Responsible for survival

Troubling

ABBY'S POV:

50 cases of the same problem. Not enough air. When I leave the waiting room is still bustling. I could diagnose most of them on the spot. I walk into the room, where they have Sinclair, drawing up another dropship design, hoping it will be buildable quicker. Kane stands up and pulls out a chair for me. I smile at the dork and sit down in it. He squeezes my shoulder. "Abby, I've fixed option 1 for us." The others around the table paste on frosty smiles. Kane sits in the chair next to me, and squeezes my hand under the table. "We get Jake to explain the science behind what's going on, then we get the kids on the radio." He shuffles his feet under the table. "Everyone knows the Earth's survivable, but currently beyond the parents no one wants to go and join them..." I begrudgingly nod.
"Fine. But we need to tell the kids what's going on up here." I smile at the others, trying to hide the fact I want nothing more than to cut the air off to Thelonius's room. I scrape back the chair and stand up, inadvertently pulling Marcus with me. I drop his hand with a start. "Erm..." I stutter, cheeks the warmest thing in the room. "I'll..."
"Yeah..." Marcus stutters, practically running out the room with me. As the door clicks shut we burst into fits of giggles, and I'm clinging to him as we stumble through the corridors. He keys in for me, and we collapse onto the sofa.

I gasp for air before pushing the chair up against the wall, to the secret compartment Jake's mum had built in when she'd moved here. I pull out the dusty box of memory sticks, and clutch them against my chest. Every last physical thing of Clarke is in this box. Her clothes taken for other kids and all her art at school. Marcus smiles at me, eyes soft. I sit at the table, and gently pull out the memory sticks, one by one. My gut begins to sink as I realise how many of these are Jake's little black memory sticks. I blink rapidly, and split them into piles. The ones I KNOW are Clarke, and don't ever want to open, and the ones I don't know. Marcus gently passes over the tablet to me.

Clarke and Wells blare from the screen, tiny babies. Sasha is there, clutching Wells, swaddled in greying fabric. Tears fall tick and fast, and I can't stop them, only pull out the memory stick. I kiss it before placing it in the box. I try again. Marcus wipes away the last tear on my face. Little Clarke and Wells, some six year or seven years old, fast asleep on the table with a half finished chest game. The camera zooms in on a knight, still clutched in Wells's fist. I pull out the memory stick.
The next one is pulled out immediately. Clarke and Wells in sombre black outfits. Sasha's body being sent to space. Wells slept on our sofa for a week. The next three get pulled out as out as soon as they're pulled in.

Then there's one that has Jake's face first. "First year anniversary..." he whispers, panning the camera to Clarke and Bellamy, entwined on the sofa, her legs on his lap, his head on her chest. She leans and kisses the top of his head

CLARKE'S POV:

Bellamy leans down and kisses my hair. The sun light wavers, dappling the ground between the trees in gold. The leaves caress the muddy floor in a blanket of amber, crunching beneath softly stepped feet. Silken spider webs dance silver in the sparkling sun. Bellamy's hand grazes my back, and fireworks zoom up my spine. My hand finds his through the cool air, and I brush my fingers against his. He opens his fingers, and slides between mine. We clasp together. Monroe buries a snicker, and Bell flips her off with his free hand.

Harper slips on a slick root, and stumbles backwards arms wind milling. Monty slides his hands under her arms and holds her up, chin on her shoulder, whispering into her ear. She laughs. Miller coughs, and she leaps out of his arms and burns bright red. Octavia laughs as Lincoln swings her into a piggy back. Bell giggles a little and crouches down till his lips brush my ear. "We can do that the other way if you want." I yelp, snorting laughter out my system. I gently shove him with my shoulder.
"Nah!" Monroe calls, "I have to share a tent with you!" Bellamy's cheeks flame up, his hand suddenly burning in mine. Murphy snickers. Monroe points the gun at them jokingly. "I will steal all the blankets." She arches her eyebrows. Everyone stumbles as laughter chokes us. Raven grins. She doesn't want to sleep in the tent, and sleeps in a chair next to the radio.

