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It's not as if Bellamy hasn't been kind of worrying about some kind of end of the world for a while. Even before the 2016 election, he'd been worried about that, and once Trump was in office, it felt like things started getting worse at an exponential rate. And he's been doing what he could to try to make it better; he donates money, goes to rallies, volunteers, tells all his classes about fascism and what corrupt leaders do to stay in power and control their people. He doesn't think he has enough time to run for public office, but he's been trying to figure it out, trying to decide what level of local government he could get involved, but it's still nebulous.
Like most people he knows, resistance sounds good to him in theory, but he hasn't figured out how to make it work in practice yet. It's a work in progress, along with getting over his ex-girlfriend and surviving AP exams, the usual hobbies everyone has, he figures. Once he has time, he'll figure out how to impact global warming or whatever. It's on his to-do list, somewhere farther down.
Until, that is, Madi shows up.
It's an otherwise unremarkable Thursday night and when the intercom buzzes, his first assumption is that it's bad news. Which doesn't even feel particularly paranoid; he doesn't get unexpected visitors, as a rule. If he hasn't ordered takeout, he doesn't have people trying to get in.
Still, the more likely explanation is that it's a fluke, someone just pushing all the buttons trying to get in the building or something, so he ignores it and hopes it goes away.
The second buzz is longer, more insistent, and he drags himself to the intercom.
"Yes?"
"Bellamy Blake?"
The voice is static-y, but even though the interference, it doesn't sound like official business. It's a feminine voice, high and nervous, like whoever it is seems very worried they're in the wrong place.
"Yeah, this is Bellamy."
"Thank goodness. My name is Madi. I'm thirteen and I'm tired and I need to--"
It could be bullshit, but they do sound young and exhausted and scared, and they know his name. If he's getting fucked with, they're doing a good job, and they deserve to reap the fruits of their efforts.
"I'll be right down."
He grabs a hoodie and his keys, doesn't bother with shoes. If this unknown kid wants him to go somewhere, they can wait for him to get dressed first.
The girl he finds on the front step reminds him of Octavia immediately, small and pale, big eyes and dark hair, determination through terror. She's too young to be one of his students and he can't think of any other way she would have found him. He doesn't know anyone with a kid this age.
"Hi," he says, wary.
"It really is you." She slumps against the side of the building; no one has ever been this relieved to see him in his entire life. "It worked."
"I'll take your word for it." She's alone, thirteen, and it's nine at night; there's no explanation for this that would make it retroactively okay for him to make her give it on his doorstep. She's shivering. "You okay with stairs?"
"Yeah."
"Cool, I'm on the fourth floor."
She follows him up without comment, and his brain scrambles for explanations. If she's thirteen, he was fourteen when she was born, which is three years before he lost his virginity. She's way too young to be his daughter, and there's no way she's another sister; his mother couldn't have hidden that.
"Are you hungry?" he asks, when they get inside. "Thirsty? Need a blanket?"
She smiles a little. "Water would be nice."
He fills a glass from the pitcher in the fridge and hands it over, watches as she drains half in one long chug.
"Thanks."
"No problem. When do you want to start explaining?"
She finishes the water and he refills it. Grocery day is Saturday, so his fridge isn't in great shape, but he finds some cheese and crackers and puts them out for her.
"I don't know how," she says, worrying her lip as she stares at the plate.
"You can start with why you came to me."
"Clarke told me to."
Bellamy's stomach drops. "Clarke? What does--how do you know Clarke?"
"I don't exactly--it's not what you're thinking."
It's nice of her to assume he's thinking anything, because mostly his brain is stuck in the mud. Clarke Griffin is his lost love in that tragic, romantic way he doesn't think is really supposed to exist, the way from movies and books. She was the rich girl from the right side of the tracks, and he'd been the poor kid trying so hard to make it. Even after two years, he still wonders if they could have figured it out, if they'd had just a little bit more luck, if they'd both tried a little harder.
Sometimes, he still thinks they could, if he could just figure out how to call her up and the right words to say.
"So why don't you tell me what it is?"
She exhales, takes a few more deep breaths. "I'm from the future. Clarke sent me back to try to fix things. To--make things better. To save the world, I guess."
On the one hand, she's obviously right; it's not what he was thinking. It's also absurd and unreal and--impossible. He's not in a fucking Terminator movie. People do not come back from the future to save the world. It's not a thing.
"And she sent you to me?" he finally asks. "Why me?"
"Because she knew that if she sent you a thirteen-year-old girl, you'd help. And she thought--if she sent me to you, and we found her together, it would definitely change the future. One way or another."
"Because we're not together in the future either?" he asks. It's not exactly a surprise, but some part of him thought they might figure it out, one of these days. He'd like to.
"No, you're not."
"Okay, so--no offense, but is there a single reason I should believe any of this?"
She worries her lip. If she hadn't brought Clarke up, it probably wouldn't remind him of her, but maybe it would. Maybe everything always will. "She said the two of you went to a sushi place called Toro for your first date, and you couldn't afford it, but you wanted to impress her. That was what you had your first fight about, when she found out. And the next date after that, you brought Octavia with you instead of finding a babysitter, to prove a point."
He turns the information over in his head. "How far in the future?"
"Twenty years."
"And you're her daughter?"
"Yeah."
"Not mine." He's sure, but he needs her to say it.
"Not yours."
"She must have had someone better to send you back to," he finally says. "I can't be the only person she met in twenty years who likes kids."
"You're not, but--this seemed like the best option."
"But you can't tell me why."
"Not yet," says Madi. "I just--I don't feel like it's time, yet. To tell you everything."
"So you're just going to be Clarke's cryptic daughter from the future, and I'm supposed to put up with that?"
"We need to find Clarke," says Madi. "And then we can figure it out."
"Why didn't you find her first?" he asks. "Why do you need me? She wouldn't turn you away either."
"I thought it would be better like this. You first, and then we find her, and then--" She worries her lip. "Then we fix stuff."
"Stuff like what?"
