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Jul 14

What The Hell Am I Doing Here? (A Clexa Rags to Riches AU) Ch.1

Hello! I started this fic literally like 6 years ago and only just picked it back up…. don’t judge me, at least I’m back. Here’s the link to ao3, and the full first chapter below.

What The Hell am I Doing Here? (I Don’t Belong Here)

Summary --Abby kicked Clarke out when Maddi was first born, she originally found out about the pregnancy the day after Clarke's high school graduation, and Clarke told her that she would get an abortion, but didn't and hid her pregnancy from her mother until she went into labor. It was a mistake to kick her out, but Clarke took Abby seriously, and left. Abby regretted her decision, and ended up looking for her daughter, but she never found her, Lexa, however, did.--

It’s cold, but Isn't it always? Isn’t there always a reason to be shivering, to be shaking in general. Not enough food in her belly, not enough sleep last night, bad dreams -terrible, dreams- no sleep at all -and that's not an exaggeration-, out on the street, winter time of course, although somehow it seems like fall is worse. Even just a chilling breeze, inside or not, one of those can hollow out your bones and then fill them back up with what feels like liquid nitrogen.

Tonight, it’s cold, but Clarke really isn't sure which one(s) of the millions of reasons why, is presenting itself. She can see her breath, unsurprisingly. Winter hit early, she's just thankful that she saw the blizzard that came with it indoors, shelter or not. She wouldn’t have survived it if she wasn’t.

She doesn't know where she’s headed. She doesn't want to take up any more space. She can’t keep doing this. No matter how many times her friends say that it's perfectly okay for her to stay with them for as long as she’d like, she knows that overstaying her welcome is not something that she can risk. She can’t rely on them unless it’s absolutely necessary.

She needs to keep moving, but she’s so tired. She's always tired but tonight, tonight she just wants to give up. Tonight she's starting to forget the reasons why she's kept moving all this time, all these years.

That is until the tiny hand she never wants to let go of squeezes her own just a little bit tighter.

“Mommy?”

“Yes baby?”

“What are you thinking about.”

“... I’m thinking about how badly I want to bite off that perfect little nose of yours.”

“No Mommy!”

“But I’m hungry for a snack, and your little nose is just the right size to fill me up.”

“But I need my nose! For sniffing, and smelling, and to tell me when I'm sick.”

“How does your nose tell you when you're sick?”

“It gets all stuffy and filled up with snots”

“Aah I see. Well then you’re lucky I don't wanna eat a snotty nose.”

There's her reason. She keeps going, she never stops moving, because if she did, this perfect little thing that she's created would get hurt.

Madi, at six years old, was the centre of Clarke’s life, as she should be. Her daughter was the epitome of everything right with the world. Youth, and wisdom, and beauty, and knowledge, and kindness, and confidence, and incredible strength. Her daughter was all of these things and she'd only been alive for just over 2,000 days.

“Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“I’m tired.”

Of course.

“Okay Madi, come here sweetie.”

Clarke crouches down, which she instantly regrets, because to her consistently exhausted body, that’s a form of taking a break, which she cannot under any circumstances do. If she stops, for even a moment, she will shut down, and that's simply not an option. Not now, not ever.

She takes a second to remind herself that this isn't a break and that she needs to get up. Then she readjusts the bags on her shoulder and back, fixes Madi’s clothes so that she stays warm, and picks her up.

“Go to sleep honey, we’ll be warm when you next wake up, I promise.”

“Okay mommy, I love you.”

“I love you too, Madi. Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.” The girl says with a yawn, as she quickly falls asleep with her head on her mother's shoulder, held tightly in her arms, as the cold surrounds them.

Time hasn’t seemed to be on Clarke’s side for a long while now, and she can’t tell if it’s been an hour, or a few minutes, but she desperately needs to settle down somewhere, because her body seems to be giving up on her, the cold has almost completely consumed her, as if with all of its strength.

She sees a bench in the distance, and for the night, it will have to do, she won’t sleep, just sit, and wait for the sun to rise, with Maddi in her arms.

That cold is still consuming her, and her body is still so very close to giving in to it, that is until she hears car tires on the freshly fallen snow not too far behind her. In that moment it's as if she was a puppy (which realistically would be any amount of time for a puppy) which had been told to sit for an excruciatingly long amount of time, and was finally given the okay to hop up into the air and do a few laps around its owner. The adrenaline starts to come through, not at full force yet, but just enough to do a better job at making the hairs on her arms stick up than the cold had been doing.

The bright white lights on the car turn on, and she’s tempted to look behind her, but her instincts are telling her no. Telling her that if she looks behind her someone will jump out and snatch her up and swallow her whole.

The car slows down just as she reaches the bench. She stops and decides that on the chance that this car isn't holding a murderer, passing by this bench would only mean her passing out a few blocks later. So she sits down, and the car, still not too far behind her, stops.

And there the rest of the adrenalin is. She's shivering now, so much more than before. Her body is aching in a different way than normal. Aching to snap her jaw open, scream out any words that may change the person in that car's mind from whatever horrible thing it's currently set on doing to her and Maddi, and if all else fails. To run.

