From The Ashes | The 100 S5 [Bellarke]

|17| The New Council

 6 years and 8 days after Praimfaya

Graham sat on the couch behind the council room's desk, his elbows resting on his knees. His head was slumped down between his knees, his fingers laced across the back of his neck.

This was his fault. They'd been imprisoned because he couldn't keep his mouth shut for five more damn minutes. If he hadn't given into the urge to let Jeremy have a little hope, they wouldn't be stuck here.

"Hey."

The couch cushions sank down as Octavia sat next to him, the shift and slide of her leather clothes so different from the synthetic linen of his wardrobe. He turned his head, glancing at her through the tangle of hair that had once again fallen into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said for probably the millionth time.

"I'm not mad at you," Octavia said, lifting one shoulder in a dismissive gesture. "I'm mad at Adams for being an ass about the situation, but then again I really can't blame him."

"He's going to kill us all," Graham muttered, straightening up and folding his arms. He started resolutely at the locked door of the council room, unable to meet Octavia's practical gaze. She should be angry at him; he'd broken the trust she'd put in him.

"Maybe," she agreed. "Or maybe he'll be the one to save us. The only thing we know is that there's a chance, and obviously he's willing to take the risks that go along with it."

"Would you have drilled through?" he asked, glancing at her again.

The smudged black paint around Octavia's eyes made the blue of them seem an unreal, vivid color. When she shifted her position, leaning forward to rest her forearms on her knees, he saw the lean, deadly muscles move fluidly under her paling tan skin.

Octavia Blake was a warrior, and even though she carried the burden of leadership, it didn't really seem to fit her. Like she had proved with her interaction with Jeremy, she was a fighter. She had Kane and Jaha for the delicate, political parts of leadership.

"I don't know," she finally replied, flicking her gaze over to him.

"You shouldn't beat yourself up," Jaha said, meandering over from where he had obviously been listening in. He placed a hand on Graham's shoulder, a comforting gesture that lacked the warmth Graham thought it should have. "Something like this wouldn't have stayed hidden forever. We've simply skipped past the years of lying, which you should be thankful for. A secret like this one would have been–"

"You don't know what would've happened," Octavia interrupted tersely.

Jaha lifted his hands up in a gesture of peaceful neutrality as he stepped back.

"Seven years later and he still acts like the chancellor," she muttered, huffing a disdainful laugh as she watched Jaha begin a quiet discussion with Kane. "But, he's also right about a lot of things, including this."

"Yeah," Graham agreed, pushing his hands into his hair and sweeping the wild mess out of his eyes. He held his hands against the back of his head, frowning thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "It still sucks."

Octavia snorted. "You can say that again."

Suddenly, the lights flickered.

"Dammit," Kane said, going over to the door and pounding on the thick, bulletproof glass. "Hey! Look, we all want to go home. But if you follow Jeremy's way, you could doom us all!"

"They're not going to listen to you, Marcus," Indra said quietly from where she stood by a corner, Luc at her side. "Their hope is too loud for them to hear the voice of reason."