AN: Sorry for the slightly late update – if anyone noticed ;) – I had a thing yesterday and didn't get home until late, and had no energy left for posting. Hope the chapter's worth the wait

I don't own anything relating to The 100

Chapter title from "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men

See the end of the chapter for warnings

38

So Hold My Hand, I'll Walk with You My Dear

The flight to Amman isn't long, just over an hour, but as luck would have it, their flight gets in just after two others, so by the time they've made it through passport control and customs, gotten their bags and caught a cab to the hotel, the sun has set and neither of them are particularly interested in exploring the city.

"We have some time tomorrow, right? For sightseeing and stuff," Bellamy asks before face planting on the bed.

Clarke sits down next to him, leaning against the headboard and closing her eyes. She slides her hand into his hair, scratching his scalp which gets her a pleased hum. "We do, yeah, the bus for Petra doesn't leave until three in the afternoon. I was thinking we'd check out the citadel tomorrow, maybe. And we have almost two full days when we get back too, the flight to the Seychelles doesn't leave until late on Tuesday, so we'll have plenty of time for the rest of the city then."

He turns his head so he can nuzzle her thigh, breath hot through her pants. "Sounds good. So no need to leave the hotel tonight."

"We should probably eat something," she points out. They did get lunch on the plane, but it wasn't much food, and her stomach is actually rumbling a little.

He opens one eye to look up at her. "Room service?"

So they end up ordering food to the room, eating by the large window with an amazing view of the lit up city twenty-two floors below them.

Clarke's first real impression of Amman, on the cab ride from the hotel to the citadel the next day, is that it feels like any large city – at least the wide boulevards they drive down. They're lined with palm trees, but apart from that and the signs in Arabic, it could be anywhere in a somewhat temperate climate zone. She's sure parts of the city have a more Middle Eastern feel, though, and is looking forward to exploring them.

"This isn't really what I was expecting," Bellamy says after a few minutes. "Especially after Cairo, I thought Amman would be more like that, this feels much more… western, I guess."

She nods. "I was just thinking the same thing. Not that I have a ton of experience with the Arabic world, but still."

He turns his attention from the window and passing city to her. "You haven't done much travelling in this part of the world?"

"Not that much, no," she confirms. "Me, Harper, Raven and Wick, Raven's boyfriend at the time, did a bit of a tour back in…" She pauses, glancing at their driver – he seemed to understand English fine when they got in the car, even if he didn't speak it very well, so she'd better watch what she says. "Back when we were in Egypt. We started in Morocco and followed the Mediterranean, through Algeria, Tunisia and Libya to Egypt. Then we traveled by boat from Alexandria to Tel Aviv and continued through Israel to Lebanon, Syria and Turkey."

Bellamy nods thoughtfully. "That sounds like an interesting trip."

"It was," she agrees with a nod, before frowning. "Did you want to make any more stops in the area? We never really discussed it… I don't think Syria's an option at the moment, but we could probably do Jerusalem or Istanbul, if you wanted."

He shakes his head. "No, I thought about it, and there's a lot of history but I've never been much for religion, or at least not the modern ones, so it's not really my type of history, if that makes sense?"

"I get that." Clarke nods. "Oh, and then a bunch of us celebrated Raven's… bicentennial in Dubai, two years ago, that was amazing."

Their cab comes to a stop and they pay the driver before getting out, buying tickets before entering the area around the citadel.

"Tell me more about Dubai," Bellamy says once they're inside. "I've always sort of imagined it as this… fairytale place, I guess, based on what I've seen."

"Yeah, that's a pretty good description," she confirms. "Have you ever been to a place that feels surreal, you know? Like it's only been put there for tourists, almost like it would cease to exist when nobody was there to enjoy it?"

He considers her question for a moment. "Maybe Disney World. But that has been created for tourists, so maybe not exactly what you mean."

"No, I get what you're saying, but not exactly like that." She pauses. "I think the only other place I've really experienced that's the same way is Las Vegas, so maybe I can explain it better when we get there."

"Yeah," he agrees with a nod, a slight frown on his face, eyes unfocused.

Clarke can't be sure, of course, but she thinks she knows what he might be thinking about. "Did you want to go to Dubai?"

He lets out a huff of air. "Honestly, I didn't think about it when I made my list, but if I had, I might have put it on there. But I don't want to mess up our plans. Though if I could, I'd definitely go there some day…"

But they both know this is his only chance.

