Chapter Eight

Emori

The afternoon is lazy and humid, and Emori is very glad that she and Murphy have officially finished all of their chores for the day. They're lying down on their bed, though it might be a few degrees cooler if they wanted to give up the bed and venture outside. Their window is wide open to catch the breeze, though the breeze right now is about as slow and lazy as Emori feels.

"I'm sick of mushrooms," Murphy declares. "I know, I know. Algae. We went for six years eating nothing but algae and we're spoiled here. But every damn meal we've eaten the past two weeks has had mushrooms in one form or another."

Emori chuckles. "At least it's not rats. Anything's better than eating rats again."

His stomach churns loudly at that thought, and Emori again giggles.

"Okay, fine. Can't fight you on that one. And at least we have plenty of stuff to eat along with the five pounds of mushrooms every day." Murphy shifts to turn on his side, facing her. "Hey…" he begins.

For a second Emori is thinking that he's going to ask for sex, and as much as she enjoys it, she's a bit too hot and tired for it right now. She hates to decline him though. She doesn't think Murphy's ever declined her advances, and she's made many over the years. She's never had a problem initiating things with him.

But Murphy apparently has a different idea. "Do you want to…play Bring Me Something?"

Emori laughs again. She knows she has to give Murphy full credit. Not only has he been patient and kind during the weeks since the miscarriage but he also keeps making her laugh.

"As long as you're the Bringer. Sure."

Bring Me Something is a game that Murphy and Emori invented on the ring. Although the others all rolled their eyes and acted like they hated it, their people on the ring often went along and played it too. It doesn't require much equipment. Murphy and Emori have exported it to Skyring as well, though both Jackson and Clarke made some strange faces the first time they were told of it. But everyone here has played it more than once now. Bring Me Something involves the Guesser lying down and either closing their eyes or putting a blindfold on. The Bringer (or Bringers – there can be multiple) then simply brings items to the Guesser, placing them in their hands. The Guesser has to guess what the item is. The Bringer is not permitted to put anything "gross" on the Guesser's hand.

The game enables them to pass the rest of the afternoon, though with Murphy constantly scrounging for items inside and outside of the cabin, Emori guesses he's sweating and not doing much relaxing. She correctly identifies things like blades of grass, the most prolific weed that plagues their garden, leaves, a tomato, a teacup, a canteen, a mushroom, a comb, and Murphy's spare pair of pants.

"Okay. I need a break," Murphy declares, and again joins Emori back on the bed.

"Hey John," Emori begins, opening her eyes back up. "I was thinking. Maybe we should try to have a baby. I know we weren't trying before, but I realized now that I do want one."

"Yeah. I'm all in," he says simply.

"Really?" Emori asks, adjusting herself so she can see his face better. She knows she's smiling.

"Really. Let's do it." He quickly amends his statement, "Not right now though."

"No. A game of Bring Me Something really takes it out of you," she jokes.

"And it's too damn hot," he adds. "Nighttime is better. Or first thing in the morning. Or after bath time. Or before garden work." Murphy pauses and adds, his voice moving from playful to serious now, "But yeah. I'm ready to send the calendar method to hell. Let's actually try to make a baby."

Clarke

Clarke and Bellamy have done the impossible. They have fallen asleep, and remained asleep, together atop one of the small bunk beds inside their room. Bellamy's old pile of blankets remains on the floor unused.

It's been over a month since Madi insisted they take the room, and until this point, neither felt that sharing one of the small beds was ever going to be truly possible. Their bodies are deemed too large and the bed too small, and the simple fact is that neither is accustomed to sleeping with their limbs entwined with another's. Bellamy has told Clarke that he and Echo, of course, shared a bed on the ring but it was a large one and each kept to their own side of it for slumber. Clarke has mentioned that a few times she fell asleep in a bed with Niylah, "but it was usually because I was bone-tired – and even then we didn't sleep wrapped up together. We each kept to our sides."

Madi's old bed, the top bunk, is now being used as a storage space for odds and ends like clothing that needs to be washed. Bellamy's letters to Octavia are placed inside the drawers of the room's sole dresser. He also likes to, in his spare time, search for wildflowers to give to Clarke, and they brighten up the room from atop the dresser. As always, Clarke and Bellamy still ask Madi whether she wants the room back and she continues to decline.

