Kass Morgan - Homecoming

Glass stumbled through the trees and into the clearing. It was as she feared—the sounds of gunshots and the smoke that had stained the sky early this morning must have been coming from here. The entire camp looked like a war zone. Broken spears, bullet casings, ripped clothing, and pools of blood littered the ground. Some of the cabins were totally destroyed. Others looked as if someone had tried to set them on fire. Shell-shocked Colonists milled about, but she didn’t recognize anyone. It was if she had returned to an entirely different place, and she felt a cold shot of fear. What had happened to her friends? Where was Wells?

Then the sound of a familiar voice sent a wave of joy through her.

“Glass?” Clarke called from the doorway of the hospital cabin. “Is that you? Oh, no—is that Luke?” Clarke ran to them. Wells popped his head out of the doorway and bolted after her.

Glass freed herself from the sled. Clarke dropped to her knees and began examining Luke.

“Glass!” Wells shouted as he reached her side and threw his arms around her. “Thank god you’re back. Are you okay?”

Glass nodded, but then all the terror and loneliness and exhaustion crashed down on her at once. Now that they were safe, she finally allowed herself to feel everything she’d been holding at bay for days. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Wells put his arms around her and held her while she sobbed.

“What happened to him?” Wells asked after a moment.

Glass sniffed and wiped her face with her hands. “We were in an abandoned cabin way out in the woods. It seemed safe. But then they”—her eyes filled with tears again at the memory—“attacked us. The Earthborns. Not Sasha’s people, the other ones.” A deeply pained look crossed Wells’s face, but Glass knew now wasn’t the time to ask what had happened.

“Luke went out to chase them off, but they hit him with a spear. I did the best I could, but I didn’t have any way to stitch up the wound, and when I tried to bring him here, they attacked us again.”

Wells swore under his breath. “Glass, I’m so sorry you had to face all that on your own.”

“It’s okay. We made it back alive, right?” Glass managed a smile through her tears.

“Let’s get Luke inside,” Clarke said firmly. Clarke and Wells quickly but gently lifted Luke, still on the sled, and raced into the hospital, Glass following closely behind. They entered the crowded room. Glass couldn’t believe how many people were injured.

“What happened here?” she asked, astonished.

“Same thing that happened to you,” Wells said grimly, “only bigger.”

Glass raised her eyebrows, a million unasked questions on her lips. Wells could practically read her mind. “But don’t worry. Things are changing for the better here. Rhodes is loosening his iron fist, finally. We’re voting a new Advisory Council in tonight.”

A tall, gray-haired man Glass had seen around Phoenix limped toward them. He nodded in her direction, then conferred quietly with Clarke. They spoke in somber tones, examining Luke’s leg closely and listening to his pulse, heartbeat, and breathing. Clarke filled a syringe from a small glass vial and injected something into Luke’s shoulder. Then she began to clean his wound and suture it up. He flinched in his sleep but didn’t wake.

Glass stood by helplessly. She had been so focused on getting Luke back to camp that she hadn’t allowed herself to think about what they might tell her once they got there. Clarke and the older man stepped over to her. She tried to read their faces for some kind of hint, but they were both totally impassive.

“Glass, this is Dr. Lahiri,” Clarke began. “I trained under him on the Colony. He’s an excellent doctor.”

“Nice to meet you, Glass.” Dr. Lahiri extended a hand, and Glass shook it numbly. She was torn between her need to know Luke’s condition and her desperate wish not to hear any bad news. She swallowed and willed herself to remain calm, no matter what they said.

“You’re very fortunate,” Dr. Lahiri said with a smile. Glass let out a long sigh of relief. “He’s going to be fine. But if you hadn’t gotten him back when you did, he would have lost the leg. Or worse.” Dr. Lahiri put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You saved him, Glass. You should be very proud of what you did for him.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Clarke said, pulling her into a hug. “We’ve given him a high dose of antibiotics, and we will monitor him carefully. He’s a strong guy. And he’s lucky to have you.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Glass said through her tears.

“Do you want to sit with him?” Clarke asked. “I can have someone bring you some food.” Glass nodded and collapsed onto the bed beside Luke. She curled up next to him, her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat under her palm. She listened to his soft breathing, steadier now.

For those few days in the cabin, she had thought all she needed in the world was Luke. She loved their little hideaway, their secret life, where no one bothered them and they could be alone all day long. But now, after she’d come so close to losing him and had tested herself in ways she didn’t even know were possible, she felt different. Surrounded by these people who worked so hard and cared so much, Glass knew that she and Luke needed more than just each other. They needed their community. They were home.

They walked in silence. The only sound was the crunch of leaves under their boots and the rustle of the wind in the trees. The leaves had all brightened into vibrant yellows, velvety oranges, and deep reds. If she didn’t need to keep her eyes on the ground in front of her, Clarke could have gazed upward all day. Shafts of sunlight beamed down through the trees, showering Clarke, Bellamy, and Wells in a golden glow. The air was much colder than it had been just days ago, and it smelled spicy and rich.

Clarke shivered, wishing she had another jacket. They were stockpiling the pelts of every animal Bellamy and the other hunters brought back, but their collection was still small. It’d be a long time until they had enough fur for everyone.

Without a word, Bellamy wrapped his arm around her, holding her close as they continued through the woods. Max had sent word that Sasha’s funeral would be held tomorrow, and they were on their way to Mount Weather.

Wells was walking a bit ahead of them, but Clarke knew better than to call out to him. With all the chaos and excitement of the past few days, Wells had barely had any time to process his losses, and he was clearly grateful for the chance to be alone with his thoughts. Yet that didn’t stop her heart from aching for him as she watched him tilt his head back and scan the trees, as if expecting Sasha to drop down from one at any moment. Or perhaps he was taking in the sight of the brightly colored leaves, trying to accept the fact that he’d never get to comment on their beauty to Sasha, never see them float down and land in her dark hair. That was the worst part about losing someone—finding a place to store all the thoughts and feelings you’d otherwise share with them. When Clarke had believed her parents were dead, there’d been times when she was sure her heart would burst from trying to contain it all.

As they got closer to Mount Weather, however, Clarke jogged ahead to catch up to Wells. She slipped her hand into his. There were no words Clarke could offer to lessen Wells’s pain. She just wanted to remind him that he didn’t have to go through this alone. They were in it together.

They reached the Earthborns’ village just before nightfall. Max opened his door on the first knock, as if he’d known it was them. His cabin was heartbreakingly neat. All the machine parts and half-finished devices that had littered his table had been cleared away and replaced with countless dishes of food. “Please, help yourself,” Max said, gesturing toward the table. None of them felt much like eating, but they sat down with Max and told him what had happened since they’d left Mount Weather. He’d learned about the attack but hadn’t heard about the Vice Chancellor calling a vote for a new Council.