Octavia came, but she left the bowl and cloth and took Nova from me. They went to hang out outside while I took Clarke's clothes off and tossed them to the side. I took care with sponging her, refusing to let her do it. "Dammit, Clarke," I groused without heat. "I didn't get to be there for the birth. At least give me this."

That made her stop. I was learning how to get my way...even if I did feel a little cheated to miss out on Nova's first appearance. I didn't even want to say there'd be a next time. Looking at Clarke, how tired she was, how scared we'd both been, I didn't know if I could go through this again.

I washed her everywhere. Her breasts, her legs, and between them. Her underwear probably wasn't going to make it, but the damn things were way past their prime anyway. I tossed them and the dirty cloth in the bowl when I was done, then pulled the covers almost up to her chin. I kissed her. "I'm going to get Nova. She's probably hungry."

While I was at it, I was going to check the status of that call to Clarke's mom. She was the only one I trusted to figure out what was happening here now.

"I want to hold her."

"I know, Princess. Be right back."

I went outside. Octavia wasn't where I thought. She was off in the distance, surrounded by...well, hell, how the fuck many people was that?

I strode through the crowd. For once they didn't pay a damn bit of attention to me. They were busy staring at my daughter and my sister, who was proudly showing Nova off. "Look at my niece, bitches. Just check out how perfect she is."

Girls cooed. Dudes grunted, probably feeling their manhoods shrivel up.

Fuckwads, I thought with a shake of my head.

"What's wrong with her hand?" someone asked.

My head whipped around.

But I didn't have to step in. The least likely person in the world did.

"Nothing," Sam declared loud and clear. Her chin was up. Her hair was tied back, and she looked liked she was ready to take the guy on all by her lonesome.

"Jeez, man," Baxter added from the background. "What's wrong with her hand? What's wrong with your head?"

Others gave the guy a hard time, so that was taken care of relatively quickly.

"Keep going, Monty," Monroe cut in. "Was it really bad?"

"How bad could it have been?" Miller asked dryly.

"Bro," Monty said in a tone that left no argument, "you don't even know..."

"That's enough, kiddies," I interjected in a loud voice. Everybody turned like they'd had no idea I was there.

I pushed through them and took her from Octavia, who almost didn't give her up.

I nearly left it at that. What the hell else was I going to say? Nova was here and she was mine.

But I found myself pausing, giving them all a speculative glance. "Clarke's had a big day," I said. "If you need anything medical, go to Octavia or Monty. They'll help out where they can. Big emergencies, you come and get me. So try to stay out of trouble." I hesitated. "Nova's the first step. In a couple of months it'll be one year since Landing Day. We're making progress, people. Be proud of that."

She was starting to fuss in earnest now, making weak noises in her blanket. I rocked her a little. "Miller, you're in charge. You know where to find me."

He nodded, and I left. Clarke was already anxious when I came back inside, sitting up on the bed. "What took so long?"

"Octavia wanted to show Nova off." I didn't tell her the rest. I simply handed her our daughter and watched as she was held up to Clarke's breast.

I scooted in next to them and wrapped my arm around Clarke, letting her lean into my chest. Nova latched on and the only sounds that filled the air was her feeding.

I couldn't believe how tiny she was. Octavia was small, but that was seventeen years ago. All of my memories were softened by time and that warm glob that stuck around in my chest.

Damn, I loved these women. Clarke. Octavia. Nova. What I felt for each of them was radically different, but what I'd do for them? Exactly the same. "I think she's going to be dark-haired," I remarked after a while.

Clarke hummed, fascinated by the little girl she was holding.

I looked at her golden hair, which was in bad need of a brush, and I couldn't hold it in anymore. "You gave your watch to Monty because you thought you were going to die, didn't you."

She stilled.

I trained my eyes on her. "Don't ever do that again."

"Bellamy..."

I traced her jaw. "No. We're getting that watch back tomorrow. Understand me, Princess? It's nowhere near time for you to give it away."

But she didn't take the hint. "I really thought that might be it for me," she confessed, swallowing, "and it hurt me to know that I'd never see you again."

"We're here. We're together." She couldn't forget that. Couldn't think that there was nothing worth fighting for. "So stick around, alright?"

