Hey! Here's chapter 3!
Disclaimer: Guess what! I still don't own The 100! Who would've thought!
Redemption
Chapter 3
Clarke drifted in and out of consciousness, catching pictures and flashes of moments as she bounced along in Bellamy's arms. A canopy of green. Then black. Bright blue sky. Black again. Dark metal of the Ark. Black.
Hours later, things seemed to have settled. As Clarke's eyes fluttered open to reveal the dull, dark ceiling of the med bay. She could feel something warm and strong wrapped around her hand; something else, something comforting, brushing back her damp curls.
"Clarke?"
The blonde groaned, screwing up her face before blinking her eyes open again to look into two endless pools of brown.
"Clarke?"
"Wh-What happened?" the blonde rasped.
"Well, you caught your mom in a... compromising position. And then you kinda bolted. I found you in the woods," Bellamy explained.
"I remember that," Clarke sighed. "I mean, what happened to my leg?"
"Your mom said you must have dislocated your ankle when you fell. She had to put it back in. There was a lot of screaming," Bellamy shuddered.
Clarke was silent for a moment, searching through her mind for the memories as she tried to piece together the last few hours. She couldn't find anything.
The silence was broken by the sound of boots tapping against the metal flooring, slowly getting closer. Clarke turned her head to see her mother march into the room, unreadable expressions on her face.
"Dr. Griffin," Bellamy greeted the older woman with a curt nod.
"Bellamy."
The trio sat in an awkward silence, thress sets of eyes flicking between each other.
"I'll give you two a moment," Bellamy rose from his seat.
Clarke snatched his wrist and Bellamy's brown eyes caught the blonde's worried gaze.
"Don't go too far," she whispered.
"I won't," he promised.
The blonde released her grip on his wrist; blue eyes followed him as he stepped over to a corner of the room and took a seat on one of the many metal slabs that littered the room.
"Clarke?"
The teen whipped around to stare at her mother.
"I was going to tell you," Abby began as she pulled the bandage from her daughter's neck.
"When?" Clarke snapped, glaring at the doctor's back as she gathered up clean bandages.
"I wanted to see where it would go first, Clarke," Abby defended herself.
"See where it would go? What the hell does that even mean, Mom?" Clarke tried to sit up, but Abby pushed her shoulder lightly and began brushing Clarke's wound with a damp scrap of fabric.
"I wanted to wait and see if Marcus and I would get into anything more serious before I brought it up to you," Abby explained, placing a new bandage around her daughter's neck.
"More serious? Like what? Pregnancy? You two were making out like horny teenagers!"
"Clarke! That's enough!" Abby snapped.
"I'm out of here," Clarke huffed.
Clarke pushed herself off the slab she had been lying on, swinging her legs and dropping to the floor. Her ankle almost gave away under her weight, but she ignored it, keeping her chin up as she marched her way to the door. With each step on her left ankle, the offending joint wobbled, threatening to collapse under her at any moment.
"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Bellamy was suddenly in front of Clarke, blocking her path.
"Away from her," Clarke growled.
"Yeah, with that ankle? No way."
Suddenly, Clarke was lifted off the floor, cradled in Bellamy's arms.
"Bellamy! Put me down!" Clarke ordered.
"Sure, Princess," Bellamy smirked, dropping the blonde delicately onto a bed.
"I don't want to be here," Clarke grumbled.
"Too bad, Princess," Bellamy chuckled, running a hand over the fuming blonde's mused locked before turning to Abby.
"I think you should go," he suggested.
Abby nodded before walking slowly out of the room. She stopped to look at her daughter with emotional orbs. Clarke scowled at the woman. With a sigh, Abby continued out of the room.
The pair sat in silence for a moment, Bellamy's eyes locked on Clarke as the blonde avoided his gaze, prefering instead to look down at the threadbare blanket Bellamy had replaced across her lap.
"Clarke," Bellamy started.
"I don't wanna talk about it," Clarke snapped.
"She's your mother."
"I said, I don't wanna talk about it."
The pair fell into silence again.
"The week's almost up," Clarke muttered.
Bellamy nodded, unsure of what to say.
"I don't think we belong here. Not anymore."
"It takes time, Clarke. But it will get better," Bellamy looked intently into her watery baby blues.
He didn't think twice about what he did next, but it felt natural for him as he crawled slowly up into the palate, pulling the teary eyed little blonde into his arms as he shuffled his body under the thin blanket.
"Clarke," a voice broke them from thejr momwnt as the duo whipped around to find Raven standing in the door.
"Raven?"
"I... uh... I heard about your problem. Thought these might help."
The dark haired girl moved up to where the two were sitting and leaned two crudely made crutches against the metal slab.
"Thanks?" Clarke was puzzled as she studied the objects.
"They're crutches, Clarke. So you can move around without puttin weight on your ankle," Raven laughed at the younger girl's expression.
"You wanna try 'em, Princess?"
Clarke nodded, already scrambling from Bellamy's lap and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing at the crutches.
Bellamy chuckled at her eagerness and hopped effortlessly from the bed to his feet.
"Show off," Clarke grumbled, clearly in a better mood than she had been.
Bellamy and Raven had big smiles as they helped the blonde adjust to the crutches, chuckling at her flustered huffs when she couldn't quite get it, which fueled her frustration. Eventually, the gimpy blonde managed to hobble around the entire infirmary, with Bellamy and Raven watching from the center of the room. So she began to slowly make her way to the door.
"Where are you going?" Bellamy watched her go.
"Out," Clarke smirked. "I should probably find my mom."
Bellamy nodded, following her out into the sunlight, but not stopping her.