"Monty!" I screamed again, frantically searching the water.

Please don't drown. Please don't drown!

His head popped up a second later, mouth open in a gasp.

I didn't think twice—I grabbed him by the hair and pulled, dragging him toward the boat. He latched onto the side.

Counterweight. We needed counterweight. "I'm going to lean back," I told him desperately, thunder drowning out my words. "I'm going to lean back and pull! Climb in!"

We strained as hard as we could.

When he fell into the boat with a wet splash, I had never been so happy in my life. "Are you okay?" I ran my hands over every part of him I could reach, checking for breaks and cuts almost without thinking. "Tell if any of this hurts."

Monty coughed up a mouthful of water. "C-Clarke. I'm good. I'm okay. Are you alright?" He sat up, worried. "Did he hurt you?"

The enormity of what just happened hit me. "I thought you were dead." I threw my arms around him. "You're okay."

He squeezed me back. "Yeah. Yeah." I felt him nodding against my neck. "I guess all that training actually worked out."

That hysterical laugh from earlier escaped in a loud bark. I was just so damn relieved. "You were great," I said as I pulled back. "My hero."

He laughed too.

Just like that, my chin trembled. "I was scared," I heard myself admitting. I didn't mean to say it.

He took my hand and nodded. "Are you really okay?" he asked, searching my face.

"I think I will be." Thank God.

"Clarke!"

My heart leaped.

"Clarke!"

I twisted, scanning the shoreline. When did we get to the river? When did we get this far out?

Bellamy tore out of the trees, his pale face clear even at this distance, shouting my name.

Happiness ripped through me. "Bellamy!" I yelled back.

"Clarke!" He started running along the river's edge as more and more figures popped out of the woods.

There was no way he could reach us. We were already in the danger zone, exposed to Grounders. We had no way to steer and the way was too rocky for him to keep following, the edge steeper and steeper until it was nothing but a sheer stone wall, the side of a mountain that had crumbled a long time ago. I saw Miller following close behind, saying something to Bellamy I couldn't understand.

A second later Bellamy tried diving into the water. Idiot! He couldn't swim!

Miller grabbed him at the last second, dragging him back.

Bellamy was yelling and swinging.

"Jesus," I heard Monty whisper.

I looked. The river was bending. We only had a minute before we disappeared from view. "Try to steer with your arms!"

The water was bitterly cold when I shoved my arms into the depths, the current so strong it almost pulled me out before I could correct.

Monty was right there with me, paddling.

I thought it was a splash at first, but then it happened again and again, big fat droplets landing on the back of my neck and my cheek. The skies had opened up and rain coming down.

My last sight of Bellamy, right before the mountain blocked my view and the rain came down too hard to see, was a second after Miller punched him hard enough to make him crumple to the ground.

Bellamy.

No, no time. Had to focus. "Keep paddling, Monty! We've almost got it."

That wasn't true. It took a lot longer than that to get to the other side of the river. By then we were soaked, cold from the rain and the water, and my teeth were chattering. The pain in my side was turning into a spasm. From the cold? I struggled to get my thoughts together, watching Monty snag what branches he could to pull us in. The boat bumped the ground a second later. On the wrong side, but it was better than drifting. He held onto the branch and put a foot on solid ground, balancing between it and the boat.

He stuck out his hand and I grabbed it. "Put your foot out, Clarke. When I pull, I want you to throw your arms around me, okay? I'll do all the work."

I didn't argue. I didn't even point out the possibility of falling back into the water if we didn't time this just right. Monty had a firm grasp of how dire our situation was. I could trust him. That had been true almost from day one.

He looked me in the eye. "Ready?"

I nodded. "One, two..."

"Three!"

We pulled it off without a hitch, but at the last second we spun and fell—onto the ground, splattering into the mud.

More pain in my stomach. A quick jolt and it was gone.

Monty scrambled to his knees. "Clarke, God, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I panted. "We're fine. We have to find shelter." There was no way we could navigate this insane rain, which was so hard and violent it pounded onto my skin like little pebbles. "Help me up!"

We were in bad shape. We stumbled alone, trying to see more than a foot in front of us. I spared a thought for Bellamy, but the trouble was so immediately present that I couldn't dwell on the worry for long. Priority was shelter. Then rechecking for wounds we might have missed. We'd rest a minute or two and wait for the storm to let up, and then we'd go back up the river until we came to a part that was narrow or shallow enough to cross.

