Lost Somewhere In Outer Space

Chapter Two

"A Huge Problem, You and Me"

On Earth, Clarke's morning routine usually consisted of making sure she was still alive, her limbs were still attached and her knife was still in her hand. Sometimes, she killed panthers to trade with the local Grounders for food or water, sometimes she hunted for Lexa, and sometimes she didn't move at all until she was literally starving. She hardly bathed, hardly cared about physical appearances, hardly did anything for her health.

But now, she's apparently back on the Ark - the one that's still floating in space, not the one her mother's chancellor of - and her image is reflected back to her in her bathroom. Her hair on Earth was curly and ruined because of the humidity and because of the makeshift red dye she had put in it, but now, she's blonde again, her hair wavy and long, falling past her shoulders. The image in the mirror isn't her, she knows this, but it looks like who she used to be and nothing like who she is now.

There's barely anything hard or rough in this body - not her muscles or her legs or her strength - and there are no physical scars either.

Yet when she runs her fingers over her arm, for just a second, she can still feel the stitches Maya wove into her skin there.

She steps into the shower after a long look in the mirror, turning the knobs with enough familiarity. The water is warm on her skin, causing it to go from pale white to blotchy, angry red, but it feels like home, so she stays under the fall for what feels like an eternity.

There she thinks about the conversation she had with her father the night before.

"What do you know about time travel?"

Jake's eyebrows had went up, his forehead crinkling and making him look older. "Not much. I'm no Stephen Hawking." He joked, but at Clarke's confusion, explained, "He was the first scientist to really put time travel on the map. Of course, it was dreamed up for years beforehand, but he put science to it. Made it seem possible, if not theoretical. But it took many years after his findings for wormholes to be actually proven."

"So why hasn't anyone traveled back in time to stop the bombs? If it's possible, why hasn't it been done?" Clarke had asked, desperately, accusingly.

Jake had looked at her in slight shock. "The scientists who were working on time travel weren't among the nations saved. They believed they could change the world, but the nations knew the world was about to be destroyed. They saved as many people as they could, but they weren't going to save anyone who didn't want to be saved."

"So, those scientists were left to die?"

Jake looked hurt for a moment. "Well, it wasn't my decision, honey. This all happened before I was born." He took a deep sigh. "But yes, they were left on Earth, and their findings were all but forgotten. Time travel, although then possible, wasn't a reality anyone believed in. People couldn't hope for a savior; we had to save ourselves, Clarke."

"The things we do to survive don't define us." she had said in response, closing her eyes. She had understood; killing all of Mount Weather was easier than letting her people be tortured and killed.

Jake did not speak for a long time, eventually taking another deep breath. "Exactly, although I'm sure now, more than ever, the higher ups wished they had saved those findings." He said, a bitter tone to his voice - as if he wasn't one of the higher ups himself.

She knows why, of course; the Ark is dying and it's their fault. She was sent to a time before the hundred were sent to the ground, to a time before her father was floated, to a time before her voice couldn't change anything at all.

Clarke is completely and utterly powerless here.

"What happened to your braid?" her mother asks her when Clarke meets her after her shower. Abby runs her fingers through Clarke's hair. "I like it up."

"Well, I don't." Clarke snaps, because right now all she can think about is that her father's going to floated in three months. Abby's eyes widened in shock and a little bit of anger, and Clarke remembers that this woman - the one in front of her - still hasn't sent her husband to be murdered. "Sorry." she mumbles, her fingers going up to her hair, already twisting the locks into place.

Abby nods, her lips pursed and eyes colder than usual. She waits until Clarke finishes braiding her hair and then she leads them out of Phoenix, the younger girl following a couple steps behind.

—

At lunch time, Clarke goes to the Mess Hall with everyone else. She had spent the entire morning in Earth Skills, listening carefully to every word Professor Pike had said. He was wrong in some things - claiming the bombs wiped out mountains and killed every animal that ever existed - but he was correct in many others - fire kills oxygen, rain water is safe to drink, plants will grow again. She took diligent notes throughout the class, focusing only on his words, and when the class moved to leave, she realized Harper and Monroe were there too.

She almost went to them, but as soon as they turned her way, their eyes looked passed her and walked away. They didn't know her. At least, not in the way she knew them.

Sighing, she makes her way to the women serving the rations, waiting until it's her turn. "Miss Griffin, you know you can always come up front. You don't have to make the line." The lady serving tells her, wearing a kind smile. Clarke pauses, her mind trying to put a name to the face, but she doesn't remember it.

"That's okay." she says instead. "I'm okay." Clarke clears her throat at the lunch lady's frown, and takes the plate from her, thanking her.

