#pepperf

“It will heal,” she dismissed his concern as she slipped back from his remorseful hand.

 “Will it?”  His voice was soft and full of the pain that only this freedom could provide.  He was grateful when she did not pretend to misunderstand his question.  Grateful when she gave him an honest answer, even as it tore at the tattered remains of his soul.

“I don’t know.”  There was no dismissal in her tone now, just a painful uncertainty that covered an endless ache in both of them.  “I hope so.”

And that was the fundamental difference between them.  She still possessed hope.  Had always possessed it, in such great measure that he could not help being dragged out of his melancholy existence to warm himself in its happy glow.  She had always been the optimist, the one who was certain events would work to her advantage simply because she willed them so. Strengthened by the fact that they so often did.

 I’m just going to jump off this cliff and hope I sprout wings.

 James had always known her so well.

 But lately, her will had not been strong enough to prevent the terrible tragedies she had endured.  There had been no wings this past year.  No flight to safety for James. Her father.  Her Sanctuaries.  Ashley.

 Ashley had done what even he himself had never truly accomplished.  He had diminished Helen Magnus’s hope.  Her faith in herself and her ability to not only survive, but to thrive in an ever-changing world.  She who could entice others to bend, and sometimes break, with nothing more than the sheer force of her personality, could not save that which was most precious to her.  First Gregory, then John himself, and now Ashley.  Father and lover and daughter, all lost and found and lost again.  

 Because he had already accepted what she had not even begun to contemplate.  He had no idea how to destroy the entity inhabiting the walls of her <I>their</I> her home.  Neither did she, nor any of her staff he was certain.  Despite their combined gifts, they did not understand the creature well enough yet.  But he did. And he knew that for all the power it possessed now, loosed inside the cavernous walls and extensive wiring of the Sanctuary, it would never be content in its current state.  Oh, it would enjoy the killing and the destruction it would cause, but it was not enough.  The creature craved the sensations that only habitation inside a human body could provide.  Wreaking havoc through elevators and labs, doors and walls and circuitry, was nowhere near as satisfying as the warmth of blood spreading across flesh.  The intoxicating scent of fear, the rush that came in the moment it looked into its prey’s eyes and saw the flash of understanding that death was here and it was inevitable.  Mass destruction would appease it, but only the intimacy of flesh upon flesh, the engagement of all senses available inside the human form would quench its terrible thirst.  It entered the Sanctuary out of necessity.  It would re-enter John out of unshakeable desire.

 “John.”  Helen’s soft voice was echoed by the softer hand that ghosted across his cheek.  He allowed himself a moment more to stare at it, the contrast of hope and hatred played out on the silk of bra and bare skin.  A moment to wish things were different, that he might have the chance to find out if Helen’s fragile hope would prevail.  A moment to absorb the pain that came from the knowledge that there was a better than average chance that it would.  Not that they would ever be what they once were; even if Helen reached a point somewhere down the long line of years ahead where she could bear his touch in more than these passing moments, he would never taint her with the sins he carried within the very marrow of his being.  It did not matter that he had not wanted to become what he did; it only mattered that he had not been able to stop it.  To fight harder, to be stronger.

*

It takes them six years and two months to make it back to the ground, and Octavia is the first person he sees, bright and defiant, so perfect he feels like his chest might break itself open.

“O,” he says, voice breaking on it, and he staggers to her, crushing her to his chest.

“I didn’t live underground for six years just for you to hug me to death, Bell!” she protests, but she’s laughing, clinging back to him. “We thought you guys didn’t make it.”

“I thought we might not,” he admits. He lets her go and looks her over again, grin almost splitting his face. “What were you doing underground for six years? The radiation cleared out after a year. Don’t tell me it was so great down there you didn’t want to leave.”

“You’re one to talk. And we were buried! We couldn’t get out until Clarke got the miners to clear the door.”

Some distant part of his brain registers the change in her expression, the moment when she realizes he didn’t know, but most of his body is frozen, shock and dread and uncertainty churning through him.

“Clarke,” he manages. His throat feels like it’s going to crack open.

“Yeah. She’s alive, Bell. I don’t know what Nightblood is, but it’s really something.”

He looks over his shoulder, finding Raven, and she’s looking back at him, expression unreadable. “Yeah,” he says, not looking away from her. “It must be.”

*

He’s the one to fall into step with Raven as they head to the new settlement, the one to take her hand. She looks back at him, eyes closed off, and he understands why. It’s not what happened with Finn, but it must feel related to her. If Clarke was alive, this might never have happened, the two of them.

But it did. It still is.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” she says, like there isn’t tension all through her shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he says, and she at least cracks a smile.

But it doesn’t last. She lets out a breath, uneven and harsh, like she’s trying to keep control. “We don’t have to do this. If you’re done, you can just tell me. I get that–”

“Raven,” he says.

“Don’t tell me you don’t care,” she snaps, and he tugs her aside, away from the group.

