Three months after going back to the dropship, Clarke's due date was approaching fast and Bellamy could feel his anxiety building, threatening to choke him. He wasn't quite sure why. Clarke and their baby were healthy, Jackson, who had come when them when they separated from Arkadia, had made sure they had enough medical supplies to make sure Clarke and the baby would be safe when the baby was born, and their alliance with the Grounders was stronger than ever. Lexa had made them the fourteenth clan in her coalition, deeming them Delinakru. Delinquent Clan.

Bellamy had laughed when he heard the name. It was almost funny how he had spent so much time worrying about his child's safety when they were growing up in a camp full of criminals. He smiled at the memory as he stood next to Raven in her shop.

She had called him in to show him a crib she had been working on for the baby. "You know Blake, you sitting there smiling like an idiot isn't going to get this thing put together any faster." She flipped her helmet down and welded another rod onto the gate of the crib, dipping it in a bucket of water to cool it then tossing it on a pile of other parts for Bellamy to assemble in his cabin later.

He was still smiling when she took her helmet off and threw it on the workbench. "What?" she asked. "I was just thinking about how all this time I've been worried about the Grounders and my kid is literally being born in a camp full of criminals."

"Not all of us are criminals Blake." She said with a glare, but there was no unkindness in it. Bellamy put his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh forgive me, I forgot about the perfect Raven Reyes who can do no wrong-"

" I've been replaced. You wound me." He turned to see Clarke leaning in the doorway of the shop, a grin on her face. "Replace you," he said. "Never."

She pushed off the wall with a smirk and rolled her crystalline blue eyes. Out of all her qualities, that was one Bellamy hoped their child inherited. Those eyes that saw all the dangers and threats in the world but also saw the beauty in it. Those eyes that, if you looked closely enough, could tell you everything she was thinking.

She came forward so she was leaning against the worktable and jerked her chin in the direction of the pile of metal behind Raven. "What's that?" The mechanic smiled proudly. "This is little Blake's crib." She sat back on the nearby stool with an expression of conceit. "Figured I could design one better than this moron."

Bellamy rolled his eyes at the jab but Clarke was smiling. "It looks great Ra-" she broke off with a gasp, her hand instantly flying to her swollen stomach and Bellamy froze. It couldn't be time yet. It was too early.

Raven was on her feet too, staring at Clarke with a worried expression. "Clarke? You ok? Do you want me to radio your mom?"

Abby had agreed when they left Arkadia to come and stay in their camp a week before the baby was supposed to come, and Bellamy knew that Raven was trying to help, but he also knew that if this really was happening now, radioing Abby wouldn't do them any good.

"Clarke," Bellamy said, desperation edging his voice. "Talk to us."

Clarke took a deep breath then shook her head. "No, we're good. The baby just kicked me too hard." Bellamy could practically feel the relief rolling off him in waves. "Here," she said, grabbing his hand and placing it beneath hers on her stomach. It was several moments before he felt it, the hard jab against his hand, but the contact made him jump. "Woah there, ease up on your mother, you won't be able to kick your way out of there."

He could see paint on Clarke's hands and when he shifted towards the dark corners of the shop, he could have sworn it was glowing. He held his palm up, now covered in blue fluorescent paint, to show Clarke, eyebrow raised. "Busy morning I take it?"

Clarke grinned. "That's what I came in here for. I want to show you something."

Before he could respond, Clarke pulled him out of the shop and towards their cabin where Lincoln was kneeling on the floor, cleaning up containers of paint. He looked up as they came in and grinned. "I wanted to give the baby something." He met Bellamy's eyes over Clarke's head and Bellamy remembered their conversation by the fire all those months ago.

Everyone in the village gives something to the family.

Lincoln gestured to the paint in his hands then stepped to the side so Bellamy could see the wall behind him. On it was butterflies. Dozens of blue butterflies, starting at the middle of the wall and flying up towards the ceiling, almost identical to the ones in the butterfly fields. Suddenly the paint on Clarke's hands made sense.

"Lincoln made the paint from the bioluminescent moss in the fields." Clarke glanced over at him. "You said I could go crazy on the walls." Bellamy laughed at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, I remember. But why the butterflies?" he asked and Clarke bit her lip. "The fields were the first place I fell in love with Earth. They gave me hope of something better than what we had on the Ark."

All he could do was stare. Even after all this time, she still managed to surprise him. He had completely forgotten that Raven was there until she spoke. "Hope. It's a good baby name."

Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a look. They hadn't really talked about names for their child since they didn't have the equipment to find out the gender, but they needed to. Clarke nodded and Lincoln took the silence that followed as an opportunity to carry the paint out of the room. Raven watched as he left, then cleared her throat. "I'm going to go finish the crib. I'll have Miller help me carry it in." Then she turned and left without another word.

