a/n Huge thanks to everyone who has said they're enjoying this fic, and to Stormkpr for betaing. Happy reading!
Content note: addiction.
Bellamy knows that leaving Clarke behind in Arkadia will be difficult. But it won't be the hardest thing he's ever done – it doesn't have the same uncertainty as his journey to look for Octavia, for example. And he knows that they'll be reunited when Abby is well, and knows that his relationship with Clarke is solid and steady, albeit undefined.
There's one thing that's really worrying him, though. He's not sure how she'll cope here without him. Arkadia is overcrowded just as Polis is overcrowded, and here too she will be a leader with all eyes upon her. At least she'll have more of her friends from the hundred here and fewer strangers, he supposes.
All the same, he's concerned. He can't help but fear that she'll try to bottle it all up again, try to convince the world she's holding it together when she's breaking inside.
He puts off the moment they will have to say goodbye as long as possible. He stays the night at Arkadia, because there's no way the rover will get all the way back to Polis tonight. He therefore sleeps curled up with Clarke on a spare med bay cot, while Madi takes the next one along. One of these days, he swears, he and Clarke will have the time and privacy to do more than simply spoon and sleep.
That said, spooning and sleeping with Clarke is fast becoming his favourite thing.
When the morning comes, he runs a quick errand. He tells Monty to make sure there's a good batch of moonshine ready for the day they eventually settle back out on the ground. He needs to be able to get that drink with Clarke, after all.
Monty is not impressed – he even seems a little insulted, actually, and makes it quite clear that he was already planning to do just that. Bellamy wonders about hanging around a few moments and asking about chickens, too.
No. He needs to leave. And he needs to stop procrastinating.
He packs the rover. It takes seconds – he only has his small pack. He checks the battery, checks the tyres, checks everything he can. He sneaks in one last unnecessary delay, dashing to see Jasper and procuring some more shampoo for Clarke.
He really needs to stop putting this off, now.
He finds Clarke in med bay, watching over her mother.
"How is she?" He asks softly.
Clarke jumps a little, notices his presence. "About the same. Are you leaving now?"
He nods heavily.
"Let me walk you to the rover." She offers, getting to her feet.
He wonders about telling her it's not necessary. He knows his way around here, thank you very much. But he thinks maybe they both need this – the satisfaction of a proper goodbye. He therefore agrees to her suggestion, waits a moment while she instructs Madi to sit tight and go nowhere for the few minutes she will be gone.
And then they start walking down the corridor together.
He expects a heavy silence, fitting with the sombre mood of the farewell. But that's not what happens at all, in the end. He should have known better than to underestimate Clarke – she's talking away as if desperate to get all her words out before he leaves.
"Don't worry about me. Really. I've got Madi and my mum and at least Arkadia is home. And I can talk to you on that silent radio if I need help staying sane – we decided that wasn't too crazy, right?"
He laughs a little, reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. "That's definitely OK. I know I'll be calling you to talk to myself whenever things get tough in Polis."
"Are you sure you'll be OK there? Running things and having to work with your sister?"
"I think so. We've come a long way, this last month. And I'm not like you, Clarke. If I need to let off steam I'll go train with O or something. I won't bottle it up and pretend I'm OK."
She sighs. "You're saying I need to find someone to train with."
"No. I'm saying you need to find a minute to draw with those pencils I brought back for you." He says pointedly.
"You're probably right. Thanks for those, Bellamy."
"No problem." He reaches into his pocket, feeling rather less nervous and awkward than he remembers feeling the first time he got her a gift. "Here. More shampoo. I figure you must be running low by now."
Her eyes light up. "Thank you. This is – thanks. I love this stuff."
He loves it, too. Or at least he loves the smell of it on her hair, the sense that there is something connecting them even when they're apart. Most of all he loves to imagine her thinking of him every time she uses it.
Yeah, thinking of Clarke in the shower isn't going to make saying goodbye any easier.
She continues, still apparently eager to make up for the conversations they won't be able to have in the coming weeks.
"I never get you anything. I'm sorry. I should -"
"Don't worry about it. Aren't you getting me chickens when we find our new home?"
