Another chapter! Thanks to Stormkpr for betaing, thanks to everyone who has commented, happy reading!
Clarke more or less has a plan, by the time she arrives at the President's office. Thinking on her feet – quite literally – has had to become part of her skill set in recent months.
Her plan is a simple one. She'll try to negotiate a peace deal with herself as a sort of sacrificial lamb. Mount Weather can have their bone marrow, as long as it's hers. She'll gladly give up her eggs, or her blood, if that's what it takes to keep her people safe and get those grounders freed.
She's thrown off-course a little when she arrives at the President's office and finds that he's not alone in there. His son, Cage, is with him. And Clarke really doesn't like Cage – in fact, she dislikes him on a deeper and more instinctive level than she has ever disliked anyone in her life before, she's pretty sure. There's just something about him which makes her skin crawl, makes her want to run and hide behind Bellamy's broad shoulders. She's pretty sure Cage is the only person capable of making her feel so weak and pathetic, and she hates the way he brings out those dark, well-hidden corners of her personality.
Not that she lets him see that, of course. She's not about to let on that he makes her so uncomfortable. She's determined to put a brave face on this and look him in the eye without flinching like the capable leader she is.
"President Wallace. Mr Wallace." She greets them both with a respectful nod. "We need to talk."
It is Cage who speaks up first – as if he has lost all respect for his father's rule, she rather thinks. "If this is about that boyfriend of yours, he'll be home in time for dinner." He drawls.
Clarke stiffens. Of course these men think she cannot think beyond her lover. "It's not that – but I'm happy to hear he's safe. This is about your blood treatments and my bone marrow. I have a proposal for you."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Cage spits at once.
The president, on the other hand, is nodding slowly. "Please continue, Clarke."
Just that. Please continue. Neither confirming nor denying what she has learnt. But implicitly admitting to knowing everything, Clarke thinks, by not arguing back. Not that she's surprised, of course – it's a pretty logical conclusion to draw, that the President knows what is going on beneath his very nose.
"I know you want our bone marrow." She states, bold, because there is no backing down now. "I know that's why you've been so generous in welcoming my people."
Now, it seems, the President does want to deny that. "We're not only welcoming you out of selfishness, Clarke. Our offer of protection and hospitality is genuine. It's simply a fortunate coincidence that you might be able to help us."
"Mr President, sir." She addresses him, dancing right on the edge of impertinence. "I think these negotiations will go better if we agree not to lie to each other. We all know why I'm here – and why the rest of my people are so well-fed downstairs." She takes a deep breath. "My suggestion is simple. Don't take any marrow from them, or any blood or eggs or sperm. Don't take anything from them. And let the grounders go free. If you do that, I'll give you whatever you want. Take the bone marrow from me – take my eggs too, if you want them."
He frowns at her. "Clarke, please – be sensible. You could never provide enough bone marrow to treat the whole of Mount Weather."
"I can treat a couple of people at a time. Once they have their transplants, in time they might be able to donate to others. And with time I'll heal and be able to donate again and -" She draws to a halt, shaking a little. She's signing her life away, here. She's volunteering to spend the rest of her life as a one-woman bone marrow farm.
But it's worth it, if that's the only way to protect her people.
It's Cage who speaks up next. Clarke is expecting him to argue, to rant, to be uselessly and ineffectually rude.
She's not expecting the path he chooses to take instead.
"You're prepared to give up so much for your people?" He asks, tone teasing. There's something eerie about that, Clarke thinks, with a strong sense of foreboding creeping up her spine.
But all the same, she nods resolutely.
"A pity they don't think so highly of you." Cage tells her with a frightening grin. "A pity they aren't in such a hurry to protect you. And a pity that Bellamy would never give himself up like this in your shoes. You know what he told me recently, Clarke? He told me he's only with you for the thrill of breaking the rules. He's with you because he knows your mother would be furious about it – a chance to stick it to the people in power. I bet he doesn't whisper that to you in bed at night, does he?"
Clarke swallows. She forces herself to take a deep breath, tries to ignore the way her lungs feel like knots in her chest.
She knows why Cage said that. It's an attempt to throw her off her game, to undermine her. To make her question herself and doubt her plan. He's trying to break her bonds with the people she loves and convince her they are not worth protecting.
Well – good luck to him. She's made of sterner stuff than that.
