Lightning Only Strikes Once - Clexa

Chapter 2: Teenage Hormones Suck

When Clarke comes back to herself, the world is still strange and wrong, her head aching with confusion. Her limbs feel too weak – not just from having recently fainted, but because she's lost the muscle she built up over those long months on the ground. Her skin's smoother than it should be, her hair is shining and silky, and she feels so clean it's like she's raw.

She isn't the woman they call Wanheda, the one who defeated the mountain, not shiny and clean and perfect. This is the girl they call Princess.

"Hey, Clarke," Wells is next to her, brown eyes alive with concern. He's sitting away from her – no doubt in deference to her hatred of him. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"Fine, I'm fine," she says weakly. Concentrates on breathing in and out. She gets out the map so she has an excuse to sit down and stare at it blankly.

She was tough the first time she fell to the ground. Now she's tougher. So, this is unexpected; impossible, even. But then so was the existence of Grounders and AIs and giant mutant gorillas. She dealt with them, time to deal with this.

Besides Wells sitting next to her, the only people around are Bellamy and Octavia, talking in fierce whispers just within the clearing, a couple making out against a tree, and judging by the sound of giggling a few people inside the drop ship. She can hear whoops coming from the forest. The 100 have had time to disperse, she must have been unconscious for quite some time. Thankfully, Murphy's nowhere nearby.

"We got problems, Clarke," Wells says softly after she's been staring at the map for some time, pretending to study it as her mind races with thoughts and ideas. "The systems failed, I think that's what knocked you out. And the communication system is dead. A dozen panels are missing."

"Okay," she says, and forces herself to her feet. A thought comes into her head: the living are hungry.

Clarke wonders if she should be trying to keep everything as close to the original timeline as possible, like in the cheesy old time travel movies she and her father used to watch together. But that option's already gone – it's later in the day than when they set off last time. Even if they'd set off at the exact same time as before, if they'd walked slower or faster than the first time... the spear could pierce Jasper's throat, his heart, his stomach. It could hit another one of them. There could be more Grounders there. There could be Reapers. Worst of all, there could be people from Mount Weather to come out, capture them, find out about their blood and track down the rest.

Plus... she is Wanheda. She is the Commander of Death. And right now, she refuses to let it anywhere near her people. She refuses to try and follow a path that ends up littered with corpses.

The original timeline can go float itself.

"Alright, I think our first priority has to be food," Clarke says to Wells, putting away the map. "We don't seem to be anywhere near Mount Weather. So we need to try and find something closer, hunt or fish or forage."

"We don't even know if there are animals here," Wells points out.

"Well, there has to be something around." Clarke says. "We'll see if we can find anyone else who wants to help -"

"I'll help," Jasper butts in excitedly from behind her, coming out of the drop ship. Clarke jerks in surprise, turning to face him. He gives her a big, dorky grin. "Anything for a pretty lady!" Monty, also there, rolls his eyes.

Wells steps forward threateningly. "You mind?" he challenges Jasper.

"Hey, what's happening?" Bellamy strides towards them, hand already on his gun. Octavia trails behind him, looking annoyed about something.