xxii. ask and receive
inclement weather

SAWYER RESTED against the pillow shoved between her back and the metal frame of her bed. Her knees where bent, taking the weight of a book she held between her hands. She found it the night before, one of many placed on her bedside table. Gifts from Dante, or so she gathered from the note left with them.

     Clarke also found herself with a gift from the mountain's president. An art set that held paints, brushes, pencils, and chalks. Items that were more than rare on the Ark. Any other time, they would have made the Griffin girl swoon. But after the events of the last few days, she could not bring herself to touch them.

     Sawyer understood. She did not want to touch, or remotely look at, anything within the concrete walls of Mount Weather. But the longer she remained inside the former, military bunker, the quicker her resolve faltered. Not enough to ignore the blatant lies and strange behavior everyone displayed since the moment she opened her eyes in the Quarantine Ward, but enough to open up one of the aged books within her reach.

     Sawyer's eyes flickered over the black words typed across the white pages. The front cover called the book To Kill A Mockingbird. She never saw a copy on the Ark. Although, from what she witnessed in Mount Weather, she figured not a lot of things made it into space before the world went to hell.

     "It's not bad."

     Sawyer looked up from her book to where Jasper appeared at the foot of her and Clarke's bed. The Griffin girl laid on the mattress above her, most likely scribbling on her map of Mount Weather. She wanted to document every room and corridor not included on the page, especially the exit. Not that they would ever get the chance to use it without killing everyone inside the mountain.

     "Maybe they'll hang it on the walls here, one day," Jasper told the blonde.

     Sawyer knew that the boy wanted to sound nice about his comment, but she noticed the underlying meaning in his words. Jasper did not agree with her and Clarke that Mount Weather seemed too good to be true. He saw nothing wrong with the place, nor did any of the other delinquents, and that meant Sawyer and Clarke needed to protect them, even if they did not believe they were in any danger.

     "Miller!"

     Sawyer snapped to where the shout originated. The delinquents still in the dormitory rushed toward the room's entrance. She followed them to where Miller entered with Maya at his side. He must have gotten cleared from Medical.

     Jasper walked over to the boy and escorted him further into the room with a smile. "Look who finally got released," he quipped, setting his gaze on their co-leaders.

     Sawyer closed the book in her hands and scooted across the bed to sit at its edge. Her stare shifted until it fell onto the boy, who wore a clean button up shirt. Something she had never seen him wear in the six years that she knew him.

     When Miller grew closer, his eyes drifted from Jasper to Clarke and settled on Sawyer. His expression flat as their stares met. "Hey."

     Sawyer pressed her lips together and nodded. "Hey."

     "Miller," Clarke voiced, capturing the boy's attention, "I'm glad you're okay."

     Miller gave her a tight grin. "Yeah. Only took – what – three surgeries?" He glanced from Maya and then back to the co-leaders. "I hear you two're fitting right in."

     Sawyer quirked a brow and looked to where Maya lowered her head, avoiding hers and Clarke's eyes. It seemed as though the mountain girl liked to gossip.

     Maya cleared her throat and turned to Miller, handing him a bottle of medication. "Twice a day. Don't forget. You'll be okay in a few days."

     Miller took the bottle and nodded. "Thanks."

     Maya continued to avoid Sawyer and Clarke's gazes and moved to exit the room. Jasper trailed after her.

     Sawyer tore her stare away from the mountain girl, setting it back on Miller. He tossed his a bag that hung at his side onto the bed across from her, before he plopped onto the mattress. When his body stopped bouncing, Miller's stare lifted back to Sawyer. Her stare did not waver, while her features slacked.

     While she was glad the boy made it out of Medical alive, Sawyer still found herself angered by past events. Not as much as when it happened, but enough to keep her wary in his presence. He turned on her, once before. She would not allow it to happen again. Not if she could help it.

     Sawyer stared at him for another long moment and then released a short breath. "Glad you're not dead."

     A slight smile formed on Miller's lips. "Glad you haven't gotten yourself killed, or locked up," he quipped in return.

     Sawyer shrugged. "I still have time." She smirked back at him.

     Before either of them could say more, an alarm began to blare throughout the room. Sawyer perked up at the shrill tones that pulsed high and low. It did not sound like the one that alerted everyone when Clarke stole Maya's keycard, or even when Sawyer escaped Quarantine. Something different must have happened.

     Sawyer stood from her bed the same time Clarke hopped down from hers. Both of them moved through the room and after Maya, who rushed for the exit.

     "Hey, Maya, stop!" Sawyer called out as she jogged after the mountain girl.

     Maya came to a stop, sighing, and turned to face the delinquents' leaders.

