Chapter Text
Day 105
Bellamy had almost kissed Clarke. They had been inches away before Murphy had burst in on them, Raven hot on his heels. Bellamy had been able to feel Clarke’s breath on his lips. It had been about to happen.
That had happened on Sunday and it was now Tuesday. It had been two days, and Bellamy could think of nothing else.
So close.
So close!
It had been building since the day she warned him the air outside the dropship could be toxic and now it felt inevitable.
Except that… he couldn’t figure out how to get back to it.
On Roan’s birthday, they had almost kissed. He was 99% positive. He was definitely going for it, and it seemed like she was too. But then they got so busy with the birthday planning and they were all exhausted at the end of the day that they had just collapsed into bed.
The next day, Monday, Bellamy had rolled over, looked at Clarke with her perfect little smile as she slept soundly on her pillow, her perfect hair that seemed to fan out around her, and the perfect skin of her perfect shoulder peeking out from under the blankets, and he had panicked.
He shot out of bed and bee-lined for the shower (he took a cold one). Afterwards, he dressed quickly and headed out to the common room. He spied Echo sitting on the couch, playing with some cube-shaped puzzle covered in little colored squares Murphy had discovered the week before.
“Want to train?” he had asked, breathless and desperate for a distraction.
“You look a little dazed there, Blake,” Echo replied with a smirk. She never missed anything, damn her.
“Just want to train,” Bellamy shot back.
Echo rolled her eyes, but set the puzzle down and went with him to the gym.
Bellamy trained all morning, working with Echo on hand-to-hand combat. He joined everyone for lunch, but accidentally found himself staring at Clarke’s lips as she ate her salad, and gobbled his food down as quickly as he could before volunteering to join the afternoon training session, which Echo had planned to offer for Harper and Murphy.
He didn’t know why he was being such an idiot about this or where the confident, assertive Bellamy had disappeared to. Clarke just had this light…
“Weren’t you in here all morning?” Harper asked when they were assembled in the gym.
“Yeah, but it’s not like there’s anything else to do,” Bellamy told them, getting in his stance.
“Methinks he’s avoiding someone,” Murphy smirked before tossing a fist at Harper, who easily dodged it and then used her leg to knock Murphy to the floor.
“Thanks, Harper,” Bellamy said.
“Oh, that wasn’t for you – we all know you’re avoiding Clarke.”
“The real question is why,” Echo asked. Bellamy stumbled through an answer and Echo took advantage of his distracted state to land three blows before he successfully blocked the fourth.
“I’m not avoiding anyone!” Bellamy shouted at them.
“Yeah, guys,” Murphy added, “he’s just really concerned about training to face that unknown enemy we have zero chance of encountering for at least five years.”
Harper snickered and Bellamy lunged at Murphy, managing to land one punch before Murphy successfully fought back.
“Did something finally happen with Clarke?” Harper asked, helping Bellamy to his feet.
“No,” Bellamy replied in a tone of frustration he couldn’t hide.
“Ooooo that means something almost happened,” Murphy interjected and Echo nodded with a knowing smile.
“Nothing,” Bellamy started, swinging his right fist at Echo, who dodged it easily. “Happened,” he continued, pulling his arm back and tightening his stance. “And it’s really none of your,” he added, lunging at Echo. She effortlessly kicked her left leg under his knees, knocking him to the ground again. “Business,” Bellamy groaned from the floor while the other three openly laughed at him.
“You should really take a break,” Echo told him.
“But you’re still going and you trained all morning too,” Bellamy countered between gasps.
“Yes, but I’m also a trained Azgeda spy and you’re… what… a glorified security guard?”
“If I had my gun…” Bellamy started, but Echo just rolled her eyes.
“You need to diversify your tactics, Blake. Any fool can point a weapon at someone. It takes a true warrior to use their body as that weapon.”
Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her and tried to stand up but wobbled a bit and sank to a knee, taking deep breaths.
“Ready to take a break?” Echo asked, showing a tinge of genuine sympathy now.
Bellamy heard Clarke call for Raven from the other room and even just the sound of her voice made his brain go blank. The others definitely noticed.
“Nope,” he told them, standing up and taking a firm stand before charging at Echo again (and hitting the floor again seconds later).
That night, Bellamy was so sore from his eight hours of training that he could barely walk. Echo had not gone easy on him and the others had joined in too. Roan had even stopped by for an hour, though Bellamy wasn’t sure if his main priority was training or just roasting Bellamy for avoiding Clarke.
The exercise had done its job, though, because Bellamy was now so bone-tired that he had no energy for stressing about Clarke. He also didn’t have energy for doing anything fun with Clarke or getting closer to that kiss, but that was a problem for another day.
“You really like training,” Clarke remarked that night, clearly searching for some topic of conversation after the awkwardness of the past 24 hours.
“Best part of my day,” Bellamy muttered before instantly falling asleep.
It was now Tuesday morning and Bellamy was again throwing himself into exercise at the gym. Echo had cut him off from training so now he was walking on the treadmill, passive aggressively commenting on how the others were doing with their combat session with Roan.
“Nice work, Murphy, you’ll do great if your opponent has a blindfold on.”
Murphy chucked his shoe at him, but Bellamy luckily dodged it.
“Good job, Harper – you managed to actually graze Echo’s shoulder before ending up on your ass.”
Harper did a much better job of throwing her shoe, managing to nail Bellamy right in his nether regions. He collapsed, fell backwards off the treadmill (which was luckily only at a walking pace), and slipped to the floor behind it.
“You earned that,” Roan told him dryly.
Bellamy took a moment to recover, laying on the floor and clutching his junk. He was starting to think that maybe he should just talk to Clarke.
Thirty minutes later, after a short shower and a long pep talk to himself in the mirror, Bellamy was ready to talk to Clarke. He squared his shoulders, opened the door from his room to the living room, and immediately had a mop shoved into his hands by Harper.
“Cleaning day,” she reminded him, and he cursed the fact that it was Tuesday. “You’re on gym duty, since you’ve been spending so much time there.”
She smirked at him. He flipped her off.
He took his mop to the gym, where he found Murphy and Jasper already wiping down the machines.
“Where’s Emori?” Bellamy asked. He wasn’t used to seeing Murphy without his (far, far) better half.
Murphy answered by way of a glare.
“They’re in a fight,” Jasper whispered dramatically.
“What happened?” Bellamy asked.
“Who the fuck knows,” Murphy muttered. “I’m going to get a fresh bucket of water.”
Bellamy turned to Jasper to see if he had any answers, but his lanky friend just shrugged his shoulders. “All I know is that Emori’s pissed and Murphy seems to think he did nothing wrong.”
“Sounds about right.”
Meanwhile, Clarke was cleaning the kitchen and dining room with Echo and Raven. Murphy came in to fill up his bucket at the tap.
“You could fill that just as easily in one of the bathtubs,” Raven grumbled at him.
“Yes, but then I couldn’t annoy you,” Murphy shot back with a smirk.
“Oh God, can you and Emori just make up already? I can’t handle all of this extra time with you.”
“What happened with Emori?” Clarke asked, confused.
“Murphy was an idiot,” Echo answered simply.
“Well, I figured that,” replied Clarke.
“Well, it’s been delightful catching up with you ladies,” Murphy said sarcastically, heaving his bucket of water out of the sink. “But I have a gym to get back to. I’m going to talk to Harper about making Bellamy the permanent gym cleaner. We signed up to clean our own personal spaces and he spends more time there than anywhere else – he should be the one to clean it.”
“It’s you, him, and Jasper in there,” Raven called back to his retreating form. “We all know he’ll end up doing all of the work anyway.”
Murphy disappeared, but Clarke noticed that Raven and Echo seemed to be sharing some sort of secret smile.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Raven replied in a sing-song voice. “Just thinking about how much time Bellamy’s been spending at the gym lately.”
