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It was Miller’s idea.
Clarke wanted them out of there as soon as they figured a way out but Miller –brave soldier boy- insists on dragging her and Monty to isolated spots in the building just in case there are other of their people they can save. Miller was the first one she told about the Grounders hidden in the space above them so maybe it was only logical he figured there could be who bled the same as them in spaces they forgot.
They find a hollow space in a hallway. Miller knocks it down with his axe, kicks it down and Monty holds up a flashlight so they can see through the dark, narrow tunnel. They hear gasping sounds towards the end and run.
Two bodies, wracking with gasps caught in their throats, backs turned to them. Monty turns them over and Clarke can’t breathe. One boy –Clarke remembers burying him after the virus- Connor and the other, the other.
“Clarke,” Wells says, voice wrecked.
Clarke cries, doesn’t care who sees. She doesn’t stop for a long while so she tells Miller to lead the charge. He can handle it.
-.-.-
Clarke doesn’t let Wells out of her sight for days, not even after they’ve found a good place to set up camp and rest before they find Bellamy, Finn and the rest. Wells doesn’t seem all that bad physically. This anomaly of a boy; impossibility wrapped inside his still beating heart. He’s still so good, still so easy with his smiles to the others who are hurt, willing to help, protective of her as she is of him, still Wells.
She doesn’t believe in miracles. Instead, investing her trust in reliable things like the way the sun will set every day or bloody cuts or danger. Miracles are flimsy. Little things children hope for when their world is still technicolour but, god, god, Wells is a miracle.
He tells her quickly, even before she asks, the Mountain Men dug up the graves at the campsite to try to reanimate them and find the cure to death. He and Connor were the only survivors from the tests and the only way the Mountain Men can ever hope to recreate the experiment –which is why they were kept away from everyone else. No one else was allowed to know they existed.
“If they survived-” Clarke says
“They’ll try to find us.” Wells nods but he smiles again, like he’s not worried. “But something tells me I’m in good hands here.”
Clarke kisses him on the forehead. “You are. You are.”
-.-.-
It’s days before they find Bellamy. It’s lucky Clarke was the only one who found him when she was out hunting because he’d never admit to anyone else that the first thing he did when he saw her was drop his gun and run towards her, arms going around her and laughing against her skin.
He looks so different now. Dozens of new scars, thinner from lack of food, so tired around the eyes.
He tells her he’s been travelling with a few others, tells her Raven was alive when he left the camp (she breathes a long sigh of relief) and, after a long pause, says that Finn didn’t make it.
“Poisoned berries,” Bellamy says. “Earth’s still killing us.”
Clarke refuses to blame Bellamy for it. He’s right. This weird Earth, the world they thought they knew, is still so capable of finding little ways of forcing them to bleed.
“Your mom is worried about you,” Bellamy says.
“I’m not going back with you,” Clarke says.
“I know you’re still mad at her. You have every right to be but we have a responsibility to our people, Clarke. Think about Raven, about the others. They still need you. We need to be together, that’s all I know. We’ll figure everything else later.”
She agrees.
-.-.-
Wells isn’t pleased to see Bellamy when Clarke brings him and the others back to their camp. Clarke expected as much.
Clarke holds a hand to Wells’ chest, holding him back.
It’s been a good few weeks, she’s not going to lie. Wells has found his place among all of them here, has found laughter in between Monty and Jasper and solemn respect with Miller, compassion with everyone who needs it and comfort with Clarke. He knows where he belongs, with them. But, the thing is, whenever Clarke thinks of their group as a them, Bellamy is always there.
Clarke focuses all her attention on Wells, makes sure his breathing is normal and his fists aren’t balled.
“Wells,” she says slowly. “He’s one of us. Don’t hurt him.”
Wells looks down on her, eyes still angry. “I’m not –I’m not going to hurt him. I take it he’s still going to be leader around here?”
“Like I am, like you are.”
He looks almost amused. “I’m not a leader.”
“You keep us together. That’s what a leader does.” It’s the truth. The weeks they spent in Mount Weather took a toll on all of them, sleep still ridden with nightmares, mouths still tainted with the taste of blood and drugs. Wells brought them kindness.
“You trust him?” Wells’ jaw sets.
Clarke turns back to Bellamy, still rooted in his place. “I do.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Wells moves past her and stands in front of Bellamy. He’s almost taller than Bellamy but that’s not what makes him seem bigger. It’s the fact that Bellamy is shirking, falling away some of the mask he puts on for others, his body telling Wells that he’s not an enemy.
