Raven Reyes was beyond frustrated.

She couldn't fix their lack of rocket fuel. She couldn't fix their lack of literally any food that wasn't algae. She certainly couldn't fix their lack of Clarke, and as a result she couldn't fix their distinct lack of morale. The thing that she most wished she could fix, but was least able to fix, was the fact that Bellamy Blake had literally not left his room for 36 hours and had spent most of those sobbing so loudly that the whole sodding Ring could hear him.

Frustrated didn't even begin to cover it.

With a harsh cry she took a kick at the work bench in front of her. In doing so, she put all of her weight onto her bad leg, overbalanced, went flying a couple of feet forward and took what felt like enough spare wires to light up the Ring like an ironic halo down with her as she crashed to the floor.

She groaned somewhat and wondered whether there was really any point in getting up at all.

She gave herself about ten seconds, then remembered that she was, after all, not a woman made to sit still. And apart from anything else, something pretty bulky was digging into her ribs. Rolling to the side, she realised it was an old radio set that she must have knocked off the table as she fell. With a critical eye she established that it was, in fact, a total piece of junk that should have burnt in Hell when Praimfaiya hit.

What a stroke of good luck. She really hoped her assessment proved correct – a piece of junk to fix up for literally no good reason was exactly what she needed right now.

It might be completely foolish to waste her time on it when she should be figuring out a way to synthesize rocket fuel. It was more than likely completely futile considering the increased radiation that came with the death wave would probably block the signal. And, ultimately, it would probably be more than frustrating when she realised there was no one left alive on Earth to hear her.

But none of that mattered right now. What mattered right now was that Raven Reyes had a piece of junk to fix, and fixing pieces of junk was what she did best.

Sure enough, an hour later she was pretty confident the thing was working. Of course, "working" was a pretty abstract concept when it concerned a communication tool in a world where there was no one to communicate with. Either way, she'd accomplished her goal and could already feel the frustration ebbing out of her system.

She knew that this was the point where she should step away and get on with something useful. There was algae to be stewed, after all. And she should probably write some more random jottings on that whiteboard so that when Emori next popped in to ask how the rocket fuel problem was going she could pretend she was making progress. And, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, she remembered that she'd promised Monty that she'd try to convince Bellamy to come out of his room for just a little while to take a shower and then eat with them.

But, if she were being honest with herself, she felt absolutely no inclination to attempt any of those thankless tasks. She couldn't really see any of them resulting in anything that resembled her definition of success. And besides which, curiosity was a good attribute in a mechanic, she reckoned.

Without giving herself time to overthink it, she pressed the call button and started talking to no one.

If she'd stopped to think about it, Raven might have argued to herself that there was some hope of a message getting through. It was eighteen months since Praimfaiya had first hit so the radiation levels, although still too high for them to survive on the surface, might not completely wipe out the radio signals. Perhaps, if she was very lucky, she'd be able to get through to the bunker.

In reality, she didn't really stop to think about any of those things. She just acted on the instinct that procrastinating with her new project was likely to be far more entertaining than yelling at Bellamy Blake's closed bedroom door.

"This is The Ring, calling Earth, does anyone read me?"

Silence.

She fiddled with the frequency a little and tried again.

"This is The Ring, calling Earth, does anyone read me?"

Another spot of faffing.

"This is The Ring, calling Earth, does anyone read me?"

"Is there... is there anyone down there? Anyone in the bunker? Octavia? …. anyone?"

She choked into silence.

She'd been wrong, she realised. Fixing this radio, only to learn there was no one alive to hear her, had made her day worse after all.

With a heavy sigh, she carefully replaced the headset. Slowly, she stood up and began to make her way towards the door. She needed to get out of here.

"Raven?" The radio crackled into life. "Raven? Are you there?"

She froze immediately, hand suspended in midair half way towards the door controls.

Taking a deep breath, she strode back to the radio.

"Clarke?"

"Raven! Raven it's me! Oh thank God. You're alive. You're alive."

"Never mind me, you're alive. How on Earth did you manage that one?"

"Becca's bunker, nightblood, and a can-do attitude." Raven could hear the smile in her friend's voice. She laughed in relief.

"Wow. I... wow. That's incredible, Clarke. This... this is real, right? I'm not hallucinating?"

"Totally real, I promise. Either that or we're both hallucinating together."

"You have no idea how great it is to hear your voice."

"Right back at you."

"How are you? How's the ground?"

"I'm fine, actually. I was pretty sick at first but then the nightblood kicked in. And the ground's not bad really, there's this valley that the death wave pretty much missed, so... Enough about me. How are you? How's space?"

"We're good, Clarke. We're all alive. No thanks to Monty's algae!"

"How's... how's Bellamy?"

"He.. um... I think probably you should ask that for yourself. He took it pretty hard, leaving you behind. I'll go get him. Don't go anywhere!"

Raven was pretty sure this was the fastest that she had run since getting shot in the spine. She could feel her brace skidding on the corners as she rushed towards Bellamy's room. She knocked furiously on the door.

There was, unsurprisingly, no response.

"Bellamy, open the door!"

Silence.

"I'm telling you, you're going to want to open this door. I have news you will want to hear."

Nothing.

"Fine, I guess I'll tell you the first good news we've had in literally years through a closed door. Don't say I didn't warn you."

She went for it.

"Clarke survived. She's on the radio. She -"

The door was flung open in her face, and there stood Bellamy Blake, resplendent in a pair of stained grey boxers, a shocked expression and about four days of stubble on his face.

He managed to choke out a somewhat strangled "Really?" and wait for Raven's answering nod before he set off at full pelt down the corridor. She watched him go, laughing from sheer happiness at the sight of his fast-retreating back.

a/n Thanks for reading! I hope to have the next chapter up soon.