"How are the radios going?" Clarke asks.
"Not great," Raven replies, squinting at what she's fiddling with. It looks a bit like a radio, to Clarke's untrained eyes. Beside her there is a massive pile of electronic parts, most of them beaten up, ripped apart, rusted or otherwise useless – it looks like Anya's unit has eagerly obeyed the orders to bring back anything useful, but don't have to clear an idea what 'useful' means in this context. As she watches, Raven reaches out without looking and snags a wire from a small pile of them she's made. "How's everything in the sky going?"
"Also not great," Clarke says ruefully. "Shumway's turned on Diana Sydney and some of the others to save his own skin, so she's still being held, but she hasn't admitted anything herself. They think there must be people helping her that Shumway doesn't know about. Obviously, the arrests of Shumway and some of their conspirators have thrown the Guard into chaos. Meanwhile, the scientists are arguing about the exact right way to come down to earth, and about how people should be split between the stations so if only one makes it down our 'species' will still survive – ignoring the fact that we're hardly the last of our species. Oxygen's getting lower and four people so far have gone completely blind, with twenty-seven more experiencing other vision problems, and they're considering coming down early but have no chance of sorting things out in time. The parents of kids in Polis and Monty's parents are campaigning to come down as close to us as possible because they think we're exaggerating about Mount Weather, and some of the others are joining in because they think that we're delinquents who want to keep the nice land for ourselves and force them into the snow. So basically -" Clarke takes a breath, but Raven interrupts.
"So basically, you're telling me not to bitch about these stupid radios," Raven flashes Clarke a quick grin before returning her eyes to the quasi-radio.
"Is it the lack of supplies?" Clarke asks. "We can get more people searching." Or maybe the underground aid depot will have something they can use – then she dismisses that thought. The place was wrecked. Sometime they will have to go there to get the guns though. When the others get down, maybe.
"Please don't," Raven replies emphatically. "I have more than enough junk here. I've trained some of Anya's guys to recognise what a wire is, so I might get some good stuff from them eventually. But for the most part it's a pile of crap. Digging through it to find decent things is the hardest part. Monty's been helping out some. And Jasper's got a recipe for bombs after I've finished the radios, that shouldn't be too hard."
Clarke hesitates, but she has to ask. "Will you have at least one radio done by tomorrow? That's when Lexa wants to leave for Polis." And even waiting that long is making her edgy. Lexa's started spending significant time each day away from the village, just in case, and has ordered Clarke to be at the edge or outside of the village whenever possible, guarded by as many people as possible. Last night Lexa took some of the gonas on an impromptu hunt as far from the Mountain as possible and camped out, splitting the chief targets. With the number of scouts they have around it would be hard for Mount Weather to paint a target and send a missile towards them – but not impossible. It's good logic, since if she and Lexa both die then Emerson will be the only person to remember (if he does remember). Besides, she has no doubt Murphy or Drew will have told the Maunon everything by now. Polis is probably safe, given the distance and sheer number of Grounders there, but if the Mountain Men decide to attack TonDC with guns and gas grenades they might have a chance. Clarke just hopes the sheer number of scouts and guards and traps they have spread out around the area, and the impossibility of confirming if she's still there, will make the Mountain pause.
It's not particularly helping Clarke's mood to be apart from Lexa. They'll be able to spend time together again once they're on the move and a missile will be too slow to use effectively against them, thankfully, but for now it grates on her.
"I should," Raven says absently. "And once I've got one, it should be child's play to make more, the main difficulty is figuring it out from scratch 'cause I don't want to accidentally wreck the main one we're using by opening it up. And parts, they're always a problem. I'm looking forward to seeing Polis. Anya told me there's piles of mechanical crap there in the old buildings so I should really like it. She also called me a metal-brained, scavenging branwada. I really think she's warming up to me, by the way."
"Not knocking you unconscious is pretty much as friendly as Anya gets," Clarke says. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask. After Polis, will you come north with me and the Commander? We could probably use you. We'll have to leave the stations there, but I want to salvage anything important from the crash sites and I have no clue what's important."
