Man's Responsibility for His Creations: Story 1
Bellamy and guns
No description, however refers to Frankenstein and Frankenstein's monster
This is the first story in a series I've decided to develop (and also my first series). Basically while looking through all my junk, I found an old high school English assignment which had us write an essay for one of the listed topics involving Frankenstein. When I refound this assignment, I noticed a lot of themes could be matched to The 100 and thus this series was born! I will be writing a story for each theme (though if requested to make longer into multi-chapter I will, but for now these are just one shots). The first theme is the responsibility between Frankenstein and Frankenstein's monster. Again special thank you to my amazing friend and editor, Chocolate Granola! Please enjoy!
Clarke sighed for what seems like the umpteenth time, which in turn caused Raven to scowl. "Griffin, will you quit sighing, for goodness sake woman!" The said blonde turned and gave a small glare aimed at the brunette. They were both sitting in the dropship; Raven tinkering with the radio while Clarke sorted through her medical supplies. It was the day after she and Bellamy had brought back the guns, and Clarke couldn't help but be nervous. She had meant what she said when she told Finn she trusted Bellamy; however, trusting delinquents with guns, on the other hand, was a completely different story.
Clarke had let out another sigh but spoke up seeing as Raven looked ready to explode, "I'm sorry, Raven! I'm just worried; I know I shouldn't be, but I can't help myself."
Raven threw the blonde a dirty look before softening up a bit, "Listen Clarke, I get it, but you and I both know how much we need these guns. I also know that you aren't calming down over this anytime soon; you've been stressing ever since they started gun practice. If you want my opinion, which I would highly suggest before I strangle you for sighing again, just go talk to Bellamy. Right now, his word is the only thing that will calm your nerves." Clarke couldn't help but agree knowing Raven was right; however, the young leader frowned as the mechanic muttered, "Or completely drive you up the wall like usual…"
Clarke took one look at the woman, who had somehow became one of her closest friends, let out another sigh causing Raven to send her another look, before throwing her hands in the air. "Fine! I'll go talk to Bellamy, not like I'm busy doing inventory or looking for better medical tools. If we get in another argument though, I'm blaming you, Reyes!"
Clarke began stalking out of the dropship to find Bellamy, hoping she could feel at least a little better letting teenagers use guns. She groaned as she heard Raven mutter after her, "Yeah, yeah. About time I got some peace and quiet."
It wasn't hard to find the young, rebel leader; all Clarke had to do was head towards the gunshots going off. She knew they were safe, but the blonde couldn't help the shudder that went down her spine. She wondered if she would ever get used to the fact that they were teenagers, some just young children, fighting in a war. One thing that Clarke was glad for was that the guns would only be shot off today since there really weren't many bullets that could be used. Bellamy had debated for a long time whether or not training would consist of actually shooting off the guns and decided a couple rounds per person for a day wouldn't set them back too much. Still, Clarke couldn't shake the feeling that using these guns could end up with something going wrong. Even just seeing a bunch of delinquent teenagers with guns was enough to bunch up her stomach with worry. She knew it wasn't like her to become so paranoid, but it was very much her place to worry about everyone else. Clarke could only hope that talking to Bellamy would ease her nerves, which he seemed to be getting better at doing.
She only had to walk out the gates a little ways to spot Bellamy with a line of teens attempting to have target practice. The blonde had to hold back a smile that fought its way to her face, as she looked at Bellamy, who very much looked like an army sergeant. She was used to him trying to be an arrogant leader who wouldn't shut up; right now, she saw a serious man who was giving his full attention to the kids. It was a sight she certainly wasn't used to seeing.
Clarke hadn't gotten too close yet, but Bellamy miraculously managed to hear her over the gunshots. She saw him raise his eyebrows in question before he shouted to her, "Hang on, Princess. Stay there for a minute; I'll be over in a second." As she came to a stop, she raised her eyebrows to him before nodding and crossing her arms against her chest. She watched as the teens took a couple more shots, before Bellamy barked out orders to stop and to carefully put all of their safeties back on. It took her a minute before she realized how careful Bellamy was being, and that having her stay put was his way of keeping her safe.
Her eyes softened as she watched him jog over. "What's up, Princess? Everything okay, anyone hurt?"
She shook her head softly. "No, everything's fine. Well, sort of." He gave her a questioning look, before she continued, "I was just wondering if I could talk to you for a minute."
Clarke watched as his eyebrows furrowed down with concern and curiosity, before he turned around and yelled out, "Alright, Johnson, take everyone back and have Miller collect the guns! Make sure the next group is ready; I'll be there in a few minutes!" The said-boy gave his head a nod before he led everyone back the small distance to camp. Clarke couldn't help but feel guilty for interrupting (even if it was Raven's fault for complaining), but before she could take anything back Bellamy intervened seeing the look on her face. "Okay, Princess. What's up?"