Neither Clarke nor Bellamy really thought they could manage it, could actually fall asleep and remain asleep without someone's elbow poking someone's ribs, without feeling too warm against another person's body heat, without one wanting to turn over thus requiring the other to wake up and readjust. But they have done it. This night, after some very enthusiastic and fulfilling lovemaking, they have fallen asleep together. Bellamy is on his back, and Clarke is mostly on her side, draped atop him.

Although Clarke's neck twinges mildly from the suboptimal angle it's at, she easily slips into unconsciousness with Bellamy. Her breathing matches his. Her brain spends a few moments replaying kisses and caresses and some of the words he murmured. She especially savors replaying his eagerness to please and his reassurances that they have all the time they need, that he wants her to enjoy this. She enjoys it, that is for sure.

He starts to lightly snore, and minutes later, Clarke is as passed out as Bellamy.

But she wakes some time later when she hears a strange noise.

Coming out of sleep is a strange thing, Clarke knows. You do it every day. Unless an alarm is blaring or someone is urgently tugging at your sleeve (neither of which happens on Skyring), the process of waking up often happens gradually. Sometimes you just slowly become aware that there is a disturbance, an event, unfolding around you. That's how it is with Clarke this night. As her eyes flutter and she passes from unconsciousness to consciousness, it gradually dawns on her that something is happening. A loud whoosh is sounding outside, the wind is starting to howl, and the color green – which used to feel nourishing but right now feels horrifying – is streaming through the window.

Clarke's breathing intensifies as she lies there for several seconds. I need to wake up Bellamy. Tell him that it's here and he needs to go. Rush with him towards the lake and watch him get sucked up into it, without even a chance for a decent goodbye.

Clarke waits two or three more seconds. This will be one of the hardest things she's ever done, in a life that's already far too full of agonizing decisions. But she knows the fact that she has already hesitated so long – though in reality it's not more than seven or eight seconds – means she has already messed up.

"Bellamy! It's back! Get up!"

Bellamy takes just a few seconds to wake and register what's happening. He looks at Clarke and looks at the green light shining through their window. He looks down and seems to register that he's wearing nothing more than his boxers. Clarke sees him hesitate. Is he deciding whether to put on more clothing before charging out towards the lake or is he hesitating because part of him doesn't want to go? A few seconds go by. He looks at her, and she nods.

He then seems to make up his mind, springing from the bed. Bellamy pulls open the dresser drawer that contains his pants, and puts them on. He slips his shoes on quickly as well. He then looks at Clarke again.

"I'll go with you to the lake," she says, offering him his hand, showing him with her body language that she won't slow him down.

Bellamy nods. Against the backdrop of the steadily dimming green light, Clarke can read his features. He's definitely hesitating. If he'd spent even just the previous few seconds moving faster, he could have been halfway to the lake by now. And given that this is the second time the anomaly has reappeared here, Clarke already knows enough to determine that it's dissipating. The whooshing noises are rapidly dying down and the green light is fading.

He grabs her hand and they move. She lets him set the pace, and he's not running. Clarke would describe it as a very brisk walk. As they enter the main room of the cabin, Clarke turns her head and sees Madi in her usual spot by the fireplace. She's sitting up already and Clarke hears her get up to follow. Clarke and Bellamy exit the cabin, continuing their trek towards the lake. The anomaly continues to die down. The couple walks past the garden, towards the trail leading to the lake, and in the intervening seconds, the anomaly has completely left. They slow down their pace, knowing what has happened. They reach the lake and, by then, the night is once again quiet and still. There is no trace of the anomaly, and the beach looks exactly as it had before.

Footsteps sound behind them, the crunch of shoes walking over leaves and stones.

"Everything okay? It was here again, wasn't it?" Madi asks, walking up to the pair. She stands next to Clarke who, like Bellamy, is gazing at the lake.

"It was," Bellamy answers. "We missed it."

Clarke registers not just what Bellamy said but also how he says it. His words by themselves could have been melancholy, could have been desolate. But they are not. They are straightforward and factual, as if he were updating his commanding officer in the guard about an event that took place during a patrol.