“Of course I care. You do too. But it’s not–I love you. You’ve never been a replacement. And I can’t pretend I’m not–” He smiles. “I have no idea how I feel right now, but I’m not planning on losing you. It’s not like that.”

She rubs her face, looking wrecked. “Fuck. It’s not like I’m not happy. Of course I’m fucking happy. But I’m done with–if you want to be with her, you need to tell me.”

“I don’t.”

“If you ever do.” She wets her lips, manages a smile. “There were only eight of us in the entire fucking world. We’ve got more options now.”

“So, what, you want to dump me? You can just tell me if you do.” She glares, and he leans down to kiss her. “I love you,” he says again. “And I’ll tell you how I’m doing with everything else.”

“So how are you doing?” she asks, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t even know. I’m not going to believe it until I see her. I can’t believe she–”

“Yeah,” Raven agrees. “I thought we lost her too.”

“But we didn’t.”

“No. We didn’t.”

*

Of course, Clarke isn’t at the settlement when they get there, still out hunting with some of the crew from the other ship that came down.

Octavia frowns when she hears. “I thought she’d come back when she saw the ship, but maybe she didn’t want to get her hopes up again. They’ll be back before dark.”

It doesn’t really help. They keep busy, of course–there are logistics and reunions and introductions to deal with–but the knowledge of Clarke is in the back of his mind, a loose thread he can’t forget about. She’s here, she’s alive, she’s not even that far, he could find her if–

“Are you Bellamy?”

He jumps, looks down at the girl. She’s probably about ten or eleven, small and pale, frowning at him like she doesn’t quite trust him. Which makes sense; he doesn’t trust her either.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’m Madi. Clarke told me about you.” She looks behind him. “And that’s Raven.”

“Yeah. How do you know Clarke?”

“She found me. After the fire. She told me nightbloods have to stick together.”

He finds himself smiling a little. “And you guys did, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you guys had each other.” He pauses, but Echo went off with some of the Azgeda, Miller took Monty and Harper to check out the dining hall, and Murphy and Emori are self-sufficient. Plus, this is someone who matters to Clarke, which means she’s going to matter to them too. “You think you could show us around?”

Her eyes flick to their linked hands with something like distrust, but it’s just for a second. “Sure!” she says. “Clarke’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Raven smiles. “We’re going to be happy to see her too.”

*

Through Madi, they get a lot of Clarke’s story before she ever makes it back, and the more they hear, the worse Bellamy feels. It was bad enough, thinking he’d let Clarke die, but it had never occurred to him that she’d be down here almost entirely alone, waiting for for five years, anticipating the day when they finally came down.

They’re over a year late; she must have given up hope. It’s not his fault, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel bad about it.

They’re sitting in the mess hall, letting Madi tell them about the settlement, when a horn blows, and she perks up. “That’s them! They’re coming back. Come on, I want to see her face when she sees you.”

He and Raven exchange a look, and she leans in to ask, “You okay?”

“Still can’t believe it.”

“I know.”

The rover rolls in and an unfamiliar man gets out of the passenger seat first, and then a woman, and then there she is. Clarke, her hair shorter, a patch of red in it, but unmistakable. Alive and even smiling, trading barbs with one of the strangers.

And he’s frozen again. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Clarke!” says Madi, waving, and he knows the exact second she sees them. Reactions crash over her face–shock, disbelief, confusion, hope–almost too fast to see, and then she’s smiling like the sun and in his arms, and he’s holding her as tightly as he held Octavia, breathing her in, feeling the beating of her heart against his chest.

“It’s you,” she says, and he finds himself laughing.

“It’s me.”

*

“So, you and Raven.”

They lit a bonfire to celebrate, and Raven’s helping Monty set up some complicated drinking game, leaving Bellamy alone with Clarke. He doesn’t feel guilty about it exactly, just–torn. He wants to reassure Raven and stay with Clarke at the same time, and it seems impossible.

“Me and Raven,” he agrees.

“I’m happy for you,” she offers. “I’m glad you guys have each other.”

“You have us too,” he says, before he’s actually thought about it. But it’s still true. “We missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She bites her lip. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“It’s not a competition, Bellamy,” she says, and he surprises himself with a laugh.

“So you’re saying I’d win.”

She puts her head on his shoulder. “I think it’s a tie.”

He’s torn between feeling he should shake her off and wanting to pull her closer. Every time she’s out of his reach, he feels sure she’ll disappear, that she’ll turn out to be a dream. Having her touching him is the best, unmistakable and warm and real.

Raven comes and, to his surprise, takes the spot next to Clarke, and not him, and Clarke reaches over and takes her hand.

Maybe they don’t seem real to each other either.

“Not drinking?” Clarke asks.

“Nah. I’d rather be with you guys.”

Bellamy reaches behind Clarke so he can put his hand on her back, and for the moment, his life is perfect.

