Octavia has been discovered and imprisoned, Bellamy's mother and Clarke's father have been floated, but Clarke's involvement in attempting to reveal that the oxygen is running out hasn't been discovered yet, so she's not in the sky box. Starting a bit before the 100 were sent to earth.
The siren flashed and the alarm sounded shrilly, alerting the guards to a disturbance in the mess hall. Bellamy was amongst the small group of armed guards running to the call. Since Octavia was discovered and his mother was floated for hiding her he had nothing to do but continue to rise through the ranks, going from cadet to guard in just a year.
The small group of guards burst through the metal double doors to see a middle aged man standing on top of one of the long metal tables, leaning to one side drunkenly. He was waving a long, sharp shard of glass in his right hand, gripping it so hard that his palm had started to bleed. He was pointing the glass towards a small group of people huddled at the edge of the room. Bellamy glanced around, noticing the overturned chairs, broken glass and the remains of section 17's lunch littering the floor before taking a step forward, drawing the man's attention, and the point of the glass shard, towards him, and away from the innocent people.
'Sir, step down from the table.' His deep voice reverberated around the room, commanding attention.
'No. Make me.' Slurred the man, squinting at the fierce looking guard.
'Sir, I said get down from the table, now.' Bellamy took another step forward gesturing behind his back for the remaining guards to spread out.
The man lurched forward, almost tipping off the table and started waving the glass in Bellamy's face. Bellamy just stared back unblinkingly 'Last chance.' He said stonily.
The drunk man eyed up Bellamy before launching himself off the table, taking the two of them down to the floor. In seconds Bellamy had him face down on the floor with his arms pinned behind his back. Two other guards helped lift the man from the floor, handcuffing him and marching him grimly from the room, knowing full well what his fate would be.
Bellamy winced as Miller caught his eye.
'You better get to medical' he said mildly, eyeing the shard of glass protruding from Bellamy's shoulder, still smudged with the drunk man's blood at one end. Sighing, Bellamy nodded his head and reluctantly headed to the medical station.
Stepping inside the Ark's answer to a hospital Bellamy noticed a woman who looked to be around 40, with dark blonde hair, in a green uniform, tending to a young girl on one of the beds. 'Have a seat, I'll be with you in a minute' she said without looking up.
The material of the hospital bed crinkled as he sat down and he winced slightly as the throbbing in his shoulder intensified with the movement. But before he could dwell on it his attention was taken by the figure standing in the doorway. A young woman, Bellamy guessed around 20 years old, had entered the medical station, wearing the same uniform as the other medic. Her light blonde hair was twisted into a braid, a few pieces falling around her face and she was humming to herself.
'Clarke,' the older woman said in a surprised tone, still not looking up from her patient, 'you aren't due here for another 15 minutes.'
'I know, and yet here I am anyway.' Said the younger blonde teasingly. 'And just in time by the looks of things.' She nodded at Bellamy, catching his eye before walking to stand next to the bed.
'Well this is a first.' She said with the same teasing tone, eyeing the glass in the guards shoulder.
He cleared his throat, the deep sound drawing Clarke's eyes back to the guard, taking in his dark hair brushed neatly back from his face, his dark brown eyes, and the many freckles dusting his defined face. 'There was a disturbance in the mess hall, a man...drunk...moonshine probably.' He said carefully. Clarke's eyes narrowed. Nigel.
'I see,' said Clarke lightly, 'well you'll have to take off your guards jacket so I can get a proper look at the damage.'
He raised his eyebrows, about to question Clarke on how he was supposed to do that with the glass still in both his shoulder and his jacket, when she gripped the end of the shard with both hands and yanked it cleanly from his shoulder. He grunted in pain and surprise, moving to sit up straight, but found himself held still by two surprisingly strong hands.
'Jacket.' She said firmly.
He shrugged out of the thick leather, wincing again at the jolt of pain through his shoulder. Clarke's hands pulled the jacket off the rest of the way and dropped it onto a chair next to the bed before moving to get a better look at the stab wound.
'You're going to need a couple of stitches I'm afraid.' She said checking Bellamy's shoulder. 'You'll have to take your shirt off, I wouldn't want to have to cut it.'
Bellamy raised his eyebrows at Clarke, who stared back blankly. 'Turn around' he clarified, making Clarke laugh.
'I've seen it all before' she said with a grin, but turned her back none the less. When she turned back around the guard was shirtless on the bed and she found her eyes drawn to his bare chest, and then lower, to his defined abs, before she realised what she was doing.
Quickly she turned around, preparing her surgical tray, getting ready to stitch the wound, and hiding the blush heating up her cheeks in the process.
Bellamy almost succeeded in hiding his smirk as he noticed Clarke's eyes wandering lower from his shoulder before she quickly turned around. When she turned back however, she was all business. Her small hands moved to numb, clean, and stitch up the wound and she was done in minutes. Bellamy took the short time to study Clarke whilst she worked, taking in her clear, fair skin dotted with beauty marks, and light blue eyes framed by long lashes.
'What's your name?' Clarke asked as she wiped the remaining blood from his shoulder.
'Bellamy Blake.' He said, looking up at her, and she noticed again the freckles that adorned his face, hundreds of them, sat on top of his tanned skin.
'Well, we're all done here Bellamy, the pain medication will wear off in a few hours and then you'll feel some discomfort in your shoulder for a few days, but unless there are any complications you shouldn't need to come back here.' Clarke said with a friendly smile.
'Thank you, Clarke.' Her name had never sounded as good as it did in his deep voice.
He pulled his top back over his head, wincing, so Clarke helped him back into his guard's jacket, which was difficult considering he towered above her when he stood up.
Clarke watched him as he walked from the medical station, not noticing her mother watching her in turn.