Chapter 8

Bellamy had seen them approaching. Octavia being carried between the two men. He and Indra had backed them up against a cliffside wall so they could not be surrounded in case there were more enemy grounders.

"Bray!" Bellamy called to the young healer when he saw his injured sister. She arose hesitantly but when she saw what he did she rushed into action.

They laid her down and Bray carefully removed the tourniquet they had tied around her leg. Monty walked past them to the other men, he assumed.

Bellamy thought he heard the distant cry of 'Uncle John' from Wells but ignored it too distracted by Octavia's wound to care about what they others were doing.

He reached out and grabbed her hand when she hissed in pain. She griped it tight, making his fingers pale with the lack of blood supply.

Indra stood nearby watching but not involving herself. He knew she was worried about her second, the woman saw O as a daughter, but fussing over her would be a slight to not only her honor but O's. So, she kept her distance but watched everything like a hawk.

Bray tentatively pocked around the wound, "No arteries were hit. The muscle is slightly torn but that'll heal on its own." She sat back on her haunches as Clarke joined them evaluating the young woman's assessment. She nodded her agreement. "It'll need stitches though."

Clarke frowned, turning to Octavia, "It might be better to cauterize it. With all the walking, you won't have to worry about pulling stitches or getting an infection."

"Do it," Octavia puffed out.

"You'll have a nasty scar and it'll hurt like hell," Clarke wanted her to be informed and he appreciated that. Octavia did not, unfortunately.

"Are you deaf?! I said do it!"

Clarke sighed and looked down at Bray who was staring up at her waiting for her orders.

"Start a fire," she nodded and started gathering supplies.

Clarke kneeled next to Octavia. O flinched at the proximity but stopped trying to pull away when Clarke reached over and began lightly rewrapping the bandage as they waited for the fire.

Things had been tense between the two woman and Lincoln. Finding Lincoln with the blonde had shaken his sister. The two people she had placed all her anger in had been together all this time living the perfect life. Bellamy wondered if she thought Clarke had stolen the life she should have had. Did she even want that life? Or did she just want Lincoln? When she looked at Wells did she see the son that should've been hers?

Octavia had never shown any inclination to wanting any sort of domestic life. She had never talked about having children before. Bellamy didn't think she wanted any. Not to say she wasn't good with them. She had fun playing with the children at camp and had been good with Wells but at the end of the day he could always see the relief on her face when they returned to their parents.

The way that Lincoln was with Wells and the way he talked about the new baby he could tell the man had always wanted kids. The man was made to be a father. In his mind, this was just another thing that made the end to their relationship inevitable. He preferred this to O baring a child that she didn't want. He had seen that before, in Raven and others. Those people acted like their children were a burden sent to drain away their freedom. He knew that Octavia knew it was better this way, but she wasn't ready to admit it yet.

Octavia pulled him from his musings when she spoke to Clarke. It was the first time she had spoken to her since she had found out about Lincoln. It was still laced with aggression but it was a start.

"You let that bastard around you kid?"

Bellamy was confused to who she was talking about. He looked around for an explanation.

Indra stood at ease now that she knew the wound wasn't serious. She was currently interrogating Aden and judging by the look on her face she was not pleased with the young warrior. His eyes wandered to Lincoln and Bray who had quickly built the fire and were now sanitizing and heating the blade they were to use. Monty seemed to be preparing a quick meal since they were already stopped and would be for presumably the rest of the day.

When his eyes finally landed on Wells climbing up the back of a strange man he had his answer.

Wait. Not a stranger. "Holy shit," he couldn't help uttering. The man heard him and in an instant, he was staring into the slightly malicious eyes of John Murphy. "I thought you were dead."

"Don't you mean hoped," Murphy says as he pulls the young boy from his back and places him on the ground with a wide smile towards him.

Bellamy is utterly speechless for a moment. He doesn't think he's ever seen Murphy smile, a real smile, not a smirk or a sneer.

"Uncle John," the boy said excited. "I killed a rabbit." Uncle John?

"Dude, you've killed a bunch of rabbits," Murphy responded unimpressed.

"That was with traps," The boy said as exasperated as a six-year old could sound. "I killed this one with a bow." He finished proudly.

"Bull," was the succinct response.

As Wells turned to his father pleadingly, he saw Murphy's mouth twitch fighting a smile. "Daaddd! Tell Uncle John I killed the rabbit with a bow."

Linc quirked his eyebrow saying, "Are you sure? I do not remember that. Perhaps you were mistaken and it was Nisha?" Lincoln's usually stoic face met Murphy's as his son turned his face skyward and let out a longsuffering groan and smiled at the other man.

