xx. mount weather
the 48

SILENCE GREETED Sawyer Wesley as her consciousness returned to her body. She did not know what to expect when she woke. Not that she thought of much after she crumpled to the ground.

Sawyer pried her eyes open, despite the sleep that accumulated in the corners. As soon as they fluttered apart, she squeezed them shut again. A bright light consumed the space around her. Much brighter than sun. Sawyer understand how that was possible. At least, until she forced her eyes to remain open.

Sawyer squinted as harsh light filled what looked to be a room. It had a ceiling, four walls, every inch of them a colorless white. The sight made her heart race. She pushed down on her hands to shift into a sitting position, finding that she laid on a soft surface. A bed. One covered in solid white sheets. Her clothes were the same hue, or lack thereof. Instead of her tattered jacket and jumpsuit, Sawyer wore a white t-shirt and a pair of white shorts that fell to her mid-thigh. The edges of a bandage peeked out from underneath the hem on her left.

Sawyer reached out to inspect it, but she stopped when something pulled at her right arm. Her gaze snapped down find a tube attached to her skin, more so impaled into her skin. She followed the thin tube to where connected to a bag of a clear liquid. An IV. She never had one before, but she knew they were used in Medical on the Ark to administer medicine.

Her heart thudded harder in her chest. Sawyer gabbed at the tube with her left hand and yanked the end out of her arm. The tape ripped at her skin, while a sharp pain radiated up her arm. Blood bubbled up from the tore flesh, but she did not care. She did not want some unknown substance pumped into her body.

Sawyer sat up from the bed, moving so her legs hung over the edge. She placed her feet on the ground, before she pulled them up as the cold surface stung her bare soles. She scanned the rest of the room, recognizing a couch, a toilet, and sink. All of which lined the walls. The only color that broke up the white was a single picture that hung above the couch and the blood that ran down her arm.

Where the hell was she? After a month of being on Earth, she had never seen anything so pristine and certainly not an actual room. Not since the Ark.

Sawyer placed her feet back on the floor and stood, ignoring the chill that surged up her legs. Across from the bed, she found a door with a circular window built into its surface. Something round and black hung above it. Sawyer thought it looked like a camera of some sort.

Whoever they were, they were watching her.

Sawyer walked up to the door and peered through the window. Her stare fell on a door identical to the one she stood in front of. But instead of being closed, it stood wide open. A room similar to hers sat beyond its threshold. She shifted to look through the window at different angles, but she could only see a brick hallway that extended to the left and right.

Sawyer stepped back from the window as her breathing increased. No. She had to get out of there. She grabbed the door's handle and twisted, pulling hard to pry the thing open, but it did not budge. After a few more tugs, Sawyer huffed and turned away from the door. There had to be another way out. She groaned, running her hands through her hair. It fell around her shoulders in dark waves, a style she had not worn in a long time. She needed to get out. She needed to find her friends and make sure they were alright. Where they in the same place? Where they still at the dropship?

Her eyes raked over the room, searching for something that could get her out. Sawyer did not find anything useful. She turned back to the door and glanced to the window, before her gaze lifted to the camera. If someone where watching her, then maybe they could hear her.

"Hey," Sawyer called out, her voice echoing around the room. "Hey!" She raised her arms and waved toward the camera. "I know you're watching. Let me out! Do you hear me? Let me out!"

No one answered, and her door stayed closed.

Sawyer would have to find another way. Her eyes flickered over the room, before they fell on the door's window. From its proximity to the door handle and the lock that would most likely rest above it, she knew that she could reach it. Now, all she had to do was find something to break the glass.

Sawyer spun on her heel and looked the place up and down. Aside from the picture on the wall, she could not lift anything high enough to break the window. And if she used the picture frame, she figured the picture framed would splinter on impact. She almost gave up on her search until her eyes landed on the metal pole that held the IV. Sawyer ran over to it and grabbed ahold of the narrow metal, yanking it up to see if she could lift it. To her surprise, the top half slid away from the bottom and came off in her hands.

Once she ripped the IV bags from there hooks, Sawyer rushed back to the door and swung the pole up to smash the camera. That should get their attention. The hit dislodged the camera from the ceiling, causing it to fall and smash onto the floor. Sawyer shifted her attention to the window. She brought the IV pole up and slammed it into the glass. It shattered in large, jagged pieces. She dragged the pole around the window frame, forcing the leftover glass to fall away.

With the window gone, Sawyer tossed the pole aside and stepped toward the door. She reached through the frame and felt for the door's lock. The moment her fingers came into contact with the metal lock, she flipped it around and retracted her arm to throw open the door. Sawyer paused at the threshold, peering down the hallway in case someone stood outside. To her luck, she found no one.

Sawyer stepped out of the room, but no before she swiped a shard of glass from the floor. She did not know who took her, or if they were dangerous. They did lock her up. And from personal experience, those who imprisoned people were not to be trusted.

