Author's Note: A small little drabble I had rattling around my brain about a young Bellamy meeting a young Clarke back on the Ark.


The young girl's voice brought Bellamy out of the stunned shock he was currently encased in, sat next to his mother, clutching desperately at her hand as if he could somehow force her to live. The clear tones of the girl cut through the mental fog of his brain.

For one wild, panic induced moment he thought it was Octavia, somehow found in the crawlspace she hated, but then the girl laughed, and he knew it wasn't his sister. O would not have been laughing for a start. The memory of her tear-streaked face as he had hurried her back into her hiding space flickered in his mind. She had been scared and he had been able to do nothing but give her a quick hug and tell her she had to go back into the small, dark place that she hated, all whilst their mother thrashed on the bed across the room, sweating and muttering incoherently.

Pulling his hand free from his mother's hot, clammy one, Bellamy peeked around the tatty curtain that gave his mother a small measure of privacy in the sick bay. The mass of blond hair lit up the sickbay like a ray of sunshine, pushing the muted grey tones to the corners and filling up the room with a cheerful yellow.

No less bright was the smile on the girl's face, as she trailed behind one of the medical staff, dressed in an oversized white lab coat, the sleeves rolled up several times, and a stethoscope around her neck that dangled to her stomach.

Bellamy caught her eye as she turned with the older woman towards his mother. "This is Ms Blake, honey, she has a viral infection and fever, which led to convulsions and hallucinations." The woman turned towards Bellamy, a soft smile on her face. "Hello, I am Dr Griffin, the Chief Medical Officer."

He stuck his hand out with all the awkwardness of a thirteen year old boy remembering his mom's lessons on good manners.

"I hope you don't mind my daughter being here, Bellamy. It's bring your child to work day on the Gro-Sci station."

It took a moment for Dr Griffin's words to register. They didn't have such days on the Factory Station. Nodding briefly, Bellamy watched as Dr Griffin checked his mother's vital signs, her face giving nothing away, which only served to increase his anxiety.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Giving him a reassuring smile, Dr Griffin said, "The medicine should start to kick in soon and then we will see how she gets on."

Whilst he appreciated the Chief Medical Officer's honesty, Bellamy wished that she had given him a straight forward answer. If his mother didn't pull through, he was not sure how he would be able to keep Octavia hidden. He would be forced to give up their small quarters and move into the orphanage until he was 18. If that happened, what would happen to Octavia? Would she be allowed to go with him? Or would she be put in the Skybox until she turned eighteen when they would float her?

How could I keep my promise then, Mom? He thought. How could I keep her safe?

Sweat beaded across his forehead as he contemplated this bleak possibility and he was startled by the small, warm hand that enclosed his.

He looked up into bright blue eyes. "She will get better, I promise you. My mother won't let anything happen to her."

Determination was written across the girl's young face almost as if she would beat death through sheer will alone. She squeezed his hand comfortingly before letting go to follow after her mom.