"Up in Flames"
Lucawindmover
Chapter Nine
"Underneath"
"So you do want to leave then?" Bellamy confirmed, pushing his tray to the side.
"We go where you go," Miller answered, propping his elbows up on the table.
"Yeah," Monroe added. "If you say it isn't safe, we believe you."
"We have no way of knowing if these Mountain people are telling us the truth," Miller continued. "I mean, they could even be putting drugs in this crazy delicious food."
Bellamy raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't seem to be stopping you from eating it."
Miller popped another piece of fruit in his mouth. "Hey, if you or Clarke say to stop eating the food, I won't eat the food. I won't like it but I'll do it. Simple as that." Monroe nodded her head in agreement.
Bellamy wasn't sure when he'd earned such trust and faith. He didn't really feel worthy of it in any capacity. He couldn't forget their first month on earth, the lives that had been lost in his foolish attempt to save his own. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been more scared, of everything, than he had been those first weeks on the ground. Fear had motivated him to make horrible decisions. There would never be a moment in his life that he didn't remember how selfish he'd been. He'd spent every moment since his reprieve trying to make up for that time. And it seemed as if those around him had taken this change to heart.
He was about to ask them if they had any intel on Murphy, lurking along the back wall and attempting not to be seen but he was distracted by Clarke abruptly standing at her table and walking briskly toward the doorway. She looked really pale and had the back of her hand against her mouth as she visibly strained to keep from running.
Miller and Monroe followed his gaze. Miller dropped his eyes to the table, shaking his head. Monroe sighed and crossed her arms over her stomach.
Bellamy pushed himself up from the table but before he could go, Monroe reached across the table and grabbed his arm.
"She's gonna need a wet wash cloth, for her face," she said with a sad smile. "And don't hover. Every time Miller tries to hover I have the worst urge to punch him. I'm thinking Clarke has a good left hook."
His eyes darted back and forth between the pair in front of him, kicking himself for not seeing it before. Miller shrugged and Monroe raised an eyebrow, daring him to say something.
Instead, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, in the direction Clarke had rushed toward. "What…I mean, is that…?"
"Morning sickness, man," Miller answered, shaking his head again. "And the damn stuff doesn't just happen in the morning. Go figure."
Bellamy sighed and nodded, turning and making his way toward the bathroom. As he approached, he could hear heaving in one of the toilet stalls and he gave himself a moment to just to breathe. There were very few things that made him queasy. He could gut an animal, pull arrows out of appendages, eat insects they'd found when they didn't have enough food. But vomit? It tried to get him every time.
Following Monroe's instructions, he grabbed a wash cloth from the stack by the sink and ran the water until it was warm. He rung out as much of the water as he could, trying to make sure Clarke was done before he approached. It sounded like it, even if she was still sitting on the floor in there.
"Clarke?" he asked rounding the side of the stall and standing back, waiting for her to say something.
She hadn't even pulled the curtain closed. He imagined that if the look on her face in the mess hall had been any indication, there just hadn't been time. She was sitting on her knees with her back to him, her shoulders shaking. He didn't know if she was crying or if it was the physical exhaustion that usually came with getting sick. But he took couple of steps forward and touched her shoulder. She didn't jump, just sat there.
"Monroe said you might want this," he said, holding the cloth out where she could see it.
Clarke sighed heavily and took it, rubbing her face briskly. "So Monroe saw then?"
Bellamy shrugged but when he remembered that she couldn't see him, he said, "She knows what you're going through."
Finally she turned and looked at him. Her face had color in it again which was good. But her eyes were full of tears. He'd been sick a few times before. He knew that vomiting could make your eyes water. But somehow he knew that wasn't the case here.
He put his hand out to help her up and she took it, only holding on to it long enough to stand. She walked on shaky legs to the sink and ran the water, taking handfuls of it to rinse out her mouth. Grabbing a clean cloth, she wiped at her face again. He stood back, waiting. He had no idea what he was waiting for, only that he felt like was waiting for something.
And there it was. When she met his eyes in the mirror, eyes brimming with tears again, he knew what he'd been waiting for. It took him two long strides to cover the space between them. He gently turned her around and wrapped his arms around her.
Clarke pressed her face to the crook of his neck and held on to him as if she were afraid she'd float away. She was shaking but he didn't feel any tears.
"Bellamy," she whispered against his skin. "I'm scared."
Those three words. He felt them to the depth of his soul. Those words tore into him like none other before them, bringing tears to his own eyes. He looked up to the ceiling, blinking them back and taking a deep breath before pressing his cheek to the top of her hair.
"I am too, Princess," he said softly.