She smiled. It was a beautiful thing.

Hours later, after a lot of running from the call waginogan to our house and back again, and Dr. Griffin had given us strict instructions, and had seen her granddaughter, and fucking cried (which made Clarke cry, and frankly, my heart just could not take that shit) things had settled down.

Clarke was asleep.

I couldn't sleep.

It felt like if I took my eyes off of either one of them for one single second, they'd disappear again. The nightmare would start over.

I watched Nova nurse. She'd latched alright, but Clarke was too exhausted to actually hold her. It was a kind of turn and passive feed situation. I monitored the situation like a hawk. When she was done, I carefully detached her and shifted the baby against my shoulder to burp. I'd taken my shirt off and made sure to drape a clothe for the inevitable spit up.

Amazing what you remembered. It had been over a decade since I'd done this, but that warm feeling of a small child under my hands came rushing back, causing a weird sense of deja vu.

She was warm, and safe, dressed, in my arms. I knew in the deepest part of me that I was gonna lose a lot of sleep over this kid, and it had nothing to do with the night schedule that was sure to come. "You had a different daddy at the start," I told her.

It felt important to say, even though she was less than a day old. We had to get this off on the right foot.

Almost a year had given me perspective. In the end, Finn was just a kid who died young. I didn't like him, but I didn't hate him. And in a way he'd given me something I'd never let myself hope for. "He can't be here for you, but you don't have to worry. I will never, ever let you down."

"Part of me wishes...that Finn could have seen her," Clarke said quietly from the bed.

I turned. "You're awake?"

"Is that bad of me to admit?"

"Clarke. I'm her father. She's mine. That doesn't mean Finn never existed. We're all just making it up as we go. Nothing's going to change the way I feel about you or about Nova."

"I love you," she said suddenly. "It's not just love. It's adoration, and respect, and commitment. We're connected, and I just wish there was a better way of telling you exactly how I feel."

A year ago, I couldn't see this for myself. Fuck, I couldn't see past the day. There wasn't a point. I was trapped on the Ark, a hard, unforgiving place of harsh light and artificial air. Then I got myself onto a drop shuttle that should have blown up on reentry, but didn't.

If I thought about it, that was when most of us came alive. The real air, the trees, the sun. We fucking exploded all over this planet, and we were making it. We had a home that we carved out day by day. We had problems. We didn't have it easy.

It was all worth it. Every scrap. My sister was alive. My girl was here. We had a daughter. I was a brother, a husband, and a father. Fucking weird how much a year could change a guy who had no options and even fewer hopes.

I reached out and smoothed her hair back. "Go back to sleep. I'll watch over you."

Her eyes were already closing. A second later, she was off in dreamland.

After I finished burping her, I gently laid Nova down on the bed, got undressed, and slipped in beside them. I studied the tiny human being I had accepted and assumed responsibility for, marveling at every detail. Her impossibly small toes. Her mouth. Her ears. Her chin. So little.

I leaned on one arm. "One of these days," I murmured to her, "I'll tell you all about the jungles and the Serengeti, and I'll teach you about lions and wolves. Your mother will show you how to draw and help people, and when she's done I'll teach you how to beat the shit out of anybody who messes with you."

She sighed in a baby sort of snuffle.

I smiled. "But not tonight."

And that was just fine by me.

Epilogue

The block went flying through the air and conked Monty right in the damn noggin. "OW!" he howled, slapping a hand over his wound.

Nova grinned and laughed.

"Nova," I said sternly, exasperated. I put a finger under her chin and gently tilted it up so our eyes met. "Not okay, baby."

Her smile faded. Most of the time she was a great kid—hell, she was only two and a half—and it was all about impulses at this point. I was glad all I had to do was use a serious tone. Wait a few years and we'd probably be having screaming matches.

I walked over with her perched on my hip. "Sorry, man," I said by way of apology. "She launched it before I realized what was happening."

He was still rubbing his forehead. "No problem." He handed over the block. "You gotta admit she's got an arm."

I knew. She'd started throwing her food before she'd even turned one.

