I don't need you, but i want you.

The 100 (TV)
F/F
G
I don't need you, but i want you.
Summary
Her leather jacket is scratched and cuffed slightly on the elbows and there is an off white bandage wrapped tightly around her upper thigh but she doesn't seem to be in any pain. She moves with the grace and poise of a ballet dancer but strikes with the cold-blooded accuracy of a warrior. This girl has embraced death, the breathes it, feeds off it, relishes its cold hand. It follows her every move, stalking her but she is not its prey. She is not vulnerable, not afraid, not helpless and alone. She is death. She is the embodiment of death and it suits her.

The streets are silent aside from the steady thud of worn leather against tarmac. Alicia tries to be quiet, stealthy, tries to not draw any extra attention to herself because although the wooden baseball bat she grips tightly near her face makes her look imposing, she is no good in a fight. The world had gone to hell 3 months ago and she has yet to kill her first walker, not because she is squeamish or afraid, but because she still worries that the person they were before might still be inside; screaming and clawing at whatever made them a monster, desperate to escape the prison of rotting flesh that holds them captive. She knows she could do it if she had to but for now sneaking through back alleys and avoiding them like the plague is working and she is in no rush to have any more contact with the lifeless bodies than she absolutely has to. The more she tries to keep the noise she makes to a minimum, the louder her footsteps sound in her ears. It was possible that the crushing silence that engulfs the town makes the little noise her footsteps are making stand out and the rational side of her brain tells her it is unlikely that anyone, dead or otherwise will hear her. Still, she tries to keep as quiet as she thinks possible, the back alleys may be good for avoiding the majority of walkers but the blocks of brick and concrete that stand on either side of her mean that there would be nowhere for her to run to if she did come into contact with any un-dead.

Her back aches from sleeping on the hard floor of an abandoned shop and her stomach clenches and groans, tightening to an a point where she is hard pressed not to double over from the cramps that wrack her body . She is all too aware for the time that has passed since her last meal but the meagre supply of cans that she has managed to scavenge need to last much longer than they currently are. Plus, with the ever present shuffling of feet and low moaning noises that come from somewhere close there is no time to stop for a quick bite to eat. Alicia chews on her bottom lip in an attempt to distract her body from the hunger clawing at her insides. She doesn't stop walking despite how intensely her feet ache and the muscles working on holding up the baseball bat scream at her to take a break. She can't afford to take a break.

Nightfall is fast approaching, the sky already filled with orange and yellow streaks. Alicia keeps walking but her pace is slower, exhaustion painted plainly on her soft features. She had given up monitoring her footsteps a while ago and is now focusing her attention on finding somewhere safe to spend the night. Her bat is still firmly held in her right hand but now hangs loosely by her side, hunger being her main concern. She is not very alert and misses the quiet bang that sounds from behind her, something like a dragged limb hitting a metal dustbin. Her mind is processing the information slowly and her body doesn't react quickly enough. She feels rough hands grab at her back and she spins, baseball bat raised defensively to ward off the walker's desperately grasping fingers. She pushes the bat against it, avoiding snapping jaws and blood tinged teeth and ignoring the smell of the decomposing body that presses against her. Alicia attempts to find an opening that she can use to pull the bat back and use it to beat the man bloody but finds none and feels her strength rapidly fading, muscles trembling and feet scraping against the tarmac, trying to gain a foothold and stop her back touching the fast approaching wall behind her. It is strong, too strong for her and she has little power left to resist. Her brain goes through the list of options she has, unable to form rational thoughts as she becomes more and more terrified. Her eyes snap to the side where 3 more walkers stumble out of the gloom, each in various stages of decay and each adding to the growing feeling for dread that clutches at her heart with an iron fist. She curses internally and reels in the sob that sits on the edge of her lips. She is losing the battle with the dead man that has her pinned and her arms are barely keeping the feeble grip she still holds on the baseball bat. There is no way she will be able to hold out much longer, no way she will be able to kill 4 walkers without being bitten at least once and even if she could, even if she could find the strength to fight back, to keep on living, Alicia is not sure she wants to. Death seems so inviting, so easy and quick and final. At least it would be painless, at least she wouldn't have to worry about where her next meal is going to come from or that there are hundreds upon hundreds of cannibalistic monsters out there that thirst for her flesh and blood. At least she wouldn't have to wake up each morning and wonder if today she would have to kill someone, if today she would have to do something unspeakable to another human being to save her own life, if today was the day she would finally keel over from exhaustion or starvation or dehydration or that she would just simply give up, lose the will to live and wait for the dead to flock to her lifeless corpse. Death seems like a blanket that she wished she could wrap herself in, let it cover her, surround her, weave like a fog through her limbs and bury itself into her heart. Teeth clenched and jaw set, she makes a move to pull the bat away from the walker but something stops her at the last moment. Words demand to be released from her lips, words she can't remember hearing but she knows mean something. Words that need to be said before she can give herself over to death. She doesn't need to think about them, they are just there, as if written in her DNA. As if flowing with the blood in her veins, as if combined with the marrow in her bones. Tumbling from her lips and cutting through the silence, a promise of something better, a promise of peace, of love. They are a part of her. There is no one around to hear her speak, so addresses them to herself. The brunette's voice, although raw and cracked, comes out surprisingly steady:

In peace may you leave this shore,
In love may you find the next,
Safe passage on your travels my friend,
May we meet again.

