I was worried.

It wasn't a new sensation for me. Earth didn't magically solve my problems. It just gave me a set of new ones. I dealt with fuckery every day here. You couldn't put a hundred teenagers in the middle of nowhere and not expect some.

I eyed O and Monty as they argued over whatever. Jasper stood off to the side, watching the whole thing go down like one of those tennis matches I saw on a vid once. Something to do with the types of flowers in the flower water. "I need the two of you to shut up for a minute," I growled.

Silence. Thank god.

My sister needed a job. Something more than just the odds and ends of coordinating classes and teaching medical techniques.

She was bored. I needed something that would keep her focused.

Lucky for me, I just had a huge, convoluted issue to throw at her. "Clarke's pregnant," I announced to the three of them.

Jasper, Octavia, and Monty froze. Guess the Wonder Twins didn't expect me to just say it like that.

O's eyes went large and round. "Are you shitting me? What they're saying is true?"

I arched a brow. The rumors were making some serious rounds. "Would I joke about something like that?"

"That's—I just—I gotta sit down for a second." She tried to sink into a repurposed chair, but that lasted about two seconds before she jumped up again. "How in the hell?"

"The normal way, O." Totally true. "Her IUD ran out." Also true. "Which means we need to get prepared, fast. Starting with birth control methods. I want texts, plants, viable options, contingencies, back ups of back ups, and I want you," I said pointedly, "to stop messing around until you're protected."

She ignored that. "We just got here, Bellamy. How could she possibly be pregnant that fast?"

Count on my sister to focus on details I'd prefer to smooth over. "We don't know for sure yet. I'm betting on yes."

"Damn," she whistled. "Damn. You're going to be a dad, Bell." She stood straighter. "I'm going to be an aunt!" She slapped her hands on her chest like someone literally belted her with the realization.

My lips twitched. "Yep."

"Holy shit. I'm going to be an aunt." She looked at me, her big eyes starting to sparkle with excitement. You'd think I'd given her five Christmas' worth of presents all at once. "How do you feel? How does Clarke feel? Jesus, is she scared? I'll bet she's-"

"O." I grasped her shoulders. "Calm down. We're both fine. We're...well, it's big, but that's why we're going to tackle this like a team. You, me, Clarke, and these two."

Goggles and Agro Star simultaneously pointed at themselves in question.

"Yeah, you. This isn't just a baby. It's the biggest challenge that's faced us yet." I dropped my hands to my sides. "Repopulating the earth is part of our job description. If we can't successfully bring kids into the world, then we might as well let the Grounders off us. So far we've been doing a decent job of surviving. Now I want us to focus on thriving."

They glanced at each other, then Jasper squinted at me. "Do you practice these speeches before you give them, or does it just come naturally?"

"Feeling inspired? Good. We need a working list of suggestions. Viable sources of food, a concentrated look at medical needs, and a long term plan that will keep us from turning into another Roanoke."

"Roa-who?" Monty asked.

Octavia gaped. "You've never heard of Roanoke Island?" She shook her head. "What floor did you grow up under?"

I slung my arm around her shoulders. "Easy, O. Not everybody likes the classics." So what if I sounded smug? Here was living proof of my parenting skills. Scared as fuck and nervous I may be, but I'd already done this once. I could do it again. "Roanoke Island was an English colony in old America. The founder left for a few months for supplies. When he sailed back, every single person in his community was missing. No bodies. No explanation."

Jasper's eyes widened. "Grounders, The Beta Edition."

"A baby council," Monty mused. "Alright. I've got one of those charcoal pieces and paper that Clarke gave me. Hang on."

"Basics and then subcategeories," Octavia said. "It'll organize things better."

See? Smart.

"We should bring Miller into this," she went on. "And Clarke."

"Clarke's doing damage control with Baxter and then rounds. We'll include Miller later when we have something to include him in on." We all crowded around the table when Monty came back. I looked at our measly supplies of writing supplies and tried to remember how the Romans used to do it. "Wax."

"What?"

I shook my head. "Never mind." I'd have to tuck that idea back for later. We had other important things to worry about.

Monty wrote: Food. Shelter. Clothes. Then he drew column headings.

"Peter's getting the waginogans together. Everybody should have a place to sleep within the next day or two," I said, slipping my arm from Octavia's shoulders and rubbing my hand over my jaw in thought.

"That leaves us with parachutes and other tent materials work with."

"Shouldn't we cover the waginogans with them?" Jasper wondered. "Seems like it would help fight against the cold. Not that I know how cold snow gets. Or if we'll have snow."

Monty already had a charcoal mark on his neck. "Not clothes?"

"Shoes," Octavia suddenly said. We all looked at her. "We should cover the waginogans, but we should also hold back a bit. If we sew it just the right way, we can either cover our shoes in the winter to make them waterproof, or as socks or something. Our clothes aren't going to last forever."

On the Ark material was constantly repurposed, passed on, and patched. We had a few engineers that produced new synthetic material, but it was pricey and usually reserved for anything but clothes.

