a/n Thank you for your wonderful reading and following and favouriting and reviewing. Happy reading!
Bellamy doesn't recognise Octavia straight away. It takes him several long seconds to realise that this black-cloaked red-painted stranger is actually his little sister, and that, perhaps, her frightening appearance as she emerges from the bunker at the head of her people does not bode well.
But he loves her, and he's missed her, so he runs forward to enfold her in his embrace anyway.
"Big brother?" She stammers slightly into his shoulder, and he's vaguely aware that he seems to be crying her name over and over and over again, but that doesn't seem like something he needs to be self-conscious about, given the circumstances. Besides which, he's too busy holding onto her for dear life and thanking the heavens that she's alive.
He can worry about the war paint later, he decides.
It takes him a while to notice the other voices around them, the other bodies, as his friends from space and his acquaintances from the bunker converge, and reluctantly he extracts himself from his sister's arms. He regrets doing so almost immediately. She seemed a lot more like his sister when he couldn't see her face.
"You survived." She states unnecessarily in a tone of wonder.
"Yeah. We did." He agrees as Clarke steps up into her rightful place by his side and the children make haste to follow. "So did you."
"Yeah. We did." She seems to be having difficulty swallowing that idea, though, and it is fast becoming clear to him that there is more afoot here than a bit of misguided makeup and a poor costume choice.
"Bellamy!" Miller interrupts before he can ask what the hell is going on, rushing forward past Indra and Gaia to pull him in for a hug and slap him on the back with enthusiasm.
"Miller. Wow. Hey." He hates himself just a little for how rarely he has thought of his old friend in the last five years, focused for the most part on forgetting the bunker and living his life, preoccupied with his sister when he allowed himself to think of them at all.
"And Clarke. Hey. You're looking well." His friend pulls her in for a hug in turn, and and Bellamy is struck with the obvious thought that it will be his children who are noticed next.
And somehow, suddenly, he doesn't want that to happen. He can't put his finger on it, but he knows that something is very wrong with these people from beneath the ground. He doesn't want a woman who seems to have forgotten how to smile to be the aunt to his children. And Miller, for all his backslapping, looks gaunt and his face still holds a hint of a frown, as if his cheeks have grown fixed in place there with the passing years. And strangest of all is the absence of Abby and Kane, who should surely have wanted to be in this first wave to step through the door. He might not have a clue what's going on, but it is certainly something rather different from the happy family life they have been living. And he doesn't like it, and he doesn't want it eating up his children's childhoods and spitting out the bones.
But then, of course, it is all too late and Octavia is gaping in disbelief at Madi and stepping forward and taking her chin in her hand and he is struck by the horrifying premonition that this frightening stranger could probably snap his strong daughter's fragile neck in two.
The sigh of relief he lets out when she does not do that, but rather kneels at the girl's feet, is rather too loud to be polite.
"Who's this?" She asks, and he glows with pride when Madi bristles at her rude tone, at the implication that she cannot answer for herself.
"I'm Madi." She informs her, showing no sign at all of quavering in the face of this intimidating stranger. "And you're Octavia. You used to like playing a lily pad game that Bellamy thought was really boring. And you loved a man called Lincoln, and he was a hero."
He sees Octavia wilt a little at that, a peep of his little sister and her fear peeping through.
"She's our daughter." He steps in to explain, feeling the need to disguise the truth before someone gets too honest and exposes them. "We found her, and Clarke made her a nightblood, so we could all survive together. We live in a valley that wasn't damaged by Praimfaiya, about a week's walk from here."
"And the boy?" Octavia asks, brow cocked, and he curses himself. Because he had to rush in there, and try to cover up the truth of Madi's blood, and now he's been caught in his ill-thought-out lie and Gus is still a target, and he really ought to have learnt by now to use his head, even in emotional situations like this.
"Gus. He's my brother." Madi states, chin jutting forward in defiance. "And I'd do anything for him."
He's not crying, he tries to convince himself as he feels his eyes grow damp at his daughter's bravery and loyalty. There's just a lot of dust in the air, these days.
…...
Clarke reaches out to take Bellamy's hand in a silent gesture of support that does not go unnoticed by Octavia. She can tell from the way the younger woman's eyes follow the movement movement, lids narrowed slightly as she processes this new development. It is Miller, however, who decides it is worthy of comment.
"Finally." He says with a grin, and Clarke thinks that it almost disguises the permanent frown lines etched on his face. She wonders whether her mother will look like that, too, and wonders for the thousandth time why she is not here yet. Wonders whether perhaps something awful has happened.
"It's good story." Murphy pipes up, not that anyone asked. "They got together because of ducks."
"Ducks?" That at least rouses an interested and rather incredulous reaction from Octavia.
"He made her a duck coop and then she started kissing him. It was a bit frightening, actually." Madi offers, and Clarke finds herself giggling in spite of the tension of the situation.
Her giggles fade away to nothing when the next half a dozen people to leave the bunker are not her mother, either. She can't bear this any longer. She hardens her resolve, and asks Miller the question.
She knows she ought to ask Octavia, but she can't quite overlook the fierceness in her face.