“Yes, he certainly seems very into training all of the sudden,” Clarke added, feeling slightly awkward, like she wasn’t in on the joke.
“Well, we all know why that is,” Raven added with a bright smile and an elbow toward Echo. Echo smiled back at her, as if the two shared some sort of secret.
Well, Clarke didn’t appreciate that one bit. Maybe Bellamy just wanted to train? Maybe he was sick of the tight bunker space and wanted to work out some frustration? Or maybe he just wanted to spend more time with…
More time with…
Echo.
Suddenly, the shared smiles between Echo and Raven made Clarke feel like a rock was lodged in her throat. She had wondered why Bellamy had been avoiding her the past two days, and now it made sense. She had tried to kiss him and clearly he wasn’t interested in it. And now he was trying to send her loud and clear signals that there was someone else he wanted to spend his time with.
She was such an idiot when it came to these things.
She glared at the countertop she was cleaning, swallowed that lump in her throat, and turned to the sink to rinse out her washrag.
After the morning of cleaning, the group ate lunch and sat down for their weekly House Meeting. Clarke noticed that Murphy and Emori were sitting as far apart as possible and Emori was stubbornly refusing to even look in his direction. She also noticed that Bellamy was sitting next to Echo and felt her gut twist as her suspicions grew stronger.
Harper started the meeting with a few casual reminders: no one could harvest any produce without Monty’s permission (Monty glared at Echo, who rolled her eyes); everyone had to work out in the gym each day for a full 30 minutes (Roan leaned over and flicked Murphy in the knee); cheating at board games was strongly discouraged (Jasper glared at Echo, who tried her best to hide a smug smile and who muttered “it’s only cheating if you get caught” under her breath); and Bellamy’s boring documentaries were to be played only on the laptops so he could watch them privately in shame (everyone glared at Bellamy, who muttered something like “this is bullshit” and “it was about Rome for fuck’s sake” before Jasper reached over and patted him sympathetically on the head).
There was time to ask questions and air grievances. Monty asked Clarke if she would help him sketch out labels for the growing produce, to which Clarke eagerly agreed. Roan mentioned to Raven that one of the treadmills was starting to whistle and she promised to take a look at the belt after the meeting. Jasper asked if he could know what happened between Murphy and Emori, at which point both halves of the feuding couple threw pillows at him and shouted at him to mind his own business.
“Speaking of minding our own business,” Raven said by way of transition, “can someone remind Roan that even Azgedan royalty are responsible for picking up after themselves?”
Roan narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the dirty socks casually kicked into piles in the lounge,” Raven replied.
“And the dishes left in the sink,” Monty added.
“And the way you drip water all over the floor in our room after you take a shower,” Echo threw in.
“Ok ok, fine, I’ll… work on it,” Roan spat out.
“Well, if that’s it then,” Harper announced, standing up to end the meeting.
“I have one more thing!” Jasper called, unburying himself from the pillows.
“What is it, Jasper?” Harper asked, clearly trying her best to remain patient.
“I think we should have…. a talent show!” he announced dramatically, leaping to his feet.
“A what now?” Echo asked.
“A talent show! Like in that movie we watched last week? You know, the one where everyone’s getting ready for the big talent show and the girl thinks she has no talent but then BAM she’s belting out ballads like a superstar. I think we should have one.”
“What would the purpose of this be?” Roan asked.
“To discover everyone’s talents and, you know, for fun,” Jasper answered.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Murphy said.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Emori fired back, glaring at Murphy. “I’m totally on board with this ‘talent show’ idea.” Murphy glared back at her.
“It could actually be fun,” Harper conceded, and Monty nodded along with her.
“It’s not like we have anything else to do,” Raven added.
“Is there a prize for being the most talented?” Echo asked.
Murphy rolled his eyes at her. “We get it, Miss Azgeda, you’re good at everything.”
Echo didn’t deny it.
“When would the show be? How would we organize it?” Harper asked.
“I can handle everything,” Jasper assured her confidently. “Just leave it to me. We’ll have the show in about two weeks. For now, everyone should start thinking of their acts. Then, we’ll start rehearsals.”
“Rehearsals?” Bellamy asked with a groan. “Is this mandatory?”
“Why? Do you have anything else pressing that you need to do?” Raven fired back at him, smirking. Clarke watched Bellamy’s face turn red and she again felt the prickle of not being included in whatever the rest of the bunker knew.
“I’m working on it,” Bellamy muttered back to her between gritted teeth. Echo reached over and patted him on the knee, smirking, and Clarke felt her stomach sinking even lower.
“I’ll help you organize it,” Clarke suddenly said to Jasper, standing up. “I could use something to do.”
Jasper let out a whoop of celebration and Harper ended the meeting with a smile.
The discussion of the talent show occupied the entire bunker for the rest of the day. Some brainstormed their acts; others brainstormed ways to get out of it. Bellamy tried to approach Clarke a few times, but every time he got close enough to talk to her, she seemed to dodge him and think of something else to do.
By the time they climbed into bed, Bellamy had already given up on confessing his feelings to Clarke that day and was hoping that some genius idea would come to him in his sleep instead.
He reached for the book he had started a few days earlier, hoping to hide from any awkwardness behind its thick cover and slightly musty pages.
Clarke, however, had other plans.
“So I was thinking,” she said in a strained voice, and Bellamy gulped. Here it was. He recognized that tone. That was the tone of someone who was about to let him down easy. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the disappointment.
“If you and Echo wanted to spend more time together, we could switch rooms around and I could bunk with Roan.”
Well, that was not what he was expecting her to say.
“What?” he asked, clearly confused.
“I mean, I know that you want to spend more time with her, and I was thinking today how annoying it has to be for so many others to join in the only time you two really get alone in the training room, so I thought it might make you happier if you two roomed together,” Clarke replied. She was avoiding eye contact and focusing on her hands, which were tracing patterns on their comforter.
“Why do you think I want to spend more time with Echo?” Bellamy asked, still feeling like he had stepped into some kind of bizarre dream.
“Well, I mean, I see how much time you spend with her now, and you told me yesterday that training was your favorite part of the day. And today I was talking with Raven and Echo and I could just tell there was something they weren’t telling me, and it’s stupid not to tell me because obviously I just want you both to be happy but-”
Bellamy cut her off. “I have zero interest in spending more time with Echo. I can barely find the energy to tolerate her for the small amounts of time I do spend with her. You do remember she tried to kill my sister, right? And betrayed us all in Mount Weather? I’ve been trying my best to be civil and nice to her because I knew it would mean a lot to you, but trust me when I tell you there’s no love lost between us.”
Now Clarke looked taken aback.
“But you said training was your-”
“I said that because I was exhausted and because I am an idiot. And the ironic part is that my real favorite part of the day is when you and I-”
Now Bellamy stopped talking abruptly and tried to change the subject. “So, yeah, no need to switch roommates.”
“What were you going to say, Bell? What’s your favorite part of the day?” Her expression had gone from nervous to genuinely curious.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Now Clarke was grinning and Bellamy felt his face turning red.
“Well then do you want to talk about the fact that we almost kissed two days ago?” she asked.
His face turned even redder and he stuttered through his response. “I was planning on it! I just hadn’t found the right words yet.”
Clarke perched herself on her upturned palm, her elbow resting on her pillow.
“Give me your best shot,” she told him.
“You could initiate this conversation too,” he pointed out.
“I know, but it’s so much fun torturing you into this.”
“Are you just going to roast me this whole time?”
“Probably. It’s taking the pressure off, isn’t it?” she asked. He knew in that moment that Clarke Griffin was a genius, because it was, in fact, taking the pressure off.
“Okay,” he announced, warming up. “Clarke Griffin, we’ve known each other for a while now.”
He paused and Clarke motioned with her hand for him to continue.
