It was morning when Clarke woke to the interior of a truck. She groaned, stretching herself. Her back hurt from sleeping on the cold risened lines of the truck storage. Wrenching herself up and twisting her sleeping bag while she was at it, she found that the sleeping bag next to her was empty. After disentangling herself, Clarke slipped herself out and stumbled down the truck to meet the daylight shining in her eyes.
Lexa was already outside, gazing at the remains of the fire from last night. Embers were all that was left, surrounded by burnt branches and an ash of leaves. In her hand was a notebook. Her gaze swivelled to meet Clarke's after she stumbled from the truck, as Clarke moved to approach her at where they set camp last night.
When Lexa met Clarke's eyes, it was solemn. She passed the notebook to Clarke, who took it whilst rubbing her eyes, in an attempt to discern its contents. When her eyes finally digested the contents of the map, particularly the route and the stops in-between to Becca's Laboratory, Clarke's eyes widened when she realised what it was about.
''We are not telling her about Polis!'' Clarke said as she began to pace, but stopped, and picked up again around the clearing. In the middle smoked the remains of the dead fire from last night, as the fresh, acrid smell of the radiation and the dead forest hung between them.
Lexa sighed as her eyes traced Clarke around the forest, who was refusing to meet her eyes. ''We have to, Clarke. Eventually. When does she figure out that we are not the only ones left on Earth, but that there are a thousand living under the tower of Polis that are trapped, helpless from leave? That the bunker can only be opened from the outside, and that lies in our hands?''
''Just let it be!'' Clarke ran her fingers through her hair. Anguish coloured her normally-guarded expression. ''We can just visit Polis a-and not mention it at all! It wouldn't matter!'' And at Lexa's sigh, Clarke grew desperate. ''Lexa, you know how she is. If she ever finds out that there are people trapped in a bunker—that there are still others alive aside from us—you know she won't hesitate in trying to save them. We will never hear the end of it.''
''What is this for, Clarke?'' Lexa asked, face contorted in a mix of pain and anger. ''The longer you wait, the further she strays from us, Clarke. When we tell her, and if we don't tell her now—'' and at Clarke's distress, the solemn ache in her heart fell, ''—she will distance herself from us for the secrets we've kept.''
''She can't, Lexa. She's just a kid.'' Clarke protested.
''She knows more than you think, Clarke.''
''They're not our people, Lexa.'' Clarke shook her head. ''Not anymore. Our people are in space, Lexa. Octavia—'' and then, she stopped. Troubled. ''We're not telling Madi about Polis. Period.''
''Just because Octavia exiled me does not mean we shouldn't—''
''—not tell me about what?'' Madi yawned, stumbling outside from the truck. Rubbing her eyes as she glanced sleepily at them both.
Clarke and Lexa both froze until Lexa said icily: ''Go back to sleep, Madi. This concerns none of your business.''
''I'm pretty sure I heard my name.'' But then, she shrugged. ''But okay. Whatever.'' And with that, Madi climbed back into the truck, while casting a few looks back.
''Lexa...'' Clarke said. Emotions—so many emotions had run her tone, and of it, all Lexa could only discern anguish and hope. And hidden within— quiet, quiet acceptance.
''Madi.'' Lexa said firmly, as she wheeled towards the truck, even as Clarke stared at her in a flurry of emotions she wished she couldn't see. ''There is somewhere I need to bring you to.''
