He’d just reset the timer before he left, but that didn’t stop the anxiety he felt to be away from the hatch. It wasn’t the virus, because he knew now that there was no such thing, but the last time he’d left he’d killed his partner and only narrowly avoided a catastrophe. Leaving became something that wasn’t very high on his list of things to do, even if, with each passing day, he became more convinced that there wasn’t any world left to save outside of this island. 

But he’d needed to get out of that hatch. He’d needed fresh air and real sunlight, so he’d made a decision. He’d gone outside, and though he didn’t go far from the hatch door, it was enough. It had to be.

He sat, trying to find peace in the jungle shade, when he heard a branch snap. He quickly stood, pointing the gun he’d brought with him towards the source of the noise. 

          the last thing clarke had ever expected was someone to survive the mountain. in her mind, when she and bellamy had pulled the lever, they all died. suffocated in their home to save the little group of people from the sky. after all, they had been grouped together in the dining hall, herded there by cage and his attempt to negotiate. the fact that some of the soldiers had been given bone marrow treatments had never crossed her mind, especially after she had fled from her people in search of comfort from danielle. they were dead, and they couldn't hurt anyone anymore  (  except in her dreams, apparently, they could always reach her in clarke's dreams  ). she should have known, though, that it would come back to bite her in the ass. that she couldn't simply kill an entire civilization of people and get away with it without any kind of repercussions. life had a balance, one that she had upset, and it was time to pay. to even up the fields.

          it's why emerson stands before them, gun held tight to a young woman's head. the brunette is on her knees, blue eyes full of fear even though she hasn't made a sound. she looks like a grounder, but there's something... it had only been danielle that had clued her in to what it was. why she looked familiar to clarke, even though she'd never seen her before. alex looked so much like her mother. an arm around the older woman's waist is the only thing keeping her in place, the only thing stopping her from launching the space between them at emerson. the male continues to rant and ramble, laying all the blame solely at clarke's feet. this was her fault. if she had just left well enough alone, if she had let the mountain do what they were doing, his people would still be here with him. he wouldn't be alone, wandering, never able to find a home because it was obvious he wasn't one of them. it was the blonde's fault. and he was going to make her pay. 

          there's a moment, a brief pause between the end of his tirade and the sound of the gun, where she thinks that it's going to be okay. that she can distract him enough, get the gun away from him, and save them all. and she's still not sure what happened, but before she can blink twice, he pulls the trigger and alex crumbles. danielle crumbles where clarke has a arm around her, but the blonde doesn't hesitate. the familiar weight of the gun on her hip for once isn't a burden, reaching for it and aiming directly at his head in one smooth movement. it scares her how good she's gotten at this. how okay she is with killing people for those she cares about. she doesn't give emerson time to take aim again, pulls the trigger without blinking, watches the bullet make a home in his head. his body seems to remain standing on its own far longer than necessary, before he crumbles as well and they're left with two bodies and the sound of death thick in the air.

          leaving danielle after escaping from the mountain had been harder than clarke had anticipated. after finally shaking the mountain men that had been tracking them, and doubling back to the woman's home, the younger blonde had checked her over. made sure that nothing was too horribly wrong, health wise, and bandaged her up the the best she could. it wasn't much, and she wanted to do so much more, but she needed to start planning a way to save her people --- and the grounders being held hostage ( a feat that was proving far harder than she imagined ). she had only been gone a few days, long enough to find her mother and company, the stark ugliness of the ark sticking up out of the ground like some welcome home that she didn't want. and after getting word to indra that she wanted an audience with the commander, and learning that it would take a few days, clarke had disappeared out of a hole in the fence that raven had showed her.

          which was how she had came to be in the situation she's in --- laid up in bed, with a decent sized hole in her abdomen. honestly, not where she wanted to be. well. the bed was okay. and danielle's company was more than okay. but.. being wounded and having to rest was not. she had things to do. commanders to meet. people to save. clarke didn't have time to take care of herself ( though every time she so much as even moved like she was going to get up, she was firmly pushed back into bed, and really was it that bad to catch a little bit more sleep? ).

It had been going well--as well as it could, anyway, for a sailboat’s journey through the oceans, until it wasn’t. Until the winds picked up and the sky grew dark, until a storm hit, and his little boat was assaulted by the suddenly hostile sea. He’d tried to ride it out, but his efforts had been in vain, just as they always were.

The last thing he remembered was rushing to protect his book, followed by a flash of pain in his head, and then nothing. Nothing until he was vaguely aware of warmth, and of being on the ground. (Sand?) He didn’t think, he couldn’t think, before he fell into darkness again.