She laughs, but it's not truly a relaxed sound. He gets the sense she's laughing because he made a joke rather than because she's actually amused.
He tries again. He figures he could try to handle her concern a little more honestly. "You give me things all the time, just not pencils and shampoo. Forgiveness. Support. Self worth."
It's the biggest confession he's ever made to her, and he waits with baited breath for her response.
"You, too." She says simply. But she leans into his side as she says it, gives him an odd sort of half-hug as they walk.
He knows Clarke well enough to take that for the declaration of love it is.
They're at the hangar bay, now. It's time. He's really leaving. He covers the last few paces to the rover, stands awkwardly by the driver's side door with his hands clasped at his hips. He's so tempted to kiss her, in this moment. It feels like he's waited so long to do that. But he doesn't want this to be the day they take that step – not while she's worried about her mother, and when they're about to be parted. He wants their first kiss to be a celebration of new beginnings, not part of a solemn goodbye.
"You sure everything will be OK in Polis? I trust you and Octavia. Of course I do. But it's a lot, and Jackson will have his hands full with -"
"Maybe I'll help him. I did spend a lot of the first week after the death wave cleaning up vomit." He interrupts her smoothly, forcing his face into a grin to try to lift her spirits.
It works. She breaks into a tired smile, gives a grudging laugh. And she stops her nervous babbling, so that's progress.
She's the one who takes the step forward and initiates the hug. That's his Clarke – however tough the going gets, she's always got the strength of character to do what needs to be done. And right now, he needs to be sent on his way. He hugs her back, hard, nuzzles into her neck, knits his fingers through her hair. This isn't goodbye forever, but it's goodbye for now, and he wants a happy memory to take with him.
They pull apart and just look at each other for a moment. He compromises with himself on the kissing question, bends to press his lips softly to her cheek. That's what they do when they're finding it difficult to say goodbye – he remembers as much from the day she left him after Mount Weather.
"We'll meet again." She tells him, more declaration than prayer.
"Damn right we will. Take care of yourself."
"You, too."
He gets in the rover. He starts the engine. He drives out the door, into the wasteland beyond.
And as he looks back in his mirror, he can see a sight that brings tears to his eyes. Because there in the hangar bay, for all the long minutes until he's out of sight, Clarke stands waving. Straight-laced Clarke Griffin, leader of the human race, waving the overzealous wave of an upset child, trying to put a brave face on whilst watching someone she loves go away.
…...
Clarke watches her mother become gradually more lucid in the days that follow, as her plan to guide her carefully through detox appears to work, more or less.
For the first few days, Clarke tries not to answer her mother's questions in too much detail. Not because she wants to lie to her or avoid the difficult questions, as such. But more because Abby needs to focus wholeheartedly on her recovery right now. So Clarke answers briefly but honestly a few questions about how she came to be here, how the Polis bunker is faring, and what the world looks like outside. But she leaves it at that.
It's when Clarke has been in Arkadia a week that she decides her mother is ready for one crucial introduction.
"How are you feeling this morning, Mum?" She asks, testing the waters.
"Much better, thank you, honey." The answer has been the same every day this week, but Clarke thinks it might be almost true, one of these days.
"That's good. There's -"
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry to put you to all this trouble, Clarke. I'm sorry."
Clarke sighs. That has been a common refrain, too. And really, she doesn't see what the point is of her mother dwelling on her guilt – the damage is done now, and all she can do is move forwards and try to do better.
But she senses that this is a time more for sympathy than sharp pragmatism, so she smiles carefully. This is every bit as exhausting as acting calm and in control in Polis ever was. At least she has those precious pencils, a chance to escape into drawing after Madi and her mother are asleep each night.
"It's OK, Mum. I've told you – I forgive you. But there's someone important I want you to meet." She presses on, because she knows from personal experience that stewing in guilt does no one any good.
With that, she beckons Madi over to the bedside. And the young girl runs over with quite some enthusiasm, having been looking forward to meeting Abby ever since she heard of her existence in Clarke's stories.
Clarke rather wonders how much Madi understands about this addiction. She's seen a lot of the tough side of life in her six years, but she thinks this is probably a new experience. Clarke has tried to explain it in age-appropriate terms, cautioning that taking too much medicine or taking it for a long time can be dangerous, but she hasn't the Trig or the experience with children to know how to explain the concept of craving.
