Chapter 3
The next morning, Bellamy was in the hangar bay packing the Rover with all the extra gear they would now be able to carry when John Murphy approached him with Emori in tow.
He and Murphy had had their ups and downs since landing on the ground, but Murphy had played an important part in bringing down ALIE. And in saving Clarke's life. For that more than anything, Bellamy had developed kindlier feelings toward Murphy. He didn't know much about Emori, other than that Murphy was crazy about her.
"I hear you're taking a trip," Murphy said, direct as always. "Looking for Octavia."
Bellamy was silent, waiting for Murphy to get to the point. Which was not long in coming.
"You should take us with you."
"Yeah? And why is that?"
"Because Emori knows the territory around here better than anyone in this camp. She knows where every village, trading post, cave, and hidey-hole is. Which ones are okay...and which ones to avoid."
Bellamy glanced at the girl out of the corner of his eye, but otherwise remained impassive.
"I thought she preferred to keep out of sight."
"Yeah, well maybe she's changed her mind..."
"I can talk for myself, John," Emori interrupted suddenly. Bellamy was pretty sure it was the first time he'd heard her speak since they left Polis.
"You're looking for your sister? I think I can help you. And...I think I've been here in this place long enough."
Bellamy raised his eyebrows at Murphy. "You wouldn't be coming back?"
Murphy shrugged. "I dunno," he said, with a sardonic little smile. "Not sure this is the place I want to ride out the end of the world."
Bellamy was still considering their request when Clarke appeared.
"They want to come with us," he told her as she approached.
Clarke's attention shifted to the other two and he knew without asking that her deliberations would be entirely practical. If she decided in the affirmative...
She nodded suddenly, just a quick jerk of her head, and at the same time quirked a brow at him. I think this might be a good idea, but I'll leave it up to you.
Bellamy agreed. But it would never do to seem too eager.
"Okay, but we do things my way," he said firmly. "You have a suggestion? Great. But this is my search and I'll make the final decisions. And just so we're clear, if you two pull any shit, I'm dumping your asses no matter where the hell we are. I don't care if it's off the edge of a cliff."
Bellamy paused to let that sink in.
"If you can live with that, then you're welcome to tag along."
For just a second, he wondered if his speech had been a little too over-the-top, but then Murphy smirked, and his, "Aye, aye, sir," was accompanied by a smart salute.
"Great." Bellamy had to work hard to suppress an answering smirk. "Get your gear and tell the mess I said you could pull two week's worth of rations. You got fifteen minutes."
As soon as they'd gone, Clarke gave in to the laughter she'd been suppressing. "Off the edge of a cliff? Really? You couldn't come up with a better threat than that for a couple of people looking down the road at nuclear annihilation?"
Clarke went off into fresh peals of laughter as she once again contemplated Bellamy the hardass.
Bellamy grinned. "Shut up," he said without heat.
Fuck, it was good to hear Clarke laugh again.
XXXXXXXXXX
They'd decided to start their search at Niylah's trading post, since it was the closest thing to civilization to be found anywhere near the western edge of Polis. As soon as he pulled the Rover to a stop in the clearing in front of the post, Bellamy turned to the two in the back seat.
"Niylah has a lot of good shit in there, and I don't want to find any of it in here when we come out."
"What the hell does that mean..." Murphy began indignantly, but Bellamy cut him off.
"Don't give me that crap. I know all about your light-fingered girlfriend here," he said, looking directly at Emori. "But I swear if you steal so much as a beaded necklace from Niylah, I'll cut off your one good hand."
Clarke gasped. "Bellamy!"
But Emori just laughed. "Yeah, like I haven't heard that threat before. Or that I'd be stupid enough to steal from Niylah. Everyone knows she flipped her knife at some guy in a very, uh, sensitive spot for trying to cheat her. Put a serious dent in his love life. I don't offer the same target, but I'm sure she could get creative. So I'll be extra careful not to cross her."
Bellamy's brow creased as he thought that over. "Good," he said.
