Chapter Text
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The funeral was on a Wednesday.
Perhaps she knew in some part of her, her death was being acknowledged. Her chest hurt and she couldn’t breathe and for the first time, she felt like this was who she was. The girl chained to the wall.
When she’s in the cell, it’s loud.
On the days that Bellamy doesn’t come to her, Clarke feels like she’s aware of every single noise that echoes in the area. Down the hallway, the roof leaks and water dribbles to the ground, plopping in a melodic beat that makes her chest ache and brain scream. Somewhere she thinks that there’s an animal loose in the cell because there’s scratching – oh god, the scratching – that burrows in her mind and she has dreams of them running their claws up and down her skin.
However, the loudest thing? The loudest thing when she’s by herself is the silence from her people.
Clarke isn’t sure how much time has passed, but she knows enough has to know they aren’t coming for her. The silence is as damning as the silence before she left with Russell, something in the back of her mind telling her it’s the last time she’ll ever see her people.
The silence paves the way for her own anxiety, and she uses the repercussions to think of every decision she ever made. Closing the dropship, pulling the lever, staying in Polis, climbing the satellite tower, leaving Bellamy… letting everyone go.
There are few times in her life that Clarke has thought that she’s had enough. Sitting here on a dank floor, alone and pain shooting down her arms, Clarke thinks it. Because the world will not remember her as a good guy or a bad guy. They will not remember her as the Commander of Death, they will not remember her Wanheda.
She’s left, tied to a wall.
The world will not remember her at all.
***
Clarke is having a hard time looking away from the smoke from the lab. She doesn’t need to be down on the ground to know that the lab’s collapsing on itself. Peering over the edge of the roof, Clarke is able to catch the glass shattering out and smoke billowing through the windows. Fire and chaos shiver through the foundation until the entire building trembles and shakes, collapsing to the ground.
Even though the two of them are far away, Clarke can feel the tremors in the building and keeps her hands over Madi, who wraps her hands around her head. She watches as Russell steps closer to Bellamy, his gun trained on him, the guards behind him inching forward as well. Except even from here, she can see their hesitation in their movements as they wearily eye the Wonkru army.
It hits her.
Eligius never needed an army before they landed. Sure, they needed enforcement, but they were a collection of contractors and scientists. They poured their resources into building a world and not defending one. Clarke thinks of her time in Eligius and how rare it was to see the guard out. How rare it was for them to be running drills, simply because they didn’t need it.
Until they landed.
What is it about the other that brings out the worst, most violent, of the human race?
Peeking over the ledge, she sees Bellamy still talking, the Wonkru army shouldering their weapons as they wait for a start. Everyone is waiting for a start. Everyone is waiting for that one person to make the first move. It’s as if the world is holding its breath, wondering when humans will destroy it one last time.
When Russell presses the gun to Bellamy’s forehead, something inside of Clarke snaps. Something inside of her that has been paralyzed by fear of this place – by the repeat of events that she couldn’t bring herself to work through. She’s been through wars, she’s been through loss – she’s seen pain and overcome it, but here, on this place, she felt loneliness.
Except for Bellamy.
Clarke remembers there wasn’t complete silence. Even when she was leaving, there was one voice. One voice who yelled, one presence who followed her, who didn’t let her leave without even the smallest fight. Even when she was by herself in the cell, he became a safe space to hide in.
Her hands shake as she places the front of the sniper rifle onto the edge of the roof, adjusting the scope.
***
“We have not condemned your people to death.” Bellamy states, trying not to show too much concern for the gun resting on his forehead. “We have prevented your people from using your technology to torture ours. It is your decision whether you will condemn your people to death. Because sure, you may have lived here longer than we have. You know the land and have an infrastructure. But we have been fighting for our lives for years. Sure, you have the numbers. But we have the history.”
The guards behind Russell clutch their guns nervously, but to their credit, stand their ground. Bellamy knows what the army behind him looks like. In the clean streets of Eligius, the armor of Wonkru must be terrifying. Paint covering their faces, cloaks and weapons littering their bodies. The eyes of warriors who have stared death in the face and won.
Sometimes a weapon can be more than simply a blade. It can be the fear of the resolve to match.
“We made an offer.” Bellamy states, now talking to everyone in the area. “We offered our help and knowledge with radiation poisoning. You don’t have to take our people to get healthy lives. We’re willing to help you find a cure. What we’re not willing to do is sacrifice our people at your hands for peace.”
“It is one person!” Russell yells, the gun shaking. “Are you willing to trade peace for the life of one prisoner you love?”
Bellamy’s startled by his outburst, but he takes it in. Really, takes it in. There’s no hiding it from anyone. He’s said the words in private, but now it’s time to say the words out loud.
