Homecoming

Wells fell silent as hope and dread battled for supremacy in his already overtaxed brain. There was a chance that his father’s injury hadn’t been as serious as it’d appeared, that he’d made a full recovery and was making his way down to Earth. Then again, there was also a chance that the Chancellor was still clinging to life in the medical center—or worse, already floating still and silent among the stars. What would he do if his father didn’t disembark from one of those dropships? How could Wells go on knowing that he’d never get to win the Chancellor’s forgiveness for the terrible crimes Wells committed back on the Colony?

Wells tore his eyes away and twisted around to look across the fire. Clarke had turned to look at him, and they locked eyes, which filled Wells with a flood of sudden gratitude. They didn’t have to exchange a single word. She understood his mixture of relief and dread. She knew how much he stood to gain or lose when those doors opened.

“He’s going to be so proud of you,” Sasha said, squeezing Wells’s hand.

Despite his anxiety, Wells felt his face soften into a smile. Sasha understood too. Even though she’d never met Wells’s father, even though she’d never witnessed their complicated relationship, she also knew what it was like to grow up with a parent responsible for the well-being of an entire community. Or in Wells’s case, a parent responsible for all known survivors of the human race. Sasha’s father was the leader of the Earthborns, just as Wells’s father was leader of the Colony. She knew what it meant to bear the weight of that duty. Sasha understood that being a leader was as much a sacrifice as it was an honor.

Wells looked around the fire at the gaunt, exhausted faces of the nearly one hundred teenagers who’d survived the traumatic first few weeks on Earth. Normally, the sight filled him with various degrees of worry as he fretted about food stores and other rapidly dwindling supplies, but this time, all he felt was relief. Relief and pride. They’d done it. Despite the odds, they’d survived, and now help was on its way. Even if his father wasn’t on one of those dropships, there would be huge amounts of rations, tools, medicine—everything they needed to make it through the upcoming winter and beyond.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on the new arrivals’ faces when they saw how much the hundred had accomplished. They had certainly made some mistakes along the way, and there had been horrible losses—Asher and Priya, almost Octavia—but there had been triumphs too.

Wells turned his head and saw Sasha staring at him in concern. He grinned, and before she had time to react, he tangled his fingers in her glossy hair and brought his lips to hers. She seemed surprised at first, but soon relaxed into him and kissed him back. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then stood. It was time to tell the others.

He shot a quick glance at Clarke, silently asking for her consent. She pressed her lips together and turned briefly to Bellamy before meeting Wells’s eyes and nodding.

Wells cleared his throat, which caught a few people’s attention, but not many. “Can everyone hear me?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the buzz of conversation and the crackle of flames.

A few meters away, Graham exchanged a sneer with one of his Arcadian friends. When they’d first landed on Earth, he’d led the charge against Wells, trying to convince the others that the Chancellor’s son had been sent as a spy. And while most of the hundred had grown loyal to Wells, Graham hadn’t lost all his power—there was still a considerable portion of the camp who feared Graham more than they trusted Wells.

Lila, a pretty Waldenite who fawned over Graham, whispered something to him, then giggled loudly at whatever he whispered back.

“Will you shut up?” Octavia snapped, shooting them a dark look. “Wells is trying to talk.”

Lila glared at Octavia and muttered something under her breath, but Graham looked mildly amused. Maybe it was because Octavia had spent less time in camp than the others, but she was one of the few who wasn’t intimidated by Graham, and she was willing to stand up to him.

“What’s going on, Wells?” Eric asked. The tall, serious-faced Arcadian was holding the hand of his boyfriend, Felix, who’d recently recovered from a mysterious illness. Though naturally undemonstrative, Eric’s relief had temporarily overpowered his reserve. Wells hadn’t seen him let go of Felix’s hand all day.

Wells smiled. Soon, they wouldn’t have to worry about battling strange diseases. There would be fully trained doctors on those dropships. Doctors with more medicine than there had been on Earth in centuries.

“We did it,” Wells said, unable to contain his excitement. “We lasted long enough to prove that Earth is survivable, and the others are on their way.” He pointed up at the sky with a grin.