After a moment to decide her next move, Sawyer started down the left side of the hallway. Her grip tightened around the glass in her hand as her eyes drifted across the hallway. Every little noise caused her flinch. Not that there were many. There were whirls of what sounded like air circulation through a ventilation system, or the low hum from some kind of machinery. It reminded her too much of the Ark, which only made her anxiety spike.

Sawyer reached a point in the hallway where more hallways jutted off in different directions. She began to decide which way to go until her stare fell on a sign hung on a wall to her right.

Mount Weather Containment Ward.

Mount Weather? How did she get to Mount Weather?

Before she could question it further, an alarm began to blare throughout the hallway as lights along the ceiling flashed red. Sawyer jumped from the sound. They must have realized she broke out. She started forward, rounding a corner to the right. Her feet slapped against the concrete floor as she sprinted through the corridors.

Sawyer skidded to a stop when a set of metal doors appeared caught her attention. Not just any set of doors. An elevator. Just what she needed. Sawyer lunged forward and pressed on the top most button, but nothing happened. The doors remained closed.

"Damn it," Sawyer hissed, turning on her heel to try another hallway.

When a ding sounded from the elevator, Sawyer looked back to the doors and watched as they slid apart. Her relief quickly faded to horror as she came face-to-face with a handful of men. All of them were dressed in white shirts and tan vests with rifles held in their hands. Sawyer's heart leapt into her throat. She did not try to run, knowing that they could shot her dead before she could turn around.

"Drop the glass, Sawyer," the closest man, middle aged with brown hair under a cap, commanded with his gun aimed in her direction. He stepped off the elevator, bringing the Wesley girl to stumbled away from him.

The use of her name caused Sawyer to falter. "What? How – how do you know my name?"

"All of your questions will be answered, if you put down the glass," the man stated, keeping his grip steady on his weapon. As did the other four men, who filed out after him.

Sawyer hesitated. She could not trust them. How could she? They took her from her home and locked her up. Not to mention, she had no idea where her friends were. But if she acted against them, they would shoot her on the spot.

Sawyer did not take her eyes off the men and released her hold on the glass shard, letting it clatter to the floor at her feet.

_______

Once the glass left her hand, the men surged toward Sawyer and secured a set of metal cuffs onto her wrists. She would have fought against them, should have, but she knew that she could not win. Even if she managed to get out of their grasp, she did not know where to go or how to escape a fortified military bunker.

From the sign she read on the wall, Sawyer realized that she had been taken to Mount Weather. The same Mount Weather she and the rest of the hundred failed to reach after they landed on Earth. It shocked her to know that people were inside the forgotten structure the entire time they were on the radiation soaked planet. How did they miss that? And better yet, how did people who lived in the mountain miss them?

Sawyer let the armed men escort her through the halls to a larger room on the same floor. The moment they stepped inside, she noticed a row of beds shoved against a wall with machines placed beside them. An infirmary, from the looks of it. Sawyer would have scanned the rest of the space for anything that might pose a threat, but her stare fell on a familiar blonde sat on one of the beds.

"Clarke?" Sawyer questioned, more so shouted, when she recognized her friend and co-leader.

Clarke Griffin's head snapped to where the Wesley girl entered the room with armed men on either side of her. "Sawyer? Oh, my God," she exclaimed. She tried to stand from the bed and rush toward the brunette, but a set of straps held her arms in place on the mattress beneath her.

Sawyer's eyes widened at the sight. "What's going on?" She snapped to one of the men who pulled her toward the blonde. "Why is she tied up?"

The men did not answer as they shoved Sawyer down onto the bed next to Clarke's. She started to struggle against them, but she paused when the end of a rifle shifted into her eye-line. The man who knew her name unlocked the metal cuffs from her wrists, before he tied a pair of straps connected to the bed in their place. Sawyer glared toward him when the straps tightened around her wrists. The hard material dug into her skin, but she did not dare wince. Her eyes narrowed further as the men left the room.

As soon as the door sealed closed behind them, Sawyer looked to Clarke on her left. "What the hell is going on, Clarke? How did we get to Mount Weather?" she asked until her gaze fell to the red stains that stood out on the blonde's white clothes. "Are you hurt?"

Clarke sighed. "Cut my arm breaking out of the room I woke up in. And to answer your question, I have no idea." She looked the Wesley girl up and down, before she asked, "have you seen anyone else?"

Sawyer shook her head. "No. I broke out and ran into those guards. Have you?"

"Monty, a while ago."

Sawyer's eyes widened. "Monty?" Her confusion lasted for a brief moment, before it morphed into anger. "They're the ones who took him from the woods."

Clarke nodded. "And now, they've taken all of us."