“You ask too high a price.” Bellamy says softly. “We don’t trade lives for profit. Never again.”
“We’re getting close to a solution.” Abby pushes through the ranks of the army. “We need time and access to your sick. We can help you. There’s always an answer. We can help.”
Bellamy can sense the dissent rising behind the man. He can see it in their eyes. Russell clenches his jaw and then presses the gun further, scraping against his forehead.
Then, something startles him
There’s a beam of light.
A green laser light shines on the forehead of Russell, matching where the man is currently pointing the gun at Bellamy. Bellamy frowns at that, causing Russell to do so as well. “What?” He asks, looking up to where the spot of light is. “What is this?”
“Is that a laser sight?” Bellamy hears Diyoza say behind him.
“You’ve infiltrated my city.” Russell states. “We didn’t have any activity of you guys anywhere except outside the border. How did you manage to get people throughout the streets?”
“We didn’t,” Bellamy says softly. “We—”
The moment it hits him, it occurs to everyone else.
“Clarke mothafucking Griffin has the high ground!” Murphy yells, thrusting his fist into the air.
Indra turns to him, points, and says slowly, “Star Wars?”
A smile breaks out on Murphy’s face. “Yeah!”
“The fact that no one has slit your throat out of sheer annoyance is astounding to me.”
Diyoza leans close to Octavia. “It’s true, but she shouldn’t say it.”
Russell doesn’t say anything for a moment. He keeps his gun there and Bellamy knows that there still is a good chance he’s not walking away from it. Sure, the war won’t happen. There’s too much chance of death and a guard that is under qualified. But this is a man trapped in the corner. A man put in a cage and willing to fight his way out.
“This is not how this ends.” Russell states. “This is not how this ends.”
Bellamy tries to indiscreetly raise his gaze to the source of the light.
***
She could do it.
Clarke could so easily do it.
There’s a dark part of her who wants to. She wants to pull the trigger and have the person pay for what he did to her. Sure, Justice Mulroy was at the front of the operation, but it took Clarke all but a minute to realize who was pulling the strings in the background.
He took so much from her. Her life was comprised of people taking pieces from her. It happened so small, she isn’t sure she noticed. A piece there, a piece here. Suddenly, she was fragmented and chipped in ways she never expected. She was no longer whole.
Then they had the audacity to ask her why.
Clarke stares through the scope, able to see the green laser light on his forehead.
She could so easily pull the trigger.
No one would question it. She’s killed for less. Much less.
Be the good guys.
Clarke lets out a cry in frustration, a few tears rolling down her cheek. Finger hovering over the trigger, Clarke tells herself to pull it. It’d save Bellamy, it’d save her people. One less evil in the world.
But…
He was trying to protect his people.
Is that so wrong?
***
There are times when the world really does stop. It continues to rotate, time passes, but everything living pauses together in unison.
The world is pausing.
Bellamy knew being the good guys wouldn’t be easy. It never is when circumstance places their hand over yours and demands you shed blood. He’s been fighting against it since they land, but a part of him feels weary. Will being the good guys always mean violence?
The green light is shaking. He knows what must be going through Clarke’s head. Every life they’ve ever taken, they’ve made excuses for. Reasons as to why they took them.
The green light moves down and lands on Russell’s thigh.
A shot rings out.
Russell collapses at the noise, another shot exploding in the area. It takes a second for Bellamy to register it.
Pain hits him all at once and in full force, so much so he stumbles. “Bellamy!” Someone shouts but it’s sounds distant.
He doesn’t fall though. Bringing his hand up to his face, it comes back with blood dripping down his fingers. Someone grips his shoulders and he blinks, Abby’s face coming into view. “Look at me, look at me.” Abby breathes, her hands hovering over his cheeks.
“He shot me.” Bellamy says, a bit dazed. He knows that it’s an obvious expression, but it’s the only thing that’s running through his head at the moment. “He shot me in the head.”
“Yes he did.” Abby states, wiping the blood from his brow. “But it looks like he missed as well. Just a graze. Head wounds tend to bleed a lot, so it looks a lot worse than it is.”
“Do they tend to feel a lot worse than they are, because it doesn’t feel great.” Bellamy states and the entire world shifts on its axis.
“Okay, okay,” Abby states, her hands up to brace him. “Let’s not move too quickly because while he may not have shot you in the brain, you still had a serious head injury.”
Bellamy blinks a few times, trying to convince the world to stop moving. “Should I be convincing them not to shoot us?”
“I feel like you’re a bad example of that.” Murphy states, approaching the man and clapping him on the back. “Besides, as usual, the high ground wins.”
Bellamy barely is able to make sense of what the man is saying when he watches as the guard sets their guns down.
***
The moment Russell falls, Clarke breathes.