He smiled. At Murphy. John Murphy. The usually homicidal, egotistical, psychopath. He had thought he'd been having a stroke before but now he knew he was mistaken.

He turned to Clarke as Wells began to jog his father's memory. She was smiling bemusedly at the interaction. Okay definitely a stroke. Clarke was smiling at her husband, Lincoln, and Murphy, who her son refers to as Uncle John, as they tease her son Wells, named after the man she had once accused the same man called uncle of killing.

He turned to O who looked just a shell-shocked as him. At least he had one ally.

"What the hell?" she asked when they made eye contact.

Bellamy ran the hand not in Octavia's bone gripping hold through his hair. He shook his head in disbelief as Monty came over and gave Octavia a flask of water. He also handed Clarke a bowl of something with a rag in it, along with a dry one. She nodded.

"This is going to sting," she didn't hesitate as she removed the bandage and poured the liquid on Octavia's exposed wound. She jerked and almost broke his wrist with the abrupt movement. Clarke then began wiping the wound with the wet rag and then the dry one.

"What was that," Octavia asked annoyed.

"Alcohol, to clean the wound."

Monty crouched next to them and asked what Bellamy had been to stunned to. "So, Murphy?"

Clarke looked at them. She had obviously been expecting the question but still didn't seem to know how to answer. She shrugged, "It's a long story. Summary, life is complicated."

O snorted, "No shit."

Just then Bray returned holding a glowing blade in her hand, Lincoln trailing behind her. She nodded to him and he bent down and captured Octavia's injured leg after meeting her eyes for approval. Monty grabbed the other as he braced her shoulders. Clarke stepped back and whispered advice into Bray's ear. He was surprised by the competence he saw on the girl's face. Most of the time he thought of her as a silly tagalong, experiencing the world for the first time. But Clarke would not teach a fool. This girl knew her craft and had a confidence in her medical skill that she liked in the rest of her life.

She sat down and puckered the skin together. "Try not to flex the muscle or move too much," she told O as she placed the blade against his sister's skin. She screamed, reaching her hand around to grip the back of Bellamy's head, pulling some of his hair out. After a moment, she bit her lip to keep the cries in. Bray moved the tool further down her leg to finish sealing it. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and Monty gagged but managed to get himself under control.

When the knife was removed Octavia let out a slight 'fuck' before she promptly passed out. Bellamy kissed his sister's forehead, that was beaded with sweat, as he watched the two women wrap the wound letting out a sigh of relief.

…..

They were huddled around the fire that night. As Bellamy had believed they decided to rest for the remainder of the day giving Octavia's leg a chance to heal. Clarke was even reluctant about the next day. She said she would decide in the morning after having O run throw a few simple exercises. Bellamy was now thankful for their extremely slow pace. It would be much less demanding on her injured leg. She had, of course, insisted that she'd be able to walk and that they should keep moving but Bellamy didn't want to take the risk.

It was only when Indra had said 'It is better to rest now when we have the option then to need to later and not have the chance.' O had still been reluctant but she relented to her mentor.

Bellamy understood her respect for the woman but it was a constant thorn in his side that she deferred to her over him on every matter, even when he and the older woman were in agreement.

Aden had been sulking at the far end of the fire ever since he had been dressed down by Indra. She had told him that the boy had ignored Octavia's orders to take them out one by one while they were somewhat separated. Instead, when O had gone to take out the first grounder Aden had run off to attack the other and had been severely outmatched. Octavia was only able to knock her opponent out before she ran off to assist Aden. She had pushed him out of the way of a blow, catching it herself in the leg. Lincoln had shown up soon after to dispatch of the man while Murphy appeared and saved them from the last one.

"Idiot should've ran off to tell his friends rather than go after you guys," Murphy was saying.

Bellamy had thought the same.

"Maybe he thought he could take them out. Deplete our numbers?" Monty said unsurely.

"Maybe. I think he was just pissed you killed his friend," Murphy said the last part to Lincoln.

The man was sitting with his back against a tree, Clarke in-between his legs as Wells slept soundly, his head resting on her thigh as she ran a hand through his hair. If not for the topic of conversation being about enemy grounders who had come to stalk and or kill his wife, it would be a picture prefect family moment.