"Everything we can."
It sounds like the kind of fantasy he would have come up with in a fever dream, him and his ex-girlfriend uniting with a girl from the future to save the world. It's definitely some kind of bullshit, some trick, but--
But maybe it's not. Maybe this is somehow real. It's not like it being true is much more bizarre than it being a lie, all things considered.
"I guess that's a good place to start," he says, because what else is he supposed to say? He can't just turn her out on the street. "Come on, I'll show you where you can sleep."
*
He calls in sick to work the next day and only feels a little guilty. It's Friday, and none of his classes have anything terribly vital going on. It's not something he can do every day, but this does qualify as a special occasion. The most special occasion
"I don't even know if she still lives around here," he admits. "She might have started her residency already? I don't remember how the timing on med school works."
"She's still around," says Madi, sure. "You move, she doesn't."
"I move?"
"You meet another girl and leave."
"Clarke has a kid," he points out. "I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one moving on."
"I didn't say you were. I just said in the future, you don't live here anymore. Or you didn't, for a while. But Clarke always stayed."
"Thanks for the update. Do you know her address?"
"No."
"She didn't tell you?"
"She said she lived a lot of places. And we weren't sure exactly when I'd come back to."
It's not like it has to be a lie. But he just--he can't help it. It feels a little too much like bullshit.
"Seriously," he says, crossing his arms. "Why me? What am I bringing to this that Clarke can't?"
"It's easy to change," she says, finally. "Easy to fix."
"What are you fixing, exactly?"
"You guys didn't talk for like--I don't even know how long. But as soon as you saw each other again, you got along again. So if you--"
"If we what?" he prompts.
"Maybe if you just saw each other now, it would be enough. Maybe if you were friends, the world would be better."
"You aren't worried you're going to accidentally erase your own existence?"
"Why would I be?"
"Hooking your mom up with her ex-boyfriend is pretty risky."
"She's my mom, that doesn't mean she gave birth to me. I'm adopted. You and Clarke don't have anything to do with whether or not I get born."
If he's honest, it makes him feel worse. Clarke probably had someone, at least a few significant others in that time, but if he gets married and she doesn't--that makes him itch.
Luckily, it's not the only thing he has to focus on. "You really think if Clarke and I get back together, it's going to save the world?"
"I didn't say that," she protests. "I just know it's a difference. You two being together, instead of being apart. Not, like, dating," she adds. "Just--together."
If the world is ending in twenty years, that's not really that long. Not when you get down to it.
And if the world is ending in twenty years, he'd like it if he and Clarke at least talked again first.
"Okay," he says. "I have a number for her. No idea if it still works, but--worth giving her a call, right?"
"I'm sorry I don't know how to find her. I thought you would."
"I think I can figure it out."
When he and Clarke broke up, he took her off his favorite contacts, but deleting her number entirely felt stupid. He didn't think he'd be tempted to call her against his better judgment, and if she wanted to get in touch, he wanted to know about it.
It's been two years, since he talked to her. Two years since she was the first person he got in touch with when he needed something.
The call rings through to voicemail: "Hi, this is Clarke. I'm not available, please leave a message and I'll get back to you."
Bellamy tugs his hand through his hair. "Hey, it's Bellamy. I really need to talk to you. It's weird, you don't want to miss out."
Madi just raises her eyebrows at him, and he huffs.
"What?"
"It's weird. You're like I thought you'd be, but not."
"Yeah? What am I like in the future?"
"Tired. Everyone's tired. And--resigned. I don't think the last twenty years were great for you."
"So it's all downhill from here, huh?"
"Not if we make it better."
He has to smile. "Okay, so, how am I different than what you thought?"
"I guess I thought you must not like Clarke as much as she liked you, because if you did, you guys would still be friends."
"It's hard to be friends with someone you're still a little in love with."
"So you didn't even try?"
He sighs. "I'm trying now, aren't I? And she didn't try either," he can't help adding. "It's not like she's been--"
In perfect sitcom timing, his phone starts to buzz, the display lighting up with the name Clarke Griffin.
"Shit," he says.
"Shit?"
"Now I have to talk to her. Hey," he says, picking up the call.
"Hey."
She sounds the same as ever, a little wary, maybe, but that's an important part of Clarke. She's always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Are you on your way to class?"
"Not yet. I was in the shower when you called. What is it?"
"An emergency. Not--it's urgent, but not life-threatening. I called out of work, can you get out of whatever you've got today?"
The silence stretches, but finally she says, "You called out?"
"I made them get a sub last-minute and everything."
"Yeah, I can get out of class. Should I come--where are we meeting? Somewhere near you?"
"My place might be best. Privacy."
It feels like a step too far as soon as he's said it, but Clarke just says, "Yeah, I can do that. Are you still in the suburbs?"
"Yeah, same place."
"Cool. Give me forty minutes."
He stares at the phone for a long minute after he hangs up, not quite believing it. Maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise; if Clarke called him with an emergency, he'd be at her place on the double too.
But he's still a little bit in love with her. He didn't think the sentiment was mutual.
"She's on her way."
"When did you two break up?" Madi asks, sounding curious.
"Shouldn't you already know that?"
"You think Clarke told me the exact timeline?"
"She told you about our first date."
"I needed proof, not your total history. She said you guys got together in college and broke up a few years after she graduated. How old are you now?"
"Twenty-seven. We broke up two years ago. And we were both in college, but different colleges. I was just doing part time."
"Because you were broke."
"And taking care of my sister, yeah."
"She said it was mutual. When you broke up."
He snorts. "Yeah, it was."
It was the kind of mutual where they broke up because neither of them was willing to admit they wanted to stay together, some sort of fucked up relationship chicken where neither of them was willing to point out the one big reason to try to make it work: that they loved each other.
Except he doesn't actually know that. He never made the argument, so he doesn't know if it would have worked. He doesn't know she still loved him; she doesn't know she isn't happier without him.
"Breakfast?" he asks Madi, and she nods.