She can’t hear his scream, she can’t hear what he’s saying. All she can do is watch him collapse to the ground, his hands splayed at his side.
Clarke looks at the man, his eyes squeezed shut in pain as he places a quaking hand over his leg. Through the scope, she can see the blood trickle through his fingers.
Still red.
It occurs to her. He was saving himself for last.
Crouching behind the edge of the roof, Clarke slides down the brick. He bore it, so no one else had to. The gun falls from her hands and clatters at her side, Clarke shutting her eyes and breathing.
Breathing.
She tries to think of the last time she breathed easy. It felt like a chore – like something she no longer would be able to do without thinking. Because every breath reminded her that it was hard and the world was unkind to those who wanted to thrive. Instead, she sucks the air in her lungs and breaths and breathes and breathes.
“Are you okay?” Madi asks tentatively at her side, scooting over so she’s sitting cross-legged in front of her. The teen already looks lighter, the darkness behind her eyes fading and the weight of the world slowly shifting off her shoulders. The girl reaches out to touch Clarke’s arm, to which Clarke wraps her hand around.
“Yeah,” she says and it’s honest. Real. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“We should go down and join them.” Madi states, starting to scramble up from her seated position.
“Wait.” Clarke states, holding her hand and keeping her there. Madi startles, crouching back down to where she was. “Before we go and join the others, we need to do one thing.”
“What?”
Reaching in her pocket, Clarke pulls out the Flame where she’s kept it. It glints in the sunlight, resting in the palm of her hand. It seems so innocent for something that’s caused such chaos and war. Clarke can’t help but loathe the sight of it, for all it’s taken away. A part of her wants to chuck it right there, but instead she says, “Your decision.”
Madi blinks. “What do you mean?”
“You got rid of it to save me, just like you took it to save me. You being the Commander has always been about circumstance and you should choose whether you want this life for you.” Clarke raises her hand. “If you want to be the Commander and you want that life, that’s your choice. You made a decision to be what the people needed in a highly emotional situation. You took it out because you knew the Commanders would convince you to give me back. Now?” She smiles at the girl. “Now, it’s just you and me. No one’s around to pressure you. No one’s watching. If you could choose, just for you, what would you do?”
Madi reaches out and grabs the Flame from her hands and places it between her fingers. It catches the sunlight, glinting. So much pain and loss in one piece of machinery. Madi gazes at it, then places her hand onto the back of her neck. Biting her lip, the girl looks up at Clarke. “I can choose? Whatever I want?”
Clarke nods. “Whatever you want. I’ll support you no matter what.”
Madi frowns at the Flame. She looks to it, and then to Clarke. With a breath, she raises it up. Clarke shuts her eyes, unsure if she wants to watch this happen again.
Throwing it onto the ground, Madi rams the heel of her boot into the A.I., grinding it until it’s nothing more than a collection of wires and shrapnel.
Clarke actually jumps backwards at the response, unable to stop her growing smile as she stares at the collection of shattered parts. “Um… wow.” Clarke states, a laugh catching in her throat.
Madi sighs. “That felt awesome.”
“It looked awesome.”
“My family spent their entire lives trying to protect me from that. They lied to the Commander – the Conclave. Hid me under the floor.” Madi’s eyes water. “Was willing to be executed in order to keep me safe.” Madi reaches out and hugs Clarke, pulling her closely. “Nothing good can come from years of war. We have a fresh start. We shouldn’t be bringing our old wars with us.”
Clarke reaches out and wraps her arms around the girl. “Spoken like a true leader.” She says quietly.
***
Bellamy is confused.
Sure, he was shot in the head and sure, he wasn’t expect people to lay down their weapons, but everyone is talking so fast and he isn’t sure what’s going on. He’s seated on a bench with a rag to his head, now soaked with his blood, while Octavia sits next to him, railing on his decision to risk his life again.
He’s missing pieces in and out of conversations. A few yards ahead, Indra is standing, speaking with a few people at the front line. She’s calm, but direct, Abby and Kane close by.
Maybe he can rest.
“Bellamy, oh my god, did someone shoot you?”
“No, I’m just trying a new look.” Bellamy groans, turning to see who’s yelling at him. Raven sprints down the road at him, Shaw close in tow.
Running up to him, Raven skids to a stop and stares at Bellamy. “Oh my god, what did you do?”
“Why do you instantly think that I did something?” Bellamy groans.
“Because usually when someone shoots you, you did something to piss them off!”
Murphy leans close to everyone. “Huh. It sure is nice when it’s not me.”
Shaw glances around. “Looks like things have calmed down. What happened?”
Murphy shrugs. “Oh, you know. Bellamy made an inspirational speech about humanity and working together and then someone tried to shoot him in the head. Exactly how you’d imagine it’d go.” Murphy purses his lips. “You know, I’ve thought about shooting Bellamy in the head so many times when he was giving speeches, and now that I’ve discovered that it won’t kill him, I may have to surprise him.”