Wells gives his hand for Bellamy to shake. Bellamy doesn’t hesitate.
-.-.-
She can’t pinpoint the very moment in their journey to return to the Ark survivors and Raven where Bellamy and Wells started sharing smiles because it happens slowly. Bellamy doesn’t give smiles away often, it’s mostly when he’s with Octavia (who she can tell he still misses) or trying to be an ass so it’s refreshing to see.
He’s handsome when he smiles.
One morning where she woke up early, she sees Wells coming out of Bellamy’s tent.
“Oh,” she says when he joins her around the burned out campfire. “Are you two…?”
Wells laughs. “Would you have a problem with that?”
“No, of course not.” She doesn’t tell him about this weird, sinking feeling at the bottom of her chest.
“We’re not. Bellamy’s one of the only who has a tent and he offered a place. I gave away blankets and spare clothes to the others for them to stay warm. We ended up staying up discussing what to do when we arrive at Camp Jaha.”
Clarke pokes around at the firewood. “You should’ve told me.”
“You were sleeping soundly by then.” Wells shrugs. “We didn’t want to wake you.”
“Next time, though.”
He nods. “Next time.”
“I’m glad, you know, that you two are friends now.”
“Me too.” He looks away from her, eyes at the sweeping expanses of green around them. He hasn’t seen enough of this world, she knows, and knows every day he wakes up, he drinks in the blues and greens and reds of earth, so different from the grey and black and white of both the Ark and Mount Weather. This boy deserves colour. Clarke wants to draw him someday. “He gets it, the monster in me.”
“You’re not a monster, Wells.”
“What I’ve been through –it’s enough to make anyone a monster but Bellamy understands. He understands the hurt people can do but I tell him that shouldn’t be the sum of a person. I can’t describe it.”
Clarke smiles. “Are you sure you two aren’t together?”
“Well,” he laughs. “He is nice to look at.”
They laugh, just the two of them, like it used to be. The rest of the world isn’t awake yet and Clarke can let herself believe that this beauty –tall trees surrounding them, the sound of a river nearby, the smell of fruit growing- is just for them.
-.-.-
They manage to get Raven out without anyone noticing.
Bellamy tells Clarke they should let her calm down for a bit before telling her about Finn but it’s the first question Raven asks.
Raven can’t run away from Bellamy but she asks Monty to take her away for a bit. The two hole out at the edge of their camp for a while, talking in hushed voices until Raven isn’t fuming. Clarke listens to them once and smiles –they’re talking about mechanics.
No one dares approach her until she’s properly calmed down –except Wells.
“You don’t know her,” Bellamy says. “She’s kinda intense.”
“So are you,” Wells says. “But I softened you up just fine.”
“Fuck off, Jaha.” But he’s smiling. “But go on, if you’re willing to risk losing a finger when she builds a bomb in your tent.”
Wells smiles and skips off to her and Monty. Monty leaves them alone once Wells gives him his patented calm-but-stern look. Bellamy and Clarke just look, Bellamy with his arms crossed and Clarke with worried eyes.
“So,” Wells says, “I hear you’re the famous Raven Reyes.”
“What’s it to you?” Raven snaps.
“Just wondering how someone so smart can completely miss the point.”
“And what’s that?”
“You said Finn was your family. What you forget is that he wasn’t the only one. You got a big family now. Bellamy, Clarke, Monty, Jasper, they all care about you. What happened to Finn was a tragedy but there are ways to make it seem a little less bad. Letting people care about you is one of them,” Wells says. “There are some things you can’t make bombs for.”
Bellamy feels warm standing next to Clarke. “He’s something else.”
“Yeah, I know.”
-.-.-
“We can’t just leave them,” Wells says to the three of them two days after. Bellamy, Raven, Clarke and Wells are circled together in Bellamy’s tent. “They’re still our people.”
“Our people are here, Wells. We’re finally all together,” Bellamy says. “The Ark survivors are just going to take that away and who the fuck knows what they’re going do to you, dead man walking.”
“And what? Just because we’re all together, it resolves us of responsibility to keep the Ark safe? Just because you’re leading again, you just wanna give up on the rest of them?” Wells asks.
