It took Clarke two friggin' weeks to tell her mother about the baby. In the end she did it because I threatened to do it myself. Her body was going through changes. Forewarned was forearmed. Clarke knew that, but she still put it off as long as possible. I meant to push her sooner, but I got distracted by the fuckery happening right under my nose.
A couple of dickwads had decided that they didn't have to pull as much weight as other people did. Didn't mean they changed their mind about how much food they deserved, though. Funny how that worked.
In the first few days beating the shit out of them would have solved the problem. Things were changing, which meant I had to get smarter.
A few minutes after dark, a couple of words of warning, Miller and Monroe in the background for ambiance—boom, problem solved.
For the moment.
The better our foothold on Earth, the more restless the camp seemed to get. We were getting too big for the original wall. O's project extended our territory for the moment, but soon enough the hundred wasn't going to be satisfied with staying in the same tight confines. We'd had enough of that on the Ark.
If this went on much longer, the group was going to split. With winter coming on, we couldn't afford to lose anybody.
More than that, I could feel the hungry looks on the back of my neck. Bunch of wolves looking to take down the alpha for a taste of power. I couldn't beat them all. I had to give them something else to chew on.
The animal drive.
Clarke ended up telling her mom without me. I didn't know until she came out of the computer waginogan pale and quiet.
Which left the next part up to me.
I sat down on the stool and rubbed my hands on my thighs. Last time I was here, Clarke convinced Jaha to pardon me. That felt like a thousand years ago. I swore I'd never get in contact with the Ark again, but sometimes a guy had to set aside his own grievances to do the right thing.
I put on the headset and steadied myself before making the call. "Dr. Abby Griffin, please."
"One moment while I patch you through."
The screen did that wavy thing it did when the signal was sent from one screen to another. I waited, heart in my throat, trying to settle my nerves for what seemed like an eternity.
The waves settled, and suddenly I was looking at Clarke's mom.
They looked alike. I never thought about that. Octavia looked like Mom. I shouldn't have been so surprised. Clarke and her mom shared the same serious, steady gaze that seemed to take in more than I was willing to share. By the time she opened her mouth, I had the feeling she had my number. "Yes?"
Hell. What did I say? "Dr. Griffin, my name is Bellamy Blake."
"I know. I looked you up in the system."
"You did?" Of course she did. Get your shit together, Blake. "I...just wanted to introduce myself."
"Considering you got my eighteen year old daughter pregnant, Mr. Blake, I think that was the polite thing to do."
She wasn't going to give me an inch. Okay, then. "I was dealing with things in camp when Clarke decided to tell you about it, otherwise I would have been here. I didn't want you to think that I'm not 100% in this with her."
She didn't look impressed. "That's very noble of you."
"Noble has nothing to do with it. I love Clarke. I love this kid. I'm going to do everything it takes to make sure the three of us make it down here."
"Mr. Blake, do you know the consequences of a pregnancy? Especially in the situation that you're in?"
"Believe it or not, yes. Intimately." And I wasn't going to pretend otherwise.
"Then you might appreciate how difficult it is for me to sit here and listen to my daughter tell me that she is risking her life for something that was completely preventable." Her composure cracking, Abby Griffin ran a shaking hand over her mouth, looking less like a doctor and more like a mother than I would have expected.
What the hell was I thinking? Of course she was upset. Clarke was her kid too. "Look, Dr. Griffin, we've been risking our lives since Landing Day. We should have blown up on entry. We didn't. We should have died a least a thousand times since then. Some of us did, but Clarke didn't. I told her she had all the cards with this pregnancy. She's choosing to keep it. My job is now to make sure that she and the baby make it through this."
She looked away from me, clearly fighting tears.
Shit. "I need your help. We both do. Hell, all three of us. Clarke's pretty much running the flag ship for how we do things in the future. We've gotta be on the same page here, because when the Ark lands we're going to be family."
That was really all I wanted to say. She could do with that what she wanted.
Wasn't much to do but wait and see how she responded.
She didn't at first. Guess it was harder for her to put her emotions aside than usual, considering who we were talking about. "Did you have much to do with your sister's raising?"
"Hands on," I said.
"Good. You already understand what it's like to worry about your child."
"I'm having nightmares already." No use hiding the fact.