“That’s really as far as I got,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You are legitimately terrible at this,” she pointed out.
“Fine! You show me if you’re so much better at it.”
“Easily,” Clarke declared before leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.
He had to admit that this approach was much better than all of the ones he had planned for the last two days. It was direct, assertive, and impossible to misconstrue. And, best of all, it involved him kissing Clarke Griffin.
Speaking of which, he quickly got his act together and took charge of the kiss, reaching his hand around to weave it through her hair. He might be an idiot about some things, but he knew how to kiss and was determined to redeem himself after his earlier embarrassment. He shifted the angle of their mouths, allowing him to deepen their connection and tease her lips with his tongue. She opened eagerly and Bellamy moaned quietly at her taste.
He pulled away for a brief moment and they both caught their breath.
“Ok, point taken, your approach was much better.”
Clarke’s giggle was cut short when Bellamy pulled her in for another kiss.
They made out for nearly an hour. At times, it was heated and passionate, with hands running down their bodies and eager pants and moans. At other times, it was lazy and quiet, the intimacy keeping them in their own imaginary bubble. They fell asleep before they could take it farther or talk about what they were now, but they slept in each other’s arms, so neither really had complaints. Besides, it wasn’t like they didn’t have time.
Bellamy woke up the next morning to the feeling of Clarke in his arms and couldn’t help the giant smile that broke across his face. He traced his fingertips over Clarke’s shoulder and down her arm, pulling her more snugly against him.
She sighed sleepily and rolled over to face him, sporting a grin to rival his.
“Hi,” he said softly before leaning in to kiss her.
“Good morning,” she replied when they separated after a moment. She stretched her arms overhead and then wrapped them around Bellamy’s torso.
He kissed her again, small pecks to her lips and jawline before heading lower and attaching his mouth lightly to her neck.
“Let’s just stay in this bed all day,” Clarke suggested.
“I could get on board with that,” Bellamy agreed.
He rolled on top of her and kissed her deeply. She started caressing his arms and back with her fingertips. Bellamy moved his hand up and down her outer thigh before settling at the hem of the tank top she slept in and starting to push it up, inch by inch…
When, suddenly, the door of their room flew open.
Bellamy sprung off of Clarke, retreating to his side of the bed. Clarke pulled the comforter up to cover herself, more out of instinct than actual danger.
Murphy had thrown the door of their room open and had marched in as if he owned the place. Fortunately, he had been looking back over his shoulder, yelling at someone, when he opened the door, and by the time he had turned to face the room’s inhabitants, they had successfully managed to untangle themselves from each other.
(It was not lost on Bellamy that this was now the second time Murphy had interrupted them. He wondered what he could bribe Raven with to get her to craft some sort of lock for their door.)
“Well then, fine!” Murphy shouted at someone. “I’ll just move in with Bellamy!”
“You’ll what?” Bellamy asked, sitting up straight now.
“Move in with you,” Murphy replied, addressing the room’s occupants for the first time. “Emori and I are through and she just kicked me out, so Clarke, we’re swapping.”
Bellamy and Clarke immediately felt torn. Neither wanted to be separated (and Bellamy definitely did not want to share a room with Murphy), but if they wanted to make an argument for staying together, they’d probably have to reveal what they were to the house. And they hadn’t exactly figured out what they “were” yet either, so neither felt comfortable making the announcement.
“Um… what about switching with Raven and Jasper?” Clarke suggested, trying to find a way out of this.
“Reyes refuses to bunk with me and there’s no way I’m living in a room with Goggles and his guitar,” Murphy shot back.
“Roan and Echo?” Bellamy asked.
Murphy’s expression morphed into a smirk. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t separate you two?”
“No,” Clarke said before she realized, and she tried to avoid making eye contact with Bellamy. She felt trapped now by Murphy’s smirk and her own insecurity with labeling whatever she and Bellamy were now. “Ok, just give me a few minutes to get my stuff together.”
Murphy nodded and left the room.
Bellamy and Clarke looked at each other and groaned.
“Sorry,” Clarke told him, “I didn’t know what to say. We hadn’t-”
“Had the conversation,” Bellamy completed for her, running his hand over his face. “I know.”
They sat in silence for another minute before Clarke pulled herself out of bed.
“I better pack,” she said sullenly.
“Hey, stop for a minute,” Bellamy told her, climbing out of bed too and coming around to stand in front of her, taking her hands into his. “I know I’ve been an idiot about this… but you have to know what this is for me, what this always has been.”
Clarke felt the corners of her mouth turning up and she looked up at him. “You did once walk into a tree because you were distracted looking at me.”
Bellamy rolled his eyes but reached one of his hands up to pull her face to his, pulling her in for a deep kiss.
“It’s you, Bellamy,” Clarke whispered when they separated. “It was always you. It was always going to be you, end of the world or not.”
Bellamy smiled and kissed her again. The kiss deepened and Clarke wove her arms around his hips, holding him close. Bellamy had just slipped his tongue into her mouth when he heard Murphy outside the door, continuing to argue with Emori over something.
“Is it bad if I just want to keep it between us for a while, though?” Clarke asked now, a little more cautious.
“No, I get it, and I’m on the same page,” Bellamy replied with a groan. “As soon as we tell them, all we’ll here is choruses of ‘I told you so’ and constant roasts.”
“Exactly.”
“We live with assholes. Why did we save them all, exactly?”
“Which time?” Clarke shot back with a smirk.
“Exactly,” Bellamy replied with a chuckle, kissing her again when he couldn’t help himself. They pressed their foreheads together lightly, trying to think of their next move.
“We just have to get Murphy and Emori back together,” Bellamy told her. Clarke nodded.
“Is it bad that we’re only doing it for our own selfish reasons?” she asked.
“Meh, we’ve done a lot worse,” Bellamy retorted and she rolled her eyes.
“Ok, let me try to figure out what happened from Emori,” Clarke suggested.
“And I’ll work on Murphy.”
They agreed and worked together to pile Clarke’s clothes on her dresser, ready for her to move them to her new (hopefully temporary) room. They snuck kisses as they went and promised each other the separation wouldn’t last long.
When they were finally finished, Monty came in to help Clarke carry her clothes to Emori’s room. Murphy walked into Bellamy’s and immediately dropped his belongings in a pile on the floor.
“You can put those in the dresser,” Bellamy told him, but Murphy ignored him completely and flopped down on the bed, stretching his arms up and putting them behind his head.
Bellamy clenched his teeth together and took a deep breath.
Temporary. This was only temporary, he assured himself.
Clarke tried to chat with Emori as she unpacked her clothes into her new dresser, but before she could make any real headway, Jasper called them all into the living room.
“We need to start lining up acts,” he told everyone. Somehow, he had found a clipboard and he kept tapping at it emphatically.
“I thought we were going to keep this casual,” Harper replied cautiously.
“Oh we will, totally casual,” Jasper assured her. “We just also need to make sure that it’s totally perfect.”
Raven rolled her eyes.
“Clarke and I will meet with everyone to give feedback on their choice of performance,” Jasper told the group, passing Clarke a second clipboard.
“Why do we have to run our acts past you?” Echo asked.
“Um, because we’re the Director and Assistant Director, obviously,” Jasper responded. “No further questions. Murphy, you’re up first.”
The rest of the day was spent with Clarke and Jasper meeting with everyone about their performances. Clarke readily agreed to every suggestion, but Jasper was far more picky.
“Harper and Echo are already doing a dance number, you’ll have to think of something else,” he told Emori.
“If anyone is going to be playing guitar, Roan, it’s going to be me.”
“Scowling in silence for seven minutes is not a talent, Murphy.”
That evening, Clarke and Jasper were going over the list of acts in the dining room.
“This is a disaster,” Jasper announced. “Right now we only have two acts lined up: Harper and Echo’s dance and Bellamy’s poem recitation, and you know that poem’s going to be a snoozefest.”