"Look, I'm concerned with the food situation," Monty remarked. "We need to do some serious gathering, and when that's done, we have to find a way to store it so that it lasts through the winter."

"We could try dehydration," Jasper said immediately. "Moisture would reanimate taste. All we'd have to do is boil or steam whatever it was. We've got the jerky thing down. If a couple dozen boars, deer, squirrels, and any other critter decide to run their way through camp, we'll be sitting pretty."

"If we had all those animals, we'd have pelts. If we had pelts, we could make those into clothes. A way to keep warm," Octavia pointed out.

"And food," Monty put in again. "Don't forget that."

"Humans used to use sinew for thread, remember, Bellamy?"

"Where are we going to get the animals?" Jasper wondered. "Where are we going to keep everything?"

"This is where ebooks come in handy. One of us needs to get on the horn with the Ark and try to get patched into their digital library. The more references we have the better," I said, hands on hips.

"Why don't you do it?"

Yeah right. Me talk to the Ark? Never again in my lifetime.

Octavia must have seen the resistance on my face, because her eyes narrowed. "You're the one that spent all that time downloading books on pads. Why should we go looking for someone else to do it when you know the archives like the back of your hand?"

"It's not like we have pads to haul around anymore, O. We rely on that one stationery computer. Whoever would do the research has to sit right there. I've got to be out and about, not in front of a monitor." I shook my head. "It's gotta be someone else."

"Or we could just ask Peter."

All eyes turned to Jasper.

His brows almost disappeared into the goggles on the top of his head. "What? He told us about the waginogans, right? Based on his tribal history? Well, they lived without modern technology too. How did they do it? Waginogans can't be the only thing Peter learned on the Arc."

Respect for the zipper. "That's good thinking, Goggles. Go get him." I turned my head just in time to catch the proud grin Octavia was beaming at him. It shriveled when she realized I was looking.

What the hell was that about?

I shook my head and rubbed my temple. Whatever. I didn't want to know. Not right now.

Jasper scampered out of the drop ship. If he was right and Peter had some idea of what to do, then Peter will have saved our asses twice.

I knew it was a long shot. The chances of a teenager remembering that much about ethnic traditions while trapped on a metal container in space...slim to none.

But he knew about the waginogans. He even practiced. What else did he know?

Well, whatever information he had buried in that head of his, I was going to dig it out. Even the smallest nugget could mean a significant difference in our quality of life.

For us. For the baby.

The baby. Pelts could keep her warm. She'd be born in the late spring or something like that. I didn't remember much from most of my Earth Skills classes, but I did remember my history. Napoleon was defeated by the Russian winter. The Vikings were blocked in by ice. Exposure, dysentery, and inadequate supplies killed more soldiers than swords, knives, or bullets during war. Keeping her warm and keeping her fed would be half the battle.

"Fish."

I jolted from my reverie. "What?"

"Fish," Monty repeated slowly. "They're a source of protein and omega three. We'd get vitamin D too. It doesn't necessarily have to be deer or boar that sustains us. The lucky thing is fishing can be done in winter. We could dry, boil, or bake whatever we wanted."

I had a regular Think Tank on my hands here. "Good. Any idea how to fish?"

He flashed a rueful grin. "No. But if we can figure out how to make a net, we could fake it enough that we won't starve."

"What about that giant thing in the lake?" Octavia cut in, intrigue coloring her voice.

Good point. "We'll stick to the river."

She scowled. "Or we could make some spears and go for it." She planted her hands on her hips. "I owe that bitch payback."

Out of nowhere the image of Octavia standing on a rock and shaking a spear at a deadly water monster filled my brain. "No," I practically snapped. "Don't even think about it."

"But-"

I held up a finger. "No."

Jasper yelled up through the hatch. "Back!" The first thing I saw was goggles, then a head of dark hair. He hauled himself out of the way and waited for Peter, who followed close behind. He didn't look nearly as excited as Jasper.

"Peter," I greeted.

He stood up straight, expression guarded. "Bellamy."

"Jasper tell you what we needed?"

He nodded.

I spread my legs. "Can you help us?"

"Animal drive."

I waited a beat. "From now on, Peter, I want you to pretend that I don't know what you mean unless you give me context." It was the waginogan thing all over again.

"Every so often all the hunters of a tribe would organize an event where they were drive a herd of deer or boar into an enclosed area, like a crevice or cave. This meant tribes could gather a greater amount of meat in a shorter period of time, making it possible to survive the winter. They stored the meat underground in storage bunkers designed to keep everything at a regulated temperature."

He kept his hands at his sides like he was being interrogated. Even though his face was impassive, every once in a while his eyes would dart to someone. Kid did the same thing with the other group. Guess he wasn't good with being put on the spot, but to give him credit, he didn't falter once in his explanation.

When he was finished, there was silence. He had that effect on people.

I angled my head at Monty, who was staring at Peter with his mouth slightly open. Didn't blame him. That matter-of-fact tone took some getting used to. "Did you get all that?"

"Huh?" He blinked at me. "Uh, yeah. Sure did. Spears. Herds. Hunters. Underground storage."