“Surprise him with murder?” Shaw asks. “Judas, no.”
Murphy makes a face. “I hate the fact that you were born in a different time.”
“Technically I’m your elder so you should listen to me more.”
“Raven, control your man.”
“Naw, I’m good.” Raven says. “Seriously, Bellamy, are you okay? You’re are literally dripping blood everywhere.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he breathes. “You guys alright?”
Raven rolls her eyes. “Obviously. Diyoza was right though, we ran into your friend at the lab, but she wasn’t trying to take it down, she was trying to evacuate everyone out of there in case we decided to take it down.”
“Please don’t tell Diyoza she was right.”
“Too late, I already heard!” Diyoza calls from a few yards away.
Chuckling, Raven continues, “It was good, though. It meant there weren’t workers in the building, so when it went down, no one died.”
“I shouldn’t have assumed that she would be fine with helping us when she didn’t know us as anything other than hostile.” Bellamy sigh, a blinding pain in forehead growing. “I don’t know a single person who would’ve just trusted us just with our words.”
“Maybe that’s the point.” Diyoza says, approaching the group. “The issue was we didn’t even try to get to know them. Or vice versa. If we share land, we should share ourselves too. We need to get to know our neighbors.”
“Being a mother has softened you.” Shaw says, nudging her arm.
“Shut up.”
Bellamy takes the rag from his face when Octavia hands him a new one from the stash Abby gave her. He drops it on the ground and presses it against his face, wincing. “You wanna hear something crazy?” Raven asks, looking around. “Since that woman was able to clear out the lab before we blew it up and Clarke shot Russell in the leg and he shot you in the head—”
“Rude, I’m sitting right here.”
“—this ended without casualties. On the Ground, I feel like we didn’t even go a day without someone dying.”
Murphy jabs his thumb in Octavia’s direction. “You forgot about how Octavia shish kabobbed some guard.”
“But she only stabbed one person when she could’ve stabbed ten.” Raven counters. “That’s growth.”
“Guys, I’m sitting right here.” Octavia states, waving her hand.
Raven and Murphy say at the same time, “We know.”
Bellamy peers at her, to see if her eyes fall. If she crumbles even a bit. Instead, the corners of her mouth turn up. She doesn’t move, nor do they ask her. She sits among the people she came to the ground with, people she fought alongside with, people she hurt and hurt her.
They all stay.
Miller trudges up to the group, swinging his weapon across his shoulder. “Indra’s working things out, but I think the general consensus is we have a lot to figure out. Fortunately Abby’s calming them down with talks about blood and genetics and radiation—”
“What are you even talking about?” Murphy cries.
“I dunno. Science.” Miller shrugs. “Looks like I took a three hour walk for no reason.”
Murphy snorts. “You’re such a dick, man.”
“You should really look in the mirror before you call someone that.”
Shaw smiles. “You know, when you’re not marching to murder me, I think I like you.”
Miller makes a face. “Are we… joking about that?”
“What, too soon?”
Murphy rolls his eyes. “It’s been two years, let’s move on, people!”
“Bellamy, how’s the head?” Abby asks as she, Indra, and Kane approach them.
Bellamy stands, which isn’t the smartest thing in the world because everything tilts again. “You know, still on my shoulders.”
“Age hasn’t made you less stupid with injuries.” Abby sighs. “We’ve agreed to open peace discussions. With the assassination of their Justice and Russell now facing capital crimes, they’re going to be restructuring things. It’ll give our people an opportunity to heal and come up with a plan on how we want to approach our two cities.”
Kane grins. “Shockingly, when Murphy wasn’t there, no one threatened us.”
“You love it.”
Footsteps sound in the back of Bellamy’s mind. He thinks that it’s his headache, but they’re getting louder. And then everyone turns at the noise.
There’s a streak of gold, a flash of movement, and then something collides with him.
Honestly, it almost knocks him over.
Dazedly, he struggles to put the pieces together, but a set of arms wrap around him. They squeeze and the person sets their chin on his shoulder, breathing, “Oh my god.” They breathe.
“Clarke.” He sucks in a breath, only taking a second to return the embrace, no matter how dizzy he feels.
Although, it didn’t occur to him that he wasn’t breathing fully until she’s in his arms. Even though logically he knew she was somewhere else, seeing her, holding her, touching her – it all goes away.
They’re all okay.
Pulling apart, Bellamy takes her in – really takes her in. The suns are high in the air and it brightens her eyes in a way that makes them sparkle like the stars in the night. She’s smiling at him and everything is warm. Although it falters, Clarke asking, “What happened?”
