The first time I felt the butterflies, I thought it was indigestion.
The second time, I thought I was nervous.
The third time? I started to get worried. I mentioned it to Mom during one of our regular, semi professional meetings, where both of us understood that there were things we weren't saying.
Her eyes welled up with tears. "It's the baby kicking, Clarke."
Kicking?
Of course, I thought a second later. Why didn't that occur to me before?
I teared up. Mom cried.
The fourth time it happened, I ran to find Bellamy as quickly as I could and shoved his hand up my shirt right there in front of everybody.
I'd be very embarrassed about that later.
The look on Bellamy's face made it all worth it. "Is that...?"
I nodded, biting my bottom lip. It felt like I was bursting.
His grin lit up the world. "Wow."
"Clarke. Wake up."
"Bellamy? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Come outside. You've got to see this."
The first thing I noticed was how cold it was. Sometimes I thought winter on Earth was even colder than billions of miles in space, but today it felt different. I stumbled to my feet, keeping the furs around me. Bellamy had his pants and pants on. I was too tired to do more than distantly appreciate that. Pregnancy wore me out more quickly than I thought it would.
All the cobwebs in my head disappeared the second Bellamy pushed open the door of our waginogan.
White. Everywhere.
"Oh my god," I breathed. "Snow."
Bellamy grinned. "Welcome to your first snowfall, Princess."
His first snowfall too. Our first snowfall!
People were already running around like idiots, sticking out their tongues to catch the flakes. Science said that each one was unique. But knowing that and seeing it were two different things.
Excitement welled up inside of me so fast I couldn't contain it. I rushed back to the bed and threw the furs down, scrambling for my clothes.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bellamy said, catching me around the waist. "Easy there, Clarke. I don't want you to fall."
Only three months into my pregnancy and he was already this protective. Even with my boobs hurting, the fact that none of my old clothes were fitting anymore, my occasional moodiness, and an appreciation for certain types of meats that I'd never experienced before, of the two of us Bellamy was definitely having a harder time.
"Then come out," I said, kissing him, "and make sure we stay safe."
He chuckled against my mouth. "Oh, I plan on it. You'll never shake me off now."
I just smiled.
Seven people died that winter. It was a hunting party that got lost during a storm and never made it back. We wouldn't come across their frozen bodies until much later in the spring.
In the meantime, a shaky truce with the Grounders ensued. Bellamy was the least surprised of all of us. "It's tradition," he told me gruffly one night. "Goes all the way to the Etruscans. Fight in good weather, then go home to tend to crops. Survive winter, get ready in spring-"
"Then try to wipe everybody out in the summer," Jasper finished with a kind of horrified respect. "Dude."
Monty clapped him on the shoulder. "Here, bro, it'll take your mind off of things." He handed him a drink.
Was it my imagination, or was Sam watching Monty from under her lashes?
Baxter darted a look between the two. Sad acceptance flashed across his expression.
No. It wasn't my imagination at all.
When I was five months pregnant and having serious issues with mobility, Bellamy started planning our house in earnest. He thought about it day and night. If he wasn't seeing to camp business, he was obsessing over the plans.
It represented something more than a house to him. It was security. It was safety.
I knew neither of those things were real. It was just a thing, a building of wood that could burn as much as the next thing. I wanted it for the baby, but Bellamy? He needed it.
The day it became warm enough to think about laying foundations was like all the good parts of Unity Day to the power of three for him.
"I'm getting a bassinet for you," he told the baby one night. Well, my belly, which was as big as Mt. Weather at that point. "We're thinking up a harness too."
I stroked his hair. "Are you talking to me or her now?"
"Both of you. We'll need a way to carry her around with us."
The thought of hauling around a child while I set broken legs was both horrifying and a little funny. "What are we doing?" I muttered out loud. "This is crazy."
He raised his head and arched a thick black brow.
I smoothed it. "I'm trying to picture you giving one of your speeches with a baby strapped to your chest."
He played with my finger while he pictured it. His lips twitched.
God, I loved this man. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Those first few days on Earth seemed like a thousand years ago, back when we were young and scared. Now we were older, still scared, but how I felt now and how I felt then were two different animals.
"How did we get like this, Bellamy?"
"Well, Princess, when two people love each other very much, they give each other a special-"
I slapped his shoulder. Idiot.
Sometimes I think Bellamy genuinely forgot he wasn't there for the baby's conception, but then again, there were moments I did too.
