Wellven post-S3? just Wells helping Raven deal with the aftermath of ALIE and, you know, trying to save the world?
a/n: Working with the premise in this edit.
Raven plowed through the mess hall crowd, swearing at anyone who came close to knocking her plate of food to the floor. With the world ending (again) and them having to save it (again), she didn’t have time to do things twice. Except, well, the apocalypse-averting calculations…those she did more than twice.
She found the delinquent lunch table easily enough. So focused on starting to shovel in her meager rations, Raven had already taken a few bites before registering who besides Clarke was sitting at their table. Bellamy (of course), as well as Monty and Miller and Bryan, and diagonal from her was Wells. The neon glow of his eye caught her for a second, and she nearly choked on her potato.
She was used to the technology that was now a part of Wells, the stuff that had saved his life. (ALIE had been evil, but she knew her shit when it came to tech). Not everyone was okay with it though, but Clarke, Abby, and Kane made sure that no one bothered their resurrected friend. For her, it wasn’t the tech that made her stare at her plate instead of Wells, but rather the fact that she had seen too much of him. It was awkward enough if you happened to be sitting across from someone who you’ve seen naked; it was entirely more awkward sitting across from someone who you’ve seen the actual inner workings of, in this case literally.
There had been no one except her equipped to inspect Wells’ build and circuitry–both for longevity and for absence of influence by ALIE after her defeat. He was gracious about it, cracking soft jokes to lessen the tension of what she was doing and what she might have to do if she found traces of ALIE. There had been no ALIE to be found, and she’d made some improvements for their worsening conditions on Earth, but since then, Raven hadn’t been able to look him square in the eye. Not after sharing something so…intimate.
Irritation rose, and she huffed before taking another large bite.
“Problem?” Bellamy muttered.
Raven almost snapped at him for the comment, but when she glanced up, there was real concern in his expression. Her shoulders dropped as she realized he was worried about their actual problem–saving the world–not her very minor, ridiculous problem of being awkward around Wells.
“Nope.” She gulped her last piece of dry potato as she stood, then whisked her plate away. As she stalked out of the hall, she could feel someone’s stare following her. Raven didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
She picked up her pace as she headed for the door.
For the third time that night, the nuclear reactor plans blurred in front of her. Raven rubbed her eyes, but they only cleared a little bit. Pressing the palms of her hands against her sockets, she sighed in exhaustion. The clock to detonation day was counting down, and she wished she felt better about their plan. It was good (of course it was good, because it was her plan) but good wasn’t perfect.
The sound of a slightly off-kilter gait with a metallic ring made her tense, but she didn’t glance up from the plans. Something was set down in front of her. She kept examining the plans. The something moved closer. Her glance traced the building outlines again and again until she couldn’t anymore, because there was a plate with cold but not entirely unappetizing food on it blocking her view.
Raven briefly closed her eyes before looking up in defeat. Wells was just standing there, hands in his pockets, his mouth twisted into a wry, shy smile.
“You weren’t at dinner,” he said quietly as she continued to stare.
His smile widened. “So I brought you food. Because you weren’t at dinner.”
“You should eat the food.”
His teasing made her roll her eyes, but Raven still pulled the plate closer and popped a bite into her mouth. It wasn’t tasty by any means, but her stomach growled happily. Suddenly she was starving, and before she knew it, she was almost finished with the meal.
“Thanks,” she managed sheepishly after swallowing her last bite.
Wells chuckled, ducking his head. “Wouldn’t do if my–our savior starved herself.”
Raven felt her cheeks flush as she registered the slip. Then she noticed how Wells had lowered his head further and was shaking it back in forth in embarrassment. It startled a laugh out of her, but one that was soft, light.
“Wells,” she drawled. His head stayed where it was. “Wells?”
He finally looked up, a little nervous. Leaning over, Raven placed her hand over his, squeezed, and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said with emphasis. Her thumb brushed once over his, and a little electric thrill went through her when he did the same. They stayed like that for who knows how long. Then, all of a sudden, it seemed like she blinked, and he was gone.
Wells came back. To bring her food, at first, then he brought company, then advice, then well-intentioned criticism. Most importantly, he gave her someone she could combat with one minute, then laugh with the next. The more days she spent with Wells–and the closer they got to boom goes the world–the more confident she became. In her plans, and in him.
So it was a heavy heart that she handed off a survival pack to him. It made sense for him to be on one of the teams headed to shut down the reactors. He understood the plans almost as well as she did. There was no one she trusted more to do the job, or to come back from it. Even so, her eyes burned with tears as Wells shouldered his pack. As she began running down her list of reminders again, he sighed.
“Raven.” Her name came out like a plea and an apology at the same time, and then he pulled her in. She didn’t crumple in his arms, even though she wanted to. It wasn’t the time; she hadn’t lost him yet. Raven had lost too many people to want to mourn them before they were really gone. Instead, she twisted her fingers into his shirt and breathed him in, deeply enough to last her until he returned.
“Come back,” was all she said. Wells kissed the top of her head in farewell, which was a promise of its own kind, because he understood more than the plans. He understood her.
They talked every night over the radio. Reporting of the team’s progress on his end and of the headway in fortifying their newly built bunker on hers always came first, but their practical conversations also always gave way to talking of other things. Raven knew it kept them both sane, that the crackle and hiss of the radio clicking on each night told them that neither of them were alone.
Then one day that crackle didn’t come, and she knew they were out of range. That was good; salvation would be upon them all soon. She knew that, but her heart still seized up with panic.
He’d come back. He had to; she wouldn’t allow herself to calculate the probability of any other possibility.
Raven never hated the slow pace that her injury imposed more than the day that Wells walked back through the gates. He was back: whole, alive, bloody but breathing, and she was moving too damn slow. As soon as he saw her charging his way, though, he was off like a shot. When he reached her, her breath left her as he swept her up into a tight embrace. His arms around her, strong and safe, opened the floodgates. She cried hard, fast, and ugly tears into his shoulders. Her nose clogged up, and she was coughing out relieved sobs as she pulled back.
His eyes were also wet, but he managed a tiny chuckle before asking, “So you missed me, huh?”
Raven couldn’t even muster up a sliver of feigned annoyance. She was too relieved, so she just grasped his face in her hands and kissed him hard. His lips were dry, blistered, but soon she couldn’t feel anything but his hands sliding across her back as he arched her towards him. Every place he touched her felt singed, and her pulse stuttered as he roughly took over the kiss. A few more tears–happy ones–leaked out, and when they both tasted them mid-kiss, they pulled back laughing.
“My savior,” she murmured, half-teasing, more than half-serious.
Wells rolled his eyes then rubbed his nose against hers. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Literally. There would be no safe place on the ground right now without you and your brilliant mind.”
She shrugged, running her fingers over his cheekbones. “I’m willing to come to an agreement about sharing credit.”
“Next time I leave camp, it’s because I’m taking you on vacation. God knows you deserve one.”
Raven tipped her head back and laughed before nuzzling into his solid chest again, breathing easy as he embraced her tightly, lovingly.
“I’ll go anywhere you go,” she promised, and never had any truth felt so right coming from her lips.
