Bellamy stood at the dropship's entrance, surrounded by their group of delinquents, waiting for silence. Clarke was standing next to him - the perfect queen, he thought - still and patiently awaiting silence.
"Everybody be quiet!" He commanded. The last few whispers faded into nothing, and eighty-something faces looked up at him. Bellamy cleared his throat and put a hand on his hip.
"Right: A few nights ago someone came into my tent and tried to kill me. Suffice it to say they were unsuccessful"- he broke off, waiting for the new wave of murmurs to dissipate, while clenching his jaw impatiently.
"Suffice it to say they were unsuccessful," he repeated, his voice carrying a fierce and challenging tone, "but whoever it is tried again last night. They tried to break into Clarke's tent and finish the job. So if anyone saw or heard anything last night or this morning - anything suspicious - now is the time to share." He finished, retreating back next to Clarke so that anyone who wished to approach them could.
His brief speech was met with silence. Curious faces swiveled to and fro, waiting for someone to step forward. Bellamy clicked his tongue in exasperation. Of course no one had seen anything. God, what he'd do for a little more courage in this camp. He tilted his head in Clarke's direction and the two shared annoyed looks. He was about to dismiss them when someone spoke.
"What were you doing in Clarke's tent?" An amused female's voice asked. Over a hundred eyes were suddenly piercing him and Clarke, half amused, half judging, and Bellamy's mind went blank at the request for an answer.
"He's been staying in my tent because his isn't safe." Clarke interjected, an annoyed tone in her voice. Bellamy turned to her. Her eyes met his for a moment, blue skies to dark earth, before they looked back at the camp. Some expressions and raised eyebrows suggested that Clarke's reasoning was not being taken seriously, but Bellamy decided not to care what they thought. The idea that he and Clarke were anything more than partners - although, admittedly, not unappealing - made no difference to how they led or how they were respected by their people. So why bother trying to convince everybody they weren't together.
'Maybe because you'd like to believe it yourself,' a sly voice in his head murmured. Bellamy frowned and wiped a hand across his face, hoping it would wipe the thought away too.
"Well your tent obviously isn't safe either." Finn chirped up from the group before them, his brooding eyes on Clarke.
"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Bellamy didn't even try to hide the accusing tone in his voice. Finn took an angry step toward him and he did the same, enclosing the distance between them. Clarke was quick to move between them (no doubt unkeen to have their dirty laundry aired in front of so many people)
"Wow, guys, c'mon. Not now." She reasoned, her voice low and motherly. Her eyes darted his way and then Finn's, silently pleading. Bellamy sighed in irritation and retreated, addressing the group again.
"Well if anybody thinks of anything, you know where to find me. Back to your stations. Now." He finished. The crowd was quick to disappear, but Finn, Jasper, Monty and Octavia were reluctant to go.
"Someone tried to kill you? And you didn't tell me?" Octavia started, rushing to his side. Bellamy tilted his head in her direction and scowled. She was so quick to judge him. But she was the reckless one. He just hadn't wanted to worry her.
"I didn't want to cause panic. It's no big deal really." He shot back flatly, suggesting the conversation was over. Clarke scoffed and raised her eyebrows.
"Really? No big deal? Because you lost consciousness on my bed before I could stitch you up." She reminded him. He growled but didn't reply. Octavia looked from him to Clarke, a look of bewilderment and disbelief on her face.
"Clarke? Why wouldn't you tell me?" She asked the other girl. Clarke's expression softened and she moved closer.
"It wasn't my place to tell you. We decided we wouldn't tell anybody - for safety's sake - but even if we hadn't; it still wouldn't have been my place to tell you." She murmured, eying Bellamy wearily. Octavia looked back at him and frowned, before devouring him in a tight hug. He grimaced when she hit his injury, but returned the hug nonetheless, wrapping his arms tightly around her. His eyes flickered to Clarke, who was staring at the siblings in silence.
He felt a sense of pride in being the only brother around. The only person with a sister. He couldn't help but pity the rest of them. He and Octavia were the only two people in the camp that would always be there for the other. Sure, he had Clarke, and Octavia had Jasper - 'And that Grounder,' he added bitterly. But alliances could change. Love could fade. Family - if cared for properly - would never leave.
