AN: Time for the second big family reunion – if you can call it a reunion if you haven't met before? Time to meet Bellamy's dad's family, anyway. I had so much fun writing this part, figuring out all the relationships and family members, and I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

I don't own anything relating to The 100

Chapter title from "I'll Find My Way Home" by Vangelis

43

So Shall My Heart Be at Peace

It's a good thing they don't have any plans after Anya leaves, because Bellamy is basically useless for the rest of the day.

He doesn't move for a long time, just flipping through the papers she left with them, reading the sparse information on there, looking at the couple of pictures she included.

After a while, he looks up, a frown on his face as he scans the room. "Where's my phone?" he asks, and Clarke grabs it from the small table next to the couch where he left it earlier.

"Here. You OK?"

He takes the phone with a grateful smile. "Yeah, I'm good, you can stop asking. I just wanted to check if anyone's on Facebook."

It turns out that several of his cousins are, and one aunt, so that eats up another hour or so, clicking through the profiles that are open and looking at all the photos. Trying to find parts of himself in these people that are family, as foreign as that feels.

Clarke finally manages to get him to leave the hotel room around one in the afternoon, arguing that they need to eat.

There's a McDonald's right next to the hotel, and Bellamy half-turns in that direction, but she loops her arm through his and pulls him along across the street, following the city wall in the opposite direction to yesterday.

"Come on, you need some fresh air," she tells him. "There's a nice park, like, ten minutes from here with some stuff I wanted to check out, we might as well get that out of the way, just in case we decide to not come back to Manila before we leave."

He glances down at her. "Can we do that?"

"Of course. I've told you, all our hotel reservations can be canceled. And our flight to Sydney doesn't leave until eight in the evening, so we can head back that afternoon if we want."

Clarke feels his thumb slip between their intertwined hands to rub against her palm. "Right, it's that flight."

His tone of voice makes it perfectly clear what he's referring to, but she chooses to pretend she doesn't get it anyway. "I don't know what you mean."

He chuckles at that. "You don't have to give me an out, I'm actually kind of looking forward to it."

"Yeah?" She feels a shiver of anticipation. "Good to know."

They grab some food and stroll around the park for a while, and it actually seems to take Bellamy's mind off the whole family thing, so she counts it as a rounding success. She brings up Google on her phone so they can read about the different monuments in the park, and when they find out that the museums are free of charge, Bellamy actually suggests visiting both the planetarium and the natural history museum.

Somehow, they while away the entire afternoon and part of the evening exploring the two museums, and only return to the hotel for dinner after the sun has set.

It's not until they're in bed, the curtains drawn against the street lights outside, the room dark and quiet, that Bellamy brings up tomorrow.

"What if they don't want to see me?"

His voice is barely a whisper, and if she had been about to fall asleep, she might have missed it. But she was kind of waiting for something like this, especially after their talk yesterday, so Clarke just turns in his arms so she can look up at him.

"Why wouldn't they want to see you? You're awesome."

His mouth twists into more of a grimace than the smile she was hoping for. "They won't know that until they meet me, though. And maybe they won't want to."

She wants to tell him that of course they will, but she obviously can't promise that, and she knows she won't ease any of his apprehension by offering weak half-lies.

"I can tell you that I don't think that will happen, but I know it won't help," she still says. "But just… even if they, for some reason, don't want to meet you and get to know you – which would be their loss, by the way – that wouldn't reflect on you in any way. You know that, right?"

Bellamy finally gives her a smile, a small one, but still. "I do know that."

"OK, good."

"I just… I know not everyone here's super religious or anything," he continues after a quiet moment. "But it does sort of feel like my mom's parents all over again, you know? If they're Catholic, they're probably not really too happy about their son knocking up some American woman out of wedlock…"

"Maybe not," Clarke agrees. "But still, that was over thirty years ago, and you're the only thing they have left of their son. Even if they weren't happy back when it happened, I would definitely bet on time having softened that. I think they're going to be really happy to get to meet you."

He lets out a deep sigh. "Maybe. I hope so."

She inches closer, nosing at his chin before placing a kiss against his throat. "You want me to distract you?"

His arm wraps around her and he rolls onto his back, bringing her with him. "Couldn't hurt."

-100-

Judging by the way Bellamy's eyelids droop when her alarm goes off in the morning, Clarke doesn't think her very vigorous distractions did much to help him sleep.

"You going to be able to stay awake for this?" she asks when he leans his head against her shoulder as they sit outside the hotel waiting for Anya.