All of that while being incredibly pregnant and avoiding Grounders.

Easy peasey, some strange and perverse part of my brain quipped. It was something Dad used to say.

Yeah, I thought with my teeth chattering, totally easy.

By the time we found the cave, I knew it wasn't just the fall that had hurt me.

It was labor.

I was in labor.

I tried to hide the fact from Monty—which was a rash decision utterly influenced by the day's events. It was worry and fear all mixed together. The last thing I wanted was for him to go into a panic too. We weren't that far from camp, at least theoretically. The process of giving birth took hours. It wasn't beyond the realm of expectation that the rain would let up, allowing us to reach camp before I needed real assistance.

So I kept mum.

The rain did not let up. More than an hour passed. I clutched Dad's watch to my chest and focused on my breathing now and then, trying to clear my mind of worry and stress to concentrate on staying calm.

The moment I realized that the situation was not going to turn to my favor was a difficult one. It meant accepting that all my careful plans had been systematically destroyed. There was going to be no birthing hut. No Raven to assist. No Bellamy for moral support. The pains were coming harder, longer, and the only two people I could rely on was myself and Monty Green.

When I told him what was happening, he went quiet, as though waiting for me to tell him it was a joke.

Another hour later, and I really, really wished I could oblige him.

Oh God. Oh God. I'd never felt anything like this. I didn't know—I knew but I didn't know—what the pain of giving birth would feel like. A human being was trying to make her way into the world via my body, and it was trying its hardest to make sure she got there.

It was agony.

I fell back, panting, dazed, sweat on my forehead and under my arms. Fear raced through me. This was just the beginning. How was I going to keep the screams in when things got bad? I wanted to cry at the thought of things getting worse, but I kept it back. I couldn't fall to pieces. The baby was what mattered. Making sure she lived was what mattered. I had to get through this. I had to keep my screams in. There was no choice.

Monty was pale and drawn under his beautiful complexion. His eyes were wide, and I think he was almost as scared as I was. But he saw me looking at him and he reached out to hold my hand. "You're going to be okay, Clarke. We're all going to get through this."

I blinked back the wetness, feeling raw and vulnerable. "I'm n-not so s-sure." Another contraction welled up. I gasped and clenched my teeth so hard I thought they'd crack. I breathed through them, desperate to keep all the sounds in. When it receded, I wanted to go limp and slip into unconsciousness. "I've got to get up," I told him. "I've got to walk."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

I nodded, crawling up. He helped me stand. "Gotta let...gravity...do its work." I stood on shaky legs and clutched at his arm before I transferred my hold to the wall. I looked at him, this poor kid who liked to be in the background, stuck with me during one of the most awful moments of both our lives. "I'm sorry, Monty. I really am, but I need you. I don't know if I can do this without someone." Bellamy, my poor heart cried. I needed Bellamy.

Bellamy wasn't here. Monty was.

He looked terrified, but he gulped that down and managed a smile. "Don't worry. It'll be a piece of cake." He even managed to sound like he believed it. Monty would do what needed to be done. He was quiet, but he was strong. He could handle this.

"I've never eaten cake," I told him, trying to inject some humor. "Have you?"

"No. Give me a growing season or two. By the time this baby is two, I'll have all the ingredients to make her the first cake any of us have seen."

I smiled. There were so many things we could do, so many possibilities to explore. "I'd like that for her, you know? And if anybody could do it, it's you." I wiped at my sweat. I was shaking with fear and pain, but dammit, I was hot and cold. "Monty."

He crowded closer. "What's the matter? Need me to hold your hand again?"

Yes, but not for the reason he thought. I seized his hand in both of mine. "If something happens to me—anything—I need you to take the baby to Bellamy. Don't bother to do anything for me. No burials. Don't even pause. Just take her and run."

This was the most important thing I would ever do in my life. This was my child. My baby. If she had a chance, then by all that anybody had ever held holy, I'd die giving it to her.

Monty was staring at me, but he said nothing. He didn't try to argue with me. He didn't try to tell me that I'd live and all this was for nothing. We both knew that this might be one of the last things I ever did. If I survived, then we'd keep this conversation to ourselves. I wasn't going to risk leaving anything unsaid on that slim possibility.