"Bellamy's a good actor." She tells him, firm – and only a little desperate. "You might have noticed that – we've figured out quite a lot about what goes on in this place, haven't we? More than you might expect a naïve young couple to notice." She says pointedly. "So I'm not surprised he said that. He told you what you wanted to hear. But I know the truth of my relationship with Bellamy better than you do, thank you very much."
There is a stunned silence. Cage seems to have run out of words, and not a moment too soon for Clarke's liking. The president is nodding slowly, and Clarke cannot entirely tell whether he is thinking deeply or wishing he could take a nap.
The first. It's the first. She learns that when he gestures her to a seat.
"Please sit down, Clarke. I believe we have a deal to negotiate."
…...
Bellamy enjoys being out above ground again more than he probably should. It's silly, he thinks, to feel a sense of homecoming when he walks out into the open air, feels the sun on his face, smells wet earth and rotting leaves, and hears the sound of birdsong.
It's silly, because last time he was in the forest, grounders were trying to kill him. Last time he was in the forest, he was crouched in a tunnel with Wells trying not to be blown sky high.
But all the same, it's good to be back here. He feels more of a personal connection with these woods than he does with Mount Weather. Although he has spent much the same amount of time in each, he built a home for himself and his friends at the dropship camp. Mount Weather isn't like that. It's the place he built a home with Clarke, yes, and that's obviously special to him. But he can never forget that he is surrounded by strangers who smile like friends but keep human beings captive in cages, at Mount Weather.
Hang on, though – is that really so different from what he did to Lincoln? And he was taken to Mount Weather against his will just as the hundred were sent onto the dropship against their will. And -
And really it's exhausting, to try to decide who is better or worse, more or less evil, in a situation like this. Really the choices people make are damn complicated.
That's about the most useful lesson he's learnt, since he came to Earth.
The newly-trained ground unit troops have a long walk through the woods. No one will tell them where they're going. Emerson knows, apparently – he's an old hand, and close with Cage. But Cage himself has not joined them today, and so Bellamy and Lovejoy and the others are just following foolishly through the forest.
He doesn't like feeling foolish, for the record. He's grown used to being something of a leader, since stowing away on that dropship, and it's odd to be simply following orders right now – most of all because he knows the forest better than any of these guards, he's pretty sure.
At last they slow to a stop. They take up a position in cover, behind an outcrop of rocks and concealed further by dense trees. They crouch there, clustered tightly around Emerson, and wait for their orders.
Bellamy hopes they're not going to be crouching here all day. The men who have no radiation resistance don't have unlimited oxygen, and he's grown pretty attached to Lovejoy in recent days. He wouldn't want him – or anyone else of these strange, two-faced people – to die a grim death from radiation exposure.
"There's an object of interest up ahead. About half a mile, in a clearing beyond the trees." Emerson tells them in a hurried whisper.
An object of interest. No kidding. Why the hell else would half a dozen ground troops be wandering around so far from home?
"What kind of object, sir?" Lovejoy asks.
"You'll see soon enough. Stay out of sight – we're expecting hostiles. We're to take as many photos as we can and gather intelligence discreetly. That's it. Nothing else – no engaging with the enemy."
Bellamy nods, but behind his placid agreement his thoughts are racing. What can be so interesting that they have been reminded not to engage three times over? Is this some large settlement of the grounders? But if so, why has it not been mapped before?
They set out in teams of two. Bellamy takes Lovejoy by the elbow and starts walking. He's not risking anyone else as his partner out here – Lovejoy is about the only one of these men he would actually trust to have his back. They've bonded over the joys and sorrows of raising a child, at least a little, and that makes Bellamy have some small faith in him. Apart from anything else, he knows Lovejoy wants to go home to his son in one piece tonight – and wants to be able to look him in the eye with a clear conscience when he gets through the door.
They creep through the undergrowth, slow and steady. They keep to the high ground as best they can, aware that the object of interest seems to be lying in some dip below them. They edge forward, right to the treeline, right to -
That's the Ark. It's the goddamn Ark.
It's a chunk of the Ark, at least. Alpha station. Bellamy would recognise it anywhere – didn't he spend his whole childhood instinctively hating anyone who lived in that particular station of the Ark?
What the hell is he supposed to say to Lovejoy?
He's saved worrying about that, in the end, by the other man speaking up of his own accord.
"They're your people, aren't they? Sky people?"
Bellamy nods at once. "We have to get closer. I have to see how many of them made it down here. We need to -"
Lovejoy reaches out to hold him back firmly. "No, Bellamy. You heard Emerson – stay out of sight and don't engage."
