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So it's been 2500 days since Praimfaya, and we're going to--
We took a vote on what to do about--you guys, I guess. It was really democratic. You would have liked it. And you definitely would have given the best speech. I'm not sure what side you would have been on, but you would have won. Anyway. We agreed that it was time to have a memorial service and--lost in space. That's what we agreed. we're back on our feet here, and it's not--it's not good for me anymore. It's not good for Madi. We need to figure out our new lives here, our lives--our lives without you guys.
So this is going to be my last call. You know the drill by now: if you're alive come home. I'll still have my radio; if you ever get yours working, I'll pick up. Always. But until then--
May we meet again.
*
Some days, she doesn't think about them at all. After all, she's busy, and she's not so alone anymore. Eden is finally on its feet, a thriving new city blending not only what remains of the thirteen clans, but the new sky people too too. None of them replace the friends she's lost, because people don't replace other people, not really. But it's easier to move on when there's something clear to move onto, when she has a new life and new priorities. When the only thing she had was the hope that they'd come back, she needed that hope.
Now, she has wells to dig and homes to build and crops to manage, and Madi is growing up, making friends and getting crushes, and she doesn't have the luxury of dwelling on the dead.
But of course she remembers them. She thinks of Raven when they're working on breaking the bunker down for parts, thinks of Monty when they catch a few Delphi kids getting high. She thinks of Emori when a baby is born with a stunted arm, and the grounders want to cast her out.
She thinks of Bellamy when she agonizes over decisions, when she's up too late and no one's with her. She thinks of him when she shoulders a gun and aims, when anyone pushes back against her authority, when the light catches Octavia's profile just right and she can see him in her jawline.
It seems so unfair, sometimes; they were the ones who were supposed to survive, and she was supposed to die on the ground. She sacrificed herself to let them live, and it didn't work. They're still gone.
But she's still here. She's doing her best to let them go, day by day. Someday, she thinks she might be able to go a whole week without the sharp memory of Bellamy hitting her like a blow to the chest. It just hasn't happened yet.
It's been 2601 days since Praimfaya when Niylah says, "People have been asking about you."
Clarke's working on the plans for the new housing development, which means the interruption is welcome, if confusing. Looking at blueprints always makes her eyes cross. "What about me? I didn't think I was a mystery. If they have questions about logistics--"
Niylah smiles, gentle. In a way, she was the strangest of Clarke's reunions, a lover she didn't love, an anomaly in her life. She'd been so worried they wouldn't know how to fit back together, that Niylah would want something from her she couldn't give or vice versa. But she'd found a partner in the bunker, and she and Clarke settled into friendship without any real difficulties at all. Clarke doesn't resent her relationship with Cara any more than she resents any of her friends' happiness, which she does in that strange, hot, guilty way, like coal in her stomach. It's that unique, uncomfortable mix of happiness that people she loves are doing well and jealousy that they have things she lacks, and she doesn't like it, but she can live with it.
"You've very popular," Niylah says, voice as gentle as her smile, as if Clarke is a skittish horse. "I've been asked if you might be interested in, well--romance."
"Romance?" she asks, blank.
"I assume you remember the basic idea."
She rubs her face. "We have more important things to think about."
"We have equally important things to think about. You matter as much as anyone else does, Clarke. And what's wrong with a little romance?"
"No one's really asking, are they?"
"They are." She considers. "They gave you one hundred days. It's polite. The traditional mourning period."
"Traditional mourning period?"
"It's not enforced, just--politeness. When someone is lost, you mourn for one hundred days, and then it's over."
"It's not really over," Clarke says.
"No. But I thought I should tell you. By our standards, your life can now continue, and there are people who are interested in that."
"It already could have. It wasn't like I was closing myself off to anything because of that. I'm just busy. Between Madi and work and--" She closes her mouth, knowing she sounds like a career woman in one of the old romance vids she and Wells used to watch, making excuses for neglecting her own happiness. But she doesn't know that romance would make her happy. It's never gone well for her before, after all.
Niylah smiles like she finds the excuse as cliched as Clarke does. "I'll tell them whatever you like. Either you'll start getting offers, or you won't. Or, you will," she corrects herself. "I'm sure you have admirers who haven't gone through me."
"I'm sure," Clarke agrees, mouth twitching. "I don't mind being asked, but--I'm not sure I want that right now. I haven't thought about it in a long time."
"Well, you could try starting again." She squeezes Clarke's shoulder, the kind of affection she gets from so few people these days. When was the last time anyone other than Madi, her mother, or Niylah even touched her? "You deserve to be happy, Clarke."
"I know," she says, her smile genuine now. "Thank you."
Even after Niylah's gone, she has trouble concentrating on her work again, distracted by the thought of these unknown people who have been asking after her, their interest less confusing than their reluctance to express it. Giving up on their friends in the Ark hadn't just been about Clarke; she'd talked it over with the most interested parties, Octavia and Miller, Kane, her mother. They'd had a meeting to discuss it and then a public memorial ceremony. Everything was in the open, but she didn't think there was some sort of recovery period being observed.
After half an hour, she gives up on any kind of productivity and leaves the office to find someone to talk to. Madi won't be done with school for another hour, and even if she was, Clarke wouldn't really want to discuss this with her daughter. Her mother is an option, but not a much better option. Niylah's already said her piece.