Clarke felt an instinct to defend Bellamy based on their new relationship, but honestly agreed with Jasper’s diagnosis.
“I’m thinking that maybe you need to… loosen the reigns a little bit,” Clarke suggested carefully.
Jasper snorted.
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke asked.
“When have you ever ‘loosened the reigns’ on anyone?”
“Hey! I’ve been trying! I let Harper take the leadership role in this bunker, didn’t I?”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but we both know how long that will last. First chance you get, you’ll be grabbing power and forcing us all to follow whatever stupid decisions you make next.”
Clarke threw down her clipboard and stood up. Jasper looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but Clarke cut him off.
“That’s not fair, Jasper. I know I’ve made mistakes in my past, big ones, and ones that I wish I could take back. But I’m trying. And I thought that you of all people would recognize that. I’m not the only one hoping for a second chance here.”
She stormed off, leaving Jasper behind to plan his own damn talent show.
Clarke couldn’t sleep that night. The bed she shared with Emori was just as comfortable as the one she shared with Bellamy, but she couldn’t get her mind to rest. She was furious with Jasper. She couldn’t count how many times she had apologized to him since Mount Weather, and in her heart she knew that she had done the only thing she could have done to save them all in that moment. Jasper was never going to take out Cage on his own, armed with a simple knife. She knew that losing Maya had been brutal for him, but she had apologized as many times as she could for it. And was he forgetting how many times she had saved his life?
She turned over again, stewing.
Finally, she got out of bed and grabbed a book, deciding to read in the living room where the light wouldn’t wake up her new roommate. She glanced at her watch on her way out of the room and saw that it was well past midnight.
When she got to the living room, she had to chuckle, because Bellamy was laying down on the main couch, covered by a throw blanket, clearly trying to sleep. He heard her footsteps and lifted his head, smiling when he saw who it was.
“Having trouble sleeping?” Clarke asked.
“Murphy snores like a freight train,” he replied. Clarke winced and nodded – Emori had mentioned that.
“What about you?” he asked.
“Too much on my mind,” she replied. Bellamy patted a spot on the couch next to him and Clarke sat down, curling into him and allowing him to run his hand up and down her arm soothingly.
She told him about the conversation with Jasper and the frustrations she had been feeling since then.
“You’re right, you know,” Bellamy told her. “You have been trying and you have apologized enough – he was out of line to come at you like that.”
“I think it’s just easy for him to take his grief out on me,” Clarke reasoned. “He’s been doing that for a while.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
“I know.” She laid down next to Bellamy and let him wrap his arm around her, pulling her back into his chest.
“I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself,” he whispered to her.
She let herself enjoy the feeling of being held by him for a moment before turning in his arms to kiss him.
“Mmmm, I miss you,” she moaned into his mouth. His hand gripped her hip and pulled her even closer.
“I miss you too,” he told her, kissing her again and letting his hand drift to her backside.
“Have you learned anything from Murphy yet?” Clarke asked.
Bellamy wrinkled his nose at the mention of his roommate. “Just that Emori had been ‘riding his ass’ for the last week – his words, not mine. Anything out of Emori?”
“Just the expected complaints. He’s messy, he snores, he’s selfish, etc. But nothing new.”
Bellamy nodded and yawned. “Can we fall asleep here?”
“Someone will probably find us in the morning if we do.”
They kissed for a few more minutes, unable to stop themselves. Bellamy’s hands drifted under Clarke’s shirt and up to her ribcage. Clarke wound her fingers through his curls and smiled against his mouth.
“So about sleeping?” he asked.
“I’ll set an alarm on my watch for 5,” Clarke told him, pressing some buttons. They had found the watch at the bottom of a box of things from Becca’s office and Raven had repaired it for her. No one else really cared what time it was, so Clarke didn’t really have to fight anyone for it. “No one is up that early.”
Bellamy nodded and pulled her close again. They made out for a few more minutes before falling asleep tangled together.
Clarke didn’t know what to expect the next day. She and Jasper were supposed to watch their bunkermates “audition” their acts at 10:00, but Clarke didn’t even know if she had a job as his Assistant Director anymore after their fight the previous day.
She didn’t see Jasper in the morning as she ate breakfast, worked out in the gym, and took a shower. When she arrived in the living room a little before 10, she found their two clipboards waiting on the table. The title on the top of the first one read “Clarke Griffin, Assistant Director, Forgiven.” The title on the other one read “Jasper Jordan, Director, Sorry.” Clarke smiled a little bit to herself. Jasper joined her on the couch (after clearing away a pile of detritus Roan had left there that morning) and looked at his hands, clearly trying to come up with something to say.
“Look, Clarke,” he began. “You were right. I just-”
Before he could finish, Clarke plucked his pen off of his clipboard, crossed out the word “Sorry” and scrawled “Forgiven” next to it.
Jasper looked up at her with a sheepish smile.
“I really am sorry, Jasper,” she said quietly. “I wish more than anything that it had never come to that.”
“I know,” Jasper told her, and there was a sincerity in his eyes that told her he did know. “Let’s let it lay now,” he offered.
Clarke nodded her agreement and smiled.
Their moment was broken by Murphy storming into the room.
“Are we getting this over with yet?” he asked.
Jasper immediately sprung into character, lifting his clipboard and tucking his pen behind his ear. He crossed his left ankle over his right knee and offered the young man a critical look.
“John Murphy, what talent will you be auditioning today?” he asked with an air of authority that surprised both Clarke and Murphy.
“I’m going to burp the alphabet,” Murphy announced.
Clarke rolled her eyes, but Jasper tapped his fingertips together, considering.
“An interesting choice,” he replied. “Proceed.”
Murphy only made it to “F,” so Jasper vetoed the act.
“Thank you for giving me the opportunity,” Murphy told him solemnly, accepting the judgment.
“What the fuck am I watching?” Clarke muttered to herself.
Next up was Raven. She hauled in a bunch of different pots and pans from the kitchen and started drumming on them, using two wooden spoons as her drumsticks.
Both Jasper and Clarke were impressed, though Jasper did remind Raven to practice often before the big day, advice that earned him a seething scowl from the mechanic.
Harper and Echo were next: they were going to be dancing to a popular song from the early 2040s that the whole bunker enjoyed listening to from time to time. By this point, most of the other residents of the bunker were also hanging out, watching the auditions. (Jasper was unhappy about this lack of professionalism, but had decided to pick his battles more carefully and was therefore trying to Let This Go.)
“Are you ready?” Clarke asked, her thumb hovering over the play button on the ancient ipod.
“I guess,” Harper said nervously, glancing at her dance partner. Clarke was confused. She started the music, however, and realized what had made Harper nervous within seconds.
So, here was the thing. Echo was good at everything. Literally everything. In their nearly four months of living together in the bunker, they hadn’t yet found anything she couldn’t do. She was the most athletic of all of them and could run for hours on a treadmill without breaking a sweat. She was the most skilled with hand-to-hand combat, even knocking Roan on his royal ass as often as she wanted to. She was a pretty good cook and even Monty had to admit she had a knack for gardening. She was one of the few bunkermates Raven trusted with the laptops. She won every board game she played, and only half of them by cheating.
It was annoying, honestly. It had become the center of many of their jokes and had caused countless eye rolls.
But now, now the bunkermates witnessed the impossible: Echo being genuinely bad at something.
Echo wasn’t just a bad dancer – she was an unimaginable nightmare. She had zero sense of tempo or beat, her limbs seeming to move at random. She frequently turned in the wrong direction. She never pointed her toes when she was supposed to. The funniest part was the grimace she wore on her face the whole time.
In short, she looked like a human trying to replicate a chicken without ever having seen what a chicken was, while also dealing with an intensely itchy rash and possibly food poisoning.
