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Abby sat in the control room, watching the 100. It was habit to start with Clarke in the center of the vitals grid and work her way out, her eyes jumping from face to face. Her throat tightened whenever her eyes skirted over one of the dead (and there were so so many).
But still. There was hope. A few bright minds in the botany and engineering divisions had bought the Ark another month of air and without the immediate threat of the culling, Abby was free to just… watch.
She was always collecting data, of course; writing down observations, noting trends in the heightened heart rates and blood pressure of the surviving members of the 100 and hypothesizing possible causes.
It was why she was worried about Clarke.
There had been a definite decrease in population, steadily. A spike in vitals, and then abrupt drop in blood pressure until flat line—something was killing these kids, hunting them. As much as Kane wanted to be a cynic and say it was radiation poisoning, there was enough evidence to the contrary (the hardiness of the rest of the living, for example) for Abby to suspect something else.
The 100 were being hunted down, dwindling to just over half of their original number until the killing just… stopped. Across the board, vitals improved. Children who had been on the bring of starvation were suddenly being fed everyday and their hematocrit and blood protein levels skyrocketed.
And then Clarke’s heart rate started spiking irregularly.
The first time it happened, Abby had nearly collapsed with relief. Clarke’s vitals had spiked, briefly, higher than they were whenever Abby could only assume Clarke was running or fighting, and then settled down again after a few moments. It happened irregularly enough that Abby could assume it was a glitch… and then it intensified.
It wasn’t unusual to see Clarke’s gaunt mugshot on the vitals grid surrounded by a ring of red, the soft beep of the alarm the only indication of the change.
Like it was right now. Abby sighed, checking the time (11:28pm EST) and sat forward in the ancient office chair set up for the night watch. She usually volunteered for the late shifts, because that’s when Clarke’s vitals usually were in the red and she couldn’t sleep when Clarke was down there somewhere, possibly running for her life.
Abby’s hands tightened on the dashboard. Maybe it was time to see that Raven girl about the crazy idea she’d had the other day.
“Hold on Clarke.” she muttered to herself. “I’m—“
“—coming, fuck.” Clarke panted, pushing her face into the crook of Lexa’s neck. Her hips twitched, shifting Lexa’s fingers inside of her. Her skin tingled, and Clarke could feel her orgasm right there if Lexa would just—
Lexa sat up, forcing Clarke to do the same in her lap. Clarke groaned at the new angle, whining a little as Lexa’s fingers curled and her mouth latched on to the peak of her breast.
It was the heat of Lexa’s mouth that sent her over the edge, mewling and crying Lexa’s name loud enough for the whole goddamn camp to hear. It was a fair trade; Clarke had made Lexa moan loud enough that her guards had almost stormed her tent to defend their commander from attack the other night.
“Pleasure looks good on you.” Lexa said, falling back onto her cot and smirking up at Clarke. Though it was Clarke who’d just cum her brains out, it was Lexa who looked thoroughly debauched. “I should make you wear it more often.”
“I’m the last one to say no to more orgasms.” Clarke said, raising one sticky thigh and sliding off of Lexa’s hips to settle by the grounder’s side. They breathed heavily, almost in sync. “But I don’t think this is what Anya meant when she suggested an alliance with you.”
Lexa snorted. “That is true. But none of my warriors were eager to die at the hands of children, and you offered your skills in exchange for your lives.” Lexa shrugged, her bicep brushing against Clarke’s own. “It’s was a simple enough bargain.”
Clarke shifted onto her side, propping her head on her arm. Her vitals cuff shone dully in the light from the dim lanterns that lit Lexa’s tent. She said nothing, but just smiled until Lexa squirmed imperceptibly under her gaze.
“What?” Lexa grumbled.
“I was just thinking that this wasn’t what the people on the Ark had in mind when they sent us down here.” Clarke said quietly. “I think they thought we’d die the second we stepped foot on solid dirt. And instead…” Clarke shrugged.
“Instead you’re in a bed, your people are safe, and you are…” Lexa swallowed thickly. “You are happy, I hope?”
The thin, fragile emotion in Lexa’s voice tugs at Clarke’s heartstrings and she smiles. “Yes, Lexa.” She leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder, to press a kiss to the warm skin of Lexa's throat. “I’m very happy.”
“I am glad.” Lexa said, opening her arms and drawing Clarke close. Lexa fell asleep first, the arm over Clarke's hip slackening. Clarke stays awake, breathing steadily, surrounded by the warmth of Lexa’s arms.
Somewhere, 250 miles above earth, an alarm starts to beep softly.