Blame it on the Rain
Summary: After talking to Jaha, Bellamy starts avoiding Clarke in camp and sets on an unforeseen chain of events that force him to rethink what direction he's going in.
Chapter2
The sun had been down for several hours by the time Clarke made her way back to camp. She was still uncertain about where she stood with The 100, but that could be a problem for another day. She was reasonably certain, despite the throbbing of her bruises, that she would not be murdered in her sleep.
Bellamy's defense team hadn't overtly attacked her, just treated her with an alarming indifference. And there was more than one person in camp who wouldn't mind taking her down a peg or two – whether with words or fists, she knew that. Had seen it in their eyes. She hadn't seen it for the very real threat it was in the first few days, but Wells' death and Murphy's hatred focused on her had ripped away her blinders. Since then she'd relied on her position as the camp medic and Bellamy's protection to keep her safe. Clearly she'd just traded one pair of binders for another.
Her time alone in the forest didn't lessen the ache and fear of being alone in such a precarious place, but it had allowed her some emotional distance from the camp, and also proven something else, something potentially more important.
She could survive on her own outside of camp. Not only had she found the stream and seaweed, she'd also found several trees with edible sap and leaves, as well as a berry patch, she had killed a rabbit and found her way back in the dark healthy and whole (if she ignored the fact that her hands were cold to the bone and she couldn't feel her nose). Her Earth skills might be rudimentary, but they might suffice. If it came down to it, she had an option. The option to leave. Strike out on her own.
It wasn't a good option, but just having an option relieved some of the dark pressure she'd felt. She'd been trapped on the Ark, locked up in solitary confinement for 14 months. Coming to Earth should have meant freedom, unparalleled freedom, but the camp, the rules she'd insisted on and her position in the camp had all become walls, pinning her in, trapping her anew. When she'd felt like part of the camp, like they were all working together to build something better than what the Ark had offered, she'd only seen the positive. But now... now she saw the walls not as protection, but as another prison.
Exiting the tree line, Clarke looked up to see Miller waving a torch and shouting from one of the watch stations high above the fence. "She's back," he yelled into the camp.
Clarke ignored him, walking towards the gate even as Drew came up beside her and grabbed her arm. Clarke immediately tried to shake him off, turning to glare at him. "Let me go, Drew, now," she demanded in a cold, angry tone. So much for her newfound sense of peace.
The gate pushed open and Bellamy stormed out, Octavia on his heels, along with Connor and Jones. "Where the hell have you been?" he roared, stopping barely a foot in front of her.
Clarke ignored him, continuing to struggle with Drew. "Get off of me!" she spat, jerking her elbow from Drew's hold, only to find Bellamy's hands clamped on her shoulders.
"Where were you, Clarke?"
"What the hell do you care?" she said coldly, glaring up at him. She'd be damned if she answered to Bellamy Blake. She had obviously been wrong to trust him, to think that they could rely on each other. She might have to deal with him, but she surely didn't answer to him.
"We have rules, Princess, rules you wanted. Do you think they don't apply to you?" he seethed, shaking her.
She jerked back from him, dropping the rabbit she'd been carrying to her feet. Stooping down to collect her prize, likely her only option for a late dinner, Clarke stood up and faced off with Bellamy, her blue eyes blazing with barely banked anger. "And who makes those rules?" She asked caustically, throwing his words back in his face. "You? If you think you can scare me into falling in line, scare me into following rules that make me dependent on you and your band of ruffians, then you don't know anything about me."
"We agreed to the rules, Princess, so don't go accusing me-"
"What happened to your face?" Octavia's voice cut through Bellamy's.
His eyes narrowed, and he leaned down to get a look at whatever had caught his sister's attention, but Clark stepped back from him again, throwing her face into deep shadow. Losing whatever little patience he had to begin with, he reached out and grabbed her arm with one hand, anchoring her in place while his other hand tilted her chin up towards the light from Miller's torch, revealing the blue and purple bruising on her jaw.
"What the hell is that? Did the Grounders find you? That is exactly why we have rules."
Clarke shook her head at both Blakes, tired of the games and lies. "I was perfectly safe out there," she jerked her head towards the dark forest behind her. "Which is more than I can say for camp." She saw Bellamy blink, his rage fading to a questioning look that was almost vulnerable. But Clarke ignored it and him. She'd fallen for that before. "I'm hungry and tired, so go be a controlling asshole to someone else, 'cause I'm done with this conversation."
