So I thought for awhile I lost the notebook that had all my notes on this story, like when people get married, the names of kids, plots and all, and that left me...disheartened. You know what they say, as soon as you stop looking, you find things! Also, I really want to be writing a Jactavia story I started (more in bottom notes) but I promised myself I couldn't publish that until I finished this, so, yeah.
thanks to my reviewers: Red656, CheriEstella, Emperor's Sister, liferscove2118, lupuslady, sterolineblake, Crystalized Tears, and heidi1245401!
14 yrs After Start of Program
Clarke found she enjoyed her job. Not that she'd ever had any doubts about becoming a doctor, but there was a moment in between joining and being given intern's jobs that she did wonder if she'd ever graduate to more exciting jobs. After a couple years, yes. Other interns around her age were just learning how to put IVs in or the proper way to diagnose patients but Abbey could no longer deny that Clarke had learned it all years ago and was ready to move up in the world after the departure of some of the senior doctors in the wake of Sydney's betrayal.
"That day proved I'm too old for this," One of the doctors had told her mother with a long sigh. Even if they hadn't been part of the attempted-coup, they'd had friends that had been under her thumb and they'd never known. It seemed impossible, because the whole matter was put to rest, but months later, Sydney was still making waves in their community. Clarke hated that a dead woman had so much power of them all still, her presence lingering like a wraith in shady corners.
As sad as it was to see her predecessors and mentors go, it meant Clarke was given real responsibilities, real patients, and real opportunities to incite real change. The first thing she did, once given this responsibility, was to petition to Chancellor Jaha to help the hidden orphans on the Ark, at least medically.
Her argument, which was quite compelling if she did say so herself, was based around the fact that they wouldn't be expending any medicine more than they already would be. In fact, in general before the orphans, they were utilizing less medicine than before. Each child theoretically had a counted spot on the ARK, especially if they were born legally and it was the unfortunate product of both their parents perishing. Even if they were an illegal second child (Clarke had never heard of an illegal third) the fact they were an orphan meant that two spaces had been vacated, and so they were still within the boundaries of their estimated counts.
On another note, she was preparing to petition the way that second children were handled to begin with; the capitol punishment should still continue for the parents, but if two spaces are now open on the ARK, why should a child who never got any voice in the matter be punished, if they just overtake the space their parents filled? She hoped to have it put through before Charlotte turned 18, with the hope that she would be released.
Apparently, her argument had been compelling, because Jaha agreed to let Clarke begin to treat the orphans without having to sneak around to do it, and to try to recognize and name those that she could. There were, of course, still the problems of not enough families wanting children, but Clarke had begun a drive of food, bedding, and clothing and brought those along with her to better their lives. Part of her argument had also been that if these children had proper living conditions, they wouldn't need medical attention as frequently, so it was within their interest to give extras to them. And, children had the opportunity to go to school and get a job if they so pleased, with the hopes they could make their own money to afford food and clothing.
It wasn't perfect. There were still a lot of holes, a lot of things Clarke wished could be automatically better because they were people and they deserved basic rights, but it was a start. She would do what she could.
She worked her normal shifts, but then twice a week during the night, she'd go freely into the orphan halls and administer medicine and do check-ups. If necessary, a child could come back to the clinic, but luckily this had only occurred once in the couple months since she'd been doing this, a child that had contracted pneumonia and needed fluids and high-grade medicine.
It was nearly 5am and Clarke was just finishing up with the last kid that had come to see her tonight; an eight year old that had cut her arm open and needed a large band-aid and gauze. Since beginning, the number of people needed her had gone down significantly, and she attributed this to the fact that they were in better conditions than they'd begun. She'd been able to knock out colds, stuffy noses, and general ailments the first time, and now the population she saw was getting better, in general. She would leave the basket full right near the entrance free of things to take, and it was always empty when she returned. She hoped it was being distributed fairly, but no one seemed starving anymore, so she assumed it was. But she knew some still didn't trust her. To entice them to come forward for medicine, she gave everyone who came a cookie. Not everyone could be tempted with sugary sweets, but most could.
As she was making her way back to the doctor's area, walking through the dark halls and juggling her supplies and other items, her pad beeped. She used her knuckle to press the screen on and saw it was a reminder from Bellamy's calendar.
This made her grin; as of a week ago, they'd synced their calendars. It felt so…grown up. She was excited about it, because Bellamy was meticulous when it came to his calendars, but it also felt like a step somewhere. Not to a forced marriage but to domesticity of some sort.
Clarke was good at keeping knowledge stored; not dates, but knowledge. Ask her anything about a bone and she could rattle off at least ten facts. Bellamy, however, thought with his heart and therefore his calendar was filled with everyone's birthday, the wedding dates of everyone in the group, and the days their children were born. He was very on top of that, which Clarke was gleeful for, because she wasn't. It didn't mean that she didn't care, however, and when it came down to it Bellamy remembered the dates, Clarke found the gifts.
