Thank you again to Penguin of Prose for beta testing, and everyone who has left a comment. I realize I haven't specified how many chapters this story will contain. It's not set yet, but at least five.

Chapter Three

Clarke

Clarke, Emori, and Jackson are best at numbers. The three of them have been doing calculations, and repeatedly checking their math. It's been several weeks now since Clarke and the others arrived here, and Bellamy's efforts to return the way they came have accomplished nothing except proving to the others that it's impossible. So the three math experts agree that it's time for a cold, hard look at the numbers.

"You're sure it was three months?" Clarke has asked Jackson. She's holding a stick that they've been using to write out their calculations in the dirt.

He nods. "Eighty-eight days to be exact," Jackson says. "So almost three months."

Clarke looks at Emori. "And we're sure," Emori says with a firm nod, "that no more than 30-35 seconds could've passed from the time we began speaking to Gabriel to the time we went into the anomaly." It might have been a little more, might have been a little less. But Clarke and the others agree that 30 seconds is their best estimate.

The group proofs their calculations again, retracing numbers in new areas of the ground so they can be absolutely certain. If the time difference between Skyring and Sanctum is stable and unchanging – not something they can ever know for sure, but a reasonable assumption – and if it takes Raven and/or Gabriel three days to figure out how to get them back….then more than 2,000 years will have passed on Skyring. Even if it takes Raven half that amount of time, that's still a millennium.

"So, yeah, we're not gonna be around then," Murphy remarks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He and the others have now joined the three mathematicians. They stare at the numbers etched into the dirt. Unexpected clouds are circling in the sky and it looks like rain will arrive soon, wiping out their work.

"Unless Gabriel has some tricks up his sleeve that we don't know about," Clarke says. She shakes her head. "I wish I knew more about him. I wish I'd asked him more about his background and what he knows about the anomaly."

"Hey, not your fault," Bellamy says. He takes a step closer to her and puts his hand on her arm. "You were busy getting body-snatched and trying to keep us all alive."

"Yeah. There wasn't much time for meet and greets," Miller adds.

Clarke takes her free hand, the one whose arm Bellamy isn't touching, and rubs at the side of her head. She has a headache. She'd known, even before they started working the numbers, that it would amount to a very long time. But seeing it laid out starkly and having gone over it dozens of times with the others really lays their situation bare.

Emori

Emori stands with the others as they look at the numbers etched in the dirt and take in the reality of their circumstance. She smiles at Murphy's quip 'So, yeah, we're not gonna be around then,' and realizes she finds his sense of humor as appealing now as she always has.

"Hey," Madi speaks up. "Can we break out that hard cider now?"

"This hardly seems like cause for celebrating," Clarke remarks.

"I know, but Miller said it's ready. And today's as good a day as any," Madi insists.

"Why not?" Emori asks. "I've been craving it ever since Miller mentioned it. Could provide a bit of consolation."

"And it'll get us drunk," Murphy adds. He then quickly looks from Madi to Clarke. "Uh, is Madi allowed to get drunk?"

Emori wonders for a second or two what Clarke's answer will be. Madi looks like she's about to burst with anger, just as Clarke speaks the words firmly and looks at Madi, "You're old enough to decide for yourself if you want to try some. It's not like we have to worry about you driving a rover into a wall."

"Yay!" Madi exclaims.

"Just stay away from the lake, okay?" Clarke asks. "And be ready for the fact that if you drink too much, you'll feel like garbage tomorrow."

"I'll keep it to one cup. And I'll stay away from the lake."

"Good!" Miller says, clasping his hands together. He started working on the apples and yeast soon after he and Jackson arrived, so the concoction has had months to ferment. "I learned a thing or two from Kara Cooper during the six years in the bunker. When she wasn't annoying the hell out of me."

"She was a great farmer," Jackson adds.

"Oh yeah?" Murphy asks, and from his tone Emori is suddenly worried about where this might go. "Didn't the soybean crop fail under her? Isn't that why you became cannibals? So how great of a farmer was she really?"

As Emori watches Miller it looks, for a second or two, as if he's about to lunge at Murphy. He does lunge, but it turns playful instead of violent. "Careful, Murphy!" Miller bellows. "I'm hungry!" He opens his mouth wide and bulges his eyes in a mock-crazy expression.

Murphy and Miller erupt into another round of sparring. Emori has watched Murphy fight plenty of times – they even practiced on each other on the ring – and she senses that this is another harmless letting off of steam. At one point when Miller has Murphy down, he pretends to gnaw on his arm. They continue on, and Madi even makes a comment about how she's going to have to spend the next 2,000 years watching them argue. Emori smiles at that. She then takes a look at Jackson. Oh. He doesn't look as happy about the situation, judging from seeing his arms crossed over his chest and his frown. Emori files that fact away. He's either unhappy about seeing his partner sparring or unhappy at being reminded of the dark year. Maybe both.