     "What's going on?" Clarke questioned.

     "That signal means that surface patrol is back and someone needs medical attention," Maya stated and continued to step toward the exit. "I have to go to Quarantine." She then spun on her heel and ran from the room.

     At that, Sawyer whirled to where Clarke stopped at her side. The two of them exchanged a look, before they followed after the mountain girl. Jasper shouted behind them, but they ignored them and proceeded through the corridors in the direction of the Quarantine Ward. The dull, concrete walls shifted into a familiar, colorless white as they raced on. Sawyer and Clarke slowed their pace when they came upon a group of people outside a door, slipping thick suits onto their bodies.

     "They were attacked," Sawyer heard a man exclaim as he rattled off what happened to those who returned from outside. "One dead. He's in Room 2. The other took of his gloves and mask to treat him. He'll still in decon., but he'll need treatment as soon as he's processed through."

     "Who?" Sawyer questioned when she and Clarke blew through the people and toward the door they crowded around. "Who attacked them?"

     The man stared between the two girls with wide eyes. "What're they doing here?"

     Sawyer rolled her eyes and moved toward the large, metal door at the end of the corridor. "Fine. We'll just find out for ourselves."

     Clarke swiped a keycard from another man, who could not object as his arms were tangled in his suit. She and Sawyer approached the door, holding the card up to the reader. The line on top turned green, allowing them access.

     "Hey, stop! It's not safe!"

     "It is for us," Clarke exclaimed.

     Sawyer did not wait for Clarke or Jasper and rushed for the room beyond the corridor. She wrenched open the door, entering the white space with two metal tables in the center. One sat empty, while the other held a body placed in clear plastic. She moved toward it, scanning the dead man from head to toe, until her gaze fell to his blood covered torso. A circular wound was visible between the torn fabric of the man's shirt. A bullet wound.

     "Sawyer, Clarke, slow down!" Jasper almost shouted as he ran after the two girls. "Stop pushing so hard. These people are..."

     "Are lying to us," Sawyer snapped, whirling to face the Jordan boy. Her stare hardened and pointed to the man's body. She shifted her attention to Clarke. "You see what I see?"

     Clarke stepped up to her side and followed her line of sight. She took in the appearance of the wound, before her own features scrunched in a scowl. "That's a bullet wound," she stated and looked to the others. "Grounders don't use guns."

     Sawyer shook her head. "No, they do not."

     "Unless the Grounders got the guns from us," Jasper argued, not even glancing toward the body.

     Sawyer rolled her eyes with a scoff. "I highly doubt it, or they would've found and used them long before we did."

     Clarke nodded. "I think our people are alive out there."

     Right then, the door opened and the doctor from the medical ward entered dressed in a thick, blue suit. When her attention landed on the three teenagers, her eyes narrowed. "Get them out of here," she demanded.

     Sawyer, Clarke, and Jasper failed to move as more people burst into the room. Two men in their own suits carried someone in between them. Sawyer's eyes widened at the sight of him. The man held up by the others stumbled into the room with a red, blistered skin that blanketed him from his face down his chest to his hands. Radiation burns.

     _______

     Soon after the badly burned man entered the room, the three teenagers were escorted out and back to their dormitory. Sawyer could not force the image of the dead man and the bullet wound in his chest. If none of their people from the dropship or the Ark survived, then the mountain man should not have gotten shot. From what she witnessed, the Grounders did not use guns.

     Sawyer paced next to hers and Clarke's beds. Her tennis shoes knocked against the concrete floor from her harsh strides, while the sleeves of her green sweater were pulled passed her fingertips, tickling her cheek as she raised a hand to rub at her eyes. After they reached the dormitory, the rest of the delinquents left for the Mess Hall to enjoy their breakfast. Sawyer and Clarke stayed behind, pondering what to do with the newly discovered information.

     "I still think we should just confront Dante," Clarke voiced from where she sat on the Wesley girl's bed. "Tell him that we know about the bullet wound."

     Sawyer's features scrunched and looked to the blonde as she continued to pace. "And then what? He's shot us down every time we ask to leave," she replied.

     "And if he says anything this time, then we know he's lying," Clarke retorted.

     Sawyer paused in her movements, dropping her arm, and faced her friend and co-leader. "We either have probable cause to leave, or we catch him in a lie," she thought aloud, before a smile spread across her lips. "I think I'm in love with you."

     Clarke released a short, breathy laugh and stood from the bed. "Come on." She started for the exit with Sawyer on her heels.

