Ok, I have no idea where this idea came from but it would not leave me alone! Enjoy! :)
Chapter 1
Clarke walked away, feeling as though the weight of the world pressed down on her shoulders. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She deserved to suffer for what she'd done, deserved the self-imposed loneliness. She was selfish; she couldn't face them everyday and see the looks of hatred and betrayal.
Bellamy's words echoed in her mind, his offering of forgiveness ringing in her heart. His declaration had lessened her guilt for a moment, and that's when she knew she couldn't stay.
She had to leave. Even he would grow to hate her when he discovered what really happened in Tondc- how she left his sister to die. That was one thing she couldn't bear. She could handle Jasper's hate, her mother's indifference, and Octavia's anger, but she couldn't survive Bellamy's revulsion.
So, Clarke walked away- away from her friends and the people who'd become so much more. The shady forest enveloped her, the quiet allowing her to think. Her mind was filled with images of Level 5, and the people who would never see the stars or feel the warmth of sunrise.
She'd done what she had to do to save her people, her responsibility. They wouldn't understand. They would see her as a monster even as they embraced their families, a moment made possible only by her sacrifice.
Her steps faltered and she fell to the ground. A savage cry tore from her throat where she lay in the dirt. A sob erupted, resounding in the quiet. She dragged a shaky breath into her burning lungs; despair making it difficult to breathe.
Clarke got up, not even bothering to brush the dust and debris that now covered her clothes. She continued on her way, stumbling through the dense vegetation not even registering where she was headed.
She walked for hours, her thoughts racing over everything she'd done. Guilt oozed from every pore of her body; tainting her skin and everything she touched. Her vision blurred in and out of focus, and her mind clouded with exhaustion.
She looked up finally, to see where her feet had taken her. At the sight of the looming structure, one of her hands moved unbidden to cover her mouth- muffling the ragged sobs.
Mount Weather lay before her, a tomb concealing its dead and acting as a bitter reminder. This place was the reason she'd committed so many atrocities, it was the mountain's fault she'd become a monster.
Clarke entered the complex, wandering through the empty halls until she reached Level 5. She entered the dining room, the stench of death burning her nose and gagging her.
She pulled her shirt up over her face, walking past the rotting corpses until suddenly a sharp cry echoed in the silence. She immediately pulled her knife from its scabbard at her belt, her first instinct being to kill before being killed.
Then she spotted a little boy, huddled in the corner. He had dark curls, just like a certain rebel she knew. The sight stole her breath, and she found herself quickly making her way across the room.
The child shrank back, a look of horror on his face. Drawing closer, Clarke could see that he was one of the Mt. Weather children.
She knelt before him, whispering what she hoped were words of comfort. The boy's clothing was spattered with blood, and his eyes darted about the room fearfully.
Clarke felt her stomach roll, but she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She had killed this little boy's family! She reached out slowly, ignoring the way he seemed to draw in on himself.
"Hi", she whispered, "What's your name?"
"Bryce", the little boy whispered.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Bryce, I'm going to get you out of here."
She saw the look of hope in the little boy's eyes, and immediately reached out to take his hand. When his tiny fingers intertwined with hers, she stood, leading him from the room- neither looking back.
Clarke took Bryce through the living quarters looking for anything he could use. She found a small backpack, filling it with clothing they found along the way. She only took what he needed, not bothering worry about herself.
When she was sure she'd gathered enough, she helped him into a pair of jeans and a little green sweater before slipping some sturdy shoes on his feet.
"There", she said, "Now we can go."
Clarke began walking, until a little hand grasped her own. She looked down at Bryce, his little face plastered with the biggest smile she'd ever seen. She found herself smiling in return, her grip tightening on his hand.
She led the little boy out of the mountain, and back into the forest. She would have to find them something to eat because she knew the dark haired urchin had to be hungry.
Clarke found a little outcropping of rocks near a stream. She knelt before Bryce, her hands moving to grip his tiny shoulders.
"I want you to go and sit over there", she said, motioning to the rocks, "While I go and get us something to eat. I'll stay where you can see and hear me, ok."
She watched as the little boy nodded, taking his bag and going to sit where she'd indicated. After insuring that he was alright, Clarke moved to the stream. She found a stick, sharpening the end to a pointed tip.
She stepped into the water, her gaze searching for movement. She was soon rewarded when a group of fish swam by. She speared on of them, pulling its flopping body from the stream. She laid it on the bank, and then went back to the task at hand.
Clarke caught two more, stringing the three together with a bit of twine and then going to retrieve Bryce. She took his hand in her own, walking through the brush and trying to find a safe place to sleep for the night.
She finally found one of the bunkers, opening the hatch and moving down the ladder with the little boy right on her heels. She looked around the space, lighting one of the candles and then helping Bryce up onto the only cot.
"You stay here while I cook our fish. I'll be right up there, don't come up unless I tell you too."
Clarke waited for the little boy to nod before ascending the ladder and building a fire. Fish cooked quickly, and soon she was bringing the smoking meat back to Bryce where he still sat on the cot.
They at in silence, the little boy's eyes beginning to droop with each bite he took. Clarke finished her meal, lying down to face the wall with Bryce at her back.
He sat there for a moment, and then he lay down and curled up against her back. Sometime in the night she felt him shiver, and snuggle closer. She rolled over, surprised when he quickly huddled against her chest.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. He let out a little snore, bringing a smile to her face. She didn't sleep much that night, but she found she wasn't plagued with nightmares or her overwhelming guilt.