"Just let me sleep in the car, I'll be fine," he tells her through a yawn, just as a car stops in front of them.

"The drive's only about an hour," she replies, nudging him to get up. "We honestly could have probably stayed at this hotel, but I wasn't sure either of us would want to drive back and forth every day."

"I didn't realize that you would be bringing all your things," Anya half-grumbles while opening the trunk for their bags.

"Yeah, we have a hotel booked in Taytay for the next six days," Clarke explains. "Good thing your car's big enough."

They get everything, including Bellamy, loaded into the car and after they plug the address into the sat nav, they set off.

It doesn't really feel like they leave Manila, the cities bleed together forming one large, urban area, but soon enough, Anya pulls off the street and into a parking spot outside what is apparently their new hotel.

"I assume we're just unloading and then continuing?" she asks, turning the engine off and giving Clarke a questioning look.

She, in turn, glances at Bellamy, who seems to have just woken up again. He shrugs, as if leaving the decision up to her, but she knows that he won't be able to relax until they've at least gone to the address Anya has.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," she therefore says. "And you need to get back too, so…"

Anya nods. "OK, then go check in and drop your things off, and I'll be here when you're ready to keep going."

So they grab their bags and head into the hotel. The check-in goes quickly and they're back in the car within ten minutes, minus their luggage. This time, Clarke slides into the backseat with Bellamy instead of sitting up front with Anya, taking his hand in a firm grip when they're buckled in. Anya gives him a dispassionate once-over in the rearview mirror before starting the car.

"Will he be able to handle this?" she asks once they're back in traffic. "He looks like he might keel over any moment."

Her question pulls a snort from Bellamy, but Clarke still gives her a pointed look. "He's just nervous. You would be too, in his position."

Anya doesn't respond, just shrugs and keeps her focus on the road ahead.

It's not a long drive from the hotel, maybe ten minutes. Clarke thinks they could probably walk, if they wanted to. The area looks like it's in the middle of being reinvented – some of the older houses look like they're about ready to fall down, but there are also newer ones, in bright colors, that look fresh and sturdy.

Anya stops in front of one of these houses, a green, two-story building with a bright blue fence separating the small courtyard from the street outside. There's a balcony on the second floor, running along the entire front of the house, full of plants of different types.

"This is it," Anya says, nodding out the window.

Bellamy's hand tightens around Clarke's to a point where it's almost painful, and she gently pulls her hand free, leaning closer to him. "It'll be fine," she whispers in his ear, and he nods, almost mechanically. "Come on."

Anya opens the door for them and then they're standing in front of the house, Bellamy's eyes darting back and forth so quickly Clarke doubts he's taking anything in.

A gasp pulls their attention to the shady porch along the house, where there's an older woman, one hand clasped over her mouth, eyes wide and fixed on Bellamy.

They all stand frozen for a moment longer, then Anya takes charge, stepping up to the gate and saying something to the woman. Clarke picks up the name 'Rosamie Balangao', at which the woman nods quickly. She still doesn't move, though, until Anya says something else, and then she reaches for the gate with trembling hands. Anya helps her push it open and they all step through.

The woman – Rosamie – calls something over her shoulder, and a moment later, two young boys and a girl appear in the doorway. The boys look like twins, probably around four or five years old, and the girl maybe a year or two older. They all take in the strangers with wide, wary eyes, until Rosamie says something else. The girl nods and slinks past them, disappearing out into the street and pushing the gate closed behind her. The two boys stay where they are, staring openly, but Rosamie waves them away and they go back into the house.

Her eyes haven't left Bellamy since she spotted him, and now she finally comes closer, slowly, as if afraid to scare him off. He doesn't move, but Clarke can feel the tension in his body, would probably be able to feel his heart racing if he were closer.

Rosamie isn't very tall, probably a couple of inches shorter than Clarke, so when she reaches them, she has to tilt her head back to be able to look at Bellamy. He still looks like he might pass out or bolt at any moment, but he doesn't turn away.

Rosamie studies him intently for a long moment, as if wanting to commit him to memory, and he does the same. If it wasn't for his deathlike grip on her hand, Clarke might try to give the two of them some privacy, but as it is, she can't really do anything other than stand there and offer her silent support.

The moment feels eternal, like time has stopped moving around them, but finally, Rosamie breaks it, reaching up to cup Bellamy's face in her hands. A half-sob escapes her but she's still smiling.

"My Bellamy."

