A/N: Hey guys, I know this is a short one but I figured better a short update now then wait another two weeks for me to fiddle and add on to this chapter. I hope you're enjoying the story, and a whole lotta love to everyone who's still with me. Please please review I miss getting reviews, and without them I start to question whether anyone's still reading this.
There had been no sign of Murphy for over a month. Clarke had learned that optimism was dangerous to them, but still, she was optimistic. She hadn't hardened enough as a person to find joy in his death, so she hoped he had simply gone, moved, somewhere far away.
Despite the initial good spirits of finding a warm place to ride out the winter, people were beginning to mourn the loss of their friends and family on the ark. Raven had gotten drunk one night and let it slip that there was no statistical possibility that life could be sustained on the ark after so much time had gone by, and it had been enough to destroy the bubble of denial that they had all been living in.
There was something about being the last of your kind that left them empty, and depression had set in amongst the campers. Clarke knew there was nothing she could do for them, any of them, and so she grieved quietly along with the rest. Her mother was dead. Her father was dead. She was 17 years old and an orphan. But she was not special. She had lost both her parents the night her father was executed, even if she hadn't known it at the time. Many of the others had lost their entire family on the ark, and though they couldn't know when, their grief was fresh and real.
Clarke propped herself up on her elbows. She looked over at Bellamy who was sleeping soundly beside her, and sighed. He had lost his mother years ago, and he had never known his father. Octavia was his family, and she was here. Clarke had been with him long enough to realize that his sister was his anchor, the only thing keeping him from falling into his bad habits. As she watched him, she felt her heavy heart give a sad little kick. She was in love with him. She didn't know when it had happened, or how, but it had. She was in love with him. And the one thing, the one constant in her life, had been the inevitable loss of every person she had ever loved. Her mother, her father, Wells. Getting to her feet, Clarke brushed her hand gently across Bellamy's forehead, then slipped quietly from the tent.
Outside, daylight streamed in from the ceiling, bouncing off the water. Clarke squinted as her eyes adjusted. The air, even in the cave, was cold and crisp. Not the cutting cold of the world outside their little oasis, but still enough to add an edge to the morning. It wasn't as early as she'd thought, the full sun reflecting around the cave told her that much, but the quiet told her that nearly everyone else was still sleeping. With depression came exhaustion, the deep, weighty tired that settled into your bones and dragged like chains everywhere you went. Clarke knew that. She also knew they wouldn't survive if they let it drag them down. There was too much at stake, too much relied on their survival. They were the remainder of the human race, minus the questionable population of grounders, and that responsibility, though unsolicited, was like an anvil on her back. Stupid, she thought, that it would matter. Their lives were on the line just the same as before, and wasn't that enough?
The soft pat of footsteps on sand came from behind her and she turned, finding Evelyn smiling as she approached. Clarke tried not to let her mind wander to her dream, but she failed. Evelyn cleared her throat.
"Good morning." The pregnant redhead's voice was soft, sleepy. Clarke didn't feel sleepy, nor particularly soft. Her voice sounded harsh and loud in the stillness.
"Good morning." Out of habit more than anything else, Clarke reached out, her hand brushing Evelyn's stomach. It had started to swell, the small bump covered by her shirt. Soon though, her skin would peek out from under the thin Henley. Clarke made a mental note to give her one of the flannel shirts. "How are you feeling?"
"Great." She flashed her dimples, the sun highlighting the copper in her hair. She was beautiful, but that just made Clarke all the more curious as to her baby's father. There were few boys in the camp who would have turned her down.
"Evelyn," Clarke started, slowly. "I don't want to be nosy, but-" Evelyn cut her off.
"You want to know who the baby's father is." Clarke bit her lip, embarrassed. "If I knew, I would tell you." The other girl gave her a parting smile, then disappeared back into her tent. Still processing that information, Clarke stumbled into someone.
"Oh," She said, looking up and seeing a friendly face. "Jay, Hi."
The younger boys face was drawn and sad, his boyish grin replaced by the quick, tense smile of a man lifetimes ahead of him. He looked older, and sadder, though in his case Clarke suspected they were one in the same. He looked… like everyone else, she realized. They all walked like they carried the grief of a long, tragic life. And all of them, save Bellamy, were under twenty. It was a testament to the power of a great tragedy, that it could age them like that.
"Hey, Clarke." Even Jay's voice was different, thinner. Like not all of him had survived the loss of his parents, of his little sister. Clarke didn't have any siblings, but she imagined losing one would be cruel and painful. She fought the urge to pull him into a hug.
"How are you doing?" Her voice held some of the softness she hadn't had for Evelyn. She had come to care about Jay, and seeing him suffering like this tightened the vice around her chest.
"I'm alright. How are you?" He was polite, he was always polite. It was one of the things Clarke loved about him. Now it just made him sound formal, and empty.
"I'm worried." The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she cursed herself. The last person she wanted to burden with her problems was Jay. His eyebrows furrowed a little deeper, etching caverns in his forehead.
"About what?" He asked. She just shook her head. She refused to put any more stress in his life. Something about him made her want to protect him. She didn't think she could, didn't think that there was a force in the universe that could protect any of them anymore, but still she wanted to try.
"It's nothing." She said, her voice forcedly more carefree than she felt. Whether or not it convinced Jay, he looked too exhausted to pursue it any further. "Have you eaten?" When he shook his head Clarke turned toward the greenhouse that had been set up. Jay followed her and they fell into step together.
"Clarke." He said, her name a question without the inflection.
"Hmm?"
"Are we-Are we going to make it?" He asked. His voice lacked any real concern, any emotion at all. It was as if he didn't care. It disturbed her in a way that was not familiar. She'd seen monsters, and murderers, and she'd been thrust onto a planet who's very air was a threat to her life. But this-this lack of will to survive that seemed to be slowly creeping through their camp like a virus was more frightening than anything she had experienced yet. And, she was beginning to be fairly certain, much more dangerous. She stopped, turned to Jay.
"Yes, we're going to be fine." The fervor in her own voice surprised her, but she continued, firmly. "Listen to me. We will survive, we…" She trailed off, lost. Why would they survive? Because they had to? Because they were the only ones left? Extinction was not only possible, but likely if past events were any indicator. "We need to believe that." She said. It was the truth, and it was all she could offer him. She didn't know what they were about to face, didn't know if the radiation was slowly killing them. She was past being able to hope for the best, but she hoped for survival. Jay sighed, taking a seat on one of the log benches they had hauled into the cave.
"I see her." He muttered, not quite under his breath. Clarke stared at him.
"What?"
"My sister. I dream about her, and sometimes… even when I'm awake I see her." His voice trembled a little. Clarke sat next to him, putting a hand on his knee.
"I used to see Wells." She said quietly. She hadn't told anyone about it. It was just a flicker sometimes, like after she'd seen something funny she would look up to laugh with him, and forget he was gone. But sometimes, it was as though she so expected him to be there that he was, just for a second, his face caught in a smile. But like vapor it was fleeting, never solid, never enough. She wondered what it meant that she didn't see her parents.
"Maybe we're crazy." Jay said, his voice weary. Clarke just laughed.
"Yeah, maybe. I'm starting to think crazy's relative." She stood, ruffling a hand affectionately through his hair before turning away. She caught sight of Bellamy emerging from the tent, his hair wild, eyes slitted with sleep. The sight sent a twinge through her chest. She still had something to lose, and she was starting to fear that without him, she really would go crazy.