Kane rubbed his face before saying, “Bellamy, you’re not thinking this through.”
The young man merely glared harder at him, and his sister crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.
“We know what we’re doing, Kane. And that’s exactly why we’re leaving. No one else seems to trust us–to make decisions, to stand on our own feet, to do anything really.”
“I’m not here to rehash that discussion,” he admitted, raising his hands in surrender. “You made your case quite clear to the Council, and we’re not going to stop you and whoever else of the hundred from leaving. But for god’s sakes, take some guards with you.”
“So, what, they can keep an eye on us for you? Control us?” Octavia sneered.
Kane rubbed his temples, willing his blood pressure to not pulse higher than it already was. “All I’m saying,” he clarified through gritted teeth, “is that you should take some extra protection with you, while you set up your new camp. At least until you get some proper defenses up. It will be temporary. It won’t kill you; in fact, it might even save some lives.”
“We can handle ourselves,” Bellamy retorted in a determined tone.
Octavia added smugly, “Besides, it was our people who taught yours how to shoot. So really, we’re all set.”
Then she stormed out of the room. Sometimes Kane thought Octavia didn’t know any other way to move other than rapidly, forcefully, like a hurricane. Bellamy lingered for a moment, a flash of regret crossing his face. He steeled himself quickly, though, straightening up to look like the leader Kane always thought he could be.
“No guards,” Kane finally admitted. “But if you need help–”
“We won’t.”
“But if you do, we’re here.”
Bellamy nodded in understanding, hesitated, then stepped forward with his hand outstretched.
“Goodbye, Marcus.”
Kane didn’t smile, but he was damn close. He understood the hundred’s need for freedom, but he also feared that some would lose their lives because of the choice they were making. Even so, his farewell was genuinely meant.
“Good luck.”
ii. wardrums
It was only minutes after the war drums began to sound in the distance that Abby came to him, demanding they send a guard delegation to the dropship camp.
“They have to be warned,” she insisted.
Kane sighed. It wasn’t the first time she had come running to him, worried out of her mind for the hundred. They were doing surprisingly–or rather not so surprisingly–well supporting themselves on their own. They wouldn’t welcome outside help, he knew that for certain. “I’m sure they hear the drums as clearly as we do. They know what it means, and what to look out for.”
“Marcus.”
“They’ll be fine!”
Abby glowered at him for another moment before walking away. She paused in the doorway though, looking halfway over her shoulder.
“She’ll never forgive me, you know. If they get hurt on my watch.”
Then she left, more subdued than he would have expected. Kane sighed again (seems that was all he did these days) because of course this was about Clarke. So, against his better judgement, he quietly gathered a few trusted guards and set out for the camp. By the time they got close, it was late. The forest was pitch-black around them. They didn’t risk lighting up any lanterns, for fear of attracting attention from unwanted and possibly battle-prone sources.
The lack of light ended up being their downfall, however, because they didn’t see the attack coming. Kane barely heard a few of his men grunt and shout in the night before something blunt and heavy connected with the back of his head, knocking him to the ground and finally out cold.
When he woke, he blinked up at shoddily wired fluorescent lights and for a second, thought someone from camp had come to rescue their group. Then he heard young voices, however, and a familiar, long-lost face came into view.
“Luke says he’s sorry. Didn’t mean to hit you quite so hard,” Clarke murmured, probing at his temple.
Kane only let her examine him for another minute before sitting up. He groaned from the pain throbbing at the back of his head, but then he looked around at the makeshift med bay. Slowly he registered the vaguely familiar interior of the dropship.
“You’re here?” He rasped, swinging his legs over the side of the examination table despite Clarke making a grunt of protest at the motion. “When did you get back?”
A rustle sounded behind him. “You’re up.”
Bellamy then strode up to the side of the table, looking at Clarke wordlessly but having a conversation nonetheless.
“Your men are fine,” Bellamy finally said as Clarke moved away to tend to other patients. “A little banged up, but fine.”
“I’m trying not to take this personally,” Kane teased.
The other man fought a grin. “Told you we could take care of ourselves.”
“Even with war sounding in the distance?”
“The Commander’s truce holds with us too,” Clarke called over as she checked a guard’s stitches. “We’ll be safe. And if we aren’t–”
“You can take care of yourselves,” Kane repeated wearily.
Bellamy and Clarke exchanged an amused look before going their separate ways. Kane wasn’t far behind Bellamy in moving outside, gathering his men for the trek home. Still, he managed to catch Clarke alone.