Life with a little one was not easy. We had to change the way we did things to make camp safer for her and the three other kids that popped up over the last two years. Accidents happened—Nova had no idea what the hell the word slow meant—but for the most part we were lucky.

Still, this kid was going to worry me into an early grave.

I handed her the block. "Tell Uncle Monty thank you."

"Sank you," she said dutifully.

"Good girl," I praised. It was good to let her know when I was serious, but I didn't have to rub it in. She was a toddler, for crissake.

And just like that, she was happy again.

She had her mother's smile and big brown eyes and a mass of brown hair. She liked it when I braided it. It was our thing.

"How's the garden coming?" I asked Monty.

"Getting the cabbages was a bi—problem, but I think we're going to make it." He stood at the fence, proud.

We'd come a long way in two and a half years. We'd lost a few. One of them to childbirth. That scared the fucking shit out of me all over again. I wasn't ready to consider another kid with Clarke just yet, but she was hinting. I'd asked her to give me three or four more months to get my balls girded, then we'd go for it.

The Ark had landed, so things would be easier. At least we had that. The Ark was doing its own thing. We were doing ours. It worked, though our side-by-side status gave Clarke and me even more responsibility.

Still, we had houses. We had chickens. We had sustainable food sources. We'd figured out how to make clothes from animal hides a long time ago. We were making it. Things with the Grounders weren't peachy, but we were learning to live with each other.

Clarke had made up with her mom, if you could call it that. They'd bonded over Nova, at least. Clarke was grateful for advice.

Raven was spending almost as much time with Nova as Clarke was. She'd even met someone.

Octavia was...Octavia. Still giving me gray hair. I wish I was kidding about that. I was only twenty six, dammit. I had Clarke pull the three or four hairs she'd found, but that shit had to stop.

We were all older. I could see it in our faces, in the way we held ourselves. Life was hard on all of us, but I think we all looked around with pride at what we'd accomplished. The drop ship had become this symbol of before and after for us. We barely used it, but we kept it clean. One of these days we'd have to decide what we'd do with it, but for now we were content to let it be.

Nova started talking to me. She talked about literally everything. Most of it was one word and small sentences, but she was smart. She knew her numbers, she could recognize letters, and she could remember the most random animal names.

The Latin names.

Yeah, my baby girl was a genius.

Having four fingers on one hand instead of five meant we had to adjust a few things, but other than that, she was totally normal. A regular little hellraiser.

I swung her around so that I held her against my chest, facing out, and swayed back and forth while I listened to Monty's report. "Good. Talk to Jasper. Coordinate. You know the drill."

"Aye aye," he tossed out.

"Aye aye," Nova echoed.

Great. "Let's go, baby. It's time to eat."

"Time to eat!"

Then a nap. And if I was really lucky, alone time with Clarke.

We went to the new and improved med center just in time to see Miller marching out, his kid tucked under his arm. He looked annoyed.

I arched a brow.

"Button up the nose," he said by way of explanation. "I'm going to kill the dic—idiot that thought it was a good idea to have those around. If Monroe doesn't kill me first."

Bullshit. Monroe was the laid-back parent.

Hal's face was red and puffy from crying, but other than that, he looked perfectly comfortable hanging there in a good imitation of a sack of wet clothes. Weird kid. Totally reaffirmed my hope that our second would be a girl too.

"See ya."

"Yeah." We ducked into the med center.

Clarke turned, saw us and smiled. Her hair was longer, the braid falling down to her waist. I loved it. "Hey," she said.

"Mama! Aye aye, Mama!"

I rolled my eyes. "Monty."

"Ah." She took Nova. "It's time to eat, huh?"

Nova was busy playing with her block, tracing the design and not paying attention to us boring old parents.

I looked at my daughter and my girl. "Anything big happen?"

"Surprisingly, no. Hal stuck something up his nose again. He's becoming a professional patient."

"Weird kid," I said for the thousandth time.

She smiled at me knowingly. "You can't pick which gender the next will be, Bellamy."

"I can hope, Princess."

She hummed, her head tilting back.

I crowded closer. "Kiss me, Clarke," I murmured to her.

Her smile spread. "Okay."

….my kind of animal...

The End

That's it! We're finally done. A thousand thanks for going on this journey with me.