A/N: The story is just flying out of me! This is a pretty long chapter, as well. I've written up a pretty basic outline for the next seven chapters, so hopefully I'll be better about actually updating. I'm pretty terrible, to be honest, so I hope this one is different!

I also want to give a huge thanks to those of you that reviewed Chapter 1. Reviews are a HUGE motivator, as most of you know! Hearing that you're enjoying my story, and are excited for me makes me want to sit down and give you more!

So, truly, thank you to:

Dark-Supernatural-Angel: I'm going to say Clarke is 23 now, and Bellamy is 27, if that fits with the ages we've been given! Thanks for the encouragement!

bellarke: I'm so glad you read the wiki page I linked! Check out another link about Hyperinflation in the A/N note at the end.

lola: Thanks so much for your encouragement!

Zombiedoughnut: I freaking love your username. Jesus, it's brilliant. And thanks for the encouragement

lucawindmover: I love detailed reviews the most, and yours is very detailed! Thanks so much for your kind words and I hope you enjoy Chapter 2 just as much as Chapter 1!

I'm going to be a few little notes, we'll call them "footnotes", at the end of the story to explain a few things. They won't be things that will make or break your enjoyment of the story, just a few more explanations for those who, like me, need everything to make logical and chronological sense. I'll be adding these to all the chapters that I feel need them. There is honestly no super important need to read them.

Either way, enjoy Chapter 2!


Catastrophe Theory

Chapter 2

6 Months Later:

Tomorrow was day they were going to announce the Incentive Plan.

Five months ago, with the help of the Representatives, a few of the members of their little town (which had at some point become to be called Haven), Bellamy and Clarke had devised a currency system. People could not trade food, furs, blankets, basic clothing, housing or guns for "circuits". People would be given four chances to use their new currency properly (no selling or buying of Essentials with circuits); first strike would be a week on latrine duty (which had come to be the punishment for breaking minor laws set up by the two Senator's), then a month, then a year, and if a person was to be found trading essentials as listed for circuits they would be banished for the "foreseeable future".

When Clarke and Bellamy first came to the Senator seats, they agreed that life was too unstable to dish out punishments with the words "forever". So, in the laws they wrote up and gave out to their citizens, all crimes with long lasting punishments with the exception of rape, murder, and child abuse of any kind would be reviewed on the last day of the year after they were given out, and every year after that. This way people showing significant improvement in behavior, remorse or had accomplished something that deserved a pardon would be afforded the opportunity. So far this seemed to be an effect way of doing things.

Circuits could be traded for anything, and everything else. If the occupants of a cabin wanted a window to be cut into their cabin, they could pay the builder in circuits. The builder could then go and take his circuits to the woman who went out to pick wildflowers, and he could give her so many circuits for so many flowers which would then be given to his daughter for her birthday. The flower lady would then take her circuits and buy a better pair of shears from the Collectors so she could better cut and preserve the flowers she collected. And on it went.

Bellamy and Clarke both knew it was not perfect. They knew it would cause many problems down the line, but people needed some kind of money. Being able to afford more of the things you wanted was a powerful motivator, they both found, and even if made them feel a little guilty for going through all this just to manipulate their people into doing what they wanted, they both knew it was for the best, for the present and the future.

After five months, a value seemed to have been added to the circuits and balanced out. A bundle of flowers sold for 2 circuits, which would also buy a bottle of Monty's highly improved moonshine. An extension added to a house would cost a person close to 200 circuits, depending on the size and shape of said extension. New things that people were willing to charge, and pay, circuits for cropped up nearly every day, which meant that even now five months later, Clarke and Bellamy were constantly approved and denying things that could be traded.

At first, the Senators gave every citizen of Haven 20 circuits, and had planned on that being the only circuits in circulation until the incentive scheme went ahead. But then, people stopped doing their jobs that before had been part of maintaining and improving the community in lieu of scavenging for things they could trade for circuits. As this proved incredibly problematic, Bellamy and Clarke, through another all-night session, devised a way around this.

