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Lincoln is, to say the least, surprised that he gets a good night's sleep.
When he wakes up, Octavia isn't in the bed next to him, and he is definitely very confused for a few seconds until he checks his phone. It's 9:30 - he's managed to sleep in on a Saturday, something he doesn't think he's done in at least a couple of months. Octavia must have gone downstairs to get breakfast, he thinks, and heaves himself out of the bed to go and join her.
He shoves on a t-shirt and a hoodie before sleepily making his way along the corridor and down the stairs. The mess hall is noisy, filled with the chatter of students who have the whole day ahead of them. It's definitely not the sluggish, grumpy crowd you get at 7:30 on a Monday morning.
He heads over to the breakfast queue, which is more or less as long as he expected it to be. Octavia sees him from where she's sat next to Clarke, Bellamy and Miller, and jumps up to come and keep him company.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she kisses his cheek and falls into line beside him. "I'm surprised you slept so late."
"Me too," he responds. "It feels weird."
He's never been a man of many words, and Octavia knows that, so she nods and changes the subject.
"Any plans today?" she asks, as he reaches the cereal bar and pours himself a bowl of cheerios.
He thinks for a second. "Homework, mostly. Your brother said he'd help me with the History essay."
"He mentioned, yeah."
"Did you want to do something?" He fumbles and almost drops the cereal, and Octavia laughs at him. He grins: he loves making her laugh almost as much as he loves her laugh itself.
"I was thinking lunch? Jasper and Monty mentioned they wanted to go to the Dropship and I thought we could join them. It would be a double date sort of thing, except I don't think Jonty really do dates, so it would just be a regular lunch." She pauses. "Anyway, up for it?"
"Sure," he says, grabbing the bowl of cereal as well as couple of pieces of toast. Contrary to popular belief, he doesn't really like breakfast. "I need to talk to Bellamy about when we're doing the essay though. Did Jasper and Monty mention a time?"
"Talk to Bellamy first, and then I'll ask them," she replies, following him over to the table to sit down.
Bellamy is at the group’s table, poring over some book that Lincoln can’t see the title of. He makes a sort of grunt of recognition as he and Octavia sit down, and she slaps him over the head.
“Bellamy! Will you stop being a nerd for like 5 seconds and talk to Lincoln about his history essay?”
Bellamy finally looks up. “Oh, hey Lincoln.”
Octavia rolls her eyes. Bellamy is dead to the world when he gets his hands on a history book.
“I did a plan thingy? Here.” He shoves a few sheets of paper across the table. All of them are fully typed out in a tiny font with handwritten notes coming off the sides. Octavia is laughing and calling her brother names, but Lincoln can suddenly feel exactly how tired he is. The Saturday morning lie-in wasn’t enough to lift the feeling of exhaustion from his bones. He stares blankly at the plan for a minute, trying to process what must be the literally thousands of words- and that’s only Bellamy’s bloody plan.
He must be showing something in his face because Octavia asks him if he’s okay, and Bellamy starts saying something about his handwriting. He doesn’t want to make them feel bad, especially when Bellamy has put so much work into this for him, but it’s all so much and right now, he just wants to go right back to bed and sleep for at least a week.
"Sorry if it's unreadable," he hears Bellamy say. "I kinda get carried away in Kane's classes."
He just nods, not particularly interested in anything but getting this damn essay written. He thanks Bellamy, who assures him it's no problem and turns to Clarke and Miller animatedly talking about something or other.
Octavia reaches across him for the water jug. "Hey, you sure you're okay?"
"I'm not sure the extra couple of hours did much good, to be honest," he blinks a couple of times, before taking a bite of his toast. "I'm still a little out of it."
"We don't have to go to lunch," she says. "We could stay here instead. You look like you need sleep."
"No, no, let's go, you seem excited." He smiles at her. "Plus, I'm always craving a burger from the Dropship."
She nods, and he can tell she's not entirely convinced. He sees Murphy and Jasper enter the mess hall and gives them a wave in greeting.
"Jasper!" Bellamy yells, across the entirety of the mess hall. "On a scale of one-to-I'm-going-to-die, how fucked are you for the Spanish paper on Monday?"
Jasper, for once the more responsible one of the two, quickly makes his way over and sits himself down in Clarke's lap. "I'm actually pretty prepared. It feels nice for a change."
Bellamy swears under his breath, which makes Lincoln grin. If Jasper is prepared and you're not, something is very wrong.
"Jas, are you and Monty still up for lunch today?" Octavia asks, intertwining her fingers with Lincoln's under the table.
"Yeah, I guess," Jasper shrugs. "I am, and Monty's still asleep, but he'll never turn down free lunch and I offered to pay, so."