     _______

     Dozens of mountain people and fellow delinquents were packed inside the Mess Hall when Sawyer and Clarke arrived. Various kinds of foods were displayed on outlying tables, allowing everyone to pick a chose what they wanted to eat. Not something any of the delinquents were used to, which drew them in and made them glorify Mount Weather even more.

     Sawyer scanned the sea of brightly dressed people until her gaze fell on the white hair of the mountain's president. He stood next to one of the long, food filled tables, packing his selected items onto a plate in his hand. Sawyer did not hesitate to stride toward the man and voice, "we need to talk to you."

     At her presence, Dante looked away from the food and to the girls. "Sure. Let's talk over breakfast."

     Clarke failed to wait that long and blurted, "who shot that soldier?"

     Sawyer pressed her lips together to hold back the grin that wanted to form. Her attention shifted to the other side of the table where two women stared between the girls and the president with wide eyes, before they exchanged whispers with one another.

     Dante noticed the same. He set his plate down and urged the girls to step aside with him. Once they were away from prying ears, he began to speak, "the patrol that was looking for your people was attacked by what you call Grounders."

     Sawyer shook her head. "No. We've fought against Grounders, and they've never used guns. Not once."

     Dante's expression did not falter from the blank one he sported since the delinquents woke up inside the mountain. "I never mentioned guns. Sergeant Shaw was shot by an arrow."

     "We saw the wound," Sawyer countered, her stare narrowing with each of the man's words. "It was made by a bullet."

     Dante pressed his lips together and gave a faint nod. "Sometimes, we feel so strongly about our people we see things that aren't there."

     Sawyer scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Dante wanted them to think they were crazy, that they were so consumed with grief that they were seeing things. He said as much when she and Clarke almost opened the doors to Mount Weather.

     "We'd like to see the body," Clarke told the man, before Sawyer could reply.

     Dante maintained his flat stare and nodded. "Of course. Come with me."

     _______

     Sawyer and Clarke stood within the white room from earlier with Dante across from them. The metal tables were empty, vacant of the body that had been killed by a shot to the chest. Per the president's request, they waited for someone to return with the dead man.

     As soon as the door opened, Sawyer tore her eyes away from where they drifted to the little pin above Dante's jacket pocket. She remembered it from her textbook on the Ark, and the side of their dropship when they first landed on Earth. The American flag, or something like that. Sawyer looked to where the female doctor, the one she still did not know the name of, pushed a mobile table into the room with the white sheet draped over it.

     "Sorry to keep you waiting," the doctor said as she brought the table to a stop in the middle of the room. "We had to finish decontamination."

     Dante nodded to the woman. "Thank you, Dr. Tsing."

     Sawyer quirked a brow. She finally knew the doctor's name.

     "The man with the burns," Clarke questioned, before either of the adults could say another word, "how is he?"

     Dr. Tsing glanced toward her president and back to the girls with a light smile. "He's improving."

     Sawyer's brows furrowed. Improving? From what she saw of him, the man looked a few breaths away from death. She did not know how someone could survive burns of that magnitude.

     "I – we'd like to talk to him," Clarke stated.

     Dr. Tsing turned to the white haired man. "Sir, only patients are allowed in Medical."

     Dante did not acknowledge the woman, keeping his attention on the girls. "We can arrange that."

     Dr. Tsing nodded. She moved closer to the table and grabbed the white sheet that covered it. She pulled back, stopping when it reached the dead man's waist.

     Sawyer dropped her gaze to the body. The pale, ghostly skin of the man did not faze her as she took in his unmoving features and the stillness of his chest. Not even the discolored flesh around the wound in his chest caused her heartbeat to rise. But the strange, grey device imbedded in his left pectoral forced her to pause. She had never seen something so odd. And from the creased stare on Clarke's face, the doctor's daughter failed to have seen anything like it, either.

     "What the hell is that?" Sawyer questioned, pointing to the thing on the man.

     Dr. Tsing met her curious eyes and said, "it's a dialysis shunt. We all have them in case of exposure." She did not elaborate and asked, "would you like to see the exit wound?"

     Neither Sawyer or Clarke nodded, before Dr. Tsing leaned forward and turned the man on his side. Dante stepped up to her side to help. Both girls leaned down to find a round hole in the skin of his back. It held the same discoloration as the one in his chest.

     "Sergeant Langston was forced to push the arrow out in the field," Dr. Tsing explained, before she lowered the man to the table. She nodded to Dante. "Thank you, sir."

     Despite hearing that an arrow caused the wound, Sawyer could not force herself to believe it. The circular wounds looked like they were from a bullet. Arrow wounds were larger and more jagged.

     Sawyer set her gaze on the doctor. "You happen to have that arrow?"

