Authors Note: Things will be getting darker from here on out. McCreary in my head is probably a real piece of work. So, swearing and some dicey situations will be coming into play from this chapter onwards.
Clarke was flustered as she watched Octavia's people set McCreary up in what seemed to be a disused storage room, her brief chat with Bellamy playing through her mind. She tried to focus on the situation in front of her but there wasn't much to oversee; as the group of men tasked with securing McCreary seemed to relish the opportunity to manhandle someone outside of Wonkru. They shoved their new prisoner each time he struggled against his restraints, locking metal cuffs to his wrists and securing him to a sturdy pipe on the far side of the wall.
Clarke noticed there were no cameras or radios in the room; but the structure was sturdy enough, even as McCreary pulled against it with all his might. It did nothing but give his guards another reason to push him to the ground. This time when he got up, he seemed to shake of some of his aggression, choosing instead to survey those in the room aggressively. Including her.
"What a surprise to see you here, beautiful," he sneered. She glared back at him as he dragged his eyes along her body, before shifting his attention to the others in the room. At the same time, several men shuffled out the door before Octavia swept in, trailed by Indra and Cooper. Moments after her, Bellamy and Monty followed, and Clarke could faintly hear Murphy outside, snarking at the men who had taken McCreary off his and Emori's hands.
Bellamy caught her eye, and she quickly turned her head back to McCreary, surprised to see him watching her intently. Whatever he saw made him smile leeringly, and Clarke returned his stare blankly, confused by the attention.
Octavia approached McCreary, swiftly landing a blow to his stomach, smiling as he doubled over in obvious pain, knees planting on the ground. She grabbed at his hair, pulling his head back and snarling in his face.
"I hope you'll have many secrets to share with us," she stage-whispered, almost conspiratorially. "Otherwise I'm sure we'll find much sport in using you for target practice." She shoved his head as she straightened, turning to leave the room. Her voice boomed as she exited, "leave him here to stew. No food or water. Either he talks, or he dies"
From his place on the ground, McCreary met Clarke's eyes again, holding her gaze as the others left the room. Realising that Bellamy was lingering in the room with them, Clarke made a hasty retreat, hardly taking a second to acknowledge him as she barreled through the door and back through the hallways to Madi. On her way out she encountered Octavia in talks with Cooper, and she slowed her pace to overhear them.
"He's of no use to us," Cooper warned. "We know that Diyoza seeks to destroy Wonkru. There is nothing he can tell us. And what can we bargain him for? Any negotiation will make us look weak to your people. We should string him up, let the people know what we do to our enemies."
Octavia was silent for a moment, regarding Cooper, and then locking eyes with Clarke as she slowly approached them. The seconds stretched while the two considered each other, Clarke unable to discern what the other was thinking.
"Clarke," she begun. "You spent some time amongst those men. Do you think he'll be any good to us?"
Clarke stopped walking. Looking between the two women and contemplating her answer.
"It depends," she answered honestly. "Diyoza seemed intent on keeping her people alive when Bellamy was using them as hostages. It stands to reason she'd have some reluctance in seeing him killed. So at the very least, holding him might be a deterrent for any aerial attacks." Octavia's eyebrows lifted at that, and Clarke was glad she seemed to be open to reason. She continued, "and we might be able to get a sense of the dynamic between Diyoza and her people. Maybe even find out how they're using Kane and my mother."
Octavia shifted her eyes to Cooper at the mention of Kane and Abby, and her countenance shifted.
"6 hours," she suggested to Cooper. "Why not play with our food for a little while. See if Clarke's right and there's anything at all we can use him for. After that he's yours to do with what you like." She finished offhandedly.
She met Clarke's eyes again, challenging her to question the woman's decision. Clarke chose to clench her jaw instead, refusing to look away from the younger woman's glare.
