Chapter Text
When I had finally walked through the gates of Camp Jaha, after staring for a good five minutes at the vacant spot she had previously stood on, I was scared for her. For Clarke. I knew she could handle herself out there, but I couldn't help but wonder what would happen when the Grounders found out about what we'd done at Mount Weather. Clarke may have trusted Lexa, but I didn't. Not after she betrayed us.
After a few weeks, I was beyond sad. It ate me up inside to have to make decisions without her. It ate me up to hear everyone calling her a coward and constantly having to defend her. I always expected her to come back, to pop out of the bushes like she'd pranked us all along. We weren't that lucky.
I think we all were scared when we realized she wasn't coming back after a few days. There was a collective feeling of emptiness, a collective feeling of "oh shit, what are we going to do now?"
We rebuilt. We renamed the camp "Arkadia" after hopes of Jaha coming back ran out. We developed strong rules. We became a community. We eventually made peace with the Grounders again, against my wishes. I remember thinking that if Clarke would've been there, things would've been different. She would've fought with me, defended me like she always had.
I watched Jasper drink himself to hell every night. I watched him and Monty's friendship disappear. I watched Raven try to tell everyone she was okay when we all knew she wasn't. I watched Octavia drift from Lincoln because of his alliance with us. I watched the empty half of my cot every single sleepless night become emptier and emptier as she was gone longer and longer.
As far as I knew, as far as any of us knew, Clarke was never coming back. The thought of her dying out there never crossed my mind, though. I knew that she was smarter than that.
But I also thought she was selfish. The more that she was gone, the more I felt that she betrayed us, just like Lexa had. She was always harping about putting our people first, about doing what is right for them, and yet, she did the exact opposite by walking away. I tried for so long to understand why Clarke did what she did, but I never could.
So I got angry. I stopped spending five hours in the woods trying to find her. I stopped leaving space for her in my cot in case she came back in the middle of the night. I stopped replaying the last time I saw her in my head. I stopped wondering where she was, what she was thinking, and how she was doing.
I moved on. What else was I supposed to do? When she walked away from me, I might as well have been as dead as Finn: killed at the hands of someone who loved him, someone who thought she was saving him in the process. I needed to move on from that.
One thing hasn't changed, though. I'm still in love with her.
That's what hurts the most.