     Dr. Tsing nodded. "We've got it right here," she answered, walking over to a metal cabinet shoved against the wall behind her. She opened up the doors and returned to the girls with a clear bag in her hand. A dark, blood covered arrowhead laid inside and across her palm.

     Sawyer's jaw clenched at the sight.

     _______

     With their interest satisfied, at least for the president, Sawyer and Clarke were sent in the direction of the dormitory. The Wesley girl seethed the entire way there. Irritation flooded her at the lack of straightforward evidence, and more importantly, how Dante and Dr. Tsing tried so hard to cover up the real reason behind the man's death.

     Sawyer could tell Clarke's scrutiny against the mountain people started to wain at the sight of the arrowhead. Hers, on the other hand, grew tenfold. None of it made sense. Not the wound, not their abduction from the dropship, and especially not the fact that none of her people were seen since their war with the Grounders.

     The circumstances began to resemble her life on the Ark, and that alone made her blood boil.

     As they entered the dormitory, the delinquents inside paused amidst their activities and turned to look at them. The action would not have bothered Sawyer back at their camp, she got her fair share of side glances from being their leader, but the nature of their stares brought forth a sense of aggravation. They were filled with caution. Like they were concerned about them.

     Sawyer did not get the chance to address them as Jasper rushed over to them.

     "What did President Wallace say?" he questioned, walking at their sides to where their beds sat near the far edge of the room.

     Sawyer released a huff and moved to lean against the frame of the beds. "He showed us the dead man's body."

     Jasper looked between them with his brows raised. "And?"

     Clarke sighed, stopping next to the bedside table to lean against it. "It looked like an arrow wound."

     "Well, maybe because it is an arrow wound," Jasper retorted.

     "Or, that's what they want us to think," Clarke countered.

     Jasper's expression faltered.

     Sawyer rolled her eyes. "Don't act like that's so absurd, Jasper. These people haven't exactly been forthcoming about everything."

     Jasper turned to her and lowered his voice as he said, "Sawyer, you two sound like crazy people," His gaze shifted from her to Clarke and settled on her. "Why do you want to screw this up for us."

     Sawyer pushed off the frame. Her eyes narrowed toward the boy, and she hissed, "I don't want to screw up anything for us, Jasper, but I do want to make sure this place is safe and won't come back to bite us in the ass."

     "This place is – safe," Jasper stressed toward her. "This is food, a real bed, clothes, and my personal favorite – not getting speared by Grounders. How long do you think they'll let us stay here if you keep this up?"

     Sawyer went to reply, but her blonde counterpart beat her to it.

     Clarke pushed off the bedside table and moved closer to the boy. "Did someone threaten you?" she questioned, worry and anger dripping from her tone.

     Jasper scoffed. "No. No, it's common sense." He shook his head and let out a long breath, glancing between his co-leaders. "Look, we're guests here, not prisoners. What would you do with a guest who kept calling you a liar and generally acted like an ungrateful ass?"

     "Kick the ungrateful ass out," Miller quipped from where he sat on his bed with one of Sawyer's books in his hand.

     Sawyer pressed her lips together and stayed silent. She did not want to voice that Jasper was right. After all, they did just that when came to John Murphy. While he did more than cause trouble, she, Clarke, and Bellamy agreed that his defiance posed a threat to their new way of life. At least, they came to that conclusion after Sawyer banished him the first time.

     Now that she thought about it, she and Clarke disrupted quite a bit of the day-to-day operations inside Mount Weather. Although, Sawyer would not apologize for it. She would do everything in her power to make sure her people were safe, even if that meant making others' lives difficult to achieve her goal.

     Jasper maintained his stern but displeased expression. "Right now, the biggest threat to us is the two of you," he exclaimed, before he turned on his heel and strode off through the dormitory, leaving Sawyer and Clarke behind to simmer in their guilt and frustration.

     _______

     Later that night, Sawyer claimed a spot in the corner of a common room on Level 5. Her feet were drawn up to rest under her jean clad thighs as she rested in one of the many cushioned chairs scattered around the large space. After Jasper's declaration in the dormitory, she did her best to stay out of the delinquents' way. If more of them thought the same as Jasper, then she did not want them to doubt her further.

     Clarke sat next to her in another chair. Her map of Mount Weather held in her grasp. Little conversation transpired between them since they left the dormitory. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge Jasper said, or that their actions from the last few days were more than irrational. At least, to him and the delinquents. And while Sawyer still believed what she did was for the good of her people, she did not want to jeopardize their place in the bunker if it turned out to be the real deal.