He makes enough for Clarke too, even if he's not sure she'll eat, and greets her at the door with a mug of coffee that he nearly drops at the sight of her. She's always been, well, beautiful, but the last two years have been good to her. She cut her hair and figured out a more flattering wardrobe and he missed her like there was something pressing against his chest and he didn't even realize it.
He'd thought he knew how much he still loved Clarke Griffin, but apparently he was wrong.
"Hi," he says, and offers the coffee.
She smiles and takes the mug, despite her protest of, "I did have coffee before I left."
"Did you stop being addicted to caffeine?"
Her mouth twitches. "Thanks for the coffee, Bellamy."
"You're going to need it."
"Yeah, I'm pretty curious what's so bad you called in sick and called me."
"She's in the living room."
"Octavia?"
His heart twists up; she sounds so worried. That must be the explanation that she came up with, that something had happened to his sister, and he called her to help deal with it.
It's not a bad theory. He probably would have, if it came to that. And she would have come.
She did come. No questions asked.
He gestures her through to the living room. "No, not Octavia. This is Madi."
Madi sits bolt upright, staring like she's seen a ghost, and it probably is weirder, seeing her mom like this, twenty years younger with no recognition in her eyes, than it was to see him.
But she's still polite, offering a smile and her free hand, even as Madi just gapes at her. "Hi, Madi."
"She's your daughter from the future," Bellamy says, just to get it out of the way. And honestly, there's a part of him that's hoping she'll talk him out of believing it, that she'll be able to poke holes in the story. If Clarke can come up with some other explanation, he's all ears.
For a long second, she doesn't say anything, until she finally asks, "Is this one of those things where when she's being bad, she's my daughter? Or are you not her father?"
He has to swallow a few times to get his voice back. "I'm not, apparently."
"So why did my daughter from the future come to my ex-boyfriend for help?"
"I don't know why you're asking me, Madi's the one who showed up at my door last night." But she still looks a little too discombobulated, so he takes point on the explanation anyway. "She says--the future is bad. And she's here to try to fix it."
"Starting with us?"
"I didn't think you'd trust me," Madi says, finally finding her own voice. "Not all by myself. You told me that I should try to convince Bellamy first, because he's a sucker for kids."
Clarke snorts, a small, involuntary sound. "Good call, future self."
"She told me about our first date," he says. "But I figure she has some more compelling dirt on you."
"Yeah?" Clarke asks, a challenge, and Madi studies her for a minute.
"Bellamy asked you if you could miss class because he doesn't know you dropped out of med school."
His eyes snap to Clarke. "What?"
Madi ignores him. "Your mom started working for a company you don't like and you were worried. You guys had a fight after--you were in a bad place between her job and you and Bellamy having issues, so after you and him broke up, you picked a fight with her and ended up leaving school. You want to go back, but you feel like if you do, you're admitting you were wrong." Her pause is deliberate. "You feel that way about a lot of stuff."
Clarke is staring, slack-jawed. It's a lot more personal than their first date.
"You don't go back," Madi adds. "In my future. Maybe if you do here, that would help."
There's an edge of hysteria in her laugh. "You're telling me if I finish med school, I could save the world? Now you sound like my mom."
"If you change little things, maybe the big things won't happen the same way either," says Madi.
"Chaos theory," Bellamy supplies. "Just like Jeff Goldblum said. Sit down, Clarke. If you pass out, no one else has medical training."
She smiles a little, slumping down onto the couch like his words reminded her that her legs couldn't support her. "I can't believe I'm supposed to be able to save the world."
"Wouldn't you try?" Madi asks. "If the world was ending, you'd do everything you could. That's what you're doing. In my future. Once you figure out what you can do."
"What can I do?"
"I don't know if I should tell you yet."
"So, what, you come back all this way to ask for our help, and you're not even going to tell us what we need to do?" Bellamy asks. "That seems like kind of a waste of time travel."
"Maybe I don't need to. Maybe if I come back, that changes enough, and you don't have to find out what happened."
He and Clarke exchange a look, as natural as breathing, and he knows she's thinking the same thing he is. She's the one to ask, "How would you know?"
"If stuff starts being different."
"Would your mom let you get away with that answer?"
A smile tugs at Madi's mouth. "No. But--do you really want to know all the bad things that might be coming? Maybe they won't. Maybe this is enough."
"Maybe it's enough for this morning," Bellamy says, careful. The hesitant smile mostly served to demonstrate how Madi seems; it hadn't actually occurred to him, how much worse this would be for her. They're getting weird visions of some shitty future; Madi lives there, and now here she is, reunited with a mother who doesn't remember her, who doesn't trust her. "You want to watch TV while me and Clarke freak out in the kitchen?"
This smile is stronger. "Do you have Star Wars?"
He gets her set up on the couch with hot chocolate and A New Hope, which he has to buy on Amazon, but whatever, he can afford it. She looks happy, and he and Clarke close the kitchen door, just looking at each other for a long moment.
"You believe her?" Clarke finally asks.
"Honestly, I don't know what else to do. I don't think anyone would make this up to fuck with me. If someone did, you're honestly the best candidate."
"I probably am. And you can't be making it up to fuck with me, because you didn't know about med school."
He swallows hard. "Yeah, I didn't. I keep wanting to ask why not, but--I know why not."
"Yeah."
He clears his throat. "So--she thinks that if we're friends again, it might save the world."
"I'm trying to convince myself that there's no way anyone would send a kid through time to Parent Trap us."
"Depending on your opinions on the nature of time travel--"
She laughs, bright and surprised, his favorite of Clarke's laughs. The one where he caught her completely off her guard. "How many opinions do you have on the nature of time travel?"
"You never thought about it?"
"Apparently not like you did."
He leans against the counter. "I'm not saying she's lying, because all of my understanding of time travel is theoretical and based on, like--pop culture. I'm not going to pretend I'm an expert."
"Got it."
