Clarke breathed in slowly, her head aching tremendously.
It's dark. Where am I?
She tried her hardest to look around, each limb feeling even heavier than her head that was currently not upright. Her lungs felt empty, and not in a good way. It was as if she had the wind knocked completely from them.
The last thing she had remembered was walking to Lexa's house before losing consciousness. Had she fallen? Had she passed out?
Clarke's head was splitting now, a migraine not even the correct word to use to describe it. She desperately tried to move her arms which were quite obviously painfully immobilized to her sides.
What's wrong with you? Wake up Clarke!
As her vision began to come into focus and the throbbing in the back of her head continued to get worse, Clarke noticed she was sitting in a very uncomfortable silver metal chair, her legs tied to the legs of the chair and her arms and chest tied to the back of the chair with heavy duty rope.
This was definitely not Lexa's house, and if it was, Clarke was seriously considering dumping the brunette.
"Wake up." Clarke's head involuntarily shot up as somebody grabbed her by the ponytail, the throbbing only sending shooting pains through her scalp.
Jesus... Did I get hit with something?
The bright lights shining down from the ceiling caused Clarke to squint in pain. She could smell the bitter scent of iron. Blood.
Eventually, her eyes adjusted so that she noticed a Caucasian woman with white face paint standing above her, glaring down into her blue eyes with such venom that Clarke would've cowered had she actually been lucid.
"Welcome to the land of the living," the woman muttered.
Clarke looked at her, shifting uncomfortably, not even realizing she had a gag in her mouth.
Who was this woman? Why did she have Clarke tied up?
While these were all questions Clarke wanted to desperately know the answers to, she decided it best to keep her voice silenced in case whoever had kidnapped her had a weapon.
Inside, she was secretly terrified. Where was Lexa? Would her parents even know she was missing? She wanted desperately to begin to cry, her anxiety beginning to bubble over. Yet she kept her tears from falling. She would not show her kidnappers any form of weakness. She didn't wish for them to have their sadistic hopes fulfilled.
"Echo, is she awake? The boss wants to see her," A male's voice said.
Clarke slightly turned her attention to see a long haired and bulky man stalk into the room, his lips pulled into a thin line. He didn't look necessarily thrilled with the practices that were going on but acted as though Clarke weren't tied up and suffering in front of him.
"See for yourself Roan," the girl named Echo said to him.
He walked towards Clarke, his expression becoming more and more weary. "Well... I'll be damned. Echo, leave us."
"But sir-,"
"Now." Roan held up his fist, almost in a warning.
A few minutes after the woman was finally out of sight, Roan reached over and gently tugged Clarke's gag from her mouth. "I'm sorry for the way you've been manhandled by Echo and my men. Would you like a glass of water?"
Clarke stared at him incredulously, unsure of how to respond. Eventually, she found the courage she didn't believe she had. "No. What I'd like are some answers."
"You'll get them soon enough."
"At least tell me where I am," Clarke hissed.
Roan looked at her, his beady eyes searching hers for any intimidation. When he could see that he wouldn't find any, he cleared his throat. "Azgeda of the North End. I'm assuming I don't need to believe Lexa never told you about us?"
"Lexa told me enough. And Lexa isn't here," Clarke said sullenly.
Roan grunted and stood up, his anger bubbling at the thought of the brunette haired girl with the forest green eyes. "I have no strife with you Clarke. You won't be hurt here."
"You lead them. How do I know you're telling the truth?" Clarke asked.
Roan shook his head and merely looked down at his leather boots. "I'm afraid I don't lead them. I'm just a figurehead. My father leads us."
"Your...father?" Clarke asked, wracking her brain for any memory of Lexa mentioning Roan's father. She was certain she had never heard anything of the sort.
"He'd like to meet with you. That's who we're waiting on now. Just follow my lead and don't talk back," Roan said stiffly.
He looked as if she'd struck a nerve. Maybe Roan and his father didn't get along? Clarke had no idea and wasn't sure if she cared. All she was betting on was whether or not Roan would stick to his promise of not hurting her.