Murphy cups his hands over his mouth. “Someone shot him in the face! It’s hilarious!”
“What?”
But Bellamy can’t even focus on that. All he can focus is that Clarke’s standing in front of him, alive and well, and they aren’t going to war.
It’s almost seems unreal.
Placing his hand on the back of her head, Bellamy pulls her in close again, except this to kiss her. He brings him so close to him there’s no space, tangling his fingers in her hair as he explores her mouth without the hesitation of a goodbye. No, Bellamy kisses Clarke because he wants to and because for the first time, he isn’t afraid that tomorrow will be their last day. He kisses her because he loves her and she’s here and they’re both alive.
“Now there’s something I never thought I’d see.” Octavia says playfully behind them and Bellamy can’t help but grin into the kiss.
“Yeah, I was hoping I’d never have to go through it.” Murphy’s voice sounds. “Abby quick – how bad would it be for me to bleach my eyes?”
“…bad.”
“Shit.”
Except he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because he knows where everyone is. They all survived and around him.
They’re home.
***
It’d been two days since they’ve returned home. Once everyone returned to the village, Clarke thinks it hit them all at once. They’d been on the planet for two years, but she thinks in the back of everyone’s mind, they were simply waiting for war. Clarke’s departure marked a potential for things to be taken, and she often wonders if people – even subconsciously – they took that as a sign of future war.
Except when they return from Eligius – everyone weary from the trek – no one sets down their guns. Everyone stands in the center of the village and looks around. Everything looks the same. In fact, there are even some dishes left out from the quick evacuation.
But everything’s changed.
There’s a weird laugh from somewhere in the middle of the crew. Then another. Clarke startles when Madi laughs at her side, carefree and childlike. Then so does Shaw. Soon there’s a cheer and more laughter, and people start setting down their weapons and hugging. Reaching out, Clarke hugged Madi tighter than she remembers doing since the Flame, the child returning the gesture.
Of course, the two days were not filled with only delight.
Once the destruction of the Flame was revealed, they had another problem. Fortunately more people were against the Flame as a concept that Clarke realized – Eligius voicing being uncomfortable with a child ruler, as well as the original Skaikru. Then some of the grounders came out until Indra set her hand on an infuriated Gaia and stated, “It’s time to respect our past, but move our sights to the future.”
Which is why Clarke stands outside the Council cabin.
Madi’s nowhere near and that makes her lighter than she’s been for years. Knowing that she’s somewhere else – far away from tough decisions no child should ever have to make – fills her with a joy she can’t express. So she moves, her head up high, not deterred from the glares given to her by Gaia as she passes. Settling next to Bellamy who’s already there with Raven at his side, Clarke smiles.
They’re all here. Bellamy, Raven, Shaw, and Diyoza. Murphy is next to Emori and Echo, while Octavia and Miller remain close to Abby and Kane. Indra and Gaia stand together, Indra leaning in to whisper something to Gaia, whose expression relaxes.
“Well, we find ourselves in an interesting predicament.” Indra states when no one starts. “Fortunately, we’ve got some time to restructure, as they are figuring out that process as well.”
Kane folds his hands. “For its many faults, I’ve always been partial to the structure of the Ark.”
“Of course you have.” Murphy mutters.
Clarke hides a smirk and Bellamy shoots him a glare.
It doesn’t seem to bother him at all. “A council, as this one, with a leader. Not dissimilar to what we had with Madi, but one that is chosen through their experience as opposed to lineage.”
“Commanders were given knowledge that was passed down—”
“From a world that no longer exists.” Indra states. “We’re not having this conversation again, there’s nothing we can do. The Flame was always fragile and I think Clarke and Madi’s escape was more important than making sure it came back.”
Clarke doesn’t even flinch. Sure, she may have told Bellamy what happened in private, but there’s no way she’ll broadcast that the Flame met the business end of a steel toe boot.
She doesn’t regret it.
“How do we start?” Emori asks, Clarke grateful for her ability to stay on task.
“We don’t have time for a full election before we make our way back to Eligius.” Kane states. “We don’t have time for nominations or a traditional democratic process. So we’ll need an interim leader in the meantime.”
“Okay, okay,” Murphy states, waving his hands. “I’ll step up and fucking do it. Then I’ll make a rule saying I’m in charge forever.”
“That’s a dictatorship,” Diyoza says. “So no… and also no.”
“You can admit it if you’re scared.”
“Scared of you being in charge? Absolutely.”
Clarke can’t help but smile at that. She catches people looking at her – looking at Bellamy – as if they’re waiting for one or the other to volunteer.
She takes a moment to truly think of that and what it means. Being in charge again. She often thought about it – about how desperately she wanted the human race to survive. How she spent every second trying to make sure it did. And the fact is…
It did.