So she goes to find Miller.
Somehow, Clarke relates to Miller better than she does to anyone else these days. She thought it would be Octavia she gravitated to, Octavia who had spent six years as Clarke had, wondering when she'd be reunited with her brother and the rest of her friends, in addition to leading and keeping everyone alive. But she and Octavia have never really been on the same page, Clarke's allegiance too tied to Bellamy, Octavia's feelings for him too tangled up in years of strange codependence. And the other common ground she expected to find never came either. Octavia isn't the kind of leader Clarke wants to be, now. They butt heads more than they agree.
But Miller gets it. Miller came out of the bunker expecting to find his friends waiting for him, the same as Clarke woke up five years after Praimfaya expecting them to come up from the bunker and down from the sky. They shared the same heartbreak, people they think of as their people lost, and that's made him easy to talk to.
And Bellamy did tell her to keep him close.
He's been working as a carpenter for as long as they've had things to be building, and he seems to enjoy it more than he enjoyed his guard work. She thinks he's mostly happy, and that's the kind of thing that helps the most. A new life, full of good things for the people she cares about.
She sits down on a pile of lumber near the cabin he's working on, and he barely even glances at her. "If you tell me we aren't building this thing after all, I'm going to throw a hammer at you."
"One time," Clarke says. "We changed our mind this late in the process one time."
"One time so far. What's up?"
"Niylah says people want to date me."
"I don't get the appeal, but I guess I can buy that." He finishes what he was working on and shakes his shoulders out. "I don't know what you want me to tell you. People know you. Some of them hate you, but I'm not surprised some of them don't. Are you?"
"I'm surprised they're talking to Niylah about it, instead of me. Apparently they were honoring a mourning period or something. They gave me a hundred days to recover from the funeral, and now I'm fair game."
"So you think that's why I'm still single?"
She smiles. "They'll be beating down the door now."
"Obviously, can't wait." He cocks his head, studying her. "Does it bother you?"
"It doesn't bother me," she says, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "But I haven't thought about--I don't know. It's been so long since that was even on my radar."
"No wonder you're so grumpy all the time."
"I'm grumpy when I'm getting laid too," she teases, and he snorts.
"That's not something to brag about." She can see him debating with himself, but he finally does ask, "Did you and Bellamy ever--"
"No. We never--" She stops herself, not sure why it feels like something she needs to justify. Except that she does wish they had, now that she thinks about it. If those months were all the time she had with Bellamy Blake, she wishes she'd used them better. "No."
"Figured you might have fit it in before the apocalypse," he says, easy. And then, at once, "Sorry."
"It's okay. That's not--I wasn't pining away for him or anything."
"It doesn't have to be romantic for it to be pining. You were. Fuck, maybe you still are."
"Yeah." She sighs, runs a hand through her hair. "If I start going on dates, I'm going to ask you to babysit."
"Cool, me and Madi can gossip about you."
"That's what I figured, yeah. Thanks," she adds.
"No problem."
She leans back, closing her eyes, just listening to the sound of people working around her. The sun is warm and the air is clean, and she knows she should be happy.
"You think we'll ever feel like we belong here?" he asks. It's not quite reading her mind, but it's close enough. "Stop looking over our shoulders waiting for the next fucking crisis?"
"I don't know," she admits. "I hope so."
*
She's on edge for the next few days, waiting for some awkward romantic gesture from anyone she's ever seen so much as interact with Niylah, but nothing happens for another week, not until she's let her guard down. It's the full moon, and they're celebrating with a festival, as they have every full moon since they opened the bunker. It's nice to have something to celebrate; the cycle of the moon is as good a choice as anything.
Miller is telling ghost stories and Madi is listening, so Clarke has some time to herself, and she's wandering through stalls, looking at the things people are selling. They still don't have much by way of currency, but the barter economy is starting to thrive. People have time to themselves now, time for more than just scraping by.
"It's nice," says a voice, startling her, and Clarke turns to see Toren next to her, smiling.
She likes Toren well enough. He's a representative for Sankru, a few years older than she is, broad-shouldered and quick-witted, with a nice smile. He always reminds her a little of Lincoln, the same warmth and kindness, the same interest in peace.
"Sorry?" she asks.
"The festival. It's nice. I'm glad we kept them."
"Only Azgeda wanted to get rid of them."
"Why have nice things when we could be suffering?" he teases, and she smiles.
"That does seem to be their guiding principle."
He joins her as she walks, and the spot between her shoulder blades starts to prickle with sudden understanding. He sought her out to spend the festival. This is the first step in something, and it makes her heart rate spike, but not in an exciting way. It feels like the start of a panic attack.
Toren must notice, because his smile falters. "I can leave you alone, if you'd like."
"No, I don't mind company. I'm just not looking for--company."
He laughs. "An important distinction. I'm happy with all kinds of company, don't worry. But I had been curious."
"Curious?"
He considers his phrasing. "Is your disinterest in company general, or is it about men?"
"General. And current." She worries her lip. "I'm not against it in theory. But I haven't thought about it since Praimfaya. I'm still easing back in."