Poor Harper was a pretty good dancer, but no one was looking at her. Everyone was staring at the human tire fire that was the dancing Echo.
Murphy held his laughter for the first minute before cracking. He was joined by Bellamy, Raven, Roan, and even Emori. Monty held it together, but Clarke could tell it was only for Harper’s sake. Both women stopped dancing when they heard the laughter and Clarke cut the music.
“Well, that was certainly interesting,” Jasper began, clearly panicked about the prospect of insulting the intimidating Azgeda spy with an honest critique.
“Why are you laughing?” Echo asked, confused.
“I told you,” Roan muttered to Bellamy and Clarke turned to glare at the pair of them, but it was no use.
“What’s going on?” Echo continued, which only made Murphy laugh harder. He had tears leaking out of his eyes by this point.
Echo turned to Harper, who was twisting her fingers nervously.
“So, a dance just might not be the best act choice for us,” Harper told her gently, but Echo was still confused. As she glanced around the room and saw their faces, though, she figured it out.
Clarke felt bad for her. She watched as Echo’s demeanor shifted and the cold steel of the spy’s façade slid over her face.
“This is stupid,” she announced, before stalking away to her room and slamming the door.
“Oooh, can I join Harper in the dance now?” Emori asked, ever the opportunist.
“Sure, sure that’s fine,” Clarke answered, Jasper still lost for words.
“Let’s get back into the swing of things,” Clarke continued, trying to distract everyone from Echo and get the day back on track. “Bellamy, I think you’re next.”
Bellamy was still planning to read some ancient epic poem and Clarke knew it was going to be boring, but she prepared herself to look interested – she had to be supportive, after all. Bellamy opened his mouth to begin, but Jasper immediately cut him off.
“Yeah, yeah you’re fine,” Jasper told him dismissively.
“But I didn’t even get started,” Bellamy protested, but Jasper waved him from the performing area.
“I have a new act!” Murphy shouted, leaping to the floor and pushing Bellamy out of the way.
“Oh God, what now?” Clarke asked.
“Juggling,” he announced, and Jasper lit up with excitement.
“Yes! I was hoping someone was going to juggle!”
Jasper dashed around the bunker, collecting items for Murphy to juggle. He ended up with Roan’s plastic kitchen timer, a potato, and a bar of soap.
The friends held their breath, waiting for Murphy to dazzle them. He threw up the potato and it crashed to the floor, inches away from his outstretched palm. He threw up the soap and it smacked off the ceiling before landing several feet away. He wound up to try the kitchen timer but Roan was on his feet, announcing that that was enough and stealing his timer back.
“Ok, so I still need practice,” Murphy said.
Clarke could tell that Jasper wanted to veto the act, but he nervously looked at his clipboard, which listed only two finalized acts at the moment – Raven’s drum solo and Bellamy’s dreaded recitation.
“Sure, just make sure to practice,” he finally said.
“Yes!” Murphy celebrated, scooping up the potato and soap and raising them in his fist in victory.
Emori rolled her eyes and feigned a yawn.
Monty was supposed to go next, but he insisted his act needed to remain secret. It was a mark of their friendship that Jasper allowed this to go on.
The last to audition was Roan, who carried out Jasper’s guitar and perched on the coffee table. Roan had spent much of the previous evening tuning the guitar, using a small segment of a television show they had watched the previous week, where the main character tunes his guitar while breaking up with his boyfriend, to get the sound of each string correct.
The entire bunker had been ready to kill him after listening to the break-up conversation for the 37th time, but they had to admit it was worth it when they heard Roan strum a clear, accurate, honest-to-goodness chord from the thing.
“We might be out of time for auditions today,” Jasper announced, staring at the guitar in jealousy.
“I think we have time for one more,” Clarke countered, patting Jasper’s arm.
Roan strummed a chord and Clarke felt her heart flutter. He strummed a few more and she looked around to see that nearly everyone had leaned in, heart eyes seeming to emanate from their heads. She caught Bellamy’s eye and he scowled, so she quickly schooled her face into a passive, unimpressed expression.
Then Roan started to sing and it was like the whole bunker collectively caught goosebumps. Monty and Emori gasped in unison. Murphy gulped. Clarke found herself growing warm and tried to think of medical textbooks to distract herself.
“I think we’ve heard enough,” Jasper suddenly announced, standing up and interrupting Roan’s song.
Everyone protested, but Jasper shouted above them all “Thank you for auditioning and we will let you know!”
Jasper stalked off to his room and Clarke was more than a little sad that he took the guitar with him.
The next few days were some of the busiest Clarke had experienced since they had entered the bunker. The talent show had consumed everyone’s time and attention as Jasper’s enthusiasm proved contagious. In the lounge, Harper and Emori practiced their dance routine over and over, perfecting moves and taking suggestions from Monty and Raven, who were often recruited as audience members. Raven’s incessant drumming was giving Clarke a headache. Bellamy was determined to memorize his monologue, but no one would listen to him practice, which led to even more grumbling.
Echo had decided to stick with something she knew she was good at after embarrassing herself at the auditions, so she was now going to be performing a sword demonstration with one of the wooden foils they had crafted. She made a show of ignoring Harper and Emori’s dance practice, setting up drills and sword routines instead. Clarke was tempted to roll her eyes at this, considering that Echo showed off her swordplay every day, but she knew the young woman was acting from a place of insecurity, so Clarke held her tongue.
Monty was still keeping his act a secret and Clarke was getting more and more curious by the day.
Jasper had also decided that he and Clarke needed to participate, which was what Clarke had been trying to avoid from the beginning. Jasper was planning to do some sort of magic show, working from what he had seen in one of their old films, but seemed convinced that he didn’t need any actual practice and would just naturally excel at stage magic. Clarke agreed with his confident assessment, but only so she could stay on his good side and get out of performing.
Though she was a natural leader, Clarke had always suffered from debilitating stage fright. Wells had known and had often helped her out with presentations and group projects in school, doing whatever he could to keep her out of the spotlight. Bellamy’s willingness to handle the speeches was one of the things that made her value their partnership so highly. She was determined to do whatever she could to stay well away from their (figurative) stage come talent show night.
Speaking of her partnership with Bellamy, with everyone practicing their acts in every room of the bunker, it was difficult for Clarke and Bellamy to sneak in any alone time, but this didn’t stop them from trying, of course. They had slipped into the laundry room one morning and made out for six minutes before hearing footsteps heading their way and breaking apart, clumsily pretending to be folding their laundry when Monty walked in a few minutes later. They had sat next to each other during the bunker’s movie night, but both had felt so nervous that someone would notice the new energy between them that they hadn’t ventured to do more than hold hands under a blanket.
Right now, they were pressed together in Clarke and Emori’s room, trying to steal a few moments while Emori was putting in her time at the gym.
Bellamy lifted Clarke onto her dresser and moved quickly to step between her legs, one hand holding her hip and the other cupping the back of her head, bringing her into a searing kiss.
They broke apart after a long moment and Clarke trailed her lips down Bellamy’s neck, pulling a deep groan from him.
“God, I can’t wait until we get our room back,” he muttered, connecting their lips once more.
“I’m working on it,” Clarke told him, breathing heavily. “I finally got Emori to tell me what they’re fighting about.”
“Oh?” Bellamy asked, moving to her throat as she continued her explanation.
“Yes. She said she was tired of, oh God Bellamy right there, she was tired of, oh fuck that feels incredible, she was tired of, umm,” she broke off in a moan, losing her train of thought.
“Ok, give me one minute,” she finally announced, gripping Bellamy’s face and holding it in place so he had to take a break from kissing her.
“Distracted?” he asked with a smirk.
“Do you want us to get our room back or not? Anyway, Emori said she was tired of Murphy’s constant apathy and the fact that he never cares about anything. Apparently his cynicism got to be too much.”