She cracked a smile. "I'm sure you are. That's normal."
Panthers attacking a wall and a baby crawling into a snake infested lake? I doubted that. "Are we good, Dr. Griffin?"
She nodded slowly. "For now. There's a lot to plan for."
"Yeah. But not today. I'm going to wait a day or two for her to get her feet back under her. Then we'll plan."
"Fair enough. Take care of my daughter, Mr. Blake, or I'll come find you when the Ark lands."
Now I knew exactly where Princess got her attitude from. "Understood."
I clicked on the button and ended the call. Then I sat there and absorbed the fact that Clarke's mom was a little scary.
Not as scary as Clarke was probably going to be, I thought suddenly with a chuckle. The first time someone messed with our kid, I probably wouldn't have time to react before Clarke whipped out the knife and started slicing body parts off.
My Princess was a badass.
I took off the headset and tossed it on the table.
"Bell?" Octavia poked her head through the door. "Are you coming? We're ready."
"Coming."
Her gaze darted between me and the computer. "Everything okay?"
Let's hope. "I just talked to Clarke's mom."
"Oh shit. Is she a total battle ax? Did she yell at you? Threaten to cut off your-"
"Consequences were implied," I interjected. "You don't have to enjoy that so much."
She flashed a cheeky grin. "You're my big brother. This is what I do. Seriously though, are you okay?"
"I think we're on the same page. For now. Don't know how much more I can hope for."
O nodded, her humor dimming for just a second. "You think Mom would have been happy?"
"What?" Where the hell did that come from?
"You know, with being a grandma and all."
I studied her quietly. "Honestly? Mom never thought that far ahead, O."
It was a hard truth.
I loved my mother. I love Octavia. When you're a kid you don't question your parent's choices. Then you grow up and realize a few things.
Mom lived in the moment. She didn't think her decisions through; if she had, she would have asked herself if it was fair to make Octavia live under the floorboards indefinitely, to make us literally the only people she'd ever talk to. Not one single part of our lives stayed the same after Octavia came. I didn't have real friends because it risked our secret. Mom had to resort to sleeping with men she couldn't stand just to keep ahead of the game.
If I hadn't made that stupid mistake of taking O to the party—one lousy party—how long would she have stayed hidden? Until she was old? Never seeing other people, never making friends. Always with us. Always isolated.
How was that fair to a kid?
I shifted and put my hand on her shoulder. "No use in what-ifs. Let's just try to get through the day without someone falling down and busting their head open."
Her lips twisted. "I didn't know you were an optimist."
"Get out there, smartass."
Everyone was set up in different groups, each with their own jobs: the drivers would scare the animals in the right direction, funnelers would keep them on the right path, and the spear carriers would do the slaughtering. Hunting parties had already scouted out deer herds and boars. We were going to do this quick and all at once.
Clarke's blonde head was easy to pick out of the crowd. She was standing next to Monroe and Raven, her bag of supplies crossed over her shoulder.
I wasn't happy about her going, but the truth was that being pregnant didn't make a difference in how much we needed her. Someone was going to get hurt. She had to be there to get them through it.
Our eyes met as I climbed up on one of the fallen logs. "Listen up. You all know what you've been assigned. I want you exactly where you are supposed to be at all times. Do not wander off. Do not lose focus. This drive means the difference between eating and starving this winter. It also means jackets, new clothes, and something warm to sleep on. You think it's cold now? Wait another month. Bring your med packs and stick together. Let's do this."
We weren't leaving the camp unprotected, but it felt that way as we were filing out of the gate. I cut through the crowd to get to Clarke, catching her arm. "Be careful out there."
"I will."
Damn, she had pretty eyes.
"Get a room," some asshole cut in, pushing through roughly.
What the hell?
Rogers. The kid who was causing trouble. Guess I didn't scare enough shit out of him last time.
Clarke's mouth pinched when she watched him go. "You be careful too. See you later."
I nodded. Not much else to say.
She'd be walking the line all day, never out of sight of anyone, checking the groups to make sure things were okay. We'd worked out a system of guards to keep watch for Grounders. If anyone showed up uninvited, we'd know in under a minute.
The last thing I wanted to do was watch Clarke walk away from me, but we both had jobs to do.