The blonde looked down at the ground and sighed, before looking back up at Bellamy, right into his eyes. She spoke confidently, but slowly as though she knew how she was feeling but wasn't sure she should be feeling that way. "The guns are making me nervous." She could see the surprise on his face, as well as some confusion. Honestly, Clarke couldn't blame him. After all, she had agreed to all of this, but she still felt unnerved by it all. Already knowing what her co-leader was going to say, Clarke continued, "I know we need them, Bellamy. I'm not going to argue against that. And if I'm being honest, I completely trust you out here with them, with a gun. Truthfully, I feel safer now that you have a gun, but the bunch of teenage delinquents on the other hand…well they're making me nervous." Bellamy frowned as he stared at her for a while before he scoffed. Clarke instantly glared, having felt the hostility levels rise as usual, "They ARE guns, Bellamy!"
The rebel leader rolled his eyes, "Yeah, and like you said- we need them. What do you want us to do, Princess? Throw sticks at the grounders?"
This time Clarke rolled her eyes as she replied, "Of course not. I know we need them, but I just want to be sure we're being careful with them. In the wrong hands, they could be incredibly dangerous. All I'm saying is that we need to be extra cautious."
Bellamy stepped forward to Clarke in an attempt to show his dominance and shot back, "I AM being careful, Princess. And who are you to question me? What, a janitor not enough to handle the responsibility?!"
Clarke scowled as she also took a step forward even though her head only came to his chest and jabbed a finger at his chest before she snapped back, "No! Geez, Bellamy! Why do you do this all the time?! I trust you, Bellamy! I do! It's the other kids I'm worried about! Things happen, and I'm worried that one of them might slip up and not take this seriously! It's just putting me a little on edge, alright?!"
Bellamy scoffed as he turned around and began walking back to camp again, but still threw over his shoulder, "Whatever, Clarke. Leave the guns to me and play with your little plants. I have this handled, Princess. So quit being so spoiled and let it go."
"Bellamy, wait, I just-." *BANG*.
The forest went deadly silent as Bellamy turned just slightly to the right to see one of the younger kids holding his gun in the air- standing there completely stunned. Bellamy could already feel his rage surface at the fact that one of the kids was proving Clarke was right. "LOPEZ WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?! I SAID THAT ALL GUNS GO TO MILLER!" A frown made its way to Bellamy's face as Lopez didn't even blink at his words. He threw a look over his shoulder to see what had Lopez's attention but froze at the sight of Clarke laying on the ground clutching her right arm, a small pool of blood under her. Bellamy felt as if all the breath was knocked out of him but quickly turned and bolted towards Clarke. "CLARKE!" He slid on his knees to her as his hands hovered around her, not sure what to do. "Clarke, are you-? Oh my- I- Sh-, CLARKE!"
"Bellamy." Her head moved up to look at him in the eye; her voice trembling slightly, "calm down, it's okay. The bullet just grazed me; doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, but it's not life-threatening. I'm FINE." She made sure to emphasize the word fine considering the look on Bellamy's face right now.
"You're shot." Clarke winced at the choke in his voice. "You aren't FINE, Clarke. Oh my- I- You- I'm so sorry, Clarke. You were right; I should have listened to you. I'm so sorry. I-"
"Bellamy," Bellamy looked up even as he continued to hyperventilate, "it's alright; I'm fine. My arm just got grazed; it stings, but it's not life-threatening, Bellamy. I promise. I just need to go wrap this up back in the dropship. So Bellamy, please, just breathe!" Bellamy swallowed and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on attempting to even out his breathing. He gave a small nod, and both of them got off the ground. Clarke moved closer to him and looked him in the eyes as she repeated, "I'm okay, Bellamy." Once again, Bellamy swallowed as he closed his eyes and gave a curt nod. They both headed back inside the camp, though Bellamy made sure to yank the gun out the younger teen's hands and gave him a hard glare as he passed- causing the teen to scurry back inside the gates. Bellamy eyed Clarke for a minute as she walked over to the dropship, not before she gave him a reassuring smile even with a tiny wince. He headed towards their tent which held the guns and thrust the gun at Miller with the command that no one else was allowed to use guns for the rest of the day without his permission. As he headed to his tent, he could hear Raven cursing like a sailor as well as loudly scolding the blonde for being a reckless blockhead. Bellamy scurried back to his tent before he sat back down onto his bed and buried his head in his hands. He tried to stop the self-loathing from seeping into his mind; it didn't work.
Later that night, Clarke quietly appeared in Bellamy's tent, this time her arm bandaged and cleaned. The dark-haired rebel leader was still sitting in the same position with his head in his hands, his whole body tense. Clarke sighed as she sat next to him; he didn't even flinch. "We'll still need to train the kids how to use guns." Clarke doesn't miss the small, visible flinch from Bellamy. "It's not easy being in charge, is it?" This time Clarke earned a breathless laugh from Bellamy. "We'll have to be careful, and just keep going one step at a time. We were the ones who brought the guns back regardless of how dangerous they might have been; we still need them for protection. 'You accuse me of murder; and yet you would with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, Praise the eternal justice of man!'" She paused before continuing, "That was from Frankenstein. He thought he could handle being able to create life, but it came at a price. In the same way, we brought the guns back to live; that makes them our responsibility, especially since power can come at a cost." She gave his shoulder a squeeze before getting up to head out of the tent.
"Clarke?" She paused at his doorway and glanced over her shoulder curiously before he continued, "Thank you."
The blonde leader smiled gently at him, "Get some sleep, Bellamy." She continued out the door, while Bellamy decided to reluctantly listen to her for once in his life.