The image of them together should have taken some adjusting to. It should have been strange to see them together so at ease in each other's company. That normality made it feel familiar to him like it had always been this way. It was especially in the little things they did, they weren't overly affectionate but their slight touches lingered. When Lincoln brushed hair out of her face, helped her hike through a tough pathway, when she handed him a canteen, or how when she walked by him her hand would run across his shoulders as she passed and he would lean into the touch. But they were by no means different people. Clarke was still head strong and Lincoln was still overly somber. They would argue. Not often and never seriously, but about which way to go, if Clarke was pushing herself to hard, things like that.

What made everything a little surreal was Wells. Seeing him interact with his parents always shook him a bit. Bellamy had once known these two people intimately. They had been close friends, more like family. He knew their pasts, most of it anyway, the things that had been done to them, the things they had done, the people they had loved and lost, everything. But to Wells they were simply mom and dad. Not wanheda or a reaper. He was a little jealous of it actually. Here was someone they could literally start a clean slate with, who knew nothing of their pasts. Bellamy was not a stranger to being imprisoned by his past. And they were free of it, if only to this one little person who loved them unconditionally. He kind of wanted that.

"Whatever the reason it was foolish. We were just lucky you were there." Lincoln was still beating himself up about the slip with the grounder.

"Yeah, how did you manage to be our guardian angel at the perfect moment?" Octavia questioned from between he and Indra. Her leg was propped up and her back was against the log he and Indra sat on. He could tell it was already feeling better, but she winced when she had to put weight on it.

"It's easy when you've been following someone for like two days," Murphy said with a smirk. "Getting rusty, Linc?" he teased.

Bellamy's eyes narrowed at the familiarity between them. They had avoided the topic but they were fast approaching the moment of truth. Especially, if Murphy planned on joining them in Arcadia.

Linc gave a faint smile and answered, "I knew someone was following us but you had not gotten close enough to spy on us so I didn't think you were a threat. It is not the first time I have been wrong."

The other man snorted, "Was trailing behind in case you were followed."

"How'd you know to come after us?" this time Clarke asked.

"Went to your village and you guys were gone. Aida told me about your visitors. Woman practically ripped my arm off demanding I go after you."

"Aida," Bellamy asked.

"Cyril's mother," Clarke responded.

"So, you know where they live. The people in the village know you well enough to 'demand' things of you. And you just packed your shit up to follow after them? You guys must be really close," Octavia inquired forcefully.

"Yep," was his only response. Changing the subject Murphy pulled something from his pocket and tossed it to Lincoln who caught it one handed, the other still circled around Clarke and her bump. "Took that off one of our grounder friends. Only thing I found. Doesn't mean shit to me though." Ignoring the death glare Octavia was sending him for avoiding her questions.

Lincoln flipped through what Bellamy now saw to be a book, or rather journal. Lincoln hummed speaking, "I had one as well when I spied for Anya. It is coded. It will be almost impossible to break. At least we can be sure they were ice nation."

"How can you tell," Bellamy asked intrigued. Lincoln flipped to the first page of the book. On the inside of the cover was a symbol, a and with a swirl pattern at the palm.

"That is the symbol for Azgeda." Bellamy nodded his understanding.

"Maybe I could take a look at it," Monty pipped up. He was met with Lincoln's quizzical stare. "It probably uses a cypher that uses a keyword, right?" Linc nodded. "I'm good at that kind of stuff. I might be able to crack it."

Lincoln considered it for a moment. Bellamy saw Clarke's hand slip to the one he had encircled around her, giving it a soft squeeze. Lincoln then bobbed his head and tossed Monty the book.

He began studying it with a fever, pulling a blank page from the back and began to scribble down notes.

They grew silent then, except for the sound of Monty's scratching. Each one considering the implications that the ice nation had taken an active move against them. When their scouts did not return they would know something was wrong. They would send more, but at least they did not know they had Clarke with them, they killed them before they could share that fact.

Bray broke the silence with a seemingly innocent question but one that actually made each of the sky people freeze, "What do you guys miss most about the ark?"

Everyone who had grown up on the Ark was silent. Most of them chose not to think about the home they had left behind. There were too many people they associated with the lose and the Ark itself wasn't exactly full of warm and fluffy memories for them. Bellamy thought about his mother, Clarke and Murphy's own father's who had been floated. On the Ark, similarly to the ground, the needs of their survival often outweighed their humanity.

Even Aden perked up a little interested in their foreign homeland.

But Monty answered in true Monty form, "The grow room."

Octavia laughed, "Once a stoner always a stoner."

Monty rolled his eyes and explained to the curious grounders. "We were able to grow our food-"

"And drugs," added O.

Monty continued ignoring her, "In an environmentally controlled room. After living on the ground for so long and having to deal with the elements I appreciate that setup more every day." He said wistfully.