She saw only the main light on in the clinic, and figured it was likely a slow night. She dumped her stuff on an empty bed, stretching her arms for a moment to let them adjust to the sudden lack of weights and then clicked open the calendar app, flicking through to see what had alerted her.
"Teal and Al's wedding," She mumbled out loud, staring at the date. She felt an uncomfortable feeling rise in her chest. If not for this reminder, perhaps to everyone but themselves, their wedding would have passed by in quiet anonymity. And maybe this was for the better. The wounds of Sydney were still very fresh and very painful. Not everyone, even a few in the group, did not face Al's punishment well. They believed he deserved exactly what everyone else got; death. Clarke was…undecided. It took many great steps to commit treason, but at the same time, he was brainwashed. He was procured as a candidate as a child and molded into a soldier. She couldn't imagine what that would feel like.
Maybe she could pretend she hadn't seen it? Maybe she could distract Bellamy tomorrow and he wouldn't go? But she knew he wanted to. He was, not surprisingly, in the firm belief that Al should not be punished more than he was and that he amended for his mistakes. He'd want to go.
Al still was not allowed to leave his own room, so he'd been of course absent from the their gatherings. The room was being reconstructed, but no one felt comfortable there, as they'd once been. So many events had occurred there, perhaps it was better to leave it in the past? Teal had become a pariah, being engaged to him, and many who thought he should die also thought her engagement should be broken. Jaha did offer her this, quietly, but she refused.
"He needs someone now. It should be me. I want it to be me."
It was bold and brave words, and while Clarke was still mulling about Al she knew she liked Teal, as peculiar as she may be.
Clarke blinked, realizing she'd been standing there staring at the screen for a good couple minutes. It was then she realized that the doctor on night duty hadn't come out to say hello, or even acknowledge her presence. What if she was just a random kid, coming in here to steal pain meds to get high on? Shouldn't someone be more attentive?
She pulled up the schedule to see Keshawn on for tonight, and there was no indication he'd tried to switch with anyone or he'd had to leave early for any reason, nor were there any house calls tonight, which also could explain his absence.
Clarke tucked her screen back into her pocket and began to creep around the area, quiet and alert. She almost missed him in the back patient area, and would have if she hadn't heard the softest crying sound. She spun back around, flicking on the light to reveal Keshawn, sitting against the wall…sobbing.
"Keshawn?" The words escaped her before she could stop them. She stiffened, going hard as a board, as Keshawn snapped his eyes up. She hadn't realized Keshawn could…show emotion.
"I'll, er, leave you alone…" She mumbled awkwardly, unsure of how to handle this situation. Keshawn was older than her, and her superior, although not by much. He was a member of their group, but the hardly ever talked (Keshawn didn't talk to anyone but Brad, it seemed) and he always had an air or disinterest surrounding him. She was sure he was mortified to be caught, and would like nothing more than to vanish.
Yet, as soon as she found usage of her limbs and began to turn, she saw a flash of panic enter his eyes.
"Or…I can stay?" It came out as a question, and although he never verbally confirmed it, she saw a sense of calm trickle back into his face.
She sat next to him, although not too close, and just watched him. Was he dying? Was Brad dying? Was he going mad? Keshawn didn't show happiness so he defiantly never showed sadness.
She didn't know how to comfort him. With others, she was quite good at it. A doctor had to have a certain bedside manner, of course, but this was another doctor and someone very unusual in his social abilities. She was sure the usual things she did would only cause him to scoff at her.
He started for her, his voice quivering, and she realized that maybe he just needed someone to listen. She could do that.
"He's not mine," He whispered. Clarke blinked.
"I'm sorry?" She asked, at first wondering if Keshawn had been in the closet this entire time and they'd all failed to notice.
"Trent. He's not mine."
Oh, his son. This, of course, had a very different connotation and very different problem attached to it. Or, as he claimed, it wasn't his son?
"His red hair, it's so vibrant. And Marisha's father had red hair, so it's not unlikely. And I always just thought that maybe I had some way back too, that I just didn't know about. But he had his six month blood-test today and I shouldn't have, but I just couldn't help myself and it's not mine." He said all in one blubbering mess, throwing a sheet at Clarke, which had a set of DNA. Yes, indeed it matched Marisha's, but not Keshawn's.
"Oh stars," Clarke couldn't help but whisper, her brows knitting together "Do you know-,"
"No, not at all." Keshawn grimaced, "Harry's, maybe? Who could blame him, you know?" Keshawn said.
"I didn't think…I wasn't under the impression…" Clarke tripped through a question, one she already regretted asking the moment she started, "You are attached to him?"
"Is it so surprising I love my offspring, or one I thought was mine?" He asked tonelessly, and internally, Clarke was thinking 'yes, very', but she kept that to herself.