Glancing up at Bellamy, she smiles warmly at him and he returns it. There’s something behind his eyes that makes her realize he feels the same way. That he’s done with being in charge. As is she. “What about Indra?” Bellamy asks, turning.
Indra blinks. “I’m sorry?”
A grin stretches on his face. “What about Indra for interim leader?”
Clarke’s never seen Indra so startled before, she even trips over her words. “W-What? I don’t think that—”
“That’s a great idea.” Kane states. “You’ve served every Commander I’ve known. You know strategy, but you’re level-headed in crisis. I can’t think of anyone better for the job.”
“It is very flattering, but—”
“What’s your hesitation?” Bellamy asks. “Do you not want the role?”
Indra doesn’t respond right away. She glances around the room where everyone is staring. “Is this what you all want?” She asks carefully.
“I think it’s a great idea.” Clarke states. “I can’t think of anyone better.”
“I agree.” Octavia says. Clarke wasn’t sure she would say anything in her first council meeting after everything, but the amount of warmth aimed toward the woman is palpable in the cabin. “Wholeheartedly.”
“Me too.” Miller states. “It’s how it always should’ve been.”
Indra stares at everyone, then turns to Gaia. “And you?”
Gaia looks at her mother and the two share something Clarke understands. She understands the anger, defiance, love, confusion, and strength there. After a second, Gaia melts. “I would be honored to follow you.”
Indra crumbles, but for a second. Then she steels herself, faces the council, and says, “I accept.”
Clarke can’t help but beam at the woman, many people doing the same. “What do we do now?” Shaw asks.
Whatever the hell we want.
The phrase plays in her head startingly. It was such a long time ago, and she can’t help but glance up at the man who uttered it so many years ago. Before she can stop it, she snorts. Clasping her hand over her mouth, Clarke fails to not giggle. Once. Twice.
“What is going on?” Bellamy asks, looking down at her.
Then there’s a laugh across the table. Clarke peers up and sees Murphy with a shit-eating grin and she knows. A full laugh escapes her lips and Murphy joins her, two unable to stop any of it.
Miller nudges Octavia and the two poorly hide their laughs. “What is happening right now?” Kane asks and Abby merely shrugs.
Raven leans over to Octavia, who whispers something to Raven. Without hesitation, Raven bursts out laughing, not even trying to hide it. Bellamy frowns at everyone.
“It’s clearly something from the original 100.” Abby shrugs. “Some inside joke.”
Then Bellamy’s eyes light up and his face scrunches into a frown. “You have got to be kidding me!”
That’s when they all lose it. All five of them. Clarke can’t help herself, laughter is pouring out of here, like something was finally wedged loose after all these years. Murphy’s doubled over the council table while Raven nudges Bellamy in the ribs.
“I don’t know what’s happening here.” Indra says. “What are we doing, is this meeting over?”
“Whatever the hell we want.” A handful of them say in unison and Bellamy groans.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
But no one responds. Instead they laugh, really laugh, like the world didn’t end. Like they hadn’t lost all their friends. Like they hadn’t been sent as guinea pigs to die.
For the first time, they laugh like the children they never got to be.
***
When Bellamy enters their cabin in the evening, it’s quiet and filled with candles. His back ache, but in a good way. In a way tat reminds him that he’s alive and that he no longer has to fight. The weight of leadership and death have rolled off his shoulders and he steps in, eyes adjusting.
He isn’t sure what he’s about to walk into, but he wasn’t ready to find Clarke on the ground, surrounded by papers and candles, furiously sketching. “Hey,” he says softly, not wanting to startle her.
Clarke turns and looks up, smiling at him, her eyes warm in the candlelight. “Hey,” she responds.
It still takes his breath away, that smile. It was so rare for so long, but he can see the darkness lift from behind her eyes. How all the pain that they shared is leaving both of them and yet still they stand. “What are you doing?” He asks.
He’s surrounded by faces he never thought he’d see again. Looking at them is sharp and painful, but beautiful. Bellamy supposes that’s the world they get to live in, and reaches down to grab one. “I had an idea.” Clarke states, chewing the end of the pencil. “An idea that I wanted to run past you.”
“Yeah?”
Clarke nods. “A discussion for another night, though.” She states, standing up and facing him.
She reaches out and pulls him close, placing her head on his chest. Bellamy’s been startled at how much she reaches for him, but it occurs to him that perhaps she’s suffering in the same way he always had. They’ve had too much loss for two people, and they cling to those who are here.
Reaching up for him, she places her hand on the back of his neck and pulls him closer to her. He braces himself on the bed behind them and leans down over her until she brings him with her.
That’s the thing about binary suns. They revolve and revolve, never touching.
Because if they did? If they finally collided?
They would change the universe.