I turned on my heel and headed out. Let's get this over with.
It was hard as shit. We were dealing with animals that were at least twice our size and weight, and we were operating without any form of communication between teams. I think more deer got past us then we wanted, but we worked at it.
Nobody got gored or trampled. That was something.
Hours went by. We walked the woods, looking for stray animals. We broke off into twos and threes. The last thing I needed was that little pissant Rogers tagging along with me, but we had no choice. Being alone wasn't an option.
Problem was that I knew within minutes that something was off. He kept watching me. "What?" I demanded.
He ran his tongue along his cheek and smirked. "Nothin'."
"Then get your head in the game and pay attention."
"It's just that I was wonderin'," he said, tramping after me, "how the hell you got to be the way you are."
Unease prickled on the back of my neck.
"I mean, did we have an election I didn't know about? I might have wanted to vote for the other guy."
I stopped walking. "You got something to say to me, Rogers? Say it."
He tilted his head. "I'm saying that maybe I'm sick of taking orders from you, Blake."
"Is that right? Think you could do a better job?"
He took another step closer. "You know, you give great speeches. The one I liked most was when you told us we could do whatever the hell we want." He held out his hands. "Look at us now."
"Yeah, all those roofs over our heads and walls protecting us must really be damaging your self esteem."
"And then you tossed Ethan. For what? Doing what nature intended? Who put you in charge, Blake? Really, I'm curious."
Son of a bitch. "You're done talking. You don't like the way I do things, you get out. Join your buddy and enjoy nature all you want."
"I'm so scared," he giggled. "Look, I'm shaking. You aren't one of us. You're just some dick that got himself on a shuttle and then hooked up with prime pussy."
My fist slammed into his face. "You're right, Rogers. I'm not like you. I'm actually human."
He spat out blood and swung, knife out.
I dodged and kicked him in the knee. He stumbled and lost the blade.
Fuck! Wet leaves made me slip, and that one mistake was all Rogers needed.
He charged and got me right in the waist hard enough to knock the breathe out of me.
I tripped over a root and we fell.
He got the upper hand and punched me. My head snapped to the side. Blood filled my mouth.
Thick fingers wrapped around my throat. Rage made him strong and he had the fucking leverage, but I wasn't out of this yet.
I grabbed his wrists and dug my thumbnails into the flesh. The hell if I was going to die today!
"No!" A hand appeared out of nowhere and yanked Rogers back by the hair.
Suddenly he was gone.
"Argh!"
No, no, no. Goddammit, Clarke was already dragging him back and off of me.
He lashed out. I didn't see what he hit. She fell.
A sound ripped out of me. Red poured into my vision. I scrambled to my feet to fucking kill the piece of shit that dared attack my girl, but I was too late—Clarke got to him first, stabbing him right in the thigh with his own knife seconds before I grabbed him by the jacket and flung him into the tree.
He hit hard, blood pouring out of his leg.
"You're going to die for that, asshole," I spat, already advancing.
Clarke's voice sliced through the fugue. "Bellamy."
I'd have turned but then I heard what she heard: rustling and an ominous squeal.
Boar.
It burst out of the trees a second later, the two faces staring at us with nostrils flaring and deadly tusks stained with blood. There was a spear sticking out of its side.
How the hell did it get out of the animal drive?
No time. I spun on my heel and grabbed Clarke. "Run!"
She was already in motion, half running with a limp as fast as she could. I heard Rogers scream behind me. There was more squealing and yelling, and what sounded like something ripping. Blood thundering, I threw my arm under Clarke's legs and picked her up, rushing for safety in the trees.
Rogers was still screaming.
I stopped in front of the first tree that had branches low enough to climb. In a split second decision, I put Clarke down and ordered her to use my leg as leverage. She didn't think twice about it. I practically shoved her onto the lowest branch and then climbed up after her. "Keep going!"
Up, up, up, far enough that nothing that wasn't on two legs or a cat could climb.
Not away from the screams though.
They suddenly gurgled then cut off. I pressed Clarke against the trunk and listened, trying to hear over the sound of my own pounding heart.
Nothing. Just some snorting.
The pig stumbled out of the brush, covered in blood and weaving. It was well on its way to being dead.
Panting, I looked at Clarke. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" I ran my hands over the parts of her I could reach, desperate to find whatever was wrong.