He was staring at something intensely on the floor, "We consummated that night, Marisha wanted to have the kid as quick as she could. And while I hadn't thought much of children before that night, I have to admit, once she came back and announced it I was…very much pleased," He said, recalling the moment and grinning like it was an inside joke. Maybe it was. Maybe the joke was that he could feel things at all.
"My mother told me I would never love anyone like I would love my own child. I thought she was overly sentimental. Yet when I held him…I was confident perhaps her comment had some merit. And it's been a joy with him, despite my internal fears. And I was weak tonight; perhaps, had I not looked it up, I could continue so blissfully ignorant." He gave a long sigh.
"So what are you going to do?" Clarke asked.
"I don't…know?" Keshawn raised his head, looking perturbed; "I had not…well, that is a question."
Clarke sighed, shaking her head, "I'm going to tell you what you're going to do, you're going to go home and forget about this."
"What?" Keshawn sounded mildly surprised, which for him was likely extremely surprised.
"Do you see another guy around rising this kid? No. It's yours, whether or not it is biologically, this is your son Keshawn. Will his smile be less bright? His first step be any less amazing? Will it be untrue when he calls you 'dada' as his first word? No, of course not. You are his father." Clarke said firmly, "Because someone who loves his kid that much deserves to have a kid back," She admitted begrudgingly.
"I hadn't thought of it that way." He admitted after a long moment, "I would hate to not be there for those moments," He agreed.
"So, yeah, there you go," Clarke said, intending to get up and leave, "You just…you know now. No need to make a deal out of anything, it's not like you two are together like that anyway, this really is just a marriage of law." She said.
"But I do love her." Keshawn said, completely serious and completely panicked. Clarke sat back down. She realized he looked…heartbroken.
"What?" She asked, squinting at him, "You're joking, right?"
"No, I would not…jokes are not within my social interactions. It would be one thing if it were just her indiscretion with that relationship, but I love her end I had to admit today she does not love me back. Brad just suggests sex, which I attempted after waiting the proper amount after the baby, but she rebuffed me and looked almost, disgusted, which is when I realized-,"
"Oh, stars," Clarke ran a hand down her face, "Have you tried to…communicate this with her? Do you talk to her? Do you two do anything together?" She asked.
"I…I found her quite attractive when she was with Harry, and I was joyed to find we were matched. I thought she may feel the same, since it is based on perfect measurements, after all. I assumed once we were married it would just be so, but it isn't…"
"Keshawn, relations don't work like that," Clarke couldn't help but chuckle, "You have to show interest. I think she'd be shocked to year you were 'joyed', since you don't really show much emotion to anyone." Clarke pointed out.
"Emotions are rather pointless, to explain at least." Keshawn argued.
"Well, but it doesn't come easy! Maybe if you asked her about her day, talked to her, you two could start something."
"I don't think she'd be interested in hearing about my day."
"You don't know until you try. And, why don't you ask her about hers first? Be interested in what she has to say?"
"I'm always interested, but Marisha does not seem to wish to share such things with me."
"It's probably because you never seemed interested, Keshawn. You have to start a relationship somewhere past assuming it's all going to fall into place! Do you see what I'm saying?"
"So…approach it like a…surgery? Take time on it?" He said, frowning and turning his head, "Take care of her?"
"Yes, you have the right ideas. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I will give you tips if you promise to actually try to do them. In addition to the things I've given you, you gotta start showing some emotion. If not to me, to your wife." She said pointedly, "I know, it's going to feel weird-,"
"Correct-,"
"But trust me, it will go a long way." She squirmed for a second, "Why don't you…go home? You're not really in any mood to be dealing with patients. Go and kiss Trent, if Marisha's up, ask her something."
"Are you sure?" Keshawn asked.
"Yeah, go, scram." Clarke blew out a long sigh, "Before I change my mind."
Keshawn got up hurriedly, and then turned at the door, "You know, despite everything bad I thought previously, I now find you to be a…good friend." He said, and then promptly left. Clarke realized she'd been complimented, insulted, and promoted to a friend all at once by Keshawn, and she wasn't really sure how to feel about it. Maybe he'd always thought of them as sorta friends, and like his supposive love, it was all becoming clear now.
Well, he had potential, Clarke thought, if he worked on it, which he did seem willing…so perhaps she could help him yet.
Bellamy sat pouring over documents on the Griffin's kitchen table. He bit his thumb, eyes gazing to the message Clarke had just sent via the tablet saying something came up and she'd be taking the night shift, and not to wait up, before he snapped them back to the multiple open documents on the gigantic screen he'd dragged in here. He'd do it at home, but he didn't want his mother to worry, and plus, they frankly didn't have the table space.
Here, he felt safe. Abbey was at Kane's, which meant she wouldn't be back all night and Jake was working late on a project, trying to pretend like he didn't know what was going on, or trying not to care as much. And, while he would have liked to see Clarke tonight, he was grateful because it meant he could try to figure this out longer.
