were younger. Clara's eyes flicker up and meet Bellamy's.

He watches the two, mainly Octavia, with pain. Clara isn't sure if it's because of the life that was lost, it's effect on his sister, or something else. Whatever it is, it's tearing him apart on the inside.

"What's going on?" Rez's voice comes from her right. "Octavia, are you okay?"

Octavia shakes her head as she clutches onto Clara tighter. The latter sends a look to Rez, and although he wants to stay and make sure she's okay, he sighs and walks off. Clara gives him a grateful smile before slowly pulling herself away from Octavia.

"Hey, let's get out of the middle of camp, yeah?" She murmurs once she realizes everyone's invasive stares. Octavia nods and wipes the tears off her cheeks, letting Clara lead her behind the drop ship. Once they're out of everyone's view, Clara takes Octavia's hand and has her sit down against the metal wall of the ship with her.

Both girls lean their backs against the cool metal. Octavia presses her knees against her chest and rubs her eyes raw. "I'm so sorry I'm pulling you into this, I just—I just don't know what to do, everything is so overwhelming," Octavia rambles as she cries. "Jasper could be dying and Atom died and, and—"

"Hey," Clara soothes, her voice gentle. "You need to breathe, okay? I know it hurts, but just breathe."

Octavia squeezes her eyes shut and leans her head back against the side of the drop ship. Her chest rises as she inhales.

"I spent my whole life under the floors, you know?" Octavia croaks. She opens her eyes and glances at Clara listening intently beside her. "I never got to experience any type of relationships, not even friendships. I guess I get attached too easily. And with Atom, I . . . I thought it was love. That's why it hurts so much, I think."

Clara nods, smiling softly. "I get what you mean, but you're strong, O."

Octavia bites her lip and shrugs. "It just sucks. I hate this."

Clara, not really knowing what else to say, just takes Octavia's hand and squeezes it for comfort. With Rez, sometimes not talking was the best remedy for sadness and bad times. She lets the silence settle over them until she hears Octavia start to cry again. When she turns and sees tears running down her round face, her shoulders shaking, Clara reaches forward with her good arm and hugs the girl close to her.

It's the evening when Octavia runs out of tears. Clara is by her side the whole time, keeping her from completely falling apart. Octavia pulls herself back together and takes a deep breath, look up at Clara with tired eyes. "Does it look like I've been crying?"

Clara shakes her head. "No, but even if it did, it wouldn't matter. It's normal to cry when someone passes."

Octavia looks away. "I just don't want to be weak. Weakness down here is death."

Clara doesn't respond, not knowing how to.

Octavia heaves our a breath before standing. Clara follows her lead.

"I'm going to go see Jasper, want to come?" The younger girl asks Clara with a tremble in her voice.

Clara nods. "Yeah, you think he's doing better with that medicine you mentioned earlier?"

"I hope so," Octavia murmurs and starts to walk around to the front of the drop ship with Clara at her side. She pushes the tarps draped in front of the opening aside and immediately goes to Jasper's side. Clara hangs around Clarke, not sure what to do with herself. Jasper, shirtless, is lying unconscious on the metal table. Clarke, Finn, Monty, and Wells are all inside the drop ship as well. They're scattered around the first floor, a bottle with a murky liquid inside being passed around the teens.

Finn hands the bottle to Clara. She takes it and lifts it to her nose to smell. Her nose crinkles in disgust, wondering where in the world they found alcohol. "Yeah, no, I'm good." She passes it on to Clarke.

As Clarke takes the bottle, she looks up at Octavia. "I'm really sorry about Atom."

Octavia, her whole demeanor different from minutes ago, looks indifferent. "I guess we're gonna have to get used to people dying down here, aren't we?" Her eyes flicker to Jasper. She softens. "But not you, you hear me? You're not allowed to die."

Clara sits on a metal chair next to Jasper and rests her elbow on the table. Octavia sits on the floor beside Finn, her eyes lingering on Jasper as his chest slowly rises and falls.

Clarke passes the bottle to Finn after taking a swig. The brunet takes a swig as well, coughing afterwards. "Smooth."

Octavia reaches out and takes the bottle from Finn. She downs a few gulps before taking it away from her lips. "Disgusting. Love it."

A corner of Clara's lips twitch, amused, but then she jumps when a croaky voice beside her coughs, "Can I, uh, get a hit of that?"

Clarke and Octavia spring up. "Jasper!" Octavia exclaims, forgetting all about the bottle of whiskey as she shoves it into Finn's chest before rushing to Jasper's side, brushing his dark locks out of his face.

Clarke steps over and checks his temperature. Her shoulders relax.

Monty stands as well and beams at his conscious friend. "Let's start with the soft stuff, does anyone have some water?"

"I'll go get some," Clara volunteers as she rises to her feet. Clarke gives her an appreciative smile and she nods in return before turning and leaving. Clara's boots pad against the metal ramp of the drop ship before crunching on the leaves on the ground.

The water is in a big bowl-like structure made from tarp in the middle of camp. Bellamy ordered some of the delinquents to build it, and of course they listened. Bellamy isn't exactly the type of person you'd want to disobey down here. Clara notes the progression of the wall he has ordered the others to build as well. It's made from branches, logs, and different supplies that were deemed not useful from the drop ship. Whether or not Bellamy has the best intentions, Clara has to give it to him: he's one heck of a leader. Down here, with basically no adult supervision, it's working out nicely.