The driver's side door cracks open, and Clarke starts analyzing everything. The car looks expensive. Like, millionaire, expensive, it's got a neon white lit underbelly, front, back, and sides, which means she'll probably be able to see what this person looks like when they step out. How tall they are, how big. Maybe even their face. It's not far, but not close either, so she might be able to gain a pretty significant head start if she waits until they get out completely to run. But what if they have a gun? Should she run into the park area behind the bench or straight down the road on the sidewalk?

All of those thoughts vanish as the door opens further and she sees the person in the car bending over to step out.

“I’m not- I’m not a prostitute. And, I have mace- on me- so, go away or you’ll regret it.”

Two things.

One, she’s not a prostitute (which there is nothing inherently wrong with) but if they’re really trying to find someone to have sex with right now in the first place, she doesn’t imagine that they actually care whether she’s willing to do so or not.

And two, she doesn't have mace on her, for a few reasons. For one, it's upsettingly expensive, and for two, the last shelter she had been in had a strict policy about having weapons, which she found absurd when she’d first heard about, but that's a topic for another time.

The person pauses in their movements as Clarke speaks, but when she’s done, gets fully out, and turns to face her.

All of that boldness goes away as soon as the person, a tall, slim woman looks her in her eyes.

“P-please just leave us alone. I don't have anything worthwhile to give you okay, I swear. I have nothing at all, besides... besides myself... but I- I'm dirty and I have my daughter with me so just please, don't hurt us... Please."

Of course she's begging, because she’s terrified. The woman responds immediately.

"No no! I don't want to hurt you I swear, I just saw a figure walking and I wanted to be careful not to hit anything so I turned on my lights and then, I- well I saw you, and you looked- well you looked… tired, distressed. And then I realized you had a child in your arms, and I- I just wanted to see if you were okay, or if you needed help or- or anything, really. I’m so sorry that I scared you. I mean you no harm, I swear It. Just say the word and I’ll get back in my car and drive away no questions asked."

Clarke was surprised, skeptical of course, but still surprised. She had assumed the car belonged to a man, due to how expensive it looked, and the overall knowledge of how creepy men can be by doing such things as slowly following a woman walking alone at night. However she wanted to be ready for anything so she kept an open mind about who could be in that car.

What she didn't expect was how sincere this strangers words would sound.

Clarke has been through many things in the last six years, faced many feats, braved, and cowared, in various situations. Maybe it was because she was a woman, or because Clarke was so very tired tonight, but never in all of these years has she wanted to trust someone so badly. The words she said were not by any standards the most enticing she’d ever heard. Still though, they seemed- She -this woman- seemed so... honest.

It isn't until the woman speaks again that Clarke realizes how long she had been silent.

“I-I understand that this isn't… isn’t something that you would typically trust. But if you’d like to come with me to my home, you could stay there if you need to, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or- or just for you and your daughter to have to continue to bear this cold. Believe me this isn't something I would normally do myself but, I just wouldn't feel right leaving here without offering some form of help to you if you need or want it. I have water, in my car, a big pack of bottles- they haven't been opened yet- and I have the heat on so it's warm. I- I don’t have any food but we could stop somewhere and pick some things up, and I could drop you off somewhere or right back here, whatever you’d like.”

She can’t believe that she's actually considering this, getting into a car with an absolute stranger.

“I’m not getting into your car. I don’t know you.” She finally said, as though she was trying to give herself reasons not to.

“I understand that completely. Would you like some water?”

“I… I’m not coming over there.”

“Right, okay... I could roll it to you?”

“That would be okay.”

“Okay. Good. It’s in my trunk so I have to go around. I'll put my hands in the air, so you know what I'm doing.”

Clarke just nods. She’s decided that she'll get the water -because how likely is it that this woman just carries around roofied fully and freshly packaged bottles of water in her trunk- tell the woman to leave, and travel a bit further just incase she tries to come back and find her again, she’ll find another bench somewhere to settle on for the night.

The woman keeps her word and holds her hands in the air until she needs to pick up the package of water bottles (she doesn’t have to put them down to open her trunk because it has one of those foot motion sensors on the bottom). She pulls out the package and sets it down on the hood of the now closed trunk.

“How many would you like?”

She had assumed she was only getting one to give to Maddi, most people that wanted to give her something were only feeling sympathetic after seeing such a bright and charming little girl, living in such conditions (and those were only the people who didn't write her off immediately after seeing her).

It’s not as though no one ever did the same for her. Occasionally, someone would offer some type of help, but she just felt like people were only doing it to feel bigger than her, and to make sure she knew that they were. The ‘sympathy’, was just horribly masked but sadly understandable pity. The rest of the time people gave her such disgusetd looks you would think she had been put on trial for mass murder and somehow gotten away with it.

People already thought less of her because she was homeless, but then when they realized that she was young with a child on top of that, It seemed that they couldn’t possibly see her any worse.

This time though, when she was being shown sympathy, if she was being honest, finally felt like the real thing, like actual genuine kindness. As she snaps out of her thoughts, and thinks about the question, she guesses that she has space for three in her bag.