"We do need to talk about names," Clarke said once she was gone. Bellamy nodded and sat down on the edge of their bed. "Show me your list." She pulled a piece of paper off the desk and handed it to him, sitting in silence as he looked it over.

It was divided into two columns, names for a girl on one side and names for a boy on the other. He scrolled through the boy's names quickly as there weren't many;

Wells

Jake/Jacob

Ethan

Jasper

Bellamy's heart twisted at seeing their friends name on the list. Jasper had overdosed almost a year previously, unable to cope with what had happened in Mount Weather and the thought of what their friend had fallen to in the months before his death made Bellamy sick. Clarke hadn't been there to see it and in a way Bellamy was glad. She carried enough guilt for that day in the mountain, for the choice they had to make. She didn't need to know how much that choice had destroyed some of the people they had been trying to save,

The list of girls names was longer;

Charlotte

Abigail

Thalia

Anya

The name at the bottom made him freeze.

Aurora

Clarke caught his expression before he had a chance to recover. "What's wrong?" Bellamy blinked once, twice, then cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Nothing, it's just, I never thought about naming my daughter after my mother."

"It was just an idea…. I didn't know how you would feel about it." If Bellamy was being honest, he wasn't sure how he felt about it either. "I mean, it's not like I hated her. She was my mom. I miss her and I wish she was here to tell me what the hell I'm supposed to be doing," he paused as she chuckled. "But she also let me down in a lot of ways too. She put a massive responsibility on a seven-year-old kid and as much as I love Octavia…." His voice trailed off and he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"I never had a chance to just be her brother and that wasn't fair, to me or to her. Even now that she isn't in danger anymore, I can't stop thinking that if something happens to her it's my fault because-"

"Your sister, your responsibility." Clarke interrupted and Bellamy had to stop himself from laughing because of course, Clarke knew what he was thinking. Clarke always knew.

"Naming our baby after my mother doesn't mean the same thing for me as it does for you Clarke." His voice was barely a whisper. Clarke leaned over and grasped his hand, her fingers warm in his. "I know."

They were quiet for a long time, Bellamy's knuckles white from their grip on the list. "I like Hope." He said and she smiled. "What if the baby's a boy?"

He thought for a moment. He hadn't known Wells Jaha or Jake Griffin well, and Ethan had been a Grounder he hadn't known at all but Jasper. Jasper had been one of the hundred and his death had hit both Clarke and Bellamy hard.

But there was someone it had hit harder.

Monty.

Jasper had been his best friend, really the only family Monty had, and now he was gone. Monty had changed in the past year. He was no longer the optimistic kid who saw only the best in people and in the world. It was as if a part of him had died with Jasper and Bellamy knew that no matter how much time passed, that part of him was never coming back.

No, they couldn't name their child after Jasper. That right was Monty's and Monty's alone.

For a moment, he considered telling Clarke that none of the names felt right for their son, but his gaze kept falling back to the first one she had written.

Wells

It might not have meant much to Bellamy, but it meant everything to Clarke, There was a reason she had written it first. Wells had been her best friend and even though he had been gone for years, Clarke still missed him as if he had died yesterday. So he couldn't bring himself to just brush off the name. Because it was important to Clarke.

"Wells," he said glancing up from the list to look at her. "I like Wells."

She grinned and put her hands on her stomach, gazing down at it lovingly. "Wells. Wells and Hope. It's perfect."

The baby didn't come early. In fact, a week had passed since Clarke's supposed due date and there was still no sign that their son or daughter was going to make an appearance.

Go figure they would choose to come the one time he had left camp on a hunting trip.

A deer had just approached the cave he was crouched in with Murphy and Miller, eyeing the rock warily when the radio Bellamy was carrying beeped loudly, scaring it off. Murphy swore and fired and fired a few shots in the deer's direction but Bellamy didn't know if he hit it. He was focused on Raven's frantic voice as it sounded through the radio.

"Bellamy, you need to come back…. Clarke's…."

Static cut off the rest of her words but Bellamy already knew what she was going to say.

Clarke was in labor. The baby was coming.

Before he could think better of it he had dropped everything and was sprinting through the woods back towards camp, leaving Murphy and Miller behind.

The dropship wasn't far and when he threw the door to his cabin open, his eyes immediately fell on Clarke and despite the obvious pain she was in, she smiled when she saw him. "You're here." She said breathlessly as he reached her side, practically shoving Raven and Octavia out of the way.

"Yeah, I'm here." he chuckled. "C'mon Princess, you really think I'd miss this?"

"Raven said the radio cut out. I wasn't sure if-" she gasped and doubled over, clutching her stomach in pain.

"Clarke?" Bellamy asked, alarmed.