After finding Madi, they both decided to get some air, exiting the bunker to take stock of the rover. She'd left Madi perched on the hood with some books to read while she checked over some of their supplies in the trunk. She was halfway through reassembling her rifle when she heard heavy footfalls crunching against the stones behind her. She was reluctant to turn around, thinking of the only person who she had any unfinished business with inside the bunker. She turned slowly anyway, rifle still in her hands, to see Bellamy frowning softly at her.
"We never finished our chat in there," He started, and Clarke resisted the urge to scoff. Turning back to complete the task in front of her
"Is that what that was?" She questioned instead, trying to keep her tone light. She focused on screwing the muzzle on carefully, appreciating the cool metal under her fingers.
"I didn't say it was a good chat," he returned. He closed some of the distance between them, leaning against the rover and watching over her work. They stood there in silence for a while. Clarke tried not to tense up too greatly, unused to such a large presence near her after so long. It was something she was going to have to relearn. After only a little while she felt her nerves settle slightly, but her body was still singing at the sensation of him so close to her side.
She set the rifle down and grabbed at a canister, surprised to find it shut too tightly for her to open. She brought it close to her chest and strained for a moment, huffing in annoyance. She heard a soft laugh from Bellamy before he was moving to grab it from her, his hand skimming along her the bare skin of her chest where her jacket had gaped open. His hand closed around the canister, brushing against her fingers as he did, and Clarke felt her skin burn from the contact. Her cheeks flushed immediately and she withdrew her hands quickly, moving to collect some gauze absentmindedly while she saw him work at opening the canister in her periphery.
"Sorry," he said, and she wondered if he noticed her reaction. "We weren't sure where you kept your bullets so we rifled back here before we came to get you. I must have a been a bit too overzealous in sealing this," He laughed. Clarke gave a half hearted chuckle back as her shoulders sagged, taking the canister back from him once it was open. Again their fingers touched and she tried not to suck in a breath at the warm sensation of his skin against hers.
It was ridiculous to be this easily flustered, but she attributed it to the six years she'd spent with almost no physical comfort. To be touched by anyone remotely attractive would cause the same reaction, she reassured herself. She directed a small smile his way, deciding to focus on the task at hand again.
"Two days back and you're already messing with my stuff," she grumbled, shoving the extra gauze into the canister. She put some more distance between them by leaning against the other side of the rover's door, resting her weight on her hip and reaching across herself to grab at a pack she'd previously stocked. She looked up at him while unfastening the bag and caught him scratching the back of his neck absentmindedly.
"Well technically," he gambled, smiling. "It used to be my rover. So, it's really kind of our stuff in a way," he gestured between them. She sent him a dubious look, forgetting her initial discomfort at his company. Falling back into a familiar, playful antagonism with him.
"That's how you're playing it?" She asked, forgetting about the bag momentarily. "I dug this rover out from the rubble with my bare hands, kept it in working condition for the past six years, and you want to get all territorial over it?" she challenged, not sure if she expected him to argue back. "I think I earnt ownership rights."
Instead of grumbling like she thought he would, his smile widened; and she found herself crowded against the rover as he leant towards her, towering over her as she brought the bag up reflexively between them.
"Maybe," he conceded. "But if all I need to do is screw caps, and tie ropes, too tightly; you're going to have a one hell of a fight on your hands," he laughed, seeming completely amused by the concept. Clarke blinked owlishly at his response, floored by his smile and laughter when minutes ago the thought of him had her almost in tears. It was strange for Clarke to see him this playful. Especially when only hours ago he'd looked ready to pull his hair out from stress.
Maybe that's what she was to him right now, she contemplated, a distraction from everything else going on around him. The thought overtook her brain, even as she struggled to move or say anything. He was still crowded closely to her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. And his eyes were still sparkling at her with that infuriating smirk of his when she felt him move closer, almost imperceptibly. But his chest was brushing up against the backs of her fingers when she was sure a moment ago she'd only felt the air between them. She saw the smirk drop from his face and she swallowed, suddenly very nervous…
There was a clamoring towards the front of the rover that shook them free of whatever moment they had found themselves in. Bellamy scratched at the back of his neck and retreated to lean back against the door away from her, and she went back to checking through her bag almost furiously, glancing through the rover to see Madi staring curiously at her through the windshield. Clarke was sure then that she was blushing, feeling the heat crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. So, she changed the topic.