"Bell, what time did you wanna talk this over with me?" Lincoln rubs his eyes, as if it could somehow make him feel more awake. It doesn't work.
"11?" Bellamy barely looks up from where's opened Duolingo on his phone. "This fucking app, honestly."
"Cool. Lunch at 1?" he says to Octavia. Maybe that way, he can get a power nap in between going through the essay and heading out. A solid plan.
The plan isn’t quite as solid as he had assumed. Bellamy has to keep prodding him through the essay talk and by the end, he’s just saying yes a lot to try and get the whole thing over with. He leaves Bellamy in the library still feeling like Kane might have set the homework in an entirely different language. It’s a problem for another day, he supposes.
His power nap turns out to be more like a short coma. At 1.15, he is being shaken awake by Octavia who looks sympathetic and a little worried. Jasper and Monty are hovering in the doorway. “Lincoln, you still up for it? You don’t have to come,” she says gently. “You can sleep some more.”
He shakes his head as he pulls himself up. “I’m coming, just give me a minute.” Eyes still heavy with sleep, he drags himself out of the bed and looks for his shoes. “I’m not leaving you to third-wheel.”
Octavia smiles at him, which makes him feel like it might be worth it after all. “Awesome. Let’s head out.”
Lincoln falls into step with Octavia, Jasper and Monty bouncing around up ahead. Octavia wouldn’t have been a third-wheel at all, she fits in perfectly and the other two still don’t really act like a couple any more than they had before, but he likes the Dropship and it’s nice to get out for some fresh air and something other than school food.
Their usual waitress, Gina, greets them as they amble in. She looks a little disappointed that neither Bellamy nor Raven have accompanied them, but still smiles brightly and heads off to get their drinks without needing to ask what they want. Perhaps they come here a little too often, but the burgers are good enough that his diet is a sacrifice he’s willing to make.
Jasper leans back against the plush material of the booth they're sitting in, shutting his eyes and humming in content.
"It's so nice not to be in the fucking mess hall," he says. "Don't get me wrong, I love it, but there's only so many times I can eat spaghetti before I wanna vomit."
Monty takes his hand, smiling sympathetically. "He's been working really hard. That lesson with Kane freaked him out."
Jasper scowls but doesn't disagree, and Octavia laughs, fiddling with her napkin.
"He is a tyrant when it comes to homework," she says. "Speaking of, how did the essay work with Bell go?"
"Good, I think," Lincoln replies, as Gina brings over their various drinks. "I'll have a go at writing it tonight."
The conversation moves forward, with Monty asking Octavia about how the plans for the dance are going. Lincoln makes a mental note to talk to Clarke about the next bake sale, because if he wants to be ready he's going to have to stay up to get both the cakes and his essay written and he doesn't think his heart can take it.
Jasper gets up to go to the bathroom halfway through their meal, and as soon as he's out of earshot Monty leans forward.
"It's our two month anniversary next week," he says. "What the hell do I do?"
Octavia and Lincoln look at each other in amusement.
"What did you do for your one month?" Lincoln asks.
"Nothing - which is why I want to do something this time around."
Lincoln pauses, thinking. He'd asked Octavia out in the middle of their fourth year, so they'd been a 'thing' for a while. He can't really remember if they'd done anything for their two months, but if they did, it was very lowkey. Neither of them are particularly into lovey dovey coupley stuff: they just enjoy each other's company.
"In all seriousness, nothing much has changed since you were just best friends other than now you kiss and occasionally come down for breakfast looking like you were in a nasty fight," Octavia grins. "Just take him here, or watch a film, and get him a card with a dumb Chemistry joke on the front. Less is more."
Lincoln looks at her fondly. He doesn't know how he got so lucky.
Monty sits back, thinking, just as Jasper rejoins them.
"So," he drapes himself over Monty dramatically, winking at Octavia. "What did I miss?"
“Nothing much,” Octavia says smoothly. “Just Monty telling us how bad you are in bed.” Lincoln cracks a smile at that. Jasper looks mock outraged, and raises an eyebrow at Monty.
“Sure, guys. All that aside, Lincoln, what kind of cakes are you making?”
“Don’t know yet,” Lincoln says. “I need to talk to Clarke about the timing.”
Jasper seems to miss the concern in Lincoln’s voice. “Nothing with nuts. We can’t put Jackson through the stress of looking for Monty’s epi-pen again.”
“I wish I could have explained all that stuff in my bag,” Monty shakes his head. “Jackson still laughs when he sees me.”
Octavia snorts. “Yeah, that stays with a man.”
Glad the topic has moved away from his actual bake sale, Lincoln settles back to listen to the conversation. He never really engages that much, because he’s not entirely sure what he contributes to the whole group, but he’s quite happy just to listen to them rib each other. The quieter he is, the less he gets roasted, at least.
