She ran towards him at full speed, only stoping when she felt her body crashing into his. This time, he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her as close as he could.
She was safe.
When the blond-haired girl finally pulled away, her flushed cheeks showed deep red signs of embarrassment. She straightened her back and took in a rasped breath.
He smirked, trying to hide the subtle change of color in his own olive cheeks.
"Welcome home, princess." He said, as he moved to the side, letting her explore. She rolled her eyes at his still present smirk but said nothing. Instead, a sudden darkness clouded her blue eyes.
She was thinking of Finn.
"Where's Finn?" Clarke regretted asking him that the moment the words left her lips. But by then it was too late.
For the first second, Bellamy looked taken aback by the sudden change. He recovered quickly from the shock. Clarke had sent herself to die but the Grounders sent her back, very much alive. Of course, she was now worried sick about Finn.
"Clarke..." Bellamy started. Then stopped. He never called her by her first name, never made the mistake unless in the middle of a crisis. But this one had been solved.
Clarke's bright eyes stared into Bellamy's dark ones as she tried to get the answers from his face. She knew him, knew what he was thinking even if he wasn't talking about it.
"He's gone, isn't he?' She asked, her voice trembling so badly it was painful to even listen to it. If he answered that question, Bellamy knew what was going to happen.
"Yes."
The next few seconds Clarke didn't know whether she should hide her tears from him or just cry. She hadn't noticed until then that night had fallen and no one else but the guards protecting the camp. She may had cried in front of Bellamy but she wasn't going to cry in front of strangers. So she blinked away the tears that had formed.
"Thanks." She said in a timid voice, before hurrying inside.
She broke down in some isolated room she came across, first punching the wall repeatedly, angry tears clearing her dirty face. But her knuckles soon started to bleed and common sense found its way to her again. It wasn't going to help him if she was bloody and crying. She needed a plan, a solid, flawlessly executed plan.
Clarke curled into a ball and started thinking, hot tears still running down her face. There were guards positioned at every entrance of the Grounders' camp. At least, in broad daylight. Clarke wondered how many were at night.
Probably more.
Two guards at every entrance.
They could take two down easily, but without the others hearing? And what about after they got Finn, supposing of course that they managed to do that. It would be a strict declaration of war, and war with the Grounders wasn't something Clarke found appealing.
But if she replaced him? She could lie, say that he ran back, or that he killed himself. She could say that he fell off a cliff and his body could never be retreated.
She doubted that would work.
She could fake his death, paint him in blood and hope the Grounders would be tricked.
She could...
There had to be something she could do.
He watched her run inside, he watched the tears forming in her eyes, clouding her view. She was going to try and figure out a plan.
He should've told her that he gave himself up just a little after Clarke did. Should've told her that by now, he was probably already dead.
He should've told her all this but simply didn't have the heart to do so. It was agony to watch her out of all people crumble down. And over a cheating, murderous bastard.
He didn't like Finn, that wasn't a secret and pushing his own feelings aside, he still couldn't see why Clarke was so hooked up on him.
It didn't matter at that moment.
Instead of dwelling any further on the matter, Bellamy decided to follow Clarke inside, and make sure she was alright. He also had to tell her about Finn.
He first looked for her in her room. She wasn't there and, luckily for him, her mother wasn't there either. He walked to the main room, where he did meet her mother.
"Clarke is back." He told the woman, trying both to be decently respectful and hide his worries. Her mother's eyes lit up the instant she heard her daughter's name and Bellamy couldn't help but think how much she looked like Clarke in that moment.
She nodded.
"Where is she?"
He didn't want to tell her he didn't know.
"Somewhere in the camp. She needed some time."
Some people insist that girls' mothers know exactly when you are interested in their girl. And at that moment, when Abigail Griffin smiled at him, Bellamy could've sworn those people were damn right. He shook that feeling off.
"You don't know where she is, do you?" Griffin asked him, probably already guessing his answer.
He shook his head anyway.
"Well, we'd better find her."
They parted ways to cover more space, and Bellamy didn't waste any time.
Clarke had given up on a solution to save Finn once she figured out that if the Grounders hadn't killed her nor come after her people, it obviously meant they had received what they wanted. As much as she wanted to deny it, needed it to be false, planning to do something reckless and idiotic and deadly, she knew it would be fruitless.
Finn was dead, that was the truth.
He couldn't find her anywhere. Not in any tent or room in the whole camp. What if she had gone alone to the Grounders?
She cried as she struggled to keep his memory as close to her heart as she could. He had died thinking she hated him.
He kept walking, checking and rechecking every corner.
She had loved him.
He searched all night for a sign, a noise that could indicate where Clarke was.
She finally cried herself to sleep.
When the sun rose above the Jaha Camp, Bellamy was still looking for Clarke but by now, his eyes, half open, were always directed towards the woods. He had run into Abigail several times throughout the night, and they had both parted again with a simple distressed look. Neither of them wanted to form a search party because they were both afraid of what would happen to the blonde girl after she was found.
When morning came, Abigail sent Bellamy to bed. He went to talk to the rest of the 100 that were not dead nor in Mount Weather.
They were terribly few.
"So Clarke disappeared?" Raven asked. Her eyes were as read as her jacket, but her voice was strong.