"The problem is that if Madi changes the world, how does she know that she needs to come back and change the world? What if the changes she makes mean she doesn't exist, or the time machine doesn't, or you never adopt her? Then she won't be there to come back and do this for us. The most coherent theory of time-travel I ever saw was--it had to have already happened. So either she is coming back to Parent Trap us, because she already did, or I don't get time travel."
"What if her coming back just--unmoored her?" Clarke asks, sounding thoughtful. "What if she creates a new timeline without erasing herself?"
A wave of fondness washes over him; it took Clarke roughly thirty seconds to figure out her own counter-theory of time travel. Of course it did.
"Maybe she created an alternate dimension," he says. "Bellamy and Clarke in timeline one are doomed, but Madi got out and she's trying to save timeline two."
"Cheerful."
"Sorry, I'm having trouble with time-travel logistics." He rubs his face. "What are we supposed to do?"
"Apparently I need to go back to med school."
"Maybe it's really is zombies, and you're trying to find the cure." He rubs the back of his neck. "I really don't get how I'm involved."
"Parent Trap."
"I'm not her dad."
"Did she tell you who was?"
"She's adopted. All she said was you were her mom."
"But if this is a new timeline, it doesn't matter. Maybe she doesn't need to worry about what happens to her in the future, she's just planning to stay here."
He rubs his face. "Fuck, what are we going to do with her?"
"What did you do with her last night?"
"Gave her my bed and slept on the couch."
"Of course you did," she says, a smile ghosting on her lips.
"I don't know if she's even planning to go back," he admits. "She hasn't said anything about timelines."
"Maybe she doesn't understand how time travel works either."
He snorts. "Probably not."
"What do you think happens?" she asks, soft. "To the world."
"I don't know. But it sounds like--whatever it is, we're fighting it together. And that's what--she thinks that if we're friends again, it would help. That would be cool."
"Being friends again?"
"Yeah. But also--if that's all I have to do to save the world--"
That makes her laugh. "It does feel a little too easy."
"I didn't know we were that important."
"It is my daughter," Clarke points out. "She's probably biased."
"I do miss you," he admits.
"I miss you too." She bites her lip, and his heart leaps to his throat, like a physical manifestation of hope. "We should go talk to her. Figure out what to do next."
They're figuring it out together; that's enough for now. "Yeah. Time to save the world."
*
Madi's asleep when they get back to the living room, but Star Wars is still going, so the two of them watch the rest of the movie. She stirs awake during the lightsaber fight at the end, but doesn't say anything until the credits are rolling.
"What are you going to do with me?"
"How long are you staying?" Bellamy asks. "Is this, like, you have a week to do everything you can, or you go back when you're ready, or--"
"I don't know if I can go back."
"But you came anyway," says Clarke.
"I was going to die if I stayed. Everyone was. It wasn't much of a choice. This way--maybe things will be better."
It's a sobering thought; Bellamy can't actually quite wrap his mind around it. What would it be like, to be thirteen years old and convinced that throwing yourself twenty years into the past was the only possible option? However weird this is for him, it must be so much stranger for Madi.
"So you're just planning to stay?" Clarke asks.
"I know it's a pain."
"That's not what I was thinking," she says, putting her arm around Madi. "Just--is that really okay? Do you want to stay with us?"
"Yeah."
"With both of us?" Bellamy asks. When both Clarke and Madi turn to him with identical looks of betrayal, he holds up his hands. "I'm not saying I don't want to help, of course I do. But I didn't know if you two still needed me."
"Definitely. We need a plan," says Clarke. "Do we enroll her in school? Does she need papers? I don't know if she can live with me, I have roommates. Raven and Niylah probably aren't going to be okay with her moving in."
"That's what you get for living in the city," Bellamy teases, and Clarke rolls her eyes.
"Yeah, if I was willing to live in the boonies--"
"It's a good school district." He regards her, thoughtful. "Do you still have money, or is dropping out of med school because you're fighting with your mom one of those things that gets you disinherited?"
"I have savings, from my dad. Why?"
"She can stay with me, but I'm going to need some child-support payments. And some identification."
"I bet Raven can do something with records," Madi pipes up. "Or Monty. Do you know Monty yet?"
Bellamy pulls a face. "Miller's new boyfriend Monty?" He seems like a nice guy so far, but Bellamy doesn't really feel like they're at the can you hack government records for Clarke's future daughter level of friendship.
"Monty used to date Miller?" Madi asks, which is also a little upsetting. They seemed really good together; Bellamy was hoping they were going to last.
"He still is," Clarke says. "I assume."
"As far as I know, yeah," Bellamy confirms.
"Okay, so--let's not talk about stuff that happens in your future like it's going to happen in ours. Maybe our Miller doesn't break up with Monty."
"And either way, I don't think we can explain this whole thing to him."
"Raven would probably think it's cool," says Clarke. "I can get her over here this weekend, see what she thinks. You know her in the future too?"
"She's the one who got the time machine working."
Clarke grins. "Of course she was. I bet if we tell her that, she'll do whatever we need." She nods once, like this is all going according to plan, and turns her smile on Bellamy. It's a lot to take. "Okay, we should make a list of stuff we need, figure out what we're doing. Plan for a long stay, right?"
Madi smiles a little. "As long as I can, yeah."
"Is that okay, Bellamy? Her staying with you for now? I'll help, obviously, but--"
"Yeah, I don't mind." It doesn't exactly sound ideal, but--if he's gaining a kid from the future and getting to see Clarke again regularly, it's still way more good than bad. And he likes Madi. She seems pretty competent. "Is that okay with you?" he asks Madi. "I couldn't tell if--I know it's not the same as staying with Clarke."
"No, that's fine," she says. "Perfect."
On the one hand, it does feel a little like a Parent Trap scenario, where Madi is convinced that him and Clarke reconciling, either as friends or more, is important, meaningful somehow. She's probably glad that she has to stay with him, to make sure he'll be involved.
On the other hand, it's not as if he doesn't want to spend more time with Clarke. He would love if she was visiting all the time to check in on Madi, to hang out, to see how the future was looking.