"We have to at least see. Please, Lovejoy. These are my people. Clarke's mum might be out there – or at least someone who can tell us whether she's dead or alive. Please." He begs, not ashamed to drop his dignity. It's worth humbling himself, if he can only go home today with news of Abby to give Clarke.
There are less selfishly personal reasons to get closer, too. He wants to know how many people survived the drop, how many doctors there are. He can see a few people wandering around even from this distance – enough to know there are survivors, but not enough to know anything more than that. And if there are a lot of survivors, and if there are many doctors or engineers or farmers, he figures that's worth knowing. He figures that puts them in a stronger position to negotiate with Mount Weather when the time comes.
Lovejoy loosens his hold, gives Bellamy a thoughtful sort of a look. "We can get close enough to see more. But we mustn't make contact." He swallows loudly. "I hope Clarke's mother is OK. A child shouldn't lose their parent so young."
Bellamy nods. He's sick of the way these Mount Weather folks treat Clarke as if she is so young and breakable, when he knows she is wise and strong beyond her years. But the point stands, he supposes. It sucks to lose a parent, no matter when it happens.
He would know.
Bellamy and Lovejoy edge forward, sticking to the long grass, crouching behind an outcrop of rocks. This is a better view. They're close enough, now, that when Bellamy looks through his binoculars – or better yet through the scope of his rifle – he can pick out individual people quite well.
It feels odd to be aiming a rifle at his own people, even if they are people he has not always seen eye to eye with. But he's only doing it so he can see them, he tells himself again and again and again.
He spots a couple of people he recognises from Factory station – more than he might expect to see amidst the wreckage of Alpha. Apparently they mixed people up when preparing to come down here.
He can only presume this was at least vaguely planned.
There are other people who are familiar to him, too. A guy he recognises as one of the high-up engineers. That kind young doctor who treated his mother not long before she was floated, and who was respectful even to a single mother from Factory station. And there, walking out of the Ark behind that doctor -
That's Abby. That's Clarke's mother. And she looks fit and healthy, barely a scratch on her.
Bellamy feels himself smile, broad and wide, even before he has quite finished taking stock of what this means. Abby survived. That means Clarke has a chance to see her again, to know they did not leave things eternally on such a sour note. It's good news on a broader front than that, too. Abby is a doctor – a good one – and should be well-placed to negotiate with Mount Weather about their intentions to steal bone marrow or sperm or whatever it might be.
In other words, this is the best news Bellamy has had all week.
No. That's not quite true. It ought to be true, because finding Abby alive is wonderful. But he has to admit, he still thinks the best news he has had all week was the news that Clarke loves him.
All the same, this is great news, and that's what matters.
"We have to get back to Mount Weather." Bellamy says at once.
Lovejoy frowns hard. "What? You wanted to get closer ten minutes ago. And now you want to head straight home?"
Bellamy nods, already moving back towards the trees. "Yeah. I know these people. I need to get back and report to Cage and President Wallace. I can tell them more about who's here so they can plan how to negotiate." He says carefully.
That's not quite what he's thinking, though. He's more thinking that he is armed to negotiate with Mount Weather, now. He's not entirely intending to help them argue against his own people.
Funny that he thinks of those Ark people as his people, despite everything. He's not sure why he feels such attachment to them, when he was protesting only two months ago that only the kids at the dropship meant anything to him. Is it because they feel somehow more his than the Mount Weather monsters who drain people of their blood? A sort of situation where the enemy of his enemy feels like his friend, perhaps? A hope that the Ark might support him and the hundred against Mount Weather? Or has he been swayed in the Ark's favour by seeing they did save some folks from Factory station in the wreckage of Alpha?
He fears it's something more dangerous than that, actually. He fears that he thinks of these people as his people because he's just seen Abby. Because the mother of the woman he loves is one of them, and therefore they have become family to him by extension even during their absence.
In other words, he suddenly feels a new sense of attachment to his mother in law.
He shakes himself. No point in worrying about that now. He can be introduced to her later – the councilwoman meeting the murderer her daughter is dating.
That's if they're still dating when all this is through, of course.
He quickens his pace. He marches back to the rendezvous point and informs Emerson that he will be returning to Mount Weather right away. He finds a new confidence rising up in his chest as he tells the other man that he has information the President will want to know right away, thank you very much, and that he intends to get on with heading home to share it.
The walk home feels at once longer and yet shorter than the journey out. On the one hand, he is full of nervous excitement at this sudden development. He's looking forward to sharing his news with Clarke and with the President. He's looking forward to securing his people's freedom and that of the grounders, hopefully.
