This is my first foray into the 100 fandom and Bellarke.
Thanks to MeraNaamJoker for correcting my bad relationship with commas.
Canon compliant up to 3x02.
Eyes, Ears and Hope
She comes back, her eyes fearful and wide at the changes in front of her. And he watches, his eyes sharp, taking in all the changes in front of him since the last time he saw her. He keeps watching.
He sees the way she is when the delinquents approach her. Her posture, tense, stiff and hands curling and clenching next to her sides in stark contrast to her shining eyes and tiny smile lifting the corners of her lips. He sees how a hug from Raven or Monty, and arm thrown around her shoulder by Lincoln or Miller, cause just a little of the tension and apprehension to drain out of her. And when they step away from her, he sees the tension snap her spine taut and her walls to shutter her eyes.
It's worse with Abby. When Abby wraps her arms tightly around her daughter, the latter is stiff and the pain coming from her eyes is a roar. But she never cries. He's too far to hear the words spoken between mother and daughter, but he sees the tears that shine on Abby's cheeks, and the tears that she doesn't allow to fall as she tries to gently extract herself from her mother's arms. Like her mother's presence is causing her pain.
He notices as the days pass how she clings to the corners and hides in the shadows. She sleeps outside, within the walls of Arkadia but far from anyone else. When she's in the mess or the bar, her eyes dance around the room frantically from person to person, searching out potential ambushes from Jasper, Octavia or any number of other people. But he also notices the naked longing in her gaze when she looks at Miller, Monty, Gina, Raven, Harper and Monroe laughing across the room. He knows she's getting there, but is not quite ready to end her self-imposed exile.
He's there the day she and Abby fight. Up until now, all of their interactions had been stilted and cold. Now he sees the familiar look that boils her blood and prepares her for battle, a look he's seen directed at him when they first were on the ground. It's the most uncontrolled emotion she's let others see since she limped her way through the gates. Abby is trying to get Clarke to continue the training she'd started on the Ark, by working in Medical with her and Jackson. And through Clarke's anger he sees the rawest of her pain. While she refuses, saying that she can't and won't work in Medical, he remembers that she has gone out of her way to avoid Medical and its hallways since the moment Abby released her. He sees the truth in all her actions and the words she doesn't say. She doesn't trust herself with the lives of others anymore; doesn't trust that her hands can be gentle. The way they were before the grounders and the mountain made her take lives and stain her soul.
It's been months since her return and the defeat of the AI, and he finally, finally sees a constant light in her eyes: Hope. She no longer shuns affection and friendship. She still bears the scars of her choices, but he knows that she is finally forgiving herself for what she's done for her people. The day she laughs and then snorts for the first time eases the strain he's held on his heart, and he too begins to hope again.
He watches her constantly, but is the last to see, the last to understand the look in her eyes when she meets his. He's breathless at the realization that the feelings he's held for her since before he found her in the old subway and tried to free her are returned to him. And he, who has read countless books, about countless things, cannot find the word for how he feels about her. He is left speechless as he looks at her staring back at him with the same emotions shining in her eyes.
He watches as she walks across Arkadia, arm and arm with Raven, her laughter carried by the wind. And his heart is light knowing that he could walk up to her and take her in his arms as he's done dozens of times now.
But Bellamy watches because now he gets to see her happiness, gets to share her joy because now it's his too. He doesn't remember when he started staring at the golden haired princess, but he doesn't ever want to stop watching her.
She listens. She hears the roar of whispers as she walks through Arkadia's gates. They burn her but she marches forward. Finally ready to be with her people, scars and all. She listens as she hears someone call his name across the camp and her heart beats a staccato of panic.
She hears the relieved words of the delinquents as they embrace her return. She hugs them back, but it's all still painful, and when they step away she has to shutter her heart to the emotions lest they drag her under again. She wanted to come back, but it hasn't made it any easier to face them than the day she walked away. She hears the scuffling of his feet as he walks up beside her. He doesn't say anything, just lets her know he's there if she needs. It's another chip in the wall she's erected. His support constant and silent, a cacophony against her pain. She always feels just a little bit lighter in his presence.