"I'm Madi. You're Abby." The girl introduces herself, accurately but not necessarily helpfully. Clarke is proud of her, though, for having a go at speaking in English.
"This is Madi." Clarke echoes. "I've been taking care of her since she lost her parents."
"Clarke's my mum now." Madi says, matter of fact.
Clarke blinks, eyes filling with shocked, happy tears. Madi has never come straight out and said it like that before, and it feels so good to hear her say it. It feels like hope, and family, and like something good has come out of the end of the world after all.
She collects herself. She hugs her daughter tight, resolves that making a big scene is probably not what Madi wants for this moment. And then she decides how to go about continuing the conversation with her mother.
Abby beats her to it, though.
"Now Clarke's your mum I guess I'm your grandma. If you want me to be, of course." She mutters, flustered. Clarke's not sure whether it's emotion or her ongoing detox that is causing her to struggle for calm, in this moment.
Clarke translates Abby's words. Madi nods, considering. "Maybe. Maybe – once we've hung out together and we know each other." The child suggests simply.
Clarke translates back again. Her mother nods, smiling. Madi nods, grinning widely.
It's a pretty odd little family, but Clarke wouldn't ask for a different one. She only wishes Bellamy could be in his rightful place at her side, in this moment.
…...
Bellamy can understand why Clarke was finding this so tough.
He doesn't have a grieving small child to care for, and does have the support of his sister to train with when he needs to let off steam or chat to when something is on his mind. Best of all, he has the radio, and the unspoken promise of a future with Clarke when all this is over.
And yet he's still struggling, in his own way.
He's different from Clarke, so he doesn't close himself off from the people around him like she did last month. He gets angry and frustrated instead, wound ever tighter, until he's spending as many hours a day as he can spare on working out alone or training with Octavia. He can feel it happening, can feel the tension building, but there's not much he can do other than keep busy and hope for the best. Surely he won't be stuck in this overcrowded bunker full of people and stressful situations forever?
He almost snaps when he hears from Indra that an Azgeda delegation has arrived from their bunker. He just can't deal with that, right now. He's never met an Azgeda warrior he liked, with the exception of the few precious minutes he spent cooperating with Roan to save Clarke, that day they drove to the island. But he hasn't forgotten that it was Azgeda warriors who stole the hydrazine that day, nor that Echo betrayed him at Mount Weather. And he knows this is the kind of blinkered angry us-and-them thinking that led to the Trikru massacre, yet somehow in this moment his temper is too short to truly care.
But then Roan walks straight into the office, and simply starts speaking.
"Bellamy. Good to see you made it. You got back here in time after all?"
He blinks. Roan is speaking as if they are friends, or at least cordial acquaintances. "Something like that." He mutters.
"That's good. And how's Clarke?"
"Don't know. She's not here." He mutters tersely.
"She's not?"
"No. She's in Arkadia with her sick mother." He presumes Clarke would want Roan to know that much – they are pretty good friends, to Bellamy's constant annoyance. But he's not about to go sharing more than that.
"Sick? Not serious, I hope?"
"Clarke's pretty confident she'll be OK."
Roan nods. Bellamy nods right back at him. He can do imposing silence every bit as well as the Azgeda king, thank you very much.
But Roan doesn't choose to stay silent for long. "So she left you and Indra in charge here?"
"More or less." Bellamy offers, torn between instinctively wanting to do his duty well but also wishing he could just laugh in Roan's face. He's a very mature guy when somewhat jealous and threatened, it turns out.
"Great. Then I'm sure you can tell me what the plan is. What's our exit strategy? Where are we moving our people to? On the trek here we saw nothing but wasteland."
"The land round here is desert." Bellamy confirms heavily. But at least this is now a conversation that is truly about something, and that makes it easier to meet Roan half way, he is finding. "We're still working on a plan. Our projections show that Shallow Valley has almost certainly survived, but we haven't been able to send a team out to check that yet."
"You haven't sent a team out yet?" Roan asks, incredulous. "There's land out there we could all be living on, and you haven't got round to driving to check it out?"