"Did Octavia give you her six-hour deadline on McCreary? Have you had a chance to talk to him?" she asked, sobering as she continued to distract herself with the bag's contents. She felt Bellamy's eyes on her but refused to look up this time.
"Yeah. We were in the room when that information was shared with him." Out of the corner of her eye she saw him crossing his arms over his chest, a telltale sign that he was back in leader mode, trying to figure out moves like he was playing a chess match. She was almost disappointed to see the playful smile on his face disappear, but it seemed far safer for her frayed nerves.
"He didn't seem too open to talking though," Bellamy bristled. "Cooper kicked us out not too long after that. Haven't had a chance to get back in there yet." Clarke looked up at him then, contemplating the situation. She wondered if McCreary would be receptive to her at all. He caught her look and asked, "you got anything up your sleeve princess?"
Her brow crinkled at the moniker, and she shook her head slightly.
"Keeping him here only works in our favour if he's got a reason to share intel. If we can work a wedge between him and Diyoza, make it seem like she's abandoned him somehow… He might be willing to shift alliances," she shrugged. "Maybe."
"That's a big maybe," Bellamy returned. The looked at each other a moment longer. Wheels turning in both their heads. Then a yell from Monty had Bellamy turning to search for him. The man was waving at them from a block away, and he jogged the rest of the way to meet them.
"Hey guys, got some good news!" He smiled at them. "We don't have a way in to their system just yet, but I got some code across the radio that seems to be from Raven and Echo. It just said, 'Working on it,' and was signed off R and E," Monty finished, looking between the two of them with a relieved smie. Clarke watched as Bellamy shifted on his feet, seeming to relax and stiffen at the same time.
"That's great news Monty." Bellamy clapped him on the back, giving him a strained smile. "I'm going to talk to my sister. See if we can get some time with our new prisoner." He nodded at Clarke and turned to head back down to the bunker. Monty waited a second longer to smile at her before heading off to follow him.
After the strange confession from Clarke earlier that morning, her words had been burning circles in his brain. 'You don't owe me anything' she'd said, like there was something she wanted from him but couldn't get, or something she expected, but hadn't received. His head was spinning at the concept, mind immediately going to places it shouldn't. Thinking of the vulnerable looks she'd sent his way in the past, the way her eyes sometimes tripped down to his lips when they were close.
But he'd spent the last six years doing his best not to think about her like that, so he pushed the thoughts as far to the back of his mind as possible, hoping against hope that they'd fall out of his head entirely by the time he saw her again. He had other things to worry about. Like Echo, he reminded himself, feeling immediately guilty.
Monty found him as he was following the small crowd converging on McCreary's location in the bunker. The man gave him a long look, as if to say, 'it's done', and Bellamy nodded sternly at him in reply. They passed Murphy snarking at some of the Wonkru men, and Bellamy found a smile crossing his face as the man sent a nod his way, a snarking Murphy was a content Murphy after all. They reached the locker room shuffling in after Octavia, and Bellamy's eyes immediately caught Clarke's.
'You don't owe me anything,' her words flashed through his mind again, and he found himself frowning at her when she broke eye contact with him to focus on McCreary. Bellamy looked over too, and he was disconcerted by the smile he saw the man directing her way. Lecherous only begun to describe the man's gaze. Seconds later Octavia's presence was flooding the room as she punched the man and began to threaten him. Again, Bellamy noticed McCreary's gaze focusing on Clarke, and it made his skin crawl, fists clenching at his sides.
