Hiya, so this is my first time really spitting out a full length fic for Bellamy/Clarke. I've done little drabbles on tumblr but this is longer and more thought out and all that fun, anxiety provoking stuff. That being said, I've officially slaved over this first part as much as I think I can. If you have any comments, suggestions, or criticisms to help me when writing these characters that I have come to cherish and love so much, please feel free to let me know!
Thanks! xoxo
When people first come off of the unfamiliar ship that appeared on Earth, Clarke stands hidden in the shadows with Madi for a long moment, contemplating whether she should approach them. They seem harmless enough- a few men, women, and children, varying ages among them. She glances at Madi, knowing that if not for her, she would have likely already revealed herself.
But right now, Madi is all she has, and she can't risk her.
So she watches silently and assesses them. Her gun is gripped tightly in her hand, just in case. They're all surveying the area slowly and carefully. One of the men touches a tree, the grass, another plant, and then pulls out a tablet. He considers it for a moment, touching it a few times, and then he nods and says something to the man behind her that she can't hear. Clarke recognizes the authority in the man with the tablet as the other man nods and seems to follow whatever instruction he was given.
She hasn't noticed that any of them have guns.
At least, not big ones.
Taking a deep breath, Clarke turns and puts her hands on Madi's shoulders. "Stay here. I'm going to go talk to them."
"If I come with you, maybe they'll be less likely to be aggressive. They have children."
It's not the worst logic, actually. If these people aren't here for violent purposes, a child would be more likely to assure that they stay that way.
But if they are…
She considers for a moment, but in the end, she trusts her gut and shakes her head. "I think I'll be okay. Here." She hands Madi the gun she's holding. "How about you watch my back for me?"
Madi swallows but nods, holding the gun up already. Clarke smiles at her determination to do the job, her heart twisting just a little. She presses a kiss to her head and then stands, walking into the clearing.
"Hello?" she speaks almost immediately to avoid them thinking she was trying to be sneaky.
The man with the tablet looks up from it and his eyes widen. "Hi." He blinks a few times, his mouth opening once, twice, as if he wants to speak, but can't form words. Finally, he walks toward her, still incredulous. "Excuse my confusion. We weren't expecting to find anyone alive here."
Clarke nods. "That's understandable."
They're within a few feet of each other now, so she extends a hand. "My name is Clarke."
"George." He shakes her hand, smiling just a little. "Is there anyone else?"
Probably?
But she nods firmly. "There are twelve hundred people in a camp several miles from here."
In a bunker. If they're alive.
"Twelve hundred?" Something flashes in his eyes that makes Clarke's stomach turn, but she keeps the smile on her face.
His pocket beeps and he pulls back out the tablet, shaking his head. "Sorry, we have some… passengers that are being difficult."
Clarke steals a glance at the screen as he pulls up what looks to be camera footage. She sees a small room with very little furniture in it, reminding her of a prison cell.
With seven people in it.
Her heart leaps into her throat as she recognizes them immediately. Echo, Emori, and Murphy sit in a corner. Raven is sitting on a chair, head in her hands. Monty and Harper are on a cot, leaning against the wall behind it.
And Bellamy is hitting the door with the side of his fist, yelling something.
They're alive.
She tries to swallow her gasp, but instead it comes out as a stuttered breath, which draws George's attention anyway. Before she can look away, he sees that she's watching the screen. His head tilts, and she feels uncomfortable as he scrutinizes her. She forces herself to pull her gaze away, but she already knows it's too late. He's recognized her expression, placed it already for what it is.
Her friends are alive and it's the happiest she's felt in years.
"Friends of yours?"
"Yes." He already knows. No sense in lying.
Her gaze goes back to the screen, where Bellamy is running a hand through his hair and everyone is watching him. The locks are longer than she's ever seen them, the curls a mess on his forehead and neck. She can see the weight of the last six years on his shoulders, the way he looks at all of them and deflates because he thinks they're hopeless.
