Chapter Text
DAY 99
When he opens his eyes it's to Clarke's messy hair in his face, her forehead almost-not-quite touching his, their bodies curved in parentheses around the baby. He rubs his lips over her head, murmuring, "Morning, I'm heading to the rover, okay?"
"Mmhmm." She doesn't wake fully, but as he rolls off the bed she lolls her hand over Madi's sleeping form and wraps herself a little closer around her, her face leaning close to breathe in her scent.
He stretches in the clear morning air. The trees singing with colours, ribbons and flags and little woven circles all around him. He doesn't think he's ever seen such a beautiful village.
He gathers more wood for the fire, filling the pot with water and setting it into the edges of the flames, making sure Clarke's mug and the jar of tea leaves were there, before grabbing his rifle (just in case), the ropes, and heading out of the clearing.
It takes him most of the morning before he reaches the rover, walking with soft steps, eyes sharp and darting into each shadow. He doesn't find any tracks, but decides to set traps on his return. He tries not to think about what would happen if they didn't find an animal for milk, rubs his hand over his face, bites his lips. It wasn't an option, Clarke had said. They had to keep the baby alive.
He sits in the rover, rests his arms on the familiar steering wheel. He's still spinning in what ifs. What if they'd taken a day longer to get to the village, what if the elderly woman had died a day sooner. What if they couldn't, despite what Clarke said, feed the baby. What if she got sick, or he did, or Clarke. His breath ghosts out of him, the endless uncontrollable possibilities screaming in his head. There was no one else. No one to come and help them, or give them advice, or take the weighty responsibility that he knew so well from their shoulders. But his gut lurches with No. They can't have her. And it surprises him.
Sitting back in the driver's seat, he realises that even if they weren't the last, he wouldn't want Madi to be cared for by someone else now. They found her, against all odds, she cried out for them. Perhaps the universe, burned out with the destruction of the world, was taking a break from shitting on him. Whatever it was that led to him finding her, taking her into his arms, he wasn't letting her go.
He starts the engine. He'd been gone long enough.
***
Clarke leaves the hut, Madi in her arms, to find water bubbling by the fire.
"What shall we do today, huh?"
Madi gurgles at her, wraps her fingers into her hair, as Clarke sips at the sweet-earthy tea.
She wanders the outskirts of the village, being sure to keep away from the northern point where the bodies lay, instead exploring the livestock pens. Sheep, she thinks, collecting small tufts of wool from the fences.
A hut for spinning wool into yarn. The looms fascinate her, strands criss-crossing into coloured cloths. The dyeing room a haze of powders. She wishes she could have been here to see them all alive, these people that lived with stained-bright fingers and draped colours in the leaves.
In the apothecary she finds old books, inked words dancing across yellowed pages, illustrations for leaves, flowers, seeds. She settles herself by the fire with Madi in her lap, and reads to her, lilting her voice like a story, not understanding half of what she was saying due to her basic Trigedasleng. Madi didn't seem to mind though.
An odd ache starts up in her tummy. She ignores it at first, comfortable with the book and the baby in the sunshine, but it twinges through her enough to really hurt. Maybe it's the berries, she thinks. She'd eaten them by the handful that morning. Or the stew from last night. The meat rancid, even though it had been cured and smelled just fine when she'd cut into it. Her thigh cramps. She feels sick.
So she settles Madi into the grass on a blanket, and heads to the wash hut, feeling uncomfortably warm and slick between her legs.
When she sees the blood she thinks wildly that she's dying. Her eyes cloud, breath racing in and out, shocked shivers through her spine. It takes her several minutes to realise.
***
Bellamy returns sooner than she expects. She's still scrubbing at her clothes in the wash tub when he pulls the rover to a halt between the outer huts.
"Still nothing." He's glaring at the trees. "Damn sheep. There's wool everywhere, caught on twigs and brambles, but no sign of them, or even any decent tracks and I... Clarke? You okay?" The colour of the water registers suddenly. Black blood. Ruined hands, flesh and bone.
"I'm fine." Her cheeks feel hot.
"What happened? Is Madi-?" He hurries over to her, glancing around for the baby.
"She's fine, stop panicking, I just, it's nothing." She scrubs harder at her trousers with the soap. Doesn't look up. "I got my period."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
She keeps her eyes lowered as he sits back on his heels, stands, and walks away, sure she's embarrassed the hell out of both of them.
She hears him check on Madi, snoozing in a cocoon of cushions, and then he's gone from the clearing.
Periods were something else rarely encountered on the Ark. Even with her medical apprenticeship. The law stated that an implant be fitted as soon as the first period occured. It was only removed for conception, and a new one was fitted soon after the baby was born. They were to be replaced every five years. Hers should still be working, stopping her body from being fertile, from menstruating.
Her stomach cramps again, she hisses air in through her teeth. The sock she'd shoved in her underwear feels rough against her.
She keeps scrubbing, trying to breathe through the nausea, her eyes clamped shut.
Bellamy's warm hand on her shoulder startles her.
"Here." He's holding out strips of the soft cloth they'd ripped up for bandages. "Go sort yourself out. I'll take over."
And then suddenly he's on his knees, his hands in the blackish water, taking her clothes from her.
"Erm..."
He almost laughs at her expression. "Clarke. My sister never had an implant. How many times do you think I had to sneak into the laundry and wash her stuff? This," he holds up her trousers, "isn't going to weird me out. Besides, it's a lot less gross than Madi's diaper cloths."
He nudges her away with his shoulder, and starts scrubbing the cloth together in circles, not just rubbing soap into the stain like she'd been doing.
"Um. Okay?"
He does laugh then. "Go. I've got this."
***
That night she lies back in the enormous tin bath, her first warm bath ever, she realises. It had taken Bellamy a long while to heat the water and fill it for her. The fire sparks into the stars. Bellamy's low voice hums to Madi in his arms, leaning back against the warm metal of the bath.
"Thank you," she says.
"Hm?"
"Thank you, you know, for today, for this." She gestures in the water, splashing it around her wrist.
"Sure. So long as you do the same for me when I get my period."
She can't see his face, but she knows his eyes are crinkled, smiling wide.
"You idiot," she laughs, splashing him.
Madi cries out.
"Shit, sorry." She watches as he stands, keeping his gaze carefully on the trees and bounces Madi. She cries louder.
And then the prickling in her chest starts. It swells with Madi's cry. Her arms feel empty all of a sudden. She's overcome with an urge to hold the baby to her skin, to breathe in her scent, rub her lips over her soft cheeks in little kisses.
"Bell? Here, give her to me." She sits up in the bathtub, holding out her arms, desperate to feel Madi's weight against her.
He turns, tries not to look (he can't really see anything anyway) and meets her urgent eyes.
"Um, okay?"
So he passes the screaming baby into her arms, and she settles back into the warm water, Madi half submerged, her wails against Clarke's chest. It takes a moment, but then she finds Clarke's aching breast, and suckles. Clarke bursts into tears. "Oh! Look!"
Bellamy can't help staring now. This is definitely not how he'd ever imagined seeing Clarke naked.
"You okay?" His voice is gruff. He clears his throat. Looks up into the starlit sky for a moment, before staring back down at the baby, settled and suckling. Clarke hiccups, crying and smiling and feeling so much she can't make sense of it.
"Yes. We're okay. We're okay. We're going to be okay."