Octavia swept out of the room moments later, leaving Miller and another grounder to watch over the prisoner. Bellamy lingered with Monty, sharing another look with him that had Monty shaking his head in reply. Then Clarke was barreling past him, giving him a brief nod and strained smile as she made her way out of the room. He looked over at McCreary, back on his feet and tugging at his restraints against the metal piping of the room. He caught Bellamy's eyes and smiled, walking forward until his chains pulled taut.
"Pretty girl," was all he said nodding towards the empty doorway. Despite the other men in the room, Bellamy found himself approaching the prisoner, sizing him up through a glare. He stopped just outside the man's reach, gaze hardened, and mouth set in a sneer. McCreary's leer only widened in amusement as he edged his face closer to Bellamy's.
"Bet you never took the chance to fuck her," the man whispered conspiratorially into Bellamy's ear. "Before you left her here all on her lonesome," he continued, words dripping with faux sympathy. He backed off and huffed a laugh, rolling his shoulders and sneering again, voice louder. "Bet she'd welcome a warm touch from just about anyone now. Might have to offer my services?" He suggested.
Bellamy struck out without thinking, fist connecting with McCreary's cheek and sending him back against the wall. Then he was grabbing the man by the front of his coveralls, snarling at the man.
"Don't you fucking touch her," he threatened, and McCreary just smiled in response as Miller and the other grounders began to forcibly separate them, shoving Bellamy from the room.
He heard a laugh from the man as he collected himself in the hallway, readjusting his jacket as Monty approached him with a worried look.
"What did he say to get you riled up like that?" Monty queried, as Murphy sidled up to join them. "Octavia can handle herself. The protective big brother deal doesn't make a lot of sense when your sister is like the toughest person in the world," he continued, and Bellamy was silently thankful that he'd read the situation incorrectly. He still fumed though, watching as Monty glanced surreptitiously around them, making sure they were alone. Satisfied, he reached into his pocket, grabbing a handful of devices and passing them along to Bellamy. He eyed them quickly in his open palm before handling them further. The small earbud he shoved into his ear immediately, not questioning its purpose. The small disc and slightly larger plastic box he continued to hold out, and Monty pointed at both in quick succession.
"The disc, you'll need to place somewhere in the room, as close to McCreary as possible while still being discreet." Monty pointed at the box. "That's the receiver, keep it in your pocket and you'll be able to hear the room from almost anywhere in the bunker, or up top in the ruins. It's got a range of 500m. Battery life is so-so, but we won't need to swap them out for at least 24 hours."
Bellamy shoved the devices in his pockets, clapping Monty on the back with a smile. He was about to ask Murphy how he was holding up when Cooper came storming back into the hallway. She barely spared them a glance before making her way back into the room, and Bellamy dismissed the two other men with a nod before following her in.
"You've been given six hours," she delivered loftily, focused on the chained man in front of her. McCreary looked somewhat bored, surveying the room and the eyes trained on him. Bellamy took the chance to move quietly to a small table that had been pushed against the wall, settling his back against it and securing the small disc from his pocket onto its underside. Bellamy was watching Cooper and the guards intently, and didn't notice McCreary's regarding him carefully from the corner of his eye. Cooper continued, "if we don't hear from Diyoza or receive any intel we deem useful, we'll dispose of you. So, you might want to think very carefully about how you wish to spend your remaining hours on this earth."
"Good to know," was all she got back from McCreary. Cooper turned and noticed Bellamy, who was now leaning against the table with his arms crossed. She gave him a pointed look and he moved from the table, walking out of the room in front of her. He shoved his hand into his pocket and fingered the receiver, switching it on discretely. The bud in his ear crackled to life, and he heard an echo of his footsteps as he entered the hallway and the faint shuffling of feet and scrapping of material on concrete that probably signified McCreary settling back against the wall as the door shut and locked behind them.
Bellamy made his way outside not long after that, spotting Clarke and Madi around the rover. He made his way over, half listening to the bud in his ear, half consumed by the words from Clarke and McCreary that were still spinning around in his head.