"We found them on a craft on our way in and they denied any attempts at joining our group or an alliance of any kind." George's tone has shifted, and Clarke thinks of Madi, hiding in the trees several yards behind her. It's the only thing keeping her feet grounded even though her world feels like it's spinning.
They're alive, they're alive, they're alive.
She has to save them, has to get them out, has to make sure they're really okay. Her mind is racing, going over options and trying to think rationally.
"Why have you come here?" she asks, proud of herself for keeping her voice level even though her throat is tight, her stomach in knots. She refocuses her attention on him as he responds.
"To live, of course," George laughs, tapping something on the tablet and then putting it away once again.
"If that's true, then I can help you." She digs her nails into her palm to keep it from shaking. "I have lived here for six years, since the fire that destroyed the earth. I know where the best places are to find food, what things are safe to eat and what isn't, where water can be found."
"That would be great." His friendly tone is back, his smile big. His eyes, however, remain dark.
Stay calm, save your friends, get back to Madi.
"But let my friends go."
His smile lessens, his lips pursing as he considers her. "They've been very difficult, Clarke."
"So you should be happy to release them. They won't be a bother to you anymore and you'll have my full and total knowledge of how to survive here as well as my complete cooperation." She takes as deep of a breath as she can without letting on that she's been holding it.
George is silent for a long moment as he regards her, eyebrows furrowed and hands on his hips. He glances back at the group of people who left the ship with him, most of which are still looking around or wandering. A few are staring in their direction, whispering amongst themselves.
"Alright." He isn't happy, but he turns back to her and nods.
"Thank you," she sighs, smiling. "And as a sign of good faith, you can find a watering hole about a mile west of here, as well as several edible plants. I can draw pictures of the ones that are safe, but most of them in that area are."
She points in the direction, and George nods. "We appreciate it. Stay here. I'll return with your friends."
Clarke does as he asks as he disappears back into the ship, and she peers back and scans the forest. It takes a moment for her to locate Madi's head peeking out just barely. The girl stands a little straighter and Clarke shakes her head and smiles, holding out a hand and making sure she knows to stay. Madi nods and ducks back down, so that all Clarke can see is the very top of her head, if she squints.
And when she turns back around, the first thing she sees is him.
"Seriously, Bellamy, it's not doing any good and it's driving me crazy. Sit down."
Bellamy shakes his head, looking back to see Raven's eyes sharp but still pleading. "My sister is out there and these people are keeping us locked up."
"We have people we care about on the other side of these walls, too," Harper says, sighing. "But bruising your fists and yelling isn't helping anyone. It's probably just going to make it worse."
Harper leans against Monty as she speaks, and Bellamy glances around at everyone for the first time since they landed on Earth. They're all tired—shoulders slumped and bags under their eyes—but they're still looking at him, expecting him to be a leader.
There's a familiar pang in his chest at that thought, though it isn't as sharp as it used to be. It still aches and radiates through his body, but it's something he's learned to live with. Sometimes, he even considers it a comfort that the pain is still there, that he still misses her even after all these years. It's a reminder that she was real, that the impact she had on him was valid, that maybe even after being gone for so long, that she's still with him.
Being his head.
Running a hand through his hair, he sits down on the floor on the other side of Echo, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on them. In his mind, he tries to imagine what she would say, how she would handle being locked in here, but he comes up with nothing.
He can't hear her voice as clearly as he used to be able to, has to focus hard to picture her smile, the way she'd narrow her eyes at him. That hurts more than anything, that there might come a time when those things are lost to him.
It's one of the reasons that he clings so desperately to the pain that her absence still brings. He doesn't want to lose her memory, doesn't want to forget how important she was, doesn't want to lose the Clarke sized hole in his heart because he's worried eventually that will be all that's left.
Echo shifts just a little closer, and he takes the smallest amount of comfort from that. When she reaches out to put her hand on his knee, he glances over at her and smiles just a little, even though he knows it's the sorriest excuse he could have mustered. She returns it, a bit more genuinely, and then presses the lightest kiss on the corner of his mouth. "We'll be alright."
He nods and then sits up straighter, feeling the guilt that usually accompanies her affection in proximity to him thinking about Clarke. It isn't fair to her, he knows, that part of him will always be unavailable to her.