"It's not as simple as that." He snaps, defensive. "We're stretched thin here. Raven and Miller and I are the only people here that can drive the rover, and we're all needed here. And at Arkadia -"
"I know, Bellamy. I know." Roan sinks heavily into a chair uninvited, starts rubbing at his temples. "You're doing your best. We all are. My people are growing restless. I've got a delegation standing outside, we've just walked the whole way here. And I know you can imagine the look on Echo's face when I walk back out there and tell them we've got nothing."
Bellamy snorts. The way he sees it, that's Roan's problem, not his. If Roan was more personable, didn't rub people up the wrong way, maybe he wouldn't be facing dissent every other day. Here in the bunker, for example, Bellamy likes to think he's doing a rather good job of keeping thousands of relative strangers civil to each other.
Maybe it's time to extend the hand of friendship a little further.
"Clarke really believes in the Shallow Valley solution and so do I. I'll be going to check it out as soon as I can be spared here."
Roan nods carefully. "I'm not saying you're not doing important work here, Bellamy. I might not say it very often, but you're a competent man. But is it really so essential that it can't wait a day? Couldn't you take just a few hours off tomorrow or the next day to go check out that Valley?"
Bellamy thinks about that for a moment. He's desperate to get out of here, is bored out of his mind as well as sick of being cooped up. But he's determined to do a good job of leading these people. He wants to make Clarke proud – and maybe he wants to be able to feel proud of himself, too.
It's a tough one. His heart is urging him to take Roan's suggestion, to make a run for it at dawn tomorrow. He could always tell the rest of his allies that he was pressured by Azgeda – which is more or less the truth.
But his head is reminding him to be sensible and cautious, and to stick here so he knows everything is under control.
"I'll give it serious thought." He tells Roan in the end.
"You're starting to sound like Clarke." Roan teases.
Bellamy stiffens a little. Sure, this has been a largely friendly conversation. But he's not sure he's ready for teasing, just yet. He still finds Roan a little too pally with Clarke, all things considered.
No. That's silly, he tells himself. If he's going to use his sense to think rationally about the mission to Shallow Valley, he ought to employ logic when considering this, too. And he knows that there's no way Clarke is seriously interested in Roan, no way the two of them are going to get together right in front of his nose. He has a silent much-loved radio and bunch of heartfelt compliments ringing in his ears to remind him otherwise.
He has a future with Clarke – it's as simple as that. Or at least, he does if only he can go scout out Shallow Valley.
"Maybe you're right." Bellamy says easily, leaning back in his chair. "But we both know Clarke would have come up with some third option by now. Some clever scheme to check Shallow Valley out that neither of us has thought of yet. Drones or something."
Roan snorts. "You're probably right. She's exhausting."
Bellamy bristles. "She's worth the effort, though."
"I'll have to take your word for that. I wouldn't know." Roan says carefully, a thin smirk about his lips.
Bellamy laughs warmly, decides to go crazy and open a ration bar or two to share with Roan. Perhaps they're not the best of friends, quite yet. But for the first time in his life, he truly believes that they are not enemies, nor even rivals.
…...
Clarke almost starts to relax, as her mother heals as hoped, and as Madi becomes more cheerful and outspoken. In many ways she is more comfortable here than she was in Polis. She misses her friends there, of course, and Bellamy most of all. But here she has her mother and daughter, as well as some of her closest friends from the hundred.
She spends a lot of time with Monty, Jasper and Harper. There are no more incidents with foam in the Chancellor's office, but she does get home from a council meeting one day to find her possessions are all upside down. She tries to take it in good spirit, and Madi at least thinks it is all great fun.
And it's good to see Jasper laughing again, so she rolls with it.
She does have more serious conversations with her friends too, though. Jasper is helping the chemistry team to work on purifying water and enriching soil. Monty is particularly involved in the fertiliser project, and has great plans to use algae to turn the wasteland green again.
But today, Clarke wants to ask him about something else.
"Do we have any drones, Monty?" She asks, the moment she is inside his workshop.
He doesn't look surprised. He's used to her asking unexpected questions by now, she supposes. "No. Why do you want drones?" He simply asks.
"To go check out Shallow Valley. If we can't spare anyone to go, sending an unmanned drone seems like the obvious answer."