"Yes." Bellamy answered. He had insisted on discussing outside, in case the blonde suddenly decided to make her appearance.
"So we go after her." Octavia said, giving Lincoln a subtle look. Lincoln had no choice but to agree.
"But, wouldn't that mean war?" Mel asked, a terrified look on her face.
Bellamy wanted to say he didn't care. He wanted to say that it did not matter for it was Clarke they were talking about.
But he couldn't say those things.
"Ok, so we need a plan." Raven concluded, determining a long moment of silence.
The girl, however, spoke again soon enough.
"What if she just wanted to be alone?" There were other words hidden between the lines. Words like I did the same and I don't blame her.
"I searched everywhere." Bellamy answered, ignoring Raven's surprised look and his sister's smirk.
Clarke woke up with a pounding headache.
Actually, it felt more like someone had cut her head into two.
It was a horrible pain to endure, above her heartache.
But the blonde got up anyway, brushing dust off her trousers and trying to make her hair look respectable. Then she scanned the room she was in swiftly, forcing herself to remember the night before. All around stood metallic shelves, filled with all kinds of supplies. Some of the products were thrown on the ground and Clarke guessed that was her fault. She tried to put some back up, though the whole job was time consuming. She'd have rather talked with her friends than rearrange useless supplies.
She promised she would go back later to fix the damage and exited the small cupboard.
Suddenly, she wondered how the heck she found that room. It was so well hidden that she was absolutely sure in the dead of the night, if she were in her right mind, she would pass right by it.
Nice thinking, to hide the source.
As she walked out, the sun hit her full force, momentarily blinding her. Judging by its position, it must have been almost midday.
How much had she slept?
"I think we ought to give you glasses." Octavia teased, pointing to a figure just exiting the station.
Bellamy followed the direction his sister was pointing at, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the person of interest.
Clarke Griffin was standing within the safe boundaries of the camp. He smiled in relief and resisted the urge to run towards her, to hold her tightly against him.
Octavia nudge him playfully, before calling out to Clarke.
"Hey." The blonde greeted them, avoiding at all costs eye contact with a specific brown-haired. He, however, noticed the similarities between Clarke and Raven's eyes. Both had a mix between purple, from the sleepless night, and red, from all the crying conturing their eyes.
Bellamy wasn't the only one to notice this thing as Octavia gave them both an easy smile. It had been her eyes not long ago that had looked like that.
Clarke also gave Raven a subtle smile, which Raven replied to. Right then, it was their small moment of mutual understanding .
"Do we have any news?" Clarke asked, her voice so tough, it surprised everyone.
The kids talked about Mount Weather next, trying to pretend that nothing was different, acting as if nothing had happened and the main thought on their mind was still how to get everyone else out.
By the time the night fell, Bellamy was as tired as ever and was no longer thinking straight. The rest of them, though a bit more freshened up, were just about as incapable as him. Clarke gave an involuntary yawn, making everyone else subconsciously do the same.
"I think that's enough for today." She said, noticing everyone else's state. She looked up at Bellamy only to notice his dark eyes were no longer focusing.
It was definitely enough.
"How are you feeling, Princess?" Bellamy was following her as she made her way inside the station.
For a second, she considered lying.
"Like crap."
He smiled at her honesty.
"Don't mock me." She threatened immediately as she made her way to the closet.
"I wasn't mocking you, Princess."
They had reached the cupboard.
"What are we doing here?" He asked, confused, as Clarke opened the door and stepped inside the small room.
He did not want to jump to conclusions but his tired brain couldn't think of too many reasons why.
"I" She started, making a short pause to put something back on a shelf. Bellamy peaked around. "Am going to fix the mess I've made. You, I don't know."
She didn't want to ask for help for one simple reason: the room reflected perfectly the state she had been in last night.
Bellamy, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to help. So without saying a word, he entered the minuscule room as well, joining Clarke who had already started cleaning up. He looked around: the room was a mess, reminding him of pictures he saw when he had been a kid of tornadoes.
"What happened in here?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.
She said nothing about the subject. Actually, she ignored him completely as they both started cleaning up.
"You must have been really annoyed." He said, when the last bottle of a strange liquid was finally put into place.
"Shut up." She answered, in mocked annoyance.
It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his help because she did. It saved her at least half the time she would have spent if it weren't for him. But she didn't need him asking questions about what she did when she ran away the night before.
"It must be horrible." He finally said, just as the blonde girl was getting ready to go. She looked into his big, black eyes, surprised at how caring they looked.
He stared right back into those beautiful blue pools of feelings. Then, without being able to control it, his gaze flickered for just a second down, at her full, rosy lips. He forced his eyes back up but it was too late for her not to notice.
She couldn't do that just yet. It felt too soon, like she were betraying Finn. On the other hand, she had wanted that far before Finn had died.
It still felt wrong.
Instead of kissing her, Bellamy put his strong arms around her, wrapping her as close to him as he could. And Clarke let herself soften, feeling as safe as she used to feel, long ago when her dad was still alive and nothing ever went wrong.
Alright guys! I hope you enjoyed reading!
This was initially supposed to be a one-shot but after rereading I found myself full of ideas about how to continue. So it's up to you to decide the faith of this story!
So please, tell me if you are interested or not :-)