The next morning Clarke readied to leave, Bryce chattering nonstop about the fish and everything he'd seen on their trek the day before. His childish babbling brought a smile to Clarke's face as she watched him speak, his hands gesturing wildly.
They climbed from the bunker, Bryce quickly taking her hand in his. That day's walk was much more pleasant with the little boy pointing out clouds and making up stories.
He would run ahead, picking handfuls of flowers and bringing them back. On one of his many trips, he handed her a tiny fistful of purple blooms. He smiled, offering his gift.
"Here Momma", he said.
Clarke gasped; she'd only known the little boy for a little over twenty-four hours. She didn't speak, but thankfully he began to explain himself as he bent to pick more flowers.
"I never had a momma, but I always wanted one. So, you can be my Momma if you want", he said hesitantly.
She should stop him, tell him that he couldn't call her that, but for some reason it felt right.
"I would love to be your Momma, Bryce", Clarke said with a smile.
She watched him as he skipped ahead; his dark curls shining in the bright sunlight. Looking at him, she wondered if this is what Bellamy's children would look like- soft dark curls and warm brown eyes.
She shook her head, dispelling those torturing thoughts. Instead, keeping her gaze trained on the little boy before her. He was speaking, telling a story about a butterfly and a flower becoming friends.
Clarke smiled, stopping when the realization that she had smiled more since meeting Bryce than she had in years. He ran back to her, his tiny arms wrapping around her legs and his little face brightened by an adoring smile.
"I'm hungry, Momma, when will we eat?"
Clarke smiled, ruffling his curls, "How would you like to help me gather berries?"
She chuckled at his excited yip, his little hand clasping her larger one as he began to skip along beside her. They gathered berries for a good hour, Bryce eating more than he managed to hold on to.
The rest of their day was spent walking, the little boy's constant chatter keeping the mood light. They stopped that night when Clarke found yet another bunker. They ate the berries she had left, and then curled up on the cot- the little boy once again curled in her arms.
The weeks passed in a blur of routine, Clarke caring for the little boy who already had her wrapped around his little finger. His hugs became more frequent, and if she stopped to sit Bryce would immediately crawl into her lap.
She should have been consumed with guilt, but instead Bryce seemed to absolve her of it. Insuring that he survived helped her move past all the lives she'd taken in that mountain.
When he became too tired to walk, she carried him. His little arms wrapped around her neck, and his legs dangling at her hips. At night they slept in one of the bunkers, his small body curled against her.
He would talk, telling her all about his imaginary world with his head lying on her shoulder. However, he soon said something that caused her to stop dead in her tracks.
"I love you, Momma", he said softly, his little fingers playing with her hair.
Clarke was silent for a moment then it dawned on her. This little boy already felt as though he was hers, her child.
"I love you too, sweetheart", she said, patting his back.
One day they were walking through an open field searching for food, Bryce running ahead. When suddenly Clarke spotted something in the shadows near the tree line.
"Bryce", she called softly, "Come here."
The little boy turned to look at her, but continued on his way.
The next time she spoke, her voice was sharp and insistent.
"Bryce, come here."
The little boy still didn't listen. Suddenly a mangled wolf came sprinting into the field, and Clarke felt her heart leap into her throat.
"Bryce", she screamed.
The little boy saw the danger; his little face awash with fear as he tried to get back to her. Thankfully she reached him in time, shoving him behind her as the big dog advanced.
She had no gun, only her knife, but something inside her rose up, determination like she'd never known. She faced the wolf, tracking its movements and trying to anticipate the pounce.
When it sprang, it knocked her to the ground, its teeth sinking into her side tearing and ripping her flesh. She could hear Bryce's screams mixed with the wolf's growls. Then she plunged the knife into its neck, the animal falling atop her as its lifeblood flowed from the fatal wound.
She the wolf off of her, wincing at the deep punctures marring the flesh that covered her ribs. Then Bryce was in her arms, his little body shaking with his sobs.
"I'm sorry, Momma", he cried.
"Shhh, it's not your fault", Clarke crooned, "Momma took care of it, now there's nothing else to fear."
The little boy shuddered, his sobbing changing to a series of gasping hiccups. She rubbed his back, smiling has his little hands wove through her hair. For some reason, if he was ever distressed or unsure he would gently stroke her hair between his tiny fingers.
She stood, Bryce still in her arms, ignoring the fire this action ignited in the deep wounds on her side. She carried him, until she couldn't move anymore. They stopped near a group of trees, and she decided they would stay there for the night.
Clarke sat down, her back against one of the massive oaks- the bark digging into her skin. The little boy in her arms had long ago fallen asleep, his head lolling against her shoulder.
She sat in the silence, her skin sticky with her blood and exhaustion settling over her like a woolen blanket. She leaned her head back, wondering if Bellamy was looking at the same stars she was. Her eyes soon closed of their own will, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Clarke woke to Bryce stirring in her arms. He sat up, his curls sticking out all over his head and his brown eyes clouded with sleep.
"Good morning, little man", Clarke croaked.
"Morning, Momma", the little boy said as he stretched his thin arms above his head.
Clarke got him up, deciding they would both need to wash today. She would wash the clothes he was wearing, and clean her cuts. She led him to a nearby stream, letting him strip off to his underwear and jump in.
She rinsed his clothes, scrubbing at the dirt and grime before laying them in the sun to dry. She gently cleaned the deep punctures on her side, taking in the deep red that was beginning to spread out from them.
She did the best she could, but she knew that wouldn't be enough. The thought that she would fall ill, leaving Bryce to care for her made her sick. As much as she hated to, something had to be done. Something she didn't look forward to.
Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me your thoughts! :)