She lets out a chocked sob and feels a single tear roll down her cheek before she stops pushing on the baseball bat that separates her from the walker. She closes her eyes, readying herself for teeth and nails and pain.

They never come. Instead, she hears a gunshot echo off the walls that surround her and feels the once writhing and forceful body that she was so sure would bring about her end slump against her and fall to the floor with a sickening crunch, the place its eyes had been no longer discernible against the red strings of flesh that now make up its head. She is vaguely aware of the blood that hit her face and clothes when the walkers head exploded but it is the least of her concerns as she watches a small figure clad in black leap gracefully from a rooftop, hit the ground, roll and jump deftly to her feet. She moves swiftly, twirling a small axe in one hand and a machete in the other and bringing them in an arc above her head, she buries the axe in the head of one walker and cuts the top of the head off another. Alicia can only stare from the sidelines, mouth agape and a wide eyed expression on her face. Never has she seen someone so powerful, so deadly, so commanding and ruthless yet feminine in a way that makes it very hard for the brunette to take her eyes of her. Blonde tresses fall to her shoulders, as untamed and wild as she is but they add to, rather than diminish, her beauty. Her leather jacket is scratched and cuffed slightly on the elbows and there is an off white bandage wrapped tightly around her upper thigh but she doesn't seem to be in any pain. She moves with the grace and poise of a ballet dancer but strikes with the cold-blooded accuracy of a warrior. This girl has embraced death, the breathes it, feeds off it, relishes its cold hand. It follows her every move, stalking her but she is not its prey. She is not vulnerable, not afraid, not helpless and alone. She is death. She is the embodiment of death and it suits her. She kicks out at the one remaining corpse which stumbles at the contact but doesn't fall to the floor. It begins to move towards her again, hand out stretched and fingers grasping at the air. She is too fast for it, however, and once the small axe has been ripped from the head of the first walker she sends it spiralling into the head of the next. She has retrieved the axe before the walker falls and she kicks the lifeless body to the ground. The blonde turns slowly to face Alicia, a small smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. She raises an arm to wipe the stray drops of blood from her forehead.

''Gonna thank me for saving your life Cutie?'' The girl cocks her head slightly and fixes Alicia with a lopsided grin. She rakes her eyes down the brunette's body, not even attempting to hide her intentions. ''Gotta say, the view down here is better than up there.'' She gestures to the roof from which she fell. Alicia is still staring, a shocked expression written on her face and a faint blush adorning her cheeks.

''Who are you?'' She stutters, her eyes shifting briefly to take in the woman in front of her before locking with pale blue ones. Alicia breaks the contact quickly, she squirms uncomfortably under the blonde's gaze and tries to avoid capturing those eyes again for fear of not being able to look away next time.
''Elyza Lex.'' She replies and Alicia only just notices the Australian accent. She feels a shiver run up her spine but ignores it and goes back to staring at the ground. Something about Elyza makes her nervous. Something draws her in. Something makes her want to know more about the Australian blonde who'd jumped from a roof top and killed 4 walkers in under a minute.

''Why did you save me?'' The brunette spoke softly, carefully as if afraid anything louder would scare the girl away.
''I couldn't let a pretty face like that go to waste.'' Her tone is mocking but her eyes travel to a dead walker's body and she looks almost sad for a moment. It is quickly replaced by a smirk and a raised eyebrow. ''Plus, I like your smile.''

''I'm not smiling at you.'' Alicia replies, her face blank, no sign of the shiver that ran up her spine at the blonde's words showing on her usually stotic features.

''Guess I have something to look forward to then.'' Elyza reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out a cigarette. She bites it between her teeth and flips the lid of a metal lighter with one hand. She leans her head down so the cigarette meets the flame and takes a deep breath.

''That was so bad.'' The brunette allows herself to giggle a little but her cheeks remain slightly flushed.

Elyza takes a puff of smoke and takes her time blowing it out before replying. ''So why are you blushing?'' She tilts her head to the side and gives Alicia a knowing grin. ''What's your name anyway gorgeous?''

''Well it's not gorgeous.'' She narrows her eyes slightly, Elyza just hums and raises an eyebrow. ''Alicia, Alicia Clark.''