Summary: Non-canon, Drama/Romance, hopefully with some Action/Adventure thrown in. Bellarke, Linctavia and probably more once I get going. :D

Rated M – for adult themes.

Disclaimer: Just borrowing The 100, not for profit!

The Homestead

Chapter 8 – Marcus.

"What if I'm wrong?" Abby had been questioning herself all week. "About the baby."

"The results came back clear, didn't they?" Marcus asked absently. He was packing his bags for Polis and was certain they'd had this conversation at least three times already.

"But what if I've missed something or there are unprecedented complications?"

"You can only work with what you have Abby. Everybody appreciates that."

"I don't think I could bare it if something happened. They've already lost so much." She looked exhausted. Marcus stopped what he was doing and stood in front of her. "They deserve every happiness," she said quietly, her eyes meeting his.

Marcus placed both hands on Abby's arms and gently pulled her into an embrace.

"And they will have it, Abby. All you can do is monitor the situation and make sure everyone is prepared for when the baby arrives."

Abby nodded. She knew the science didn't lie. All of Lincoln and Octavia's tests had come back with normal results and she knew what to do – she had delivered countless babies on the Ark. Yet, she still couldn't shake the uncertainty and doubt surrounding her.

"They're so young…" she was concerned about Octavia.

"How old were you, when you had Clarke?"

"That's different, we were on the Ark."

"Come on Abby, life on the Ark was not ideal, you know that."

"We weren't at war."

"We were barely surviving." Marcus continued to pack his bags. "If we want to survive on Earth, population growth is essential. If we want to thrive on Earth then creating life and building families and communities is even more important."

Abby sighed and lifted her eyebrows at him. She was certain they'd had this conversation three times before. But she realised she didn't mind. It was all that she loved about Marcus - his idealism and vision.

"This baby is not just a new beginning for Lincoln and Octavia, Abby. This baby is a new beginning for all of us."

"I know… but you didn't see them Marcus. Lincoln was afraid, and Octavia – there's something going on with her too."

"Bringing a baby into the world is not an easy thing to do." Abby nodded in agreeance. "They're strong. They've suffered a lot, I know. But they're strong Abby. And they have each other. And they have all of us. That's the key to everything."

"Even Bellamy changed when he found out. It was like someone flicked a switch. Octavia was not happy."

"He just wants to protect his sister. That's who he is."

Marcus finished packing and placed his bags at the door of their shared room.

"I worry about them," Abby sighed – her eyes resting on his luggage. "I wish Clarke was there with them. They always seem more stable when they're all together."

"I know."

"Maybe she could help. They trust her."

"They trust you too," Marcus said, taking her chin in his hands and peering into her eyes sincerely.

Abby was right though. The kids did work better together. But Clarke was needed in the capital. Her work was paramount to peace. Without peace the homestead couldn't exist and everything she and her friends had sacrificed would have been in vain.

Marcus was not prepared to let that happen.

Not after everything those kids had been through, over and over again.

The light of day was slowly dying. Marcus was returning from laundry detail when he noticed the familiar figure slumped over in a posture filled with anguish, his face beaten and bloodied.

He approached the young man slowly, not wanting to alarm him with his presence. Arkadia was in turmoil, tensions were high and everywhere he looked people peered back – their eyes narrow with suspicion and anxiety. Besides, things between him and Bellamy had not been okay for weeks now. Not since Pike had been elected Chancellor.

"Bellamy?" Marcus questioned softly, trying to be gentle and not draw too much attention at the same time. He obviously did not want to be found, having chosen an obscure out of the way corner of the camp to retreat to with his wounds. Why wasn't he at the med bay? And who had destroyed his face? Fresh blood ran across it in streaks, masking his nose and mouth scarlet.

"Get away from me Kane," was all the boy could muster. His voice, however was not filled with warning, it was a desperate plea. Bellamy looked down at his hands like they were disintegrating in front of him and he shuffled away from Marcus as if he was were carrying some deadly contagious disease.

"There's nobody here Bellamy. Nobody can see us. It's just you and I." Marcus reassured him. He wanted him to know that it was safe to talk. That Bellamy could trust him, like always.

But he almost fell backwards when the boy looked up at him.

Beneath the blood, cuts and bruises Bellamy's eyes were watery and wide with despair. They bore through Marcus's skin and bone and cut to the heart.

He didn't know this Bellamy.

"I failed her Marcus," he rasped. "I failed everybody."

Marcus waited, allowing him to feel what he needed to feel.

"Clarke's gone. My sister… hates me. The others… I've led them all… astray."

"No Bellamy, you don't get to own this alone. We are all responsible."

"You tried to warn me.. I..." his voice was broken.

Marcus couldn't think of anything else to say. He couldn't find the words that would bring Bellamy out of himself. That was usually Clarke's job, but Clarke wasn't here.

And then something came to him. Maybe it was the wrong thing, given the current situation and Bellamy's involvement, but it felt right and true and he thought the young man would see his logic.

He hoped.

"Bellamy," Marcus crouched in front of the boy and squeezed his shoulder. "I know you're hurting, and you feel there's no way back from this, but there is."

Then he stood and offered Bellamy a hand up. He looked directly into those sad, lost eyes searching for the survivor he knew was in there somewhere. And when he felt he had connected with the Bellamy he knew, he pulled the boy up onto his two feet and spoke calmly and with purpose.

"Ge smak doun, gyon op nodotaim."

A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long. Honestly I'm not sure I want to continue with this story… I got a little lost…I need to know – should I keep on keeping on? Do you want more?