He nods. "Well, once you're comfortable, feel free to let me know if your interest extends to me."
"I will," she says. "And I'm still happy to have company."
"Then I'm happy to be that company."
He offers his arm and she takes it and it's nice. Nothing earth-shattering, not some huge, bright revelation, but--nice.
The start of something other than a panic attack, maybe. The start of a new life.
"This was fun," she tells him, when they hear the cheers that indicate Miller's story is over and she should go collect Madi. She even means it. "Thanks for being my company."
"It was my pleasure," he says. "Let me know if you'd like to do it again."
"Yeah. I will."
*
Toren's not the only one to approach her in the next few weeks, but he's the most successful of her suitors. She's still not precisely interested, but she enjoys spending time with him. He's easy to talk to and kind, good with Madi. He makes no explicit overtures after the first conversation, but Clarke feels as if he's hoping, and it makes her feel itchy.
"I should tell him it's not happening, right?" she asks Miller.
"Is it not?"
"Do you think it should be?"
He shrugs. "He's hot, you like him. I don't see the downside."
"I know." She rubs her face. "Fuck. Why shouldn't it, right?"
Miller frowns. "Is this actually stressing you out?"
"Not exactly. I think it's just--I still don't feel like I'm ready to start my life, I guess."
"You're not the only one who feels that way."
"And you're not dating anyone right now either."
"I'm not." He wipes his hands on his pants and comes to sit down next to her, looking thoughtful. "But as far as I know, I don't have prospects. Apparently not all of us have a fan club."
"Most of it's been political. Old habits die hard, and marriages are a good way to secure power and alliances. It's not about me. Except for Toren," she grants.
"You already told him you're not interested, right?"
"I did."
"So he knows. Maybe he still wants to be friends. I don't know why anyone would want to be friends with you, but--"
"Shut up." She considers him. "Do you really not have a fanclub?"
"Not as far as I know." He shrugs. "I'm not pissed about it. I'm good."
"I'm good too," she says. "I'm just not ready."
"Cool," says Miller. "I think he knows. He seems good with this."
"Yeah, I think so. It just makes me feel kind of--I should like him, right?"
"You should do whatever the fuck you want. Seriously, you know how many apocalypses we've survived now? Don't let anyone tell you what you're supposed to do."
"You're not as good at inspirational speeches as--" Her voice dies, but he knows what she means.
"But I'm getting better, right?"
"Yeah," she agrees. "Better every day."
*
"Is Toren your boyfriend?" Madi asks, a week later.
Clarke's been expecting the question, so she doesn't let herself react too strongly. "No."
"He wants to be."
"He might, yeah. But I don't think I want to be dating right now."
She scrunches her face up. "Really?"
"Do you think I should be?"
She shrugs. "Grell says that when people say they don't want to be dating, they really mean no one will date them. But Toren's definitely interested, so--"
"People don't date for all kinds of reasons. I've got enough other stuff going on, I don't need to date."
"Yeah. But you could," she adds. "I wouldn't mind."
"No?"
"I always thought Bellamy was going to come down and you were going to marry him," she says, like it's no big deal, and Clarke's heart actually stops for a second.
"You did?" she manages.
"Yeah. Come on, you talked about him all the time. And I was a kid, it was romantic! What else was I supposed to think?" She finally sees the expression on Clarke's face and stops. "Sorry."
With an effort, she shakes herself. "No, it's okay. I just--I didn't know you thought about that."
"It was a good story," says Madi. "But it's not like I needed it to be true or anything. And they're--" She winces.
"They're not coming down," Clarke says. "It's okay to talk about this stuff, you know. I don't mind--"
"Yeah, you say that. But you should have seen your face."
"I still don't mind. I miss them, and I wish they--I wish they'd made it. I'm always going to wish that. But they didn't, so I'm not going to marry Bellamy. If I was ever going to marry him."
"But you're not going to marry Toren either."
"I'm not going to marry anyone yet. I'm not that old, you know. And marriage isn't everything."
"Okay. But you could get married. I'd be okay with that."
"Thanks for letting me know." She puts her arm around Madi, kisses her hair. "If I want to get married, I'll let you know."
"Let me know before you're getting married," she says, squirming away. "I still have to approve the person you pick."
Clarke smiles. "Yeah, okay. A little before I want to get married, I'll tell you."
"Exactly," Madi agrees. "That's all I'm asking."
*
The thing about surviving an apocalypse is that your dating pool is severely limited. Clarke already felt as if she knew most of the people she might ever be romantically involved with, and that was before most of the population actually died. There are less than 1500 people left in the entire world; she really does know most of her options, at least in passing.
But it's not as if she has to get married either. She could be happy, for the rest of her life, without that.
It's just that if Madi wants that for her, she feels as if she should try. Madi seems to have always assumed Clarke would have someone, once everything was back to normal, and this is normal. So she could try.
"What would a date even look like?" she asks Toren.
He blinks at her. "Excuse me?"
"A date. If I went on a date with you, what would we do?"
"I hadn't thought about it. We could take a walk. With a picnic. Madi can come if you'd like."
"Maybe not. That's not much of a date." She rubs the back of her neck. "I'm not--I feel like an asshole for saying this again, but--"
"But you're still not sure about dating."