"If Bellamy is dead or hurt, someone has to take care of her. Raven, or you, or Jasper, Octavia, or Miller—I trust you. Please make sure she's loved and warm and safe. Just give her this," I hastily pulled off Dad's watch and gave it to him. My words were spilling over each other in my hurry to get them out before the next contraction. "It was my father's and I want her to have it. Tell her something nice about me but let her know I wasn't perfect either. Or him—it could be a him, too, right? I don't know why I didn't think about that. Tell him or her I love them very much, and tell Bellamy-" All the tears I'd been fighting were sliding down my cheeks. "Tell him I love him too."

I swiped at my face. Now was not the time. I had to make sure this went as flawlessly as possible. I sucked in a deep breath and looked at Monty. "Okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Clarke." He put his hands on my upper arms. "I'll do it. I promise." His voice was calm and soothing. I think he realized I was close to breaking from the worry, and he stepped up and became the rock I needed in lieu of Bellamy.

I believed him. I nodded and smiled my wobbly smile. "Okay." I nodded again. "Thank you." I'd never meant anything as much as I meant that.

Another contraction was building, building, and I turned to hold onto the rocky wall of the cave, not even bothering to pray. It would keep going and I was helpless to do more than ride out the storm. When it finally faded, I walked. I walked back and forth so many times I'm sure Monty got dizzy from it.

Contraction after contraction came. It was becoming harder to keep in the screams. In the end I picked up a piece of thick wood laying around the cave and stuck it in my mouth. It was crude and dirty, but it gave me something to concentrate on biting.

My hair clung to my forehead and neck in thick ropes. I was filthy and in so much pain. It was awful. I was so tired but there was no reprieve. Monty started to talk about whatever came into his mind. Jasper. Octavia. His own take on the situation. "He'd be better with Raven," he said once. "He makes her laugh."

"He makes Octavia laugh," I pointed out between contractions.

"Raven needs it. Octavia needs..." He shrugged. "I don't know, actually."

"What about you? What do you need?"

"Me?" He blinked.

I looked at him. Monty was quiet. He was the calm in the storm, but he had a quirky sense of humor too. He didn't pressure people into being more than they were. I'd seen him working with Octavia more than once. Nobody would ever say he was the alpha male, but not everybody needed that in their lives. He was the kind of guy that would be in the background, the tether, and the way station a girl could depend on all her life. The port where all the weary could rest.

I wanted that for him. I wanted a lot of things for all of us, but if there was anybody up there that would listen to just one more wish, I hoped they'd give Monty exactly what he deserved.

The rain had let up and finally stopped, with a little sunshine peeking out, but it was far too late to do anything about it.

Contractions were like being struck by lightning over and over again. It sapped my strength, and eventually I got to the point where even crying out took too much energy. I couldn't walk anymore, and so I crouched on the floor with my back braced against the stone. My stomach was out so far I couldn't see my knees or between my legs. I tried not to think of my fears, but it was almost impossible. So I had to talk. "Bellamy and I have been wondering what she'll be like."

"I hope she takes after you," Monty said, settled next to me. "No offense, but I don't know if I could handle another Bellamy or Octavia. They'd all kill each other."

I laughed. "I have a feeling she'll be trouble one way or the other." The contractions were coming faster now. We'd been at this for hours. I just wanted it to be-

I paused. "Monty," I whispered, striving for calm. "I have to take my pants off. I have to take them off now."

"Like, off?" Monty blanched. "Alright. Want help?"

"Yeah. And my underwear too. Quick, okay? We have to be quick."

"Got it."

Other than his initial hesitation, Monty went through the necessary motions like a professional. We didn't have time to be embarrassed. He saw what he saw. It was going to get worse and we both knew it.

I got back into my crouch and hurriedly put the bit in my mouth. Deep breath, deep breath, pant-

Pain.

Push.

Had to push. PUSH. PUSH!

"Again, Clarke!" Monty said through the haze. "I can see her head! Come on, you can do this. One more time. Good strong push."

This was for her. My baby. I bit into the wood so hard it cracked, bearing down with all my strength and fear and hope and determination-

Oh GOD the pain got worse and then-

Monty reached in between my legs, his face a mask of concentration. "One more time," he ordered. "Her shoulders are out."

I pushed again. I trembled and cried and pushed.