"Of course, my dear. There's a little something there, just for you. Thank your mother again for me, Clarke." The lady smiles warmly, and Clarke nods, not trusting herself to speak. As she walks away, she wishes she could remember the woman's name, but her mind comes up blank.

She walks until she realizes she doesn't know where she's going. Back on the Ark, she would sit with Wells - Wells, she still hasn't seen him! - or would go back to the infirmary to eat. She almost does do just that, until she spots two boys eating in the corner by themselves, laughing and flicking food at one another.

Swallowing hard, she turns towards them, her hands shaking slightly against her tray. "Do you mind if I sit here?" she asks when she's next to them. They boys look up, both confused at someone interrupting them, and then even more confused that that someone is Clarke Griffin.

"Um, sure." Monty says, because of course Monty would say yes. He looks at her like she might dump her lunch on him, but he makes room for her to sit. Jasper jumps up.

"Of course, you can sit with us." he rushes to the other side of the table, pushing her seat in when she sits down. She smiles awkwardly at him, trying not to think about anything. Unconsciously, she runs her fingers down her arm again. "My name is Jasper. We used to have Math together." he says before pointing to Monty. "And that's Monty. He's my best friend."

"I know." Clarke says before she can stop herself. The boys look surprised. She blushes slightly. "I remember you from math. You wore googles all the time." She points at his head, even though he's not wearing them now.

Jasper beams. "That's because I'm a chemist. Or I will be."

Monty laughs. "Yeah, some chemist." The boys share a knowing look, and Jasper throws a pea at him. "Anyway…" Monty starts, looking at Clarke pointedly.

She clears her throat. "I'm Clarke."

Monty nods. "Yeah, we know, too." The boys share another look. "So, um, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" he asks friendly, but the expression makes her wince.

"You okay?" Jasper asks, concerned. His eyebrows furrow and he frowns.

Goddamn, this is hard, Clarke thinks to herself.

"Yeah, I'm okay." she lies, eating a little to busy herself. She can only eat half of the fake meat and peas before she thinks she might be sick.

"You look green." Jasper says after a while of silence. Clarke shakes her head, putting a hand to her face. "You sure you're okay?" He asks warily this time, probably afraid she's going to throw up on them.

"Yeah, yeah." she waves him off, her hand covering her eyes. But she's not, of course. Jasper hurts as much as Bellamy does. "I have to go. Do you wanna finish my potatoes? I didn't touch them."

Monty gives her a strange look, concern probably, but Jasper snatches her tray. "Hell, yes. I never get potatoes! That's awesome. Are they expensive?" Clarke shrugs awkwardly, and Jasper just hums before eating a slice of her potatoes. He closes his eyes dramatically, a smile on his face. "I love finding out how the other half lives. It's like finding out about a magical world by opening a closet door."

Monty smiles, giving Clarke an apologetic look. "I think that's a book, Jas."

"No, I just made that up. In my mind. Right now."

"Sure you did, buddy."

Clarke stands up abruptly, her knee hitting the table hard, and the boys stop their laughing. Their eyes are wide and Monty reaches out for her, whilst Jasper lets a small laugh out. "Jesus, you are jumpy." he says, snickering. "Do you want your potatoes back?" he says, pushing the tray back to her.

Clarke shakes her head, the bile rising up her throat. "But um…" she sits down again, her legs still pointing towards the door. "I heard you guys know your way around the herbs."

Jasper chokes on a potato slice and Monty takes a sharp intake of breath. "Uh, no. Don't have any idea what in the world you're talking about. Sorry." Jasper says, after thumping his chest a couple times.

Clarke purses her lips. "Okay, but if you did…" she shrugs, standing up, trying to act aloof. "Just remember to refill them properly. The adults are checking them."

She turns away before they can ask any questions, but they don't follow her out like Bellamy did the day before.

Bellamy.

She sighs, her heart hurting a little as she walks down to the learning sector, but she pushes the pain away. She has bigger problems right now, like Botany and Professor Green.

"Hello, sir. May I speak with you for a second?"

Professor Green is young, probably her mother's age, with kind eyes but a no-nonsense attitude. When she dropped his class when she was fifteen, he told her that as a future doctor and maybe one that could return to Earth, she would regret it. A year later his time, but two years later her time, she does.

"Sure, Miss Griffin. Please come in." He gestures at a seat, and she closes the door behind her. "What can I help you with?"

"Well," she clears her throat as she sits. "I would like to rejoin Botany if that's okay."

Professor Green raises his eyebrow. "Well, I'm only teaching the fifth years and the twelfth years this quarter. Unfortunately, you're too advanced and too behind for either class."