The part of him that died with Clarke.
He knows that she's aware of that, too, but she never seems to mind. She lets him walk away if it's too much, listens to him without ever complaining, and lets him lose himself in her late at night when he needs the release or the distraction.
He appreciates having her around, but he's not in love with her, and they both know it. Still, he puts his hand over hers on his knee and holds it. When he glances back over at her, she's staring straight ahead, but there is a content smile on her features.
It makes him feel a little better.
When the door opens, though, he stands immediately, and he can feel everyone in the room holding their breath. It's the same man who's talked to them nearly every time— their leader, he supposes. His face is as stern as always, and he fixes them all with a glare.
"Turns out you have a friend on the outside who's made a deal on your behalf. Follow me." He shrugs. "Or don't and stay here. Your choice."
"Must be someone from the bunker," Murphy says, now standing beside Bellamy as the man turns and walks out. They all follow, carefully, and a few minutes later, the sun is in his eyes as they walk out onto Earth for the first time in six years.
When the man stops at the door, Bellamy looks back at him, holding his gaze for a moment. Suspicion makes his stomach turn, but the man simply stares out at them, features stern. The only thing following them is his eyes.
He's really letting them go.
Someone beside him gasps, but before he can turn his head around to see what's caused the reaction, a body collides with his.
If it weren't for Monty behind him, he would have stumbled for sure, but the hand at his back stops the motion. Regardless, the breath is knocked out of him as two arms are flung around his neck. His split second thought is his sister, but then he sees blonde hair and his entire world stops.
(There's no way.)
"I'm so glad you're okay," is whispered in his ear, and it's her.
It's her voice, and her arms, and her blonde curls.
(It's impossible.)
He tries to say her name but his throat is too tight, his chest too constricted. So, he wraps his arms around her and holds on as tightly as possible, and he doesn't realize that he's crying until a sob escapes his throat. Her arms hold just a little more firmly at the sound. Another moment passes before she pulls back and he sees her face, sees that she's smiling and she has red in her hair and she's crying, too. He takes it all in as she reaches up to wipe at his cheeks and he does the same, tracing every line and touching the red streaks and convincing himself that she's real.
Maybe the air is still toxic and this is what his brain has come up with for him to see as he dies.
A tiny laugh escapes her mouth as she squeezes his arms. "Bellamy."
It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, and he can feel himself laughing a little too, incredulous. He has so much he wants to tell her but he still can't form words on his lips. His heart is beating so hard in his chest, harder than it has in six years.
(Was it beating at all without her?)
Everyone else surrounds her now, and she turns her attention to them briefly, hugging them. He watches, unable to take his eyes off of her for a second, afraid she'll disappear if he does. She laughs when Murphy briefly lifts her feet off of the ground with a bear hug, and even Echo wraps her arms around Clarke for a moment, a smile gracing her features.
And then she's back in front of him and he wraps her in his arms again, and it's then that he finally finds his voice. "Clarke," he murmurs as he closes his eyes and presses his face into her hair, his lips into her forehead, touching as much of her as possible. "You're alive."
"So are you," she whispers back from where she's tucked beneath his chin. Her arms are linked behind his back and he concentrates on how good it feels to have that weight there, to feel her pressed against him and warm and breathing.
"Because of you."
She picks up her head and looks up at him, arms staying at his waist. Her mouth opens, but Murphy's voice stops anything she might have said.
"I am as happy as the next guy that we're all alive and stuff, but can we get a little farther away from this damn ship and everyone in it?"
They all laugh and Clarke detangles herself from his arms, but doesn't move any further away. He still has to fight the urge to pull her back, the absence of her touch making him ache.
"Yes." Her smile widens just a little as she looks into the forest. "Besides, there's… something I want to show you."
She starts walking toward the woods, and Bellamy follows step for step, only stopping when she does at the voice from behind them.
"Don't be too far, Miss Clarke. We wouldn't want to have to look for you." The man that let them out speaks loudly, very clearly an in-charge type, and Clarke nods, eyes narrow, and then turns and continues walking.