“I have to tell her you’re here,” he murmured. “She’ll find out eventually, and if she knows I kept it a secret–”
“You can tell her,” Clarke agreed. “It’s not that I didn’t want her to know I was back. I just didn’t know how to tell her.”
Kane hesitated, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders for a brief side-hug. “You’ve done good here. All of you.”
“Thanks,” Bellamy rumbled over his shoulder, apparently having been eavesdropping.
Kane waved as he left, deciding the lump on the back of his head was worth it if it gave Abby what she had been looking for all this time: peace of mind regarding Clarke.
iii. snowstorm
“Abby, slow down.”
More snow fell into the tops of his boots as he raced through the deep piles to catch up to the stubborn woman in front of him. The last flakes had barely fallen before she had thrown her coat and portable med kit on, declaring that she was heading for the other camp.
Without much choice, he had followed her. For protection, of course. It was dangerous to make the trek by herself, let alone with the new blanket of sparkling, freezing whiteness covering the ground. The closer they got, the faster she walked, no doubt eager to see Clarke. Mother and daughter had met more often than he would’ve expected since Clarke had returned. It softened Abby, and everyone at Camp Jaha was a little relieved their Chancellor seemed to settle more responsibly into her role after her daughter’s return.
A sudden shriek, followed by a cry, echoed across the otherwise still woods. With one wide-eyed look backwards, Abby took off for the camp at a pace he could barely keep up with. When they arrived, however, they looked around at the playing teenagers, realizing the shouts had been ones of joy.
“Well, I’ll be,” Kane breathed as he looked around at the snowmen and forts and angels being made.
“They’re going to catch a cold. Or something worse,” Abby huffed, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. A smile tugged at her lips, and Kane couldn’t resist breaking out into a grin of his own.
Then a soft thump sounded, and when he glanced over, snow was sliding off Abby’s shoulder from a well-aimed snowball. Everyone in the yard froze, eyes locked on the Chancellor and her blank expression.
“Sorry,” a little boy called out, half-hidden by his friends who stood around him in a protective ring.
Abby didn’t say a word, and then quick as lightning, bent down and scooped up some snow, which she then smacked down on Kane’s head. The chill startled a cry out of him, and then Abby started laugh, bright and light and clear. It carried across the dropship yard, slowly joined by giggles and chuckles from the hundred.
Then another snowball hit Abby, this time thrown by Clarke. Another one rested in her hand, and she grinned as she raised it tauntingly.
“Be careful, daughter of mine,” Abby called out with a laugh as she armed herself as well. “You may have taken on a fight you can’t win.”
“Wanna bet?”
Soon enough snowballs were flying across the yard and happy shouts filled the air as a full-on war broke out. Kane couldn’t help but join in. Surprisingly, Bellamy sided with him and Abby, enjoying taunting Clarke and his sister as they tried to gain the upper hand.
It didn’t last too long, and the camp turned out to not need their help, so before they knew it, he and Abby were on their way home. They were wet and chilled to the bone but smiling so hard that neither of them cared because what was a little physical discomfort compared to an afternoon of fun?
+i. sickness
The next time Kane saw Clarke, she was the one carrying a med pack.
“Where are they?” she asked without preamble as she strode through the camp towards the Ark.
True to form, she didn’t even wait for his gesturing hand, instead entered the Ark. He didn’t bother calling after her; she was savvy enough to figure out they had converted the mess hall into an emergency expansion of the med bay on her own. Kane looked back, equally unsurprised to see Bellamy barking orders to the people they had brought with them. They scampered off quickly to see to the duties and chores put on hold with most of Camp Jaha’s population taken down by this more recent outbreak of illness.
“Don’t worry,” Bellamy reassured him as they headed inside. “Clarke’s seen this before, while she was away. She has it handled.”
Then he clapped him on the back and jogged off, no doubt to find Clarke. Kane breathed out in great relief, because ever since Abby had fallen ill, he hadn’t quite been so sure they would make it through this latest trial the ground had sent them.
As he walked towards the med bay, he was already planning a celebration in the hundred’s honor. Bellamy had been right; they hadn’t needed the Ark’s help. They were the ones providing help now, and Kane was absolutely going to make sure it was received with the respect and gratitude it deserved.
The hundred were the true survivors, after all. Always had been, always would be, and that was something to commemorate.