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“We’re here now. Everything’s going to be ok.” Kane says as if that should mean something to them, the parody of a concerned parent.
Well fuck that. Bellamy thinks. It might mean something to Sterling, but Monroe and Bellamy raised themselves with crappy parents and worse lives, and if the eye roll Saint Finn just threw in is anything to go by he’s the same.
There’s a reason the 100 survived as well as they did and it’s got nothing to do with the Ark.
Abby Griffin is like a sucker punch to the gut, taking one look at him and Finn and trying to treat them and he’s suddenly grateful that she and Clarke don’t look alike when he tells her he doesn’t know if her daughter is alive.
Bellamy wants to protest when they separate them, take Monroe and Sterling with the group headed back to camp but Monroe catches his eye and shakes her head around the guard who’s shadow she’s been assigned to.
Monroe’s scary good with her machete and the adults haven’t tried to take it away from her yet. (They will eventually, Bellamy knows, because there’s not a single adult who understands what the ground is and he can’t see these assholes letting a fifteen year old run around with a weapon. He’s gotten used to being the oldest, being the leader but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten how the Ark was run, how you had to bite your tongue and swallow your pride and obey every order. Clarke didn't understand that not even after a year long stint in the Skybox. There’s a reason they called her Princess. Call her Princess. Clarke’s not dead. His people will be putting the camp back together and he’ll bring her mother and Lincoln will bring Octavia back and then they can sort out what happens next. Together.) Monroe can look out for Sterling until they get the 100 back together.
Raven can’t feel her legs but somehow that’s less disturbing then absolute quiet of the drop ship. Raven Reyes is a spacer, silence means somethings gone wrong, a piece of their hundred year old ship failing. Even in zero-g clipped to the outside of the Ark she had the crackle of a radio to keep her from the stars.
The camp is dead quiet so she pulls herself to a gun, uncaring of her legs.
Something’s gone terribly wrong.
There’s a half-second after Kane orders them to move out when he and Spacewalker side eye each other with a moment of complete agreement of why the hell are we still unarmed? But they can’t pick this fight, not now, not when they are so close to making it home. So Bellamy leads the way, Spacewalker falling in line for the first time since they touched dirt.
It takes them two hours to hike back to camp and about ten minutes out he and Finn start looking for the signs of their people. Clarke should have people in the foxholes, and even if she missed that Miller would have posted lookouts. They’re close enough now that sound from the camp should be filtering in, because fuck knows the 100 doesn’t how to be quiet even it would save their lives. He has to tell Kane that something’s wrong even though he knows Kane’s going to try to leave them behind. (Bellamy thinks about sprinting for the camp shouting for Clarke, Miller, Raven. He thinks about slipping the adults and running for the drop ship, for home. He thinks that there might not be much left to call home.)
When he tells the group something’s wrong, they get left.
Bellamy hates being right.
Murphy watched the world light up from a safe distance, the Grounder brute guarding him getting more and more nervous as the night passed and his people didn’t come back. He’d dozed eventually, woke to the Grounder kicking him awake. The sun was rising when they left the empty Grounder camp and headed for the 100’s camp. He’d been left outside, hands looped over a jutting piece of wood from the gate and the gunshot is shockingly loud in the morning. It’s too quiet here.
He stumbles in and yeah, he would have taken that shot too. (He’s not certain how he got here but there’s a sob story and too much power in too little time. He’s just seventeen.) So he lets Raven bitch at him, tries to help even when she tries to push him away. He only knows a couple of things, instructions Clarke had murmured through her fever. He’s trying. But Raven’s dying faster than him and it looks like he’ll die alone after all.
Murphy doesn’t want to die alone. (Murphy doesn’t want to die.)
The last time Bellamy saw Murphy he had a noose around his neck so forgive him if the sheer unfairness of that bastard being here and alive when the rest of his people are gone is too much. He should have known better. Kane’s itching for a chance for take him down a few notches never mind his Chancellor issued pardon.
(The line you’re still alive? as if he thought everybody was dead and gone only made it easier to fall on him.)
Murphy didn’t even try to fight him off. The guards pull him off and Bellamy could learn to hate Kane as he says you are no longer in charge here. When he says you are not animals.
Bellamy’s had a lifetime of powerlessness, and a brief glorious reign, to have that stripped away with his people at the same time- well fuck that. He settles for glaring daggers at Murphy.
Bellamy Blake forgets sometimes that leading started as a way to get away with murder.
Abby spends the hour between the fight and Kane telling them to move out stabilizing Raven but there's not much she can do for a girl with a bullet in her spine and Finn makes a good nurse. (He served as a nurse for Clarke, he does not say. He gathered those plants for her, he does not say, and Abby's wrecking Clarke's organizational system stealing plants from the cabinet and overturning drawers that Clarke and her helpers had gathered and cataloged and dried and filled carefully. You didn't give us anything, Finn does not say, so we adapted.) He points out the plants Clarke has been using and only stumbles over her daughters name once.
Once Raven is stabilized, she finds the sharpest rock she can and starts carving.
Abby Griffin will see her daughter again.
Bellamy watches Clarke's mother carve a message for her into metal with a rock, scraping her fingers bloody and tearing up her hands to say come home. Coward, he thinks, traitor, and is uncertain if he means himself or the doctor. If they'd let him free, he be halfway to the grounders camp by now.
If they'd let him free he'd bring Clarke and his people home.
The march is harder than it needs to be with his hands tied behind his back and the guards shoving him. They're not treating him carefully and after the third time he's tripped by one of the guards, Clarke's mother helps him up and stays at his side, looping one of her arms through his and guiding him. He resists the urge to snarl at her.
When they break for water, she washes the dried blood from his face and ignores his torn up knuckles. She works around his hands studiously ignoring the scrapes and bruises. Then she asks about Clarke.
He tells her to fuck off.
The 100 can save themselves.