Summary: Non-canon, Drama/Romance, hopefully with some Action/Adevnture thrown in. Bellarke, Linctavia and probably more once I get going. :D
Rated M – for adult themes.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing The 100, not for profit!
The Homestead
Chapter 5 – Bellamy.
The rest of the evening passed in a blissful blur for Bellamy.
His eyes danced and his face locked into a wide smile that lasted the entire night.
"I'm going to be an Uncle," he said in his head over and over until he was drunk on the idea of it.
When Octavia had told him the news outside the clinic, a million things raced through his mind. At first his heart was impaled with exultation – his sister, his little O - the very person who had brought him to Earth, was nurturing a tiny life inside her. A life she had created with the man she loved.
His second thought was that Octavia and Lincoln were not wed. On the Ark, conception out of wedlock was a floatable offence. Within an instant his heart hardened and his eyes glowered at Abby. All the old emotions rose up to the surface again and he felt as if he were back in the sky. He stepped protectively to Octavia's side with an animosity he thought he had buried. Everything he'd done for his sister would be for nothing if it came to…
"Bellamy!" Octavia yelled, smacking both her clenched fists hard across his aggression inflated chest. "What is it with you two?" She glared at both Lincoln and her brother, throwing up her hands in bewilderment and stomping off into the shadows. Lincoln followed.
"If you're worried about the consequences of this pregnancy, Bellamy - don't be." Abby knew his backstory enough to get a sense of where his hostility was coming from. "We're not on the Ark anymore. Things are different down here." She took his arm. "You know that."
Bellamy nodded and shot Abby a guilty look out the side of his eyes. He couldn't say what had come over him. Just old instincts, he guessed. They were always there, and had been since the day Octavia was born. He imagined they would be a part of him forever. He just hoped he'd have better control of them one day.
Being at the homestead had helped. There was something about doing honest work, amongst nature, with the people he cared about, that helped him connect with his sense of identity. Since being out there, Bellamy had realised the single most important thing he would probably ever learn about himself.
His emotions were his Achilles heel.
Slumped in his seat by the bar at Camp Arkadia, Bellamy stared into his almost empty drink – his earlier conversation with Kane and Abby swirling through his strewn thoughts.
He shook his head and scoffed to himself at their idea. It would never work. How could it? His nose began to bleed and he sniffed - blood hitting the back of his throat creating a salty distaste on his tongue.
How had everything become so unclear, he contemplated?
Clarke.
That's how.
Bellamy squinted in agony at the thought of her, squeezing his temples and cradling his forehead with his hands.
The woman simply confused him.
All those things she'd told him when he was in the coma, thinking that he couldn't hear. Then there was her decision to accept Roan's offer of a union, followed by the attempt on her life and her refusal, once again, to come home to Arkadia.
Now she was "acting" commander. Whatever that meant.
According to Kane and Abby it meant peace, and peace meant an opportunity to start building something better here on Earth.
He had to admit, things were a lot quieter on the Grounder front. Whatever turmoil was taking place it was mostly political. He hadn't fired his weapon in weeks, well, not his automatic weapon anyway.
Bellamy looked up with his half closed eyes and saw Raven scowling at him from a few metres away. He scowled right back.
It struck him, as he scanned the busy bar, that it was mostly populated with his people. Not his people as in Skaikru, but his people, as in the remainder of the original 100. Monty, Jasper, Monroe, Miller and Murphy – to name just a few.
He thought of something Abby had said earlier about them all suffering post-traumatic stress disorder, and wiped his bleeding nose with the back of his hand. Maybe she was right. Maybe they were all screwed up. And maybe, just maybe, their "little home on the prairie" idea might be just what his friends needed to quell the chaos.
He finished his drink and shoved the chair out from behind him.
Right now, however, there was only one thing he knew that would clear his mind of Clarke.
"What's gotten into him?" Monty nudged Jasper and made eyes at Bellamy who was leaning against the veranda door frame, surveying the festive activity inside with his arms crossed casually and a look of utter contentment on his face.
"Who knows," Jasper shrugged. "Maybe he finally got laid."
Monty raised his eyebrows in disapproval and took another look at Bellamy standing in the doorway.
It was true the man had not been up to his usual antics. He was a lot calmer, more in control. They could all see it.
"No, it's something else," he said. "He's been kinda weird for a while now."
"Yeah, since the solstice festival," Jasper agreed, shovelling in another bread roll.
"What happened at the solstice festival?" Monty couldn't remember that far back. He'd been busy in the last four months, as most of the medicinal plants he and Nyko were growing hydroponically had come into flower during summer.
Jasper rolled his eyes at his friend's cluelessness and spoke through a mouthful of flour. "Clarke showed up!"
"Ohhh" Monty cried as the realisation hit him. "You mean - The Commander."
"Pfft," Jasper smiled. "She's just plain ol' Clarke to me."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope this chapter is not too confusing in the flashback scene, hopefully it will make sense later as I slowly reveal more of the backstory. I would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far. Is this new, more introverted Bellamy believable? I'd like to think so.