On the Arc, those unable to work, for any reason, were not given rations, and therefore often lost out on food, better housing and other essentials. Neither Clarke nor Bellamy were willing to inflict this kind of life on their people, and therefore began paying people monthly amounts in circuits, based on the hours worked. Everyone, no matter their job, were given 1 circuit per hour of work around the camp, which gave them need to define what "work" was, because many people seemed to think things like "scouting" qualified as work. When the dust had settled a bit from that debacle, it seemed to be more or less successful. Of course, this did not dissuade the most persistent of people who were convinced they could find something worth thousands of circuits if only they searched hard enough, but it did help.

Most of the kinks of the circuit system were worked out now, and the Representatives had called Assembly no less than four times that week to remind their Senators about the original reason the circuits had been brought into play.

So, Bellamy and Clarke scheduled a town meeting, set in the "town square" for the following Tuesday.


It was now Monday night, and Bellamy and Clarke were sitting in their little common room, sipping at some of Octavia's tea, which they had purchased a bag of for seven circuits. Clarke was feeling smug, more than a little proud of herself, and couldn't hold back the grin.

"What is the face for, Princess?"

Clarke couldn't contain the giggle. "We did it Bell. I mean, we totally devised a currency, and made it work without completely ostracizing our people, or creating an impenetrable class system."

He gave her an odd look. "Miller and his guards picked up someone trying to sell mushrooms the other day for a few circuits."

She sighed, "Was it his first offence?" At Bellamy's quick nod she added, "Well, it was never going to be perfect. People don't change that much, Bellamy."

He smiled as he looked at her and took another sip from his steaming mug. "Are you saying that we haven't changed?"

Startled she looked up at her friend, the man who had become her best friend. "Of course not! If we hadn't changed at all, we would have killed each other years ago! Christ, I hated you back then."

Bellamy let out a surprised laugh, which set Clarke off. They succumbed to their laughter, holding their sides. Clarke fell out of her chair at one point and Bellamy tried to catch her, but instead toppled down on top of her, which only set the two of them off again. They laughed and laughed, unable to hold in their joy at just how well things were going, not only with their partnership but with their town, their people.

Finally, with Bellamy propping himself over Clarke to avoid crushing her, they were able to catch their breath and control themselves. Bellamy smirked down at Clarke, who rolled her eyes. "You know, sugar, I've got you in a pretty compromising situation here. What would you do if someone walked in?"

She shoved him off, not in least bit fazed. She grumbled about stupid hormonal boys, but there was no feeling behind the words. She stretched out on the floor of their common room. It was actually kind of comfortable, and it was just turning to autumn, so it was warm enough to relax here. Clarke felt her eyes slide gently closed, content to just relax after a long day.

Bellamy instinctively knew when Clarke was asleep. He could've chalked it up to the change in her breathing, or the fact she'd actually shut up for one damn minute. He just… knew. He smiled to himself, and laid down with her, pulling her warm body into his. They had no blankets, pillows, and were literally sleeping on wood planks, but they both woke up feeling more rested than they had in months.


Bellamy cleared his throat. Just like Clarke had the unspoken duty of talking during Assembly with the Representatives, Bellamy addressed their people most often during town meetings. This time was no different.

"Havenites! We have something to tell you."

He glanced over at Clarke, and she gave him the smallest of encouraging smiles.

"It has been brought to our attention that you people are screwing like animals."

Clarke heard a gasp, before the roar of laughter went through the crowd, and knew it was Dr. Abby Griffin. She and the Representatives had given a script to Bellamy and Clarke and told them to use it as they believed it would elicit the best response from the general populace. Bellamy and Clarke had changed a few things then and there with them, and then once on their own, they had great fun throwing the carefully prepared paper into the fire and drafting one much more to their own style, and much more likely to stop rioting.

Once the peals had died down, Bellamy continued. "And while I'm all for it," more laughter, "our esteemed Representatives tell me that too many kids don't have dads." The laughter quickly guttered out.

"As all of you know, I myself was a kid without a dad. It's not right. Too many people are seeing the fact that they have multiple partners, or that their partner has multiple partners, as an excuse to step away from the kid that is born because of those multiple partners." As low murmurings of dissent began in the crowd, Bellamy raised a hand. "Clarke and I tried not to promise you many things when you elected us, did we?"