Once Murphy and Miller's little fight is over, Emori is back at the cabin with Murphy, Miller, Jackson, and Madi. Clarke has declined to join them, saying that she has a headache and alcohol is the last thing she needs right now. Bellamy says he'll stay with Clarke; a hangover tomorrow won't help him with his daily trek.

"Disgusting," Madi says, taking her first sip. "Truly disgusting."

"I've drunk worse," Murphy says. He takes another sip. Jackson is fiddling with the fireplace to get it ready as that rain looks imminent.

It's strangely chilly and humid inside the cabin, Emori muses and she can't decide if she wants her sweater off or on. She sits there and continues to drink. Miller starts to tell a ghost story, though Emori knows she's only half-listening – perhaps due to the alcohol or perhaps due to the fact that her brain is tired from having spent so much time on calculations. She's never had as much formal education as Clarke or Jackson and she'd been using a lot of brain energy to keep up. She takes another swig of the drink. She thinks of how patient Raven was – usually – on the ring when training her. She imagines Raven spending days then weeks then years on finding a way to bring them back, only to fail. Or perhaps only to finally make it here and find seven skeletons. Or perhaps to only make it here and end up trapped herself. Emori shudders a bit and takes another sip.

"Come on," Madi says, when Miller's story is wrapped up. "Let's play lily pads."

"Let's, uh, do what?" Jackson asks.

"It's a game that I used to play with my Mom when I was young. And later I found out that Bellamy and Octavia used to play it too! We need to go outside though."

Emori's not sure, or perhaps too drunk to speculate much, as to why Madi is so persuasive and has successfully gotten four drunk adults to rise from their seats and obey. Fleetingly she muses that she's sitting here with a commander. Not that long ago, a frikdreina like Emori would've been considered unworthy to even touch the hem of a commander's cloak. And here Emori is, a few minutes later, hopping around with Madi and the others outside as they laugh their heads off and the rain begins to gently descend.

Clarke

"Are you okay? How bad is this headache?" Bellamy asks. He and Clarke stroll through the forested area.

"It'll go away," Clarke says. "And if it doesn't, there's that feverfew tea. That always helps."

Unsteady on her feet due to fatigue and the headache, Clarke collides a bit with Bellamy. He reaches out to steady her and, somehow, they are now holding hands. Clarke clutches his hand as her mind begins to suddenly feel clearer. She keeps her gaze forward as they walk.

"Can you believe our lives?" he asks, with a shake of his head and bemusement in his voice.

Clarke glances at Bellamy quickly and sees that he is looking straight ahead. She resumes doing the same.

He continues, "We're living in this place where time moves differently than on the planet we were just on." He then corrects himself, "The moon we were just on. A moon which took a century to get to from earth."

"Which we left after the only inhabitable land on was blown up," Clarke adds, matching his wry tone. "Which happened six years after the second apocalypse. Sometimes I still can't believe we spent a century asleep." She continues to hold his hand. The other day when he'd touched her arm, she'd been surprised at how soft his hand was. It's still soft, she notes.

"We have been through a lot," Bellamy sums up. "And those are just the headlines."

"I'm glad we've been through it together," Clarke says, and she knows her voice conveys weight.

"Except for when we weren't together," he says, his regret laid bare given the suddenly ragged notes in his voice. "I left you on earth when we escaped in the rocket. I-"

"You did as I asked." Clarke's voice is less firm as she adds, "And I….left you. In the pits—"

It is his turn to cut her off. He shakes his head. "You did what you needed to do. To save Madi." He exhales. "We've been through so much shit together. I'm good with just putting that behind us."

"Me too. I'm just glad that we're not separated now."

They continue to hold hands and walk, but in silence now. Clarke thinks about the significance of their holding hands. Is this simply one friend holding onto the one who is unsteady on her feet, or more?

I want it to be more. Clarke says the words to herself, understanding their truth. I thought of him every day after Praimfaya. Then we were reunited– and back to fighting for our lives. And then I saw him kiss Echo, and reminded myself that I can't fall in love, can't have any attachments other than Madi, can't open myself up to more pain. And now we're here. This quiet and peaceful place that we might – might – spend the rest of our lives on.

But, Clarke reminds herself as they control to stroll in silence, that doesn't change the fact that I don't know how Bellamy feels about me. Or the fact that people I love tend to die.

Just then, Clarke feels the first splotch of rain and simultaneously drops Bellamy's hand. She wipes the drop from her forehead. "Did you feel that? We should head back to the cabin."

She glances at him now, unsure of how to read his expression. He looks intense and serious. That look makes her heart lurch a bit, which is why she needed to keep her gaze away from him when they had been holding hands.

"Okay," he finally says, after several moments. "Let's go then."

They arrive back at the cabin to the sight of the others leaping around in the rain.

"Are-are we the ones who are drunk?" Bellamy asks. "Because I don't believe what I'm seeing."