They had all exited the vehicle, and he was once again marveling at the pair of giant tusks that hung over the entrance to Niylah's shop when he heard the distinct and unmistakable crack of a gunshot. Without pausing for thought, Bellamy tackled Clarke to the ground and covered her with his body, at the same time wondering who the hell out this way had a gun and might want to use it against them.
He was reaching for his pistol when he saw that Murphy had already run across the clearing and was grabbing a rifle out of the hands of a very perplexed-looking Niylah.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you shoot at all your customers? Or is this the 'new customer' initiation?" Murphy was not given to reining in his annoyance.
With the threat neutralized, Bellamy helped Clarke up and they approached the others.
"Why did you shoot at us, Niylah?" Clarke was bewildered.
Niylah groaned. "Not that you Sky People don't deserve it, but I never meant to shoot. It was an accident. No one's been here in so long that I got a little...nervous...when I heard your vehicle."
Not an explanation that Murphy was prepared to accept.
"An accident? Sister, you're a menace! Where the hell did you even get this rifle?"
"That's a good question, Niylah. Where would you get a rifle? Grounders don't use guns." Clarke tried and failed to hold Niylah's gaze.
Niylah sent a furtive glance toward Bellamy, and suddenly he knew.
"From Octavia. You got the rifle from Octavia." She must have taken it from the throne room. Clever, really. She wouldn't want it herself but it would have a high value in trade.
"Why the hell should I tell your murdering ass anything?" Niylah spat at Bellamy, and his heart sank as he acknowledged to himself how little she would want to help him.
"Niylah," Clarke said, taking her elbow and leading her back into the shop, "you just said no one's been around for a long time. I'm pretty sure we can explain why that is. Along with a lot of other stuff you might want to know about. We might even," she glanced at Bellamy, communicating wordlessly, "show you how to use the rifle."
He gave her a nod. Anything to get the information he wanted.
They had all five of them moved into the trading post by then, and Clarke swung Niylah around to face the others.
"But we need to know whatever you can tell us about Octavia. Bellamy is really worried about her."
Niylah opened her mouth but Clarke kept right on talking.
"Yeah, I know you don't care about Bellamy, or how worried he is, but I'm worried, too. We all are. And you will be, too, when you hear what we have to say. So, please. Have you seen Octavia?"
Niylah glanced again at Bellamy, her hostility still evident. And he could hardly blame her.
Bellamy's participation in the attack on the grounder army was something that his conscience would wrestle with for a long time. But right here, right now, it looked like it was not only the moral implications of his actions that would come to haunt him. He'd made a personal enemy of Niylah, whose father had been part of that army, and if that meant he'd never find Octavia...
Clarke's voice broke in on his distressing thoughts, as though she knew just when to pull him out of his head.
"Bellamy, Niylah wants your word that you won't try to force Octavia to go back to Arkadia. I told her that you never break your word."
Bellamy marveled once again at Clarke's capacity for getting people to do what she wanted. He knew she'd worked her magic on him plenty of times in the past, but since this was on his behalf, he wasn't going to complain.
He shook his head, tried to reassure the mistrustful Niylah. "I only want know that she's safe. And that she'll stay safe. For what...might be coming."
Niylah's eyes were hard as they looked at him. "Okay," she said suddenly. "You all keep dropping hints about something. What aren't you telling me?"
Clarke was equally determined. "Octavia?" she insisted.
Niylah sighed, giving in. "Octavia was here more than a week ago. She said there'd been some kind of big battle in Polis and that she had the rifle to trade for travel supplies. And before you ask, she never said exactly where she was going, but I had the feeling it had to do with the man she loved. The one...who died?" Her voice rose in question.
Clarke nodded. "Lincoln. What made you think that? That it had something to do with Lincoln."
"She said..." Niylah paused, recalling, "Octavia said she'd tried doing it her own way but it hadn't made her feel better. So maybe...someone...was right. And she was going back to talk to her."
She shrugged. "Or something like that. That's all I can remember."
It was enough. Bellamy understood, and from the expression on her face, so did Clarke. Octavia had killed Pike, but it hadn't made her feel any better about Lincoln's death.