Ever since his discussion with Charlotte at the SkyBox, he'd begun to look into her claims. Something about their conversation just bothered him. It was a passing comment, but it felt…significant. Luckily, as a Lieutenant now, he was granted many files he wouldn't have been able to previously, which made this a whole lot easier. He hadn't done things like this since his training module to become an Inspector. Back in the day, the first ten years of the ARK, inspectors had been those trained to seek out truth and question people, get to the bottom of mysteries. But, soon the crime and mystery faded and what was needed more were people to ransack bedrooms for contraband and so inspector became less of an honored title like his teaching job was and more of a step along the way, a step that some seemed content to stay in forever.
Slimeballs like the inspector that had been sleeping with his mother so she knew when 'random' raids were coming, for example. He had been revealed in Sydney's plot, no surprise, and was executed.
Bellamy wondered where it all went wrong? Then again, Shumway was leading things, so perhaps there was little shock in that. And he got lots of questions from people asking him how they were going to fix things now that nearly half of the guard was gone, and the majority were kids under the age of 20. Well, he always replied that they were going to do better. He was going to teach these kids right from the start that Sydney was not a hero, not a mastermind, but a traitor. She should not, under any circumstance, be revered.
They were going to be more honorable, extra honorable, following those events. They were going to actively seek out corruption, especially now that Miller was the new commander. They were going to be as truthful as they could be, as kind as they could be, and as understanding.
And stars, Bellamy wanted all that. He wanted to be all that so much it hurt him to imagine there were people that wanted to be the opposite of that. And yet, already, here he was…running into a moral conundrum.
Fact of the matter was, these files just made no sense. And by that he meant that there were…discrepancies. Holes. Flaws. Questions that someone should have been answering by no one was. And slowly, but surely, Bellamy was coming to the very real possibility everything was not alright.
There were certain documents that were censored out; even his clearance couldn't get him into those files that Jake, Raven, Jasper, and Monty were working on. But it was connected, he just knew it. And after Sydney, after all that, he wasn't going to brush it away like he was a mad conspiracy theorist, since that proved to him to let his gut guide him. It was telling him things he felt like he already knew; which was that their secret job was more important than anything else on this godforsaken floating junk of metal, and it did truly mean life or death.
He swiped his hand across the board, bringing a recent survey on the birthrates of lives animals vs stillborns and began electronically highlighting particular parts. There was a food shortage, and the SkyBox was getting the brunt of it. Soon, he knew his stations would be too. Clarke would be okay, at least for the next…two years, if he did his math right, before things started getting ugly. It was amazing what power and rations could buy someone. But this also meant that he needed to be on the lookout, since people dying meant that they'd do anything to live, including illicit deals and trades.
But it wasn't just a shortage of food, it was, a shortage of nearly everything; space, supplies, medicine…air. He couldn't pinpoint what wrong; if they had too many children and there were a whole hoard of second kids wandering around he didn't know about, if the survivors before their time had miscalculated how many diseases would wipe people out, if the since on the ark became so advanced it started saving people the grounders thought it would kill, or if they were just wrong from the start? By their predictions, they were meant to be able to survive up here for at least another couple decades. But something happened and now they were screwed.
And he didn't want to believe this. He wanted to think that he was wrong and he'd wipe his eyes and laugh because the numbers would change. So he was combing through every document, every word to make absolutely certain that he was sure this was happening before he said anything. And even when he was sure…he didn't know what he was going to do.
The door clicked open and Bellamy startled, frantically trying to close out windows. Clarke must have come home early. He didn't want to worry her, not about something they maybe couldn't even fix. Besides, maybe it was just a bummer season? Maybe this was a big over exaggeration? He only had data going back five years, so maybe this next year would be a boom of supplies and it would all be okay?
He furtively looked back to see Jake, scrutinizing him. Wordlessly, Jake came up behind him and re-opened the files Bellamy had just closed. Bellamy sat back, watching him. He could have told him to stop, but Jake was his elder in every way possible, plus his future father-in-law, and well…he could use a wise man's advice.
"It's a shitty thing to have, knowledge." Jake said, nodding as he read the title of what Bellamy had been studying. From the sound of his voice, Bellamy got the idea that maybe he'd already read these same reports himself in the same manner.
"So, it's true, then?" Bellamy asked.
Jake paused, "This conversation deserves a scotch." He muttered, going to a hinged cabinet Bellamy had never seen him open and pull out a bottle of amber liquid. He poured two glasses, a small amount. Bellamy had never tried this, much less ever heard of it, and took a long drink. That was a mistake and he found himself very awkwardly spitting half of it back into his glass and swallowing the rest, feeling like someone had just stopped on the inside of his throat.
"Small swigs," Jake said with a hint of amusement.
"Huh, yeah," Bellamy agreed, feeling stupid.
"It's true, I know in your eyes you found it." Jake sighed, rolling the liquid around the glass, "So," He shrugged.
"How long have you known?" Bellamy asked.
"Too long. It's a burden like the world on my shoulders."