Emori

Later that night, Emori is curled up next to Murphy on the floor. The additions to the cabin are coming along well, but right now they still have just one bed and it's Jackson and Miller's turn for it. Emori's been drunk before, and she vaguely remembers in the past sleeping well after drinking. Tonight she's not asleep, though the reason, she believes, is a good one. It's just that she's really enjoying the feeling of Murphy next to her, really enjoying listening to the rain outside and the fireplace's usual comforting crackle.

"I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life here with you."

Murphy whispers the words to Emori. She'd been pretty sure he was awake though she wasn't positive, so she hadn't initiated any conversation with him.

"Me too," she whispers back. They shift position slightly so he's on his back now and her head rests on his chest. She faintly smells the drink on him and it's not unpleasant. "Can't do much about it anyway. It's nice here, and the food is a lot better than on the ring. The people are good." She runs her fingers along his stubble, enjoying the feel.

"Yeah, like those two cannibals. One who kept us at gunpoint while the other tried to use you as a human experiment."

"You know, despite all that, I kind of like them," Emori whispers back and they both have to stifle their laughter at the absurdity. Emori almost wants to add 'That shit was on Abby' but doesn't. Murphy loves and misses Abby, so no point in bringing up something to sour her memory. She does whisper, "Come on, Jackson is such a sweet man."

"I thought you don't like sweet," Murphy grumbles.

"You're sweet," Emori smiles, gently poking him. "You just don't show it to that many people."

He grunts in reply and Emori thinks she might hear Madi shifting nearby, so she quiets down. As she finally does drift towards sleep, she thinks about the topic of sweetness. Monty and Harper. They were sweet. Emori couldn't believe it at first when she'd gotten to know them, that two people could be that good. But they had been good, simple as that. Maybe life here would continue to be good as well, whether they were going to stay here for the rest of their lives or whether Raven and Gabriel would work some magic.

Clarke

Clarke is taking a break from working on the cabin additions. The group understands that you can only do so much felling, debarking, sawing, and laying in one day before your body demands a rest, so they allow anyone who needs a break to take it. She's currently sitting in the forested area with her back against a tree, enjoying the sunlight and the clean air.

It's been a month since the drunken lily pads day, since the day she and Bellamy held hands. They've had plenty of little moments since then. Conversations here and there. Another spot of hand-holding during an after-dinner walk. Times when she looks at him and knows there's something there.

But it's hard. She doesn't want to get her heart stomped on again, and he's so focused on getting back to Octavia. He doesn't accept that they might never leave here, which clearly is preventing him from thinking of any future other than getting back to Sanctum. There's nothing pushing them together.

Clarke hears footsteps, and she looks up to see Emori approaching. Once they make eye contact, Emori heads over.

"Mind if I join you?" Emori asks.

"Not at all," Clarke says. "We all need breaks from building out the cabin. It's hard work."

Emori seats herself on the other side of the tree, so that she is resting her back against it as well, but not in eye contact with Clarke. "It is. And I've been so tired lately," Emori adds.

"I know."

Clarke lets her declaration hang in the air for a few moments. She has a good idea of what Emori has come to tell her. It's impossible to keep any sort of secrets here. From the look on Murphy's face yesterday over dinner to the decline in the number of monthly cloths hanging on the clothesline to Emori's inability to keep breakfast down this morning, it's fairly obvious.

"I think I'm pregnant," Emori says.

Since she can't see Emori's face, Clarke tries to read her tone. The four words come out with a few different nuances though Clarke might describe the predominant one as happiness. She uses that as her clue for how to reply. "Congratulations! How- uh, how do you feel about it?"

"Mostly happy. We weren't planning it. But as Murphy out it back on the ring, his birth control implant must've 'crapped out' years ago." Emori repeats the phrase with a sincere laugh, and Clarke joins her. "We've been using the calendar method ever since. I haven't been able to get my hands on any of the herbs that grounders use to prevent pregnancy. Didn't have time to look for any on Sanctum, and haven't found any here."

"And the calendar method just doesn't work every time," Clarke summed up.

"Right. So we had an idea this might happen sooner or later. But we're happy." She adds, "We decided just now to tell everyone."

Clarke turns and shifts her weight a bit so she can see Emori's outline. "Let me know if I can help. And I'm sure the others would agree that if you need more breaks, take them."

"Oh, I will," she responds, with a laugh.

Part of Clarke's mind whirs into doctor mode. She knows that miscarriages are common early in a pregnancy, and she also is fairly sure that Emori can't be too far along. She's likely only missed one or two periods. The doctor part of her brain wants to ascertain whether or not Emori knows how common miscarriages are and wants to try to project a due date. But no. Clarke forces that part of her mind to shut down. It's not like there's a ton of preparation they can do right now.

The two women continue to sit and talk, over nothing in particular now. Clarke finally rises to go back to work, and her mind again spins as she heads back towards the cabin. She knows enough of Emori and Murphy's story on the ring and the struggles he went through which led to their temporary breakup. Murphy would protest otherwise, but Clarke wonders if part of it is that he doesn't handle change well. As Clarke knows quite well from having helped raise Madi, parenthood is one of the biggest changes life can throw at you. Will it crack Murphy?

TBC