"Hey," she says, tugging his hand until he stops and turns to face her. "Don't worry about that. We have eight whole days, almost nine, in the Seychelles, we can take a day to make a pit stop in Dubai, if you want to. Either after this, or between the Seychelles and India. Fly in so we get there in the afternoon or early evening, then one whole day there and fly out the next morning. Two nights. So do you want to?"

She's half expecting him to just brush it off, so it's a surprise when he seems to really think about it.

"Are you sure? That's two nights at the hotel in the Seychelles that we won't use, and I know that was one of the places you splurged on. Plus flights won't be cheap, this close to the departure dates."

"Is that your only objection?" she asks, and Bellamy shrugs, which she takes as a yes. "All hotels and flights we have booked for this trip are refundable until the day of, so that's not a problem. Honestly, considering the price for that hotel, I think we'd actually save money going through Dubai instead, assuming we get a not too expensive hotel there."

His eyes widen and she can tell that he's fighting with himself, debating whether to ask exactly how much the hotel in the Seychelles cost, but in the end, he seems to decide against it. "OK, if we can get the money back for those two nights in the Seychelles and if we can find flights and a hotel that won't cost an arm and a leg."

Clarke loops her arm through his and tugs him along down the path again. "We'll check when we get to Petra tonight." She pauses for effect. "How about just an arm?"

"Don't push it."

They stroll around the citadel for a while, Bellamy taking on the role of guide – apparently, he's researched the place and tells her all about the Temple of Hercules, the Umayyad Palace and the Byzantine church on the site, as well as some of the sights of Amman that they see from their elevated position.

When they've had their fill of ruins and history – at least for the day, she doubts Belllamy could ever get enough – they take a cab back to the hotel, where they have some lunch before grabbing their over-night bags from the room and boarding the bus that's going to take them to Petra.

Once they've picked up the last of the tourists, their guide, a British middle-aged woman called Karen, introduces herself and gives them a quick summary of what to expect during the tour, finally telling them that she's available for questions but, apart from that, she'll let them enjoy the bus ride in peace.

The first half hour or so after that is pretty interesting – they weave through the city, getting a glimpse of different areas, before the buildings give way to fields of some sort of crops, passing a large shopping center, a water park and an IKEA, of all things. By the time they reach an exit indicating that they're passing the airport, though, most of the vegetation and buildings are gone, and for the rest of the trip, it's mostly desert extending as far as they can see in all directions.

They reach their hotel around six thirty, the sun already descending towards the mountains housing the actual ancient city. Everything's included in the tour, so when they've gotten checked in, they make plans with Karen and the rest of the small group to meet for dinner at eight before going up to their room.

Clarke immediately jumps into action, calling the hotel in the Seychelles and canceling the first two nights of their stay there, no problem. Then she opens up a browser on her phone and cancels the original flight from Amman to the Seychelles before looking up new flights.

"OK…" she starts after a few minutes. "There's only one direct flight from Amman to Dubai and that leaves at eleven in the morning, so we'll miss most of the last day in Amman, is that OK? We'll still have all of Monday for any sightseeing we still want to do. I don't really want to book an eleven hour flight with a stopover when there's a three hour direct flight that's not even more expensive."

Bellamy comes to look over her shoulder. "Of course, that's fine. I'd like to check out the roman theater and the Nymphaeum, but that shouldn't take long, we can fit that in along with some general sightseeing on Monday."

"OK, great." She clicks to book the flights, her phone pinging a moment later with the electronic tickets, and then changes the search for Dubai to the Seychelles. There's a direct flight on that leg as well, so the total travelling time is actually shorter than it would have been with their initial flights. When she's gotten those tickets booked as well, she switches to a hotel site and soon has a few different options up on the screen. "Which one looks best?" she asks, glancing up at Bellamy. "Don't look at the prices!"

He shakes his head but there's a smile playing on his face, and he considers the hotels. "That view is amazing," he then says, pointing to one of the images on the screen.

It's a good hotel, by all appearances – not too expensive, but not one of the cheapest either, and it's out on The Palm, which is pretty cool.

"Good choice," Clarke says, clicking the button to book their two nights. "All done. And we definitely saved money."

He chuckles behind her, squeezing her shoulder before crossing the room to the bathroom. "Never tell me how much any of this costs, OK?"

She can't help but let out a short laugh at that herself. "I think I can promise that, yeah."

The group dinner ends up being a lot of fun – they're seated next to a couple from New Zealand who are almost doing their trip but backwards, so they give each other tips for the places they've already been that the other couple will be visiting as well. By the time they call it a night – a few minutes before eleven, they're meeting at eight thirty in the morning and want to get a good night's sleep – they have the names of great restaurants off the beaten track in Beijing, Tokyo, Sydney, and Christchurch and have, in turn, recommended the bubble hotel in Iceland, a trip down to Clovelly if they have time while in London, and their favorite pizza place in Rome.