It's not someone sounding out a name for the first time, not a foreign collection of syllables to her. It sounds almost like a prayer, like something she's used to mumbling under her breath, like hope.

Bellamy just nods, and then he finally releases Clarke's hand, leaning down to wrap his grandmother in a tight hug that she returns just as fiercely.

Clarke glances at Anya, who nods at the porch where a few chairs are set out, and they make their way over to them quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment happening in front of them.

"It doesn't seem like you'll need me after all," Anya notes.

Clarke shrugs. "We might still need help to talk to them," she replies, even though she doubts it. Even if they have language issues, they'll be able to work through them, she's sure.

Bellamy and Rosamie are still embracing when the gate to the street slides open again and the little girl from earlier reappears, followed by an older man who stops short at the sight in front of him. Anya gets up and approaches him, presumably introducing them and explaining the situation.

The little girl is hanging back, half-hiding behind her grandfather (great-grandfather?). When she glances over at Clarke, she offers a smile which the girl returns shyly.

Rosamie seems to finally realize that her husband has returned and steps away from Bellamy, only to grasp one of his hands in both of hers and pulling him over to Anya and Danilo. He follows her willingly, looking a little dazed, and Clarke decides it's time to join the party.

"Dani!" Rosamie exclaims, smile so wide it looks almost painful. "Our Bellamy, he is finally home, see?"

Danilo nods, a smile on his face as well. "I see, Rosa." He reaches out, clasping Bellamy's free hand in both of his. "Welcome home, son. We have hoped but… we did not know…"

Bellamy clears his throat, but his voice is still a little shaky. "I know, I understand."

The little girl tugs on Rosamie's arm and says something, and the woman claps her hands together resolutely. "Come, come, it is too warm, but nice and cool inside."

She ushers the girl in front of her, Danilo following, and Clarke, Bellamy and Anya bring up the rear.

"You doing OK?" she asks quietly as they step onto the porch.

He nods, still a slightly disorientated expression on his face. "Yeah, I… they're actually happy to see me, I couldn't even…"

"See?" She nudges him lightly with her elbow. "I told you they would be."

He huffs a laugh. "You did. Honestly, I was trying to prepare myself for the worst, I don't really know where to go from here."

She squeezes his hand and tugs him along towards the door. "From here, we go inside and get to know your family."

The smile on his face is impossibly bright. "Yeah, I guess we do."

The house is indeed cool, once they've closed the door behind them. They're in a narrow corridor that leads to a set of stairs straight ahead. To the left is an archway leading into what looks like a sitting room and to the right a smaller doorway, probably to the kitchen. They can hear Rosamie's voice from the right, accompanied by the little girl's now and then, but Danilo and the two little boys are in the living room, and the old man gestures at them, so they go to join him.

"Come, sit," he says, indicating a couple of sofas and armchairs grouped around a coffee table. "Rosa and Ella will bring something to drink."

"Thank you," Clarke says, claiming one of the sofas with Bellamy on one side and Anya hovering awkwardly on the other.

"This is my girlfriend, Clarke," Bellamy takes over. "And her friend, Anya. She lives in Manila, she's the one who helped us find you."

Danilo's face lights up in another bright smile and he shakes Anya's hand almost violently. Her eyes widen but she doesn't say anything, which Clarke knows must take quite a bit of effort. Anya doesn't do well with strangers.

"Thank you so much for helping our boy find his way home."

She offers him a tight smile and carefully pulls her hand free. "You're welcome. But I did only come as an interpreter, if that should be needed, and it seems like you'll be just fine on your own, so I should probably get going. I don't want to intrude on this special time."

Danilo nods understandingly. "Of course. We do not speak English much, but I think we can get by. And my daughter will be home soon, she can help if we need it."

"Good." Anya turns to Clarke. "You have my number, call me if you need help with anything else, like a ride back to Manila on Thursday."

Clarke offers her a smile. "We will, thanks so much for everything."

With a nod, Anya is gone, the door closing behind her just as Rosamie and the girl – Ella – appear in the doorway with a large pitcher of what looks like lemonade and a tray with glasses.

"Your friend cannot stay?" Rosamie asks, waiting until Ella puts the glasses down and then pouring the drink into them.

"No, she's going back to Manila," Clarke tells her. "We weren't sure if we would need an interpreter, so she offered to come with us, but we're doing fine so she decided to head out."

Rosamie nods. "You are not going back to Manila today?" She holds out a glass to Clarke, who accepts it with a smile, and then one to Bellamy as well.