Madi looks from Bellamy's face to Clarke's, and Clarke wonders if perhaps her daughter isn't sure what to say. "We'll be okay, Madi," Clarke says. "Why don't you go back to bed?"

"Okay. 'Night."

With that, Madi turns back the way she came. Clarke and Bellamy remain standing by the lake. They are quiet for several moments.

"Well," Bellamy says, with a sigh, "that's that. Unless I start sleeping on the beach every night, I don't know how I can keep from missing it."

Clarke knows she has something to tell him, knows she must do it. It's easier, first, to provide some facts. "It hasn't been that long since the last one appeared. Just under eight weeks," she says, tilting her head.

"We can start to track whether they appear regularly," he states. "Unless we all sleep through them," he adds with a wry laugh. Miller and Jackson arrived in Skyring three months before the others. They said they never saw the anomaly during their time alone here, but Jackson had added, 'We've both been sleeping like rocks since we got here. So we might've missed it.'

"That will be the hard part," Clarke acknowledges with a nod. "We don't know how many might have happened – or will happen – while we're asleep. Last time it didn't leave any trace, any evidence that it was here. And I don't see anything different now. Of course it's kind of hard to see. We'll take another look in the morning." Clarke knows her words are tumbling out a bit too rapidly.

"Hey Clarke?" Bellamy begins softly. "Are you okay? Your voice is….maybe shaking a bit."

Clarke exhales and meets Bellamy's eyes. It's dark tonight; the moon is fairly dim. She's not sure if she should be relieved that she can't see him too well right now or whether it would be better to be able to observe and react to each of his expressions. "I messed up tonight, Bellamy. I hesitated," she admits, keeping her words grave and heavy. "I wasted…at least seven seconds before I got you up."

"Seven seconds!" Bellamy says with mock horror, and he's clearly smiling. "Oh Clarke," he adds, and again his tone leaves no guesses. He's bemused and not the least bit angry.

"Bellamy," Clarke begins, swallowing, "this is serious. Seven seconds could have made a difference. I-I'm sorry."

He steps even closer to her and takes a hold of one of his hands. "Clarke. It's okay," he says, his voice quiet and soothing. He squeezes her hand. "I hesitated the first time it came here, eight weeks ago. I probably knew deep down back then that I didn't want to leave you and Madi. And I hesitated today too. Didn't move anywhere near as fast as I could've/" He tilts his head and adds, "I was gonna say that forgiving each other is just something we do. But I really don't even think there's anything to forgive here. So you didn't need to say sorry."

"R-really?" Clarke asks. She knows her voice is about to break. From the moment she set foot on earth all those years ago, she has tried her best, she has borne responsibility so that others wouldn't have to, she's made decisions between impossible choices, and she has – at times – been scorned, yelled at, and sometimes even hated for it. Wasn't tonight just another terrible decision?

"Really," he confirms simply. "So you hesitated a few seconds. You didn't mean any harm." He snorts and shakes his head. "Probably did me some good in the long run. Like we've all said a hundred times…for all we know, that green mist won't take me back to Sanctum. Maybe it will deposit me in some weird, alternate universe where people wear white robes and try to get you to join a cult."

Clarke can only appreciate both his forgiveness but also his attempt at humor. "Where the hell did that come from?" she laughs. Her body needs the laughter and it feels good.

"I was actually having a strange dream about that right when you woke me," Bellamy answers. He's still smiling. He then reaches for her and kisses her mouth.

"Come on," he says, tilting his head in the direction of the cabin. "Let's go back to bed. We've got a long day of farm work and a long day of Murphy complaining about the heat ahead of us."

Clarke holds his hand as they walk back to the cabin. Is it really that easy? He accepts that I hesitated and isn't mad? He just loves me and accepts how this night went?

With those thoughts, Clarke settles back into bed with Bellamy. It's easier this time, the process of curling their bodies together on a too-small bed. She loves the feel of his solidness, his strength. He always has been her rock, she knows.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too, Clarke. I'm so glad I'm here with you."

Jackson

Jackson overhears Madi tell Clarke that she's "glad you're still here". He also overhears Clarke's response, "I was never going to leave" before deciding that he has to walk away before 'overhearing' turns into full-blown 'eavesdropping'. In any case, he suspects he will get a full run-down over breakfast.