Monty nods, frowning. "You're right of course. But we don't have any, or the parts to make any. We took apart the drones from Becca's lab to patch things up here after the fire."
Yes. She's not surprised about that. It's a shame, but not exactly a shock.
"Anything else you can think of?" She asks the question, already moving on from her disappointment. She's learnt that's what you have to do, on the ground.
Monty hesitates a moment. He frowns ever deeper. And then his face clears and he nods sagely.
"Yes. Just one idea."
"Go on." She prompts him, a little impatient.
"You could just go. You could just take a rover and drive there. I know you're needed here, I get it. But I'm sure we could cope without you for one or two days. And you said yourself that your mum is doing much better. Do you think she's ready to help Kane and Jaha hold things steady here while you're gone?"
Clarke doesn't like this at all. She doesn't like the way that Monty has taken the silly idea of a spontaneous drive out into the wild, and made it sound sensible and rational and justifiable. She doesn't like it because it's dangerous, because she can feel herself on the verge of saying yes.
Then Monty seals the deal.
"You could leave Madi here. She'd be perfectly safe, and that way you don't have to worry about taking her into a sandstorm or whatever's waiting out there. It might be good for your mum to look after her for a couple of days, have a sense of purpose again. And you know I'll keep an eye on her too."
For once in her life, Clarke takes something for herself. She takes that suggestion of a precious break, a couple of days driving around in the outside world, and seizes it with both hands.
And anyway, isn't it for her people too? Isn't she hoping to find them a new home along the way?
"Yes. You're right, Monty. That's a great idea."
He just nods, calm and cheerful as always. It's as if he's saying he already knew it was a great idea, thank you very much.
She'll go tomorrow. That's what she decides, as she walks from Monty's workshop back to her mother's room. There's no reason not to go tomorrow. It's not as if she has a lot of luggage to prepare, and her people do need to find a home as soon as possible.
She makes time for one small stop, along the way down the halls. She finds a moment's privacy in a storage closet in med bay, takes her precious radio from her pack. The decision to head for Shallow Valley tomorrow feels like a big one, so she needs to tell Bellamy. She knows he won't be able to hear her, but it just feels like the right thing to do. After all, they share everything that matters, these days.
…...
Bellamy has more or less already made the decision by the time he talks to his sister. But he wants to speak to her all the same, partly because he really does want her input, but mostly because he will feel better about his choice if he has talked it over with her. It will make him feel less like it's a spontaneous moment of selfishness, he hopes, and more like it's a sensible plan.
"I'm thinking of taking a rover to check out Shallow Valley tomorrow." He says idly, as they sit in the office together. He tries to give it the air of a passing fancy rather than a desperate desire, but he's not sure he succeeds.
"You mean you've already decided, but you need me to tell you you're allowed to go." She corrects him gently.
He nods, stiff, because that sounds about right.
"I won't tell you that." Octavia says firmly.
He sighs, heart sinking. He really wants to go. And it'll be useful, damn it. It's not just that he's sick of being trapped in this bunker. He's also trying to save his people here.
But it seems Octavia is not done speaking yet. "I won't tell you that, because it's not my place to tell you that." She continues. "Clarke left you in charge here because she trusts your judgement. You can ask my opinion if you want, but I'm not about to give you permission. I thought you wanted to learn to live your own life?" She asks pointedly.
He nods. She's right. If he had a little more confidence in his own judgement, he'd have left by now. But he lost that confidence when he followed Pike. And he's still struggling with the idea that he might be allowed to make choices without reference to his sister or his mother, somehow.
He gathers his thoughts, has a go at speaking.
"OK. Yeah. I think this is the right call, and I plan to go. But I want to hear your thoughts first in case there's something I've not thought of." That sounds about right, he decides, proud of himself. That acknowledges that he doesn't always judge things perfectly, whilst still stating his case.
Octavia simply grins at him, incongruously happy for a crowded grey concrete hole in the ground, he thinks.
"Go for it. I think it's a great idea. Stay safe out there."
He grins back, proud of the two of them. They're doing pretty well, he thinks, considering everything life has thrown at them.
a/n Thanks for reading!