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Kane didn’t know how long he’d been roaming the halls of the bunker, mulling over everything that Abby had told him. Everything she’d tearfully confessed to him as he’d grown more horrified by the minute. How she’d begged for him to stay when he stormed out of the room.
“First we survive, then we get our humanity back.” Abby had yelled. “That’s what you told me. We do whatever it takes.”
“We needed to eat to survive. I get that.” He’d responded. “But it was your wish to break them. To break me. You should have never put that on her. She’s still just a child.”
“She hasn’t been a child in a long time.”
“Clarke taught you that.” Kane had said coldly. “And you were there for her when she needed to make the hard choices. So if you’ll excuse me, there’s another lost teenage girl who needs someone to be there for her because of the choices you forced her to make.”
He’d wanted to go straight to Octavia, but was at a loss as to what to say to her. So he walked, one hall after another, covering almost the entire bunker until he finally ended up in the hallway by Octavia’s room, still none the wiser as to what to say.
Perhaps he didn’t need to say anything. He remembered when his mother had come to him when he’d been in anguish after the Culling on the Ark. She hadn’t said much, but just being there had made all the difference.
He approached Octavia’s room, where he saw Indra standing guard in front of the closed door.
Indra appraised him for a moment and returned her gaze to face forwards. “She isn’t taking any visitors.”
Kane nodded. “I understand that. But I’m afraid I must insist.”
“She’s not in the mood for one of your lectures, Kane.” Indra hissed through gritted teeth. “I suggest you leave. Now.”
“I’m not here to lecture her. I’m here to apologize to her.”
“You failed her today. We all did.”
“I know that. That’s why I need to make it right.”
Indra looked at him again. “And how exactly do you intend to do that?”
“I don’t know. But I have to try.”
Indra nodded, once, and stepped aside. “Be very careful, Kane. She’s going through something the rest of us can’t understand.”
“I do.” Kane grimaced. “I’ve been right there, in her shoes. And still, I -” He shook his head. “That’s why I need to do this.”
Indra didn’t say anything further, merely rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment as he opened the door. She dropped it as he went inside, closing it behind himself.
Kane looked around the room, looking for Octavia, searching with his eyes until he finally spotted her, curled up in a far corner of the room. She was still dressed in the same clothes she’d been wearing in the cafeteria. Her eyes rubbed red, tears stained her cheeks, but her stare was vacant as her fingers scrambled frantically through her hair, weaving one messy braid after another. She didn’t seem to register his presence.
He approached her slowly, kneeling down on the cold floor in front of her. “You haven’t done that in years. Not since Lincoln died.”
Her stare fixed on him for a brief moment, and drifted off again as her fingers sped up, hands visibly trembling. She said nothing.
“Abby told me everything.” He tried, again waiting for a response, but none came.
Kane shifted positions, moving to sit back against the wall, just a few feet away from her. They sat in silence for long minutes until Octavia finally grunted in frustration.
“If you’ve got something to say just say it.” She snarled.
“I don’t know what I can say.” Kane admitted. “Only that - I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Octavia. I should have known better. I’ve been where you are, and - I did everything wrong today. I should have realized, but I didn’t. Being here, in this bunker, we were given the right to survive Praimfaya, but that also comes with the responsibility to survive. You were right, what you said. We’re the last of the human race. I didn’t think about that, and how I’d be denying other people the right to live if I let myself starve to death. I was selfish. And I’m deeply sorry for what you had to do to make me see that.”
“I’m not the one who got shot through the heart. Apologize to them, not me.”
“It is too late for them. But it isn’t too late for you. Abby should never have forced your hand like that.”
“I still pulled the trigger. I could have said no. I could’ve, I don’t know, I - I just wanted to save my people.” Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “But I didn’t. I killed them instead. I’ve finally turned into the monster I never wanted to be.”
“Octavia, one decision does not define someone.”
“Aren’t you the one who said there was a darkness in me? Seems you’d already decided I was a monster a long time ago.”
