a/n We're over half way through this fic now and I don't know how I feel about that! Please enjoy some fluff and angst. Huge thanks to Stormkpr for high-speed betaing! Happy reading!
Content note: ongoing anxiety and depression.
Clarke finds that she is more or less happy, in the days that follow. It's an interesting experience – she learns for the first time in her life that happiness and intense anxiety can coexist. She can watch nervously whilst Madi sleeps at night, yet enjoy a bedtime chat and hug with Bellamy. She can feel nervous about Cadogan's schemes, yet relish the chance to sit and plan for a peaceful resolution with her husband. In short, she can fret about the safety of her family, yet also live for the moments they all sit around the supper table together.
Life is not perfect, of course. She has two more horrific nightmares about Cillian blended with Bellamy in the space of three days, and it leaves her tired and shaky. And Cadogan has signed an addendum to the peace treaty regarding Madi's specific protection, but Clarke knows he would overturn it in a second if he thought that was a step on the road to transcendence.
But really, she finds that there is more joy in her life than she has known for quite some time. Having Bellamy back as her best friend and right-hand-man feels even better now that she knows what it is like to lose him. And Madi is growing more confident and secure by the day, as the nightmares of Sheidheda recede.
But here she is lying fretfully awake early in the morning and waiting for Bellamy to stir.
Maybe one day she will say goodbye to this anxiety. But for now, at least she is learning to live with it.
"Should have woken me up." Bellamy grumbles, voice still fuzzy with sleep.
She grins over at him where his head lies on the pillow next to hers. "I'm alright. Really. I was fine just lying here and watching you sleep." It's a small kind of progress, but it's progress all the same.
He smiles softly, snuggles down into his pillow a little deeper. It makes her want to reach out and stroke his face, but she fears that might be too much. They do a lot of carefully platonic cuddling, both in and out of bed. But she suspects face stroking probably crosses a line.
A line she is fast realising she desperately wants to cross.
That's neither here nor there. She's loved Bellamy for years, and she'll keep loving him whether he loves her or not. That's just the way it is. She's got the hang of that now – she's not resigned to it so much as embracing it. He's a good guy – better than he gives himself credit for – and he deserves to be loved so truly and altruistically.
He's still smiling at her. She draws her focus back to that. No sense worrying about what she cannot change – she's getting better at setting such concerns aside in their small mental boxes.
"Go back to sleep." She chides him softly.
"No. Not now I know you're already up. I don't want to miss out on the fun."
She snorts, finds herself smiling at the same time. It makes for an odd combination. It's just so Bellamy, to cover the truth with a strained joke like that. She knows full well that he means he doesn't want to go back to sleep and leave her alone with her worries. And he must know that she knows – that's how their friendship works.
She supposes that if they're awake now, they should try for some coherent conversation.
"Have you got any plans for the day?" She asks him.
He frowns. "Working on it. I think I should go see O. I need to give her that drawing I did last week. I still – I haven't dared do that yet." He mutters.
"That's OK." She rushes to assure him. "That's fine. Take your time."
He nods slightly, turns it into another snuggle into his pillow. Good god, but he looks cute doing that. It's starting to drive her mad, imagining what it might be like to have him snuggle into her neck or chest like that instead.
"I should go see Echo too."
Silence falls, thick and heavy. Of course it does. Mentioning an ex-girlfriend is a pretty efficient way of making a marriage bed turn cold.
Clarke swallows thickly, fishes for something to say. She should encourage this, she knows. He was with Echo for years. And she and Clarke are reasonably close friends now, too. She should want the two of them to make peace.
But it's difficult. It's petty, but she feels jealous at the thought of them hitting it off again. If Bellamy doesn't believe in transcendence any more, does he believe in love? Does he want to dissolve this marriage when it ceases to serve its purpose as a cover story and head back to Echo? Sure, he talked about having loved Clarke, the morning after the wedding. But he never made any attempt to define what he meant by that. For all she knows, he was speaking platonically, and he's starting to pine for Echo again now his head is clearing.
She swallows again. She can do this. She's done harder things before now than helping her husband make up with his former lover.
Hasn't she?