As Clara is dumping a water bottle into the water supply to fill it, Bellamy spots her from the edge of camp. He tells the boy he's talking to to wait and walks over, his fingers anxiously tapping the sides of his thighs.

"Hey, Clara," Bellamy speaks, clearing his throat. When the curly-haired girl looks up at him, he asks, "How's Octavia?"

Clara pins the concern evident for his sister. She looks down at the water bottle and screws it shut, replying, "She's doing better now that Jasper is awake and well, thanks to the medicine Clarke, Wells, and Finn went to go get." She meets his eyes. "You should still go talk to her, though."

Bellamy nods. "Right."

The tarp in front of the drop ship entrance is pushed aside. Clarke emerges from inside, her eyes immediately finding Clara and Bellamy. She steps over with her own bottle of water in hand.

"Clara, you're not wearing your sling," Clarke notes with a raised brow like a mother scolding her child.

Clara looks down at her bare arm. "Oh, yeah. I just felt like it was getting in my way and limiting my arm's movement, is all."

Clarke gives her a flat look. "That's the point."

"Oh." Clara smiles sheepishly. "I also lost it in the woods when the fog hit."

"You were out in the fog?" Bellamy cuts in with confusion.

Clara glances over at him as she momentarily forgot about his presence. "I found a cave behind the waterfall, so I technically wasn't in the fog."

"That's beside the point," Clarke says before the conversation can drift even further. She sends Clara a stern look and says, "I'm going to make you another sling, and you need to wear it unless you want permanent damage done to your shoulder."

"Okay, sorry. I didn't think it was that serious." Clara brushes her hair out of her face. "Well, I'm going to go give Jasper some water now. And Bellamy—" The boy in question meets her gaze. "—talk to Octavia."

★

Once Rez falls asleep that night, Clara grows bored and decides to go look for someone to talk to until she gets tired. She walks into the drop ship to find Octavia, but she's asleep on the floor next to the table Jasper's on. Monty is curled up in the corner of the room, his jacket over himself like a blanket as he snores softly. With no one in the drop ship awake, Clara turns on her heel and goes back outside.

The darkness of the night envelops her. The chilled breeze sends chills though her body, so she pulls her light jacket closer to herself and shivers.

She decides to go out and see who is on watch since no one else inside the walls seems to be awake at this hour. The second her foot lands on the ground outside of camp, the feeling of being watched falls over her. It's like there are eyes in the trees and in the bushes watching her every move. She prays no one is actually there, ready to pierce her chest with a spear like they did with Jasper.

Clara's eyes fall upon a familiar boy. Wells sits on a log a few yards from the walls, his back to her as he keeps watch. She smiles and walks up to him, making sure to make her footfalls careful and quiet. When she's inches from him, she reaches out and grabs his shoulders, whispering, "Boo."

Surprisingly, Wells doesn't scare. He slowly turns, one hand on his knee and the other resting on the log. He raises a brow at Clara's childish antics.

"Darn it," she mutters, plopping down next to Wells. "I thought for sure I was going to scare you."

Wells chuckles lightly and says, "Yeah, well, I don't scare easily." He glances at her from the side. "Is there a reason you're out here?"

Clara picks at the bark of the log. "Not really. I'm just not tired yet since I slept for so long, so I figured I should go pester some of the people on watch."

"Ah." Wells looks down at his hands. A beat of silence. "You know, you're the only one down here that is actually nice to me. Everyone else either hates my guts or ignores me." Clara frowns and turns to look at Wells. He smiles lightly and says, "Thank you."

"You aren't your father," Clara replies. "It's foolish to treat you like you are. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Technically I did, or else I wouldn't be down here," Wells points out.

Clara narrows her eyes. "Yeah, I forgot about that. What did that tree ever do to you, huh?"

Wells laughs. The sound upturns Clara's lips, happy to have brought some lightness to his life on earth.

"Hey," she suddenly says, a tight feeling in her bladder, "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."

Clara clambers up from her log and walks far enough from camp for some privacy. This part is arguably the worst part of living on earth: no bathrooms. Clara always feels awkward going pee in the woods. She usually holds off until night since the majority of camp is asleep and it's dark, but it still feels weird.

After doing her business, Clara returns to her spot with Wells. As she approaches from behind again, she notices something peculiar. Wells isn't sitting upright anymore. Instead, his body lies in the ground, face-down.

Smirking, Clara says, "Did you fall asleep already? I was only gone for a minute."

She steps closer. As she does, a bone-chilling revelations hits her like a truck.

There's a bloody hole in his neck and two of his fingers are missing. Wells isn't sleeping, he's dead.

Before Clara can even react, a sharp pain like someone stabbed her in the abdomen flourishes in her side. Clara gasps and freezes, her hands going to the source. Her fingers glide over a knife stuck in her side, her fingers slick with her own blood as she crumples to the ground on her back. The sound of fast footfalls running away is the only thing she registers as her body goes numb.

Clara stares up at the stars above and the trees towering over her. Her hands go to her wound where the knife is lodged, pulling it out and tossing it aside as blackness dots her vision. The numbness turns into a fuzzy sensation and, soon, she blacks out.