As if on cue, the door to the chambers that Clarke was stuffed in opened from behind her, but because of the direction she was positioned in on the chair, she couldn't see who had arrived.
Roan tried his hardest to maintain a stoic expression, but to Clarke it looked somewhat like a grimace. "Father, our journey across the border was successful."
No response. Clarke assumed Roan's father had just nodded.
Roan's eye flitted uneasily to Clarke before continuing. "She's here. We finally have her. And Lexa will have no choice but to come and get her. Then, we can finally get revenge for my mother."
"Patience, Roan. That's not the only reason I brought Clarke here," the somewhat familiar and fairly average voice said.
Clarke wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. Who was this guy? Why would he want her to be here if she didn't even know who he was? And if Lexa wasn't the reason Clarke was here, why was she really?
She felt a hand on her back, probably from Roan's father, and immediately tried her hardest to shy away despite the tough ropes that held her in place.
She was disgusted. What type of sick fuck was this guy?
"Don't you dare fucking touch me," Clarke snapped.
"That's exactly the attitude I expected out of her," the man said to Roan who was beginning to scowl. The way he spoke seemed as if he was ignoring Clarke despite her literally being right next to him.
Clarke was then swiveled around by Roan who really didn't have much else to say to his father.
And when Clarke saw the man standing behind her, she felt exceptionally surprised just by how normal he looked. He certainly didn't seem like a mob boss.
He seemed to only have a couple grey hairs with deep blue eyes and brown hair. He was wearing a leather jacket very similar to Lexa's, but the logo wasn't nearly the same. He smiled at Clarke, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes beginning to stretch and squatted down in front of the tied up blonde. "Clarke... I didn't bring you here simply for Lexa Woods. I'm your father."
And immediately, the realization began to dawn on her. Although she wanted to desperately yell at the man in front of her and accuse him of being a liar, she somehow knew he was telling the truth.
Maybe it was how similar the two of them looked, or perhaps it was the way she felt a sudden calming sensation around him. She didn't know, nor did she care. All she felt was sickness - headache, nausea.
"What?" Roan demanded, his eyes wide in absolute horror and shock.
Jake, or who Clarke assumed was Jake, put his hand on Roan's shoulder and grinned sheepishly at him. "Your mother and I had you before I met Abby, Clarke's mother. By that time, Nia and I were no longer on the same page in our relationship. But Azgeda is the legacy of both you and Clarke. And that is why she is here."
"You lied to me!" Roan unsheathed his knife.
Jake looked at him, completely unfazed. "Let's not do this here. Because you know you'll lose. And at this point, I'm sure Lexa is well aware of Clarke's absence."
Roan glared at his, or their, father before stuffing his knife away. "I'm going to head to the front of the compound. We will discuss this later."
Jake simply nodded his head and turned to stare at his only daughter, her gaze softening tremendously.
Clarke had always dreamed of meeting her father again one day and had always wondered what had happened to him. But this was certainly not how she pictured them reuniting.
"I can't imagine what you're thinking right now," Jake said.
Clarke swallowed whatever fear was taking over. "I'm really only focused on how these ropes are cutting into my skin."
Jake looked at her apologetically. "Insurance. I can't have you running away, now can I? I want to trust you Clarke, but I'm assuming this is all coming as such a shock."
Clarke rolled her eyes. "I knew you were alive. Just that you ran out on me. I've had plenty of time to stomach it, believe me."
Jake scoffed. "Is that the bullshit your mother told you? I'm surprised she didn't just lie to you further and tell you I was deceased."
Clarke stared at him, absolutely astounded that he even had the audacity to say such a thing. "How dare you claim my mother is a liar?"
Jake glared at her in anger, and Clarke could've sworn she saw the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. "Your mother wouldn't allow you to see me anymore. I bet you didn't even know she used to live here. That you were born here. And your mother and I dated in rebellion because her father didn't like kids in gangs.