"You could go see Echo if you're feeling ready." She says cautiously.
He frowns deeply, makes no answer.
"What is it?" She prompts.
"I'm not feeling ready." He admits, rolling right onto his back and staring, dejected, at the ceiling rather than meeting her gaze. "I know I should be. She'll forgive me – she loved me. But – it feels like too much. I don't know what to stay or where to start."
"I get that." Clarke rushes to assure him. "Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want to – I don't know – practise some lines? Or have me come with you?" She cannot think of anything more awkward, but she'd do that and more for love of him.
"Honestly – I know this is a lot to ask – but..." He pauses. She reaches out to squeeze his shoulder in reassurance. He tries again. "Could I ask you to go see her with a message? To – to work up to actually trying to talk with her myself?"
Clarke nods at once. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you need."
That gives him pause. That has him rolling back onto his side, snuggling so sweetly back into his pillow.
"You'd really do that?"
"Bellamy. You've saved my life so often I've lost count. I think I can deal with carrying an emotional message to a friend for you."
He tries for a smile, gives a slightly damp chuckle.
"What do you want me to say?" She presses gently.
"I'd like to tell her that – that I'm working for peace now. That I'm not the enemy." Bellamy mutters. "I want to tell my sister the truth about that today too. I really want to tell them both. But I guess – I wanted to run that past you first. Telling more people is a risk."
"Telling your sister and your girlfriend sounds safe to me." Clarke points out, brow quirked. "They won't say anything. And they both know about keeping secrets. If it's important to you to tell them, we should tell them."
He nods. He is silent for a moment. And when he speaks up, his words have nothing to do with the secret or the plan or any such thing.
"I figure she's pretty firmly my ex girlfriend at this point." He says.
She can't read his tone. That takes her by surprise, because she's got good at reading him again as he's come back to himself. Sure, it's occasionally felt a little awkward to be deliberately trying to work with him rather than just feeling it happen organically. But by and large, she's understanding him very well these days.
So why can she not make sense of him now?
It's the emotional entanglement, she decides. She's never been good at processing his relationship with Echo. For all that she's a pragmatic and sensible woman there is no doubt that she has always been profoundly jealous of their love.
"Sorry about that." She says neutrally. "I guess relationships suffer when you get stranded on an isolated planet or get hung up on the fate of the human race."
He barks out a tight laugh. "Yeah. You can say that again. Not ours though – I feel like we're stronger than ever." He tells her warmly.
"I can agree with that." She says. She can agree with it easily. She cannot help but feel moved that their friendship and her understanding means so much to him that she was able to help him get his head cleared and healthy after Etherea, that she was enough to be even part of what brought him back to himself.
Maybe, when she looks at it like that, she can stop being jealous of Echo.
…...
Going to see Echo is a lot less awkward than discussing the idea with Bellamy, of course. Echo is not in the business of creating emotional drama, in Clarke's experience. She's a rather straightforward sort of a woman – yet complicated at the same time, in a vastly different way.
So it is that Clarke knocks on the door of her quarters, and is welcomed inside, and takes a seat on the couch.
"Is this a social call or is something going on?" Echo asks mildly, offering Clarke a drink.
She takes the cup of Jo juice and sips thoughtfully. "A bit of both. It's a social call with a purpose."
Echo laughs shortly. "My favourite kind. What can I help you with?"
"Nothing much, yet. Let me start at the beginning." She heaves in a breath. "What I'm about to tell you stays in this room. I mean that absolutely. You, Octavia, Madi, Bellamy and I will be the only people to know."
Echo nods, eyes narrowed. Clarke's pretty sure she's already figured out half of what's coming next. She wasn't a spy by accident – that much is obvious.
"Bellamy isn't working for Cadogan any more."
"He's back." Echo summarises shortly.
"Yes and no." Clarke admits, honest and a little raw. "He's still – he's different in some ways. And he's not going to be fighting for this one. He's decided he wants to work with me to take down Cadogan as long as it's done peacefully. Minimal casualties."
Echo nods. "That sounds more like Bellamy than where we were before." She points out.