"How are we going to do this?" she asked. "How do we get everyone out of here? How do…how do we take care of a whole camp full of pregnant girls? And then babies? Out there? I just…I'm scared. Scared of this. I just can't. I just can't…"
Clarke trailed off, taking a few really long, steadying breaths. He could feel her nose against the skin of his neck, her lips pressed just above the edge of his shirt. She squeezed him tightly one more time and then seemed to have stitched herself back together. She blinked toward the ceiling, swallowing back tears and clearing her throat, shaking her hands out by her sides. He watched her building back up her supports and he wished she didn't have to endlessly be doing that. He wished there was some way he could take some of that weight for her. What he wouldn't do for one of Clarke's shooting stars right now. But he didn't know how to help. Or how to ask her if she would even let him help.
"Okay," she said, the steel back in her voice. Here was Clarke, the warrior Princess. "If we can't get out of here, we won't have those things to worry about anyway. So first things first. Follow me out of the camera angle," she instructed, walking toward the shower section.
"You're already figuring out the cameras?" he asked.
She turned and crossed her arms. "Tell me that's not judgment."
He shook his head and smirked. "Nope. Pride."
"I don't plan on being here long," she said, a little smile playing on her lips at his comment. "I've only identified one so far and it's in the hallway. It's in a dome so the camera can rotate between the mess hall, the dorm, and the bathroom entrance. From there it can see the sinks and the first half of the toilet stalls but not back here. If there are others, in the mess hall and the dorms, I haven't found them yet. Raven's on the lookout though. If anyone can find them, she can."
Bellamy nodded.
Clarke turned and pointed to a vent on the back wall, near the top. "The ceilings in here are probably ten feet so this won't be easy. We shouldn't bring a chair in here though because that might raise suspicion. Can you…"
"Hoist you up there?" he asked.
"Yeah," she finished.
"How much do you weigh?"
She just raised an eyebrow.
Bellamy shook his head, laughing. "I'm kidding. God, I grew up with my mother and my sister. I know that's not something to ask a girl. Trust me."
She tried not to smile. Tried. But she failed and rolled her eyes, motioning for him to join her under the vent. "Okay, how should we do this?"
He squatted down and laced his fingers. "Step on my hands and I'll stand up. That should get you close enough."
She nodded and did as he instructed, holding on to the wall for support as he stood.
Bellamy could feel his arms shaking. Having been in a coma and then nutrition-deprived, he wasn't as strong as he had been. It wasn't that Clarke was that heavy. Sure, she was a little curvier than some of the other girls in there group and normally that was a complete non-issue for him. Right now, he kind of wished he was hoisting Raven instead, since his arms and shoulders still felt weak, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that ever bringing up Raven would be a really bad idea.
"We're in luck," Clarke said. "Flathead screws. And even better. This is an exhaust vent. There's a big fan inside to suck out the steamy air from the showers."
"Are you done?" Bellamy said, trying to keep the strain out of his voice.
"Oh," she answered. "Yeah, you can put me down."
He lowered her down and resisted the urge to just sit on the floor now. He really needed to get back in shape before they left. He'd have to start working with all the guys, anyone who wanted to strengthen their coma-weakened limbs.
"How is a big ass fan in the way gonna be a good thing?" he asked, leaning back against the wall.
"It's good because that vent shaft will lead outside," she answered with a gleam in her eyes. "And I'd have to consult with Raven, but there's got to be a way to get the fan out of the way."
"Without them knowing?"
She shrugged. "Like I said. Have to ask Raven."
He nodded. That was all he'd meant to do but there must have been something about his expression that gave him away.
Clarke sighed and turned away from him for a second, her hands on her hips. He knew that stance. Nothing good tended to come from that stance.
"Look," she said and then she turned back around. "I know about the tryst with Raven, okay? But she and I are fine. We have no issues. And me and you?" she said, gesturing between them. "We have no claims on each other, right? I mean, what's in the past is in the past and whatever's in the future is something to deal with as it comes up. Right?"
Bellamy wasn't sure he felt that way, about the claims at least. He felt he absolutely had a claim on her and if anyone else tried to question that, broken knuckles would be the least of anyone's concern. He didn't want to think of anyone else being close to her. Not touching, not talking, nothing. Not anything. He'd never thought he would ever long for their quiet white room with their blood painting the wall in a mural and their makeshift floor-bed and their privacy, but he did. He'd always had to share her before so he had no idea where this sudden possessiveness was coming from. But one thing he was sure of was the fact that they did have claims on each other, whether they were ready to tackle the topic or not.
But she was standing there and waiting for an answer, that hopeful look on her face, expecting him to say that she was right. And he knew that now was not the time for tackling.
"Right," he answered, his voice a little thicker than he'd meant it to be. "You're right. We have more immediate problems to deal with right now."
