Chapter 17

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Madi had returned to her cave, after dusk.

It was terrible, terrible timing, because dusk meant that it would be night soon, and Madi had, quite frankly, terrible night-vision. But she wanted to go back, to at least to gather her stuff and to give herself a small pep talk—if she could survive 58 days of nightmares in this cave with no one but her own brain for comfort, then she could do better now with Lexa and Clarke by her side.

But she was not alone.

It was loud, bellowing breathing that gave the perpetrator away. As if they weren't even trying to hide. Which meant it was a predator.

Crap! It's a bear!

Stunned at the sound, Madi stumbled backward and away until she saw a glimpse of the perpetrator's feral, wide eyes, aided by a beam of light.

And that was when she realised— It wasn't a bear. It was human.

''Who are you?'' Madi said hastily, eyes darting around the figure in the cave. They were breathing hard—they were obviously injured. But it doesn't mean that they were completely harmless.

''Carl. M'name's Carl.'' Heavy, heavy breathing. They had to be injured bad. ''And yours?''

''Madi.'' Her name slipped from her tongue. ''My name's Madi.''

''G-good. Madi.'' Another hoarse cough. ''Don't tell anyone I was here, okay?''

''Okay.'' Then, a frown passed her features. ''Why not?''

It was obvious that Carl was heavily injured. He needed help, or he would die. Madi could help. Clarke could help. Lexa could help. So why didn't he want to tell anyone he was dying in a cave?

''J-just... paranoia and a bad feeling,'' came the stuttered out response. Madi's frown persisted because that really didn't explain much, but her mind forced herself back to reality.

Right. Injured man. Needs help or dies. Can't care too much about motivations or reasons or whatever now. Just save him.

What was the sentence Clarke liked to say again? Save who you can save.

Okay. Madi took in a breath. She was most definitely not prepared for this (why, oh why wasn't Clarke here instead?), but she could at least try. What was the worst thing that could happen anyway?

Blood on your hands and a lifetime of regret.

She sucked in a breath. Oh boy. Right, Madi. So you better not mess up, then.

Okay. Just start with something simple. ''What's wrong with you?''

Carl laughed, almost hollowly, until he broke into a fitful of coughs. Madi saw warm spit land near the cave entrance. Blood. He's coughing up blood.

Okay. So something was really wrong with him. Fever? Cold? Injury? Virus? Something? Anything?

''R-radiation sicknesses,'' Carl said, as if reading her mind.

Madi stuttered out words, but almost all of them was a mumble. ''But... aren't you a Nightblood? You can't be sick if you're a...''

''Synthetic,'' was all Carl responded with, and Madi's frown deepened, because what in the Spirits did that word mean? And as if senseng her confusion, Carl elaborated: ''S-sick before.''

Okay. That still didn't explain things. But whatever. Right?

''Umm... okay.'' Madi murmured, still frowning. ''How can I help?''

''G-get me... a cloth. Water. Food. Please...''

Carl barely finished his sentence before Madi was rushing into the forests, going straight back to Shallow Valley for everything he needed.

...

''Madi—are you alright?'' Clarke asked worriedly once Madi had returned to the abode in a rush. One of her arms was caught by Clarke—and Madi looked up to meet Clarke's furrowed brow. ''Madi?'' Clarke asked softly, her eyes boring into Madi's soul.

And then, Madi realised that Clarke had been talking about what had happened during the hunt. Her own brow furrowed, as the images flashed by her mind—the blur of forests, the midnight dance of torches, a rousing crowd that chanted for a Heda's fall—but a moment later, it was gone.

She had paused, for a moment or two, blinking back the memories, which apparently had worried Clarke even more. ''If you want—'' Clarke began, both hands clutching Madi's loosely, ''— you can rest for today. Don't worry about anything?''

She did. Madi wanted nothing more than to rest and forget about the memories that raged in her mind. So blurred, so unclear, but the screams were the sounds that she heard the most. But her mind turned back to the dying man in the cave, and everything else cleared from there.

Clarke was still talking. ''No one would blame you. Me and Lexa—we'll take over. And hey—'' Clarke's lips quirked in a smile. ''— maybe we can work on your trebuchet, yeah?''

And at this, Madi squeezed her eyes shut. No. Not the trebuchet. Not right now. F-from there, the memories'll surge...

She felt Clarke's warm hands hold her palms. Like she wouldn't ever let go, not if she could. Like she didn't want her facing her memories alone.

Madi felt herself soften. She wanted so badly to accept the offer, to curl up in her bed and work on some mechanism that didn't bring back memories with Clarke and Lexa by her side. But... but this wasn't about her anymore. It was about the dying man in the cave, that needed her help so bad.

Opening her eyes, meeting Clarke's desperate ones, she gave one hard shake of her head. ''No, Clarke,'' she said, closing her eyes so she couldn't see the tears in her eyes. And then, Madi shook free from Clarke's hands, and gave her a small grin, with as much conviction as she could. ''I gotta—''

''Whatever it is, I can do it with you,'' Clarke rushed on, surprising Madi. And at Madi's surprise, Clarke gave a small sigh, and looked at Madi sadly. ''It's just... we don't want you facing this alone, Madi. We can help. Lexa and I. We've gotten to face a lot of demons, too,'' she said, a ghost of a sad smile on her lips. ''We-we can help, Madi.''

Madi's eyes flittered to the wooden floorboards. Her heart throbbed for her to say yes, to agree and to be brought to a place where there weren't any demons or ghosts anymore... but she couldn't indulge herself in dreams, not right now, not when there was the present to worry about and a person dying in a cave.

She blinked back something in her eyes, and looked up to Clarke. ''I gotta go,'' she mumbled half-heartedly and stumbled across the room. Clarke seemed slightly hurt, but it had soon reverted back into normal as she looked down, and that made Madi feel terrible.

Quickly, Madi. Take 'em and go. Talk—talk to Clarke later, okay?

Then, as she began to gather the things that a dying man would need—a bandage, gauze, something comfortable to sit on, and the inexplicable firewood— ''Why the resources?'' Clarke said curiously, as she watched Madi's unusual attempt at gathering everything she could in her arms.

''Nothin''' Madi muttered, trying to juggle food, water, and bandages all in one. ''J—just... I trapped a small dog in m-my bear traps and I want to set him free. Y'know.''

And exactly after Madi had said it, she cursed. Bear traps? Small dogs? Really Madi, great lying skills.

Huh. It was unusual all right, but Clarke didn't question it. Though she appeared slightly confused, she nodded, slightly, in approval. ''Okay, then.'' she said, voice quiet and hoarse. ''Go ahead, Madi.''

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