"Yeah. Exactly. He doesn't want any of his friends hurt – that's his priority again. And he wants peace for the whole human race rather than transcendence."
Another nod. "What do you need me to do?"
Clarke bites her lip. "Nothing yet. If you've got any genius ideas for how to lead a peaceful revolution I'd love to hear them. But I'm not really here for your help." She swallows thickly. "I'm here because Bellamy's trying to rebuild his bridges. He's pretty comfortable with me and Madi now. He's started seeing his sister very occasionally. He's – he's trying to work on putting things right with you. But he wasn't ready to come here himself just yet. So he asked me to tell you that he's not working for Cadogan and send his best wishes."
She pauses, breath held high in her chest, waits for Echo's response. Now she's said it out loud, she cannot help but feel that it sounds foolish. It made perfect sense, this morning, when she offered to come here. Bellamy was lying next to her looking earnest and upset and trying to do the right thing. Obviously she wanted to help him out. But now she wonders whether perhaps this was just an incredibly awkward idea.
She forces herself to breathe into her belly, deeper and slower. Echo may be sharp, but she's not unkind – at least not when people she cares about are involved. And she does still care about Bellamy, doesn't she? If nothing else she's friends with Clarke, even if they are not exactly the closest.
Seconds pass. Echo's face is almost perfectly still, her lightly furrowed brows the only sign she's still processing. Clarke finds her incredibly difficult to read – she is not a woman who shows her emotions openly on her face, for the most part.
But there's something soft about her eyes that has Clarke starting to wonder if it might be good news.
"Tell him I say hi." Echo says at last, lips twisted into a wry half-smile. "I don't know what else there is to say. I'm happy to hear he's working for peace now. I – I hope he's well." She says, with firm emphasis.
Clarke nods. "He's as well as could be expected, given everything that happened."
Echo nods stiffly. Clarke wonders what is going on behind her careful mask. It must be a difficult message to receive, she suspects. Mixed feelings sounds like an understatement.
That's why she tries reaching out. "Let me know if you need to talk. I can't imagine how tough this is for you. I know this has been difficult for everyone."
"Sounds like it's been most difficult for Bellamy." Echo says, and for the first time, Clarke thinks she can hear sadness in her tone. "Thanks, Clarke. Don't worry about me. I guess I'll probably talk to Hope about it." She smiles faintly. "Not about him changing his mind – I understand that has to be top secret. But about – the rest."
"Yeah. That could be a good idea." Clarke keeps her voice level. This is not the time for asking just how much, exactly, Echo shares with Hope these days.
Echo nods again, brisker. With a sense of finality, perhaps. "Thank you for stopping by. Give Bellamy my best wishes."
"I will do." Clarke gets to her feet, understanding that this is her cue to leave. "Take care, Echo."
"You too. Take care of him and remember to take care of yourself." A loud swallow. Echo continues in a voice rather shakier than Clarke has heard her use before. "And – well done. Well done for having the patience to get through to him. No one else could have seen him through this."
No one else could have seen him through this.
Is that Echo conceding defeat?
No. Of course it isn't. Love and war are not at all the same thing – even if, in Clarke's experience, the human race has a frustrating habit of tangling the two together.
Maybe it's Echo acknowledging that times have changed. That love is complicated and messy and that three years in space is not the same as three months on Etherea or even three weeks on Sanctum.
Maybe it's just two sad women brought together by loving the same broken man.
…...
Bellamy feels almost confident, as he knocks on Octavia's door this morning. He's getting the hang of love again now, he thinks. Not just that kind of inescapable love he feels for Clarke that broke through the fog of Etherea and made him feel corrupted, somehow, in the early days after the wedding when he was still set on being a Disciple. But the warm, willing, chosen kind of love.
The sort of love that makes real life worthwhile.
To be clear, he's pretty sure he feels both kinds for Clarke. He's just working up to forgiving himself far enough to embrace it. He sort of feels allowed to love his sister again, because she's blood. But Clarke is the wife who somehow stood by him even when he would have left her for dead in the name of the Shepherd, and that feels like a hell of a debt to repay.
He brushes that thought aside. This is not the time or the place – and he's getting a little better at taking control of his thoughts like this, now the fog is clearing.