***
“Jordan! Come here!” Madi cries, waving her hands. Jordan jumps from where he was sitting and rushes over. “You have got to see this.”
Clarke smiles when the two start talking excitedly as she points at a plant that illuminates in the dark. Jordan starts chattering endlessly about it, Madi laughing at him. Bellamy must catch her watching, because he comes over and places an arm around her shoulder. “What’s that face?”
“I’m just… so glad she has an older-brother like figure now.” Clarke says, unable to stop smiling at the two. “Now that she’s no longer a Commander, she can be a kid. And from what I’ve seen, older brothers are what every sister needs.”
Bellamy ducks his head in the way he usually does when someone gives him a compliment. “They’re alright.” Leaning in for a quick kiss, Bellamy unravels and approaches the front. “Alright, everyone listen up!”
Everyone in the area looks up from where they are. There are a few fires scattered here and there, figures huddled by them. But it’s everyone Clarke knows and loves. She moves over to where Raven and Shaw are, Miller and Octavia sobering their laughter to face Bellamy. Even Murphy stops what he’s doing and glances to where Bellamy stands before the newest structure in the village.
It took a while for them to figure it out.
Between Raven and Shaw, it’s all they’ve been working on, despite Indra saying they’ll have to go back to defense measures someday. But she understood why they needed to do this.
Behind Bellamy sits a massive greenhouse, the small plants barely visible through the glass. Above the door is a sign, painted by Clarke only a few days ago:
Monty Green-house
Bellamy reaches into his jacket and pulls out a mason jar. “Firstly, I would like to thank Murphy for taking over the job of making moonshine. Monty bequeathed him the recipe in one of the tapes, and I’m sure you will make him proud.”
Murphy makes a face. “Don’t make it weird.”
Bellamy laughs, free. It’s almost dazzling, seeing him like this. Smiling and warm and light. Clarke leans closer to Raven and places a head on her shoulder, the woman holding her in return.
“Monty left us with a legacy.” Bellamy says, his tone growing serious. “He told us that we had to be better. To be the good guys. He gave us this planet as his dying task and it’s up to us to uphold the legacy he’s made.” Turning to face the greenhouse, Bellamy lifts up the moonshine. “He always said green was good.”
Clarke can’t help but laugh, her eyes watering. The ache and loss is present, but it’s now manageable. Because Bellamy is there, Raven’s at her side, and she’s surrounded by people she loves.
“Monty always challenged us to be kinder. Better. And so, we christen this greenhouse in your name. They used to christen ships before they went to sea. To weather the dark storms. To prepare before what comes next. But voyages don’t have to be war. Exploration doesn’t have to contain violence. And moving forward can mean moving up.”
Bellamy takes the mason jar of moonshine and slams it against the greenhouse, the glass shattering and dripping onto the ground.
“Fuck yeah!” Murphy cries.
Everyone joins, shouting and laughing and crying. Or doing all three.
Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, allowing a few tears to roll down her cheeks. Raven reaches out and squeezes her shoulders, laughing as she does so. Jumping down from where he stands, Bellamy offers Murphy a hand, who takes it. And then in a quick move, Murphy pulls him in for a hug, breaking it off as quickly as he made it. Reaching to his side, Murphy hands Bellamy something and the man smiles at him warmly.
When Bellamy strides over to where Clarke is, she sees the jars of moonshine. “You know,” Bellamy says playfully. “I think you actually still owe me a drink.”
Clarke takes one of the jars and says, “Do I now?”
“And I have it on good authority that you can hold your liquor.”
Clarke makes a face at Murphy behind him, who merely flicks his fingers and grins. “Do you now?”
Bellamy reaches out. “Wanna test that theory?”
“Bellamy Blake, are you trying to goad me?” Clarke asks.
“Only if it’s working.”
Clarke screws off the lid of the jar and takes a swig.
“Brave Princess,” Bellamy says quietly, pulling her closer.
Clarke can’t help but lean into him slightly. “You are as insufferable as the day I met you.”
He leans closer, smiling. “What’s wrong with a little chaos?”
Clarke can’t help but feel her chest warm. It’d been so cold for such a long time. So quiet around her. And yet, she hears Madi’s laughter alongside Jordan’s as they explore the world. Feels Raven close by, sees Murphy making faces. Everyone is simply so close, and she can’t help but feel herself relax.
For the first time, not only does she not feel alone.
She isn’t.
***
That isn’t to say the nightmares disappear.
The panic attacks erase.
The pain dissipates.
Clarke wears it every day, as she would put on a shirt or put up her hair. It’s as real as the scars on her back and the aches in her shoulder when the weather is colder. The only difference is she feels the weight and love of those around her and is able to remind herself that she’s no longer alone. She’s no longer afraid to look into Bellamy’s eyes and see the warmth gone. That this all a dream.