Finn. My chest squeezed with a touch of regret. I would always have complicated feelings about him: anger, pity, a tragic sense of loss for someone who died too young. In the end, however, I had to concentrate on the living. On Bellamy. On the baby. On our lives together.
So I smiled at Bellamy and asked, "Is that how you're going to explain sex to her? I think you need work."
"Good thing I have forty years to practice, huh?"
My brows shot to my hairline. "Forty years? Is that how it's going to be?"
"Princess, have I ever given you the impression that I'll be a laid back father?"
Not for a single second. "You are in for such a hard time."
When I was six months pregnant, malnutrition became a real issue in camp. We had to organize another animal drive.
Another death.
Bellamy threw himself into the building of the cabin, which was halfway done by the time the snows finally melted completely.
Spring was beautiful, but with it came the discovery of the hunting party we lost. That was a solemn day.
Bellamy didn't come home that night.
The next morning he showed up with the bassinet, which was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
I cried.
When I was seven months pregnant, Bellamy finished the house. It was a one room cabin with a real roof and a floor and a door we could lock. There were windows that closed via shutter. There was a rough chimney for a fire and a bed.
I looked around, marveling at the tangible evidence of Bellamy's love. Featured prominently was the bassinet, already covered with furs and gifts Raven and the others kept leaving.
This wasn't the only cabin, but it was the first to be completed.
I was speechless.
"What do you think, Princess?"
I knew Bellamy like the back of my hand. He was nervous, waiting for my approval, watching me with steady dark eyes.
Did he really think I wouldn't like it?
Coming to a sudden decision, I walked to the door and threw the latch.
"Clarke?"
I walked up to him and just kept pushing back until his knees connected with the bed. He sat with a thump, confused until I used his shoulders to help myself kneel between his spread legs.
Comprehension flashed when I reached for his pants and dragged them down with one pull.
"I take this to mean you—Ahh," he sighed, his head falling back.
I smiled. "Shut up, Bellamy."
When I was eight months pregnant, all the snow was gone and the weather had warmed up.
And I was going crazy.
Absolutely, completely crazy.
"We won't be out of sight of the wall," I said calmly.
"No." Bellamy paced the floor of our house back and forth, restless energy coupling with worry so tangible it radiated from him.
I wasn't asking permission, but that was the last thing I was going to say when he was in a state like this. "We need the herbs, Bellamy," I opted for instead.
"Then let Monty go out there by himself."
"It's right outside. The whole thing will take fifteen, twenty minutes at most."
"No, Clarke. Not this late."
He was going to drive himself—and me—insane before the baby came. Every day he sensed a new danger. Every night he had a nightmare. Me too, if I was being honest, but at least mine were a symptom of pregnancy. Bellamy's worry was of an entirely different breed. "Bellamy, I need to walk."
He stopped and looked at me, a wild black curl almost covering one eye.
"I have been trapped in this camp for a very, very long time. I'm going a little out of my mind, to be perfectly honest. I want to remember what it looks like on the other side of that wall." I stood and walked over to him. Actually, the proper word was waddled. Having a big belly threw my center of gravity for a loop, and the result was this ungainly sway in my stride that I was half afraid would never go away, even after the baby was born.
I cupped his face, stroking a freckled cheekbone. "Hey," I murmured.
The hard lines of his face softened. "Hey." His hands rose to settle on my hips.
"What if we took a guard? Someone armed to the teeth?" That seemed more than reasonable, especially considering how far we weren't going to go.
He shook his head slowly. At least he had the decency to look conflicted. "I can't spare Monroe or Miller."
"Then we'll take someone else.'
"I don't trust anybody else. Not with you." His hand slid to my belly. "Not with her."
I sighed in frustration. "Please, Bellamy." I didn't know why this was so important to me. It just was. I was sick and tired of the camp and everybody in it. It was barely outside the gate. I hadn't seen anything beyond that wall in months. I felt like we were back on the Ark, cooped up in a tiny room with the same four corners.
I just wanted to move.
Outside was green and beautiful and just within reach. We hadn't had anyone act up in camp for a while. Maybe that was a good sign?
I wanted to believe that. I had to make myself believe that, especially after what happened with that one kid—Rogers, back on the first animal drive.
The last few months were a blur of getting ready for the baby and battling fears and trying to pretend that everything was okay when sometimes it just wasn't it. I wanted a tiny slice of one morning thinking about something else. Was that really so wrong?
I posed the question to Bellamy and he didn't have an answer. He knew as well as I did that we were both suffocating from what-ifs. "Twenty minutes," I repeated softly. "You can time me."
