a/n Thank you to everyone who has read, enjoyed and reviewed this story. It's super encouraging, as I was a bit nervous about how this sequel would be received. Happy reading!
Monty is a fan of peace. This realisation comes to him quite suddenly on the third morning back on the ground. He thought he was a fan of space, as they were preparing to return here and he found himself dreading a repeat of the terrible times they lived through five years ago, but he's beginning to understand that it isn't the ground that's the problem. It's the conflict. And conflict couldn't be further from the domestic bliss that envelopes this valley like a child's favourite blanket.
He didn't know Clarke and Bellamy had it in them, to live a life like this, he thinks. He can scarcely believe that they are the same two people who pulled that lever in Mount Weather. But then, every time he starts to think that, perhaps, the world has ended and they have entered some alternate reality, Bellamy gives that lopsided grin or Clarke gives one of her unnecessary instructions and he knows that his friends haven't gone anywhere, they've just grown up. And they've grown together, too, that much is obviously true, as she wordlessly invites him to cook breakfast with a quirk of her eyebrow and he presses a lingering kiss to her forehead as he makes haste to acquiesce.
He wonders if it would be like that between him and Harper, that open, that affectionate, that demonstrative, if they had two enchanting children too. Their relationship is great – how could it not be, when she is incredible and he is no idiot? - but he knows that she carries with her more sadness than she is willing to admit at the fact that they haven't had any luck in the childbearing department. And it didn't really bother him, and he was essentially happy for it to be just the two of them, until they got here and he saw the way that Madi and Gus just complete Clarke and Bellamy, somehow.
"Any plans for the day, Monty?" Clarke serves him a portion of some kind of grain porridge and he represses the shiver of excitement he still feels at eating anything that isn't algae. After all, it wouldn't do for anyone to realise quite how much their designated algae chef hated the stuff.
"Not sure, really. This looks great, Bellamy, thanks."
"Almost as good as cheese and inexplicable carrot pasta." His friend responds with a grin, which makes no sense to him at all, but has Clarke and Madi giggling like mad.
"Please stop being so sickening, guys." Murphy flops into a seat at the breakfast table as he speaks. "And get on with telling us what we're doing today."
"Shouldn't we wait until everyone's here?" Clarke asks, ever the organiser, as she begins her morning battle with Gus, porridge, and a spoon.
"I think this is it." Emori speaks up from her place by Harper's side. "I think... Raven and Echo are probably going to eat together."
"That does seem to happen." Bellamy notes thoughtfully, and Monty can't decide whether to smirk or wince at the mention of the ill-defined closeness that has come to exist between his two friends over the years.
Of course, Murphy has no qualms at all about drawing attention to the tension between them.
"Yeah. One day they'll stop mooning over each other at breakfast and start screwing."
Madi snorts with laughter even as Clarke reaches out to cover her daughter's ears. "Sounds like these two." The girl contributes with a nod at her parents, and Monty finds himself slightly flummoxed yet again at the thought that this impertinently precocious girl isn't even twelve years old yet.
"Stop it." Clarke instructs her with a smile in her voice. "I do not like this adolescent rebellion phase."
"Yes. You do." Bellamy disagrees cheerfully and receives an elbow to the ribs for his trouble.
"Anyway. Plans for the day?" Emori as usual brings the conversation back to something vaguely resembling sanity.
"We could do with going on a hunting trip and smoking some more meat before we go on this trip." Bellamy suggests with a questioning look at Murphy.
"Sure." He replies easily. "Let's take Echo, too, when she eventually leaves the house."
"I'd like to grab some more seaweed. You coming along, Madi?" Clarke receives an enthusiastic nod in answer to her question.
"We can watch Gus, if you like." Harper volunteers quietly, and he reaches out for her hand under the table.
"That's kind of you, if you don't mind. We won't be out too long, it's Lion King night." Clarke explains less than helpfully.
"Lion King night?" Harper sounds as confused as Monty feels.