After her mother's embrace and hopeful, careful words she doesn't know what to do. His approach, as steady as his presence, sounds in her ears and she looks up to him. A small, hesitant curl to his lips, and she hears the gentle words as he asks if she wants to walk the walls, or go on a scouting run. She knows that he isn't on duty and he's just trying to get her out of her head. She's so very grateful for his sturdy, silent support. It's everything she didn't know she needed.
It's hardest for her at night. Her mother had wanted her in her room in the Ark, or a room close to her. But even after her time away the walls still feel like prison, so she finds a dark corner along the outer wall or goes to the woods near it to bed for the night. She listens to Octavia's displeasure when she finds her there one morning. Octavia still hasn't forgiven her, and she feels like she'll always deserve Octavia's ire. It's just as hard to hear the joyful laughter of her friends in the mess or the bar. She still feels separate from them and so she pulls herself to the corners. Thinking she doesn't deserve that camaraderie. The metallic scrape of the chair next to her and the quiet thunk of glass being set on the table pull her gaze up to his. He gives her a small smile and says: "How about that drink?" The careful rasp of his voice warms her, and she returns his smile.
She notices the pleading tone of her mother's voice as she asks her to begin interning in Medical, like she'd done on the Ark. Abby thinks that it would do her some good, make her more active in the community and make her feel like she belonged again. She's been spending her days glued to her friends. Giving any help she can to Raven in engineering, working behind the scenes for Gina, sometimes going out on runs with Miller, Monty and even Lincoln. But she avoids Medical. She takes the long way around if it requires her to walk those halls. She hasn't stepped foot in there since she came back and Abby demanded to examine her. She hears the pleas but she can't. It chokes her, the feeling. She doesn't think she can do good with her hands anymore; she feels every inch the Wanheda she doesn't want to be. She doesn't want her hands to bring pain to her people, but she doesn't think she can bring goodness with them either. There are too many souls weighing her down. She can't be who her mother wants her to be.
The clearing of a throat pulls her out of her thoughts, and she sees him in his guard uniform. His eyes are understanding as they assess her. She feels naked under his gaze. Only he can see her, all of her. It does funny things to her, knowing he knows her so well. He doesn't say anything, just puts a hand on her shoulder and then tucks some hair behind her ear, and with a small smirk he walks off to his post.
It gets easier to be among her people, her friends. She's lighter now, and the weight of the souls she's taken have lightened their load. The sound of his laugh, deep and strong across the rover brings her joy. He's a solid presence, steady and strong and always there when she needs him, however she needs him. She finally feels like she is helping her people. She works part time in Medical and part time on runs. She finally has hope that not only will they survive and thrive on Earth, but that she will too. She doesn't feel like she has to sacrifice herself to get them there. Miller's answering joke causes her to laugh so hard she snorts and she meets his smiling eyes.
She's inundated with emotions as she listens to the words Bellamy whispers in her ear and feels his touch ghost up her sides. The quiet flutter of their clothes falling is distant in her mind as she is consumed by him. His heavy breaths as they flow across her jaw, followed by his lips, undo her. For a long time she couldn't see this, herself with him. Then, she didn't think she deserved it when she wanted it in the deepest parts of her. But she knows now, there is no her without him. They've shaped one another here on Earth, and he is in the beat of her heart, the quirk of her smile, the blush on her cheeks.
But Clarke listens. She listens as he commands his troops or as he plays with the younger children. She listens to his voice, strong and sure as he talks to trading grounders. She hears the love in his voice as he talks to Octavia and his nephew. She doesn't know when she started relying so much on his words and their strength. But she doesn't want to ever not rely on the conviction of his words and the joy of his laugh.