Clarke paused from her work on a rifle to look at him and Bellamy said the first thing that came to mind.
"We never finished our chat in there," He started, and he watched as Clarke scoffed lightly at him, her eyes rolling slightly as she leant back over her rifle.
"Is that what that was?" She questioned, and Bellamy found himself distracted enough by watching her to speak without thinking.
"I didn't say it was a good chat," he returned blithely. He closed some of the distance between them, leaning against the rover and watching over her work. He became pre-occupied watching her hands as she moved, thinking over McCreary's words again. About welcoming a warm touch. He hadn't let himself think of that before, how physically lonely the six years must have been for her. Now all he could think about was the way she'd reacted to his embrace that first night he was back, or the way she'd touched his arm to comfort him in the last few hours. Had she touched anyone else like that? He wondered.
He watched as she grabbed at a canister, looking on as her eyes widened and she brought it close to her chest, straining and huffing in an attempt to open it. Bellamy laughed and moved to grab it without thinking. He felt the back of his hand skimming against her bare skin and he fought not to react to the sensation, willing his brain and his body to keep moving. His hand closed around the canister and he felt his fingers brush against hers. His lips pursed, but luckily Clarke wasn't watching his face, and he noticed her cheeks flush as she dropped her hands from the canister to collect some gauze laying on the floor of the rover.
"Sorry," he said, but he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. He hadn't meant to take her by surprise, but he was secretly thrilled by the flush that had overtaken her cheeks at this touch. He said none of this. Instead, he forced a laugh.
"We weren't sure where you kept your bullets, so we rifled back here before we came to get you. I must have a been a bit too overzealous in sealing this," Clarke gave a halfhearted chuckle back as her shoulders sagged, and he passed the canister back to her, making sure that their fingers brushed again. He watched in fascination at her reaction to his touch and found himself eager to see what other reactions he could pull from her.
"Two days back and you're already messing with my stuff," she grumbled. And with that he felt himself pulled back into a strangely familiar game with her. The retort falling from his lips without him thinking about it, the playful way he crowded her space; it all came back to him like breathing after six years in a vacuum.
All the while he catalogued her reactions to him, the way she'd frown and pout, her eyes betraying the warmth she felt at his banter. He noticed, and ignored, the way she pulled the bag she was holding between them as he leant closer, focusing instead on the way her eyes widened owlishly, her lips parting. He moved closer at that, drawn to the warm breath puffing gently across his face as she seemed to struggle for something to say.
He felt her fingers brushing against his chest, felt as they tensed around the bag she was still holding between them. Then there was a loud metallic clamour from the front of the rover and Bellamy's brain suddenly kicked back into gear again. He moved back, scratching his neck as he leant back against the rover. He absentmindedly watched as a blush took over her cheeks, annoyed with how happy the sight made him.
The conversation turned to McCreary and Bellamy sobered further, discussing the possibility of gaining intel from the man.
Then Monty was running towards them, sharing news of Echo and Raven, and Bellamy was kicking himself for how distracted he'd let himself become, how consumed he'd just been with Clarke's presence. Echo was literally in the firing line trying to help them, and he'd instead become fascinated with making another girl blush. He was a fucking asshole. He noticed Clarke watching him out of the corner of his eye and felt his body fighting against itself at her gaze, heating with nervousness and shame all at the same time.
He excused himself with some half thought out plan of action, making his way to the bunker with Monty close on his heels. He offered to take over in front of the computer, giving the other man a chance to catch up with Harper, maybe grab something to eat for them both.
That's where he found himself half an hour later, watching the screen intently, his gut still swirling with anxiety and shame. He was only half paying attention to the device in his ear when he heard the creaking of a door crackling through the earpiece. His attention sharpened at the sound of the door closing again, he heard light shuffling of feet against concrete as someone moved through the room, and the soft voice of the girl Bellamy was desperately trying not to think about.
"We need to talk"
Reviews and feedback more than welcome... Heartily encouraged actually.