a/n Thank you to everyone who took the time to review that last chapter. I hear that some of you are upset with Bellamy's decision - this is, to borrow the words of our favourite psychopath, another episode of no good choices, but I promise things will turn out OK in the end. Happy reading!

Raven is surprised enough when Clarke appears at the workshop at the crack of dawn, and loiters for ten minutes for no apparent reason before vanishing back into the morning light.

She is even more surprised when Clarke reappears two hours later, the same restless expression on her face, with the same complete lack of explanation for her presence.

"Really, though, Clarke. Why are you here?"

"I told you, I wanted to see how you're getting on with -"

"No. Not buying it. Try again."

"I guess I'm just worried about this... instability. Do you think it will die down?"

Raven knows that she is looking at her friend as if she has lost her mind. This is, in fact, because she rather thinks she must have done. She can see no other reason for a woman as astute as Clarke Griffin to be asking such an imbecilic question.

"It's obviously not going to just die down, Clarke. You were there at that meeting Echo called yesterday? And you did see that fight break out? In which someone got killed?"

"People die a lot on the ground." Clarke mutters, with a coldness that Raven cannot quite make sense of.

"Yeah, in wars. Which start out as stupid power struggles like this one." She points out, wondering what on Earth can possibly be afoot, here.

"You think it's that serious?"

"You're the one who told me yesterday afternoon that you think this could decimate the remains of the human race if it gets much further out of hand. We were lucky there was only one death, when you look at the number of serious injuries. And the problem's not going anywhere."

"I don't know about that." Clarke seems suddenly furious, and Raven cannot for the life of her see why. "Octavia has a plan."

"She does?" She cannot see why Clarke thinks this is such bad news.

"Of course she does. She's always got a plan to save her own skin, that -"

Clarke breaks off abruptly, with a panicked expression, as she takes in something through the window. Raven swivels in her chair, wondering quite what could have provoked this reaction, but sees only Bellamy approaching the workshop with an anxious look on his face.

By the time she turns back around, Clarke has vanished, and the only trace of her presence is the sound of the back door slamming behind her.

"Bellamy?" Raven gets to her feet, goes to welcome her old friend into the room. "What's going on?"

"Have you seen Clarke?" He asks, visibly panicking. "Please tell me you've seen her."

"She was just here." Raven puts a steadying hand on his elbow, gestures to the seat Clarke has so recently vacated. He does not choose to take it. "You need to tell me what all this is about, Bellamy. She ran away out the other door when she saw you coming. That – that seems like an unusual reaction to your partner's arrival."

"Did she tell you what happened?" He asks, sinking at last into that seat with a resigned sigh.

"No. She wouldn't tell me a thing."

"We had an argument." He explains, and she tries very hard not to laugh. No shit, Sherlock. An argument.

"I see."

"I don't know whether to go after her." He groans mournfully. "She told me last night not to go after her, but now it's this morning and she's obviously still avoiding me and I don't know what to do."

She finds that temptation to laugh vanishing abruptly. "This has been going on since last night?"

"Yeah."

"I think you had better start at the beginning."

She does not do a good job of keeping the shock from showing on her face as Bellamy explains. This much she knows. To be fair, the story is a shocking one on a number of levels. It is shocking that Octavia would insist upon this, sure. And it is shocking that Bellamy should agree to it with apparent ease. But it is at least as shocking, Raven thinks, that Clarke Griffin, champion of impossible choices, should find herself so blinded by emotion as not to realise that, actually, this is the best solution to the problem with which they are struggling.

But the most shocking thing of all, she decides easily, is the wedge this has driven between Clarke and Bellamy. She doesn't like watching Bellamy sit in the middle of the workshop and weep, really. It's not exactly a comfortable experience.

When the tale is told, she leans against the door frame and tries to adopt a calm expression.

"It sounds like you know the answer, Bellamy. Everyone thinks this is the only good solution except Clarke. So you're just going to have to do it. And accept that she's going to be angry with you."

"I'm not sure I can accept that."

"You don't have much choice."

He laughs at that, a hollow sound. "Story of my life."