"What did you do?" Monty asks, and Clarke sighs.
"I told them I'd help them with food and water and stuff, but I have a feeling they're going to be a bigger problem than that." Her brows are furrowed and he shifts so that they're a little closer, their hands brushing as they walk.
"We're together now," Raven says, smirking. "I'd like to see them try."
Clarke grins briefly but then turns serious. "Everyone else is still in the bunker. There's a lot of rubble and I haven't been able to get them out yet, but… maybe with all of us we can."
"Probably wouldn't hurt for us all to get some rest first. We haven't been sleeping much the last few days." Emori's suggestion hangs for a moment, and glances are passed between them until Clarke's eyes find his.
"Is that okay?"
He forces his gaze away to look at everyone around them before looking back to her. "Yeah, I think we could all probably use the rest. We'll head out first thing in the morning."
"Can you radio them?" Raven asks.
Clarke shakes her head. "I haven't been able to, but maybe with you here, we can figure out a way to—"
"Clarke!" A voice from in front of them calls her name as they get past the tree line and for the first time since they were reunited, she leaves his side to embrace the girl running toward her. "Are you alright? Are these your friends? From space?"
The girl is small, probably about ten or eleven, with long brown hair. She looks up at Clarke with bright eyes, and then glances over at the rest of them. Though she seems excited, she stays glued to Clarke's side.
"They are." Clarke's smile is wide as she turns back to the group, keeping one arm around the girl. "Guys, this is Madi. She's a nightblood, so she survived the death wave, too. Madi, this is—"
"Wait!" Madi stops her, hesitating only briefly before taking a few steps forward. "I want to guess."
Unable to look away from Clarke, Bellamy watches as her eyes light up and she laughs, this one even more beautiful than the one before it. "Okay, go ahead."
He manages to pull his attention to Madi as she looks at all of them, assessing each person and then putting one hand on her hip as she points.
"Emori and Murphy," she guesses correctly, gesturing to the couple standing to his left.
She then points at Monty and Harper. "Monty and Harper."
The two in question smile and nod, and Madi grins as she turns to Raven and Echo, to his right. Her brow furrows, and then she moves her finger Echo. "Echo? So you—" She points at Raven. "—must be Raven."
Finally, she looks at him, and her smile is as big as it's been since she started. "And you have to be Bellamy."
Everyone laughs and Madi joins them, looking back at Clarke. "I got them right, didn't I?"
Clarke nods. "Yes, my little nightblood. Very good. You were paying attention to the stories."
"Stories?" Raven asks, brows raised.
"We had a lot of time to pass. I had a lot of stories to tell about my best friends." Clarke shrugs. "Don't worry, most of them were the good ones."
The look she shoots him makes his heart jump so hard that it hurts, clenching in his already tight chest. He has to break their eye contact to reign in the organ, inhaling slowly as he takes in the trees. They look greener than he was expecting, the life in them stronger than he had imagined they'd be.
His attention is drawn back to Madi as she gestures with her hand. "Come on, our camp is this way." And then she picks a rather large gun up off of the ground as if it's weightless and heads even further into the woods.
They follow, and Clarke falls back into step beside him. Her presence is heavy at his side, something that he missed so much and that he never thought he would feel again. As if she can feel his gaze, she looks at him and the corners of her lips quirk up. She bumps her shoulder against him playfully and he wants to hug her again, or kiss her, or wrap an arm around her as they walk, or even physically attach her to his side so that he never has to be away from her again.
In the end, he settles for nudging her shoulder in return, which makes her smile widen. As they walk, her arm brushes against his with nearly every step, and that piece of him that died, that he thought was gone forever, breathes again.
"You know we can't trust them."
Bellamy's voice is quiet, meant only for Clarke as they sit in the back of the Rover, the rest of the group around a fire not too far in front of them. Bellamy has one knee pulled up to his chest and Clarke has her legs crossed in front of her, so that her knee is resting on his outstretched thigh. The touch is comforting, and the constant thankfulness he feels of having her next to him and alive swells.