-100-

Bellamy's already up by the time Clarke wakes up the next morning. Or, he's awake but still in bed, scrolling on his phone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"You know," she starts, voice a little hoarse with sleep, making him jump a little. "I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've woken up before you on this trip."

He chuckles at that. "It's not my fault you're such a sleepy head."

"Right, that's the problem. What are you doing?"

He shows her the phone, where he has a website open with information about Petra. "Just preparing for the day."

"You do know it's a guided tour, right?" she asks with raised eyebrows. "You don't actually have to read up on it beforehand."

"Sure." He gives her an unimpressed look. "How many tours have we gone on so far?"

She can't help the way the corners of her mouth turn up a little at his dry question. "True." She rolls onto her side so she can prop her head on his shoulder and throw an arm across his chest and a leg across his. "What time is it?"

He closes down the browser and checks the time on the phone. "A little after seven."

"Huh." She lets her hand trail down his chest and stomach, slipping into his boxers. "So plenty of time before eight thirty."

She leans in to press a kiss to his chest so she doesn't see him put the phone away, but she hears it land on the bedside table, and then he's flipped them so she's on her back, his weight pushing her into the mattress. She shifts a little, letting him settle more fully between her thighs.

"Plenty of time, yeah," he agrees, claiming her mouth in a kiss that quickly turns deep and dirty.

In the end, they have about twenty minutes to wolf down some breakfast before meeting the rest of their tour group.

Their guide leads them on foot to the visitor's center and then onwards, and soon they enter the Siq, the narrow pathway through towering cliffs that will eventually take them into Petra proper.

"This is amazing," Bellamy mumbles when they've been walking for a few minutes, craning his head back to catch a glimpse of the sky high above them, a narrow strip of pale blue. The sun has been up for a couple of hours, but in the shadow here it's still chilly and Clarke's glad she brought a sweater.

"It is," she agrees.

Soon after, the pathway widens and they start spotting carvings in the rock faces on either side of it. Karen stops a little ahead of them and waits until everyone's gathered around her, and then she starts the official tour.

It's definitely a fascinating place, traces of people who lived here many millennia ago carved into the very stone. Karen starts telling them about the origin of the city, the people who lived there. They leave the Siqbehind after a little while, and after that, it's basically one sight after another, impression after impression – the Treasury, with its impressive sandstone façade, a number of different tombs and churches, the Nabatean theatre and finally the monastery Ad-Deir, with vast, breathtaking views of the city and surrounding mountains.

Bellamy barely lowers Raven's camera as they walk along, snapping photos of everything around them, and they even manage a selfie with the impressive Royal Tombs in the background, which Clarke immediately uploads to Facebook – they've been slacking a little on that front lately.

By the time they head back through the Siq towards the hotel, the entire group is tired but in good spirits, talking about the tour, all the impressions, their favorite parts. They enjoy a nice lunch at the hotel restaurant before everyone checks out and piles onto the bus for the ride back to Amman. They take the longer way around this time, getting a good view of the Dead Sea for part of the way. They don't stop, so they can't take a dip, but it's still interesting to see the turquoise water with the white salt remnants along the edges.

They get back to the hotel late, and it's tempting to just order room service, but they manage to gather up enough energy to at least leave the room and find their way to the restaurant on the tenth floor, which offers a beautiful view of the city. They do head back to their room after dinner, though, watching a couple of old Seinfeld episodes dubbed to French, for some reason, before getting ready for bed.

Clarke's in that in-between state before you quite fall asleep when she hears Bellamy just behind her.

"What do you think happens after you die?"

His voice is low enough, just above a whisper, that she knows she could pretend to be asleep if she wanted to, but this is the first time he's brought it up since she told him about the whole thing. So she turns in his arms, shifting away a little so she can meet his eyes.

"I know you said that you don't know what happens, I get that," he continues. "But… what do you think? You must have thought about it."

She lets her eyes slide to his Number – 111, so little time left – as she considers his question.

"I have thought about it, yeah," she finally says, slowly. "I don't think it's possible to avoid, doing what I do. I think I've believed in most of the common theories from different religions through the years, to be honest."

He chuckles lowly at that. "Hard to make up your mind?"

"More like… re-evaluating my beliefs when presented with new perspectives," she says with a half-shrug. "Back in late nineteenth century United States, when I started out, the only religious option was Christianity, really, so it was sort of my default belief back then. It wasn't until I moved to New York for the first time, in 1886, that I really came into contact with other religions."