Monty and his mother, along with many of the other survivors from the agro station, had taken up the task of growing food for the colony. He new it was a pain in the ass job but they had been managing very well. Even building green houses to grow food during the winter months. They had traded seeds and crops with nearby grounder villages who had become their allies. Even sharing some of the knowledge they had carried down from the Ark, like the green houses.

"The books," Bellamy said. They weren't physical books but digital downloads of them. Only the Phoenix station ever got to eye see a real book. The rest of them only got the digital versions, which didn't matter too much to him. It was the same material just in different formats. Bellamy would read anything they managed to get their hands on. He would read the stories to Octavia and his mother, but he would mainly just read to himself whenever he got the chance.

"Air conditioning," Clarke said brushing the sweat from her brow to emphasize her point. The grounders were clearly confused, never having heard of air conditioning. "It was an electrical system that could blow cold air when you wanted," she explained.

"Ahh, that sounds fantastic, could we make one," Bray asked hopefully.

Monty smirked, "I already have." Clarke and Bray perked up like excited puppies. "We can only use it sparingly on special occasions but me and Raven worked out the details."

"You're joking," Clarke spoke mouth agape.

"Nope." Clarke smiled and Bellamy let himself believe that for a second she was happy to be coming with them. If only to get the chance to feel air conditioning once again.

"The machine hum," Monty continued.

The grounders were once again confused.

Clarke explained for them. "Remember in Mount Weather," Bellamy was expecting some emotional backlash from one of the two but nothing came. He was surprised. In a way, that place had been both of their undoings. It looks like they had both moved past the troubling events that had lead them to their current path. "How the engines and technology made a rhythmic humming noise." Indra an Lincoln nodded, she looked at the two others, their faces still showed some bewilderment, being too young to have been at the mount, but they seemed to grasp the general idea. "It wasn't loud but we could hear it 24/7, night and day. A soft buzz in the background of our lives. If you didn't hear it, it was a reason for concern because that meant something was broken."

"After we landed I couldn't sleep for like a month. I missed the hum. The forest had its own but it wasn't the same. It's animals and insects, living things. It's constant but it lacked the rhythm of the Arc."

"How'd you finally get to sleep," Aden surprised them by asking breaking his moratorium,

Monty snorted, "Jasper. We shared a tent and his snoring became my knew machine hum." Those of them who had met Jasper laughed, the others smiled at their joy.

After the laughter died down Murphy spoke up, "Glass Sorenson."

"You and Glass," Clarke asked skeptically.

"Clarke, you wound me. Didn't think I could get a Pheonix girl."

Bellamy leaned over towards the boy and extended his fist, "Nice." He said when Murphy returned the bump. Monty quickly joined in on the bump and the three men laughed.

"Pigs," Clarke muttered but ended up laughing as well.

Octavia who had been silent said so quietly everyone almost missed it, "The stars."

Bellamy stared at his sister, sadness crossing his face.

Because she was a second child and not even supposed to be alive, she had the worst memories of the Ark. To her it was a prison. She was confined to their one room housing assignment, never allowed to leave or even know anyone outside of him and their mother. The one time she did leave, because of his assurances, she was discovered and their mother was executed. Then she was thrown in lock-up. Octavia never even had a chance at a life until she came here.

"They were always so close. It was like you could touch them if you just reached out your hand." She turned her head skyward then staring at the twinkling stars above them.

A melancholy mood was slowly taking over but none of them were ready to shut the door on the memories they had allowed to resurface, not just yet.

"My dad," Clarke said quietly. Lincoln's arm tightened around her, like he was trying to protect her from her own memories.

"My dad," Monty added. His father had died on the ground but he had not seen him since before he left the Arc. He had once confided in Bellamy that he didn't even remember the last time he saw his dad. He knew that killed him a little.

"Mine too," Murphy said as well, angrily tossing a stick into the fire and watching the sparks fly up. It was common knowledge that Murphy's father had been floated after stealing medicine for a sick Murphy. His mother had turned to alcoholism in her despair and blamed her son for his father's death. He wasn't surprised when he didn't mention missing his mother.

"Mom," Octavia said quickly brushing a tear from her cheek. Bellamy hung his head in shame. He would always feel that their mother's death was his fault, because it was. He knew Octavia felt the same. She had said as much to him once, she had later backtracked saying she'd only said it in anger but he knew. She thought it was his fault and he didn't blame her for that. So, he was surprised when he felt her twine her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand appreciatively.

The group faded to silence then. Even the grounders seemed haunted by the ghosts of their pasts.