She's picking at the skin around her nails, biting on her bottom lip. "I know. But we've handled worse. Once we have everyone out of the bunker, we'll figure out what we need to do."
Sighing, he pulls her hands apart from each other. "Stop, you'll hurt yourself."
She looks up at him from the corner of her eyes and then rolls them, but there's no heat behind it. "I'll be fine."
"Still." He smirks over at her and she scrunches her nose up, glancing out at the others in front of them. Raven is speaking and Madi is listening intently, her entire body leaning toward whatever story is being told. He watches as her face softens, watching the girl ask questions and Raven patiently answer them.
"When did you find her?" he asks, trying not to make it too obvious that he leans a little closer, until their arms are pressed together.
"About six months after." Her voice is quiet. When he looks over at her, she seems far away. Lost in a memory. Her hands have stilled in her lap. "I was trying to find food and found her, lost and alone and… scared. She didn't talk to me for a really long time, but I fed her and talked to her, and eventually… she let me in."
Silence lingers for a moment as they watch the group, and guilt builds in his chest, almost as heavy as the guilt of leaving her to die. "I'm glad you had her," he finally says, staring down at the ground. His eyes are stinging and he rubs at them quickly. "I'm glad you weren't alone."
As if easily sensing his distress, she reaches over and puts a hand on his knee. "Don't, Bellamy. It's okay. You did what you had to do and exactly what I wanted you to do. We're all here, all alive. Because of you."
"Because of you," he corrects, shaking his head. "You saved us. Not me."
"It was both of us," she compromises, shrugging. "Either way, I'm proud of you."
The words slip easily from her lips, and his breath catches. She said them so casually, like it were the most basic and true thing in the world. Yet, he feels the warmth of it pulsing through him, even after she pulls her hand back, into her own lap.
Silence lingers for a moment as they stare at the fire. Clarke shifts, and a glance in her direction reveals that she's pursing her lips, brows furrowed. There's something she wants to say, he can tell, but she's contemplating.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me." As an afterthought, he adds, "If you want."
He winces a little at the way the statement feels flat. Has six years changed them? Will she still trust him in the same way, or do they have to start over? He can still read her just as easily and she hasn't given any indication that their current proximity is an issue, but he shouldn't assume.
"I had you, too," she finally whispers. "I talked to you on the radio every day, even though I knew the odds of you being able to hear me were low. I always imagined what you would say if you could hear me, and I told you what was happening and how Madi was doing. It helped."
Speech fails him as he processes her confession, and he doesn't look at her until he figures out how to breathe again. It isn't much, really, just an admission that she missed him, needed him. Yet, the air seems thinner and his eyes are burning even after he blinks. His world is shifting back into place and he's berating himself for ever even entertaining the idea that he could love anyone else.
He loves her, and only her. He probably always will.
When he peeks over at her out of the corner of his eye, she's watching him, looking worried.
"Is that weird?"
It's then that he realizes he hasn't said anything yet, and he shakes his head a little too vehemently. "No, no that's not weird. I…" He hesitates, but then shrugs. "At least you had reason to believe we were alive and could hear you. I… I thought you were dead and still talked to you, wondered what you would do and imagined what you'd say all the time."
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, but he can see her smile in her eyes. "So you didn't forget about me."
"Not even for a second, Princess."
"Hm," she hums, and then she surprises him, moving her head to rest it on his arm. He bites on the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too big, from giving away how much his heart is flying, racing and jumping in a way that he thought he would never feel again. His head is still trying to catch up, to understand that the girl he loves is here, alive and okay.
Trying to swallow past the emotion closing up his throat, he shifts his arm to wrap it around her, and her head slips to his chest. "I missed you so much."
His whispered admission is gravelly, the words feeling much larger than they are. He wraps his other arm around her, too, holding tight. She leans into his touch, hands coming up to hold the arm across her chest. He presses his face into her hair and breathes, trying to savor the moment. Her response is quiet, a small murmur into the crook of his elbow, but he hears her as clearly as if she'd screamed the words. "I missed you, too."