"I can't even imagine what the city was like back then," he murmurs. "It must have been so different."

"It was," she confirms. "Brooklyn Bridge had been finished a few years earlier, and Central Park, but I doubt you'd recognize it. But I'm getting off topic."

"Religion, right."

"Yeah. I lived in the Soul Keeper building back then, it was in the area that's Soho and Lower Manhattan today, close to where Tribeca Park is, I think. It's been torn down since then." Clarke pauses, trying to call back the memories from those days. "Anyway, immigrants from all over the world were starting to arrive in the US, and New York, which of course meant new cultural and religious perspectives."

"The true melting pot," Bellamy notes. "The way it should be, people with different backgrounds, learning from each other and evolving together."

She has to smile at his phrasing. "Exactly. So yeah, I started coming in contact with other religions and cultures, both in actual life – we had neighbors from a lot of different European countries and also some from the Middle East, and through the memories of the souls I helped move on, and it was… the teachings of Christianity had never really sat well with me, I don't know why. The whole burden of sin and resurrection or punishment, and the one God, a single higher power ruling over everything… it didn't feel right for me, not with what I was doing."

"You don't think an omniscient God would rely on humans to handle the transfer of souls?" he asks, voice genuine.

"Not really, no. I believe in some sort of higher power, I can't not, but a single, all seeing God that's just hanging out not doing anything about the situation in the world right now… I can't believe in that."

"Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid God who creates a world that is so full of injustice and pain," he says quietly, and she nods.

"Nice Stephen Fry reference," she replies with a half-smile, which he returns.

"So you started getting other views of religion," Bellamy brings the conversation back to the subject at hand.

"I did, yeah… at first it was mostly Judaism and Islam, especially in New York and Boston, and they're not really all that different from Christianity when it comes to the afterlife, but they still offered different perspectives, you know? Then I went back to the west coast and San Francisco, which had a significant Chinese population back then. That's when I came in contact with Buddhism and reincarnation for the first time."

Clarke pauses, lets him consider her words for a moment, since she just realized that they've never really talked about belief or religion. She has no idea what Bellamy himself might believe, and the last thing she wants to do is insult him in some way.

His brow is furrowed, which tells her he's thinking hard about something, and after a moment, he nods once. "That's where I usually end up too, when I actually think about it," he says. "I don't know if I really believe in any kind of… not life after death, obviously, but existence, maybe? But sometimes you want to believe in something, you know?"

She nods, finding his hand, which is resting on the bed between them, and interlacing their fingers.

"I know. So the theory of reincarnation was… it was the first thing I came across that felt like it might be possible. I knew that there had to be something. Or, I didn't know, not really but… why would we be doing all of this, helping souls leave this world, if there's nothing after?"

"That wouldn't make sense," he agrees.

"Exactly. So in a way, reincarnation felt like the final pieces of the puzzle slotting into place." She pauses, hesitates for a moment. Bellamy knows about Finn, in the abstract – Raven had a Norm boyfriend who died – but they've never really talked about it in depth. She knows Raven wouldn't mind her telling Bellamy more, though, so she continues. "Raven and I talked about it a lot back then too. I was in Boston back in 1899, when Finn died, and after that we were relocated to San Francisco together, since I didn't want to leave her to her own devices after losing him. I had already started thinking about all of that, and Raven was suddenly interested in it too, which I suppose makes sense…"

"Yeah, Octavia had a phase like that after our mom died," he says. "We were never religious or anything – our grandparents were Catholics, they went to church and forced Mom to go to church, used religion as a weapon, she used to say, and she rebelled against it even growing up. After they kicked her out, using religion as a reason it wasn't OK for her to even kiss a guy outside of marriage, I guess she cut all ties to the church, so we didn't have any of that growing up. But yeah, after she died, Octavia obviously had a hard time, and I figured if it made her feel better to look into different beliefs about the afterlife, it couldn't hurt."

"Yeah, that was basically my take on Raven as well. And it's…" Clarke pauses, tries to form her thoughts into actual words that make sense. "Like I said, reincarnation was the first thing I'd come across that felt like it could actually happen. And since then, I've had… OK, not proof, I don't know if there's such a thing as actual, concrete proof of that, but… right, you know about déjà vu?"

Bellamy frowns but nods. "The feeling that you've experienced something before? Sure."