She smiles as best as she can. "I'd like to say she'll come around but – but I think it might take her a while."

"Yeah."

"I'd stop chasing after her, Bellamy. You know Clarke. She likes to run away when she's upset. You remember after Mount Weather."

"Of course I do." He snaps, looking about ready to hit something. "Of course I know Clarke. But – but she doesn't like to run away so much these days. Or, at least – I thought she liked it when I follow her. When I go with her to figure it out. It's a long time since she last got so upset that she left me behind."

Raven feels herself tear up at that, too, at that painful mixture of proof that she does not know her old friend so well, now, after five years apart, and at the emotion on Bellamy's face as he grapples with this impossible situation. She takes a deep breath, tries to reign in her own feelings. She will do neither of them – nor the human race – any good, if she falls apart now.

"I'd go home, Bellamy." She recommends gently. "Go back to your children. It'll do you good to spend some time with them. Clarke will be back when she's ready, you know that. And – and if I see her again, I'll check she's doing OK for you."

"Thanks." He mutters, rubbing almost angrily at his eyes. "Let me – let me know how she's doing. And – and if you get the chance, could you tell her I'm sorry for hurting her?"

"Of course."

He nods once, briskly, and stands, and marches out the door. And Raven abandons her task without regret, and follows not far behind, off in search of Echo.

All of this drama has made her rather in need of Echo's particular kind of hug, she thinks.

…...

Madi is growing fed up of sitting at home with her father and brother, amidst tension so thick she thinks that they might yet all drown in it, if Clarke never comes home. At least that would save them all from the next shouting match, she finds herself concluding with no small amount of annoyance. She cannot for the life of her work out why these two people she loves so much are being so frankly dense about this situation. All it would have taken, she suspects, for this to work out so much more smoothly, is for Octavia and Bellamy to involve Clarke in the plan from the beginning, and for Clarke to take a few deep breaths before losing her temper.

And yet, of course, that is not what happened, so here she sits, reading some incongruously cheerful fairy tale to her little brother and waiting for Bellamy to stop pacing.

"I'm going for a walk." She announces, when she can bear it no longer.

"No, Madi. It – it might not be safe out there, with the rebels."

She snorts at her father's misplaced concern. "Isn't the whole point of this flame plan that I'm the one person they wouldn't hurt?"

"Please." He sounds utterly desperate. "Your mother will never forgive me if something happens to you now."

She doesn't point out that, based on the way Clarke has avoided Bellamy all morning, she doesn't think his odds are that great even if nothing happens to her. She doesn't point out, either, that she'll be perfectly safe, nor that she will be back within the hour.

She doesn't point out anything. She just stands up and leaves. She highly doubts her distraught father has the energy to bother chasing after her, just now.

She sets out on a harmless stroll around the perimeter of the village, on the edge of the tree line, letting the familiar noises of the forest soothe her. It has not been a pleasant sixteen hours or so, and she is rather in need of a little calmness. In fact, she thinks, surely it wouldn't hurt if she wandered just a little further into the woods? She knows the area well, and she'd be in no danger, and she really would -

A hand closes over her mouth, and she finds herself being dragged unceremoniously into a holly thicket, the thorns catching at her sleeves as she goes.

"Listen, Madi." She jumps in shock, then, not at being captured, but at the fact that it is her own mother doing the capturing. "We have to get you out of here. I've got you a pack, and we'll go -"

She makes light work of flipping Clarke over her shoulder and throwing her to the floor. And, well, it's good practice, as a future commander, to keep a knife in her belt, so it is the work of a moment to kneel on her mother's shoulders and hold the blade at her throat. All in all, it seems that training with the Wonkru novitiates has served her well.

"Madi." Clarke is still, somehow, talking at her. "You don't understand. You're in danger, and we need to get going. Let me up and let's get out of here while we -"

"Clarke." She cuts her off abruptly. "You're my mother, and I love you. But you need to stop talking. I'm not going to run away with you."

