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Clarke turned to her beloved daughter when she approached. She saw fear in and insecurity in her eyes and she could not for a moment blame her. This had been a scary night. She had to stay away while she knew Clarke was in pain, her only companion. They relied on each other in ways they had not really verbalized, but probably both knew all too well. Clarke got up gingerly from where she was crouched next to the fire to stir the breakfast she was preparing. Naturally she was still in a great deal of pain, but that was to be expected. It was perfectly normal, too, after giving birth. Her movements would remain a bit slower at the moment.

"He is perfectly healthy." She said softly to her adoptive daughter as she approached her and wrapped her arms gently around the child she had come to call her own more and more. Now they were three. Now they had a little baby to take care of, too. She thought they could do it. She thought they would be able to do it. They had to be. The little boy relied on them, now. He was helpless. He needed them both. "He is a little natblida, healthy and sleepy at the moment." Clarke went to the basket with her and carefully picked the now cleaned up newborn baby up to show her adoptive daughter. He scrunched his little face up a little as the sun hit it, but settled moments later. "Isn't he adorable?" She asked her. Adorable but she had the feeling, that he would take after his father quite a lot. That would be difficult in a few years, when the bunker opened. What if people suspected to know who his father was? How long would she be able to keep that secret? For now everything was okay. All of them were okay. "It all went well, Madi."

"Madi, go to your safe place tonight." Clarke said calmly to her now adoptive daughter. She had prepared Madi for it in a way. She had told her that it would be relatively soon that the little baby would join them here in Shallow Valley. As she saw her daughter off to her little hiding spot, Clarke rubbed her belly, even though she knew fully well that it would do nothing to numb the pain she was experiencing. She knew the baby was coming. Clarke was afraid. In many ways very afraid. One: She hoped it would be quick and it would be okay. And she hoped the baby would be able to survive. There was a chance it would not be. But Clarke did not want to think about the worst case scenario. Besides her brain did not exactly allow for much thought.

Her night was long until finally her little boy screamed in her arms, happy healthy and as it seemed with black blood, nightblood, the essence of what would make him able to survive. After feeding him, she just lay holding him close until she saw the sun rise. With the baby sleeping, Clarke got up to clean up a little and wrap her son into something nice, to make sure all looked nice and well for a childs eyes when Madi came home. Putting the baby in a basket she went outside and started to make breakfast for Madi and herself. She was starving and tired, but happy in a way. She had a baby now. She had two children now. She was humming happily.

        Everything seemed horrible in this place. She had peace and now her friends were so changed, changed that she didn't feel like she could connect with them anymore. She had feared Leia to be similar. Why would she be the exception? Niylah was so very different, Octavia was unrecognizable. She even saw it in Bellamys eyes, he, too, did barely recognize his sister. She didn't think that look was possible. And yet it was happening. But then there was Leia. There she was, her arms around her, warm, welcoming and just as she had remembered it. A single tear slid over Clarkes cheek. She was so glad to be able to hold Leia again. There was so much she had been through and she had changed, too, but she knew the old Clarke was still there. She still wanted her friend. She still wanted to be close to Leiana.

        "I...am, too." She said. "When I heard so many died, I feared you were one of them." And it was possible. But she was kind, too kind for this place, she felt. And yet she survived. She was so glad. "I am so glad to see you!" She gently stroked through her friends dark hair and smiled at her. "So much changed. I have a kid now...basically at least." And she guessed some things happened with Leia. "You will have to come to Shallow Valley with us. You will love your village. So many colors. We have berries and fish and can you believe I can actually cook now? Not half bad even."

Clarke dreamed. As she was dying - or so she thought - she was dreaming. She held a newborn in her arms, a precious mixture of her and Lincoln, the man she wanted to call her husband and in her mind she saw him as that already. What did a paper mean to them? Nothing. And in her dreams it was out of this world. They were a unit. Lincoln, her and their baby, their hope for the future. She wanted to stay in her dreams. She wanted to feel this precious soft baby in her arms, wanted to touch soft skin to her own, show the child a lush garden with more food than what they knew to do with, a night sky and tell it stories of generations before them. It was lovely. 

For days Clarke Griffin rung with death. In her mind her dream of the soft child switched with images of her past, mount weather, Lincolns face when she almost locked out the grounders, the tears in her eyes as she realized that she might be the bad guy now. The pain of losing Arkadia as a viable solution, mourning people as she made a list and included him for no other reason than love and the knowledge that he could...make babies, he was fertile. It broke her heart back then, but those were her nightmares. In these bad moments her fever spiked, sometimes she even thrased, other times her heart was close to ceasing to beat. Her body fought hard, but ultimately what made her win that fight after seven days of essentially dying, was not her own body. As her fever broke, one of natures miracles had happened. 