Octavia's eyebrows were high in shock or surprise at Clarke's indirect accusation about the camp and her cutting words to Bellamy, but she stepped aside when Clarke swept past her through the fence, Bellamy's grip on her having loosened at the accusatory words and insult.
Bellamy followed a few steps behind, not ready to let her out of his sight again, but still unable to process her words.
Inside the camp, Clarke waved to Monty who ran over, greeting her with a hug. Clarke smiled, then touched her jaw, the smile obviously having hurt her. She handed over her bag to the slight Asian boy, and he headed for the drop ship after she ignored his questioning, concerned look about her bruises and her absence from camp.
Clarke continued towards the bonfire, ignoring the stares of the teens still awake, until she reached the makeshift food prep table they'd assembled. Lying her rabbit down she stroked it's soft fur for a second, a look of regret on her face, then drew a knife out of her belt and, without hesitation, slit it down the middle. The blood poured out, caught in a bucket fashioned from metal from the drop ship.
A frown creased her forehead, uncertainty clear on her face, but before Bellamy could move, Harper, a girl with long hair and a free spirited attitude, stepped forward. "Here, let me show you…"
Harper taught Clarke, who proved to be a fast learner, how to skin the rabbit and then clean it in preparation for cooking it over the fire. "You're a good teacher, thanks," Clarke said gratefully.
Harper flushed but smiled, her gaze shooting to Bellamy who was still standing just a few feet away glowering at their blonde doctor.
Bellamy waited, stewing in his dark thoughts until she'd finished cooking and eating her dinner, the noise level around the fire lower than usual as the teenagers watched the silent fight between their two strong willed leaders. Except for Jasper, none of the others approached Clarke as she ate, and once she finished her meal, Clarke went to the water tent, not bothering to spare a glance at Bellamy when she exited to find him waiting for her.
"We need to talk." He couldn't say he was surprised when she continued to ignore him, walking past him. Tired of her avoidance and needing answers, he grabbed her elbow swinging her around to face him.
Her hands rose up to push him back and her foot would have made painful contact with his instep if he hadn't had guard training and responded instinctively, shifting his foot away from her attack. "Don't touch me!" she growled drawing even more attention from the camp.
"Clarke?" a tremulous voice called out, stopping Bellamy from making a move to get her under control and get her to talk to him. He watched, eyebrows drawn together and a muscle ticking in his jaw, as Clarke hurried towards the little girl who shadowed her around camp. Emily. She had become their youngest when Charlotte had thrown herself off the cliff.
"Hey Em, what are you doing up so late?" Clarke asked in a concerned tone, lifting the flap to her tent and leading the girl inside.
"Bellamy?"
He turned to see Miller standing a few feet away, waiting for orders. "Post a…" he broke off. He wanted to post a guard on her tent. To keep her safe and keep her inside, but there were too many unanswered questions. Bellamy stared at Clarke's tent, hearing her husky lilting voice as she comforted Emily, telling her about her trip to the stream and all the things she'd seen, making it sound like a grand adventure instead of a suicidal trek.
Bellamy stalked towards Miller, standing close to keep their words private. "Who hurt her?"
"I don't know."
The muscle in Bellamy's jaw ticked faster.
"We'll post Jones on her tent tonight. He can be trusted," Miller said quietly aware of the curious eyes on them.
"How do you know?" Bellamy asked, not sure he trusted anyone but himself at the moment.
"He likes Clarke. She helped him out on the Ark or something. He's stopped some of the others – " Miller broke off.
"Stopped some of the others from what?" Bellamy asked with deadly intent.
"From mouthing off to Clarke, dickish stuff. Nothing major," Miller said.
"Fine. Jones can watch her. I'll find out who the fuck-"
"No one will talk to you," Miller interrupted. He respected Bellamy, trusted him, and had a healthy fear of the older boy. "You've been in a rage ever since you discovered she was gone. People know you're pissed. You think anyone is going to admit to being the reason she left?"
Bellamy's eyebrows drew together, his expression faltering. "Do you… you think she left because she was afraid? Because someone hurt her?"