He paused, and waited for the crowd to agree with him. Clarke marveled at his natural ability to keep a crowd engaged, listening to his every word, and agreeing with him all at the same time.

"But one of the promises we did make, one of the things you all know we are incredibly passionate about is this: We will never force you to love only one person. That is a promise we will keep."

He paused again, and looked at as many faces as he could find, and finally turned to look at Clarke, again seeking her support. This time she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. When he turned back to his people, her hand was still in his, firm and comforting.

"That is the reason we will not be implementing any fidelity or childbirth laws. However, we will be bringing about an incentive system. For every two months that you've only had one sexual partner, or none, you shall receive 80 circuits. This will be available to everyone from the age of fourteen and older!" Bellamy's voice rose as the crowd suddenly burst into whispers.

"And just in case any of you tossers think you can pull one over on us, think again! We will be checking your stories against everyone else's and let's be honest, guys, none of you are very discrete." A bit of a chuckle went through the crowd. Men elbowed their friends and women flushed crimson.

"If you are found to be lying to us, even if it is after you have received the money, you will not be permitted to participate for 1 year, that's 12 months, from the time you were found to be lying. Think about it, you guys, that's 480 circuits you'd be giving up a year, and for what?"

Another, louder, round of whispers went through the crowd. And then a voice called, "But I don' wan' be with the same broad fo' the rest of me life!" Laughter rippled around Bellamy and he grinned.

"Who does, my friend? We don't need you to be with the same person for ever, just for two months. And there is no penalty for collecting one month and then not collecting the next. All we," he raised his and Clarke's joined hands "want from this is children who can say, "My parents acknowledge me."

He stopped and once again scanned the faces of the crowd, of his people. "Who doesn't know who your father was? Or your mother?"

After a moment, hands began raising until nearly a third of the people had a hand in the air.

"So many of you are the ones you need this program the most! You're off into a different someone's bed every night! Do you really want to be the one who followed in their own dead-beat parent's footsteps?"

A few people began to mutter louder, almost as if they had something to contradict their Senator.

"Listen, we're not forcing anyone to do anything. We're just saying if you're so inclined, try sticking it out with one person, just for two months, and see how it goes. And if you do, we'll give you 200 cees."

It was an obvious end to the announcement and people began filing away, off back to their jobs, their friends, their lives. Not everyone, mind. Many came up to find Clarke and Bellamy who stood on the makeshift stage, who answered questions, soothed concerns, and in general acted as Haven's leaders.


It was nearly two hours later before they were able to lock themselves into the White House. They'd been accosted several times on their way back, by friends of theirs, Octavia and Lincoln, even Clark's mother. That was the worst.

When they finally got into their small common room, Clarke stood by the roaring fire pit, barely able to keep herself from shaking. She never coped well around her mother anymore, not since what Clarke thought of as her last straw, the execution of a fifteen year old boy for leaving his tent after curfew.

After the battle with Mount Weather, the colonists decided they needed to get away, and did so. They moved nearly 50 miles to the East, landing in a patch of land that they believed unclaimed, and rather close to the ocean. Clarke and Bellamy had agreed to defer to Dr. Griffin, the new Chancellor, Counsellor Kane and ex-Chancellor Jaha. They soon realized, though, that they were being used as hand-holders for their people, always being told to reassure the general populace that things really were going to get better. They didn't, and it turned into one of the most horrific years of Clarke's experience. Clarke didn't realize how awful everything really was until the morning she woke to find young Pepper, who'd just celebrated his fifteenth birthday, chained to one of the walls of the camp, being read his crime. And then, under orders of her mother, the woman who had given birth to her, sang to her, rocked her to sleep, three guards fired a clip each of bullets into the young man's chest.

That wasn't the turning point for just Clarke, but for all of the citizens of the not yet named town. Mutiny ensued and it took all of Bellamy and Clarke's reassurances, pleadings and downright lies to save Dr. Griffin and the rest of her Arcadian cronies from the same fate.

Clarke had truly never forgiven her mother for what she did to her father, and she would never forgive her for how power-crazy she became that she began murdering young children. So now when they talked, they fought.

This fight had started out the same as all the others:

"Clarke, why don't you listen to me?"

