Saviors ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥

131. ꕥ After The World Ends

"Ouch." John quipped, though I knew he was grasping into my fearsome tone — he was good like that, always knowing what was wrong and what to do, which wasn't always necessarily comforting me with words; nonetheless, in this instance, it was exactly what I needed. "You got this, Jo. I know that sounds kinda simple to be telling an upcoming parent, but it's true. You're still not alone. You have Octavia, the queen of the Grounders. And Kane. Let them help. Don't push them away. You are going to raise this child better than we were. They are going to be great. Trust me."

A smile found its way into my face, listening to John's whole speech that was so uncharacteristic of him. His words were more soothing than I would ever be able to tell him, my fears not completely subsiding, but after hearing what John said, my confidence grew a little bit greater. He was right — I still had so many people in this bunker I could rely on; just because he and Bellamy were gone didn't mean I was in this alone. That revelation contributed massively to my dwindling fears.

I let out a breath after a beat. "And you're a badass, too, by the way."

"It's okay, Jo. You don't have to lie." Remarked John.

"No, it's true." I maintained, assuredly, using my feet to turn side to side on the swivel chair I was sitting in. "Everything you've endured on the ground should've killed you. But it didn't. You are, like... impossible to kill.

"Like a cockroach?" He queried.

My face scrunched in confusion for a moment, eyes rolling in their place at his bizarre observation. "Yeah, I guess. Like a cockroach."

"Yeah, uh, Raven actually called me that. Kinda fitting, don't you think?"

"So you two are getting along?"

"I guess. I mean, until this crazy plan of Bellamy's fails, and we all die." John's tone was meant to be joking, but the mention of that singular name had my body going rigid, my hand clasping tightly to the chair's armrest, knuckles turning a quick shade of white with my abnormally tight grip. Somehow I think John could sense my hostility through the radio where he was two hundred miles away physically — it must be that stupid twin telepathy thing that always seemed to tell John exactly what was going on with me. "I'm sorry."

"No. No, it's okay." I shook my head, trying to literally shake this feeling in the pit of my stomach that surely didn't have anything to do with the baby. "It wasn't you."

"He was just trying to protect you, Jo."  John attempted to reason, his voice beginning to tune out of my ears subconsciously.

"He left me here, John. Took away my choice." I rebutted with distaste, a wave of anger traveling through my body. "If it weren't for him, I'd be with you right now."

John sighed. "I know, okay. Bellamy was just doing what he thought was right. No matter how stupid it was. You should — you should talk to him."

"No. No! Absolutely not. I don't want to talk to him. I don't even want to think about him." I fumed, my hand releasing its death grip on the chair to bang against the table as I spoke, using it as a form of enunciation. "He doesn't have the right to talk to me, not anymore. You tell him I said that."

"I can't tell him that, Jo." John refused quietly.

"Why the hell not?" I exclaimed loudly, surely loud enough for Octavia — if she were still on the other side of that door — to hear.

"Because he's already tearing himself up about leaving you and the baby. I don't want to make him feel worse."

"I don't give a damn how he feels. He should have thought about that before leaving my child and me here." I shouted, shooting up from my spot in the chair, enclosing my fist before I pressed it into the wood of the table. "Because of what he's done, he's not going to get to be a part of this child's life. It doesn't matter if they share DNA. If you all make it back down here, Bellamy Blake will never get to be a part of this child's life!"