"Feeling better about the food situation?"

"Better's relative around here," he said, "but it's a start. Better yet, it's doable." He turned back to Peter. "Any chance you know how to fish?"

Peter frowned. "Don't you?"

I pulled on my earlobe. "Listen," I said as I came closer, "maybe it's not been made clear to you, but we're in a hell of a situation here. That head," I pointed, "has got ideas that we need. Anything—and I mean anything—can mean the difference between life and death to someone."

Genuine confusion marred his brow. "You seriously don't know?"

Well, I guess I knew what 'flabbergasted' looked like now. "Nope. It's up to you to teach us. No hanging back. No assuming. If you know something, you say it. I don't want to have to keep guessing with you." I looked him in the eye, man to man. "Alright?"

He thought it over, his hands flexing a little. Then he nodded. "Alright."

"I want you to keep talking. Monty's going to write down what you have to say. Bounce ideas off of these three. I'm going to go check on some things. When I come back, we'll talk about it more."

It was a start. A very, very good start, and when I stepped back and nodded goodbye to Octavia, I felt hopeful for the first time in a while.

I climbed down the ladder and went in search of Clarke. I wanted to see how things went with Baxter and Miller. More than that, she needed to be there when the Think Tank presented its ideas.

Even more than that, I just wanted to see her.

It didn't bother me that we now had a version of the Arc's council. I wasn't Jaha, and nobody was more privileged. They didn't make the decisions. In the end all they were doing was dreaming up ways we could make it through the winter. It was life and death, but not the way the council I'd known and resented all my life had operated. Like Clarke said, every life down here mattered. I was going to do my damnedest to make sure as many of us got through this as possible.

No culling. No illegal second children. No living in a small box and dreaming of a big life. Here we had a future. It was uncertain, but it was real. We just had to figure out how to grab hold of it.

I only made it a few feet out of the drop ship when I heard Clarke's voice. It was low and urgent, and it sounded like—fuck, was she crying?

I spun on my heel, ready to make some dirtbag pay as I stomped around the perimeter of the drop ship, but what I saw was not what I was expecting.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Shit. Raven was the one crying. Clarke's eyes met mine over her shoulder. "We're going to do this," she was saying. "You're not alone."

Double shit.

What was I supposed to do? It was like walking in on somebody else having sex. Hell, I'd probably handle that better. I thought about turning and running off. How to do it without making any more noise?

Clarke's pale hand rubbed up and down Raven's back. Something about the gesture stayed me when I would have turned. I watched it drift up and down the material. It was such a motherly thing. I used to do that with Octavia when she had a bad dream.

I met Clarke's eyes again.

"You can always come to me," she told Raven, her voice dark and fierce. "It's sad, and it hurts, and he was too young. You don't have to know what to say or what to do. There's no right way to handle this. But I'm here." She squeezed her arms tight, like she was trying to piece Raven back together or something. "Okay? I'm here."

I'm here.

It was meant for Raven, but that was meant for me too. I could see it in her face, in the way she refused to break eye contact even when I should have been making tracks. She held Raven so tight I was surprised she could still breathe, but Reyes was so busy crying she didn't seem to notice. I zeroed in on the sound despite myself.

I knew that grief. I felt it the day O was taken and Mom was floated. Suddenly I was back in that tiny hole of a bunker I'd been demoted to. I couldn't even fit my legs in there. It was so small my feet hung off the end. I stared up at the ceiling, too numb to feel at first.

Then I heard the silence. I spent fifteen years cooped up in a cabin never meant to hold three people, with a couple of women that made more noise than I'd realized. Fifteen years of listening to two other people breathe, or turning over, or sighing, or shifting in their sleep.

Suddenly all I could hear was the hum of machinery, something I hadn't noticed in so long it scared me.

I didn't have many friends because I had Octavia and Mom, but it was okay. I did have them. I could rely on them. They could rely on me. We were like anchors.

Not anymore.

That's when I felt it—being alone. Totally, utterly alone, and not knowing how to live like that.

I'm here.

She would be, I realized. I'd known it somewhere deep down in me, away from real conscious thought, but suddenly it was right in front of me. Clarke was the kind of girl that wouldn't let anyone be alone when it mattered. But me, personally? She'd march into hell and drag me out by the hair if she had to. She already had, in a way, smuggling me into a tiny hole in the ground when I was unconscious.

Her lips pursed, just the smallest bit.

I felt that familiar warmth spread through my guts, filling me with a kind of peace and promise I hadn't realized I was missing. It happened whenever I went near her.

Yeah, Clarke Griffin loved me. She loved me the way I loved her, like two animals that could be good alone but unstoppable together. I had no idea how much of that she realized, but it was there, right in her eyes.

I took a step back, treading carefully. I didn't want to intrude, but I didn't want to walk away from Clarke just yet either. I lingered on her face, the only one that made me happy just by looking at it.

Raven was in the middle of a raw, open moment that I needed to respect, so I silently nodded at Clarke.

My girl. My future, if I thought about it.

She didn't nod or smile back.

She didn't have to.

I turned on my heel and left quietly.