"I listen, Dr. Griffin, I just don't live and breathe your every word. Not anymore. And I would appreciate if you would not address me so informally." Every time Clarke asked Abby to call her Senator Griffin, or Madam Senator, she knew it pushed Abby's buttons, but she did it anyway. It was like an addiction, how she couldn't help but piss off her mother.

"But this time, Madam Senator, there was a reason we had prepared the statement for Bellamy! We needed this announcement to go off without –"

"No, Mother. You listen to me! I'm sick and tired of you treating our people like idiots, like they need to be controlled and blackmailed and coerced into doing what is clearly best for them!"

Clarke glanced around, hoping for moral support from her Co-Senator, but he was off nearly twenty feet away, flirting with one of the many women that followed around in hopes of catching his eye. Normally, she'd roll her eyes in disgust (while secretly cheering him on) but now all she could feel was the drop of her stomach as she knew he'd be no help here.

When she turned back to her mother, and saw her draw in a deep breath and begin systematically, and extremely condescendingly, tearing Clarke apart for every small thing she or Bellamy and even just random people within their town had done that wasn't up to Dr. Griffin's standards, Clarke knew this was going to end horribly. She could feel the hopeless rage begin to build up in her chest, something that was normally quelled by a firm hand on the shoulder or elbow from Bellamy, or a quickly fabricated emergency from Jasper or Octavia. That wasn't going to happen this time.

It was all too much, the pressure to make the right decisions, the expectations to be the perfect leader, the need to be strong all the time because no one else could. And her mother, the one person that should support and love Clarke no matter what, who should think she walked on gold-plated rose petals, and everything she said and did was God's fucking word. Instead, the woman was reminding Clarke of every failure she'd had in the last four years, and in great detail, telling her daughter why she wasn't right, about anything. And so her daughter snapped.

"Get the fuck out of my face!" She shoved the older woman back. "I don't care what you think. You've been proved wrong time and time again and here you still are, unable to accept that not everything you think is the best option! You are nothing more than a murderer." Clarke breathed deep. "Actually you're worse. You make guards do your dirty work, and just speak the words that condemn fifteen year olds and your own husband to die. GET OUT OF MY FUCKING LIFE!"

Abby's face pinched in rage. "How long are you going to hold that against me, Clarke? It's been six years since your father died! You're just like him, entirely too trusting, convinced everyone needs to know everything that's going on when that kind of knowledge will only hurt people!"

Clarke took a step toward Dr. Griffin. "Why do you think that's an insult, mother? At least I'm not like you." She spat the last word, as if to expel venom from her mouth.

The shouting had drawn the attention of what few people happened to be around. Clarke internally smacked herself. This is why it was so important she didn't lose her cool around Abby. Bellamy was seen as the hothead, and the rebel, and often gained brownie points for going head to head with some of the older members of their community. Clarke, however, was the calm one, the peacemaker, and she was needed to liaise between the more traditional Representatives and their (albeit small) group of followers and the rest of her people.

People knew Clarke and her mother didn't get along. Everyone knew that, but Clarke didn't like it to be fresh in people's knowledge, and she didn't want whispers to start about dissent and indecision and all the rest. Things that would surely come of this most recent row.

Bellamy was at her arm in an instant, having ditched the girl with a slight nod of the head, turning Clarke towards their house. He'd said something to Dr. Griffin, and a distant part of her hoped it was better than "Fuck off." Just as they were closing the door, she heard Abby call, "I'll always be your mother, Clarke. Remember that!"

Bellamy led Clarke into the small common room, and went about preparing some of O's tea. As an afterthought he went back outside and flipped the sign that said, "Welcome to the White House", to the side that said, "Emergencies Only!"

It was really a genius idea, Raven's actually. People would (and still did) come to Bellamy and Clarke for every minor or major problem. A couple are having a domestic, their neighbor asks Clarke to stop it. Someone's trinket has gone missing and their ask Bellamy to put out the word. They were glad to help, almost always, but these people came to them no matter the situation, at all times. So for one of their birthday's Raven gave them a sign that could be flipped around at need, and when they just needed rest, or space, or just wanted one meal without someone asking for something or another they flipped the sign.