“I thought that was part of his charm?” Bellamy asked.
“Did you just say Murphy has charm?”
“Oh shut up you know what I meant.”
Clarke laughed. “Yeah, I thought that’s what worked with them too, but apparently he just pushed it too far. She said it hit her one day that if he never cared about anything, he obviously couldn’t care about her.”
“And did she tell him this?” Bellamy asked.
“She did, and he told her she was being ridiculous.”
Bellamy sucked in a breath and Clarke nodded. “Yup, not the smartest move.”
“So how do we get them to fix it?” said Bellamy, his eyes starting to move down to Clarke’s throat and chest again.
“I don’t know, I’m still working on that,” she replied before finally reconnecting their mouths.
They kissed for another few minutes, their hands starting to roam. Bellamy started to work Clarke’s shirt up her torso.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Clarke’s eyes jumped up to find a very familiar dark ponytail swinging in the doorway.
“Hey Clarke, have you seen, HOLY SHIT!” Raven screamed.
“Shhhh!” Bellamy and Clarke both warned in unison. Raven looked around to see if anyone was coming, but everyone else still seemed busy and distracted. Emori was blasting loud music in the gym and it sounded like it had covered her scream of surprise.
Bellamy removed his hand from Clarke’s shirt and gestured Raven to come in and shut the door.
“Holy shit!” Raven said again, this time in a whisper-hiss.
“Ummm, it’s not what it looks like?” Clarke tried.
“You swap saliva with all of your friends? Just enjoying a casual afternoon grope session?” Raven asked with a smirk.
“Ok, fine, it’s exactly what it looks like,” Clarke capitulated.
“I fucking knew it,” Raven announced triumphantly. “Wait until Echo hears-”
“Can we get you to keep this quiet, actually?” Clarke asked.
Raven snorted.
“Let’s rephrase that,” Bellamy tried. “What do we have to do to get you to keep this quiet?”
Raven now sported a wicked smile as she thought to herself.
“Hmmm, let’s see. Bell, you have to let me kick your ass in front of Echo tomorrow during training.”
“Why do you want to impress Echo so much?” Clarke asked, trying to prod into Raven’s personal life like Raven was prodding into hers.
“Because I think she’s hot and I want to suck her face,” Raven shot back, “see, when adults have feelings for each other and act like adults, they don’t have to sneak around like this,” she said, gesturing to Clarke and Bellamy.
Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
“And I get your strawberries for the next week,” Raven told Clarke. Clarke narrowed her eyes, but agreed.
“Is that it?” Clarke asked.
“One more thing. I get one whole minute of telling you both ‘I told you so.’”
Clarke and Bellamy rolled their eyes, but Clarke pulled up her watch.
“Fine, your time starts….. now!”
“God, I knew it,” Raven started. “You two are such fucking idiots about your feelings, but I knew there was something more going on. You know, I really predicted this before we even left the dropship. As soon as I found out what happened between you and Finn, the next thing I started wondering about was why Bellamy seemed almost as upset as I was.”
“I wasn’t… that wasn’t anything,” Bellamy muttered. “The guy was just an ass.”
“Don’t take up my time, Blake,” Raven countered.
“Forty more seconds,” Clarke told her.
“And then with everything in Mount Weather? How did you two not figure it out then, I have no idea. And then we all had to watch that hug, for fuck’s sake. And remember that time Bellamy walked into a tree when Clarke smiled at him? Not that Clarke’s any better – we’ve been taking bets for ages as to which of you would finally make a move. Which one was it, anyway? My money’s on Clarke – if it were up to Bellamy you’d both be 85 before he even held your hand. By the way, how’s the-”
“And, that’s time,” Clarke announced.
“I really should have had a few more seconds after Bellamy’s interruption,” Raven grumbled.
“Well we wouldn’t have an answer to your question anyway,” Bellamy fired back, “seeing as we can’t find five minutes of privacy.”
Now Raven laughed heartily. She was about to say something else when they all heard someone approaching the door.
Emori walked into the room and looked around, confused. “What are you three doing?” she asked.
“Clarke just needed help moving the dresser,” Raven offered, pretending to grab a corner of it. She, Bellamy, and Clarke nudged it around a few inches in different directions until Emori grabbed her stuff and headed to the bathroom to shower.
“Thank you, Raven,” Clarke told her sincerely.
“Any time,” Raven shot back with a smirk, whipping her ponytail around on her way out. “And congratulations, you idiots.”
After getting caught by Raven, Bellamy and Clarke tried to keep their hands to themselves and redoubled their efforts to reunite Emori and Murphy.
Since the breakup really stemmed from Emori’s frustrations with Murphy, they tried their best to play him up any chance they got.
Clarke snorted and made herself laugh while she and Emori were getting ready for bed.
“What?” Emori asked.
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about this joke Murphy told earlier – that guy is seriously hilarious.”
“John Murphy?” Emori replied skeptically.
“Yup!” She continued to chuckle to herself. “He is just hilarious to be around.”
“So what was the joke?” Emori asked.
Suddenly, Clarke froze. She hadn’t thought of an actual joke.
“Oh, you had to be there,” she tried.
Emori rolled her eyes.
At lunch the next day, Bellamy complained to Emori about how Murphy had kicked his ass in training that morning.
“He just really committed to it – I could tell he really cared about it,” he told her. Clarke kicked his foot under the table for his lack of subtlety.
Emori just glared at him.
Clarke had hoped to sing his praises during the next talent show rehearsal, but Murphy refused to practice in front of everyone, saying that if Monty got to keep his act secret, so should Murphy.
Clarke closed her eyes and tried to contain her rage. This was starting to feel hopeless.
As the week went on, it seemed like everyone’s nerves started to grow, even though the “show” they were putting on was just for each other. Bellamy still couldn’t find anyone to listen to him practice his monologue.
“Can’t I practice for you?” he asked Clarke one day.
“Ummm,” Clarke replied, trying to find a way out of listening to him recite some old dusty poem for hours, “I think that might make the others suspicious. And I was just on my way to tell Roan to get his clothes out of the dryer – they’ve been in there for two days.” She scampered off before he could protest.
Harper and Emori had perfected their dance by now and Echo had perfected the unaffected face she put on whenever they practiced within her eyesight.
Raven had given up on practicing her drum solo, bored with it already, and was instead focused on helping Echo practice for her swordplay demonstration and rigging up some sort of stage for the talent show itself.
Jasper forced Roan to practice the guitar in his room, claiming that if the others heard it, they’d try to steal his act. No one believed this, but Jasper’s left eye had started twitching and his voice was getting higher and higher the closer they got to the show, so everyone thought it was best not to contradict him.
Finally, the night of the big show arrived. Raven had outdone herself with the stage design. She had used the extra sheets they had taken from Becca’s mansion and rigged up a rope and pulley system so that they had an actual movable curtain. She showed Clarke how it worked and Clarke insisted on curtain duty, if only to keep herself well away from the stage.
Roan, Harper, and Murphy had worked to rearrange the living room furniture so that everything faced the largest open space they could create, which is where Raven and Clarke set up the curtain for the acts.
Monty had even found a way to make popcorn and, while they didn’t have a lot of it, they were all excited for the experience of eating it while they watched the show.
It was Saturday night (chosen specifically by Jasper so that it would be Bunker Family Night) at 7:00 and everyone filtered excitedly into the “theater” they had constructed.
“I can’t believe I’m actually excited for this,” Harper gasped to Emori, who smiled in agreement. Everyone took their seats and Clarke positioned herself by the ropes that controlled the curtains.
Jasper stood behind the curtain and signaled Clarke, who pressed a button on the laptop next to her. Instantly, exciting music (from a playlist Raven had put together for the show) started to play and the audience fell silent.