"Atlas," Bellamy supplied, and when Jake gave him a quick glance Bellamy realized he was just using an idiom, not referring to the actual myth, "He…nevermind. What…how…"
"It's what your friends are working on, but I feel like you're smart enough to have guessed that." Jake said, pointing at him.
"What is it, exactly."
Jake shook his head, "I can't tell you that, legally. Unless, you figure it out of course. Then, I cannot confirm nor deny, just," He touched a finger to nose indicating he'd let Bellamy know non-verbally. But that didn't help. Bellamy didn't think for a second he could decode those censor blocks.
"But they're doing…something?" Bellamy asked.
"Yes," Jake let on, and Bellamy let out a long sigh, "We're still four years from launching their plan, and by stars I hope it works."
"Four years?" Bellamy thundered, "Have you read these? We don't have that kind of time?" He felt himself start to sweat, shaking his head.
"It's the best we have," Jake whispered, "It's the absolute closest time, trust me, we've all checked at least twenty times." He said wistfully, "Changes will have to be made, carefully, as not to alert the public of the danger."
Belllamy was quiet for a second, "You're not going to tell them?" He whispered.
"Would you?" Jake's frown deepened, "I once thought I would, Abbey and I…we had a big fight about it. But after seeing the response to Sydney's deception I'm not so sure our people would do the right thing anymore. They've terrorized that poor kid, desecrated the name of your friend, demanded blood for people that never agreed with her." He shrugged, "Imagine what they'd do if they knew about this."
Bellamy shoulders slumped, "Yeah," He agreed slowly, "It would be a bloodbath." He hated to admit the truth, especially since there wasn't even a solution. It would be like telling a person they had cancer and there was no way to fix it, they just had to sit there, know, wait to die.
Or, there was a solution, but it was nothing the populus could help with.
"Fuck," Bellamy leaned back, covering his face with his hands, hardly caring about his language right now.
"Second that," Jake snorted, "Welcome to adulthood."
Bellamy came back to his sheets, scowling heavily, "And know I just…I wanted to help, look into the food shortages. Now I'm just left feeling useless."
"You won't be, for long. Soon, you'll have to deal with certain cutbacks; food, medical allowances, everything. You'll have to monitor it to make sure that nothing underhand is being done, and that people don't riot."
"How glamorous," He drawled, angry at the situation, not necessarily at Jake.
"Being a savior never is," Jake patted Bellamy's back, "That's what we'll be." He stood, "You cannot tell Clarke."
"W…hat?" Bellamy said slowly, "But she's…I want to."
"You know her," Jake gave a sad smile, "She's idealistic. She'd want to tell everyone and that could get her in trouble. She'd be tried for treason and she's not a kid anymore. Plus, if it all works out, she'll be fine. And if it doesn't, then what's the point?" Jake asked tiredly.
"There's no Plan B?" Bellamy asked in a soft voice. Jake looked at him pityingly, as though Bellamay was about to learn more than he had wanted to.
"Oh, my boy, what we're doing is the Plan B."
Clarke returned home early the next morning, after taking a quick stop in to see how Toby was doing. Being a single mother was hard, she knew, from talking to Bellamy's mom. Being a single father? That must be very hard, she figured, since a mother had a natural connection (usually) to a child, through carrying them and breastfeeding them.
Irisa, despite having done nothing personally, was a pariah, just like her father. No one wanted to have to be around the mother of the girl that killed children, helped orchestrate one of the biggest attacks they'd ever seen. Toby was pretty much confined to his room. Most of the group liked Toby, and knew that he hadn't had any idea, truly, of Ana's antics, and therefore they gave him a pass. But Irisa? Stars, she looked just like her mother, already, and that made even kind people like Uma wary to hold her.
Not Clarke. She didn't think any innocent child should be punished by the sins of their parents, since she obviously thought people like Charlotte or Octavia deserved to live full, fair lives. And she was adorable.
Bellamy found it hard coming around; precisely because it looked like Ana. Not because he thought she might be like her mother, but because Ana's ghost still haunted him. Not even the bastardized ghost of her last moments, but the ghost of the friend he once had.
"Clarke, I'm so glad you're here. I think Irisa feels a little warm." Toby said as soon as he opened the door for Clarke. She could now hear little Irisa crying from her crib. She came over, putting her hand on Irisa's forehead. Toby hovered behind with a worried look on his face.
"She's not too bad yet. Just a little cold. If it gets worse, call me right away." Clarke instructed. She went into her bag and fished out the bags of breast milk. They'd run out of formula years ago on the Ark. Every woman breastfed their children, and if they had extra afterwards, were required to donate it by law to the medical center. Not every woman's milk came in right away, or ever, and some parents like Toby ended up without a mom.
"Thank you, she's eating a lot more now," Toby said, grinning with pride. Irisa had a rough couple first weeks, being so premature. Many doctors, including Abbey, had thought she wouldn't survive. But she was a fighter and now she looked like any other baby.