And indeed, once the group sits down to their first meal of the day, Clarke and Bellamy explain what happened last night. Jackson observes them as they speak.

"Bellamy seemed really relaxed – uh, for lack of a better word – about the whole thing," Jackson says to Miller later that morning. They are tasked with the washing and hanging of clothing out back, behind the cabin, and so they are out of earshot of the others. "Do you think maybe he understands that it doesn't make logical sense to run into the anomaly without knowing where it'll take him?"

Miller snorts. "Bellamy's always been a 'heart over head' kinda guy. Maybe it's just that he's a guy in love who doesn't really want to be separated from the woman he's crazy about." Miller pauses and wrings out the garment he's been scrubbing. "But on the other hand, doesn't staying here make sense either way?"

Jackson grasps his meaning and nods. "There's no reason to run into the anomaly from either the perspective of his head or his heart. Logically it makes no sense because we know nothing about it. And emotionally, for goodness' sake, stay with the woman you love!"

"Exactly."

They work in silence for a few more minutes. Jackson wonders whether the anomaly truly appears every eight weeks or whether it has no pattern. He and Miller just didn't hear it at all during their three months here alone, and it's strange to think that it may have been appearing but they slept through it each time.

"I wonder if it does go back to where we came from," Miller says, after he has pinned a few items to the clothesline. "Is it really that easy? Just hop into the green goo and you're beamed back to Sanctum?"

"Seems too good to be true." Jackson smiles, "But so does this place, and yet here we are." He takes a step closure to Miller. There's no breeze right now but there is a bright sun which should dry the clothing quickly. "I really do wonder if we'll spend the rest of our lives here. And will…will it be hard for Madi? She's hardly ever been around other kids."

"And if she lives the rest of her life here, she'll never get to fall in love." Miller's tone is serious but he shrugs. "Maybe a weird thing to think about, but…having you makes me so happy that I feel bad for someone who won't ever get the chance to have a love like this."

Jackson touches Miller's shoulder. "Now that we've been here a while and we've gone for so long without having to worry about getting stabbed or thrown into the fighting pits or bodysnatched…that is the kind of thing I think about. Having a partner is one of the ways I survived all that."

Miller lowers his voice. "If Murphy and Emori ever do have kids, their kids will face the same thing. No boyfriend or girlfriend." He tilts his head. "Unless…well, unless Clarke and Bellamy have some kids someday. But yeah….having a partner like you is a big reason why I survived that bunker." He reaches for Jackson's hand, which is still wet from the laundry water like his.

Miller is about to kiss Jackson when Murphy is suddenly there and saying, somewhere between a yell and a mutter, "Get a room."

Jackson watches Miller refrain from making a snarky reply and then, when Murphy has gone on his way, Jackson whispers, "I wonder how much of that he overheard."

"Don't sweat it," Miller replies. "It can't be anything that he and Emori haven't discussed 100 times."

Jackson knows he doesn't need to verbalize his next thought. They both know that Murphy and Emori are trying for a baby, and they both fervently hope her second pregnancy goes better than her first. He then sees Emori following after Murphy, holding a basket. She calls to Jackson and Miller to let them know that they are going foraging.

"Hey," Miller says, tapping Jackson's arm. His voice is light and hopeful. "Clarke, Bellamy, and Madi are working on the garden – and those two have gone off foraging. No one's near the lake now. So….let's try what we talked about."

Jackson meets Miller's eyes, and he swallows. He looks in the direction of the lake though it's out of visual range. "Okay," he says, after a few beats. "First time for everything." He takes a breath. "Let's do it."

"You're gonna have your first swimming lesson," Miller says smiling. "And trust me, you're gonna love it."

It's terrifying and it's strange but Miller is a good teacher, and Jackson soon finds that he can be submerged in water and he can fight through the fear. When he and Miller return to the cabin, the others congratulate Jackson on this milestone and even Murphy looks sincerely happy for him as he grumbles, "Took you long enough."

TBC

Author's Note: I'll be winding down the fic after this, so if you have any requests for the last chapter, please let me know. Thank you again to everyone who has read and commented!