Most of all he's looking forward to hugging Clarke tight and telling her that her mother is alive.
On the other hand, he cannot seem to walk quickly enough. He just wants to get back, damn it. He wants to get on with it. He wants to get everything neatly resolved so he can spend an evening cuddling with Clarke on the couch and telling her all about his day.
Hah. In his dreams. He knows the rest of the day is bound to be more complicated than that.
He arrives back at Mount Weather. He informs Emerson that he will be reporting to the President's office immediately, and Emerson makes no move to stop him. He almost looks intimidated by Bellamy's fierce confidence, actually.
Bellamy strides down the halls, listening to the sound of his boots striking the floor with every step. There's a sort of comfort to the rhythm as he walks, a steadiness which helps him to gather his thoughts. He's going to start by telling the President that the Ark has come down and that he has information. Then he will insist on taking some time to consult with Clarke before further negotiations. Then they will form a plan together – a well-considered one, just as Clarke likes it. He's trying his hardest not to be impulsive, here.
He arrives at the door of the President's office. He knocks firmly, and enters before the man within has even finished calling out in greeting.
And then he stops, abruptly, at the sight of Clarke.
Clarke is here. How is Clarke already here? Why is Clarke already here? Did something happen while he was gone? Has he -?
"Bellamy?" She asks at once, jumping to her feet and heading straight to his side. "Are you OK? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Not a ghost. Your mother." He gets out, still trying to keep up with this development.
Clarke is already here. Was she trying to negotiate without him? No – she wouldn't do that. They're a team, these days.
"My mum? You – what? You've seen her? She's alive?"
"I've seen her. She looks physically healthy." He confirms with a tight smile. He turns to Cage, now, as he continues to speak. "This object of interest we were sent to investigate. It's a fragment of the Ark, and there are survivors living in it. We need to negotiate with you, just as soon as -"
"Too late." Cage takes too much pleasure in telling him. "Clarke here already has it all sewn up. She's already told us she plans to donate all her bone marrow in exchange for your people living here under our protection."
"Bone marrow?" He asks, caught by surprise. Why are they discussing bone marrow specifically? Only this morning, he could swear they still had no idea what exactly Mount Weather wanted from them.
"Bone marrow. It's a long story." Clarke tells him tightly.
Yes. It does seem like a long story. As best as he can tell, she seems to have charged in here to negotiate alone – and decided to sacrifice herself entirely – while he was out for scarcely one day.
He's a little furious about that, all things considered.
He frowns, jaw tight, and wonders what to do. He can't let this continue. He's not about to watch Clarke throw her life away, however offended he might be that she has acted without him, today.
And yet, in its way, her extreme attempt at self-sacrifice gives him an idea.
"We're going to be renegotiating this deal." He says, firmly. That's not open for discussion – it's just a fact.
He helps himself to a chair and starts talking through his idea.
"We'll ask for volunteers to donate marrow. You've met some of our people, and you've seen Clarke volunteer today. You know I'm telling the truth when I say there will be plenty of volunteers. But each volunteer is only giving a small sample which will be safe for their health." He says, with a pointed look at Clarke. "In return, you won't just leave us alone. You won't just offer us some half-hearted protection. You'll share everything with us. Technology and resources and friendship. We've proven that our people and yours can be friends since you brought us here. And the same goes for the grounders – you'll be just as generous to them. Maybe you need to be more generous – you've been capturing their people for years."
There's a beat of silence. Bellamy's not sure whether it's good silence. He seriously hopes so – he's not tried to give a forceful speech like that since the dropship. He just hopes the idea behind it was strong enough to support his firm words.
And then, all at once, Clarke is clearing her throat and speaking up.
"You see?" She says, addressing Cage in a tone Bellamy cannot entirely read. See what?
"I beg your pardon?" Cage asks, in a tone which makes it quite clear he hates to beg anything from them.
"I'm not only with him for the sex or the status. Just like he's not only with me to take revenge on my mother. I hope you've learnt today not to take our partnership lightly." She says, pointed, but almost enjoying herself, Bellamy rather thinks. "You've heard our terms – they're as Bellamy just said. So write that up and we'll be back tomorrow to sign the deal."
With that, she gets to her feet. It's the most perfect display of her decisive and forceful nature, Bellamy thinks. He can really see, in this moment, why he found her so intimidating and enthralling when he first met her at the dropship. She simply strides straight out of there, ignoring the Wallaces' stunned looks, father and son alike.