"Well, Lion King afternoon, since we gained a toddler." That clarification doesn't make things much clearer, he thinks.
"We're going to need more than that. We can't all read your mind like Bellamy does."
"We watch Lion King together every week." Madi pipes up helpfully. "We have done ever since we watched it together when Bellamy started teaching me how to shoot."
"You know, you should stop trying to explain." Murphy recommends sagely. "You're only making it sound weirder."
…...
Clarke doesn't make a big deal of Bellamy's absence from breakfast on the day they are to leave for Polis. She makes a start on the cooking, and Madi, perceptive as ever, does not make a fuss about this unusual and slightly worrying departure from the script, but her eyes reflect every bit of the concern that Clarke feels. She's not sure quite what can have happened to him in the last couple of hours - he was still asleep when she left their bed that morning, keen to make the most of her last opportunity to sketch her favourite spot by the river in peace. While the porridge is simmering she makes some flimsy excuse about checking she's packed and heads for the house.
"Do you want me to come too?" Madi murmurs to her as she passes, and she feels her chest swell with love for this girl who is just as big-hearted as her father.
She gives the merest shake of her head, and continues towards the threshold.
She's not sure what she's expecting to find on her arrival – perhaps Bellamy weeping, or wailing, or wallowing in his anxiety – but she is certainly not expecting the sight that meets her as she enters the bedroom. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, dry eyes staring vacantly at the worn wallpaper, immaculately dressed but for one key point.
He isn't wearing any socks.
She's not convinced he hears her as she pads softly towards the wardrobe and grabs a pair of socks. If he does sense her presence, he gives no indication of it, but carries on with that empty gaze which is making her so nervous. Slowly, she kneels at his feet. Tenderly, she makes a start at putting on his socks. Silently, she runs her hands over his feet as she pulls them into place.
"Thank you." He says softly as she pulls his trouser leg back into position, and her hand stills, wrapped around his calf.
"No problem. I am more or less a doctor, I've seen worse things than your feet."
He laughs at that, only a little hysterically, and bends forward to bury his face in her hair and wrap his arms firmly around her shoulders.
"Admit it. You've been waiting for this moment for five years."
"Yes." She disentangles herself from him and moves to sit by his side on the bed, instead. "Want to tell me what's going on? Pretty sure you don't have radiation sickness, this time."
"I don't even know what's going on. I was doing so well, and then – I don't know, I got stuck."
"Come on." She stands and takes his hand and pulls him slowly to his feet. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we find out whether she's OK."
"And the sooner we find out whether anyone wants to kill our children."
"Oh, I can't imagine they'd have much luck if they tried. Have you seen us? You and me together, we're unstoppable."
…...
Madi is not stupid. She sees the way Harper looks at her, the disappointment that she is not as sweet as her brother writ large on the young woman's face, and she's not missed the glances Murphy and Monty throw at each other every time she says something a little too bold for her years. She can't help it. She's the daughter of Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin, for goodness' sake. She was never going to be particularly ordinary. And she knows her way around their people as well as she knows her way around a knife or a gun or a med kit. As well as she hopes to know her way around a peace treaty, if ever such a thing should be necessary.
But, for all this, she is still a child, and she still wants to be liked, and she still doesn't much fancy spending the day sitting in the back of a rover with a load of people that she has loved since she was six years old, but who seem not to have decided to love her, not quite yet. With a heavy heart, she picks up her overnight bag and walks towards the place where her parents stand next to the rover directing operations.
"I guess I'll get in the back with the others?" She asks, but it's not really a question, and she can't help the way her shoulders slump as she speaks. "And then I can look after Gus."
Her mother and father make eye contact, and hold it for a long moment, and she finds herself thinking for the thousandth time in her young life that, one day, she hopes she might have that kind of connection with someone.
"Ride up front with Bellamy." Clarke suggests with a warm smile. "I think he'd enjoy your company, this morning."