Miller shrugged. "She wanted more seaweed. She asked me to go with her, but I was on duty. Maybe she just decided to go alone."
"You saw her face," Bellamy accused.
Miller didn't respond for a moment, because there was no good response. "That must have happened right before she left or someone would have been talking about it," Miller reasoned. It was obvious someone had hit Clarke. If she'd left camp alone, either she'd been mad, hurt or afraid. None of which would calm Bellamy down. "I'm supposed to be on noc shift tonight. You cover for me, I'll see what I can find out."
Bellamy nodded and Miller handed his gun over and walked away. Before he could get 10 feet, Bellamy's voice called to him. "Miller. Don't come back empty handed."
-The 100—
The next morning Clarke woke to find Emily sitting up, staring at her worriedly. "Your face looks terrible."
Clarke grinned, touching her jaw gingerly. "Thanks."
Emily flushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean… you're still pretty." Clarke reached out and squeezed Emily's knee, letting her know she wasn't offended.
"OK, let's get some breakfast then get started with another day in paradise," Clarke said sarcastically.
Stepping outside her tent, she saw Jones waiting for them. "Bellamy wants to see you," he said, sparing a soft smile for Emily. A gentle giant, Clarke thought to herself.
Clarke arched one eyebrow, sardonic amusement lighting up her face for a moment. "Bellamy should learn to live with disappointment."
Moving to the food tent, they collected apples and a handful of nuts for breakfast, Emily sticking close to Clarke's side. After gathering a few supplies, Clarke left Emily with Monty to work on drying some of the seaweed while grinding the rest into a paste, while she went to check on Finn.
"Where'd you go yesterday?" Finn asked, relieved to see her. But his expression clouded when he saw her bruised jaw.
"Out," Clarke replied shortly. "I needed seaweed, I got seaweed."
"What happened to you?" he asked, struggling to sit up. "Tell me and I'll-"
"You'll what? Pull your stitches? Lie back down," she ordered.
Raven entered the tent with apples for her and Finn and whistled, seeing Clarke's face. "Tell me the other guy looks worse."
"Well, he came in injured, so that would hardly be sporting of me, now would it?"
Raven grinned. "You need help handling that, come find me later. Most of these idiots are just begging for a beat down."
"How can you two joke about this? This is serious! Clarke is hurt," Finn said, sitting up and swinging his legs off his cot. Raven tensed. It was never easy seeing the evidence that Finn cared about Clarke.
"She's fine." Raven looked at Clarke, she'd wanted to dislike the other girl, but she couldn't. "You're fine, right?"
"As fine as I'm going to be," Clarke equivocated. "Can you handle checking on his wound?" Clarke asked, not up for going another round with Finn, when she knew she still had to face Bellamy since she could only avoid him for so long.
It was approaching midday when Jones approached Clarke again. "I think you've made your point. Bellamy is waiting. The hunting party needs to go out and they won't until you go talk to him," Jones said, adding a consequence to her delay tactics.
Clarke frowned but followed Jones to the command tent at the center of camp. Bellamy was pacing like a caged animal when she entered, with Miller, Drew and Derek also present. "Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," he said in annoyance.
"What can I say? I'm a busy girl."
"Are you ready to tell me who did that to you?" Bellamy asked, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down his nose at her from a few feet away.
"No," Clarke replied, wandering to the table, seeing all their maps laid out, the one they'd been sent down with, ones they'd found and one that she'd drawn and others had added to. There were pebbles marking off certain areas. "Grounders?"
"Likely game migration paths," he corrected. "I'm not playing with you, Clarke, this is camp business. Who hit you?"
"I don't know."
"He jumped you?" Bellamy exclaimed sharply.
"No, I just don't know his name. He was cussing at me and offensive from the moment he came in for treatment, so I'm just going to assume he's an unpleasant person in general if the helps narrow the search."
"Guy."
"Yes," she smiled insultingly. "My use of the male pronoun indicates that it was a guy."
Bellamy glared at her and stepped closer. "His name is Guy, Princess." Clarke shrugged as if it was of little to no importance to her. "This guy hurts you and you don't care?"
Her gaze went to Drew, who wouldn't meet her gaze. "I care, but I can't change the past. It happened. Knowing his name changes nothing."