Charlotte had got in a fight. With a 15 year old. And won. Murphy was proud, high fiving her... Raven? Raven not so much... She glared at Murphy with such ferocity half the camp practically pissed themselves. He makes Charlotte apologise profusely. So we're left to radio in about the meeting. I go to sit in the makeshift seat for the radio we made, when Bell shakes his head. "That is not where you sit..." he whispers, before sitting down. He pats his knee. "This is where you sit." I clutch the wall as I giggle.
"I think we want a blanket tonight Bell..."
"I'm pretty sure I can keep you perfectly warm princess." He smirks. I groan, before picking up the radio. I don't sit down, and Bell rolls his eyes.
"Come in ark station, come in ark station, this is Clarke on the ground." A few beats of crackling radio and then my mum's voice breathes down the radio.
"Clarke?"
"Hi mum." I whisper, clutching the side of the table, I wish she was here. "We had a meeting with the grounders today." The radio crackles, and a vague hiss of a gasp crunches down the line.
"What?"
"We spoke to them, finalised our alliance with all 12 clans."
"TWELVE!" Jaha yells, distant and far off. "Twelve clans? How?"
"I don't know, didn't ask." I can feel my mum roll her eyes down the radio. The radio squeals with feedback and I cringe against the wall.
"It's me again." I notice a slight pain in my mum's voice, "What do you know about them?"
"Just, you know, cool stuff. Heda was OK with us following their laws-"
"Ah yes, Clarke, about rules..." Jaha's voice powers over the radio again. I meet Bellamy's soft brown eyes and we roll them in synch. "We have an important need for the delinquents."
"I'LL tell her Thelonius." My mum snaps.
""No, I want to broadcast it to the whole camp." Bellamy's eyebrows crease deeply, 'What?' he mouths, and I shrug. "Clarke, can you get the camp together please?"
"Why?" I growl.
"I have an important announcement for all of you." He says it as if he was still our chancellor.
"Sorry Jaha, can't be done." A sharp intake of breath echoes down the radio, followed by hysterical giggles.
"It's important to everyone's survival."
"You mean you're pushing crap on us because you're not brave enough to tell everyone on the Ark the truth?" I hiss. He wants US to explain about the Ark dying. So he'll look like a saint for saving us. Ugh. He splutters down the radio. "Fine. We'll radio you later today, because right now everyone's actually happy," I grin, "and I don't want your crap to ruin it." Jaha grunts a goodbye before passing me over to my mum.
"Clarke? Bellamy? It's me." Bell almost jumps out of his skin. I pass the radio over to him.
"Hey Abby." He smiles faintly.
"I need to talk to Clarke alone if that's OK?" Bellamy nods, and loudly scrapes the chair back. He stands up to leave but I grab his wrist, shaking my head.
"He's gone mum, what do you want? We ARE being responsible." Mum splutters down the radio and Bellamy burns bright red.
"Thhaattss..." she drags it out, unsure, "Good! Erm... Clarke..." her tone softens. "We need to talk about Bellamy." Our foreheads scrunch up, eyes meeting in confused glances.
"What about him?"
"Well... you see Clarke... to get on the dropship... he" oh. We know what this is about.
"Shot the Chancellor. I know. It doesn't matter." I try to keep my tone light.
"It does Clarke."
"NO, it doesn't."
"You think grounder law applies to you, but it won't when we get down." I look at Bellamy confused. He's staring at his shoes a pink tinge beginning to spread up his cheeks. "Jaha wants him dead." Bell tenses, and he throws his head up, eyes wide, looking at me. They glisten with fear and tears.
"Over my dead body." I hiss, swinging my hand out for Bellamy to grab. He interlocks his fingers and squeezes, hand shaking. I lean over and flick off the radio. The buzz goes silent. I look up at Bell, and wrap my arms around his waist. He presses his chin to the top of my head, and I feel the words vibrate through my body. "Could've handled that better princess." I laugh, nuzzling into his warm chest.
"What? They're not touching you if I can help it." I whisper. He laughs, and it shakes my head.
"That's because that's my job." he whispers huskily.
"Gross!" We leap apart like our skins the sun. Raven stands there, silhouetted by the washed out light, arms folded. She smirks and coughs, shoulders shaking slightly. "Clarke, we need you to fix splinters. Murphy's refusing to do it." Laughter splutters out of me before I can stop it. Bellamy places a big hand on my back between my shoulder blades. He gently steers my out the dropship and past raven. "Wait, Bellamy. I need a couple of coherent answers about the Mountain men."His hand drops from my back. I walk out alone, into the blinding sunlight. I pause on the ramp, straining my ears for anything unusual. "It was pink, right? With green lasers?" I hear the grunt of a response. A soft thudding footstep echoes through the metal. "Wait?" A pause, the flicking of a faint metal switch. "Did Clarke turn the radio off?"
"Yeah." He breaths funny, like a laugh without the noise, "She's protective." Raven sighs.
"Her mum told her?"
"Both of us. She said she'd kill him." Raven snorts.

Then something squeals. A high, electronic squeal. Peircing and ear shredding. Kids, some 20 metres in front of me, cringe. Hands fly to ears. A volley of swear words echo, then silence.
"Hello Raven." A honeyed voice whispers, flicked with static.