Bellamy had tried his best to make her understand that it wouldn't, but Octavia hadn't wanted to listen. And now she was heading back for another conversation with the other person who'd tried to tell her that she didn't have to follow a path of violence. That there was another way to live her life.
Octavia didn't understand that grief was something that had to be borne. That had to be worked through until you came out the other side. So she was on a quest to find the magic solution - the quick fix - the something that would make her grief go away.
And it looked like Luna was her next stop.
XXXXXXXXXX
They'd explained it as carefully as they could, but they still couldn't be sure that Niylah either believed or understood what had gone down in Polis. If you hadn't seen first-hand how it affected people - or been held captive by it, like Emori - the City of Light sounded...fantastical.
But in the end it just didn't matter, because that battle was over. Niylah was much more alarmed to hear about the new threat, the one that didn't distinguish between grounder and sky person. The one that would kill them all with equal detachment. They promised to let her know if the danger became imminent.
There was some consternation about how to fulfill the final part of their bargain, teaching Niylah how to use that rifle she'd taken in trade. Clarke was no help, since she'd never really learned to handle a rifle properly. And Murphy flat-out refused to teach the crazy trading post girl how to become even more of a menace.
So in the end, it was Bellamy who taught Niylah how to use the gun. He was the last person she wanted to learn from, of course, and the time they were forced to spend in each others' company was equally wretched for them both. Bellamy found it a particularly excruciating penance.
"Don't think this lets you off the hook," Niylah said, her eyes hard and accusing, when he'd finally pronounced her rifle skills sufficiently proficient.
"I'll never be off the hook," he told her quietly.
Bellamy saw the surprise flash across her face, and then it was gone. To be replaced by the unforgiving look she'd worn all day. "Good," she said, as Bellamy expected. As he knew he deserved.
All aspects of their deal with Niylah had been completed by late afternoon, and while Clarke suggested they spend the night there and make an early start the following morning, Bellamy was eager to follow Octavia's path and insisted they needed to leave immediately. When he tried hurry Clarke out to the Rover, he saw that she was deep in conversation with Niylah.
A conversation he could easily overhear, even though he was several feet away. And after Niylah's first words, he was rooted to the spot.
"Are you sure you're safe with him?" she was asking Clarke quietly, her voice full of concern.
"With Bellamy? He's the one person I'm always safe with, Niylah. Please don't worry about me."
"But..." Niylah sounded unconvinced.
Clarke's tone was reassuring. "He's risked his life for me over and over. And I know he'd do it again without a thought."
"And you? Would you do the same?"
Bellamy barely breathed as he waited for her soft reply,
"Of course," she said. "In a heartbeat."
He turned away then, emotion coursing through him, but not before he saw Clarke pull Niylah into a farewell embrace. Clarke's back was to him, but he could see Niylah's face, and he suddenly knew that the relationship between the two girls was far more personal than he'd ever imagined.
Bellamy quickly made his way to the Rover, telling himself not to be an idiot, reminding himself sternly that it was none of his business what Niylah may have been to Clarke. Willing his face not to give away what he'd learned.
But she could always read him like a book.
They were only a few miles down the narrow track that led away from the trading post when Clarke turned to him suddenly.
"Bellamy." Her voice was tentative. "About Niylah..."
Bellamy didn't pretend to misunderstand, but neither was he owed any explanations. They were not...it wasn't like that with them. Never had been. Probably never would be.
"None of my business," he said quickly.
He glanced over at Clarke just in time to see the mutinous look that crossed her face. The one that meant she'd decided to tell him something and nothing he could say would dissuade her.
Bellamy sighed as his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. He certainly wasn't having this conversation with a curious Murphy and Emori hanging onto every word.
He could see Clarke winding up to protest his last remark, but before she could open her mouth, he gave her a tiny nod and side-eyed the two in the back seat. Clarke let out a breath in frustration but he knew she was no more eager than he to have an audience.
She settled back into the seat with a sigh, but he wasn't so foolish as to think that that particular conversation was over.