She nodded in return and he was sure there was a sadness to her expression that he couldn't understand but she didn't give him time to interpret it.
"So, the first thing we need to do is get a spoon through the metal detector."
Bellamy's brow furrowed. "How the hell are you going to manage that?"
Clarke's eyes sparkled and she grinned and that expression was just the breath of fresh air he'd needed since they'd woken up in this damned place.
"I have a plan," she said with that wicked grin and he was helpless to follow as she led the way back to the mess hall.
One of the things Clarke hated the most about the cameras in this place was not actually the loss of privacy. It was the paranoia. She found herself very aware of every movement, every gesture. She didn't want to give the Mountain people any indication that they were plotting to get free. She found herself afraid of talking to the same people too often, or drawing the same groups at the tables, or even being seen spending too much time with Bellamy, though the last one could have been easily explained away given the circumstances.
Coming back into the mess hall, Clarke found that her plans to sneak a spoon would have to wait until the evening meal. Plates, trays, and silverware had all been cleaned up and it seemed as if half of their group had left the room, taking the opportunity to get naps or showers. Raven was still in the room, her feet propped up on the table before her and the book she was reading before firmly in hand.
"Can you do something for me?" she asked over her shoulder.
Bellamy just raised an eyebrow and waited.
"Can you go tell Raven about my idea? Spoon, exhaust vent, fan?"
"Why don't you want to do it?" he asked, crossing his arms.
In truth, she hated the idea of sending him over to talk to Raven. But if she was going to start trying to keep him away from girls he'd slept with, she'd be pulling him away from half the girls in here on a regular basis. She swallowed down that feeling, deciding avoidance would be the better course of action as far as jealousy was concerned.
"I do," she answered. "But I don't want to be caught on camera talking to her too much. I don't want to give them any reason to suspect that something's off."
Bellamy sighed but seemed to understand what she was saying. "Fine. But do something for me in return?"
"Sure."
"Ask around about Murphy. I saw him dodging us earlier. I want to know how he got here and what he's been like since he's been here," he said. With a frown, he added, "I don't want to find out he's still murderous by getting a pillowcase over my face in the middle of the night."
Clarke felt her stomach jolt. That was an image she certainly didn't want in her mind. "Yeah," she answered. "The spoon is out until dinner anyway. I'll do that. You talk to Raven."
She watched him head in Raven's direction for only a moment before turning to the task at hand.
There were only about half a dozen people still in the mess hall but it didn't take her long to get the information she was looking for. She'd decided she would start with who Murphy had been paired with. From the sound of it, everyone knew who everyone else had been paired with. It wasn't a secret. So when the third person confirmed that Murphy had been paired with Harper, she went to seek the girl out.
Harper wasn't in the mess hall. She had to be in the dorms. Clarke managed to catch Bellamy's eye for a second and she tilted her head toward the doorway. He seemed to understand because his face darkened and he nodded once before continuing whatever he was saying to Raven.
Clarke made her way through the maze of beds in the dorm, passing a few bunks that had sheets hanging over the lower portion to afford a little privacy. She finally located Harper in a bed toward the back, propped up in the dim light with what looked like a deck of cards, playing solitaire on the neatly made sheets.
"Harper," Clarke said as she approached.
The girl looked up and smiled at her, "Hey Clarke. How ya feeling?"
Clarke shrugged. "I haven't made up my mind yet," she answered.
Harper nodded. "I feel ya on that one."
"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?" Clarke asked, taking a seat on the floor next to the bed so as not to disrupt the cards.
"You gonna ask me if Murphy hurt me?" she asked. "Because I think everybody's asked me that once or twice already."
Clarke could feel a knot in her throat and was instantly glad she was having this conversation rather than Bellamy. "And did he?"
Harper sighed and shook her head, gathering up the cards. She gestured for Clarke to come up and sit on the bed with her and Clarke took her up on that. The concrete floor wasn't particularly comfortable.
"After the monitor finished playing, Murphy just kind of sat in the corner with his face in his hands," Harper said. "And when the gas started, well. He just started pacing and grumbling to himself. I'm a little ashamed to admit that the gas did a number on me. I just watched him walkin' back and forth and I stopped seeing Murphy and just started seeing this guy with really deep eyes and clean fingernails and nice neck muscles. It was…weird."
Clarke could understand exactly what she'd gone through on that point.
"And then, I shit you not, Clarke. And then he turned to me and said, 'I have never put my hands on a girl that didn't want it.' Just like that, he said. With tears in his eyes and everything. He said, 'I've done some bad shit in my life but I have never touched a girl when she didn't want it. I swear.' It killed me Clarke because I know what kind of person he is and I still believed him."
Clarke was about to interject but Harper kept talking.