And then-

"She's here, Clarke!" Monty crowed excitedly. He pulled back and there she was, a mass of limbs and blood and other fluids, still attached to me through her umbilical cord.

My child.

I slumped back against the wall, so weak and wet and tired I didn't know if I could ever move again. "Check her mouth," I told him urgently. "Make sure nothing is blocking her airway. Hurry."

He did exactly what I'd asked, using his finger to make sure everything was okay. He used his sleeve to wipe her nose. He did it quickly, like he'd done it a million times before.

The baby jerked, the little face scrunching. A little cry rose up.

My child.

Monty grinned, amazement lighting up his face. "Hi there," he cooed. "It's okay, little girl. I've gotcha." He looked at me. His eyes were a little wet. "Wow. Look what you did."

I smiled through my tears.

"Here, take her."

I held out my arms, and there she was. My little girl. I'd never seen anything so breathtaking. "Hello," I said, a feeling of elation so pure in my chest I could barely keep it in. I smiled, wide and bright, so ecstatic to finally hold her, see her. "Hi," I said again.

"We have to cut the cord," Monty reminded me, reaching for his knife.

I nodded, not looking away. "Do what you can to clean the blade. We've got to sterilize it as much as possible."

Which was to say that we had nothing. No fire. No water. Nothing to clean it with. He tied off the cord with one of my shoestrings and then looked up at the ceiling before he made the cut.

It wasn't over then. I still had to expel the placenta. Birth was messy. Neither one of us cared. I counted all of her fingers and her toes. I checked her out in every possible way to make sure she was fine.

She only had four fingers on her left hand. I stared at it, my throat tightening. Radiation? Genetics? Who knew? And in the end, who cared? She was here. So I smiled down at her and kissed the palm. "You'll be fine, sweetie. I promise."

"What's her name?"

"Nova." Bellamy and I didn't discuss it too much. She was the first baby to be born on our new home and represented our new lives together. Naming her after that made sense.

The placenta came, and I got rid of it while Monty wrapped Nova in my jacket to keep her warm. It was way too cold for her, even in what seemed like the steamy heat of the cave. I was too tired to put on my underwear and my pants again, but I did it anyway. I took her back and held her, absorbing every bit of that moment I could. Monty sat next to me, looking at Nova with wonder. I don't know if he'd ever seen a baby before, really. I didn't see all too many either, and I practically grew up in the med ward.

I picked up his hand and kissed it. "Thank you,"I told him again. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Hey," he protested, flushing. "You're the one that did all the hard work."

And it was leeching my strength from me even then. I knew what I had to do, but I hung on as much as I could, kissing Nova's little face. "She has to eat every two hours," I said wearily. "You can't let her get cold. Wrap her up in a fur if you can. She needs a hat. She'll lose too much heat otherwise."

"Clarke?"

"You've got to take her, Monty. If she's hungry, I'll try to feed her now, but then you have to take her without me."

He shook his head. "I can't. You're fine, right? Right?"

"I'm too weak to go with you. If you stay out here much longer darkness will fall and we can't stay away from camp that long. No, don't argue with me, Monty. You have to get Nova back. Come back for me when you can."

He let his head fall back on the stone, staring at the ceiling again, clearly hating his choices. "You can't die," he said without looking at me. It wasn't like when Bellamy said it. He always ordered me to stay alive. Monty pleaded.

"I'll hang on as long as I can. Don't worry about me. You keep her safe. Get her to Bellamy if you can. That's your only job now."

He looked at me, choking up. "Today is May 19th. Just so you know."

"May 19th," I repeated dutifully. I brushed a tiny bit of her dark babyfine hair aside with a finger. "Happy Birthday, Nova. I love you."

I tried to feed her, but she was too tired. I kissed her over and over, wishing everything good I could for her, and then I gave her over to Monty. "Be careful."

"You too." He gave me one last look at the entrance of the cave, and then he shook his head. "God," he uttered with feeling.

He left, taking Nova with him.

I once read that a child was a woman's heart outside of her body. I now knew that it was true. I lay down on the ground, numb and tired. My baby. I held her. I told her I loved her. I sent her away for safety.

I ached inside, but I knew I had done the right thing.

As my eyes slid closed, I only hoped that Bellamy would be waiting for her.

To Be Continued...

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