Here it is, the first prompt: A humorous story of Clarke going in to labor.
Enjoy.
If there was one thing Clarke should have known by now, it was that Bellamy was always right when she most needed him to be wrong.
The river water trickled by slowly. It was mid afternoon and Clarke and Octavia were sitting by the water. Well, Clarke was sitting, Octavia was waist deep in the water and laden down with enough seaweed to fill the entire first floor of the Drop ship. Clarke watched her struggle back to shore with barely concealed chuckles, one hand affectionately rubbing up and down her swollen belly.
The little one growing in her stomach had been nothing but trouble for the past eight and a half months and even now, on such a rarely gorgeous day, it wouldn't settle down and let her enjoy the sun for even a minute.
Just like your father, Clarke thought, a begrudging smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as her lower abdomen received a particularly hard pang – the little baby seemingly reading her mind. But then, a few minutes later, she received another. And then another exactly two minutes later, and again, much stronger that time, a minute and thirty seconds later.
"Oc-Octavia!" Clarke cried. She had one hand pressed to her back, her breathing laboured.
"I'm coming!" The younger Blake yelled through armfuls of seaweed. "It's not like all this is heavy and really smelly, no I actually quite enjoy being covered in sticky red river weed. I bet Lincoln will love it when we get ba-"
"Octavia!" Clarke snapped as a much stronger wave of pain rippled from her back and through her stomach. She shut her eyes tight and focused on her breathing. "Something's wrong!"
There was a loud splashing, a string of curses, and suddenly Clarke was being dripped on. She forced her eyes open and was greeted with the sight of a drenched Octavia, a single strand of seaweed plastered to her forehead.
"What's wrong?" Octavia demanded, pressing her hands to Clarke's stomach. "Is it the baby? Or can you just not get up again and need to pee?"
Clarke swatted at the brunettes hands. "No! It hurts."
It wasn't the most professional diagnosis Clarke had given since her landing on earth four years previously, but it was accurate enough.
"What hurts?" Octavia asked.
"My stomach," Clarke wailed. "It happens every few minutes and it's worse than the time Monty and Jasper thought it would be funny to put those peppers in the camps dinner." Octavia failed to hide her giggle and received a sharp glare. "I'm serious, O. It comes and goes but they're getting stronger. What if something's wrong? My mom won't be able to get out here and Bellamy's not back from hun-"
"Clarke, nothing is wrong," Octavia said with a beaming grin. "You've gone in to labor."
"I AM GOING TO MURDER YOUR BROTHER!"
Octavia cringed. She was sure that once this was all over, Bellamy would be walking around with the biggest grin on his face, but right now she couldn't help but wonder if Clarke would let him survive that long. The blonde hadn't let up explaining to Octavia all the ways she planned to kill the older Blake the entire way back to camp.
Octavia liked to think that this was just Clarke's way of dealing with the miracle of birth.
The gates were opened before they even got there, the guards no doubt alerted by Clarke's death threats. Sure enough, Miller gave Octavia his best 'good luck' look as she and Clarke staggered through, most of Clarke's weight supported by Octavia. Octavia had learned early on into Clarke's pregnancy that weight jokes were not appreciated, so bit her tongue as they got her up the ramp to the Drop ship.
"Everyone out!" Clarke barked. The delinquents inside took one look at their panting, flushed, sweat soaked and heavily pregnant co-leader and all but bolted from the ship.
Octavia grabbed one as he passed. "Get Bellamy. I don't care how, but get him here now."
The young boy nodded and sprinted away.
"Octavia, I need to sit down," Clarke wheezed. Octavia did as instructed and placed Clarke on the table pushed against the back wall. "Okay, I could really use some water, but get my mother first, oh and some rags because there's going to be blood, and get Monty to bring some of the sumac petals."
Octavia was rushing back and forth, juggling rags, cups and searching frantically for the walkie talkie. After dumping the rags on a close by table and all but flinging Clarke her water she made a mad dash for where she knew Mrs. Griffin would be – cursing her brother's inability to think with his actual head every step of the way.
Clarke had been practicing her breathing for four months. Soothing breaths, in and out, in and out, in and ou-
"Where is she?" boomed a familiar voice.
"Where do you think?" Clarke shrieked as Bellamy ripped through the Drop ships curtain. His face was stony as he marched over to her.
"How long have you been in labor?" he asked, all business.
"About...two hours, Octavia and I were at the river when the contractions started," Clarke panted.
"I told you going out was a bad idea. You should have sent Raven like I told you to."
"Fuck off, Bellamy." It didn't get any better from there.
"How're you doing?" Bellamy asked.
"How do you think?" Clarke spat. She wasn't in the right frame of mind to be clever as she faced another contraction. She steeled herself, moaning deeply. She reached out and grabbed Bellamy's sleeve, clenching it. "You've done this before, do it again!"
Bellamy chuckled as he unclasped her hand from his sleeve and shed himself of his jacket. "Yeah, it was a long time ago but if I could handle it then, then this should be no problem." He moved round to stand between Clarke's legs and gripped her raised knees. "Now let's take a look."
"Get away from me!" Clarke shrieked and kicked out.
"Ow, Clarke, what the hell?" Bellamy snapped as he received a surprisingly strong kick to the chest.
"You did this to me!" she shrieked through another contraction. "If you think you can ever touch me again then you have got another fucking thing coming!"
"But, Princes-"
"Don't fucking call me Princess!"
Clarke's mother had warned Bellamy that the delivery room was a lot different for the father. But Bellamy was never one to listen to the Griffin woman unless he could help it, and Clarke needed him.
"No, Clarke," he said forcefully as he stepped back between her legs. "I am this baby's father and the only one in the room with any experience on how to deliver, so for once in your life just shut up and listen to m – is that a bubble?"