Clarke nods. "I know, but…"

"But you left my class in your ninth year. You left most of your classes in order to complete your medical training, which is a perfectly fine profession - one I'm sure your mother and father are proud of."

Clarke nods again. "They are, but I want to be prepared…just in case anything happens."

Professor Green looks at her with a raised eyebrow. "Anything happens? It's a class about plants, and we're living in space."

She swallows. "But one day, we might not be, and I want to know about what plants can heal and what plants to stay away. I don't want anyone getting poisoned off a drugged plant." Again, she adds in her head.

"Yes, well…" Professor Green shuffles some papers on his desk. "I'm not teaching at your level this year. Maybe ask Rema. I think she might have space in her eighth year class. You would be a year ahead, but it's better than nothing." And he nods as to dismiss her.

But Clarke stays. "I can do the twelfth year class, Professor. You have kids take an exam in order to join, correct?"

The older man nods. "Yes, but I can't say it's one of my more popular classes. I only have three students, one of them my son. I will not slow down my lessons so that you can keep up." He says pointedly.

Clarke nods, her face serious. "I understand. I don't need a handicap. I just want to learn." She adds, "I can take the exam."

He takes a deep breath, leaning back on his chair. "Okay, you have a week to study the materials. I suggest talking to one of the students, either Monty or…"

Clarke interrupts. "I'll ask Monty. We're friends."

Green raises an eyebrow again, but doesn't comment on the almost-lie. "Very well. If you can pass the exam, then you can be in my class. We meet Monday and Wednesdays. Can that fit in with your medical studies?"

"Yes." she says, even though she's not sure it will. "Thank you, sir."

Professor Green shrugs. "I did nothing, Miss Griffin. If you want to be in my class, it's up to you." And with that she is dismissed again with a respectful nod. This time, Clarke leaves, a small smile on her face.

—

She has the night shift in the infirmary because of her classes, and when she walks in, she expects to see her mother. Instead, she sees the one person she still needed to see.

"Wells!" Her heart simultaneously breaks and heals at the sight of him. He's leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for her. His head snaps up, a bright smile on his face.

"For god's sake, it's impossible to get ahold of you, Clarke."

Clarke is still in emotional hell, so she does the only thing she can think of: barrel him with a huge hug. He gasps as she almost tackles him, but holds her tightly, his hands never hesitating to embrace her back. "Whoa, buddy." he says, laughing a little. "Where's the fire?"

"Sorry, sorry." she sputters out, but she stays in his embrace until he untangles her from him.

"Clarke?" he questions gently. "Are you okay?" he rubs her arm, and the bruises Bellamy caused with his hand burn with Wells' touch.

"No." she says, truthfully for the first time in two days. "No, I'm not." she shakes and he brings her close to him again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I got you. Always." Wells promises, and it makes Clarke want to scream and tear the room apart. "What's wrong?"

There are voices suddenly, and Clarke pushes herself away, turning away from the sound to wipe her eyes. She can already tell it's her mother, but she hears another voice as well. "Thank you, Dr. Griffin."

"Of course, David. It makes me feel better having a guard with us, especially at this late hour, and training the cadets is a necessity." Her mother answers, her heels clanking as she walks into the room. "Oh, hello, Wells, Clarke."

Clarke takes a deep breath, making her face stony as she turns around. Wells is staring at her intensely, but doesn't make a move towards her. Instead, he greets Abby. "Hello, Doc." he smiles roughly at her, and Abby grins. "It's been a while." Wells says, but it sounds like a joke.

Abby laughs. "Yeah, two days." she looks at Clarke. "Clarke unfortunately hasn't been feeling too great, but she's better now, right?" Abby squeezes her arm, pulling Clarke into a half hug. The blonde girl nods, her lips pressed together tightly. "Good. Now let's get to work." Looking over at Wells, she says, "I invited your father for dinner tomorrow. I hope you come too, Wells."

Wells looks at Clarke. "Wouldn't miss it."

Clarke nods at him, ever so slightly, a promise that she'll talk to him then, and he leaves. As soon as he does, Clarke feels cold again. Swallowing hard, she tells herself to go into doctor-mode, to learn as much as she can from her mother, but David Miller stops her in her tracks.

He is perched against the entrance of the infirmary, a gun holstered on his side. Next to him, Bellamy Blake stands at attention. Abby smiles at them. "David brought one of his cadets with him tonight, Clarke, since Jackson and I have to prep for surgery for Mrs. Declan. I want you to stay here in case anyone comes in."