Neither girl got the chance to say more as the door to the room opened again. A woman with a dark skin-tone and even darker hair entered. She wore a long, white coat and a tight smile. A man walked in beside her dressed in an impeccable suit. His hair thin and white, coinciding with his wrinkled features. The men from before followed after them, keeping a respectful distance.

Sawyer kept her stare aimed to the woman and older man as they moved closer to her and Clarke. Their presence alone made her heartrate rise.

Another person moved with them. A young girl with dark hair and a bandage on her neck. Her eyes were downcast and her hands clasped in front of her yellow clothing as she stopped next to the older man. Sawyer wondered why she was there.

"Hello, Clarke. How is your arm?" the dark haired woman questioned when she looked to the blonde. She then shifted her stare to the Wesley girl. "I see you've injured yourself, too, Sawyer." Her eyes glanced down at the bleeding wound the brunette inflicted on herself when she removed her IV. 

Sawyer did not like how everyone in Mount Weather seemed to know her name. It made her uneasy.

The woman glanced between the two girls as they remained silent. "Not a bunch of talkers, are they?" she quipped, glancing toward the older man.

The man pressed his lips together, observing the girls. "Skill picked up from the savages, no doubt. That's fine. Maya has something to say, first, anyway," he stated and gestured to the young girl stood at his side.

The girl, Maya, lifted her stare from the ground to where Clarke remained. "You were the next one to be cleared through quarantine. Another ten minutes and you would've..." the other man cleared his throat, which prompted her to change the subject, "I'm not pressing charges."

Sawyer's brows creased. What did that mean?

The older man nodded, smiling toward the girl. "Thank you, Maya. You can get your treatment, now."

The woman in the white coat stepped forward, ushering Maya to the other side of the room. "Okay. Let's go. Bed three."

Sawyer followed the girl as she did as the woman said. Maya moved to the third bed in line and lied down on the mattress. She would have watched longer, but her attention snapped back to the older man when he spoke.

"Restraints aren't necessary." The man looked to the guards.

One of the armed men nodded. "Yes, Mister President."

Sawyer quirked a brow. So, the man was their president.

Two of the guards stepped forward and knelt next to the two girls, untied the straps around their wrists. Sawyer tore her arms up from the mattress, rubbing at her irritated skin. The men then stood and rejoined the others stood in formation throughout the room.

"Dante Wallace," the older man said, introducing himself. He stepped up to Clarke and extended his hand. She took it, but paused when something on his skin caught her eye. "Oil paint. That's right. You're an artist, too."

Clarke's hardened stare met his seemingly kind one. She released his hand. "Who told you that?"

"Your people did," Dante stated, before he moved to extend his hand to Sawyer. She shook it and then lowered her arm as she stood from the bed. "And you have a knack for organization and order. They also said you two were their leaders." His gaze drifted from each girl when they came to stand side-by-side. "Looks like we have a lot in common, kiddos."

Sawyer maintained a flat expression, meeting the man's pointed gaze. He might have tried to make it seem reassuring, but she only felt unnerved.

"Where's my watch?" Clarke questioned him.

Sawyer's eyes dropped to the blonde's wrist, finding it bare of her thick, brown watch. Clarke never took that thing off. It was her father's.

"I'm sorry, but we can't let contaminated items inside Mount Weather," Dante told her. "Wouldn't risk it. Our protocol is very strict, Clarke. We prioritize safety our sentimentality."

"Speaking of sentimentality, where are the rest of our people? How many of us did you kidnap and bring here?" Sawyer asked the man.

"Forty-eight," Dante said and set his attention on the Wesley girl. "But, Sawyer, you've got it wrong. You're not prisoners. We saved you."

Sawyer within her urge to scoff. If they wanted to save the delinquents, they would not have ambushed them with smoke bombs and took their unconscious bodies to their military bunker.

"Well, in that case, you won't mind if we leave," Clarke added. "If there are forty-eight of us here, we still have people out there."

Sawyer exchanged a quick look with her friend. "Yeah. Almost half of us, actually."

Dante looked between the girls. "The patrol brought in everyone they could find."

Confusion flooded Sawyer. "Everyone? But, the Ark came down last night. There had to be survivors."

Dante nodded. "We saw it. There were multiple crash-sites over a hundred square miles. If there were survivors, we will bring them in, too. You have my word."

Sawyer did not know if she could believe him, but she wanted something else, in that moment. "We want to see our people," she demanded.

Dante grinned. "Of course you do. I would, too." He turned to his guards, who were clustered close to the door.

Sawyer followed his line of sight to where a few of the men rolled two box toward them. Her brows furrowed, not recognizing what they were. At least, until the men stopped and clicked their latches to open them in front of the girls. Inside, Sawyer found clothes in bright colors and shoes of different kinds. They were similar to those they were on the Ark, but much more pristine and lacked the appearance of overuse.