"No, we have a room at a hotel here until Thursday," he replies, taking the glass and having a sip. "This is really good, what is it?"

She continues to hand the glasses out until everyone has one, then sits down in the armchair next to Bellamy. "It is called calamansi juice, we make it from a fruit we use much for cooking. It is very nice in the summer, it is, how do you say… fresh?"

"Refreshing?" Bellamy suggests, and she nods.

"Yes, refreshing. Some words, I cannot think what to say in English."

Clarke takes a drink from her glass as well – it really is refreshing. "Your English is very good," she says. Both Rosamie and Danilo have a pretty heavy accent, it's true, but they're still easy to understand.

Rosamie reaches across Bellamy to pat Clarke's hand. "Thank you, sinta."

The word – Clarke assumes it's some sort of endearment – apparently reminds Bellamy that he hasn't introduced her to his grandmother.

"Sorry, this is my girlfriend Clarke."

"Clarke," Rosamie repeats. "It is very nice to meet you. I am Rosamie, Bellamy's grandmother, and this is my husband Danilo, our granddaughter – your cousin, Bellamy – Ella and our great grandsons Daniel and Nicholas."

The three children have all crawled up into another of the armchairs, and one of the boys waves a little shyly when he hears his name. Clarke waves back and he quickly hides his face against Ella's shoulder.

"And you… you know who I am?" Bellamy says, the inflection making it sound like a question.

Rosamie takes his hand in hers. "Of course. You look just like your father." She holds up a finger before getting to her feet and going over to a book case against the opposite wall, where she pulls out what looks like a photo album. When she's sat down again, she opens the album to the first page. "See?"

Clarke leans over Bellamy to be able to see as well and, yeah, there is no doubt whatsoever that the man in the photo is Bellamy's father. His skin is a little darker, his hair cut short so she can't tell if it curled the same way Bellamy's does, but it's still completely obvious. The eyes, the nose, the chin, all these little details are the same.

Bellamy has reached out, seemingly unknowingly, not quite touching the photo.

"My mom had a couple of photos," he says after a moment. "But they were all bad Polaroids or from old photo boots, you know? And the passport photo wasn't very good either. I didn't know I looked so much like him."

Rosamie pats his cheek gently. "My beautiful boy."

Clarke's not sure if she means Bellamy, his dad, or both of them.

"Your mother, she is not with you?" Danilo pipes in from the other sofa across the table.

Bellamy shakes his head. "No, she… she died, thirteen years ago this summer."

Rosamie's eyes turn sad. "Oh, mahal, I am so sorry."

He offers her a smile. "It's been a long time, but thank you."

She watches him closely for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether to ask anything else, but in the end, she just nods and turns the page, to reveal another photo of the same man, this time leaning against a car with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

"This is before he left for America," she says. "The last time we saw him."

"Did you have any contact after he left?" Bellamy asks, tearing his eyes from the photo.

"Oh, yes." Rosamie nods, a small smile on her face. "He called us every month, and sent letters too."

Another page, and another photo, this one of a man and a woman, and Clarke hears Bellamy pull in a sharp breath.

"Mom…"

This time he does touch the photo, tracing his mother's face and then his father's.

"He loved your mother very much," Rosamie says quietly. "And she loved him, I believe."

Bellamy looks up at her. "Yeah?"

"I spoke to her a little one time when Isko called," she says with a small smile. "Of course, I cannot be sure, but… a mother knows."

He nods, moving to turn the page but freezing at the last moment. She nods to tell him that it's fine, and he flips to the next page.

"Is that you?" Clarke asks, leaning closer to get a better look.

The photo's of a baby, wrapped in a blanket and cradled in someone's arms, so it's hard to tell, but the dark hair is already curling a little at the ends and she thinks she can discern a dusting of freckles.

"I had no idea he sent pictures," Bellamy says, voice incredulous.

"Oh, yes, many pictures," Rosamie confirms. "He wanted us to know you, even if we could not come there and see you. It was too expensive, you see, we could not… Dani lost his work and we had the other children, we…"

Bellamy reaches out to take her hand, cutting her off. "I understand, trust me. It wasn't your fault, it was just… I get it."

She nods and squeezes his hand before turning her attention back to the album.

And there really are a lot of pictures. She flips through the rest of the album, which is full of photos cataloguing the first months of Bellamy's life, at least one a week, as far as Clarke can tell. On the final page is one of the whole family – Aurora sitting on a chair with Bellamy in her lap, Francisco standing behind her, hands on her shoulders. Both of the adults have happy smiles on their faces and Bellamy seems fascinated by something behind the camera, eyes wide and one hand reaching for whatever it is. Clarke's no expert on babies by any means, but she would probably put him at eight or nine months old.