“That was not what I meant. Yes, you let your grief consume you and you turned it into rage. But then you won the Conclave and gave us all hope. Most of all yourself. You didn’t only save us, you saved yourself. Gave yourself permission to hope again.”
“And see what that hope has turned into.” Octavia scoffed, dropping her hands from her hair, casting her glance upwards. “What would Lincoln think of me now? He’d hate me.”
“He wouldn’t. You know that Lincoln didn’t hold hate in his heart.”
“Maybe he should have. He thought we could do better, but trust and hope and faith in the goodness of humanity is what killed him.” Octavia choked back a sob, fumbling with something in her lap, which Kane belatedly realized was the same handgun she’d used in the cafeteria. “I killed him. He was only there in Arkadia because of me. Because helping me got him banished by his own clan.”
“Octavia, why do you still have the gun?” Kane asked carefully, though he feared he already knew the answer. Damn it Abby, he thought to himself. What have you done?
“Tell me I didn’t.”
“Excuse me?”
Octavia held the gun up, pointing at him, the barrel just inches away from Kane’s head, her hand trembling. “Tell me I didn’t kill Lincoln. Tell me it isn’t my fault that he’s dead.”
“You didn’t kill Lincoln. Lincoln made his own choices. He chose to sacrifice himself to save his people. That was his choice. He did many things for you, but he didn’t die because of you.”
“But those people in the cafeteria did.”
“Yes, they did. But they also made that choice, just like Lincoln did.”
Octavia whimpered, pulling the gun back and aiming it at her own head. “I am a monster. I - I’ve become him. Pike. Sending people to their deaths to control the rest. Just like he did.”
“Octavia, you are not Pike. Don’t think that. Please, give me the gun.”
“They’re dead because of me.”
“But that doesn’t make you a monster, Octavia. Please.”
“What does it make me then?”
“A girl who had to make a terrible choice to save her people. It doesn’t make you a monster. It doesn’t make you irredeemable. Please, Octavia, just give me the gun.”
“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want any of this.”
“I know. Please, Octavia. Please give me the gun. I know how you’re feeling right now. And trust me when I say that pulling that trigger won’t solve anything.”
“I won’t be in pain anymore. I’ll be with Lincoln.”
“And what’s left of the human race will descend into anarchy and destruction and death. I know it isn’t fair to put that responsibility on your shoulders, with everything else that you’re already feeling. It isn’t, and I’m truly sorry for that. But you are the only one who can keep Wonkru united. But I’ll help you. You don’t have to bear it alone.”
“Help me.” Octavia said slowly, her eyes turning angry. “You mean like Abby helped me? Her help is why I’m here!”
“No, not like that. Nothing like that. I won’t even give any input on your laws if you don’t want it.”
“Then what the hell can you do for me?” Octavia yelled, pressing the gun to the side of her head. “What can you do to make all this pain worth it?”
“Help you learn to forgive yourself. Octavia, I’ve been where you are. I was a councilor on the Ark. I sent you and the rest of the hundred to the ground so that we’d have more oxygen. I orchestrated the Culling. I sent hundreds of our people to their deaths that day because I believed the ground wasn’t survivable, and that by killing them I was saving the rest of us. I was wrong. So terribly wrong, and the guilt of that ate away at me for a long time. So much so that I almost sacrificed myself on several occasions because I didn’t want to live with the pain of what I’d done. I’d tell myself that I was doing it for my people, that if I died in this way, at least they’d be better off. But ultimately it was selfish. And I know you’re not selfish like that, Octavia. I know you won’t abandon your people like this. Let me help you. Please.”
Kane fell silent, watching Octavia carefully as she struggled within herself, a myriad of emotions passing over her face, until she finally, slowly, pulled the gun away from her head and held it out to him. He took it and threw it across the floor, and it clattered against the concrete, skittering to a stop by the door.
“Thank you.” He said. “Thank you for choosing to live.”
“So what now?” Octavia asked as tears started to stream down her face and she collapsed forward against Kane’s chest, sobs overtaking her. “What do I do now?”
Kane cradled her gently, rubbing her back. “What Lincoln taught you. What Lincoln taught all of us. Ste yuj.”