His sister opens the door and smiles. She actually full on smiles at him, and if Bellamy wasn't already convinced that choosing peace over transcendence was the right choice, he thinks that would be enough to strengthen his resolve.
"Hey, O. Is this a good time to visit?" He asks. He's practised that simple line in his head a thousand times on the walk over here, it feels like.
"Bell. Hey, come on in."
He does as she suggests. He follows her down the hallway, into the small living room, takes a seat. He hasn't spoken since that greeting, but he doesn't think it sounds like the most uncomfortable silence in the world.
He would know. He had his fair share of horrific quietness at the breakfast table when he first married Clarke.
"How are you doing?" Octavia asks, settling into a chair herself.
"Pretty good." He says, and honestly, it's not that far off being the truth. "Here. I brought you something. It's silly but – here." He hands the drawing over.
She takes it from him with slow hands, her brows creased thoughtfully. "You did this? I didn't know you were into drawing."
He nods eagerly. This is a conversation he feels almost equipped to face, actually. If they stick with drawing they might be alright.
"Yeah. I've gotten very into it since I moved in with Clarke and Madi. You know they both like it, so we sit and draw together in the evenings."
"That sounds nice." Octavia offers, encouraging.
"Yeah. It's fun. We chat about what we're drawing and have a laugh together. And it's peaceful, too. It was Clarke first got me into it." He swallows, gathers his courage. "She thought it might help me with – with processing, I guess. Working through how I was feeling about Etherea and the wedding and everything. She thought it might be... healthy."
"You mean she thought it might be a kind of therapy." Octavia says knowingly.
He swallows again, nods once. He never thought he'd see the day when he and his sister discussed his mental health openly like this. A lot has changed, since he watched her disappear into that cloud of green.
"Is it working?" She asks gently.
He nods rather more genuinely this time. "Yeah. It's great. We've been talking a lot about what happened while we draw. It's helping me make sense of it."
"That's really great, Bellamy. You seem more relaxed." She offers brightly.
"Yeah." He takes a steadying breath. "It's not just that, O. I've got some news to tell you and it mustn't go beyond this room."
She nods, eyes serious.
"I'm not working for Cadogan and transcendence any more. I'm trying to help Clarke find a peaceful solution for everyone."
"No last war?"
"No last war." He agrees firmly.
"That's great, big brother. I'm proud of you."
His jaw almost hits the floor. Chatting about therapy was one thing, but I'm proud of you? "Thanks, O."
She smiles slightly. "I guess Clarke's over the moon that – you know. That you're back."
He laughs stiffly. "Clarke seems set on convincing me I never went anywhere. I think she's trying to make up for – for Bardo. She hasn't forgiven herself yet for reacting so badly to the shock."
Octavia snorts without humour. "Typical Clarke. You'll talk her round, right? You'll take care of her. You'll show her she's allowed to forgive herself."
"I'm trying." He agrees at once.
Silence falls. He lets it. He doesn't know whether this is silence that tells him his visit is nearly over, or simply silence that tells him his sister is lost for words. He's not so good at reading her, still. He needs more practice, more visits like this.
"I'm sorry." Octavia says at length. "I'm sorry that I -"
"It's OK." He says at once, because he always will.
"No. It's not. Let me say this, Bellamy." She takes a shaky breath. "Every time I screw up, you forgive me like it's nothing. All my life you've been letting me chip away at your soul and I'm worried at this rate there'll be nothing left. I was awful to you that day, Bellamy. You're my brother. I should have loved you and trusted you'd come back to me, not made you feel more alone."
"I forgive you." He says, but he tries to weight the words to show he's not only saying it on reflex. "I betrayed you. It made sense that you were angry and upset. And – I guess I've learnt first hand from living with Clarke how shocking and frightening that was for you guys. So I'm sorry for my part, too."
"I forgive you." She passes the words back to him in turn, firm and with conviction.
Another beat of quiet. Bellamy's still taking stock, somewhat shocked that conversation just happened. He and his sister have always had a complicated relationship. He's counting this as progress, that much is certain.
"What can I do to help?" Octavia asks softly.