The woman in the white coat walked back over to them with a package in her hand. She stopped next to the Wesley girl and pointed to wound on her arm. "I'll be happy to bandage that for you."

Sawyer gave her blank stare. "I can do it," she said and held out her hand.

The woman looked from her to Dante. He nodded. The woman shifted her gaze back to Sawyer and handed her the package. Sawyer took it and lowered her arm. She would apply it later.

"Change, and meet me in the hall," Dante told the girls, before he faced his guards. "Come on. Let's go. Let's give Clarke and Sawyer some privacy."

Sawyer failed to move a muscle until everyone inside the room, excluding Maya laid on one of the beds, left through the exit. Once the door closed between them, she returned her stare to the clothes. She had not seen anything so clean in a long time. Sawyer stepped toward the box and ran her finger across the multicolored fabrics. They were soft to the touch. Not even her clothes on the Ark felt like that.

"How do they have so many clothes to spare?" Sawyer questioned, looking to the girl on her left.

"They must not have a lot of people," Clarke stated, before she grabbed something from inside her box. She pulled it back into her grasp and turned to her friend, revealing a high-heeled shoe. When their eyes met, Clarke ripped the heel off and kept it concealed at her side.

Sawyer understood. She returned her stare to her own box and found a pair of shoes that were also high-heels. How do people get around in these things? she thought and then grabbed one of the shoes to repeat Clarke's actions. They were not about to leave themselves defenseless in an unknown place, no matter how polite and benevolent the people might seem.

_______

When Sawyer and Clarke changed into different clothes and exited the infirmary to meet with Dante, a group of guards were outside waiting for them. They lead the girls through a series of hallways, before they entered an expansive room where numerous pipes and tubes hung from the ceiling and lined the walls. A deafening hum filled Sawyer's ears as they moved forward. She scanned the dull, concrete room until her gaze fell on Dante. He stood next to one of the pipes that jutted out of the floor, the circumference larger than he stood tall.

Dante turned to the girls when they approached. "Sorry about the noise," he exclaimed loud enough to be heard over the hum. "Hydroelectric power from Philpott Dam." They started to walk through the room. "Fresh water from our own underground reservoir. Fresh food from our hydroponic farm."

Sawyer did not know what the man talked about, but she decided to stay quiet. What interested her was the fact that they managed to live inside Mount Weather without them knowing.

"I don't understand. You're on the ground," Clarke voiced, curiosity clear in her tone. "You know it's survivable. Why would you stay here?"

"It's not survivable for us," Dante stated.

That caught Sawyer's attention. "How? The Grounders have certainly managed fine."

"Natural selection at work. The Grounders who couldn't survive the radiation didn't. Those who could, passed on their DNA. For better or for worse, we never went through that process."

Sawyer blinked at his statement. Dante's explanation made sense. At least, for the Grounders. But the when it came to the delinquents, the logic fell short. They landed on Earth only a month earlier and perfectly fine.

Clarke must have wondered the same as she questioned, "well, neither did we. We've been on the ground now for..." she trailed off when a sudden thought dawned on her, "solar radiation."

Sawyer turned to her friend with a questionable look. Clarke did not answer her silent inquiry and kept her stare on the mountain's president.

Dante smiled toward the Griffin girl. "Very good. Your DNA ran through the same gauntlet as the Grounders. Only because radiation levels in space are even higher. Your ability to metabolize that radiation is even stronger. Truth be told, our scientists were blown away by the efficiency of your systems. If not for that, your friends would still be upstairs in quarantine."

They came to a stop in front of a set of metal doors. Another elevator. Sawyer wondered how many the place had.

Dante gestured it as the doors opened, revealing the small space beyond them. Several of the guards filed inside and waited. Dante looked to the girls and nodded to the elevator. "Please."

Sawyer hesitated at the threshold. She did not want to be trapped in an enclosed space with so many unknown people, and their guns. Sawyer turned to Clarke. The Griffin girl looked about as apprehensive as herself. She reached out and took hold of Sawyer's hand, pulling the brunette with her into the elevator. They stood side-by-side and faced Dante, who remained just outside of the elevator.

"First, give me the heels," Dante stated and held his hand out toward the girls.

Sawyer exchanged a slightly wide-eyed look with Clarke. How did he know they took the heels? Instead of fighting him on the matter, she and Clarke turned back toward the man and removed the heels from their shirt sleeves.

Dante took the heels in his hand and lowered his arm. "You're not fighting for your life anymore. You've made it. Welcome to Mount Weather."

Without another word, the elevator doors shut between them.

<January 24, 2020>

SEASON 2 HAS ARRIVED BITCHES!!!

So, I'm rewatching The 100 to write these chapters, and I've forgotten how fucking terrifying Season 2 is. Like, I'm gonna have nightmares!

Don't forget to vote and comment.

-Jordan

P.S. Unedited chapter.