He was soft and warm, his big hand settling on my cheek to stroke the curve. "Turning your puppy eyes on me isn't going to work, Princess."
"Is that so?" I pouted.
"It isn't safe."
"It's never going to be safe, but that's not going to stop me from living."
He wavered. He wanted to say no, but he knew I had a point. "Alright," he sighed reluctantly. "Twenty minutes. That's it. But it can't become a habit, got it? At least not until the baby gets here."
Which was starting to feel like never, to be honest. I was sick of being pregnant but scared of what came next. Not a fun situation to find ourselves in.
I kept that to myself and brought his face down to kiss.
When I told Monty what we were up to, he looked relieved. "I need to get out of here."
"I know what you mean," I sighed, patting my distended belly.
"Hey," a new voice interjected. We turned to see a tall, slender guy with dirty blond hair. "Bellamy said you needed a guard."
He looked familiar, but it took a second for me to place him. Benny. I couldn't remember what his crime on the Ark was. Usually that didn't matter much to me. This time, though, something about this guy brought Confinement back to mind, bold and clear.
Pregnancy paranoia? I'd reserve judgment for the moment. I shoved aside the feeling and looked him over. "Are you ready?"
He grunted and shrugged. "Let's get going."
Well, he was in a hurry. I glanced at Monty and he shared the same feelings, apparently. We all lined up and waited for the gate to rise. Bellamy was, for once, nowhere in sight.
Pretty rare thing these days, I thought with a smile to myself.
It really was a short walk to our destination, straight past the graves of the kids that would never see another year. And here I was, pregnant at eighteen. That still amazed me from time to time. When we came back, I was going to stop at Wells' grave and tell him about it. I hadn't a chance to do that in months.
My baby wouldn't have a friend like I had in him—at least not for a while—but it was something I wanted to share. Bellamy didn't think there was a place after death. I was a little more open to the subject, and if I was right, I wanted to tell Wells' how it felt to be this close to a new life. I was on the edge of something I never thought I would have.
It was hard. It was weird. It was terrifying.
I stepped over a few tree roots, the forest floor crunching under my feet, thinking of the first time we walked through here. We were just kids then. Babies ourselves, compared to now.
Now I was almost a mother, and my child was going to grow up navigating a world I barely understood.
That was probably the worst part of all of this, I thought as I bent down and got to work with Monty. All the things I didn't know. Did every new parent worry about that or was it just me.
I ignored Benny, who was still giving me a creepy vibe. He kept looking around, which was technically what he was supposed to do, but something about it just wasn't hitting the right note.
So much so, that after five minutes, I was looking for a way to whisper to Monty that we should leave. This wasn't just pregnancy paranoia. This was a real feeling and I needed to talk to Bellamy about it.
"Monty-"
He looked up just then, eyes snapped wide. "Clarke, look out-"
I tried to whirl. My center of gravity made me skid and I threw out my hands, desperate for balance.
Monty grabbed me.
Was it Grounders? Radiation fog?
It was Benny. I looked at his knife and then at him, dread dropping my heart to my feet. "What are you doing?"
He smirked. "Just a little payback."
Monty was suddenly in front of me, arm around my belly. "What the hell, dude?"
Heart pounding, I glanced back at the wall. Just far enough away to be out of line of sight. Too far to run.
The line of graves looked start against the weathered wood.
"Let's just stay calm," I said, clutching at Monty's sleeve. "We can talk about this."
A shadow separated itself from the trees. Not a Grounder; he was a kid I didn't recognize, but he had to be one of the hundred. Or he was. Right now he looked half insane, his hair long and uncut, with a scar across his face. He looked like a starving ghost, gaunt and ready to drop, but the hate in his gaze was overpowering.
"You're that guy Bellamy threw out," Monty growled. "The one that was hurting Sam."
The rapist.
Oh god.
He smiled, an ugly twisting of his lips, eyes gleaming with triumph. "Give the Agro a gold star," he sneered.
We were still easing back, edging toward the safety of the wall. Monty's arm was warm but we needed more than that. We needed help. Guns. Something. Anything.
Nausea was threatening me, and for once it had nothing to do with the baby. It was cold, stark fear.
This was someone who hurt people for pleasure. He hurt Sam, the sweetest person I knew, who wouldn't say boo to a fly. He was a predator, and when he looked at me, raking his disgusting gaze down my body, it was like he was looking at prey.