He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed before letting her go. She took a step back, and the happiness on Octavia's face was like a sucker punch to the heart.
"I don't mean to ruin the moment," Finn's voice suddenly sounded.
"Then don't." Bellamy muttered under his breath. The look Finn gave him told him his comment hadn't gone unnoticed.
"...But I think you're bleeding." He finished cooly. It was Bellamy's turn to scoff, until he felt the wet material of his shirt. He looked down and shuddered. He was bleeding, his stitches must have opened.
"God, not again." Clarke groaned and turned to Monty.
"Monty, I don't suppose you've found anything down here with effects similar to oxycodone?" She asked. Monty shook his head.
"Nothing as strong, no. But I think I may have found something for headaches." He added lightly. Bellamy saw Clarke repress a laugh.
"Well come on, Princess." He said, cocking his head in the direction of her tent. Clarke nodded and fell into step beside him.
•••
"Stop moving," she scolded. Bellamy huffed and closed his eyes. God, her hands were cold. He decided to focus on that instead of the needle going through his skin. 'Focus on her.' He had told himself.
He could feel her hair, brushing his side every time she threaded the suture. He could feel her breathing - long, laboured breaths, to prevent herself from shaking. Her cold hands came every few seconds, brushing against his skin, gently applied to keep him still as she worked. Everything about her was rhythmic. He could have fallen asleep if he wanted to.
"So, I think that went well," she murmured. Bellamy pried an eye open, a frown forming as he did so.
"We didn't get anything," he replied, annoyed. Clarke stopped to meet his eyes for a second, before looking down to continue.
"Yeah, but...At least now they know what's been going on," she reasoned. He let out a huff and closed his eyes again.
"Though we should probably talk about where we're gonna go next." He heard her say in a strained voice. He felt her shift her weight and she exhaled in content. The stitching was over. He opened his eyes and sat up so she could start with the bandage.
"What do you mean 'where we're gonna go next'?" He asked, watching her unravel the roll of material. Her expression was blank - as it usually was when she worked.
"I just meant that...Well, you slept in my tent because yours wasn't safe. But last night proved that mine isn't either. And now everyone thinks we're sleeping together." She murmured, her eyes never leaving the bandaging. He moved closer to her and she began wrapping the material around his stomach, careful to not tug too tight. Bellamy stared at her quizzically.
"So you're kicking me out?" He asked, trying to keep it light, despite his current feelings. Clarke finished tying the bandage but didn't move away.
"No," she said, shaking her head. Bellamy frowned. Why was she being so evasive? He stood up and started tugging his shirt over his head.
"I think we should sleep in your tent tonight." She suggested. Bellamy did a double take.
"Why?"
Clarke rolled her eyes and stood up.
"Well," she began, edging nearer, "my tent isn't any safer than yours. So I think you can have your tent back."
Bellamy cocked an eyebrow.
"I understand that bit, Princess, thanks. I meant; why are you sleeping with me in my tent?"
Clarke was less than a foot away now, crossing her arms in defense.
"Well, whoever it is is less likely to try to kill you if they know there's more than one person nearby." She finished, a confident expression on her face. Bellamy stilled for a moment. It didn't make all that much sense, to be honest. With everyone up to speed, there was less likelihood that the person would try anything at all. And his tent was still as unsafe as it had been the previous night. And why did she have to stay with him?
A smirk formed on his face as a thought passed. He took a step towards her and looked at her with dark eyes.
"You just can't stand not to be with me, can you?" He asked teasingly. He saw her cheeks turn pink and she backed away from him.
"Look if you don't want me to stay with you'- she began.
-"I do." He interrupted.
A short silence followed. This time it was her turn to look satisfied with herself.
"You just can't stand not be with me, can you?" She threw his own words back, a daring look on her face. Bellamy narrowed his eyes, but kept the taunting smirk in place.
"Princess." He murmured, before turning around and exiting her tent, praying her blush was still in place.
I can't believe this has over 100 followers, thank you so much! *kisses every one of you on the forehead* I'll update as soon as I can, so tell me if you liked this chapter, because I really enjoyed writing it. We're getting closer to the season finale - cue uncontrollable hyperventilation - I'm so excited! xxx