"Sorry."
He considers her. "Isn't that part of why dating exists? To find out how you feel about it?"
That does make her smile. She likes him. Really and truly. And maybe he's right. Maybe it could be like that for them, with time and effort. Not everything has to be desperation and passion. Not everything has to be love at first sight.
"Yeah," she says. "I guess that's why."
And it is nice. They have the picnic, and it's a nice afternoon. He cooks her dinner in his house and they sit together at their regular meals. Her mother say she's happy for her, and Niylah says she thinks Toren was the right choice.
When he kisses her, it's warm and nice. She could live with it.
And then a ship falls out of the sky.
*
She's inside when it happens, but the commotion brings her out almost at once. It's mid-afternoon, and from what she hears when she leaves, something streaked out of the sky and impacted across the forest, like ships from the Ark used to sometimes, before Praimfaya.
Clarke's heart stops for a long second, and then it thumps so hard she's worried about medical complications. But she doesn't have time to faint. They have more important things to do.
"I need the rover," she tells Octavia.
"We need the rover," she corrects. "I'm going too." She looks around. "Miller?"
He's already there, of course. "Yeah." The three of them are all that's left of that first hundred on the ground, Clarke realizes. The others went to space or passed away in the bunker.
And Bellamy thought eighteen dead was bad.
"Bellamy," she breathes, the thought of him not a jagged edge, for the first time in a long time.
Two thousand seven hundred and twelve days, to be exact.
"It could be another prison ship," says Octavia, and Clarke can see from the tight set of her jaw that she's trying not to get her hopes up, trying to manage her expectations.
"It could be, yeah."
"Or it could be them," says Miller. "Let's find out."
Madi pushes her way through the crowd while they're grabbing supplies, and no one objects when Clarke puts her in the back seat. If it's the Ark and all seven of them survived, eleven will be a tight fit, but they can squeeze, or some of them can walk. It's not a big deal.
They should have all the time in the world to get back.
The liveable part of the world still isn't so large that it takes long to cross. Clarke doesn't know if the ship purposefully landed away from their settlement or if they just landed where they landed, but it doesn't really matter. It's just something to focus on that isn't--
"Do you think it's them?"
Madi's voice startles her, but she manages a smile. They're in the back together, with Miller driving and Octavia in shotgun, her sharp eyes unable to stay still, as greedy for this as Clarke is, for all she hid it better. "I don't know. It feels like it has to be, but it felt like that the first time too, and it wasn't. Maybe there are more people in space than we know about."
"Do you know how long it's been?" she asks, and it feels like she shouldn't. The ceremony was supposed to be letting go. She isn't supposed to keep counting.
"Two thousand seven hundred and twelve," she says.
"That's a long time."
"Yeah. If it's them, they're really late."
"Better late than never, right?"
Clarke's heart flips. "Yeah."
It's not as easy as she'd like to find a ship that's already landed, especially in the rover. What they gain in speed, they lose in maneuverability, and Clarke is so tense Madi actually puts her hand on her arm when Miller mistakes an old ruin for a new ship.
"We'll find them," she says, and Clarke smiles.
"I know. It's not that big a--"
"You better not be here to kill us!"
Miller slams on the breaks, and they all stare in slack-jawed wonder at Murphy and Emori, standing in the road. Murphy's got a gun and Emori a knife, but neither of them really looks like they're expecting a fight.
"Nathan," he says, recognition flooding his features, and Miller says, "Fuck, I've never been so happy to see that asshole."
He's out of the rover and running over to hug Murphy before Clarke's brain has even quite caught up with reality. It's them. It's really them. They're alive. They're home.
"Clarke," says Madi, shaking her shoulder, and that does snap her out of it. Octavia's already out; it's their turn next.
"They're here," she says, blank, and Madi pushes her a little.
"So get moving. I want to meet them."
She doesn't remember until she makes eye contact with Emori that they think she's dead, not just the other way around. She's spent almost two and a half years thinking they didn't survive in space, but they've spent five years longer than that thinking she died to save them.
"John," says Emori, and Murphy follows her gaze.
"Holy shit."
"You're late," says Clarke, and he laughs, bright and sharp, and comes over to wrap her up. She's never hugged John Murphy before, and she wouldn't have said she regretted that, but after everything, she's so happy he's alive.
"It really is you," he says. "Fuck, you and Octavia? Bellamy might actually die."
He's alive too. Absolutely, completely, unquestionably alive. She sags against Murphy with the relief of it.
"What am I, chopped liver?" asks Miller.
"Comparatively, yeah." His eyes cut to Madi. "Who's the kid?"
She regains enough composure to speak. "Madi. Another nightblood. Madi, this is Murphy and Emori. Where's everyone else?"
"Unloading the ship. We were looking for the welcoming party. Come on, it's not far."
Madi takes her hand as they walk, and Clarke would like to say it's unnecessary, but the support is actually nice. She's a little bit of a wreck. It's not as if she thinks they won't be happy to see her, of course. If Murphy was this happy, she can't even imagine how glad Bellamy and Raven will be that she's alive. They'll be thrilled.