"I'll think about it," Raven hedges. Then there's a moment where Raven looks up, and is clearly wondering if she should say something. She opens her mouth, stops, then says something else instead. "So, how are you coping? With what happened?"
"I'm fine," Clarke says. It's actually not a lie.
She mourns Murphy and the others. She mourns the gonas who died to call out a warning to them. But she can cope.
It had been a shock when Murphy and Drew were taken, and she'd nearly broken down over it. But then only hours later she'd been looking at Lexa struggle not to refer to the destruction of the Mountain – so Clarke had done it for her. Admitted the truth.
She'd thought they would change the world. And they have, somewhat. But not enough. They haven't changed the people, the threats, the dangers. They haven't changed the fact that people are going to die, that there is no chance everyone will survive, that this world is just that kind of place, however much she wants it to be something better. They haven't changed that some of the deaths will be caused by Clarke, even ordered by Clarke – and that she will do that, she will bear the weight of those deaths, because the alternative is stepping back and avoiding responsibility and causing more deaths. In the past, trying to prevent anyone from dying has only lead to far more people dying.
Like Lexa, she's born to carry this weight. It hurts and it should. She can't be Clarke the idealist right now when there are people depending on her to be the tough one. They don't understand this world. They shouldn't have to.
If the Mountain needs to fall again, and it probably does, then she will do what's necessary. She'll agonise and she'll fall apart again and she'll hate herself, but she'll do it. Because although Clarke never wanted to be the kind of person who could see other people's deaths as collateral damage or necessary sacrifices... now she is.
She once let Finn die to save countless lives. Now she'll let Murphy and Drew die to give them a chance against the Mountain. She can't save everyone. All she can do is try to keep as many people alive as possible. She can't blame Lexa for those choices any more, and she can't allow her grief and self-hatred to get in the way of looking after their people.
Even if the Mountain don't get her people, she can't just leave them alone in return, not anymore, not with what she knows. Leave them to turn a thousand Lincolns into Ripas, to bleed dry a thousand Anyas, to burn a thousand Atoms to death with toxic fog? She can't do that. And she can't make Lexa face them alone. She won't. They're in this together.
Raven looks at her like she doesn't quite believe her. "Okay," she says finally. Then she hesitates again. It's unlike Raven to hesitate at all, let alone this often.
"Whatever it is, just say it," Clarke orders.
"Was it you?" Raven asks quietly.
"Was what – oh." Clarke realises what she's asking about. "Finn. No, I hardly know him."
"But you knew about it?"
"Only because Wells told me," Clarke assures her. "He hasn't told anyone else, and neither have I."
Raven visibly relaxes. "Okay," she says. "Good. I – I wondered, that's all. I mean, it didn't seem likely that it was you, obviously you've got other stuff going on there, but you seemed kinda jumpy around me. Clearly I just scare you with my brilliance."
"Sure," Clarke says dryly, but she still can't help her smile. She wonders what Raven means by 'other stuff' – is she talking about Lexa? Are they that obvious? Or does she mean Wells? "I don't know who it was. You could ask Wells -"
"No!" Raven hurries to say. "I don't want to know, or I'd talk to Finn about it. I just wanted to be absolutely sure it wasn't you. You know, if we're gonna go on this massive road trip north together."
Clarke smiles again. "Glad you're joining us. It will give me an excellent chance to get used to your, what was it, 'brilliance'?"
"Clarke," Raven says in an exaggeratedly patient way. "I don't care how far we're going, it's not going to be a long enough trip for that."
"Right. That much awesome takes a lot of time to get used to," Clarke feels almost normal, taking to Raven like this.
"Mmhmm," Raven says jokingly. She flips her hair like she's in an old commercial. "Have you seen my face? Come on, look at this face. And what other mechanic could make radios out of scraps? Not that I have yet, but I will. I'm just that good."