"So it's not quite like that," she continues. "But it's probably the best way to actually explain it. Sometimes – not very often, it's happened to me, like, four times or something, which makes sense considering how many people there actually are in the world – when I meet someone new, I have this overwhelming feeling that I've already met them. And not just, like, oh, I know you from somewhere. I mean I get extremely detailed flashbacks to when I actually did meet a completely different person, fifty, sixty, a hundred years ago. I can pass a woman on the streets of New York and get vivid images of how I ordered from a waiter at a restaurant in London in the fifties."

He's been watching her intently while she's been speaking, and when she stops, he lets out a long breath. "Yeah, that's definitely… not actual proof, like you said, but it would absolutely make sense with reincarnation."

"Yeah, that's what I think too." Clarke pauses before going on, picking up the earlier thread of conversation, curious about which way Octavia might lean. "So did Octavia find a theory she liked?"

"She did, and she was the one who really introduced me to reincarnation," he says. "I had heard about it, of course, we'd studied Buddhism and Hinduism in school, but I never really got into it. She went through the whole heaven and hell, paradise, all those things, but she didn't like them – "there are so many people, Bell, how would every single one fit in heaven?" she asked me – and in the end, she settled on reincarnation. I swear, she must have read everything there was about it, she practically lived at the library for weeks, and then she gave me a thorough introduction – she even made a PowerPoint presentation and borrowed a friend's computer to show me – with all the arguments for and against it."

She can't help but smile at that. "So she sold you on the whole thing."

"Yeah." Bellamy lets out a sigh. "And maybe it's the need to believe in something, especially now that…" He cuts himself off, takes a deep breath.

"I know," she assures him.

He smiles down at her, but it's not a happy smile, not really.

"I guess I just… I want to believe that maybe I'll see you again. Somehow."

She moves closer, wrapping an arm around him and feeling his wrap around her, and hides the tears that rise in her eyes against his chest. "Me too."

-100-

Their last day in Amman is both intense, in that they spend most of it on foot, and laid back, since they mostly just stroll around with no real goal in mind. They leave the hotel right after breakfast, setting out on foot in the general direction of the downtown area, which, according to Bellamy's research, is where the roman theater and Nymphaeumare located. The immediate area around their hotel is basically residential – there are some restaurants nearby, but it's mostly private homes. It only takes them about twenty minutes to get to more commercial areas, though, stores lining the street selling everything from standard souvenirs and clothes to traditional scarves and hand painted pottery. They peruse the goods on sale, neither of them really looking for anything in particular, as they wind their way along the streets, admiring the grand mosque when they reach it.

They take a right at the next street corner, and halfway down the street, Bellamy pauses, eyebrows furrowing.

"Something wrong?" Clarke asks, coming to a stop next to him.

"I think this might be…" he starts, squinting to be able to read a sign on the other side of the street. "Yeah, that's the Nymphaeum."

"Yeah? Come on then."

There's a cast-iron fence along the sidewalk, so they have to continue almost all the way to the end of the street before they can cross.

"There's not really much to see," he says, almost apologetically, when they stop by the information sign.

"I already know you're a history nerd," she assures him, nudging her hip against his. "You don't have to pretend ruins don't do it for you."

He huffs a laugh and wraps an arm around her. "Good to know."

There really isn't that much to see, though. Apparently, there used to be a large pool with a fountain, but all that's left now are some of the columns and a hole in the ground. There are a few guys working in one corner, so it seems like the excavation is still ongoing.

"OK, we can keep going," Bellamy says after a few minutes.

"You sure?" she asks. "We're not in any hurry."

He gives her an amused look. "Even I can't stare at ruins for too long, Princess."

"Fine," Clarke agrees with an exaggerated sigh and he pinches her side. "Want to grab some lunch before we go looking for the roman theater?"

"Sounds good."

They find a nice little coffee shop selling sandwiches and settle in for a while – they did do quite a bit of walking yesterday, and Clarke's legs, at least, are a little sore.

When they feel like they've taken up a table for long enough, they set off again, eventually making their way to the roman theater. They already saw it from the citadel the other day, but it's even more impressive up close, and they climb to the very top of the stands, where they get an interesting view of the city and its hills.

They explore the adjacent folklore museum as well, which is interesting but small, and then the plaza outside.

"Anything else you want to check out?" Clarke asks once they've started ambling in the direction of the street. "Any more roman ruins? Museums?"

Bellamy considers for a moment, reaching for her hand and interlacing their fingers. "I think I'm good," he finally says. "Petra was the main attraction for me in Jordan, and we've done the city."

"So back to the hotel to pack, grab some dinner and then early to bed?"

"Sounds like a perfect plan."

Chapter warnings: mentions of death and the afterlife, religious discussions – not trying to offend anyone in any way