"We don't know yet. I'm seeing what I can figure out from the inside. Clarke meets with Indra and Cadogan a lot about the alliance. I guess we're just... biding our time. Hoping for the best. Hoping to come up with something." He admits.
"Sounds like a plan." She says brightly. "Honestly, it's a better plan than us being on different sides and you wanting to fight a war and become the light."
He laughs, a little hysterical. "You can say that again."
"Levitt would help you, if there's anything he can do. He's already helped me over his own people before now. If you want company as an inside man reach out to him."
Bellamy nods. "I was wondering that. I hear he's a guy who values love." He dares to tease.
Octavia grins. Another silence. He wonders if it will always be like this between them, now. Whether the conversation will lurch along, effortful but worth it. Or whether maybe they'll learn to chat again as the fog clears further.
"You want to stay for a bit?" Octavia asks suddenly. "I can fix us a snack and tell you some stories about Hope on Skyring?"
"I just ate breakfast." Bellamy says, defensive, even though he knows this offer of hospitality is not really about food.
Octavia's face falls. He tries again.
"I'd like to hear more about Skyring." He offers. "I guess – maybe it would do both of us good to share our stories with each other. We've missed out on a lot of time together since we left the Ark."
"Maybe the universe is trying to balance it out. We did spend those years on the Ark living in each other's pockets." She jokes.
He laughs a little, because he knows he's supposed to. "Was Hope a cute kid?"
That's it. That's the magic question, it seems. That's all it takes for Octavia to rattle on nostalgically for a good half an hour.
He really enjoys it. Partly because he's missed his sister, partly because funny stories about sweet kids are intrinsically entertaining. But largely because he knows Octavia's world revolves around Hope, now – in much the same way his used to revolve around her – and it's pretty awesome to see his baby sister all grown up.
He's riding high on a wave of optimism, when he leaves Octavia's place. Life isn't perfect today – far from it. But he can see good things in the future, bright light on the horizon. He's making a start on healing the most important relationships in his life, and along the way he thinks he might be starting to figure out the importance of healing himself.
So that's why he gathers his courage and goes to see Jackson.
…...
Bellamy's had a good week – and that's a bit of a noteworthy development, given his life story.
He's been to see Jackson twice. Both times he found it difficult to talk, didn't get a whole lot done. But apparently that's normal, and he should be proud of himself for sticking at it.
By which he means Clarke is proud of him for sticking at it, and that makes him feel warm inside.
There have been other good news stories, too. He's spoken to Doucette again, had another one of those carefully casual conversations about nothing which happened to include a suggestion that peace is the most important aspect of transcendence. And Doucette didn't seem to take exception to that so, once again, Bellamy thinks they're making some progress. At this rate, they might be able to work towards a more moderate definition of what it is to be a Disciple, he hopes.
The best things about this surprisingly good week? Clarke and Madi, of course. Madi seems to have totally forgotten she ever found him disappointing and instead started grilling him for stories of the time he spent with Clarke and the hundred back on Earth.
And Clarke herself? She's simply wonderful.
He doesn't know how else to describe the strength and good-humour with which she has stood by him through this, the conviction with which she has praised him for persevering with his sessions with Jackson. He can't believe how far they have come from that hateful conversation on Bardo. When they were first presented with this marriage, he knows neither of them was grateful to be forced into the arrangement. But now he thinks it's incredibly lucky that they found themselves with the time and space to process their feelings and work on forgiving each other.
He finds it interesting, too, to compare Clarke's reaction with Octavia's since he had that proper chat with her earlier in the week. His sometimes challenging little sister has exchanged apologies and forgiveness with him now – but she didn't do that until after he'd turned away from transcendence. And compared with that, he cannot help but feel even more grateful to Clarke for having his back even before he was ready to work with her once more. It really speaks to the depths of her care and patience and compassion, he thinks.
In short, it makes him even more tempted to love her again.
He's not there yet. He's still getting his head clear, letting his heart warm up to human contact again. And he thinks he's going to have to do some work on forgiving himself for turning against his friends and family before he allows himself to love anyone, really. He's still struggling with thoughts about the implicit selfishness of love.