"And what if he hurts someone else? Octavia or your little shadow, Emily? One of the other girls in camp?"
Clarke glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest, mirroring his stance. "Taking care of myself and the sick and injured people in this camp is about all I can handle right now. If you need someone to play crime and punishment with you, get one of your minions to do it. They're good at following your orders."
He inched closer, towering over her, his expression one of barely restrained emotion. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You're being even more pig-headed than usual." They glared at each other for a long minute. "Why didn't you come to me?"
"I thought you were too busy," she threw at him with an accusing smirk enjoying his flinch as he recalled her last attempt to talk to him.
"I would have made time. You could have told Miller, Jones, anyone."
Her expression grew more brittle. "They take their cues from you, Bellamy. You're too busy for me, they're too busy for me. So don't worry about it. I won't be bothering you with any of my concerns, anymore. If I need something done, I'll get it done myself."
She turned to leave, finding Jones blocking her path with his bulk. Bellamy caught her jacket and tugged her back around to face him. "What does that mean? If you think you're going out of camp alone again, you have another think coming!"
"I'll go wherever I like, whenever I like," she said silkily, her large blue eyes turned up to meet his, both sets of eyes blazing with fury.
"And if you come back to a locked gate?" Miller asked, trying to deflate the argument before it blew up, trying to get Clarke to back down. Bellamy had locked people out before, to enforce the rules.
"Then maybe I don't come back at all," she said, causing Bellamy to stiffen.
He looked down, obviously struggling to reign in his temper, the muscle in his jaw pulsing furiously but his temper was momentarily forgotten as his gaze caught on a patch of discolored skin just above her pants where her shirt had ridden up when she crossed her arms. "What is that?" he asked coldly, his gaze locked on the strip of exposed skin.
Clark tugged her shirt down, her eyes darting to Drew again who looked alarmed. Miller caught the exchange, and shifted his gaze from Clarke to the blonde guard suspiciously.
"Nothing. I have work to do," she declared moving around Jones only to find Bellamy in her path.
"Show me."
"Fuck off."
His mouth tightened and he glanced at Miller. "A little help here?"
Miller stepped forward, slinging the gun he was holding behind his back and taking hold of one of Clarke's arms. Bellamy pushed her back until she was sitting on the table, overpowering her struggles, pushing her legs open so she wouldn't be able to land another kick to his shins, and standing between them.
"Get off of me!" she shouted.
Miller grappled with her arms until Jones stepped up to help circling one of her wrists loosely and holding her arm to the side, not wanting to hurt her by holding too tight.
"Stop it. Don't touch me!" she protested, as Bellamy pushed her shirt up a few inches, then several more, seeing a bruise in a circular outline over her ribs, with darker purple stippling around the center. Bellamy looked stunned, realizing that her injuries were worse than he'd been led to believe.
Raven burst into the tent, a fierce look on her face. "What the hell is happening in here?" She asked even as she visually assessed the situation. Raven pulled her knife, advancing on the boys. "Let her go and I won't gut you like a fish."
Bellamy looked frustrated, waving his hand at Miller and Jones who immediately backed off. Clark tugged her shirt down, but it was too late.
"Is that another… Damn it, Clarke! What happened yesterday?" Raven asked sharply.
"That's what I want to know."
"Oh shut up, Shooter, this is your camp isn't it? Your people? I guess not since they're running around hurting our only doctor," Raven accused. "What are you doing about it?"
"I'm handling it," Bellamy said, his jaw tight with tension. "As soon as she tells me exactly what happened."
"It was me," Drew said quietly, his gaze apologetic and fearful. "I'm sorry, Clarke, I didn't know you were actually hurt."
Bellamy looked from Drew to Clarke in disbelief. "Explain."
Drew looked down. "I knocked into her-"
"He bumped into me. It was an accident," Clarke said, not entirely sure she believed her words, but not angry enough at Drew to want to watch Bellamy beat him up. "If you're going to punish people for shoulder checking me or pushing me you're going to have to train more guards to pick up shifts," Clarke said damningly.
"Everyone out," Bellamy ordered, his hand on Clarke's waist making it clear she was not included in the order. Raven glanced from Clarke to Bellamy and seeing that Clarke wasn't showing any fear, only a simmering anger and resentment, Raven nodded to the younger girl and turned to leave.
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