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!
A/N: Thank-you all for your comments/follows/faves/reads etc. 3x09 was devastating, and let me assure you I will NOT be writing that death into this fic. 3x10 was so tense. This season has been incredible and I'm hanging out so badly for the crew to get back together. Hope that happens in 3x11, please no spoilers though! :D
The Homestead
Chapter 18 – Bellamy
Neither of the two were particularly happy that Octavia was spending the entire week away in Polis, but both agreed it was the perfect opportunity to work on extending the hut.
Bellamy had spoken to Lincoln about it not long after his proposal to Octavia, offering his labour as a "wedding gift." They had not intended to keep it a secret from her, but once she was assigned market detail for the rotation, Lincoln suggested her week away would be a good time to work on the expansion, without having to disrupt her – or her disrupt them.
They worked late, after finishing their respective details at the ranch. Bellamy returned to the homestead well after dark and collapsed into his cot to ready himself for toiling on the crops the next morning.
On the fifth day Miller, Monroe and Murphy joined them, after recognising Bellamy's unusual tardiness in the mornings and his absence from the evening meal. Octavia and Lincoln hadn't publicly announced the pregnancy, so Bellamy had refrained from informing anybody about the building works, but it was clear that these three had cottoned on.
Octavia's bump was becoming more and more obvious but she wasn't making a huge effort to hide it, much to Bellamy's delight.
Not only was he dying to brag about being the only Skaikru Uncle amongst them, but it felt phenomenal to be able to witness Octavia growing into a mother – not just physically, but as a person. Also, there was something so liberating about the fact that Octavia wasn't trying to hide anything – because she didn't have to hide anything.
His mother's pregnancy was entirely the opposite.
It was a tense nine months and he was glad Octavia did not have to endure a similar experience.
The anxiety didn't end once Octavia was born either. In fact, as soon as he held his baby sister in his arms – the overwhelming sense of responsibility he felt for her, overtook his young life.
Ironic how one colossal error in his judgement had eventually brought them both to the ground where they had equally cemented their strength of character, found love, purpose and an even bigger family – things that may have never been possible for them on the Ark.
Bellamy had been thinking a lot about family lately.
He both loved and hated the fact that the sometimes monotonous work on the homestead and the lack of urgency and need for immediate survival in their daily lives, leant itself to endless internal ponderings.
When the 100 had first landed on earth, there was little time to calculate and process – most of their decisions and strategies were knee-jerk reactions. In hindsight some of their choices were rash and unnecessary. He tried not to look back too much, unless he was faced with a repeat situation and wanted to draw on the success or failure of the previous experience.
Ever since the summer solstice, Octavia's pregnancy and Lincoln's proposal, he had been looking forward more than usual though – daydreaming about what might be ahead - the possibility of a real life with Clarke. He'd had some similar thoughts before, but they were always clouded with uncertainty. He couldn't really ever see past just physically being with her. Not that he minded. Those visions were always worth indulging.
Now, however, Bellamy could see a way, so much clearer, full of rich detail and sensation. Everything he hadn't even realised he wanted, let alone dreamed he could have, was so close he could almost touch it.
Bellamy begged the stars above not to let it slip between his fingers, like it had so many times before.
He didn't think he would be able to rebuild himself if he lost everything again.
Not this time.
The morning after the fire Bellamy and Clarke stood shoulder to shoulder, amongst the charred remains of the homestead hall and declared to all of their people, with united determination, that their dreams would not be deterred - that like the legendary phoenix - they would rise up again from the ashes.
And that's exactly what they did.
Bellamy was grateful that Emerson's life was the only one lost that day. He couldn't help grieve, however, for everything they had achieved – all the blood, sweat and tears they had invested in the homestead infrastructure.
He couldn't help but feel that it wasn't just their time and resources that had gone up in smoke; it was the sense of place itself – the sanctuary of it, the homeliness.
Somehow Emerson had violated the haven they had created – tainted their safety and sense of belonging. So, it wasn't just buildings that Bellamy had to help restore - it was faith, hope and a sense of community. He needed people to believe in those things again and to do that he had to believe in them himself.
So he became a believer.
And he poured his heart and soul into resurrecting their home.
It was all or nothing.
Emerson's life had been the only one lost that day, but Bellamy himself, couldn't help think that he had lost so much more than life itself.
He had lost the very thing that made his life bearable.
He had lost Clarke.
At first he thought they'd finally found each other – embracing down under the ground, beneath all of his carefully built dreams burning away.
He thought they'd finally be able to figure out what it truly was between them.
They'd come close before – but not as close as this.
They had clung to each other until they were pulled apart by circumstance, and the next morning, as though everything before had been imagined, they automatically returned to their respective roles.
They were side by side. They shared a common goal. They did it for their people. They were together, but not together.
Two days after the fire, Clarke came to him – her newly appointed guard, Nash, but metres away.
She had news from Polis.
"They want me to officially become Commander," she stated unemotionally, without even looking him in the eye.
Bellamy stared at the top of her eyelids, not saying a word.
She couldn't handle his silence.
"Tell me you don't want me to go, Bellamy," her voice was on edge. "Say the words and I'll stay."
She looked at him then and wished she hadn't. His eyes were drowned with sorrow and loss.
How many times had he asked her to stay - to come home to her people?
Not this time.
"I can't do that Clarke." He raised his eyebrows and shook his head ever so slightly. "You know that."
She nodded feebly, her lip trembling.
He didn't blame her. He didn't blame anybody.
They both knew it was the right thing to do.
Asking her to stay would be selfish.
Especially now, when their people were so vulnerable and the clans were relying on her to hold them together.
Her people needed her. Hell - everybody needed her.
And the homestead needed him.
It was impossible. They were impossible.