"Yeah," he agrees. "Perfect."
*
"You're the ex?" Raven Reyes says, looking Bellamy up and down. "No wonder she's not over you."
"Thanks?" The sentiment is appreciated, but he's not quite sure what to do with it. He's got a lot going on right now.
"It didn't sound like you guys were having sex all day, though."
"None of the day, actually. We've got some bigger stuff going on."
She clucks her tongue. "Yeah, Clarke sounded pretty frazzled. What happened?"
It would be nice if this was the last time Bellamy had to explain that Clarke's daughter had traveled back in time to come live in his remodeled office, but he's not optimistic. They still haven't come up with a better explanation for where she came from.
"In the future, you make a time machine and send Clarke's kid back in time so she can tell us really small things we can do to try to fix her shitty timeline."
Raven considers this. "How do I make the time machine?"
"How would I know? You can ask Madi, if you want." He pauses; Clarke's description of Raven was intimidatingly hot and smart, which seems accurate so far, but it didn't give him a great idea of how she's react to the time-travel thing. "That's your question?"
"I assume you and Clarke already vetted the kid and you believe she's telling the truth. So, yeah, I want to know how to make the time machine and how it works."
"That might count as something you're not supposed to do for the good of the future. But there's only one way to find out."
As promised, Raven doesn't demand proof of Madi's story, but she has a lot more specific questions about the future and the apocalypse than Bellamy came up with. After all, he was curious about all the bad stuff that happened, but it felt more important to get Madi sorted out and in contact with Clarke than to get the secrets of the future.
And, if he's honest, he's not sure he wants to know. The more he thinks about it, the less he likes the knowledge he already has, that Miller and Monty are breaking up, that he and Clarke were supposed to be out of touch for decades, that he met someone new and moved somewhere else.
And, okay, that isn't bad, really, but he doesn't like the itchy feeling of thinking about the life he would have had if Madi didn't show up. If he's honest, he doesn't like knowing that he would have really let this go, that he wouldn't have reached out to Clarke. That he would have eventually moved on.
It should be comforting, but as soon as he saw her again, it felt unthinkable. This is Clarke.
Madi, at least, gets it. "You told me like a thousand times to be really careful about how much I said about the future," she tells Raven. "Just enough to change things, not enough to make you guys--weird."
"No winning lottery tickets or anything?" Bellamy asks.
"Honestly, that would be a pretty great way to get the world changed," Raven muses. "If I had a shit-ton of money--"
"I don't think lottery winners really survived what happened. It's more just--advice on what evil companies to not work with. But maybe they'll be different."
"I still can't believe we sent you back with this shitty a plan," says Raven. "No offense. I just figured we'd write ourselves letters or something. Like, a list of warning signs that the apocalypse is coming and how to fix it."
Madi bites the corner of her mouth, and Clarke sits down next to her, close. "Do you have that? Because--I know you want to keep us from worrying too much, but not having anything specific to do makes it worse."
"It's nothing soon," says Madi. "It's--there are ten whole years before the first one. So there's no rush."
"Why ten years?" Clarke asks. "There's nothing we can do before that?"
"No." She exhales. "The first time you sent me back, I just went ten years. And it was too late. Not--if I had talked to you, it would have been fine, but you wouldn't listen to me. I couldn't even get close. I had to go back earlier."
"So you have to kill ten years here before you can tell us anything, and you might wink out of existence any time?" Raven asks. Clarke glares, but she just shrugs. "Come on, she's not born yet. I don't know exactly how time-travel works, but we're all worrying about it, right? What happens to her if we change the timeline and she goes away? Then the whole thing is pointless, unless we're really involved in the apocalypse."
"You're not," Madi protests. "It's not you. And it--maybe it won't be anyone."
"We can stop it," Bellamy says, slow. "Because we know who does it. We know the people who are involved in whatever happens. That's why we're--that's why you came to us."
"Not just that."
"My mom's shitty company," Clarke says, a sudden revelation.
"Octavia." He doesn't have any idea what apocalyptic shit she'd be involved in, but it has to be Octavia. If it's not Clarke, there's no one else that makes sense.
Madi slumps. "I didn't want to tell you. They might not do anything wrong. Maybe it's different."
"What if it's not?" Clarke asks, gentle. "We need to be ready. In case--in case it does happen, but not like you remember. Maybe things will happen more quickly this time."
All the blood drains from Madi's face. "Do you think I made it worse?"
"I didn't say that. Just--we really don't know what's going to happen. This could make things better or worse. So if we know--"
"If you know, it could be worse."
"I know," says Clarke. "But if we don't, then you did all this for nothing."
Bellamy knows the whole world doesn't hold its breath as Madi thinks it over, but he, Clarke, and Raven do, which is a high enough percentage of the world for his purposes.
"Okay," Madi says, finally. "Clarke was right: it starts with One World."
*
They let Madi talk for a while, asking questions after dinner, getting as much information as they can, and then, once she's gone to sleep, Bellamy breaks out the vodka.
"It does sound like we could stop it," says Raven, breaking the silence. "Like, you don't need a ton of people to realize that's a bad idea. Universal cure my ass."
"If I go back to med school, maybe they'll hire me."
Bellamy huffs. "You want to work for the evil corporation that releases a pandemic?"
"If it really was an accident, then yeah. If I get on the project--"
Raven shakes her head. "Something like that isn't an accident. Not that much of one. They were trying to do biochemical warfare and it went wrong. And they're still doing it, you heard what Madi said. They took people out and seized power in the aftermath."
"That does sound like what happened," Bellamy admits. "Sorry, Clarke."
She rubs her face. "It's my mom."
"And my sister." He'd never really approved of Octavia joining the military, but he hadn't thought she'd stay, or get involved in--whatever she's involved in.
Clarke gives him a weary smile. "I know. We have ten years to talk them out of it."
"More than that. That's just our first checkpoint." He rubs his face. "Jesus. I can't believe our families are going to destroy the world."