It even feels like it could last.

*

“Gina and I talked about this,” Raven tells him, a week later.

He blinks. It’s evening, and they’re in their room, curled together on the bed. He’d been reading, but Raven sounds like they’re in the middle of a long conversation.

“Talked about what?”

“I really like him, but what happens when Clarke comes home,” she says, pitching her voice high, but she doesn’t sound upset. Amused, maybe. “In case you were wondering, you’ve always been obvious.”

He swallows. “It wasn’t like that,” he says, but he remembers her, when ALIE was inside her, telling him he was never so devoted to Gina. It might be true, but it might not be, too. He never needed to be devoted to Gina. “It’s not like that with you.”

“I know. I’m still worried about her.”

“This conversation would be a lot easier for me if you just told me what you want. I can’t tell you I don’t love her,” he says. “She’s–you know I do. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Or that I’m going to–”

She kisses him. “That’s not what I’m saying. I didn’t even know how much I missed her, you know that? I was so busy worrying about you, I never even though about how I was feeling. But it’s so fucking good to see her. And I know how much she missed us. So–maybe it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Raven, seriously, I need you to–”

“What if it’s not about you having me or her? What if it’s just all of us, having each other?”

His breath catches, the thought sweet and sharp all at once, impossible in its perfection. He’s never had the kind of life that works out so neatly. He couldn’t.

“Like this, but Clarke’s in the bed?” he asks.

“Me getting between the two of you, right?” She looks away. “You don’t have to say yes. But–I started thinking about it, and I can’t stop. It seems so easy.”

“You don’t have to–I don’t need this,” he says. “I don’t need anyone but you.”

“That’s bullshit,” she says, without heat. “But I think we all need each other. I wouldn’t just do this for you, don’t worry. We’re not the only eight people in the world anymore. We could take advantage of it.”

“Do you think she wants to?”

Raven snorts, kisses his collarbone. “I think we just need to ask.”

*

He makes her wait another week, or rather, tells her he needs time, which she seems to accept. It’s his whole life, it feels like, or so much of it. The two women who matter most to him, aside from his sister, and there’s Madi to think of too, this little girl he and Raven already think of as theirs too.

This is his family, and once he realizes that, he doesn’t have another choice.

“You’re sure?” he asks Raven, one last time. “We don’t have to—“

“I was in the shower with her yesterday and I couldn’t stop checking her out. Trust me, this isn’t for you. If I thought I had to do this to keep you, I’d dump you.” He frowns, and she kisses him. “If I’m not enough for you, the answer isn’t adding someone else. But if she finds someone else—“

It hadn’t even occurred to him, somehow, and it feels like a piece of his flesh being ripped out, this sudden, sharp flash of pain and anger.

It makes Raven laugh. “Yeah. She’s ours.”

And that was all he needed.

“You have any idea what to say?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” She flashes him a smile. “Don’t worry. We’re going to be fine.”

*

Raven takes advantage of Madi asking Bellamy for axe-throwing lessons to talk to Clarke, which is bad only because the last time Bellamy wants to be distracted is when he’s hurling a sharp object around with a child. But it’s probably good he has to concentrate extra hard. It means he doesn’t have much brain power left.

It hasn’t even been that long when Clarke shows up at Madi’s back, flashing Bellamy a quick smile before she watches Madi’s throw.

“Getting better, huh?”

“I hit the bullseye on the last one.”

“She did,” Bellamy confirms. He sounds very normal. Totally calm.

“Awesome. I need to talk to Bellamy and Raven about something,” Clarke tells Madi. “Can you go help my mom at the clinic?”

“When are you going to be done?”

“We’ll meet you at dinner. You don’t have to hang out at the clinic the whole time. But I’m going to be busy.”

“Okay,” says Madi, easy. “Thanks for the lesson, Bellamy!”

“Sure.”

They stand in awkward silence for a minute, until Madi’s gone, and then he clears his throat, makes himself ask, “So, what did you and Raven talk about?”

Clarke smiles. “How much we like you.”

“And each other, right? Not just—“

She starts to laugh. “This is exactly what we were talking about, yeah. And how much we like each other.” She bites her lip. “Don’t worry, I was jealous of your entire relationship. I want all of it.”

“So talking to Raven was a euphemism,” he says. His mouth is starting to twitch into a smile, and once he starts he’s not sure he’ll ever stop.

“I figure we’ll talk too.” She bites her lip. “I already made out with her, so she said I should make sure I made out with you too.”

“You’re going to have plenty of chances, right?”

“Sorry, do you not want to make out right now?” she teases, and he lets himself cup her jaw, lean in and kiss her, and it’s so close to perfect.

When she pulls back, she says, “Okay, we should go see Raven,” and that’s what’s missing, of course. It’s not just him and Clarke. That’s not enough.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

Raven’s on their bed when they get there, and Bellamy settles in on one side of her, and Clarke takes the other, and that’s it.