Chapter 3

When everyone had eaten and twenty or so wristbands had been taken off before some took food without giving up the bracelets – "There are no rules," Finn had said before taking a stick with meat for him and Clarke. "We do whatever the hell we want, right?" – people headed to their tents for the night.

Bellamy sat on a log near the fire, holding Octavia in his arms. Jane was still sleeping in the dropship, recovering. He would join her later on. Ten of the boys were keeping watch all around the camp with makeshift knives and spears. Everyone had heard about Jasper being speared by Grounders, and they would not have them in their camp. Bellamy knew they needed to build a wall quickly. But they also needed to sleep.

He looked at his baby girl and memories of life on the Ark flooded him.

x-x-x

12 years ago…

Bellamy was eleven years old, and alone in his room. His mom was spending the night elsewhere, probably earning favors. He didn't like it when she was gone. He lay down on his bed, and closed his eyes. He couldn't find sleep and turned towards the cold metallic wall, resting his forehead against it, cooling down a bit. That's when he heard the muffled cries and irregular sobs. He knew who it was.

The girl next door who had lost her mother at birth. Everyone in this part of the Ark knew about her. He tried to tune out the cries and find sleep, but he couldn't. After what felt like hours to him, but was only fifteen minutes in real life, he kicked the covers away and headed for the door. He opened it and walked to the one next door. The corridor was empty. It was their turn to sleep. The Ark had people sleeping around the clock, but it also meant that people worked around the clock, too.

He knocked on the door and waited. The cries stopped, but no one came to answer. He knocked again, louder. This time, small steps echoed in the small room and the door opened on a little six-year-old girl with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, red from crying. She quickly wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"What do you want?" she asked, a little afraid of this dark-haired boy who was way older than her.

"Are you okay?" he simply asked.

She nodded, but then shook her head.

"What's wrong?" Bellamy asked. "I heard you crying."

She shrugged and walked back inside, sitting on the bottom bunk, the one her dad slept in, when he was here. He followed her inside after closing the door.

"What's wrong?" he asked again.

She fiddled with her fingers and the hem of her shirt for a few seconds. "My daddy's been gone for two days. I don't know where he is," she said softly.

Bellamy knew the feeling. His mother sometimes didn't come back for a day or two, too. He knew what it was like to come home to an empty room, and going to sleep with an empty stomach. "Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. He sighed. "I'm sorry. My mom's not here, either. But as soon as she's home, I'll give you half of my ration, okay?"

She nodded, still not looking at him.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

She nodded again. When she didn't say anything more, he went back to his room. In the middle of the night, his mother came back. He hadn't slept, yet. He saw her storing a few rations away in their small cupboard. He knew that she would come home with food. She always did. He just didn't like what she did to get it. He may be eleven years old, but he understood what she was doing. He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. When his mother had slipped under the covers, he heard her cry silently, the sounds muffled by the blanket. He closed his eyes shut and covered his ears. He hated to hear his mother cry.

Bellamy vowed to himself to find a job as soon as he could. Even if it meant missing school or the sleeping hours. He would try to do anything he could to spare his mother her tears. He eventually fell asleep.

When he woke up, his mother was gone already, off to her official job as a seamstress. She left a small note on the table.

'I love you. There's food in the cupboard.'

She'd always start her small notes with I love you, like she was trying to prove something. But Bellamy knew she loved him. Or she wouldn't be doing all this. She would let herself die. But she was doing everything she could for her son to live. That's why Bellamy needed to get a job. And fast. He wanted to help her. It was his turn, now.

He opened the cupboard and suddenly remembered the girl next door. He took a ration and knocked on her door. She opened it, and he handed it to her, smiling.

She stared at the boy, and at the ration in his hand. "No," she said.

"Why not?"

"It's yours. You're not going to eat if I take it."

Bellamy chuckled. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He sat at the little table, opened the pack and gave half of it to the girl. "That better?" he asked, handing half to her.

She nodded and took it. She looked at it in her hands, turned it over, making sure it was real. Bellamy was already eating his part and he chuckled. "You can eat it, you know?"

She looked at him and ate. Just then, the door burst open and her drunk father walked in.

"Whatareyoudoing?" he slurred, walking in zigzag. "Getoutofmyroom," he said to Bellamy. He slapped him but missed.

"No, daddy! Stop!" the little girl screamed. "Leave him alone."

Bellamy didn't know what to do. Run to save his own skin or run with the girl to save her? He didn't have time to think. Her father grabbed him by the arm and threw him out of the room. Alone. The little girl cried but Bellamy stayed in the corridor, paralyzed, waiting for whatever came next. A couple minutes later, after screams and chairs thrown on the ground, the little girl ran out of the room – her cheeks wet and one was red from a slap – with her tiny backpack and didn't look back. She was off to school, and didn't even notice Bellamy.

He ran after her, but lost her altogether when he arrived at the school and she wasn't there. He went to his own class.

I'm gonna be a guard when I'm older, he said to himself. And I'm gonna arrest drunk fathers and float them. Bellamy was angry. He was angry he couldn't do anything for her.

He waited for the girl – he really needed to ask her her name instead of calling her the girl all the time – after school. She was the last one to walk out of her class. It was like she wanted to delay as much as possible going back to the small room she shared with her dad. Bellamy's little man heart broke and he walked silently next to her, hoping against hope that her father wouldn't be there when she arrived. She didn't speak either. She kept her gaze on her feet.

When they arrived in front of the door, the girl put her ear against the door and listened. "He's here. But he's sleeping," she simply said. She headed to the closest window overlooking the earth and the rising moon in the corridor and sat down. Bellamy sat across from her.

"What's your name?" he asked out of the blue.

"Mary Jane Ferris." She said with her small, soft voice. "But everyone calls me Jane."

"What do you prefer? Jane or Mary Jane?"

"Jane."

"Okay. I'm Bellamy Blake."

"I know." She quickly looked at him before looking back at the earth below them. "Do you think we'll once be able to go down there?"

"I hope so," Bellamy said. And they waited for her father to leave the room to get more drunk.

x-x-x

Now he looked at his newborn baby girl, the flames of the fire dancing on her tiny sleeping face, and he could see the little girl he had met all those years ago. She had the same nose as her. His heart swelled with love for Octavia, and he knew he would anything for her and Jane.

His girlfriend, his responsibility.

My daughter, my responsibility.


Hi again! thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you liked this chapter, too ;) what did you think of the Flashback? there are going to be some more in the future...

I was trying to find a ship name for Bellamy and Jane... Bellane? Janamy? any other ideas? I'll put up a poll on my profile later on, once there are a few ideas, and you'll choose one we'll use ;)

See you soon for Chapter 4!