"At least it makes sense why Madi thought us being friends again would help," says Clarke. "It sounds like we figured out we were on the same side after the first pandemic hit. But if I suspected my mom--"
"And I suspected my sister, we would have put it together."
"Yeah. And now we're extra ready, so--maybe I can talk my mom into non-profits."
"Maybe I can get O back together with one of her pacifist exes. For someone who likes military service she dated a lot of hippies."
Clarke frowns. "I liked Lincoln, did they break up?"
"Yeah. She didn't want to do long distance."
"Definitely try to get that going again."
"And we've got enough time I can figure out how to hack into your mom's company's systems and destroy their research if I need to," says Raven. "Once I get Madi some legit identification papers." She narrows her eyes. "You guys are really going to keep her?"
Bellamy hadn't thought of it in those exact terms before, but if Clarke is caught off guard she shows no sign of it. "What else are we supposed to do? Until you build another time machine, we can't send her back."
"I can't believe it got so bad my best move was sending a teenager back in time."
"At least you could do it," says Clarke.
"Yeah, well, I'm amazing." She stretches. "Okay, kids. I need to go home. This much weird shit, my brain needs to shut down and process. Clarke, you coming or staying?"
She looks torn, frowning at Bellamy. "I don't want to leave you alone with Madi"
"Unless you're planning on moving in, you're going to have to get used to it."
"I know. You sure you'll be all right?"
"She's way less of a pain than O was at her age. You can come over tomorrow," he adds, with a smile. "We're not going anywhere. We can talk about how we want to start saving the world."
"I'm holding you to that."
"I don't mind. Just let me know when I can get her in school and I'll be set."
"Okay." She bites the corner of her mouth, and Raven clears her throat.
"I'm gonna go get my stuff ready," she says. "See you in a few."
In a movie, Bellamy thinks he'd kiss Clarke now, and maybe he should. Maybe his life is close enough to being a movie that it's the right call. But--even if Raven's right, and Clarke's not over him, that doesn't mean she wants to get back together.
It takes a while to recover from a hard breakup, even when it's the right thing. And it's not like they're going to stop talking; he doesn't have to do everything tonight.
So he asks, "You doing okay?"
"Better knowing what happens. It's not--" A smile tugs at her lips. "It's not good news, but we have ten years before our first warning signs. It's not--maybe we can keep those versions of my mom and your sister from ever existing. Maybe we won't have to really deal with that."
"Maybe." He reaches out to squeeze her arm. "Get some sleep, okay? It's going to be fine. We can do this."
"Are you really okay?" she asks.
"Jesus, no, I'm a mess. But I'm going to be."
That makes her laugh, just a soft little huff.
"I guess that's about as good as it gets right now."
"If we believe her, it's a second chance," he says. "If we don't--it's probably still good."
"What if she's lying?" Clarke asks, soft. "What if--maybe we're the bad guys, and she's here to make sure we fuck everything up?"
"If she's here to make sure we make all the same shitty choices we do in the future, it's too late," he says. "That means it already happened and everything we do is already done."
"Comforting."
"Time travel. And you didn't like this place before, right? The One World place? It was shitty enough you dropped out of med school, that's a big deal."
"I could have been wrong about that too."
"Maybe. Look--if we can change stuff, we are. And if we can't, all we can do is our best. If I think you're bringing the world closer to a mass extinction event, I promise I'll tell you."
This laugh is stronger. "Yeah, okay. You too. See you tomorrow?"
If he's going to bring about the end of the world somehow, at least he'll do it with Clarke. That's some small comfort.
"Yeah. Sleep well."
*
Life doesn't go back to normal after that, but he does get a new normal. Raven gets Madi an identity somehow, and he tells everyone she's a distant cousin, someone who found him only because social services was desperate. He didn't know she existed either, but she's family is all the excuse any of his friends need to accept that he's a foster parent now.
It's his being friends with Clarke again that gives them more trouble.
"You guys aren't together?" Emori asks, frowning.
Bellamy takes a sip of beer. Madi is hanging out with Clarke tonight. "We're together, but we're not dating."
"How?"
"What do you mean how? Not dating someone is easy. I'm not dating most people."
"You're in love with Clarke, though," says Miller. According to Madi, he gets involved in security for One World at some nebulous point in the future, and Bellamy is planning to make sure that doesn't happen.
And keep him and Monty from breaking up. They're good together.
"Yeah, I got really lucky with this one." He sighs. "Look, I'm not denying I'm hoping this is going to work out for me. If me and Clarke spending more time together ends up with us dating again, I'll be thrilled. But even if it doesn't--I like her, I'm happy she's back in my life."
"Aww," says Emori, smiling. "That's sweet."
"That's pathetic," says Miller, and Bellamy raises his beer.
"It is, thanks."
He doesn't feel pathetic, though, not most of the time. After all, he knows the other reason he's hanging out with Clarke, that they're a team again, albeit a very weird team, and one he sometimes feels guilty for not explaining. He could tell Octavia where she might be heading, or Miller, but he doesn't know how. He can't believe there are three of them who really believe this is happening, and the three of them are supposed to be on the right side of the pandemic. If he told Octavia he thought she was going to be involved in hardcore biological warfare, she'd probably do it just to spite him.
So instead, the official story is that Clarke was involved with Madi in a volunteer program, which even makes sense, since she's thinking about going into social work. She was the one who supposedly made the connection between Madi's family and Bellamy's, and that got the two of them talking again. It's not true, but it gives them an excuse to be, essentially, co-parenting, and that's most of the impact Madi has on their lives. Bellamy has a list of things he's worried about somewhere in the back of his head, but aside from sending his sister articles about the military-industrial complex that he assumes she doesn't read, he doesn't have much of an action plan.
Honestly, it's kind of an improvement to his overall life and mental state, as fucked up as that is. After all, having a specific idea of what might go wrong with the world and concrete steps he can take to help prevent that is better than just wondering what's going to go wrong.