If there was a cut, a break—what about the baby?
Small hands cupped my face. "I'm okay. He punched me in the leg, that's all. I saw you on the ground. What happened?"
She was okay. "The baby?"
"We're fine, Bellamy."
Fine. They were fine. I pressed my forehead to hers. If I were a religious guy, I'd be thanking someone higher up.
Blue eyes were shining with tears. "Tell me what happened."
"He challenged me. Said that he was sick of being given orders." And I was glad he was dead. If the boar hadn't done it, I would have. Losing was not an option, not when Clarke and the baby were depending on me.
She tore away from me and punched me right in the arm.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Don't you ever let anybody get you on the ground again!" She hit me again. Oh shit, was she crying? "You could have died! I could have-"
She was going to fall over if she didn't watch it. "Take it easy, Clarke!"
Suddenly she was sobbing. We were straddling a thick branch in a tree while a killer pig was drunkenly circling the forest floor underneath us, and Clarke was crying.
What the...
"Hey." I pulled her hands away from her face. "Hey, Princess, I'm okay. We're all fine, remember?"
"I know," she sniffed, trying to get herself under control. "I know that. This has to be baby hormones. I was nervous all day that something would happen to you, and I was thinking about it too much, and then I saw him trying to choke you...!" She scrubbed at her face furiously. "I'm glad he's dead."
I smiled reluctantly. "Brave princess. You scared the piss out of me too." My hand covered her knee. "Don't ever rush in like that again. I'm serious."
She snorted. "I wasn't just going to let him kill you."
"If it comes down between me and you, pick yourself. Got it? You and the baby come first."
Clarke shook her head, the blonde end of her braid brushing against her jacket.
I stopped the motion. "I am not going to fucking lose you. Never. You survive no matter what."
"Not at the cost of you."
"Do you not understand what I'm telling you? Goddammit, Clarke, I love you!"
"Well I love you too!" she yelled up in my face. "If you think I'm just going to stand back and watch someone take you away from me, you don't know me at all!"
"You have to make the hard choices! If something happens, if I can't win a fight, you have to be the one that takes over." That was a future I didn't want to imagine, but we didn't have the luxury of pretending it wasn't a possibility. We came too close today.
"Only if you swear to me that you'll do the same."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"You said that if I die, you'll take care of the baby. I trust you with that. But if something happens to me and you have to choose between us-"
I didn't want to hear this. I didn't want to even consider it.
"-then you pick her. Even if it means killing me in the process."
That pissed me off. More than Rogers. More than Murphy. It just pissed me the hell off.
But I nodded. What else was I supposed to do?
Clarke's brow furrowed in concern and resignation. "Okay." She looked down, nervous and maybe raw. "I think it's almost dead."
"If it isn't, I'm going to kill it myself," I muttered, swinging my leg over the branch. I was in the mood for it.
The boar was leaning against the tree. I don't know how those stupid little legs could hold up a massive body like that. Nature at its finest.
Not counting the two faces.
I slipped to the branch below ours. "Stay there."
"Be careful."
I went down farther, making sure my boots had a sure footing before easing forward and laying flat on my stomach. The boar was just below me, making weird noises, the spear sticking out of its side rising and falling with every breath.
I hooked an arm around the branch, reaching out with the other...slowly...slowly...
There!
I yanked it out.
The animal yelled but didn't have the strength to go anywhere. I dropped to the ground and rammed the spear into its neck to finish it off.
It collapsed. Dead.
I waited for a second, not willing to chance it. You never knew what a wounded animal was capable of.
It didn't move, so I called up to Clarke that it was safe.
She climbed down to the last branch until she was sitting and about to jump off. "What are you, crazy?" I asked gruffly. "I'll catch you."
I held my arms open.
She arched a brow. "I'm not helpless, Bellamy."
Yeah. Didn't care.
Her lips twitched. Next thing I knew she was thumping against me, arms around my neck.
We didn't talk. We could do that later. First order of business to get back to the others and see how the rest of the animal drive went. Hopefully Rogers was the only casualty. We'd have to come back for the boar later, if at all.
We trudged through the woods, me ahead of Clarke, listening for signs of any more animals. Or worse, Grounders.