It's what comes after that first rush of joy that has her worried. Seven years is gaping between them, seven years of nothing. The reunion is going to go well, but she doesn't know what's going to happen tomorrow.
Octavia sees him first, and Clarke hears the piercing cry of Bell before she spots him. Octavia may have been turned into a leader under the ground, a hard girl whom Clarke doesn't recognize some days, but the look of pure joy on her face at the sight of her brother is like seeing the girl who chased butterflies again.
She launches herself at him and he catches her, laughing, and Clarke stares while his eyes are closed, takes him in before he's seen her, so she'll have a head start. So she'll be ready, when he looks back and finds her there.
He doesn't look so different, really. His hair is a little longer and shaggier, and his beard has grown in in patches. He's wearing a pair of glasses, and his clothes look a little worse for wear, but--he's still Bellamy. Older and probably wearier too, but holding his sister like he's never going to let her go, murmuring something Clarke can't hear into her hair.
She wants to get close enough to make out the words, or at least to really hear his voice, but it's a private moment, so she hangs back, letting them have it. Hers is coming.
And then Raven says, "Fuck, Clarke!" and he startles up like he's been scalded. Their eyes lock and it's like nothing else in the world exists for a second, just her and Bellamy, staring at each other. Alive. He's alive. He came back to her.
To all of them.
"Hi," she says, and he lets go of Octavia and half-staggers over, stopping short of actually touching her. His eyes are roving over her, taking in every detail, and she's returning the favor. He has some gray in his hair, she thinks, and it's messier than ever, and there's a tear in the left sleeve of his shirt that he really should have fixed, and--
And he says, "Clarke," and she throws herself at him, arms hooking around his neck so she can bury her face there, and she feels him hold back just as tightly, the sharp intake of his breath as he noses her hair. "Clarke," he says again. "Clarke, Clarke, Clarke."
"I know my name, Bellamy," she teases, and his laugh is watery.
"I thought--"
"I know."
His arms tighten; his breath is shaky. "Clarke," he says again, like her name is the only thing that can really capture everything he's feeling.
She gets it. "Bellamy."
As always, she wouldn't mind hugging him for anywhere from an hour to the rest of her life, but it's not really practical. So she counts ten more seconds, and then five more after that when it doesn't feel like it's enough, and then she finally lets him go.
He brushes her hair back, an echo of the last time she saw him, and smiles his familiar half smile. "Hi."
"Hi."
It's a moment that can't help feeling heavy, and she remembers with a rush of heat to her face what Madi said: Bellamy was going to come down, and Clarke was going to marry him.
"How did you--" he starts saying, at the same time she says, "Let me--"
They both smile, and she gestures for him to go ahead, looking around for Madi, finding her with Miller, being introduced to the rest of the group. They did all survive, and they're standing a respectful distance away. Madi is half-listening to whatever conversation is happening while stealing glances at Clarke and Bellamy, just as expected.
"Did the nightblood work?" he asks.
"Yeah. It was pretty rough for a few days, but I made it back to Becca's lab for the blast, and then--"
"You survived."
"Yeah."
He laughs, shaking his head, still staring. "Fuck, I can't believe it. I thought I let you--"
"You were supposed to let me," she teases. "I wanted you to survive, Bellamy. I was so--I thought you didn't make it."
He sobers. "I know. It was rough up there too. ALIE was there."
"ALIE?"
"Yeah. She actually helped. Or we thought she did. We wouldn't have survived without her at first. No one got chipped," he adds, before she can ask. "She didn't have the right setup there to do anything except lie about our systems. She didn't think anything could survive Earth, so she wanted us to stay up there and repopulate. It was actually kind of funny."
"Funny?"
"Me and Raven were her favorites, so she kept locking us in rooms hoping we'd fall in love. It was like being on an old sitcom, except with an artificial intelligence that didn't understand how anything worked."
She smiles a little. "So, no procreation?"
"It was close a couple times. Not for me," he adds. "But Murphy and Emori."
"And that wasn't enough for ALIE?"
"They didn't actually carry the pregnancies to term like she wanted. And we were still trying to get home. Once Raven figure out she was fucking with us, we had to uninstall her and get everything she'd disabled again. It took a while." He looks her over again. "It looks like you guys did okay."
"Yeah." She gestures for Madi again, and she finally comes. "This is Madi, my daughter. Our original nightblood."
He kneels down to smile at her right away, offering his hand, and Clarke feels herself tearing up again. She didn't think this would ever happen. She thought he'd only ever be a story.
"Hi, Madi. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," she says. "You should talk to everyone else if you're done with leader talk," she adds, to Clarke, a slight accusation in her voice. "They missed you too."
"I know. Did Miller introduce you?"
"Yeah."
"Good. You can talk to Bellamy."
There's more hugging with everyone else, a few more tears and similar exchanges about how they thought she was dead and she thought the same, and it's just--
They're finally home.
"You guys must be exhausted," Octavia finally offers. "And we should get back before someone sends out a search party. You think we'll all fit in the rover?"
"Madi and I can walk," Clarke says. "I need her help getting some herbs."
"Clarke," she groans, like she knew she would, and Clarke smiles.
"If we're out anyway."
"I can walk too," Bellamy offers, like she hoped he would. No one else seems particularly surprised either. "Safety in numbers."