Toby leaned down, tickling her foot. Irisa grinned like he was the best person in the world.
If someone had told Clarke Toby would turn into an outstanding rather, she would have laughed. Nothing about him; his tendency to want to be alone, his aloofness, his lazy tendencies, his preference for nicer things in life, would have ever indicated to her that he might succeed as a parent, but here he was. Just a week ago, Clarke witnessed her spit up on his favorite pair of shoes and Toby just booped her nose and laughed it off. The Toby pre-Irisa might have stabbed someone that spilled water on them.
She didn't want to bring it up though. She didn't feel Toby was going to share emotions like that with her. Plus, she didn't need him to say it…she could see it.
It did make her feel a little maternal, because she knew Bellamy would be like this; patient, creative, wonderful, loving. But then she thought about actually carrying a baby right now and those romances were shot right out the window.
"What, why are you staring?" He asked with narrowed eyes and a suspicious tone, catching her half-gawking at him.
"Nothing, I just…you're really good with her." She admitted after a long moment.
"Is that why you come by? To make sure only one of her parents was mental?" He asked accusingly.
"No, I come by because I worry about her, about you. I'm not so petty." She assured, referring to those of their group and of the Ark that might think he was just as insane as Ana was near the end.
"I'm doing fine," Toby grumbled, going to fill a bottle for her.
"Yeah, I know. I think you are too."
Toby turned, mid-action, to stare at her, "Well, you know, one of us had to grow up to take care of her. Guess it's me since Ana's dead now."
Ah, yes, there was the biting anger she knew from him. She felt like he might have a lot of it built up. And when did he have a chance to let it out? He was pretty much here, twenty-four-seven, taking care of a baby. Babies were cute, but not good friends.
Al was one of his better friends, but he was locked up too, but for real reasons, not because people were protesting at his house…although people would, if he tried to leave. So, not much talking there. Plus, it wouldn't help to talk to someone else in the problem, they'd just be angry together.
And Matt was his other friend, so maybe-
"Why don't you and Matt go out, I can watch her for a night? You should get out." Clarke offered.
"Matt doesn't come here anymore," Toby ducked his head, staring at the tile, "Good reason too, my deceased wife blew off his leg. I wouldn't want to be around me either." He mumbled.
"Oh," Clarke's voice fell, "Well, have you tried talking to him? Maybe he just doesn't know what to say to you, either? You lost your wife and became a single dad all in a day too."
"I can't pretend to be a victim here," Toby gave a grim smile, "Not when Brad can't hear a damn thing and Matt's leg is made out of scraps from the Ark."
"Have you tried?" Clarke gave a long suppressed sigh. She knew that people joked about girls having communication issues, but stars, guys were so much worse! Look at Keshawn, who had no idea he even had to talk to his wife!
"I…I just know how it will end. Better to be alone in thoughts than alone in truth." He said, shrugging, trying to pretend like he didn't care, but Clarke could tell he did.
"You're self-hating humor is getting a little old, Toby." Clarke said, putting her hands on her hips, "We all have to get over this. I understand your situation, hell, but things are never going to change if you don't make them change!"
Toby's face hardened. He went to the door, "I think Irisa's feeling better now Clarke. I'll let someone know if she gets worse." He said pointedly. Clarke threw up her hands, heading for the door.
"Fine, but you know I'm right, or else you wouldn't be so mad." She pointed in his face. He responded by shutting the door on her. She let out a growl of annoyance before turning to see some Arkers, probably here to shot nasty names at Toby, staring at her carefully.
"My fiancé is Lieutenant Blake and I will report each and every one of you to him for harassment if you don't leave now and stay the hell away." She threatened, pointing murderously toward the hallway to the main Ark. Something in her voice must have been terrifying, or she pulled Bellamy's name- who was being quite renown in his job now- because everyone made themselves scarce.
She stomped into her house to find Bellamy snoring on the couch in her family's house, his big screen tilted by the door. He said he'd needed it because he was re-writing the lesson plans for all levels, not just the unusual level he taught, and that took lots of coordinating. She didn't doubt it; it was something that would have utterly bored her to do.
Seeing him made her frustration and anger abate, although she still felt the bitter taste in her mouth of the inability to fix things. She was a doctor, goddamit, that's what she was supposed to do!
She went and kissed Bellamy on the cheek. He woke immediately, taking in her dark circles under her eyes.
"Long night?" He asked.
"Stars, you have no idea." She moaned, and then looked around. "Are my parents home?"
"Your dad came in around 3 am, but then left back to do some work. Your mom is still gone and that… 'thing'."
"Ah yes," Clarke rolled her eyes, "The 'thing' she thinks no one here knows about." She clenched her fists momentarily. It upset her greatly what her mother was doing, despite her father's multiple attempts to assure Clarke that he wanted her to do what she wanted to do.
"I feel like you're a little keyed-up," Bellamy sat up, giving her space on the couch.