“Three.”

The woman pulls out three bottles, and rolls them across the road and up against the curb of the sidewalk Clarke is now standing on, one at a time. She carefully bends down and picks them each up. Setting down the small duffel bag on her shoulder to open, and put them in.

As she stands back up the woman puts the newly opened package back into the trunk, and then raises her hands up again as she moves back over to the driver's side door.

They just look at each other for a moment. Waiting to see what the other will do next.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, it was no problem. I think- Unless there's anything else you’d like me to do for you then I’m going to go now, but… I hope things work out, for you and your daughter.”

As the woman moves to get back into her car, Maddi shivers, and Clarke knows she has to make a decision. It could turn out to be the worst and last mistake she ever makes, but she decides to take a chance, for Maddi.

“Wait... Please.”

The woman shoots her head back out over the hood of her car, waiting.

“I want to… Can I-”

Clark takes a breath.

“I would like to go to your home with you, please, if the offer is still there.”

The woman gets back into her car and closes the door, and Clarke thinks that she missed her opportunity, and that the moment of hospitality had ended.

And then the car backs up, turning further toward the sidewalk, and moves directly in front of her.

The woman rolls down the passenger side window, and Clarke can hear the doors unlock.

“You can sit in the front or the back, and- take your time, this is a big deal, I completely understand that, and I don’t have anywhere to be, so, no pressure.”

The front or the back. The back seems safer in that it’s not as easy to get hit, but it's also not as easy to hit the person driving. All the car doors can be locked and unlocked by this woman, and the car seems modern, new age style, so the locks probably aren't more accessible to Clarke than her.

It seems that both situations are equally as unsafe.

“You can carry your mace in your hand if you want. To make you feel safer.”

Was this a test, to see if Clarke actually had mace? Who would turn down the opportunity to protect themselves better. This seems like a test. If she says no, she'll fail, and she can’t say yes because she doesn’t actually have mace.

“I have a knife, In the glove box, like a swiss army, handy tool type of thing. You can hold that too if you want.”

That changes things.

“Well I wouldn’t want to mace you while you’re driving because that would hurt both of us so... so I'll just hold that.”

“That's alright with me. As long as you feel safe.”

Now was the time to choose, front or back, if she sat directly behind this woman it would be easier to evade any type of assault, but then the woman would probably think she was plotting to choke her from behind and steal everything she had. Trust is a huge part of this for both of them, so Clarke decides to trust this woman, and get into the front seat.

“I’d like to sit in the front, but I'm not moving my daughter.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to, I’m fine with that.”

Clarke nods and moves to put one of her bags down and on the floor, but then stands back up, suddenly wondering how she would fit in the front seat with Maddi, and two full bags on her, and also how she would open and close the door.

“Oh god, I’m an idiot, do you need help?”

Trust.

“Yes. Please.”

The woman nods, and gets out of her car, and walks around to where Clarke is. For the first time they’re face to face, this is the closest together they’ve been since this started, and Clarke can’t help but study her face, her body, her movements, without even thinking that It’s not polite to stare.

“Would you like me to take your bags? I could put them in the backseat.”

Clarke nods, and drops the duffel to the floor, and adjusts to hand the backpack to her.

The thought that they wouldn't be right next to her hadn't even crossed her mind, she'd gotten used to keeping the little that she owned on her at all times for fear of it being stolen or taken away, and right now she was wondering why someone like this woman (obviously rich with better things to be doing) would even bother to help Clarke, let alone allow her into her car, now that she thinks about it, she figured it would make more sense if this woman wanted to limit the amount of space Clarke took up to one seat.

Clarke had thought that her bags were heavy, maybe it's because everytime she carries them she’s cold (or hot depending on the weather and season) and tired and hungry. The duffel is full with the few clothes that she and Madi have, and the backpack is full of some food, they'd just run out of water besides what this woman had given them, a book, for Madi, an almost empty stick of deodorant, a bar of soap, and a hair brush.

Point is, she had thought they were heavy, yet this woman picks up the duffel with such ease that Clarke seriously questions how strong she would be if she'd had a full belly, and a full night's rest.

Logically she knows that this woman is just stronger than her, she can see her figure better, more specifically her arms in the light coming off the car, but she had truly felt like both bags were stuffed with gold bars, even on her best days. Maybe she just needed to find a way to build muscle mass, she walks enough so cardio isn't the problem, her diet isn't exactly healthy, since she doesn't eat as much as she should, and what she does eat isn't something Michelle Obama would give to public school kids for their lunch.

The woman puts both bags in the back seat of the car, and moves to open the passenger side door for Clarke to get in.

She finally, finally steps forward, and sits down into the warmth of this car. The woman closes the door as Clarke adjusts herself, and though the walk she takes around the car to the other side isn't long, it feels like some type of eternity. Like even though she's moving no time is passing.

She’s warm, and despite the still looming fear that she could be murdered, and/or raped, and/or kidnapped by this person, she's comfortable. She wants to close her eyes and fall asleep, but she won't do that of course, she can’t do that.

The door opens and the woman sits down, puts on her seatbelt, and starts driving.

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