"It's a lot safer now," Clarke says. "But we'd love to have you. Eight in the rover should be okay, right?" she asks Miller, and he shrugs.
"We'll fit, yeah." He tosses her a walkie. "Call us if anything goes wrong."
"Will do."
They make sure everyone gets into the rover, which they do, a little snugly, and then it's just the three of them, walking home together. Bellamy's on her left and Madi on her right, and Clarke still can't quite believe it. She's going to wake up at some point and this won't be real. She'll be at home and they'll still be lost.
"I need jewelweed," she tells Madi. "So keep your eyes open."
"Jewelweed's everywhere."
"Then go find some."
She rolls her eyes. "You could have just told me you wanted to be alone," she grumbles, but she dashes off without further complaint.
Bellamy watches her go, slows his pace a little so she won't get left behind. "You said she was the original nightblood. Does that mean there are more?"
"Everyone is now, yeah. The air is breathable, but we found not all the food and water is safe. People were getting sick again, and Madi and I never did, so it wasn't hard to figure out what the difference was. The nightblood treatment isn't fun, but there's no downside other than a little discomfort at the beginning. We'll get you guys done over the next few days."
"Can't wait." He looks around, considering. "It looks a lot better than I thought it would."
"How bad did it seem from space?"
"Honestly, I wasn't sure it was safe either. There were a few spots of green, so we just went for the one closest to where the bunker was. We're lucky it was so close."
"You have no idea."
He shakes his head, letting out a huff of a laugh. It's familiar and unnerving all at once, to be walking with him. There's no disaster coming, nothing they have to deal with other than a few logistical issues, and then--
Then, the rest of their lives. And he's here.
"What?" she asks, nudging him, and he smiles.
"I can't believe you were all down here, and we've been missing out. Seven and a half years."
"You just missed two and a half with everybody else."
"Yeah, that makes me feel so much better." He wets his lips. "So, uh--tell me how we're doing. Everyone's a nightblood, what else?'
She fills him in on the status of the Eden settlement, how everyone is working together, the existence of the new prison ship. Her voice falters when she talks about them coming down, remembering the heartbreak of it, but he squeezes her hand, this sharp, warm reminder that he's here now.
"You're officially dead, by the way," she tells him.
He looks amused. "How officially?"
"We had a memorial service at 2500 days after Praimfaya. For closure, I guess. My mom was worried."
"About us?"
"About me. I was still--I was still trying to reach you. I radioed every morning."
"Yeah? Starting when?"
"I tried every day, right from the start. It was pretty bad, but I wanted to let you guys know I was alive. I wasn't coherent for a while."
He rubs his face. "Fuck. That explains it."
"Explains what?"
"ALIE disabled the communications grid. We didn't know when, but--"
"If I sounded like I was dying she probably assumed the Earth was unlivable."
"Yeah." He quirks a smile. "AIs, always jumping to conclusions. Fuck, I'm so sorry. We had so many other repairs to do, we never bothered fixing the comms. They weren't a priority."
"It's okay. Getting down here was more important."
"Yeah. Was it at least a nice funeral?" he asks.
Her laugh is a little shaky, and he wraps his arm around her. "It was. Miller gave a speech and everything."
"I knew he missed me."
"We all missed you," she says.
He squeezes her shoulders. "We missed you too."
*
Abby insists on doing the nightblood treatment for everyone immediately, that evening.
"We don't know how much of what we eat would cause complications," she says, not unreasonably. "They didn't survive seven years in space just to come back and die from eating irradiated meat."
"Can't argue with that," says Raven. "Give us the magic blood. I'm pumped."
Echo and Emori need a little more convincing, as the other grounders had, but Octavia, Indra, and a few of the Azgeda explain why it's acceptable from a religious perspective, and by dinner time, it's done.
Clarke eats her meal sitting by with Bellamy in the clinic, talking through logistics, like the old days. The procedure usually goes smoothly, but they like to monitor overnight, and it's not as if they have anywhere else to live yet.
"How many cabins are you guys going to need?" she asks.
He frowns. He looks a little pale and nauseous, but that's to be expected. None of them are having an exceptionally bad reaction, and Abby said their other vitals were good. "How many cabins?"
"Is anyone sharing, or do you want seven?"
"We can share if we need to." He pauses. "Fuck, I don't know what we're doing. Murphy and Emori will want to share. I don't know. We've been together so long, having my own place sounds kind of weird. Not that we were sharing rooms on the Ark, but--"
"You want to be close to them."
"Not just them." He smiles a little. "If you guys have some big house where I could be no more than twenty feet from all of them, you, O, Miller, and Madi, that would be great."
"Octavia's got a big place. I bet she has somewhere you could sleep. Maybe even all seven of you."
"How far is that from you and Miller?"
"Miller and I are in Skaikru housing, Octavia's in Trikru."
"Glad we haven't moved past that," he grumbles, and she smiles.
"It's mostly logistical. People tend to want to be close to their family and friends. It's not like it's harshly enforced, just--easier. You can live wherever you want, but people tend to choose to live with their own clans."
"We'll figure out where we want to go and let you know in the morning." He offers her a small smile. "You don't have to stay here all night, by the way. Where's Madi?"