"We thought we were being careful. And then she found out she was pregnant with you. And even though I was the new leader of Azgeda, I wanted to care for you. I wanted to be involved in your life. But she wouldn't let me. And of course, she waited until I left for one of my battles against Trikru. When I got home, she had completely packed up and left, every trace of her gone. Every trace of you... gone. I had only gotten to hold you a handful of times before she just..."
He stopped speaking and Clarke looked down at her feet, unsure of how to respond. The way this man was portraying this act to her, Clarke knew there was no way he was faking it. He had no reason to.
She was shocked but ultimately not surprised. Abby had always been secretive about Clarke's father or really anything before Marcus. Marcus had been in their lives for quite some time but Clarke had never really given him the time of day. She learned to quit asking her mother questions about her dad when Marcus moved in with them because she knew Abby wouldn't answer them.
"She never told me that."
"I can't say I expected her to," Jake said, his eyes avoiding Clarke's as he rummaged through a couple of papers on the desk nearest to them.
She had never wanted to believe her father was diabolical or that he was never going to win the Father of the Year award. All of those times of dreaming of him and how he would fawn over how intelligent Clarke had become were suddenly all laughable. He wasn't that man and he never would be. Clarke had dreamt of that man, made him up even. He was created out of her high hopes and love. But the man she loved was not the man who was standing in front of her now.
"Your men hit me upside the head. Do you at least have some ice?" Clarke asked, beginning to grow annoyed with her headache. She realized she wasn't in the position to be asking favors of the gang who had kidnapped her, but she also figured if her father really cared about her as much as he said he did, he would do something as simple as that.
Jake turned to look at her, his eyes clearly pained. "I specifically gave them orders not to hurt you."
"A little bit of ice is all I need. I'm fine."
Jake skeptically turned around and went in search of something cold for Clarke to apply to the growing lump on the back of her skull. Waiting to hear the click of a door behind him, Clarke began to try to slip from her ropes, practically panicking at this point.
Where was Lexa? Did she remember Clarke was supposed to show up to her house? What about her mom and Marcus? And what if nobody could find her?
Her restraints were incredibly tight and impossible to simply slip out of. Clarke groaned in agony from her headache and rope burns beginning to form against the skin on her arms.
She looked for the nearest weapon or sharp object available. The closest one was on the desk over fifteen feet away and there was absolutely no way she would be able to get over to it before Jake showed up again.
"Don't move," a voice said from behind her.
Clarke froze up, not sure who could possibly be speaking to her but yet the voice sounded pretty familiar. Her throbbing head had made it difficult to distinguish voices from one another.
The voice shoved something sharp and rough into Clarke's hand and bent down again to whisper into her ear. "He'll be back in a few minutes and I don't want him to catch us like this or you won't ever escape Azgeda. This is not your fight nor is it your battle. You don't deserve this. He lied to us both."
Clarke slightly turned her head and saw Roan staring down on her. She bit her lip. This was Lexa's mortal arch nemesis... saving her life?
"How do I know I can trust you?" Clarke asked suspiciously.
"You can't and you won't. But I'm the closest thing to getting out of here you'll get. He won't let you leave, despite what he says. He's unhinged, Clarke."
"Then why do you stay with him?"
Roan remained silent for a couple of minutes before bending down behind Clarke and loosening her ropes so that her arms could move around a lot easier than before. She felt the panic in her chest subside.
"Because he's the only family I have left," Roan sighed, "Take a right and two lefts and you'll find the garage of the compound. Towards the back of the garage, there's a door on the east side. People hardly go through there. You should be able to slip away easily. Don't stop running until you get someplace safe."
"Then you have to understand that Lexa is part of my family too," Clarke begged.
Roan glared at her and the look practically made Clarke cower. However, his eyes immediately softened when he noticed Clarke looked terrified.
"My strife is not with you. Lexa killed my mother. My fight is with her and her alone," Roan said.