"Which means we're probably going to be focusing on this and some other shitty thing happens," he tells Clarke. She's hanging out on his couch, waiting for Madi to get home from a study session. He's glad to say that she's taking to getting to be an actual kid like a duck to water; it feels like every day, she believes a little more that her plan worked, that the future is going to be better.
Clarke smiles at him, looking fondly amused. "There's that Bellamy Blake pessimism."
"It's not pessimism, it's just--practicality. You're the one who thinks Madi might be playing a long-con to turn us evil."
"I don't think she is," she admits, sounding wistful. "Not anymore. I think she's really happy. But--"
"Here's that Clarke Griffin pessimism."
"Aren't you worried she's going to disappear? Write herself out of existence?"
"Yeah," he admits. "But I don't know what we can do about that. We just--we keep her for as long as we can, and if she knows her birth parents' names, maybe we just--look them up in seven years, if she's gone. To make sure they had her, and figure out if she needs to get adopted. Unless she made it easy and told you how you ended up with her."
"My parents worked for One World," says Madi, and both he and Clarke jump. She gives them a petulant look. "You never asked."
"Yeah, well, you aren't exactly forthcoming about it," Bellamy says. But he adds, "Sorry. We weren't trying to talk about you behind your back."
Madi sits down on her favorite chair, watching the two of them on the couch. Bellamy's aware that they're close and he was, as always, wondering what Clarke would do if he kissed her. Which he's pretty sure Madi knows.
Then again, everyone kind of knows.
"When Clarke didn't go back to med school, she did get involved in social work," she explains. "So when my parents died in testing for the panacea, she ended up fostering me and then adopting me. We wondered later if her mom had something to do with my placement, because they gave me--I think I survived because of what they were doing. And I might have kept Clarke safe too."
"So if One World is better, then your parents won't die in the first place," says Clarke. "And we don't have to worry about how we'll have two identical daughters."
Madi doesn't even smile. "Remember how I said I tried to go ten years back, to change things then?"
Bellamy and Clarke exchange a look; he's the one to move, making room between them on the couch for her, and she does take the spot.
Clarke's the one to says, "Yeah, we remember."
"You sent me there because you thought it would be safer, if I went to a--if I was already alive, I couldn't erase myself, but I wouldn't be in danger of seeing myself, like one of you would. And when it didn't work, you wouldn't let me go back farther. You said it was too dangerous, that I'd get myself--that the farther back I went, the riskier it would be. That's why I can't go back, because you didn't--I programmed the machine myself, and I set it up as a one-way trip."
It's a strange kind of secret, the kind where Madi must have felt like she had to keep it, like she's coming clean now, but he and Clarke aren't really the ones who can forgive her or absolve her. This Clarke didn't tell her not to go; this Clarke doesn't know anything. The Clarke who didn't want Madi to go back twenty years might not exist either, or doesn't exist in this timeline.
"They can't get you back?" Clarke finally asks.
Madi shakes her head. "I made sure they couldn't."
"That was really brave of you," Bellamy offers.
"It wasn't. If I didn't go, I'd die anyway. If I stop existing, it's fine, it's--at least I did something good."
Clarke wraps her up in hug. "You did something amazing, Madi. I'm sure the future me is pissed, but--I'm proud of you too. And you're ours," she adds. "For as long as--forever. Every Madi in the world."
They watch a movie, Madi snuggled between the two of them, and Clarke stays the night, sleeping on the couch like she always insists she will, instead of taking his bed. So it's not until he's picking her up from school the next day that he and Madi are alone, and that's when she says, "You know why it didn't work? When I just went ten years."
"No. Why?"
"Because of you. That's what I realized. Clarke told me that if I couldn't get to her, I should talk to you. And I managed to get to you, on the other side of the country, and I didn't--I didn't know how to talk to you. You had this wife and a dog and you were happy. When I said Clarke needed your help, you just said--you gave me your sister's number because she was living in Boston, and offered me plane fare."
"Fuck, that's what I said to a fucking thirteen-year-old kid?"
She smiles a little. "I looked way less pathetic that time. I learned. And all I said was I needed to get in touch with her, I didn't think I should tell you everything right away. And then--I didn't know how to tell you everything else. I didn't know how to make that you believe me."
"Honestly, you fucked up my whole life so hard, I can't even imagine ten years down the line with a wife and a dog."
"You don't want a dog? We could totally get a dog."
"Okay, yeah, but--I don't know. It's so weird to me that I had this whole other life where I moved to California and got a dog and told you that you should get in touch with Octavia if you needed to talk to Clarke." He wets his lips. "Did you ask me about it? In the future."
"Yeah. You said you didn't remember it happening. So Raven thinks--probably when I go back, it makes a new future. There are two really similar worlds, one where I met you in 2028, and one where I didn't. And now I think this is a third world, and it's going to be really different, at least for us. So I could never save my world, but--my world was ending no matter what. But I can save yours. That's what I want to think. And maybe I'll dissolve or something, I don't know. Maybe I'll go back to my world. But I still think I did something good."
"You did." He squeezes her shoulders. "Clarke was right, you did something amazing."
"And I made it in time, right? You're still in love with her. You guys can still--that can still happen, in this timeline."
"I don't know what to say to her," he admits.
"Well, figure it out," says Madi. "I want a dog before I blink out of existence."
*
Madi has been not blinking out of existence for almost six months when Clarke says, "So, my lease is up in two months."
"Gonna renew?" he asks, and immediately regrets it. "Sorry."
She doesn't smile. "That is kind of the question, yeah. You don't have room for me."
"If you moved in I think we'd want a bigger place, yeah. Madi wants a dog."
"I could take her," she offers. "I couldn't before, but--"
"But now you're in med school again. I don't care if you have more money, you're busy." He runs his hand through his hair. "Is that what you want? To take her yourself? How would we explain that?"
Her jaw works, and something in Bellamy's chest cracks open.
"Look, my lease isn't up until September," he says. "But we could get a bigger place after that, all three of us. Somewhere with a yard. And until then--we could upgrade the couch, get a pull-out, I could sleep there, but--" He huffs. "That's not what I want."