"She's fine," Abby said. "It's just a contraction." Clarke took quick, shallow breaths, squeezing his hand so tight he thought she would break bones. "I'm ok," she said after a minute, relaxing back against the pillows of their bed.

"And there's nothing we can give her?" Bellamy asked and Abby shook her head solemnly. "Nothing that's safe for the baby."

Bellamy sighed. He hated that Clarke was in so much pain, but he wasn't willing to risk something happening to their baby.

It was strange to him how much he loved someone he had never met, how much he was willing to give up to make sure they were safe. He remembered when Abby had first arrived at Delinakru's camp two weeks before and had found him harassing Jackson about supplies and being ready for Clarke to go into labor at any time.

She had practically yanked him out of the infirmary and one look in his eyes had told her everything. "Bellamy, you need to relax. It's not whether or not Jackson is prepared that you're worried about." He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "What's it like?" He asked, not needing to elaborate for her to understand.

"It's scary," she had said. "As a parent, your greatest fear is that something will happen and it never really goes away, even when they're grown up and don't need you anymore."

She must have realized that what she was saying wasn't helping ease his anxiety because her tone softened. "You're always scared for them and you're always questioning yourself, but none of that compares to the love you feel." Her face adopted a nostalgic look as she followed Bellamy's gaze to where Clarke stood in the infirmary's doorway.

"It's like nothing you've ever felt before, not even for Octavia or my daughter. It's all-consuming and everything you thought mattered before doesn't anymore." She paused, watching him for a moment. "I knew your mother before she was floated," Bellamy stiffened. "She raised you well and I know you'll be a good father. She would have been proud of you."

His train of thought was interrupted when Clarke groaned, crushing his hand in a death grip. "I'm ready to push," she said.

Her mom nodded and kneeled in front of her. A moment later, she nodded again. "Alright, when you feel the next contraction, go ahead and push." Clarke nodded and took a deep breath.

It surprised Bellamy how disheveled she looked. He was used to seeing her calm and collected, ready for anything whenever it happened but now she looked absolutely terrified.

He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead, brushing strands of blonde hair out of her eyes. "You got this Princess. Just don't let go of me."

Clarke barely managed a smile before the next contraction hit.

She pushed as hard as she could before falling back against the pillows, breathing hard. "You're doing great Clarke," Abby said. "Another push, you can do it." Clarke gitted her teeth, a yell escaping her throat. "One more push Clarke, I can see the head."

She was crying and her chest was rising and falling so fast Bellamy was afraid she would pass out.

A moment later, another cry filled the room, so small and helpless that Bellamy almost couldn't believe it was real.

Then he saw him. Their son.

He was the most beautiful thing Bellamy had ever seen. He had Bellamy's dark hair, in fact, almost everything about him was Bellamy's but when the baby opened his eyes Bellamy saw they were unmistakably blue. The same blue as Clarke's.

He crouched next to the bed as Abby handed the baby to Clarke, wiping tears from his eyes. "It's Wells," he told her with a laugh.

Clarke bent and kissed the top of the babies head. "Hi, Wells."

Octavia and Raven stood at the foot of the bed where Abby had been a moment before, grinning at the new family. You guys he's beautiful." Raven said, putting her arms around a teary Octavia. "Welcome to the world, Little Blake."

The rest of the camp came and went through the cabin throughout the rest of the day, wishing Bellamy and Clarke joyful congratulations. When Bellamy had stepped out of the cabin with his son in his arms, he had been immediately surrounded by friends. Monty, Miller, Murphy, Octavia, Lincoln, Raven, and Harper all stood around him, patting him on the back, cheering and eager to celebrate Delinakru's first newborn.

After Monty and Harper disappeared to their cabin, Bellamy had the sneaking suspicion Wells wouldn't be the last.

Lincoln had been the one to pass him a drink, meeting his eyes with a smile and reciting the words he had told Bellamy when they had sat by the fire all those months ago.

"Omon gon oson."

Bellamy lifted his cup in a toast. "Omon gon oson."

The words weren't only for Wells. They were for everyone that stood around him, the people that lay in the graves outside the camps, the ones who lived in Arkadia, and the ones they had lost in the sky. They were words for the friends they still had and the ones they had left behind, the people he had bled, fought, and cried for. They were for the mother who should have been there to see the people her children had become, the father who would never know that his grandson's middle name was in his honor. They were for the woman who slept in the cabin a few yards away, the woman who had given him everything, who had shown him that life was worth living. They were for his family, his people.

And maybe it wouldn't stay like this. Maybe in five years or five months or even tomorrow, everything would fall apart and there would be another war to fight and more people to save. But for now, they were happy. So he whispered the words once more, praying that nothing changed.

"Omon gon oson."