Clarke's head leaned back against the seat she was strapped into. Her hands gripped the belt tightly as a deep pit grew in her stomach. They always made it out just in time, but it didn't mean going up in a three hundred year old spaceship was any safer than what was on the ground. Her body shook and her eyes clenched shut as the ship jerked through the atmosphere. She didn't like closing her eyes. When she closed her eyes she still saw Josephine, and sometimes she forgot that she was gone.
Taking off a planet, going to a planet, it never felt safe. It always made her think about Wells, and how much he deserved to still be here. How angry she was at him for coming onto the original journey to the ground. If she could go back and treat him kinder she would. Clarke had grown into the skill of avoiding her guilt, but Josephine had fleshed out six years of it in a handful of days. If she was able to have cognitive thought, she knew Josephine would be pretty proud of herself.
She drew in a breath as the ship stabilized, and her eyes opened to the room. Clarke loved these people, and she had always felt responsible for them. She quickly noticed that none of them across from her had spared her a thought. She was relieved in the sense that no one saw her mild panic attack, but it also hurt in other ways. Soon these people would look to her to speak, like she was a vending machine that took disaster in like a coin, and spit out a sustaining solution. She almost always had ideas, but they weren't always well received.
A touch to her shoulder almost sent a shock through her body. Her eyes followed the arm length of the familiar hand. She was met with the comforting smile of Bellamy Blake. She wanted to cave into the arm, to take the hug and support that it offered. She needed it, she needed Bellamy. He didn't have to speak to remind her that she was loved, at least loved enough to keep pressing on. Her hand touched over Bellamy's and curled fingers guided across the back of his. She could feel the warmth between her shoulder and his hand spreading through her body.
Then the captain announced they could leave their seats. Clarke immediately clicked her belt and slipped out of her seat. She was back on the mission, passing the curious looks of her comrades. She found Octavia in the cafeteria, she was seated closest to the exit and it seemed they were both eager to get out of the place filled with the people they had destroyed at least once or twice. Clarke looked at Octavia with a cautious glance. She wasn't afraid of her in the sense that most people were. She'd come back around to valuing her, and back to worrying about her opinion. Octavia was not someone who made you guess how she felt.
Her glare was not as easy read in this moment. Was she still processing what happened? Was she still dealing with herself? Clarke didn't know. Before Clarke could say anything, Diyoza walked into the room. "What's going on in here?" Clarke shrugged her shoulders and took a seat with Octavia, Diyoza soon joined. "You two don't look like women who just won and saved everyone." It caused a sigh between the two women, Diyoza could read a room. "Almost everyone." She corrected.
Clarke looked down at her hands reflectively, she felt like she was going to cave into herself. She didn't know what to say, as confident as she felt moments ago it was gone now. It was easier to lose it around these two. "Octavia…" She should start there. Octavia's face turned from her. Clarke sighed and looked back at her hands. The familiar warmth on her shoulder grew, and she could see his hand in the corner of her eyes. He was always there, always reminding her. Octavia got up to leave only she did not leave and stood facing away, and she had her answer. She was still processing.
Clarke reached back to touch that hand. "You should see your mom about the shoulder pain." Clarke turned to look at Diyoza. Her eyes trailed up to see Bellamy's smile. It wasn't pain that was there, right? She took a breath and stood up.
"My shoulder is fine." She walked to grab some of the coffee they had sourced a few weeks before. "Octavia." She said again, this time a little more firmness in her voice. "We will find a way to get him back, I promise we will." This caused Octavia to turn and face her. "He wanted to do better, just like Monty wanted." Diyoza got to be a fly on the wall in this conversation. "And we will do better by getting him back."
Octavia notably swallowed. "He's dead Clarke. He's dead, he made that choice." The warmth on Clarke's shoulder told her something else, but he wasn't there. He wasn't there.
"Hey!" Diyoza commanded attention. "You thought I was dead, remember?" She wasn't one for being hopeful, but she had learned some valuable lessons in the last few weeks. "So everything sucks, and people are dead. Bellamy is stuck on a planet of vampiric jackass's. What are we going to do about it?"
Heavy boots walked into the room at the right moment. She had been asleep for a hundred and twenty five years. Fresh war paint was splashed on her face. Her voice was confident, but her limbs were still adjusting to movement. Lexa spoke up with an overly obvious tone in her voice. "We get him back."