"I mean, I remember when he was a kid. He lived with his mom just two units down from me and my mom. His dad had already been floated and his mom was always drunk. He came by and asked my mom for some extra rations one night but we didn't have any. My mom was always swiping mine for 'shine, too. I didn't keep track of him too much after that, to be honest. I went to working for Nygel, nicking stuff to trade for rations. That's how I ended up here."
She took a breath and leaned back against the wall. "I felt sorry for him. The gas was hurting me so bad and he looked so sad and attractive and I just broke, told him I did want it just to make that damn burning sensation go away. I mean, it was quick or whatever, but he didn't hurt me. And he didn't touch me again after that. I pissed in the cup the next morning and we were in here by lunch. I don't think he's said two words to me since."
Clarke took a moment to process the information. "Do you trust him?"
"Hell no."
"Do you think he's a danger to the rest of us?"
Harper had to think about that one. "I don't think he's gonna hurt any girls. I got the impression he doesn't like to hurt girls."
Clarke would have to disagree on that point, remembering clearly what it had felt like to have Murphy's arm around her body and his knife to her neck. She remembered that he'd shot Raven, who was most certainly a girl. And she shuddered to think of what he might have done to Charlotte, had he caught her. But Harper seemed firm in her declaration and Clarke didn't try to change her mind.
"Look," Clarke started. "If we find a way to get out of here, do you want out?"
"And have a baby in the woods?"
Clarke sighed. "Yeah."
"No medicine? Probably no food. And possibly with Grounders on us?"
"You're making it out to be a really bad idea."
Harper laughed. "Look, if you and Bellamy think we'd be better off out there than in here, you gotta know something I don't. And honestly, that's usually the case. So if you have a way out and say we need to go, I'll go."
"Really?" Clarke asked, her eyebrows raised. "Just like that?"
Harper shrugged. "Since we been on the ground, we've all just had each other, you know? It'd be hard to turn away from that, even in the face of danger."
Clarke nodded. She certainly understood that sentiment. She was going to expand on that idea when her train of thought was stopped by the sight of Bellamy wandering through the beds, either looking for her or looking for Murphy. She wasn't sure which. She bid Harper a hasty farewell, deciding that she should tell Bellamy what she'd learned before he decided to do anything that couldn't be undone.
When he saw her walking toward her, he smiled a little and Clarke felt her heart stutter.
She grabbed his hand and ignored how her mouth went dry as she led him to one of the empty bunk beds. She pulled down the sheet from the upper bunk and held it back, gesturing for him to get in.
"Well, Princess," he said in a mocking tone. "What will the children think?"
She rolled her eyes as he did as she asked, following behind him.
She'd meant for him to just sit on the bunk. The curtain had only been so that they could talk without fear of the camera watching their every word. But he'd laid down against the pillows with his hands behind his head, leaving her enough space to lay beside him. It looked incredibly inviting.
Clarke hesitated for only a second before joining him. The bed was small, meant for one person, so she scooted close to him. Her side was against his and his arm was in the way. Without a word, he moved it, tucking it under the pillow and her head. She settled down and sighed. She had only been a day without his proximity and hadn't realized how much she'd missed it already.
They quietly swapped their news, Clarke relating what she'd heard from Harper and Bellamy telling her Raven's thoughts on the exhaust fan and how it wasn't likely to be a problem.
After which Clarke yawned loudly, surprising herself at how sleepy she was. She hadn't been that tired before she'd laid down but having gotten still, she couldn't argue with how nice it would be to take a nap while they waited for dinner.
"There's nothing else we can do right now," he said as she yawned a second time. "You should just sleep."
"And what are you going to do?" she asked, feeling her eyelids already drooping.
She could feel him shrug.
"Probably just lay here. Think about the Murphy stuff."
"Ugh," Clarke said, turning away from him to get comfortable on her side. "I don't I want you thinking about Murphy while you're in bed with me."
Bellamy rolled toward her. There was still a few inches between them, as if he was asking her if it was okay to be so close. Clarke answered by leaning back into him and she could feel him relax at the contact.
"What would you rather have me think about?" he asked. The question was simple enough but somehow, with his body molded around hers and his whispering voice so close to her neck, it felt more intimate than he'd probably meant.
"I'd rather you think about something happy," she finally said lamely, having no idea how to answer his question.
He huffed softly, stirring her hair. He didn't say anything else. The quiet whispers of their people in neighboring beds, his steady breathing behind her, the warmth she felt in their little enclosure…it was too much for her and she slipped into sleep more easily than she had done in a long time. It was so easy that she never even noticed grabbing his free hand and pulling his arm around her, tucking his fingers beneath her chin as she drifted off.
"Still waters runs deep. Why do you always hide from me? How do you keep all your troubles underneath?"
Jasmine Thompson "Drop Your Guard"