When they finish their meals, it’s time to head back to school. Lincoln is a little disappointed by this. He treasures the time he gets outside. As much as he likes their school, it’s always nice to come back outside into the real world. After a while, the school starts feeling a little bit too familiar and cramped, and it’s refreshing to come somewhere where he can see new faces and couldn’t walk the entire area with his eyes closed. It’s more or less the biggest reason he had bothered to drag himself out of bed to come here at all.
He also likes the comfort of a place he can be anonymous. At school, everyone knows everyone, and it's the kind of thing that you wish you could escape sometimes. That, and sometimes he thinks that all he offers is baking and being Octavia's boyfriend.
The thought makes his heart sink a little. He's never really thought about it before, but the more he does, he realises his role is more or less expendable. He's not Bellamy, and he's certainly not Clarke, who despite only being at the school a few months has managed to find a crucial role at the core of the group.
It's all he can think about on their walk home, watching Octavia tease Jasper as Monty rolls his eyes at the two of them.
Once they're back, he grabs his History stuff, fully intent on spending the rest of the day in the library as a distraction. He kisses Octavia goodbye, heading to the academic building with purpose. The library is pretty quiet for a Saturday afternoon, and he manages to find a computer to use as well as a couple of the books he needs.
He follows the structure Bellamy told him about with difficulty - his strengths definitely lie with visuals, much like Clarke - but finds he gets through his work a lot quicker than intended.
He's yawning and thinking about heading to bed when Indra and Nyko somehow manage to sneak up behind him.
“Lincoln!” Nyko says fondly, and he jumps. Wow, he needs sleep.
Indra just gives him a nod and a small smile. She’s not one for theatrics. Despite the surprise, he’s glad to see them. They were his closest friends outside 'octavia blake and the criminals', and until Octavia had introduced him to them, they had been his only friends as well.
“Nyko, Indra. It’s been a while!”
“You look run-down, Lincoln.” Indra says bluntly. “Octavia’s lot finally getting to you?”
“If you’re ill, I’ve got some stuff I can give you?” Nyko is training (unofficially, in that Jackson and Abby don’t know about it) to be a medic. He seems to be running some sort of natural medicines pharmacy out of his dorm room. Lincoln doesn’t know much about it, other than that it’s a surprisingly well-kept secret given that Nyko is rather strict about what he’s actually giving out. He’s not trying to get anyone high, which some people had found rather disappointing.
“I think I’m alright, thanks.” He shrugs and smiles to stop both of them worrying. “Really. This year’s just taking its toll.”
Indra raises an eyebrow. “Well, you look like you could do with some help. We were going to get coffee at the mess hall. Are you coming?”
Partly out of gratitude and partly out of fear of what Indra will do to him if he refuses, Lincoln agrees to go with them. It’s been awhile since they caught up, and he feels bad for leaving them behind when he joined Octavia's group. He still feels as if he doesn’t entirely fit into either, but a coffee is always appreciated. Maybe it’ll keep him awake long enough not to fuck up his sleeping schedule entirely.
Once they've sat down, mugs of coffee in hand, Lincoln feels his body relax. He's not sure he even realised how tense he was. Writing an essay can do that to you, he supposes.
"You haven't been sleeping properly," Indra notes, not even glancing up from stirring her drink. Nyko hums in agreement.
"I don't think it's just the work," he says. "Lincoln. What is going on?"
"Yeah, I guess I haven't been sleeping," Lincoln admits. "I just have a lot to do."
Indra raises an eyebrow, and Nyko just looks disappointed. Lincoln suddenly remembers what it's like to be friends with the two of them. They're fiercely protective of each other, unlikely to let an issue go unless they know it's been dealt with. He assumes this is one of those issues.
"So stop doing so much." Indra raises her mug to her lips.
Lincoln shakes his head. "I can't. I'm in charge of part of the LGBTQ society's fundraising, and I've got a lot of homework-"
"-so hand the baking off to someone else," Nyko interrupts. "Idiot."
Rolling his eyes, Lincoln lets himself smile a little at their want to look after him. He remembers first year. He'd been ridiculously nervous, quiet, unable to look anyone in the eye. Nyko had been his first roommate, and Indra was the one who finally got him talking at lunch. She also insists she was the reason he got together with Octavia, which he'll blatantly ignore, but it's probably true. He owes pretty much everything to them.
"I'll talk to Clarke," he says, partly because he should, but partly because he knows they care and he doesn't want to worry them.
Indra looks skeptical, but she nods nonetheless, and Nyko smiles at him. Lincoln knows he's won them over for now.
He knows he really should find Clarke, because the rational part of his brain is telling him that he won't be able to get everything done in the next few days. Hell, if he carries on like this, the next few months are going to be a battle.