Clarke pulled the lever next to her, which dramatically opened the curtain. Jasper stepped forward.
“Welcome everyone to the first ever Lighthouse Bunker Talent Show!”
The audience cheered and clapped excitedly. Jasper preened.
“I’m Jasper Jordan, your host for the evening. I’d like to ask everyone to silence their phones and refrain from any flash photography during the performance.” (None of them actually knew what that meant, but Jasper had seen enough announcers say something like that in the movies and tv shows they had watched, and figured it was appropriate.)
“Our first act tonight is Raven Reyes, who will be playing an original creation on her kitchen drumset.”
Clarke closed the curtain again and Raven raced around the side, setting up her drums with a big grin. When she was ready, she flashed Clarke a thumbs up and Clarke opened the curtain.
Raven’s drum solo was impressive, as everyone knew it would be. Clarke smiled to herself as she watched her friend perform. It was cool – even though they had all watched and heard each other practice all week, there was something special about watching the final performance. She also envied Raven’s courage on the stage.
When Raven ended with a dramatic finish, she received a standing ovation from her enthusiastic bunkermates. Clarke closed the curtain and helped Raven move her drums away while Jasper introduced the next act.
“Next up, we have Echo of Azgeda, performing magnificent feats with her sword!”
Echo stood next to Clarke and swallowed hard.
“I need some more time – it’s not perfect yet,” she hissed.
“Jasper just announced you – you have to go!” Clarke told her.
“I can’t!”
Clarke shot a look to Jasper, who figured out what was going on.
“On second thought,” he announced, “we’re going to save Echo for later and I’m going to perform my magic act!” The audience cheered in excitement.
The next ten minutes proved that it does, in fact, require a lot of preparation and practice to do effective stage magic. After Jasper had dropped the long scarf he was supposed to have tucked up his sleeve to his feet, guessed Monty’s card wrong for the seventh time, and somehow spilled water all over the floor (seriously? Where did the water come from?), Clarke saw him start to panic and played some music to get him off the stage.
He was unphased by his act’s failure, however, and just offered Clarke a “tough crowd” while tugging at his collar.
“Who’s next?” he asked her. She told him it was Emori and Harper’s dance number next and then told him to try Echo again after that.
He introduced the dance and, as expected, Harper and Emori did a terrific job. Their spins were perfectly in sync, Harper was far more flexible than anyone knew, and Emori’s sense of rhythm was on point. Everyone was clapping along with the music by the end.
Echo stood next to Clarke behind the curtain, knowing she was next. She watched the dancers with clear envy.
“You’re going to do great,” Clarke told her.
“I don’t want to just get up there and wave my sword,” Echo complained.
“But that’s what you signed up for,” Clarke replied, confused. “You’re so good at it.”
“Buy me some more time,” she told Clarke. Clarke luckily caught Jasper before he went on stage this time and let him know that Bellamy was next.
“Our next act comes from Bellamy Blake, who will be reciting…” (he looked down to his hand, where he had written it in pen so he wouldn’t forget it) “The Shield of Heracles, by some guy named Hesiod.”
Bellamy glared at Jasper as he took the stage and the audience gave him a far feebler applause than everyone else had received.
“Nap time,” Jasper whispered to Clarke as he left the stage. Clarke couldn’t help but agree. She watched Monty and Raven try to hide their yawns in the audience, while Murphy was far less subtle about his own boredom.
“Or like her who left home and country and came to Thebes,” Bellamy began, “following warlike Amphitryon.” His voice had more life than Clarke expected.
“She surpassed the tribe of womankind in beauty and in height; and in wisdom none vied with her of those whom mortal women bore of union with mortal men.”
Clarke started to perk up, drawn in by his intensity and clear passion. Geez, she thought, she must really like this guy. As he continued, though, she turned to the audience and noticed that everyone else was also paying more attention.
The drama built as Bellamy continued his recitation. No one was yawning now. Instead, they were sitting on the edges of their seats. Emori’s jaw even hung open. The recitation lasted somewhere between ten minutes and an hour – none of them were paying attention to the time.
At one point, Roan elbowed Harper and whispered “I’m friends with that guy.”
“But Anaurus,” Bellamy declared, growing quiet, “swelled by a rain-storm, blotted out the grave and memorial of Cycnus; for so Apollo, Leto’s son, commanded him, because he used to watch for and violently despoil the rich hecatombs that any might bring to Pytho.”
He bowed his head and was quiet. Clarke wiped tears from her eyes and looked out to see everyone else doing the same. Everyone leapt to their feet and applauded harder than they had for anything else that night. Bellamy looked on, proud, and turned to Clarke with a grin on his face.
She wished so badly that she could kiss him in this moment.
The applause lasted for several full minutes until Jasper finally broke it up so they could continue with the show. As Bellamy headed back to his seat, he was greeted with shoulder pats and thumbs ups. Raven even pulled him in for a hug.
Clarke looked to Echo and mouthed “do you want to go next?”
“Not after that!” Echo mouthed back. Clarke fought the effort to roll her eyes.
“Murphy’s next,” Clarke signaled to Jasper.
“I don’t envy our next act, who has to follow Bellamy,” Jasper announced, and several bunkermates nodded their agreement. “But if anyone can do it, it’s John Murphy. Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Murphy and his juggling!”
Murphy casually sauntered to the stage, carrying a small bag. Out of the bag, he first drew three small potatoes. Next, he pulled three ears of corn from the bag. Clarke heard Monty muttering his displeasure at this use of their produce. Finally, he pulled out three drinking glasses, and Clarke felt her heart speed up. They only had a limited number of those – were they really going to let Murphy smash them?
Murphy nodded to Clarke, who pressed play on his music selection. He lifted the potatoes. Clarke held her breath in anticipation and noticed that several in the audience were doing the same. Emori was pointedly not looking at him.
Murphy took a deep breath, threw one potato in the air, and caught it. He threw it up again, and caught it. He threw it up a third time and caught it, looking out at the audience with a smirk. Suddenly, he tossed all three potatoes in the air and it appeared to Clarke that they were doing their own sort of dance, even rivaling what they had seen from Harper and Emori earlier that night. The potatoes flew from hand to hand, tracing arcs in the air in different patterns. Jasper and Raven started clapping and cheering; Bellamy and Roan soon joined them.
Murphy suddenly caught all three potatoes in his left hand and set them down, lifting up the ears of corn. These were going to be harder, Clarke knew, because of their shape and size. Even Emori was watching curiously now.
Murphy tossed the corn casually in the air and suddenly new shapes were being produced. The corn spun in circles as it soared, but Murphy never hesitated and never dropped a single ear. Everyone but Emori was cheering now and Clarke could tell even she was fighting a smile. Murphy was grinning from ear to ear as he juggled.
After a minute or so with the corn, Murphy set down the ears and finally reached for the drinking glasses. In spite of his previous success, Clarke still found herself nervous here.
She shouldn’t have been, though. He tossed the glasses expertly and caught every single one. The audience was on their feet now, whistling and cheering.
Suddenly, Murphy started speaking as he juggled. The room quieted and Clarke turned the volume down on the music so that everyone could hear him.
“I know I’m the screw-up,” Murphy announced, spinning a glass over his shoulder and catching it behind his back. “And I know I haven’t always been the most enthusiastic about whatever fucked up thing we cook up to try to survive another few months.” He tossed all three glasses in the air and caught them on his fingertips.
“But I also know that I’m good at this,” he continued, spinning the glasses in the air again. “And not just with potatoes, or corn, or glasses, or flaming torches, which I would be juggling if we had anything to make into torches – trust me, I looked into it.”
Clarke bit her lip, curious as to where this was going. He looked directly at Emori while he spoke, now, and he had stopped tossing the glasses for a moment.