"Please, Madi." This normally awe-inspiring woman is panting with panic, and it's not a pleasant sight. "I'm scared for you. You've seen what they're like, these people, they'll kill anyone they don't like, and the flame – people die when that thing gets involved."

"Mum, please. I don't want to argue with you about this. There's – there's been enough arguing, recently, already."

Clarke looks away at that, slides her gaze over her left shoulder.

"I'm going to let you up now but – but no more talk about running away. Please. Please can we just talk about it?"

She pulls the knife back just far enough for Clarke to give a cold nod, then shifts her weight and stands. She has never faced down her own mother like this, brandishing a knife and narrowing her eyes, and she hates it. She hates it so damn much that she just wants a moment to be a child and cry.

But she can't be a child, right now. Because she needs to show her mother she's ready to be the commander.

"I'm scared for you, Madi." Clarke gives a helpless shrug, tears tracking down her cheeks. "I'm just so scared. And I'm so angry with Bellamy for even suggesting it -"

"He didn't suggest it, Clarke. He agreed to it, because he thought there was no choice. I thought forgiving each other for making impossible decisions was supposed to be what you two do?"

"I thought it was, too." Clarke says sadly. "But this time, I'm not sure. I just – why did he not even speak to me about it, before he decided to do it? Does he not understand how – how furious that would make me?"

"Trust me, he understands that you're furious."

Clarke chooses to ignore that, continues with her agenda instead, and Madi sort of wants to shake some sense into her. "It's ridiculous, the idea of a kid being put in power like that."

"I'm going to do it anyway. It's not as if I will actually hold any power. And – I know I'm only a child, Clarke, but I'm old enough to know I want to do this. And I want you to understand that I'm doing this willingly, OK? That I'm not being pressured by Bellamy or Octavia."

"It doesn't matter. You're a child. Legally speaking, your parents should be making decisions with your best interests at heart on your behalf until you're eighteen. And this is definitely not in your best interests."

"We're not on the Ark any more, Mum. I'm pretty sure the law took a blow the moment they sent a bunch of kids down here to start a war. I'm ready for this and – and I think part of the reason you're so upset is that you know I am." She doesn't deny it, Madi observes. "So I'm going to do this, and you had better leave my father out of it."

She scoffs at that, but Madi thinks it's probably just a vain effort to disguise her tears. "That's a stupid request, Madi. He's your father. How am I supposed to leave him out of it? And why are you so keen to stick up for him anyway?"

"Because he loves you!" She cries, throwing her hands to the sky in despair at her mother's want of understanding. "Because he loves both of us, and would do anything to protect us, and because he's been an absolute wreck since you stormed out last night."

"Good for him." Clarke bites out, and Madi resists the urge to throttle her. She wonders if all adolescent rebellion phases are this challenging.

"Please will you come home?" She asks, aware that she's begging, but really pretty desperate for the pair of them to stop driving each other to the brink of sanity over this. Desperate for those two wonderful parents she has always respected so much to come back to her. "Just for long enough to talk it out with him, at least? He won't stop crying, Mum, and I'm worried about him. And I'm worried about you, too and - and you always did say you're better together."

At last, it seems, with that, there is some softening of her mother's anger, as she sags against a nearby tree and wipes at her face with her sleeve.

"Could you tell him – tell him I won't stop him." Clarke says with a sigh. "If I'm the only person in the world who doesn't think this is the right thing to do then – then I guess it's going to happen, isn't it?"

She doesn't like to see her strong mother so defeated, so broken, but she thinks this is as close as she's going to get to a victory, today.

"I think so."

"I'm going on a walk, Madi. I need to get away from here for a while. If it means so much to you, I'll speak to your father when I get back."

"How long are you going to be gone this time? Three months again?" She knows the question is a cruel one, knows it is rendered only more cruel by the tone of her voice, but she's fed up with this woman she admires so much running away from this one problem. And she has to admit, too, that she's scared that the answer might actually be three months.

"I'll be back this evening." She must still look sceptical, because her mother steps towards her with an earnest expression. "I promise. This evening."

She pulls her into a quick hug and walks into the trees.

a/n Thanks for reading!