The working title of this story was "communal baby fic," because I do believe that if/when the hundred have children, that they will take the "it takes a village to raise a child" approach. I think that everyone in their community would be very invested in the children, and I wanted to write about that.
Set an undetermined number of years in the future, and assumes that all of the main cast survives that long. ;)
Title is from "Blueberry Girl" by Neil Gaiman.
finn
The boy is two years old, and constantly on the move, from the moment he wakes up until he falls asleep at night. Someday, when he's older, you'll take him beyond the walls of your carefully guarded community, and he'll help you explore the world that you're rebuilding for him. For now, the camp is his everything, and he wants to see all of it.
You find joy in his discoveries. Every new sight and sound fascinates him, each new experience is an amazing adventure. You keep him safe, and you keep him close, his tiny fingers wrapped tight around yours.
jasper
Clarke said, "Here, I need you to hold him," one day when the baby was a few months old. You'd avoided him, up to that point, because you were terrified - so many things could go wrong, and he was so small.
You got over it, eventually. You're glad that you did. That little boy is the best thing that ever happened on this planet, probably. Something about him makes everything better, fixes all the broken parts inside of you. The way you see it, maybe the world isn't such a bad place after all, as long as he's in it.
raven
You watch Clarke with her son and you think of your own mother, you wonder what piece she was missing, that she couldn't love you like that, that she couldn't put you first, she couldn't even make time for you. You'll never understand her disinterest - the boy's not even yours but your love for him is fierce. You'll play silly games for hours, you tell him bedtime stories. You spoil him rotten - everyone does.
He's lucky, to have so many people who care about him. In a world that's so uncertain, you're glad that's something he can take for granted.
bellamy
Octavia was a quiet baby. You think she knew the stakes, somehow, knew that she was a secret, that she couldn't cause trouble, or else. Clarke's boy is anything but quiet, always laughing and chattering. He's the opposite of hidden - everywhere you turn, there he is.
You all look out for each other, but it's your responsibility to protect the camp, and protect your people - especially the little ones, especially Clarke's little one. He takes a lot of looking after, he's adventurous and curious and he gets into absolutely everything, but he makes you smile, so you don't mind.
monty
You give him piggyback rides through the fields - he's so small the stalks would swallow him up otherwise. He's Clarke's son through and through, always eager to help. He clutches seeds in his tiny palms, sprinkling them over the soil just the way you show him, even though he's too young to really understand their potential. He is amazed by green and growing things. He drops berries into baskets and only most of them end up in his mouth.
It is satisfying, you think, to pass on the knowledge that your parents gave to you, to cultivate, and to teach.
octavia
You were sixteen, the first time you saw something beautiful, a glimpse of the Earth through the window. He likes color and light, and you like to hear him laugh, so you bring him flowers, you show him rocks that glitter and pretty seashells.
You grew up under the floorboards, you grew up terrified of what would happen if anyone ever found you. Clarke's son, and the other children in the camp - they're growing up in a place that's more dangerous, and less predictable, but at least they can feel safe, at least they're in a world that wants them.
clarke
He's not the only child in your camp, or even the first born to your ragtag group of survivors, but he is the first to survive two winters. You've learned that life is fragile, and precious. You've learned that terrible things can happen, will happen, and that you have to guard the the ones that bring light to this dark world, the way he does. You've learned that you have to share him.
You don't mind. You may be his mother, but he belongs to everyone. He reminds them why you're doing all of this, why you have to work to leave your children a better life than the one you inherited. He reminds them that there is good in the world, and hope for the future.
You wish you never had to leave, but there are alliances to maintain, and supplies to gather, so sometimes you find you find yourself away from home. It's comforting to know that no matter how far you travel, your son is safe, and happy. You feel at ease knowing that any member of your community would do anything in their power to keep him from harm, that they all feel the same protectiveness that swelled in your chest from the first moment you held him. You would die for him, your bright-eyed, beautiful boy, and so would any of your friends.
When your long journeys finally bring you home, he's there waiting. You scoop him up in your arms and feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, his head tucked under your chin. His warm weight is enough to chase away every bad thought, every anxiety and fear. You love him so much it hurts, sometimes, and you can only ever leave him behind because you know everyone else feels the same.
Please note - I purposefully did not name the father because I do not want this to be a shipping thing. I want the point to be "the baby matters to everyone," not, "my pairing got together, yay!" I almost didn't name the mother, either, but then I started writing it and Clarke was everywhere and I like how it turned out so whatever. The characters all know who the father is, but that was not important to this story.
Fun fact: kid fic is probably my favorite type of fanfiction, after hurt/comfort. This story slots in nicely with a very extensive, five-years-worth-of-story kidfic that I will most likely never write, but who knows. It is tempting. ;)
Thank you for reading! :D
