Clarke is at the gates, and the guards start screaming to get them open.
There she is, their brave princess, and it’s like she never left. In she strides, and immediately she starts taking charge, easy as breathing.
She got taken by Grounders, and she survived. She got taken by Grounders, and she walks back like it was nothing.
And the 100, who have been living in a state of constant terror for the past few days, suddenly find it just a little easier to breathe.
She made it.
She’ll know what to do.
Clarke always knows what to do.
And she says, we have to leave, and so they get ready to leave. Instantly, no questions asked. They leave behind what they can’t carry, and the last remnant of the only home they had ever known not so long ago. They leave behind the home they had built from nothing with their own hands. They leave behind the graves of their dead—Atom. Roma. John. Derek. Conner. Charlotte. Wells—
And as they move out, the kids keep circling around her, trying not to stare but unable to help themselves. Just close enough to be able to see her clearly, not quite daring to touch. But—she’s here. She’s real. She’s alive. She walked through hell, and she came back.
She came back to us, and she’s going to save us all.
Suddenly there’s a touch at her hand from behind and Clarke starts, but it’s just Skylar, one of the youngest left of the 100. And she looks up at Clarke, eyes wide and open and so, so scared, but filled with so much trust. And in that moment Clarke feels something loosen in her chest, even as it tightens and the darkest part of her (the part she never wanted to know existed).
But she just smiles, squeezes Skylar’s hand back, and then presses a kiss to her forehead. Clarke walks to her tent to get her things, and Skylar doesn’t let go.
(She can be brave, too.)
And as Clarke moves through them, leading them out to the sea, to safety, towards the hope to live and fight another day, hands brush against her on all sides. Whispers follow her. Eyes stare at her unabashedly, as though she’s not quite…something anymore. As though she’s more.
Clarke holds her head high, and makes sure no one is left behind. Then she does not look back.
(She will be brave. She must.)