"I am," Clarke narrowed her eyes, "I just came from seeing Toby." She quickly relayed the end of their conversation with him, "I would send you or Leslie out to him, since both of you trained in psychology a little to be a teacher, but I feel like he just needs a friend to talk to!" She said.
"You're a good person, Clarke." Bellamy ruffled her hair, "We'll figure something out."
"Oh, and I think I became Keshawn's friend." Clarke added. Bellamy coughed on his breath.
"What? How?"
She went through finding him crying and explained it; Marisha first, because she could fix that, or help him. The kid, not so much.
"What if she just never loves him?" Bellamy asked, "He's not an easy guy to love."
"No, but he wouldn't ever hurt her. He's like me…we only fix people. I feel it. And I just want to help him. I can't make Marisha fall in love with him. He has to do that himself. I like to think that Jaha got more than just two or three of us right." Clarke admitted.
"I would argue with that, if we weren't currently betrothed." Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck, wincing.
Clarke gave him a 'see!' look but then frowned, "But then, there's the whole Trent isn't his thing."
"Stars, what are we on tonight, a soap opera?" Bellamy asked.
"Yeah, I know," Clarke chuckled, "So, Trent has red hair. We knew that. It's nowhere in Keshawn's bloodline, which maybe we all though. I mean, I want to figure it out. There isn't that many red-heads on the Ark, or even those with the gene! They're like unicorns compared to all us boring normal horses. So, I figure it won't be too hard to work backwards. I mean, what if Marisha's still seeing this guy? What if she's in love with him? There's nothing in the charter that says she can't sleep with another dude, but I want to know for Keshawn's sake. I'm not sending him down a wild goose chase."
A look like lighting crossed Bellamy's face.
"I'm going to go somewhere. Don't do anything about the kid problem until I get back."
"But now I'm thinking about it!" Clarke argued.
"Well…just don't. Think about how to get Matt to Toby. You're good at that; you'll figure it out. Just, I want to check something before you go knocking on the door of every red-head with a picture of Trent asking if that's their child."
Clarke narrowed her eyes, "Are you going to who you suspect the true father is?"
"…No."
"For a guard, you're a shit liar to me." Clarke leaned on the back of the sofa, giving Bellamy puppy dog eyes as he opened the door, "Can't you tell me who you think it is?"
"Not a chance. I'm not going to have you planning something before I know for sure." Bellamy clicked his tongue, "I promise once I know something, I'll let you know."
Clarke pouted, watching him go out the door. Who was it that he had an idea right away while she had no idea still?
Bellamy pounded on a door, feeling all-nervous. He didn't know why he was nervous; this was one of his best friends, and even if he confirmed it, he wasn't going to arrest him. Not like infidelity was illegal. But still, he was angry he hadn't seen it before. As soon as Clarke told him, he saw Trevor's little fat face and something just…clicked.
Benny opened the door, looking groggy, only in boxers and a dirty t-shirt. It was eight AM, admittedly, so Bellamy wasn't surprised his friend had been sleeping. Benny squinted into the harsh light of the hallway, yawning.
"Fucking shit, it's not Thursday already? How long was I asleep?" He asked, scratching his head, motioning for Bellamy to come in. He was referring to their twice a month man dates, as Clarke called them, usually where they just hung out and chatted. Sometimes, if Clarke was kind enough, she let them use her big TV and they'd re-watch old sports matches or play Mario Kart. Bellamy saw Benny turning his head at his wristwatch, looking confused.
"If that's how you're keeping track of time, you'll likely get real fucked up. We both know that thing hasn't ticked an inch since your gramps owned it," Bellamy teased. Benny slowly waking up and looking more and more aware grinned.
"Ah, ya got me." He held up his hands, "But…it's not Thursday….?" He added, a bit unsure.
"No, it's Monday."
"Thank god; I thought I was loosing my mind for a second. I mean, I've been so busy patching things around the Ark lately it could be possible I slept for three days, but…never mind." He shook his head, "That's just boring shit, you know?"
Bellamy held his tongue. He didn't think so; he was very sure it tied into the conversation he'd had with Jake last night. But this was not why he was here.
"So…I see you're in uniform," Benny said, crossing his arms, leaning against a post, "Am I a suspect in something?" Although his voice was light, there was a tinge of fear in his tone.
"No, no. It's a social call." Bellamy said, making a point to put his patch and his nightstick on the table, "I just have work in a couple hours."
"Oh, and it couldn't wait until Thursday?" Benny questioned, wary.
"Honestly…no."
"Mhh," Benny grunted, turning to his tiny kitchen, "I think I might have some biscuits from Roma left, lemme see…" He said, starting to clamor through his boxes.
Bellamy tapped his fingers on the table in the living room, sighing heavily, "You know, I'm your friend and I don't know how to begin this so I'm just going to come out and say it- and hell, maybe you don't even remember because you've slept with a lot of people and I'm sorta surprised there's no one here right now- but have you ever slept with Marisha?"