     Sawyer leaned into her seat, scanning the room to check on the delinquents who were inside. She spotted Miller and Harper at a table, taking part in an arm wrestling match. Her gaze shifted to where Jasper sat next to a large piano with Maya at his side, chatting amongst themselves with bright smiles. They were so carefree and happy. It made Sawyer hope that she was wrong about Dante and rest of Mount Weather.

     The sound of crumped paper forced Sawyer to turn her attention to the Griffin girl to her left. Clarke balled the map of Mount Weather in her hands and then tossed it to the ground beside her chair. Sawyer noticed the dejected expression on her face as she leaned onto her hand, propping her arm onto the armrest.

     "You okay?" Sawyer questioned, causing her co-leader to lift her head and look her way.

     Clarke sighed. "Other than everyone thinking we're crazy?" she retorted.

     Sawyer pursed her lips. "Well, when you put it like that..." she trailed off.

     Clarke shook her head. "Maybe we are crazy. No one's acted against us. They only thing they haven't done is let us leave. Maybe they are just trying to protect us."

     Sawyer leaned up from her chair and twisted to face the Griffin girl head on. Her eyes narrowed. "You don't believe that. I know you don't." Clarke met her brown eyed gaze with her green. "There's something wrong with this place. Why else would they've wanted over a month to show themselves."

     Clarke pondered her words for a long moment, but she paused when something else caught her attention.

     Sawyer followed her stare and froze at what, or rather who, she saw. The man they watched get carried into Medical with blistered radiation burns over most of his body, Sergeant Langston, strode through the common room as if he were not on his deathbed that morning. Almost all of his burns were gone, save for a few patches on his cheek and forearms, leaving behind pale, untouched skin.

     Sawyer trailed the man as he headed for the exit. Once he disappeared from the room, she felt a hand clamp down on her arm. Sawyer looked to the side and found Clarke on her feet. She yanked the brunette up with her, and they proceeded out of the common room, following after Langston.

     They weaved through the corridors and ended up at one of the elevators. Sawyer and Clarke watched him from around the corner as he stepped inside. When the doors closed behind him, the girls stepped further into the corridor and listened to the elevator whirl up to a higher floor.

     "We need to get into Medical," Clarke exclaimed, continuing to pull the Wesley girl along with her.

     Sawyer allowed her to lead her through the halls until they reached the dormitory. Once they were inside, she pulled away from Clarke and brought them to a stop. "Why Medical?" she asked, not sure what the she had in mind.

     Clarke moved over to their beds. She looked around, making sure the room was empty, before she said, "radiation burns don't just vanish like that. He was exposed like, twelve hours ago. So, how're almost all of them gone?"

     Sawyer's brows creased and shrugged. "I don't know. Medicine, or that dialysis shunt thing the doctor woman said they have," she voiced, pointing to her shoulder where she remembered the dead man had the device imbedded in his skin.

     Clarke shook her head. "It still wouldn't work that fast."

     Sawyer nodded. "Okay, but you're forgetting one thing. Only patients are allowed in Medical."

     "Yeah, that's the thing," Clarke began as she rolled up the sleeve of her pink sweater. A white bandage stood out against her tanned skin. "We need to become patients." She grabbed the edge of the bandage and tore it off. Black stitches ran up her forearm, woven into her redden flesh.

     Sawyer cringed at the sight until she noticed where Clarke's eyes fell. She dropped down to her left thigh were a row of her own stitches sat beneath a bandage. Where Murphy grazed her with a bullet. She groaned, lifting her head to meet the girl's pointed look. "Awe, come on."

     "It's the quickest way," Clarke stated, before she moved over to their bed frame and raised her injured arm to a sharp, metal corner. As soon as the end of her stitched wound touched the corner, she dragged it along and ripped the stitches from her skin. Blood bubbled up from the reopened wound, rolling down her arm to drip onto the mattress below it.

     Sawyer made a sound of disgust, but she did not look away.

     Clarke winced, pressing her lips together as she pulled her arm back from the metal corner. She held the injured arm with her other hand and turned to the brunette. "Alright, your turn."

     Sawyer's lips curled, eyeing the bleeding gash. She rolled her eyes and dropped her hands to the zipper of her pants. "I take it back. I'm not in love with you. I actually hate you."

     Clarke gritted her teeth as more blood pour from her wound. "You're gonna hate me even more, in a minute. Now, hurry up," she said, glancing to the dormitory's entrance.

     Sawyer huffed, pulling down her pants to show the bandage placed on her stitched up thigh. Ready to follow her friend's lead and reopen her bullet graze.

<February 1, 2020>

Anyone else shipping Sawyer and Clarke? No? Just me? Okay.

Don't forget to vote and comment.

-Jordan

P.S. Unedited chapter.