He spots Bellamy and Murphy in what looks like a heated argument sitting by the door to the mess hall. He assumes Bellamy will know where Clarke is, so he excuses himself with promises for Indra and Nyko to catch up properly later, and heads over there.
“There’s no evidence for it! And it’s stupid!” Bellamy sounds pissed off, and Lincoln wonders if it might be better to come back later. “It doesn’t make any sense at all!”
“Well, you can’t disprove it. Tell me one thing that proves Shakespeare couldn’t time travel.” Murphy looks smug. “Check and mate.”
Bellamy looks like he’s about to deck Murphy before he notices Lincoln. “Hey, you okay? Is this about the history essay?”
“No, I was wondering if you knew where Clarke is? It’s about the bake sale.”
“She’s having dinner with her mom, it might be a while. Are you still doing it?”
“I might need to hand off the baking. I’m really sorry, I just-”
He must look really sorry, because Bellamy looks concerned. “Don’t freak out. Someone else can do it.”
He sighs. “Is there something else I can help with?”
Murphy narrows his eyes. “I thought you were handing off the baking because you didn’t have time. Are you replacing it to torture yourself or-”
“I just feel like I don’t really contribute anything to this group.” Lincoln hadn’t really been expecting himself to say that, and he feels a little bit startled. Bellamy’s face softens, and Murphy puts down whatever he’d been fiddling with.
“Lincoln, what?” Bellamy says, clearly preparing an epic speech.
“Um, I’ll go find Octavia,” Murphy says, clearly ready to scarper before Bellamy gives him a look that Lincoln doesn’t really understand, but Murphy clearly does, because he sits down again.
“You contribute loads! You’re like the main reason people don’t mess with us, and you always pick the best movies on movie night. And Lincoln hugs are the best hugs, no competition!”
“You’re like the only reason the group doesn’t go into meltdown when something bad happens,” Murphy adds. “I still don’t know how you controlled everyone at the hospital last year.” Lincoln smiles at that. It had been like herding cats, and Raven had declared afterwards that he deserved a medal of some sort.
"I guess."
"Is there anything we can do?" Bellamy looks sad. "We never want you to feel like this if we can help it."
"I think I just need to find the time to sleep some more. It'll probably help if I can think rationally."
"From now on, stop taking so much on," Bellamy gets out his phone, which Lincoln assumes he does to send a text to Clarke. "Murphy can bake, and I know for a fact he's pretty light on homework this week, so he can take over."
Murphy looks disgruntled, but he nods nonetheless. "Yeah, I'll rope Miller into helping me. It's all good."
"If you're sure," Lincoln says reluctantly.
"Sit down, oh my god," Murphy waves at the chair next to him. "Stop standing there looking all brooding and sad. I don't think my heart can take it."
So he does. He sits down, and he listens to Bellamy and Murphy start arguing about Shakespeare again, and he starts to feel a lot better. Just saying it helped, he can't wait to see what more rest does.
"I'm telling you, you can't tell me Benvolio and Mercutio weren't gay for each other." Murphy exclaims, and Lincoln lets himself be pulled into the conversation.
"I'm with Murphy," he says, and Bellamy looks outraged.
"Lincoln, my dude. Seriously?"
The conversation lasts all afternoon, other members of the group joining them as the evening creeps up upon them. Even Indra and Nyko join them for dinner. He laughs as he watches Jasper attempt to hold a conversation with Indra, because he's really not all that successful.
He thinks either Murphy or Bellamy must have told the rest of the group about the earlier conversation at some point because they’re being extra affectionate today. Octavia has, as usual, draped herself over him, but now she seems to be competing for space with Harper and Monty. Clarke is chatting away about how well Lincoln had already done with the fundraising, and how even if he’s not baking, he’s still providing the recipes, so it’s basically his work anyway. Murphy tries to protest this as the new baker in command, but is firmly shushed by Miller. He takes this as a cue to carry on antagonising Bellamy with historical inaccuracies and wild theorising. At least Bellamy appears to have loosened up, and is now possibly genuinely entertaining the theory that Avril Lavigne has died and been replaced ("holy shit Murphy, she really does look different!"). He’ll probably never fully relax about Shakespeare, but modern pop is a flexible area and Lincoln can tell the group is going to have some fun with this one.
“Are you sure you’re not being crushed?” Miller raises an eyebrow at Lincoln and the people sitting on him. “I know this group has no concept of any boundary between privacy and public life, but there’s a lot going on there.”
Lincoln shrugs. “They’re all tiny. It’s like having kittens on your lap.” Octavia punches him lightly in the arm, but Monty and Harper seem quite happy to accept this description. He supposes he does have his role in this group, even if it is a glorified cushion.
He thinks he can live with that.