Bellamy throws up his hands. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just…”
Raven picks up where he got lost. “He’s just saying that what they’re doing is wrong. Reinstating the status quo like that wasn’t fair. Do you know I heard Kane say that theft was punishable by the Exodus Charter? Who’s to say he’s not going to make floating an Earth custom too?”
Wells focuses his eyes on Raven, softer now. Raven isn’t the most talkative of people but Wells prods her, budges into her space and forces a smile out of her. She loves talking about the subtle mechanics of the Ark like it’s a fairytale and Wells is –has always been- so eager to learn.
“Look, I agree with Wells,” Clarke says. “They’re not going to survive by themselves. They don’t know how to. We do. Doing nothing and letting them die slowly isn’t going to help anyone.”
“Clarke,” Bellamy says. He has a different voice when he’s talking to her like this, like he desperately wants her to listen. “This is the system that killed your father, sent us down here to die.”
Clarke looks to Wells and he nods. “So we build a better system.”
“One that doesn’t start with turning away people who need us,” Wells says. “Look, I’m not saying we need to see them right now, not until we find a better plan, we’ll just keep an eye on them, alright?”
“Fine,” Bellamy says.
-.-.-
Raven’s the one that kisses Wells first, standing tiptoe on her crutches, about two weeks since they rescued her. Wells kisses back, Clarke can see, an arm around Raven’s waist. Clarke feels like an intruder so she leaves before they see her and goes to Bellamy’s tent.
“Princess,” Bellamy says. He’s not wearing a shirt –too early in the morning for that- but he’s lost all his shame when it comes to Clarke. “What’s up?”
“Wells,” Clarke says.
Bellamy’s hand automatically goes to his gun. “Did something happen to him?”
“No, nothing bad,” Clarke says, hand covering his. She looks up to him, sees the way his eyelashes curl and how his freckles look beautiful. “You love him.”
He freezes. She takes that as a yes.
“You love me,” Clarke says. She makes sure to state it as a fact. She knows him too well. Too many days spent in each other’s heartbeats for anything else. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at Raven.”
Bellamy pushes away from her. “I’m a mess, Clarke, is that what you want to hear? I’m a fucking mess.”
She sits down next to him, hand coming up to stroke his hair. Still such a boy, can’t even bother to clean up after himself.
“I’m a mess, too,” she says.
He kisses her. He tastes like water and Clarke drowns.
-.-.-
It’s not easy. She never expected anything less.
They watch over the Ark survivors like guardian angels even though the only one worthy of wings is Wells. They lead their own people, makes sure no one else needs to die.
Bellamy and Clarke kiss, Raven and Wells kiss. Two pairs –until that isn’t the case anymore.
Bellamy’s the one who builds them a bigger tent, with Raven barking orders at him, because Raven takes up space with her tools and Clarke with her art supplies.
“Women, am I right?” Bellamy says, nailing down one side of the tent.
“Bel, I wouldn’t say that unless you want them to kick your face in tonight,” Wells says. “Raven only has one working leg but it’s still ridiculously equipped to kick your balls.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Bellamy pouts.
Wells kisses him. “I am. I’m only looking out for you.”
Clarke and Raven leave the men to their jobs and find a secluded place in the woods –their secret place- and kiss each other until everything melts away. Raven’s so beautiful, all dark hair and insistence and strength. There are some days where Clarke craves her and Raven’s always so willing to let her take what she needs.
The camp doesn’t care about their relationship, this weird, mangled thing of theirs, because they know the four of them work better together. Once, Clarke even overheard Jasper saying, “Of course they’d end up together, Wells in the middle of them. Everyone’s in love with Wells.”
So it goes.
There are cuts, bruises, betrayal, blood dripping on the ground, more graves dug, more relationships ending, arguments, danger lurking in between their lives; different kinds of fear that they all learn to know, enemies that wear masks and those who don’t. There are bad things.
But there are also whispers of Wells’ father alive in the South, a little bit of hope every morning they wake up, sleepy kisses, the smell of Raven’s hair against Clarke; days where Octavia comes back to them, campfire songs and stories, the feel of finally forgiving her mother; happiness.
One morning, when it’s just Wells and Clarke in blankets and little else, looking over to their partners still sleeping, she kisses him soft.
“I always figured it would be me and you,” Wells says. “Just didn’t think it’d be like this.”
“It’s better, though, isn’t it?” Clarke asks.
“Yeah,” Wells says, kissing the top of her head. “Yeah, it is.”