My hand settled on my stomach. How dare he? What kind of lowlife scum went after someone weaker than himself? What kind of twisted soul raped?
Anger made me brave. "What do you want?" I bit out.
"Didn't you hear Benny? It's called payback, bitch. Fuck Bellamy. Whatever the hell we want? What a crock." He pulled out a long piece of sharpened bone strapped to a handle, pointing it at me. "Move another step, and we won't even get to the fun part of today."
Benny laughed. "I'm looking forward to that."
The leer on his face left little doubt what they had planned.
My stomach roiled. Had they been planning this? How? When?
"I've been waiting a long, long time." The kid's voice pitched higher.
Insanity.
"Run, Clarke," Monty whispered seconds before he launched himself at Benny.
No time to think. No time to decide. I just turned and ran.
"Help!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, dodging tree roots I couldn't see, heart pounding. "Somebody help!"
Have to go have to go have to survive have to live-
A hand buried itself in my hair and yanked. I couldn't keep my balance and crashed to the ground, twisting at the last minute to protect my stomach.
Pain burst in my chin when I cracked it on a root. My vision dimmed.
The hand was back in my hair, pulling me up on my knees roughly. "Please," I said through tears I couldn't stop. "Please don't hurt me."
I didn't care if I was begging. The baby. The baby had to live.
"Please-"
"Shut up!" he hissed, the bone knife flashing when he held it to my throat.
There was someone shouting on the wall.
He pulled me up. It hurt so much I didn't even make a sound.
Monty was on the ground, holding his head. Benny was next to him, writhing, his knife in his side.
"Shit," my captor muttered. "Let's go."
He didn't wait for me to follow. He just pulled and I went, clutching his wrist. He pulled and he pulled until we were past Monty and deeper in the woods.
Fight back, instinct urged.
No. If I did that and missed or made a misstep or moved just a fraction too late, he'd turn that knife on us. I couldn't risk that. He wanted to hurt Bellamy. He wouldn't hesitate killing me and the baby if he thought that was the way to do it. That was probably his plan now.
Bellamy. I had to stay alive long enough for him to find us. He'd come. Nothing short of an act of God would be able to keep him away. Just a few minutes, I thought wildly as we went who knew where, that was all I needed. Then Bellamy would come and this would all be over.
We weren't that far from the camp. Surely by now everyone would be rushing out and see Monty and Benny.
Just a few minutes-
The trees abruptly fell away, revealing a creek. There was a little boat on it.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. Was this real? A source of water this close to camp, and we'd had no idea it was here.
How had we survived this long?
He pushed me down the slope. I barely caught myself from falling, my side aching and my teeth clenched together. "Get in or die."
I couldn't even see my toes. He wanted me to get in a boat?
His head snapped back to me. The blade stabbed in my direction. "Get in!"
That was the insanity of someone who knew he was being hunted.
I grabbed the lip of the wood and practically fell in. The boat bobbed dangerously from side to side. I had no time to recover before he pushed us off and threw himself in after me.
The current was fast. Faster than I would have credited, taking us away from the shore by the time I struggled to a sitting position.
There was foliage—thick ferns and dead tree branches lining the way. It was so dense that anything I thought looked familiar quickly vanished.
Bellamy would track us, but he wouldn't be able to see where the creek went right away. No wonder we didn't know it was there.
My heart lurched.
He'd find us. I was sure of it. But would he do it in time?
Thunder rolled overhead.
The guy—whoever he was—took out a long pole and dug it into the water and the bed below. We went faster. Suddenly the creek widened and I realized something else.
This wasn't a creek.
It was a tributary, filtering us right into the river.
His back was to me. The knife was back in his belt. He had a pole and he was armed, but if we got any further out the water would sweep us away and the chance of Bellamy finding us would dwindle.
One chance, I realized suddenly. My one and only chance.
I pulled myself up to my knees. The water was already too wide. I'd never reach the shore on my own if the boat overturned. We'd sink like rocks and drown.
The thought made me freeze.
Just then a blur appeared out of the trees and launched itself at the boat. Monty landed with a thunk and a curse.
We tipped dangerously. I clutched the edges and tried to keep from crying out.
The guy whirled and Monty punched him right in the neck, just the way Miller taught him.
The pole went sailing into the water when the boy clutched his throat. I dove for it, pawing at the water, but it was gone.
We had no way to steer.
Monty hit him again, and again. They grappled and I hung on, too frightened to pray. The baby. The baby.
They went overboard.
"Monty!"
To Be Continued...
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