Has she ever seen Raven as relaxed as this before? Maybe for ten seconds when they first met. Then, people were dying up above, and Clarke was the boyfriend stealer, and then the boyfriend killer. She valued her hard-earned friendship with Raven in the other world more than nearly anything, but there was never a conversation where she could forget how hard-earned it was.
She hates to ruin it. But she has to know. "So, how are you coping?"
Raven looks away. "It's not the same as people dying."
"That doesn't mean that how you're feeling isn't important."
"Then how I'm feeling," Raven says with a flare of anger, which doesn't seem to be directed at her. "How I'm feeling – is like shit, Clarke. While I was risking my ass to come down here my boyfriend was off screwing someone else. After ten days. How the fuck are we supposed to work past that?"
She was angry at me last time, Clarke realises. She was angry at me, and so she didn't get as angry at Finn. This time she only has one target. "Slowly, I guess? Look, he thought you were dead, Raven, or that you would have been soon. And according to Wells, Finn told him it meant nothing."
Raven sighs. "What would you do if you were me?"
"I'm not the brilliant one," Clarke evades, trying to sound joking.
"Oh, float that," Raven snaps. "You've kept just about everyone alive and made an alliance and become the personal advisor of the most powerful person on the ground and order the Council around like you're the one in charge of the Ark. You can't give me relationship advice?"
"What would I know about your relationship?" She feels incredibly dishonest as she says it. Especially since she knows some of what she wants to say to Raven, even if it's contradictory – her guilty conscience wants them to be happy together. But the rest of her wants Raven to be happy, period, and wonders if that can happen with Finn.
"You clearly know something about relationships, since it took you like a week on the ground to get a girlfriend," Raven replies.
"Octavia told you." Clarke makes a mental note to tell Octavia not to tell anyone else. She could have let something slip to anyone, and the last thing they need is gossip about them.
"Wells told me, actually," Raven grabs another wire and starts to work it into the existing mix, so quickly and deftly it's amazing to watch. "Not that I can blame you. The Commander's been pretty awesome to us. Plus, swords. Come on, we all get a little warm when it comes to badasses with swords."
Clarke raises her eyebrows. "Plenty of those around, if that's what you're looking for," she teases. None quite like Lexa, she has to admit. But still plenty of them.
"But I'm not. That's kind of the problem. Please, Clarke," Raven is unexpectedly straightforward again. "I'm not asking for therapy. Just asking what you'd do, if you were me."
What I did do, thinks Clarke. That's what I'd do. "Move on." Honest, but knowing Raven, it's more likely to have the opposite effect. Raven can be pretty contrary.
Raven jerks her head up. "Move on? He's all that I have!"
"Hey, you asked me," Clarke defends herself.
"Yeah, I did," grumbles Raven. "Doesn't mean I have to like what you say." There's a pause. "You did say he thought I was dead, and that it didn't mean anything..."
Clarke shrugs. "I didn't exactly say that. It did mean something. You refused to believe he was dead even though you had every reason to, and so you spent all your time finding a way to get down here and prove he was alive. He didn't do that." She watches Raven carefully for a reaction, too focused on her to consider what she's saying. "Raven, all I'm saying is that him saving your life when you're children doesn't absolve him of treating you badly when you're adults."
Raven freezes. "Saving my life?" she says carefully. "How'd you know about that?"
"Wells," Clarke lies, calling herself ten kinds of idiot in her head. It's so hard to remember what she should know and what she shouldn't. "He said Finn gave you rations when you were kids, that you're basically family."
"We are," Raven says. She sighs. "He loves me. I just don't know if he loves me like I want to be loved, you know?" She clacks something into place in her hands.
"I -" Clarke says, but a hissing noise interrupts her. She blinks and looks down at the makeshift radio in Raven's grip. "It's working. You actually did it. You made a radio out of scraps."
Raven gives her a smug grin, clearly trying to banish her moment of weakness. "What, like it's hard?"