The reality seemed to slam into Bellamy and he staggered back as Clarke screamed bloody Mary. His head felt like it was going to explode and his stomach was ready to empty itself. He had just seen the top of his babies head.
"Bellamy? Bellamy what's happening?" Clarke said through her screams. The memory of his babies head coming out of Clarke flashed through Bellamy's head and he almost passed out on the spot. "Bellamy fucking Blake, get back in there and see what's happening!"
"I think I'm gonna be sick," he moaned.
"I'm sorry, is this hard for you?" Clarke seethed.
"I'm a hunter, I kill. This is not my job, this is the opposite of my job!" Bellamy snapped as he forced himself back between Clarke's legs. "Okay, Princess, you're gonna have to start pushing soon. Can you do that?"
"I-I think so," she panted.
"On three," Bellamy said, coming round to grip her hand and hold one of her legs back to gain leverage. "One, two, three!"
Clarke sprang up, back arching as she pushed as hard as her body could let her. The hand clasping Bellamy's clenched and the young man yelped at the pure force hands that were supposed to be delicate could muster.
Without thinking he cried out, "Ah, god damn that hurts!"
"GET OUT!" Clarke screamed through the throes of her contraction. Whatever Bellamy would have said was cut off as Clarke continued to scream. He checked the babies progress and felt his legs buckle. At the same time he hit the floor he heard someone burst into the Drop ship.
"Where is my daughter?"
"Mom," Clarke gasped as the contraction faded slightly.
"I'm here, it's okay," her mother soothed as she rushed over. "We'll get that baby out safe and soun – oh for goodness sake, someone get him out of here!"
Bellamy was hauled onto his feet and escorted out of the Drop ship. Outside in the sun he stood, dazed, until Octavia came over and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Bell? What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with Clarke?"
"Her mom kicked me out." He could barely recognise his own voice.
"Why?"
"Apparently I wasn't being very helpful," said Bellamy and explained what had happened, deciding to leave out the part here he practically fainted.
Octavia studied him for a moment. "Didn't you help deliver me?"
Bellamy nodded. His brain had been slowly shutting down the moment he'd laid eyes on the pink, bloody head he'd watched Clarke pushing out of her. It was something he was sure he was never going to be able to un-see.
"This was different, O," he said in a shaky voice. "For one, mom didn't scream at me so much. Clarke wouldn't let me touch her until the baby started crowning, she even kicked me when I tied, and she said this was all my fault."
"Well..." Octavia trailed off at Bellamy's glare. Octavia smiled softly and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "It's because it was Clarke, Bell. When it was me you were probably too young to realise what was going on with mom, but this is totally different. You already love the little one coming out of her."
Bellamy scowled. He could hunt panthers and face Grounders without flinching, but the second his Princess was in pain he became about as useful as a dud bullet. He kicked a stone to distract himself but found he couldn't think of anything except the fact that his baby was coming into the world and he had been kicked out of the room.
What felt like hours later, Abby Griffin walked out of the Drop ship. Bellamy, who hadn't left the site, sprung to his feet. Octavia was still with him and she stood up as well. The woman looked haggard, a look in her eyes like she hadn't slept in days.
"How is she?" Bellamy asked.
"She has a sore throat, but she's fine." Bellamy decided not to question the sore throat, he had heard everything Clarke had blamed him for – at one point he was pretty sure she brought up that old global warming stories from before the cataclysm just to have something else to blame on him. "Would you like to see them?"
Them. It was like that word could make the world tilt on its axis.
Bellamy followed Abby into the Drop ship. Lying on the table, propped up against the back wall, Clarke was sitting and holding a tightly wrapped bundle in her arms. She was still covered in sweat and looked like she'd just fought about fifty Grounders, but by the soft smile on her face, Bellamy couldn't even remember the hate filled glares she had been giving him before. When she saw him her smile widened.
"And that mess of dark hair, freckles and fainting over there is your daddy."
"Men don't faint, they pass out," Bellamy said back, but without his usual bite, and couldn't keep the grin from splitting his face in two as he walked over. "So is she...he...?"
Clarke smiled. "It's a boy."
"What's his name?" Bellamy whispered, already in love as he stared at his sons pink, sleeping face.
"He doesn't have one yet," Clarke said as she readjusted their son. "Do you want to hold him?"
Bellamy hesitated for a moment. He hadn't held a baby since Octavia and he wasn't the same kid any more. That child didn't have blood on their hands and lives hanging on the balance of the decisions he made. Would the calluses he'd gained hurt the baby in anyway? He had no idea but the thought that they could had him terrified.
Carefully, he reached out and traced a finger through the soft curls of sandy hair that sat in tufts on the top of the babies' head. When it didn't immediately burst in to tears at his touch he relaxed.
"He's perfect," he breathed. He looked at Clarke. "How did someone like me help make something like this?"
Clarke smiled as she began to sit up, straighter. "Because without you we wouldn't have gotten here at all. And after all that, look at what we ended up with."
Bellamy chuckled and leaned down, brushing his lips across hers, up her nose and into her hairline. "I believe we have a successful hunting trip and three cups of moonshine to thank for that."
"You're the one who told me I needed to have more fun."
Bellamy chuckled again and without thinking about his previous fears took the bundle that was half of him, half of Clarke, and held it to his chest. A pair of dark eyes opened for a moment, and then the baby yawned and they closed again. Bellamy never wanted to leave this moment, even if he had to go through Clarke screaming at him all over again he would take it in a heartbeat, just as long as he got to return to this moment.
"Kael."
"Kael?" Clarke questioned.
"Sky, space, heaven and earth," Bellamy breathed. "It's Latin. His name is Kael."
There you go. Don't forget to send in more prompts.
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