If Clarke were honest, she didn't really know how she'd got here. Her 9 year old self would be freaking out at the prospect of crawling, hands and knees, through the vents of some back road drug house in the middle of the night. Yet here she was. It was too James Bond for her mind to handle, so she focussed instead on breathing steadily through her mouth and avoiding scraping her knees on the ridges where the metal connected.
Though Bellamy crawled along in front of her their movements created no echoes. This should have comforted Clarke but it made her feel as if they were crawling through a tunnel miles underground and sealed with cement with no air for the echoes to pass through. In reality, they must be about a floor above ground, if Bellamy's maps were correct. But Clarke's stomach was dropping and her head was spinning; what the hell was she doing? The adrenaline had kicked in once he'd burst back in to his apartment where she was researching after work and announced that he'd had a solid lead on where Octavia was being held. But now Clarke's wrists were incredibly sore and she felt like vomiting; she wasn't a Bond girl. She should've left this to-
"Here." Bellamy hissed back to her. A panel of light illuminated his face, casting a shadow from his dimple and illuminating his cheeks. He really was beautiful, Clarke thought distractedly, before she realised what it meant.
She peered down at the square vent he'd crawled over and turned to face. Below the room was lit with an oddly soft golden light-from what Clarke could see the walls were a pale grey. She looked back up at Bellamy ready to unhinge the grate when he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.
"Clarke-" he swallowed audibly and for the first time since she'd known him, Clarke got the distinct feeling that he might be about to breakdown. She placed a hand over his, supporting herself awkwardly on only her right.
"It's okay, Bellamy. We're going to find her." She reassured him softly but he just shook his head.
"No-no, no – it's not. It's not okay, Clarke, I-" He looked down and took his hand away, resting on his heels as much as the low vent would allow. He ended up practically curled in on himself with his face in his palms as Clarke tried to reason with him again.
"I'm sorry, Clarke. Oh, God, I'm so, so sorry. You were just-I didn't know how…she's my only family-"
"Bellamy what the hell are you-" talking about she was going to finish before a voice pierced through their little huddle as the sound of door quietly opening and softly shutting reached them.
"I told you, it's not going to be a problem. I'm not going to let them hurt you, okay? But you need to drink this- you need to keep your strength up so we can get out of here." The voice was unmistakeably male; deep and urgent, though Clarke heard no reply. A fan was switched on somewhere beneath them and to Clarke's surprise Bellamy was paying little attention: lips parted as if to say something and eyes glistening with unspoken horrors. Clarke started at his face and gestured violently towards the voices below-anything to get him to stop looking at her like that. Perhaps a little too violently, but they do say hindsight it 20/20. A soft tang resonated on the metal vent and the shuffling of feet beneath them ceases immediately; whoever they were, something was going on that shouldn't be.
Clarke scanned the metal coffin quickly to see what was moving, and the golden light reflected dimly off of the zipper on the sleeve of her leather jacket. Shit.
The movements below had now become louder and more purposeful; the sound of a draw sliding open and a chair being placed assaulted Clarke's ears as she swallowed sickeningly and met Bellamy's equally wide eyes. At least he's not looking like he's about to throw himself of a bridge Clarke thought fleetingly until the light illuminating his face scrambled and was replaced by the shadow of a pistol slanted up ad into the vent.
"Show me your hands very slowly or I'll empty this into your face."
Sorry for the long time to update, real life shit ya know :P Enjoy! Will be wrappign it up in the next few chappies