They'd driven barely twenty miles over rough terrain when darkness began to fall, and they stopped for the night under a secluded copse of trees. As they ate their tasteless rations, Bellamy prepared himself for hours of wakefulness. But despite the emotional day he'd spent and the discomfort of bunking down in the Rover, his exhausted body was asleep within minutes.
When they awoke the next day, it was to a darkening sky and a Rover that was only partially charged. They could wait for a full charge or they could try to get as far as possible before the impending storm broke. They decided to move.
It turned out to be an unwise choice.
A couple of hours later, the storm broke in fierce waves of lashing rain. The temperature plummeted, and if that weren't enough, the Rover got stuck when their smooth dirt track suddenly turned into a bog. They spent the last of the Rover's charge trying to free the vehicle, but only succeeded in further miring it in the mud.
"Bellamy! Forget it!" Murphy had to yell to make himself heard over the rain that pounded on the Rover's metal roof. "We'll have to wait until it's charged again and the track dries out."
Bellamy knew he was right, and when he saw Clarke shiver suddenly, he realized they had a more immediate problem.
"It's going to be too cold to stay in the Rover tonight. We need to find someplace where we can have a fire."
"In this rain? You're out of your fucking mind."
Bellamy knew Murphy was probably right, but dammit! They were cold. Clarke was cold. He used his hand to wipe away the foggy film that had formed inside the side window, peering out into the storm as though the answer to his problem would appear if only he looked hard enough.
"Grab whatever you can carry, whatever you think you'll need. I know where we can go."
It was Emori who had spoken, and Murphy and Clarke had immediately begun gathering up their belongings. But Bellamy needed more before he ceded his responsibilities to someone else. Someone he didn't know and had little reason to trust.
"Yeah? And where is that?" He knew hadn't succeeded in keeping the skepticism from his voice.
Emori chuckled. "You're welcome to stay here if you want, but it's gonna get colder than a witch's tit, so you might wanna rethink that."
Bellamy sighed. "At least tell me what you have in mind."
"Hey! If you don't want to come, Bellamy, you can stay here, like she said." Murphy's annoyance was palpable.
"Bellamy..." Clarke placed her hand gently on his arm. "She knows the ground better than any of us. Get your stuff and let's go."
He knew she was right, knew he didn't have to come up with every answer, handle every situation personally. Reminded himself that in this situation he didn't even have an answer. But things always seemed to get fucked up when he followed someone else's lead. So it was hard to let go.
But Clarke had decided it would be okay, and he trusted Clarke's judgment.
It was a twenty minute walk in a torrential rainstorm, and more than once Bellamy wondered if he'd been right to trust Emori. Just as he was winding up to call bullshit on her phantom shelter, Emori stopped short. If she hadn't known exactly where it was, they would have completely missed the entrance to the cave. Or rather, into a series of caves that ran under the edge of an enormous mountain.
The air inside was musty and stale, but it was clear that the space had been used for shelter before. The floor of the cave was littered with the remains of earlier fires, and Bellamy wasted no time in starting one of his own.
"Wet clothes off!" Clarke said immediately, and they all removed as many garments as they could while still retaining some dignity. "Socks, too," she reminded them, alive to the dangers of not letting their feet dry properly.
Their wet clothes were laid out near the fire to dry while they unpacked enough rations to have a makeshift dinner. Bellamy hoped they'd be able to hunt someday soon so they could supplement their rations, because he was sick of the tasteless protein packs.
"How did you happen to know about this cave?" Clarke asked Emori, breaking the awkward silence that had settled amongst them as they sat around the fire after their meal.
Emori shrugged. "There's always shit weather to escape. And shit people. Me and Otan..."
Her voice broke suddenly, and Bellamy realized this was the first time he'd ever seen her show emotion. But the now-dead Otan was her brother and Bellamy understood.
"I'm sorry about your brother," he said suddenly. "It shouldn't have happened."
"Yeah," Emori said softly. Then she gave a little sigh and blinked away the sadness. Was herself again.
"Otan found this cave when we were little, before...nomon died."
Bellamy nodded. He understood about that, too.