"Yeah, hop in." He gestures to the passenger seat with a smile that would fool almost anyone, she thinks. But she knows him better than that, is sure that there is something afoot here, suspects that it has to do with that mysterious absence from breakfast this morning.
She wraps him in a fierce hug before accepting his invitation. "Can we listen to Don't Stop Me Now the whole way there?"
…...
Bellamy knows what Clarke is up to, but as the day wears on he feels no need to confront her about it. Instead he is simply grateful that he has this wonderful woman in his life who is so adept at caring for him, at knowing what he needs before he knows it himself. Because, of course, Madi's cheerful company and their favourite kitchen music are exactly the things he needs to lift his mood on the way to Polis, to remind him that, no matter what happens, there are still plenty of thoroughly good things in his life.
They arrive at the former city without mishap, and rig up the makeshift tents they have brought, and Murphy of all people volunteers to make supper for a change while he tells stories and his children and lover and friends crowd around and demand their favourites. When he's covered everything from the Trojan horse to Clarke's sacrifice at Praimfaiya and the chill night air is reminding them to seek their beds his daughter pipes up with one last request.
"Tell us what it will be like, when the bunker opens. Tell us how our story ends." He feels Clarke freeze in horror, evidently wondering how he will handle this difficult demand, but he finds himself strangely relaxed about the situation as he sits here, surrounded by the people he loves.
"I can't do that, Madi. You know I don't know the ending yet any more than you do. But I think that, when that bunker opens, you'll have a new grandmother and a new aunt and all the rest of our family. Miller will join us on hunting trips and Jackson will teach you everything you never wanted to know about medicine. And we'll go home to our valley, and everything will be a bit different. But it will be different in a good way, and we'll still be together." It seems that his answer is acceptable, and the girl allows herself a rare moment to be simply a child as she burrows deeper into his embrace.
"Come on. We should go to bed. We've got a big day tomorrow." With that, Clarke ushers them all towards their quarters for the night.
The children are out like lights, both exhausted by the excitement of the day, and he finds himself sitting with Clarke and watching over them. He tucks Gus a little more snugly into his blankets, and she smooths Madi's hair away from her forehead in a gesture she has not made for a good three years at least.
"It's going to be OK." He tells the woman who has been his partner in all things for as long as he can remember, as if it is her that needs convincing, not him.
"Yeah." She agrees softly, and tugs at his shoulders until he curls up next to the children, his head in her lap. "Get some sleep, Bellamy."
He means to stay awake, to help her keep watch over their family, to bear it with her, so she doesn't have to bear it alone. But he's quite tired, really, and her hand is now rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder, and he didn't sleep at all well last night, and before he knows it, dawn is breaking through the slits in their makeshift tent.
He realises that he was woken by a familiar figure pushing aside the flap of the tent, the morning light catching on her blonde hair.
"Morning, princess." He tries to summon something of their usual easy tone, but he feels sick to the pit of his stomach.
"Morning." She greets him with a smile that looks almost as nervous as he feels. "I thought I'd let you sleep in, it seemed better than you being awake and fretting."
"Yeah." He answers quietly, for want of anything more eloquent to say.
"The others are already up and heading for the door. Are you ready to go?"
He wonders absently if he ought to have some breakfast, seeing as he has no idea how long this day might turn out to be, but he's not sure his insides would cope with that right now.
"Let's do this." He gets to his feet and automatically takes the hand that reaches out towards him, acting instinctively as the rising tide of nerves threatens to rob him of his senses.
"I love you." She tells him, and he thinks he says it back, but through the fog of panic he's not altogether sure. As they walk towards the bunker and the rubble blurs to grey around him, his world shrinks to a warm, strong hand in his, and to weak sunlight catching on blond hair, and to a soft voice reminding him I love you.
He's not sure how long they wait. It might be minutes, or it might be hours, or it might be days.
But even in his state of panic, he notices the moment it happens. That door has been closed for five years. And now, suddenly, it is open.
a/n Thanks for reading!