"Miller? Where's my mother?" She asks quietly, and feels Bellamy's warm hand squeeze her own.
"She'll be down in the infirmary." He tells her, but he won't meet her eye, and she can't help feeling that something is very off about the whole of this supposedly happy occasion.
"Did she not want to come and be part of this?" She asks in confusion.
"Well, I suppose she wasn't sure if you'd be here. And you know how it is, she has a lot to do in medical."
Clarke doesn't know how it is. She doesn't know how it is at all. The mother she remembers certainly always had a lot to do in medical, but she was always the first to run towards any chance of seeing her daughter. Did she not try to board a beat-up tin can rocket bound for Earth in the hope of doing so, once upon a time?
"Of course." She answers smoothly, her face a careful mask. "Could you take me to her? I'd like to see her."
"Bring her up here." Octavia orders instead, and Clarke can't quite make sense of that. How is it any different, whether they meet here or there? And if medical is so busy, would it not be quicker for her to go to the infirmary?
"I'll be right back." Miller promises, and disappears into the gaping mouth of the bunker.
…...
Echo is surprised when a young man detaches himself from the next wave of people to emerge from the bunker door and throws his arms around her shoulders. She wasn't expecting any particular joy for herself from this day, was just hoping that her Skaikru friends would have the happy ending they were longing for. So she's not quite sure what to do with this enthusiastic embrace. She wasn't aware that there was anyone still alive on this Earth who cared about her survival until this very unexpected greeting.
"Ivon?" She asks, disbelief sharp in her tone, as she recognises her old colleague from the Queen's guard.
"Echo." He draws back to take in her face and she finds herself feeling distinctly self-conscious. "I can't believe it. I was so sure you were dead. How did you survive being cast out like that?"
"I got lucky." She admits easily. "I hitched a lift to space to ride out the radiation."
"Space?" He asks with distaste, obviously struggling to digest this news. "So, what, you Skaikru now or something?"
"I'm still Azgeda." She tells him, although she's not altogether sure it's the truth. She just knows she wants to see the warmth in his eyes again. She quite likes having someone to miss her, it turns out. "I just lived in space for a bit."
"No one's Azgeda now." He informs her and it sounds like a warning. "You are Wonkru or you are the enemy of Wonkru."
It isn't until Raven speaks, tone even more abrasive than usual, that she remembers to disengage herself from Ivon's arms.
"Well then. I guess we choose Wonkru."
…...
Octavia has done things she is not pleased to have done, of course. No one could lead through the Dark Year entirely happy, nor watch over the fighting pits with a smile on their face. But it isn't until she sees her impossibly loving brother and his impossibly happy relationship and his impossibly perfect children that it occurs to her that, actually, she has regrets. That this is not the life she would have chosen for herself, if she could have avoided it. That she doesn't like being a monster. But life is what it is, and she is a monster now, so she will have to make the best of it. Will have to forge ahead, and be Bloodreina, and take Wonkru home.
Black-haired little boys with eyes full of smiles are not destined to be a part of her story, she suspects.
That's a shame, she decides, as she watches Gus watching Bellamy in a blatant display of familial love. It is obvious, of course, that her brother is lying to her at least to some extent about the status of these two children. They are evidently nightbloods, to have survived the radiation, and she can't help but feel that the story about at least one of them being artificially so is a load of rubbish. She is forced to conclude that, somehow, her brother has reached a point where he is willing to lie to her to protect this family that he loves. And, actually, she understands only too well why he would think a pair of nightbloods might need protecting from anyone who might feel threatened by them, from someone who might want them out of the way in order to cling on to power.
Someone, perhaps, like her.
…...
Raven knows what her priorities should be. As an engineer, she should be thinking about the logistics of getting these people out of this bunker and setting up the infrastructure to get them settled in the valley. As a friend, she should be supporting Clarke while she takes in the dazed look in her mother's eyes and gaunt shadows of her cheeks. And as a human, she should be hugging Miller and celebrating their safe reunion.
But, of course, she is doing none of those things. She can't stop staring at that man who hugged Echo, went straight up to her and wrapped her in his arms, as if he had a right to do so, as if he never stood by and watched her be cast out five years earlier. As if he cared about her in the slightest.
None of these people care about Echo as much as she does. Of this, she is sure. After all, they are family, now, are they not, after their five years in the sky together?
Any suggestion that she feels hostile towards this stranger for any reason other than her conviction that Echo deserves better is nonsense, of course. She has always known that her housemate would be the subject of attention, now the bunker is open, from people who are neither broken nor skilled at losing those they care about. She just thinks that Echo deserves the very best, that's all.
"I'm Raven." She introduces herself to the man who has been chatting to Echo without pause since that hug and sticks out a hand towards him.
He does not choose to take it. "Ivon." He tells her with a cold nod.
"We live together." She tells him, abandoning subtlety and deciding that she won't object if he wants to read more into that statement than is the truth.
"You do?"
"Yes." Echo confirms with a frown at her. "We're good friends, more like family really. We lived in the sky together during Praimfaiya."
"Pleased to meet you." Ivon says in response to that news, sticking a hand out stiffly and not sounding at all pleased to meet her.