Clarke stands completely still as she frantically thinks of her options. On one hand, she wants to watch her mother perform open heart surgery, just in case she would ever have to do it, but on the other hand, she doesn't want to run away from Bellamy again.

She misses him.

Besides yesterday, she hasn't seen him for months - not since he asked her for a drink and she kissed his cheek in goodbye.

In the end, she chooses her people again. "I want to watch you, mom. I think it would be a good learning experience."

Abby smiles at her, but gives her a strange look. "Last week, you told me to never include you on anything involving blood."

Clarke almost laughs. "How can I become a doctor if I can't look at blood?" she asks, completely aware that Bellamy is staring a hole into her head. She doesn't face him; she knows the second she does, she'll do something idiotic like jump into his arms. "I'm fine with blood."

"You weren't last week." Abby mentions again, almost grumbling, but shakes her head. "No, I need Jackson with me. He's more experienced than you are, and I need all the help I can get. I can't leave him here. You'll do better in the infirmary, Clarke." Abby continues as soon as she sees Clarke start to argue. "Clarke, you just learned how to take blood from a patient. What I need is a little bit more advanced." she says, not knowing that Clarke had treated someone who literally had a spear in his chest.

Jackson arrives them, already in scrubs. "Are you ready, Abby?" The older woman nods, turning towards Clarke.

"The cadet will stay with you. I'm sorry, I don't know your name?" Her mother says amicably to Bellamy.

"Blake." He says simply, and Mr. Miller puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Blake is one of our best cadets. I plan on making him one of our best guards, as well." Mr. Miller says, and Clarke closes her eyes. Once upon a time, Bellamy wasn't just the best guard in the field.

He was the fucking leader.

"Excellent. Clarke, if anything goes wrong, you page for me. I'm taking the nurses with me for the surgery so you will be alone tonight. Are you okay with that, or do you want me to call for Callie to stay with you?"

Clarke shakes her head, frustrated. "Mom, I'm fine. I can handle the sniffles." Abby pauses but nods, leaving with Mr. Miller and Jackson.

"Page me if you need me, Clarke." Abby says before she leaves. Suddenly, Clarke is once again alone with Bellamy Blake. Bravely, she turns to him and notices the things she didn't before. His hair, usually curly and in his eyes, is slicked back professionally and he's in a guard uniform. His eyes are trained on her, all steel and anger, but, luckily maybe for her, he doesn't have a gun on his side.

"You found me." She says, because she doubts it's coincidence that Bellamy Blake is standing in front of her a day after she revealed his secret wasn't so secret.

He shrugs slowly, cold eyes staring at her. "Miller needed someone to watch over the Princess of the Ark, and I volunteered." He smiles unamused. "It looks good on a resume."

Clarke's skin feels like it's on fire. "Why is that always a thing?" she snaps, bringing a hand to her hair. She expects her fingers to run through but instead, they get tangled in her braid. Frustrated, she undos the locks. "I'm not a princess."

Bellamy snorts, and Clarke glares at him - but she can't keep the heat there. He may look a tad different, but he's still Bellamy, the boy she had on her side for such a long time.

She blew up a village to save his life.

"We need to talk." He orders after a beat, his jaw set. "Let's start, with who the hell are you, and why do you know about Octavia?"

She doesn't know how to even respond to him, but she doesn't have to. A small girl and her mother come in, the little girl rubbing her eyes to wipe the tears away. She has a cold, but luckily, she wasn't lying when Clarke told her mother she can deal with the sniffles.

Swallowing hard, she focuses on her patient and ignores Bellamy. Well, outright, she does; inwardly, he's all she thinks about.

Bellamy Blake is dead.

At least, the one she knew. She will never talk to Bellamy again, not like she used to. He was her partner. She protected him and he protected her. They ran a group of abandoned, delinquent teenagers together and helped them survive a harsh landing, a war, a treaty.

Sometimes back on Earth, when she was waking up, her thoughts would not be on survival, but on him. On his eyes, on his hand on hers as they pulled a trigger, on his arms wrapped around her.

And sometimes, in the deepest recesses of her mind, she used to think that she could have loved…

A tray filled with medical supplies falls to the floor, and the little girl jumps and starts to cry again. "Oh, I'm so sorry." Clarke snaps out of her thoughts, her hands shaking a little. The mother gives her an exasperated look.

"I think we're just going to wait for Dr. Griffin to look over Molly. Thank you for your help, Clarke." The mother gives her a hard stare, grabbing Molly's hand. The pair leave quickly, leaving Bellamy and Clarke alone again.

"So much for handling the sniffles." Bellamy says vindictively.