"She has friends. She likes spending time with them."
"I guess she would. I can't believe we missed so much."
She reaches over to squeeze his hand, only feeling a little awkward about it. "You'll catch up. Do you want me to leave?" she can't help adding. He's right, she doesn't have to stay here. But she's not ready to leave yet. She can see all of them from where she's sitting, and she doesn't want to give that up. There's a part of her that's still sure that if she goes, they'll disappear again.
"No. But if you want to, you can."
"I don't. You want to hear more about the city?"
His smile is warm and fond, and it feels as if her chest must be glowing, like everyone can see exactly how happy she is. "Yeah. I really do."
*
It doesn't say good things about her that she'd forgotten all about Toren until he finds her the next morning. It's the first time she's been alone since the ship came down, and she's sure he knew that. Octavia is showing Bellamy and the others their temporary quarters, Madi is in school, and Clarke is dealing with her real responsibilities, albeit not very well. Her mind keeps straying back to her friends.
Toren knocks on her office door after half an hour of that, and the guilt is immediate.
"Hi. Did we have--something?" she asks, scrambling to remember. It could be a date or a meeting, and she has no idea. Not everything left her brain in the last twenty-four hours, but it's been hard to keep her thoughts straight.
"No, we didn't. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
She rubs her face. "Yeah, of course. Sorry, it's been--"
"You don't have to apologize. Your friends came back from the dead. I'd be distracted too. But--"
"I should have found you."
"I think you would have found me, if you--" He pauses, looking her over, and Clarke realizes what's coming in a flash of insight. All she really feels is relief, which immediately turns into guilt. It's not supposed to be this way.
Which is, admittedly, a good argument for ending it.
"You're breaking up with me," she says.
"I don't know if it's serious enough to call it a breakup. But I think this isn't a good arrangement. I'd like to be friends, but--whatever else we're doing, it's not a good fit."
"No." She can't help a wry smile. "I tried to warn you."
"You didn't do anything wrong," he says. "You were honest. But--I don't think I've ever seen you so happy as when you walked in that gate. It's not a criticism," he adds, quick. "I'm not upset about it. It was just striking, how different you were. I thought you should know."
"Trust me, I know." She lets out a soft laugh. "I can't believe they're alive."
"I'm happy for you. And looking forward to meeting them."
"Yeah, I'll introduce you sometime. Sorry about--"
"Nothing to apologize for. I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Later."
It's the easiest breakup she's had since the Ark, and it's probably because it's not really much of a breakup. They tried something, and it didn't work out. No one died, no one got hurt, there was no great betrayal. Just the revelation that Clarke couldn't be what Toren wanted, and vice versa. An experiment that failed.
It is a relief, too. It's nice to feel better after the end of relationship, instead of worse.
"Me and Toren broke up," she tells Madi that night, to get it out of the way, and Madi just gives her an unimpressed look.
"Duh."
*
At the end of the week, they have a party. They go all-out for it, even though the number of people directly affected by the return of the seven kids from the Ark is relatively small. Even within Skaikru and Azgeda, plenty of people didn't know any of them very well, and Emori never had a place anywhere.
Which means it's all the more important to make sure that they know they're welcome now. Besides, everyone participated in the memorial service, so they might as well celebrate that it was unnecessary, too. It's only fair.
Besides, they're starting to figure out where they fit in the society, getting to know people. Raven and Monty have the easiest time of it, of course, Raven slotting into the tech team and Monty the agriculture without having to think about it. Murphy has a knack for cooking he discovered in space that gets him work in the kitchen, and once Emori's convinced that no one's going to banish her, she and Echo join the gatherers, helping to find what tech and supplies they can outside of the green land.
She's worried that's where Bellamy will go too, but to her relief, he opts to join Miller, working in construction, except when he has meetings and other obligations. He replaces Abby as the other Skaikru representative without ceremony or objection, Clarke assumes because everyone would rather have her mother working full time in the clinic.
So by the time the party comes around, they've settled in enough to have new friends and well-wishers. They prepare more food than usual, Monty helps out with the alcohol, Raven helps out with the music, and it feels like the kind of celebration they had when they first came to the ground. For the first time in a long time, Clarke is just happy to be alive, to be here, to have survived everything she did without complications.
If they hadn't survived in the Ark, she probably would have felt this way again, someday. But she doesn't know how long it would have taken. It's easier, without that uncertainty gnawing at her stomach.
It's easier to be happy with them here.
"Hey, kid, you know what we've been neglecting?"
Madi looks up at Miller, wary. He and Monty are looking tipsy but not drunk, grinning like they're sharing a secret. She's not the only one who's doing better, these days.
"Definitely not drinking," Madi says. "You're totally doing that."
Miller rolls his eyes. "Such a brat. Monty's got cards, and you don't know how to play poker, which makes me a shitty godfather. So come on."
She glances at Clarke. "Just me?"
"Clarke already knows how to play poker," says Monty. "She'll be fine."
"Thanks," she says, dry, and she's half-expecting Madi to object further, but apparently her daughter is a traitor.
"I guess that's true. Bye, Clarke!"
"Love you too."