Murphy stood suddenly, pulling Emori up. "Why don't we do a little cave exploring?" he said, but the look on his face told a different story.
Emori laughed. "Let's," she agreed, and they quickly moved farther into the system of caves, until eventually their voices were only a murmur of sound.
Bellamy wondered aloud if it wouldn't be better security if they all stayed together, but Clarke gave him an incredulous look.
"Bellamy! Let them have some privacy."
He shrugged and nodded. Grabbed a blanket and lay down. Tried to decipher the look on Clarke's face. When she lay down next to him, he expected her to curl into herself like she had that night in his room. But instead, she rolled over and snuggled against his body.
"Warmer this way," she said. And he had to agree. Every part of him was heating up quickly.
To distract himself from the press of her ample breasts against his chest, Bellamy said the first thing that came into his head.
"Uh, do you think Murphy and Emori will be long? We should set up a watch."
Clarke burst out laughing, and as happy as he always was to hear her laugh, he knew without a doubt that she was laughing at him.
"I think they're kinda busy," she said, still smirking. "And we can survive without them."
"Um, yeah," he said, eager to leave the subject behind.
Suddenly Clarke raised herself on her elbow and peered down at him suspiciously.
"Bellamy Blake! Are you...embarrassed?"
"Uh..." How the fuck could he tell her that he didn't give a shit what the hell Murphy and Emori were getting up to but that the press of Clarke's body against his was awakening all kinds of desires within him that he knew he shouldn't - couldn't - allow.
For once, thankfully, she read him wrong.
"You are embarrassed! You, the guy who had the girls lining up to get into his tent when we first landed in the drop ship."
Bellamy relaxed with a laugh. He could easily handle this conversation.
"Bullshit! There weren't that many girls. And besides..." He paused, recalling the uncertainty and the fear of those early days, when he wondered how the hell he would be able take care of Octavia and himself. Recalled the comfort of those warm and willing bodies.
"What?" she asked, suddenly sober.
Bellamy sighed. "I didn't know what the hell I was doing back then. I didn't know...you."
"I remember those days," she said. "You always seemed like you knew exactly what to do."
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "I was scared shitless. And the girls? They were a comfort. And I like to think I was some comfort to them, too," he added after a time.
Remembered Roma and the others. All gone now. All dead.
Clarke curled back into his side. "I can...understand that. It's why I wanted to explain to you yesterday about Niylah."
"Clarke, you don't have to explain anything to me. It's none of my damn business."
"Bellamy," she said, dropping her eyes and clutching at his shirt. "I just...I don't want there to be any secrets between us. So please, I need to explain."
"Okay," he said softly. Who was he to refuse her something that she needed?
Clarke sighed and began. "I'd been by myself for so long, out there in the forest. Niylah was one of the few people I saw when I went there to trade, and just about the only one I ever spoke to. And then I heard, here and there, that they were after me. That everyone was after me. That I'd become some sort of...prize. And I tried not to be, but I was so scared."
Bellamy's heart clenched as she told her tale, and he imagined her alone and afraid.
"A panther," she paused, shuddering softly, and he could only imagine what terrors she was recalling. "A panther had clawed me, and Nylah cleaned it up for me. I was...filthy, and she washed away the dirt. She was so gentle and so kind. And right then I needed that so badly. The comfort of a gentle touch. And...to feel something again. To feel alive."
"Yeah, I can understand that," Bellamy said after a while, his voice choked with sympathy. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
He pulled her tightly against him and forgot about everything except Clarke's need for comfort. Then and now.
"You had your own demons, Bellamy. I understand that now. Although at the time, I selfishly thought I was the only one."
Her voice was muffled as she unburdened herself to his t-shirt-covered chest.
"But you've forgiven me for abandoning you. Now I just have to try to forgive myself."
Bellamy hugged her tightly, his entire being suffused with an emotion he could easily identify - and just as stubbornly refuse to name.
"So," he said finally, softly. "Are all your secrets out now?"
"Not all," Clarke said sleepily, curling into him once again. "But maybe...one at a time."