Even so, every once and a while, when the panic is too high and the logic is out of her grasp and Clarke shudders, Bellamy knows and is there. He holds her hands and runs them down his face. Grabs her and holds tight until she can catch her breath. Stays in bed long past the rise of the suns.
It’s a Thursday when it happens.
It’s appropriately grey outside, the clouds covering the suns. Negotiations with Eligius are in a few days and a semblance of normalcy is found in the village. Indra quickly becomes a respected leader, the original Eligius crew even following her without question in a way they would’ve never done with Madi. The promise of peace truly feels prevalent around them and everyone is able to breathe.
Able to mourn.
“You okay?”
Bellamy’s voice sounds behind her, his hand reaching out to run along her shoulder. His thumb runs along her skin, still bare, as she stares at the shirt she’s laid out for herself. Clarke shivers at his touch, then leans into it. “Yeah,” she states, grabbing it off of the bed and throwing it over her head. “Are you?”
Bellamy reaches out to her cheek and gives her a quick kiss. “Yes.” He says. “As strange as that sounds, yes. This is a good idea. I think we all need it.”
“I agree.” Clarke states. “For the first time, I feel like we’re on the right track. And we’re all together.”
“We’ve said it enough, it’s about time to make it true.” Bellamy smiles, leaning in for kiss.
It’s quick, yet comforting. Like something they’ll do every day for the rest of their lives. For the first time, it occurs to her that it’s probably true. And not for a day or a week. For longer, something more constant.
Permanent.
“Let’s go.” Clarke says, breaking of the kiss.
Bellamy groans playfully, even though he’s willing to be led out.
Before they leave, Clarke grabs a stack of papers on the table and the two step out of the cabin. Everyone’s already there – and a few people she didn’t expect – waiting in a group as they pass. Even though they smile, everyone’s a bit somber. Stoic. Clarke smiles at them, hides the papers in her jacket, and leads the way.
She walks through the forest as she had so many times by herself. She would travel this land, hoping the woods and air would bring her the peace she couldn’t find on earth. It never did. Instead, she was forced to let it feed into her isolation, feeling dark and bigger than anything she expected.
But now?
People follow behind her, taking care of the path she set. Stepping over a fallen tree, Clarke waves. “It’s just over here.”
Clarke stops when she reaches the edge of the water line, a sea stretching further out than she can see. “Woah,” someone breathes behind her and everyone approaches it carefully.
“You found this?” Bellamy breathes, eyes on the horizon. Wind whips his hair in his face and there’s something beautiful about it that takes her breath away.
“You guys really didn’t explore at all, did you?” Clarke asks, smiling at him, but it falters.
Raven and Shaw set wooden boxes down, filled with candles. People start to light them, the flames flickering on the dark wood. Pulling the sketches out of her jacket, Clarke looks at the first face.
Her father.
She hands it to her mom, who hesitates before it. Then Wells. Jaha. Gina. Jasper. Monty. Harper. Lexa. Lincoln.
Face after face is placed in the box. Even faces she didn’t know. Diyoza’s father, who the woman told Clarke about over drinks one night, describing every detail of his face with tears in her eyes. Indra’s husband, lost in a war before Clarke ever set foot on the earth.
Clarke picks up a few boxes and steps out to the sea. Setting them down into the waves, she watches as the light from the fire flickers off their faces.
They all fought for it. They were the price. The price too high and too painful. But the price nonetheless.
The price of peace.
Clarke stands with the water up to her thigh, Bellamy joining her. Raven and Murphy and Miller and Octavia. Everyone.
Clearing her throat, Clarke says, “In peace may you leave this shore.”
“In love may you find the next.” Bellamy continues, his words catching.
Raven blinks a few tears. “Safe passage on your travels.”
“Until our final journey to the ground.” Murphy recites.
Octavia squeezes Miller’s hand. “May we meet again.”
Clarke, and others, murmur, “May we meet again.”
Others say their own words. Clarke hears Shaw give a prayer, Indra whisper words in Trig.
It’s an outpour of love in many ways, and a goodbye in one.
Reaching out, Bellamy grabs Clarke’s hand as they watch the boxes with their loved ones drift away, still able to see the lights on the water. The two face the people they love, mourning in ways they were never given on the ground.
“Still okay?” Bellamy asks, his words rough.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah. I’m home.” He states, leaning closer. “We’re home.”
Clarke knows there’s always chance for something else. More war, more violence. Lives lost that should’ve never been given.
But perhaps the universe is done with them. They’ve paid their debts. They've paid their price.
As the two look out on the horizon, surrounded by everyone they love, watching those lost to them drift away, Clarke thinks Bellamy may be right.
They’re home.