But Clarke's love really does seem a more selfless thing.
"Bellamy?"
He jumps a little in his seat. He honestly didn't hear Clarke walk into the living room until she spoke, then. His concentration is still not what it used to be.
"Hey. Sorry. Yeah." He gabbles, less than coherent.
She doesn't say anything, and he's glad of it. She simply sinks onto the couch at his side and tucks a hand beneath his arm, sort of half-hugging his bicep into her embrace. It's comfortable – and comforting – so he relaxes a little and leans into her in turn.
"How was Indra?" He asks. That's where she's just been.
"She's well, more or less." Clarke says, tone level. "It's the waiting, isn't it? You know Indra, she's brave as anything. But I think even she is feeling the tension of sitting here waiting for Cadogan to play his next move."
"I wish we had some way to take the challenge to him. Some peaceful way." Bellamy offers.
"I know what you mean. I really just want him to go back into cryo – he's aging quickly compared to us."
"Yeah. They all are. Doucette was saying this has been four years for them, now."
"But he won't hear of it. He's desperate to stay awake and have his last war. He looks more fanatical than ever." Clarke shrugs, turns it into something of a snuggle deeper into this unusual hug.
Screw it. He gives up on the odd arm-cuddle, tugs his arm from her embrace to wrap it around her shoulders instead. He wants a proper hug from his wife, thank you very much. None of this half-hearted crap.
"Maybe it's good that he's awake and – and looking a little crazy. Maybe he'll push too hard and make a mistake we can make something out of." Bellamy suggests. After all, he and Clarke both know better than anyone how much pressure can twist human behaviour.
"Maybe." Clarke agrees in words, and yet he cannot help but feel that she sounds distinctly unconvinced in the tone of her voice.
"We'll figure it out." He tells her bracingly. That's his role, isn't it? To show her there's still hope? To remind her to keep breathing? "You want to take some drawing time?"
"Maybe in a minute. There's something I wanted to talk to you about first."
"This sounds serious." He tries to tease, but it comes out sounding half-frantic, he fears.
"It is – but in a good way, I promise. I've been thinking we should invite Murphy and Emori over for supper."
He frowns. He can see that this is in fact serious – even a friendly invitation comes with risks when they're trying to design a bloodless coup beneath the radar.
"Do you really think that's a good idea?" He asks. "We'd have to hide the truth about – about me. And last thing I checked Murphy was ready to help Josephine. You sure you're up for this?"
"I think it's worth it." She says, because of course she does. She's Clarke Griffin. She's probably been analysing the pros and cons of this all week, he thinks affectionately.
"How do you mean?"
"I mean – it'll be really good for you." She says softly. "We've agreed one of the reasons you were struggling is that you were so isolated on Etherea but then we've done hardly anything to get you socialising more. I'm sorry, we should have done something like this sooner. But this kind of thing could be great for you. Emori was decent to you all along, right? And Murphy loves you even if he's an ass sometimes. They're close with Madi since we went to Bardo, too. I think this is the place to start."
He hesitates, considers her explanation for a moment. She used the word we an awful lot there, and he thinks that's interesting. Last he checked, it was him she was actually talking about.
He quite likes the idea that she considers them a package deal, these days.
Maybe that's what makes him buy into it. He can see her point – some more social interaction would probably do him good, but honestly it sounds exhausting and frightening. There's a reason he hasn't adopted the habit of wandering round the village chatting with acquaintances, or stopping by the bar to have a drink with Miller. But if Clarke is showing she will be by his side, he's willing to give her idea a try.
This really does put those years she spent with Madi during Praimfaya in perspective, doesn't it? Sure, she was physically safer than he was on Etherea. But he's got a newfound sympathy for how hard it must have been to have her old friends walk straight back into her life again.
"Let's try it." He says quietly.
"We don't have to if you're not ready." She rushes to assure him.
"I want to. I trust your judgement." He tells her honestly. "And I figure it will give Madi something to get excited about if nothing else."
She laughs lightly. He squeezes her a little tighter, feels her wrap an arm snug around his waist.
It's good to remember what happiness feels like.
a/n Thanks for reading!