"Shut up." Clarke says angrily, because that's what she always said every time Bellamy would ask like an asshole. The cadet doesn't respond, but his glance turns into a steely glare again. She sighs, sitting down, putting her head in her hands. "My name is Clarke Griffin." she mumbles.

Bellamy comes closer. "Yeah, I know that, Princess. The question is why do you know my name, and why do you know hers?" he breathes out the last part, and his fear is apparent again. He kneels in front of her, lifting her hands so she's forced to look him in the eyes. A big part of her wants to mess up his hair; the perfect slicked up style reminds her too much of the first day on the ground.

"It's a long story." she settles on.

"Tell me it then." he demands, but his voice is shaky. He hasn't let go of her wrist and she doesn't take it away.

"I…can't." she whispers. Behind her eyes, she can feel the sting of tears, and she turns away from him before she can cry. Standing up, she goes over to the medical tools she dropped, picking them up and putting them away.

"What do you mean you can't? Did someone tell you? Does your mother know? The council?" he asks angrily, dropping his arms in frustration. His hands go to his hair, messing it a little, before he remembers that it's styled. Clarke almost wants to tell him to do it again, just so he can look like her Bellamy.

"Trust me, if the council or my mother knew, you would know." she says pointedly, still not looking him in the eyes. She sighs at his insistent stare. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you what's going on, but…" She sets her jaw. "The Ark is dying." she tells him, and he looks confused.

"What? What does that mean?" he asks, coming close again. She wonders if he does that to intimidate her with his height; it doesn't work. She's not afraid of him, but it still makes her pause.

"It means…people are starting to lose control, and people do stupid things when they lose control."

Bellamy groans. "What the hell does that have to do with Octavia? How do you know about her?"

Clarke shakes her head. There's a knock at the door, this time an older man complaining he hurt his back. Determined to help without having another episode, she pays attention only to her patient, once again ignoring Bellamy albeit unsuccessfully.

When the man leaves, Bellamy tries again, but Clarke doesn't say another word. She's afraid if she does, she'll tell him the truth - and then he'll just think she's crazy. "Oh, Princess." he says after he asks her the same question for the third time. "We're going to have a huge problem, you and me."

Clarke smiles weakly, sadly. "Won't be the first time." she whispers, and he gives her a strange look. "Are you going to be here every night?" she asks after a while.

He straights up, eyes flashing. "Every fucking night, Princess, until you tell me the truth." he threatens, but she takes it like a promise. "I'll stay with you forever if I have to, just to protect her."

Clarke nods. "I don't expect anything less." she says truthfully, and he squirms in confusion. It's obvious it's bothering him that he doesn't know what's going on. "My mother should be done soon, but my shift is done now. Can you walk me to my room?" she asks, because she's selfish. She doesn't need his protection, but she doesn't want to let him leave her yet.

Bellamy sighs, struggling between killing her and being her guard. "Fine. Come on. Try to keep up." He tells her, shaking his hair out with his fingers.

"You look better with your hair like that." She tells him when his hair is back in his eyes and not plastered to his head. He gives her a long look, trying to figure her out, before he shakes his head, laughing a little.

"Yeah, well, you look better with your hair down, too, Princess." He tells her, and she gives him a small grin. They walk in Phoenix in silence until they reach her apartment. She turns to him then, still not sure what to say. This Bellamy in front of her doesn't know her, and she doesn't know him. He doesn't know of the way they looked at one another; he doesn't know about the way he saved her life or the way she forgave him.

But then again, he also doesn't know the way she locked the dropship before he got on, or the way she pulled the trigger that gassed three hundred people.

Now, he's looking at her like he doesn't know her at all, which he doesn't but it still takes her a while to get used to. "Listen, Princess, I don't want to threaten you, but if you tell anyone about O, I will…"

Clarke interrupts him. She knows what he's capable of already. "I won't. I promise. Your secret's safe with me, Bell." she nods to him, putting a hand on his arm, and he looks taken aback.

"Yes, well…" He frowns. "We're not friends, Princess. Don't act like we are. I don't even know you."

She steps back, feeling a little like how she felt when Anya stabbed her so long ago. "Sorry." she apologizes, because he's right. "I promise one day, I'll explain everything, but today's not the day. Have a good night, Cadet Blake." she nods, her lips tightly pressed together before going inside and closes the door behind her.

Going to her room, she waits until the pink, frilly blanket of her youth is over her eyes before she starts to cry.

Bellamy Blake - the one she knew back on the ground, the one she loved back on the ground - is dead. In his place, a new Bellamy Blake, one that's on the cadet force and doesn't trust her, maybe even hates her.

To be fair, she doesn't blame him.