Miller lingers as Monty leads her away. "Just saying, you can enjoy yourself now. We'll keep her until tomorrow morning."
"You know I broke up with Toren, right? You're not getting me laid."
"I know," he says. "You can have fun anyway. Get a drink. Hang out. Enjoy yourself. That goes double for you," he adds, and Clarke startles, looks behind her to see Bellamy there.
No wonder Madi left so easily.
"I'm having fun." He sits down next to Clarke and offers her a cup. "I've even got drinks."
"I'm proud of you."
"Shut up. Go flirt with Monty."
"That's the plan. It'll be appropriate for Madi," he adds to Clarke, with a salute. "Don't worry."
She takes a sip of the moonshine, which does taste better than usual. Monty has a gift. "He is flirting? I wasn't sure."
"Early stages, but yeah. It's good," he adds, unnecessarily. Clarke already approves. "Monty hasn't had anyone in a while."
"Unlike the rest of you, who had such active love lives."
"We tried, off and on."
"ALIE matchmaking?"
"Among other things. We were up there for a while, things happened. But yeah, we had better stuff to worry about than our love lives." He looks down at his cup, drumming his fingers against it. "Which reminds me, when do I get to meet your boyfriend?"
Clarke blinks, taken by surprise. "My what?"
"Toren?" he offers, clearly not sure. "One of the Azgeda representatives asked if--" He clearly changes his mind about what he was going to say, taking a long drink before he settles on, "If I'd met him yet."
"What did he really ask?"
She doesn't have to push hard, which is nice. "He asked if I'd met the Sankru representative, and when I said I hadn't he asked if it was on purpose." He shrugs. "I would have thought I'd warrant an introduction."
She worries her lip. "He's not my boyfriend. We broke up the day after you came down."
"Coincidence?" he asks, after a long pause. It should maybe be strange, how much she doesn't mind sitting in silence with Bellamy, but she is sitting in silence with him."
"Not really. It wasn't serious to begin with. And he said--he'd never seen me really happy before. Not until he saw me with--" It's so tempting to not say it, but not nearly as tempting as it is to be honest. "You."
His voice is flat. "That sucks."
"Sorry, you don't want to make me happy?" she teases, but he doesn't take the bait.
"I wasn't miserable for seven years, okay? I don't like thinking that you were."
"I wasn't. It got a lot harder, after everyone came out of the bunker, and we started making--a new life." It's her turn to duck her head, looking down at her cup. "The five years with Madi, that didn't feel real. It was surviving. But then we were building a city, figuring out what to do, and--" She bites her lip. "I never thought I'd have something that without you."
It's always been true, but she never said it before. It's not as if she didn't want to move on. But her visions of the future had always included Bellamy at her side, and it was so hard to readjust. It was so hard to give up on that dream, even when she knew she should have.
But here he is, after all.
"I never thought I'd have something like this with you either," he points out, just as soft.
"I guess not."
He finishes his drink and puts it aside. "Yeah. So--do you want to dance?"
The laugh bubbles out of her, giddy and surprised and delighted, all at once. "Dance? You dance?"
"I could dance. It's romantic, right?" he adds. "It's a gesture. So--"
She slides her hand up around his neck and into his hair, pulling him down to her. His mouth is warm and already a little open, and she can taste the moonshine in his breath, feel the scrape of his stubble, and in a way it's not that different from kissing Toren or Finn or any other boy she's ever kissed, except that she's kissing Bellamy.
He makes a soft noise, pressing back, and the rest of the world falls away as he takes control, deepening the kiss, tangling his fingers in her hair and licking the taste of alcohol from her mouth.
At least she knows Madi won't be disappointed.
"We really don't need to dance," she says, and he laughs, pressing his forehead against hers, beaming like she's never seen before.
"Good. I didn't really want to."
*
They're late to breakfast the next morning, less because they sleep in and more because they get distracted once they're awake. Bellamy notes that he likes her bed a lot more than the one he's been sleeping in, asks if there's room for him there on a more permanent babis, and Clarke doesn't manage to say yes for another half an hour, although she thinks it was very heavily implied.
After, she shows him the shower, which he also approves of, and by the time they get to the mess hall, it's almost empty.
"I can't believe you guys have meat," Bellamy says, grabbing a sausage for himself and one for her. "Fuck, I missed meat."
"I can't believe Clarke has a hickey," Murphy says, smug behind the counter. "Wait, no, the other one. Can't believe it took this long for Clarke to get a hickey. What were you doing, Blake, being a gentleman?"
"Shut up," Bellamy says, without heat. "Are there any more eggs?"
There are plenty of free tables, of course, but she elbows Bellamy as they survey the room.
"You want to meet my ex?" she asks, raising her chin in Toren's direction.
"I don't know, he's hot. Should I be jealous?"
"You should never be jealous, Bellamy. No one else comes close."
"Then yeah, cool. I'd love to meet your ex."
Happily ever after, she thinks, leading him over to the table. The end of the story, but not the end. Resolution, and an a future that looks bright.
"Hey, can we sit with you?" she asks, and Toren smiles.
"By all means. I've been wanting to meet you."
"Same," says Bellamy, with a smile, and it's a nice feeling, watching them. A good ending and a better start.
Clarke can live with that.