And if anyone disturbed them while the sign was up for anything other than, "imminent war, the Black Plague, or a god-damn tsunami", as Bellamy had exclaimed the first time someone had ignored Raven's gift, he would make sure they felt his wrath.


Clarke was shaking, he saw, when he got back inside. Not because she was cold or crying, he believed. Just incredibly unhinged at how the dispute with her mother had gone.

He knew Clarke as well as he knew anyone, at times he believed he knew Clarke better than he knew his little sister. Octavia had been around for most of his memory, but he and Clarke had gone through hell and lived to tell the tale. And they'd done it together. That changes how people interact, how they react to one another.

So he did what he knew she needed.

"Princess, come get your damn food, it's been here for at least an hour and is probably ice cold."

She didn't say anything. Shit, he thought, fucking Abby Griffin had gotten to her more than I realized.

"I don't have time for you to go all deep space on me, missus." He snapped.

She raised her head and glared at him. "I know exactly what you're trying to do, Bellamy Blake, and I won't fall for it."

He quizzically raised one eyebrow, "Oh really, and what is that, pray tell?"

She huffed and dropped into her chair. "You're trying to wind me up so you can say something so ridiculous I can't help but laugh, and then you'll get fake mad at me for laughing and then I'll say, "Shut up, Bell" and then you'll get fake hurt and then I'll feel bad and come over to say I'm sorry, and then you'll grab me and tickle me until I can't breathe and then when you let me up I'll have forgotten all about my stupid fucking bitch of a mother and you'll go off to bed all satisfied and smug." She continued to glare at him.

He smiled. Oh, it was good to be known so well. "Well… in that case."

Clarke's eyes darted to his in horror. "Oh no. No no no no no. Don't you even think about it, Blake! Don't you even – " Bellamy was at her side in a split second and had her lifted up over his shoulder before she'd said "Blake". He ran whooping out of the house, all the while with her shrieking, slapping his back and calling him all kinds of names. People looked up, in interest rather than alarm, smiling or laughed knowingly, and continued on their way.

"I swear to God, Bellamy, if you jump I will make you eat pickled beetroot for an entire week! I will put two headed snakes in your bed in the middle of the night! Don't Bell! Bellameeeeeeee!" And with a practiced move, Bellamy switched Clarke so that he had one arm under her knees and one supporting her back, and as she swung her arms around his neck in terror he took a running jump off the rocks into the swimming hole.

Clarke came up spluttering and reaching for Bellamy. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she screeched in a high-pitched voice.

Bellamy was three feet away, treading water, and roaring with laughter.


A/N: Alright guys! I hope you liked it. I hope you get a sense of Abby and Clarke's relationship at this point, and I hope it's not too difficult to believe that Abby went a bit nuts with power, and hasn't entirely forgiven her daughter for taking it away from her. Also, I know both this chapter and the last had very sugary sweet moments between Bellamy and Clarke, and I know those tend to be a bit OOC. This won't always be the way, but I believe in starting on a high note!

As to the "footnotes" I promised you:

Concerning circuits (also called cees in Havenite slang): Circuits are what they sound like. Little pieces of computers, radios, any electronics really. Clark and Bellamy needed something that was all the useful, wouldn't be expensive to collect or circulate. I figured they'd have a lot of broken crap lying around and could take those apart and use little pieces of electronics from them as their currency.

Furthermore, I am not an economist, nor a human behavior specialist. I am aware that some of the things I brought up about how well people were taking to circuits and what not are not necessarily correct or even feasible.

I do know that Bellamy and Clarke couldn't just give people circuits. Not only would they run out of circuits eventually, but that is the definition of inflation, and all of a sudden a little flower would cost people 2 million circuits (that's an exaggeration, but only kinda. Look up what happened to Germany's money after World War 1. People were burning notes because it was cheaper than buying firewood. Seriously. wiki/Hyperinflation_in_the_Weimar_Republic) So, I decided there would be some kind of tax system. I didn't want to try and put it into the story for fear of bringing the flow of the story to a screeching, overly detailing halt. So I'm putting it here. Just know that there is a finite amount of circuits in the system, and that through some kind of tax system, the government is getting some of it back, which will then be given back to the people in the form of relationship incentive money.

Thanks for reading guys! And I hope to have a new chapter to you soon!