Benny, who had climbed on his countertop to reach a box on the tip top shelf, turned half reaching, frowning.
"What?"
"Marisha, you know, the Marisha in our group."
Benny came back down with a tin in hand, tilting his head.
"I assumed. Haven't met another one…" He set the tin down, scratching his chin, "You know? Yeah, I have." His lips turned down, "Only once though…I mean, we were both just using each other so, whatever, but it was totally consensual and-,"
"Benny, I wasn't accusing you of-," Bellamy hastily cut him off, "No. Look, do you remember when you did it?"
"Uhhh…" Benny sat down, taking a biscuit and pushing the tin toward Bellamy. Bellamy only took half of one, knowing that Benny was an average working class man, and didn't get the wage or the benefits that Clarke gave Bellamy. One day, he may with Stasia, but that was a while away. He nibbled; but oh, Roma's cooking was always good.
"You know what!" Benny clapped, "Yeah, it was two days before she married Keshawn. We got close after the names were announced of the couples, and I mean I didn't think that it was going to go anywhere, I wasn't expecting, but two days before she just showed up here and one thing led to another and," Benny rubbed his hands together, "You get it."
"Uh-huh," Bellamy said, nodding, his brain halfway somewhere else, thinking. He pulled out his tab and pulled up her medical file.
"Why?" Benny questioned.
"What?"
"Why ask me now? I mean, I thought it was a one-time thing. I liked it, I think she liked it but we haven't talked much since she had the kid. Is she interested in doing it again? I'd imagine Keshawn is as loving as a cold fish in bed, so…"
"Benny, you got her pregnant."
Benny nearly choked on his biscuit, "Fucking hell mate, don't scare a man like that!" He said angrily, wiping off bits of baked goods from his chin.
"I'm not, I'm totally serious." Bellamy grumbled, "It has red hair."
"I haven't seen it," Benny's eyes went wide, "Man, you are fucking serious."
"Yeah. She had her chip taken out right after she found out the names and her marriage, it says here. Clarke said that apparently she wanted to have her one kid as soon as possible." Bellamy said, scanning her file. He felt a little guilty, delving into this, but he was curious.
"Oh, wow," Benny wove his hands through his hair, "I'm a father, already…" He mumbled, spacing out.
"It looks like you, sometimes. That's how I knew today." Bellamy said, crossing one leg over the other, leaning back.
"She doesn't expect me to…to what?" He asked, turning his head.
"Did she say anything to make you think that she was trying to intentionally have you be the father, not Keshawn?"
"No, we didn't talk much, you know. And when she came to me it looked like she was near having a mental break. I guess, she had to have known there was a chance, but Marisha isn't a manipulative mastermind!" He argued.
"I don't think so, then. She might know, or have ideas, but I don't…I don't think she meant to. I mean, I guess I didn't think this all the way through. I don't have any suggestions on what you should do now." Bellamy shrugged helplessly.
"Maybe I should…talk to her." Benny said, his voice sounding like his mouth had suddenly gone dry, "I mean, I guess I do what to know this kid, if it is mine." He said after a moment.
"Keshawn really loves him. The kid." Bellamy added, "But two fathers are better than none," He said, looking at his hands.
"This is really messed up, man." Benny mumbled into his palms. It was a rare instance where Bellamy would have totally excused harsher language, and Benny used swear words freely, so perhaps this told Bellamy just how much this had rocked his friend to the core.
"Yeah," Bellamy reached over and patted Benny's back, "Belated congrats-and, by the way, you owe me some money."
"Huh?"
Bellamy couldn't help but give a sly grin, "Remember that bet I made with you back when you were like 16? The bet that said that you were going to get a girl accidently pregnant one of these days? We bet twenty rations on it."
"I can't believe you're holding me to that!" Benny said in faux-offence.
"I am nothing if not consistent, and c'mon, we both knew that I was going to win that bet. I mean, honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if you already had a sprog somewhere we never knew about."
"You are just mean," Benny gave a dramatic sigh, pulling out his wallet.
"I'm a best friend, you mean," Bellamy corrected as Benny handed him the coins, "C'mon, I'm going to buy you a drink with this money. You totally deserve it. According to your watch, it's six pm."
So, yes, as you see inching ever closer to going to the ground!
So, since i know the photobucket link was not working for a ton of you, I have uploaded pictures of the couples on my art tumblr, or tumblr just for my works and art. My name there is youngbloodlex22 and there are 12 posts with all the couples/important other characters, to help ya'll visualize :)
So, as I said, I'm working on a Jactavia fix-it fix that starts in season 4 and then goes semi-canon following the episodes into the hiatus/what happened during those six years. I thought it was going to be a oneshot. It's over 50 pages so far. Yep, not a one-shot. But I'm SUPER excited about it and I hope you guys will be too!
Remember to read and review!