On the eigth day as the blondes heartbeat became stronger, eventually her eyes fluttered open. The lab remained unfocussed to her as confusion held her. A little bit of fever still remained but that would fade, too. Clarke looked around. She made out a sillhouette, a familiar one, one that she loved more than anything in her life. "L...Linc..." She croaked. She remembered, slowly, his last words to her, her last words to him. The radiation. It should have killed her. How could she possibly be alive? It couldn't be. Yet at the same time it seemed like it was. She was alive and he was here. Or was this yet another dream? If it was, it was a beautiful one. "Is ...death so beautiful that I get to spend afterlife with you?"

When Clarke was up adjusting the satellite dish, she saw the one thing she never wanted to see: A launching rocket. It could only be one: The one from Beccas lab. Their friends were leaving them behind. For a moment she looked down at the man she shared her life with now, the man who had put his hope into her and likewise. He was her home ow, her future. But the rocket flying through the sky signalled something for her. Not too long ago there was the fight about the nightblood solution. She wanted to inject herself with it, but Lincoln beat her to it. He was a nightblood now. He had a chance to survive it. Clarke did not. For Clarke, that rocket leaving earth equalled her death sentence. And not just hers. It was just days ago that she discovered it, by mere chance even. She hadn't been looking for it, she hadn't felt anything yet, but she was pregnant. And now she would die. She and their unborn child. A tear slipped down her cheek as she finished the dish, knowing really well, that he, too had that idea. She would die of radiation and he would be powerless to stop it, because while he taught her a lot, she couldn't teach him nearly enough about genetics to survive this. 

As she climbed down, she was not prepared to stop. Instead she grabbed his hand and ran, needing to save his life. She wanted him to have one more mission, one last bit of hope to hold on while living alone down here for five years. Five years would be bearable. Five years would be all it took. Or maybe Octavia would let him back into the bunker. He could be valuable there, helpfull. Her mom might be able to make nightblood for the others off him. They could help the earth grow again. And so she ran, ran to cheat death just for a few more minutes, to cheat death for him. For the first time in a long, long time, she wished she could actually be the commander of death, to command it not to take him. It was already taking her and their baby from him. Spare his life, death, she prayed silently, knowing in this future wasteland nothing could hear them.

Once in the lab, she collapsed onto her knees. She felt painful blisters on her face. She knew it was ARS, so acute, that she had mere minutes to live perhaps. And in these minutes, she had to get through to Lincoln. "Linc...." She said as she painfully turned to reach out for him, for his face. It felt more and more like she was losing the pain, like she was floating, her spirit just waiting to leave her body.  "You have to...survive...you have to find the livable land and...prepare it. Our friends might rely on it and....we...we love you so much. I l...I...love...you." She grew weaker by the moment, her eyes finally closing...and yet her breathing never stopped.

Over the course of two days she progressivly became stronger again, her heart beating steadier, breathing becoming stronger, the burns on her face healed even.

It was him then? He had taken Octavia down. For now at least. That in itself showed that the Bellamy in front of her was a different man. He was different, but not necessarily in a bad way. He had done what had to be done before, but his loyalty sometimes stopped him even though it should not have in that case. Now, it seemed different. He had stopped his sister from doing something that might have ultimately killed the etire human race. But it was his sister and as he told her he had poisoned her, she felt the guilt. It was as if it was a tangible layer around him, telling her and everyone else, who would look closely, that he felt pain and deep regret over having to do that. Clarke felt differently. She had a child now. She raised Madi and had learned some valuable lessons through it. Sometimes proctecting someone meant protecting them against their own will, protecting them from themselves even.

Clarke reached out and placed a hand on his arm, hoping that pyhsical contact would ground him in this world, would help him focus on what was right in front of him and that was not her. It was what had made him do it. "Sometimes protecting someone means to protect them from themselves." She told him. "Like you tried to protect me from myself years ago." It was when he cuffed her to a table, to make her stay at home, to get her away from the grounders, to protect her from what he beleived to be suicide, her walkingi to the grounders, potentially to be killed, alienating her own people and generally putting her life at risk through her questionable choices. "When you cuffed me to the table. You tried to protect me from myself. I didn't understand it then, but I understand it now. Maybe she will understand it soon enough. But, you tried to protect her. And you tried to protect her people. You protected humanity. You did what you had to. And she had a choice." She had been given the choice to bury the ideas of war. She had the choice to lay down the weapons, march to the valley and live in peace. She could have ended a circle of violence that they had been trapped in ever since they had been on the ground and it always occured when they were together. It was time to break it. They all had families in a way. Clarkes daughter was in a dangeorus place now, thanks to Octavia.