Clarke is watching him, face unreadable. "No?"
"Jesus, of course not. I want her to fucking Parent Trap us, I want you to move into my bed, I want to get her fucking time machine and go back to when we broke up and just--"
It's been almost three years now, of not kissing Clarke Griffin, and the relief he feels when she tugs him down, when her lips find his again, is so great it's staggering. He'd thought he might not kiss her ever again, that this wouldn't be one of the things they fixed, and he doesn't know what he would have done.
This is so much better.
His own hands settle on her waist, keeping her close, and his mouth curves into a smile for just a second before he's leaning in close, sliding his tongue against her mouth, until she opens and then it's nothing, for a long moment, except for heat and warmth and happiness.
"Two months, right?" he murmurs.
Clarke blinks, like she totally lost the thread of conversation, and he kisses her again, just a brush of lips.
"Until your lease is up."
"Oh, yeah. Two months."
"So we can date for two months and it's not like you're just immediately moving in with me."
She laughs. "We already have a kid, Bellamy. And--I spent the last three years missing you."
"Me too." He exhales, smile taking over his face. "I was still kicking myself for letting you go. Like, every day."
"And you still took six months to tell me that?"
"You didn't tell me that either."
"You broke up with me!"
"Madi says you told her it was mutual." He smiles. "It was kind of mutual. I kept waiting for one of us to say it was stupid, and then neither of us did."
"It was stupid," says Clarke, obediently. "I think we can make it work. I want to."
"I want to too. And we still have a world to save, right? I hear that's easier if we're together."
"It definitely sounds easier." She noses his neck, making a shiver run up and down his spine, in the best possible way. He's missed her so much, even though she was right here. He's been missing her for three years, and he doesn't know how much longer he would have gone on missing her, before he moved on.
From what Madi's said, he's not sure he ever did. There was always going to be some corner of him in love with Clarke Griffin and wondering how it would have gone.
"So, you're finally going to sleep in my bed, right?" he asks, and she laughs.
"Yeah. As often as possible."
"Cool." He kisses her hair. "This is definitely the best timeline."
"No question."
***
Madi Blake's twentieth birthday feels like the final test of the whole time-travel experiment, although in most ways, it's the first. They're still three years away from the first item on her list, but they've done a lot of what they can to keep that from happening already. If nothing else, Bellamy feels pretty sure that if there is a pandemic, no one he's related to will be involved, which is a good start. And he's managed to make headway in getting involved in government, which means he might someday get regulations passed and have some sort of power over policy choices. He still wants to disband One World, just to be on the safe side, and he thinks he might be able to.
He's not sure what affect it would have on his campaign if his foster-daughter suddenly ceased to exist, but she's at least legally an adult now. He could probably say she moved to Canada, if he had to.
They're all hoping he won't have to, though, and it doesn't even feel that unlikely. It's just that Madi's twentieth birthday is also her first, in some strange sense, and if it's going to be the case that only one Madi can exist, this will be when they find that out.
"I don't know why this would do it," Bellamy says. "It makes no logical sense. It makes illogical sense."
Clarke rubs her face. "I know."
He kisses her shoulder. "I'm not saying I'm not worried. Just--she's not this dimension's Madi. If we even have one, it shouldn't matter. She's here."
Clarke smiles. "Bellamy Blake optimism?"
"Bellamy Blake hope."
Madi takes the bus home from school to spend her birthday with them, and it's one of those odd celebrations where everyone is trying to be happy, but they're all just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even the dog is worried.
"It will have been worth it," Madi says, the first of them to actually address it. Her birthday isn't until tomorrow, technically, but she might not be here tomorrow. "If this is all I get, it was good."
"Yeah," says Bellamy. "But I hope you get more."
She smiles a little, leans against his shoulder. Sometimes, he and Clarke talk about kids, additional ones, but that feels like something to wait on too. Until Madi won't have to worry they're replacing her.
"You did good here," he tells her. "Even if shit goes wrong, you made all our lives better. Not just me and Clarke, but everyone. Miller and Monty have a kid. That's you."
"I know."
"And we love you," says Clarke. "Every version of us. We're all so proud."
"I know." She exhales. "Can we watch Star Wars?"
As is traditional, she falls asleep, and then Clarke does, and Bellamy's left awake, watching these two miraculous women, these two people he still feels as if he shouldn't have. Sometimes, he thinks he'll wake up in that other world, the one where he's probably happy, probably still married, still with a dog, but--not like this.
Not nearly this surreal, if nothing else.
They don't know when exactly Madi was born, but she knows her birthplace, and Raven is monitoring for them, checking birth reports even though it's five different kinds of illegal.
He's drifted off too, by the time she texts: Maxwell Lewis, born to Amy and Grant Lewis at 3:04 am. Congratulations on still having the only Madi.
Clarke stirs awake too, looks for Madi before the phone and spots her at once.
"Maxwell," he says, soft. "In this universe, she's a boy. Well, at birth, anyway."
You still have her, right?? Raven adds, and Clarke's laugh is more relief than amusement. Bellamy wraps his arm around her and kisses her hair, lets Raven know they're still all present and accounted for.
"Hey, Madi, wake up," Clarke murmurs. "You have a little brother."
She laughs. "A little brother?"
"Or a little alternate-universe time-travel twin," says Bellamy. "Either way, it's a boy, and you're still here."
"I'm still here," she says, relief sagging off her voice. "We made it?"
There are thirteen more years before they get to the day Madi came from, and none of them know how this world compares, on a global level, to the world Madi left behind. Maybe they won't make it, or some other worse thing is yet to come. Maybe Octavia's new job isn't as on-the-level as he thinks, maybe global warming is worse and the end is just as close as last time, maybe even closer.
But for today, Bellamy has his wife and his daughter and his dog, and the world feels like it's getting brighter and better.
It feels like they're doing some good, and they're going to keep doing it, and that's all the hope he needs.
"We made it," he tells her, wrapping his arm around her. "The future looks good."