"This was the last one he sent," Rosamie says quietly. "It came the day after they called from the embassy to tell us…"

She doesn't finish the sentence, and Danilo appears at her side, hand squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. It's clear that their son's death still affects them both very much.

"Isko always called us from a payphone with one of those… cards," he says. "He said it was cheaper. So we never had a phone number for him, or an address. We tried to find you and your mother after he died, but… it was hard from here. We could not afford to get anyone to help, so there was not much we could do."

"We tried," Rosamie adds, voice pleading. "We asked the embassy but we only had her first name and yours…"

Clarke can feel Bellamy let out a long breath next to her and knows hearing this must be such a relief. They didn't just forget about him or never care. They tried.

"It's OK," he says, squeezing Rosamie's hand. "I understand. I don't know if my mom could have… if she knew anything. Maybe she could have reached out to you. But she was…her parents threw her out when she was sixteen, I think she had a hard time trusting people after that."

"Well, you are here now," Rosamie says with a determined nod. "What is it they say, better later than not at all?"

"Better late than never," Bellamy corrects her with a smile.

"Yes, that."

A loud cry comes from somewhere in the house at that moment, startling both Clarke and Bellamy. Rosamie, though, just gets to her feet.

"Our great granddaughter," Danilo explains when she's disappeared into the hallway. "The boys' sister, she is seven months old. We have both retired, so we take care of the little ones when their parents work. Ella, Nicholas, Daniel, Marisol and their cousin Aira, but she is with her mother today."

Ella has moved from the armchair, where the two boys are having some sort of kicking war, by the looks of it, and curled up next to her grandfather on the sofa instead. Bellamy offers her a smile.

"It must be nice, to get to hang out with your grandparents and the kids all day, huh?" he asks and she looks up at Danilo, who says something in Filipino – probably translating what Bellamy just said. When he finishes, she looks back at Bellamy and nods.

"The children, they learn English in school," Danilo explains. "She will start in the fall."

"Right, of course."

Rosamie returns then, sitting down in the armchair she left with a drowsy looking girl in her lap. She blinks up at the strangers before rubbing her eyes and leaning against Rosamie.

"It's nice that you're able to help with the kids like this," Bellamy notes, but she waves him off.

"They are family, it is what you do," she says, eyes darting between the two of them. "You have no children?"

Bellamy's eyes widen, so Clarke responds. "No, we haven't been together that long. And Bellamy's working on his Bachelor degree, so it's not really the best time for that."

"Oh, you are still in school?" Rosamie asks, curious.

Back on firmer ground, Bellamy nods. "Yeah. Mom died just before I was supposed to go to college, so I put school off so I could take care of my sister."

"Sister?"

He smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding a photo from their visit to Dublin and showing her. "Octavia, she's twenty-six. I had just turned eighteen when Mom died and she was thirteen. Her dad was never around, I couldn't let her go to a foster family or something, and I managed to get custody of her for a few years, until she turned eighteen. I didn't go back to school until a few years ago, and now I'm working full-time and taking night classes."

If he notices that he's talking in the present tense, he doesn't let it on. And, of course, he can't exactly tell them that he's quit his job and won't be going back to school because he'll be dead in a few months, so this is probably the best way.

"She is very beautiful," Rosamie offers. "And she is doing well?"

Bellamy smiles. "She is, yeah. It was rocky for a while, but she has a good job that she loves and lives with her boyfriend in Dublin now, so I think I did something right."

"You did everything right," Clarke corrects, squeezing his hand, and he gives her a grateful smile.

One of the twins appears at Rosamie's side and says something. She nods and replies, and he takes off into the hallway.

"Daniel reminded me that it is time for lunch," she says when she turns back to them. "I forgot, with all the excitement. Would you like to stay and eat with us? Unless you have something planned…"

"We would love to," Bellamy quickly assures her.

"Yes, of course," Clarke adds. "The only plans we have for our stay here is to get to know Bellamy's family, so I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with us for a while."

Rosamie's smile widens at her words. "Good."

AN: All Filipino words in this chapter are from Google Translate (which hurts my translator heart to use), so please forgive any errors. I've tried to double check on , but it's not always easy to be sure anyway. Both "sinta" and "mahal" are basically endearments, like "dear" or "sweetheart"