Clarke's leg gave her trouble from where Rogers had punched her, but there was nothing either of us could do about it. Soon the wall came in sight, though, and we were in the camp without anything else going wrong.
According to Miller, not one person died. There were a hell of a lot of injuries incurred from sheer stupidity, but Clarke's med boxes and training had come in handy. It probably saved more than one life that day.
It was a friggin' miracle.
I updated Miller on Rogers. Official story was that he got gored while Clarke and I were treed. No use giving any more details than that. Who knew how many buddies Rogers had in camp? Didn't want to give them ideas.
We'd have to watch our backs better from now on, though.
Camp was busting with energy. Everybody was thrilled by our first animal drive. We had meat. We had bones. We had hides. We'd given the middle finger to Mother Nature for once.
I found Peter in the center of the hype, directing like a general. Jasper and Octavia were his seconds. I didn't bother interfering; this was Peter's show. He was the brains of the operation. I just lent my back with pushing carcasses onto stretchers we'd lashed together and hauling them to the meat station. Once they were up to their ears in blood and guts and meat, we redirected to the storage locker.
Goggles called it the Deep Freeze.
He wasn't far off.
It was long, bone breaking work. Didn't hear anybody complain, though. We'd be eating good tonight.
Once the animals were stripped of everything edible, their bones were washed off and then boiled for soup. After that the bones would be used for carving whatever we needed. Maybe even a few things we didn't. Baxter was getting around with those little pendants of his. Sam made some kind of stick thing she used to twist up her hair. That was probably going to be the next thing to flood the ranks.
Hours later, I was so tired I could barely drag myself back to the waginogan. Clarke was inside washing up. She looked back at me, silent and watchful.
Our conversation from earlier came rushing back to me. All of it.
She ducked her head and went back to washing.
I eased up behind her, putting my hands on her naked shoulders. Just to feel her softness. The contrast of her skin and mine made me pause. My hands looked like paws, dirt caked under the fingernails and covered in scraps.
To think, I used to consider being a janitor a dirty job.
Clarke's shoulders slowly relaxed.
"So," I murmured. "You told me you love me today."
She swiped at her forehead in annoyance. "I didn't mean to yell it at you like that. I was supposed to say it nice."
It was easy to step closer, pressing my front to her back and wrapping my arms around her bare torso so I could put my hands flat on her belly. "Had it all planned out, did you?" I could just see it.
She leaned her head back on my shoulder and looked up at me, wincing a little. "Maybe."
Cute.
I leaned my chin on her shoulder and breathed her in deep.
"I got you something."
"Mmm?"
She tried to get out of my arms, but fat chance of that. She had to maneuver around the two of us, picking up a familiar piece of red parachute. "For you."
I cocked a brow. "Did you get me a comb, Princess?"
"Maybe. Open it."
Letting her go in these quiet moments was not my favorite thing to do, but I drew away reluctantly and accepted the thing. It was tiny. Definitely smaller than a comb. I tugged on the string.
The edges fell open.
A tag?
I pinched it between my fingers and brought it up to the light. Bone, rectangular and flat, it reminded me of the things people used to id their stuff with. Holes had been punched into each end and a cord strung through.
There was something etched into it. I looked closer. "A sword?"
"I had this image once—you know what? That's not important. It just seemed to suit you." She licked her lips. "It's a bracelet. It seemed dangerous to have something around your neck, so..."
Was she nervous?
She was definitely nervous.
"Baxter?"
"I sketched and he made. Do you like it?"
I looked at the tag. Tried to think of the last time someone gave me something. Anything.
Octavia.
A guard's uniform.
Notice that my mother was floated before I could get to the hatch.
A demotion.
A gun.
Orders to kill Jaha and a way onto a shuttle bound to explode.
"Yeah." I cleared my throat. "Yeah. It's good."
Clarke narrowed her eyes, looking for the lie. She wouldn't find one.
I held it out. "Wanna put it on me, Princess?"
She slowly smiled. "Okay."
To Be Continued...
Hello! It took me awhile to update; I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with the story and I lost steam because of it. Well, miracle of miracles, I was struck with inspiration and ended up writing the last three chapters, which means this story is up and rolling again!
Thank you for stopping by. Please remember that reviews are how fanfiction writers get paid!