“I’m good at keeping us all in the air, keeping us all going, and making sure none of us hit the ground. And maybe that’s my only job – to keep us all from smashing into the ground when we feel like we’re falling. But someone’s got to do that.” He swallowed hard and resumed tossing the glasses.
Clarke thought about what he had said. He was right, in a way. After their initial conflicts at the dropship, Murphy had always been there when they needed him. He had helped Jaha discover the City of Light and had helped them all take down ALIE, even pumping a human heart to keep Clarke alive. In the moments where they each found themselves falling, Murphy somehow caught them. Sure, he had made mistakes, and he was one of the most selfish people Clarke had ever met, but he didn’t let them fall.
As Clarke had thought about this, Emori had risen from her seat and walked to the stage. Murphy set the glasses down now and his music came to its end.
Murphy stared at Emori and gulped. The rest of the bunker held their breath.
“Seems like you spent a lot of time on this,” Emori ventured cautiously. “A lot of time for something you supposedly don’t care about.”
“I do care about it,” Murphy told her, and there was a sincerity there that Clarke had never seen before. “I care about a lot of things. But nothing as much as I care about you.”
Emori leapt at him and suddenly they were embracing and kissing while the whole bunker whooped and cheered.
Clarke sought out Bellamy’s eyes and the two grinned at each other. Who would have thought the key to getting their friends back together would be Murphy’s juggling? Oh well, the two of them would take it.
Jasper allowed the make out to go on another minute before breaking it up so they could get on with their next act. He looked for Echo, but couldn’t find her, so moved on to Roan.
It was a measure of how well the evening had gone and how good Jasper was feeling about it that he did not interrupt Roan’s song once. Roan played a slow, indie like ballad that had them all smiling and swaying. He was a good singer, as it turned out, and had a deep, raspy voice that drew everyone in.
Clarke looked out at her bunkermates fondly. She saw Harper resting her head on Monty’s shoulder. Emori was sitting in Murphy’s lap and they were kissing again, but no one minded. Raven and Jasper were pretending to hold up lighters (another thing they had seen on a tv show) and sway them back and forth. Her eyes finally settled on Bellamy, who was watching her fondly. She gave him a soft smile. She was envious of Harper and Emori, getting to be so obvious about the person they were in love with. She couldn’t remember now why they were keeping their relationship a secret. She bit her lip, thinking.
The song continued and Clarke found herself lulled into a peaceful state, a rarity for her. In this moment, she felt safe. She felt loved and supported and safe, and she took deep breaths because she could and not because she had to.
When the song ended, everyone stood and applauded. Clarke hugged Roan as he passed her on his way to his seat.
“Thanks for that,” she whispered. Roan winked at her and nodded.
“Our final act of the evening,” Jasper announced, “is the true mystery. Monty will be performing… something?”
Monty took to the stage and Clarke furrowed her brow curiously. He didn’t have any music or props and she wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
“What’s the difference between Murphy and a broken clock?” Monty asked. He got no response.
“A broken clock at least works twice a day,” he offered. The audience was quiet, unsure of how to respond.
Oh no, Clarke thought. Monty was trying stand-up? This was going to be a disaster. This was Monty, after all – quiet, kind Monty. She only hoped everyone was polite about it.
“And Roan cares a lot more about a broken clock than about he does about Murphy,” he added, and that one got a chuckle from Clarke, thinking of how obsessed Roan was with that stupid kitchen timer. She also heard a snort from Roan and saw Murphy roll his eyes, but with a small smirk.
“Speaking of Roan,” Monty continued, “Apparently he still considers himself royalty here. This isn’t Ice Nation, Roan, you have to actually clean up after yourself here.” Everyone was laughing now and Raven reached over and threw one of Roan’s old balled-up socks (which he had stuffed under the couch) at him.
With that, Monty was off to the races. He roasted everyone in turn and they were all laughing hysterically by the end of it. Clarke couldn’t believe that this was Monty up there bringing them to tears.
“Did you guys see how many books Clarke had to pack to lure Bellamy into the bunker?” he asked at one point.
“It’s probably good we discovered something Echo wasn’t perfect at – I think we were all starting to suspect we had another AI living among us,” he said at another point.
“If you’ve ever talked about spark plugs in your sleep, you might be,” he prompted. “Raven Reyes!” the audience shouted back, making Raven blush and roll her eyes good-naturedly.
As he wrapped up his set, Jasper took to the stage to thank everyone for coming to the show and for participating, clearly wrapping up for the evening. Clarke took a deep breath and congratulated herself for managing to avoid the stage all evening. Suddenly, she felt a tug on her elbow. She turned to find Echo standing next to her. “I’m ready,” she whispered to Clarke. Clarke caught Jasper’s attention and pointed to Echo.
“Actually, we have one final act!” Jasper announced. Everyone had been starting to climb out of their chairs, and a few looked reluctant to sit down again. It had been a fun evening, but everyone was worn out now.
“Echo will be performing magnificent feats with her sword,” Jasper explained before moving back to his seat. Clarke saw him stifle a yawn. At least this act was short.
“Play this song,” Echo was telling Clarke now. Clarke was confused, not thinking she needed music for her demonstration, but she did as Echo asked.
Echo headed to the center of the stage area. She looked at the wooden sword in her hand and took a deep breath before setting it down. Now Clarke was even more confused.
The music started: it was an upbeat, fast-paced pop song Clarke had heard a few times. Echo stood still, surveying the audience. Her face was cold, but suddenly broke out in a smirk.
Echo started to dance. It wasn’t that she had practiced all week and magically become a good dancer, like Murphy had mastered juggling. It wasn’t that she possessed a secret talent for dance, like Bellamy had for dramatic recitation or Monty apparently had for jokes.
It was that she was still terrible at dancing, but no longer cared. Clarke watched as she jumped haphazardly around the stage, her arms swinging around at random and her wrists flicking. She kicked out a leg and shimmied a shoulder. Clarke’s mouth started to curl up and she found herself giggling at the whole scene.
Echo was grinning from ear to ear, proudly leaping and spinning with abandon. Raven whooped from the audience and Murphy offered a wolf-whistle. Roan and Harper started to cheer for her too.
Suddenly, Echo turned to Clarke and held out a hand.
Clarke had spent nearly two weeks working to avoid performing on this stage, and suddenly she couldn’t remember why. With one last backwards glance toward her curtain lever, she ran to Echo and the two danced wildly. They had no choreographed steps, no synced movement, and no real rhythm or plan. They just danced. The cheers grew and Echo gestured for them all to join her.
Suddenly the entire bunker was on the stage, dancing wildly to the music. Roan twirled Raven before dipping her. Jasper attempted to crowd surf, but only Monty caught him. Emori and Murphy twirled around each other. Echo leapt and spun, her hair spinning out around her and her smile brilliant. Clarke found herself dancing with Bellamy and reached for his hand, a bold smile on her face.
In this moment, surrounded by energy and real friendship and love and music, everything suddenly felt possible for the first time in Clarke’s life.
“I want them to know,” she told Bellamy suddenly. “I want the whole world to know.”
Bellamy replied with a giant grin before cupping her face between his hands and bringing her in for a searing kiss. Clarke grinned into the kiss but didn’t care that that made it messy. She wrapped her right arm around his torso and used her left hand to slip into curls, holding him in place.
Jasper’s scream of excitement told her that everyone had seen.
Good, she thought. This was her family now, and there should be no secrets among them.
Clarke and Bellamy finally broke apart and rejoined the dancing. Echo’s song had ended but Jasper quickly set up a dance playlist and they all kept jumping around and spinning, laughing at themselves and celebrating their…. Everything really. Celebrating everything.
The world might be a toxic, unlivable fire up above, but down in this bunker, there were ten friends who would never let each other fall, who loved each other and supported each other, who stirred laughter and tears, and who danced like nothing else in the world mattered. And, for one Saturday night at the end of the world, nothing else did.