She shakes his hand, and he makes some excuse about needed to check in with his team, and walks away.
"What's wrong with you?" Echo hisses, the moment he is out of earshot.
"I don't know what you mean."
"What were you doing there, trying to scare him off or something? It certainly worked."
"Oh, he'll be back. Did you see the way he was looking at you?"
"I don't know what you mean." There seems to be a lot of that going round, Raven thinks. In fact, she muses, this tension between them has always involved quite a lot of I don't know what you mean.
"Well, it seems I was right. As usual." She snipes, thinking back to an impossible conversation they had about a year ago, both rather the worse for wear for moonshine, and have carefully avoided mentioning ever since.
"About what?" Echo asks reluctantly, clearly sensing that they are heading into uncomfortable territory.
"That you only noticed me out of convenience. That now there's more than six people in your world you won't be needing me any more."
She doesn't give Echo a chance to confirm her rejection. She simply limps rapidly away in the direction of Abby, taking her tears with her.
…...
Bellamy finds that the day is half gone before he has blinked. There are so many people to speak to, and there is so much worrying about the children and Clarke to be done, that time is hastening on quicker than he realises. He has greeted what feels like hundreds of people but is no closer to finding out why Abby's smile looks so unnatural, nor why Octavia does not smile at all.
He decides that Kane is his most likely source of answers, and leaves Clarke with the children while he takes the older man aside.
"How have you been?" He asks, for want of a better way of starting the conversation.
Kane is silent for quite some time, and Bellamy wonders if he will refuse to answer.
"I think I have been luckier than most." He says at last. "But that's not saying much."
"What happened down there?"
"Most of it is not my story to tell. I know that you're worried about your sister, and about Abby on Clarke's account. And I suppose you're worrying about your children now too."
He nods in acknowledgement, frustrating though it is that Kane's words are not really an answer.
"Fatherhood suits you."
"I think happiness suits me."
"Yes, we've had precious little of that." He sucks in his breath and spreads his hands in a defeated gesture. "I can't tell you. It's not my place to tell you. All I can say is that I think things will be better, now we're on the ground. I hope things will be better. And I for one won't let anything happen to your children."
"Might something happen to the children? Do you think anyone would want to hurt them?" He asks the question that has been preying on his mind so much in recent days, and even more so since he saw the looks in his sister's eyes this morning.
"I don't know." Kane spreads his hands in that unhelpful shrug again. For a wise man, he seems to be determined to remain ignorant, these days, Bellamy thinks. "Octavia has become used to being... unchallenged."
He calls a halt to that conversation before it grows any more disturbing, and fixes a brittle smile on his face for the remainder of the afternoon. Evening draws near, and it is decided that they will eat together around campfires on the ground, before Wonkru return to the bunker to sleep and those who camped last night to their tents. Tomorrow, they are to start planning for the move out of here.
"Will you join me at my fire? Clarke? Bellamy?" Octavia asks, and he finds himself rather flummoxed by the idea of needing to be invited or summoned to share a meal with his own sister.
"Of course." Clarke answers for them while he collects his thoughts.
"Bring the children." Octavia instructs them in a tone he can't quite read. "Gus is such a lovely child. I'd like to get to know him better."
…...
Echo is furious with Raven. She doesn't understand what gives this woman the right to trample on her heart again and again and again. It doesn't seem at all fair, really, that Raven gets to keep pushing her away and insisting that she doesn't really care, insinuating that she's interested in whatever Ivon has to offer. All she's ever done is try to show Raven that she cares. It drives her mad when she runs away like that, presuming her rejection before she's even had chance to respond. And, sure, she did only notice her because they spent five years trapped in space together. But that doesn't make the noticing any less real. She thanks the heavens every day for the lucky coincidence that gave her such a long opportunity to become part of Raven's life.
Well, she thanks them most days. Today, she's a bit stuck on furious.
One thing she definitely feels every day, though, is regret for that stupid conversation they had last year, where she had too much moonshine and thought it was a good idea to tell Raven how she felt about her, and Raven had too much moonshine and thought it was a good idea to make out with her a little and then panic and run and pretend the following morning that nothing happened. She wishes with everything that is in her that she could have left well enough alone, and continued in an easy friendship rather than all these stupid arguments. But without the stupid arguments, she supposes, there would probably also be rather less of the make-up-hugging and the sitting too close and the casual touching of hands in the kitchen. And she lives for those things, for all that she's supposed to be so strong.
She's angry with Raven for making today about her. Or about them, or the lack of them. This is supposed to be a day for celebrating reunions, for worrying about Abby's shivers and Octavia's stillness. It is not supposed to be a day for arguing over non-issues.
She knows that seeking Ivon out that evening is the wrong thing to do. And she knows that laughing at his jokes as they sit around the campfire is the wrong thing to do, and that kissing him back when he presses his lips to hers is certainly far from right. And she definitely knows, better than she knows her own name, that following him back to his bunk, and sleeping with him, and failing to forget Raven all the while is absolutely and totally the wrong thing to do.
But she does it all the same.
a/n Thanks for reading!