She spares only a moment to reach out for Bellamy's hand as she goes.
He takes her hand, truly catches up to her side in just a couple of quick paces. The two of them together clear the door, and then start heading down the hall.
And despite the magnitude of the moment – despite the fact they just negotiated a successful peace deal, as far as Bellamy can tell – he finds that he is stuck on one rather particular thought.
"Cage told you what I said." He states. It's not a question, and he doesn't even pretend not to understand that reference Clarke just made.
She simply nods.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean -"
"I know. You said what you had to say. We're good."
She smiles a small smile. He smiles back as best he can, squeezes her hand lightly.
And then they keep walking home together.
…...
Clarke can't stop thinking about it.
She can't stop thinking about Bellamy striding into that office and saving her – not because she's a damsel in distress who needs a guy to save her, of course. But because the only way out she could see was to give herself up, and he walked straight in there and told her she didn't have to do that. He offered her a way out, reminded her that they are in this together, and that she's allowed to ask other people to volunteer rather than bearing everything alone.
She doesn't have to be alone ever again, with him by her side.
She can't stop thinking, either, about how good he looked doing it – and how good he sounded, too. She always found him attractive, back at the dropship, when he would put on his cocky act and speak to inspire a crowd. But now she actually likes him on a personal level, it hits a whole lot harder. Now she knows he's thought it through, and taken a compassionate and sensible approach that will be good for all parties.
And now she knows what it's like to sleep with him. She thinks that helps, too.
She can't put it out of mind, as they walk back to their room. She cannot stop thinking of the bold – but well thought-out – way he told Cage and the President what they were going to have to agree to. And she knows she really ought to suggest they go tell their friends what happened, but she's struggling to think much past taking Bellamy straight to bed.
It's not just the attraction of the way he acted in that moment, either. She's also craving a certain closeness, since she implied to Cage that she and Bellamy are together for real, for good, solid reasons, and Bellamy said nothing at all to contradict her after they left the room.
"What now, Princess?" Bellamy asks, voice low, as they turn down the hallway for their apartment.
She frowns a little. "We ought to go tell the others. Or some of them at least. Wells and Miller should know, even if we don't announce it to everyone until the deal is signed."
"Yeah. You're right. We should do that."
He makes no move to turn towards the dorm, though. They're still walking down the hall to their apartment, not in the direction of Wells and Miller at all.
He sucks in a loud breath. "Could we maybe – can that wait an hour or so? I know we need to tell them. But honestly it's been a big day for both of us and I'd love nothing more than to cuddle on the couch with you for a bit and let myself catch up."
She nods at once. She thinks that's a very sensible idea. And she thinks it's very healthy that Bellamy has learned to give himself a break from time to time, since they started living this more peaceful life.
"Sure. We can do that." She agrees easily.
He grins at her. "But that's not exactly what you've been wishing for all day?" He asks, a little teasing. "I'm sorry. I know it's a little pathetic."
"It's not pathetic at all." She assures him at once. "And – it's almost what I'm wishing for, too. It's just that – you know – you're kind of hot when you get all decisive like that." She manages, flushing hotly.
There's a beat of silence. They've arrived at the apartment, now, and Clarke stares very determinedly at the door while she opens it. She's not sure she can bear to look at Bellamy's face after that confession.
She forces herself to do it. She peeks a quick glance at him, as she slips through the door.
Oh. Well. She probably doesn't need to be so worried after all. He's grinning like crazy, cheeks splitting wide open and eyes alight with joy.
"I knew it." He says, victory in his tone.
"Knew what?" She asks, daring to smile a little. His happiness is infectious.
"I knew you liked it when I get all cocky. Admit it – you used to love it when I'd argue with you and try to pretend I was in charge at the dropship."
She laughs. "Don't flatter yourself. I like it when you're confident – it suits you. But that's not the same as being cocky."
"But you like it when I give orders." He presses, evidently enjoying himself a bit too much.
She grins. "You like it when I give orders, too." She reminds him.
"So we both like it. We can work with that. We can switch it up sometimes." He suggests, reaching out to give her a spontaneous and totally unnecessary kiss on the ear, of all places.
She laughs, shakes her head, finds herself being scooped up and carried over to the bed.
Hmm. Well. It seems like they're still together, doesn't it? And last she checked, there is no one left to convince. No reason to put on a show.
No possible motivation for Bellamy to take her to bed, unless he actually wants to hear her scream his name.
Thanks for reading!