Love and Survival in a Post-Apocalyptic, Irradiated World

Summary: A collection (100!) of Drabbles – each 100 words long, unless otherwise noted and featuring but not limited to Bellarke. Will not be in order of the series. Chapter 3: scattered, cruel, decay, memorize


9. Scattered

"What are you doing, Monty?" Jasper's eyes are buggy because he totally knows what Monty's doing.

"Packing up some Jobi nuts – can you imagine? When the next batch of moonshine is ready?"

Images of Grounders burst unbidden into Jasper's vision and he clumsily walks further into the tent, knocking the table and causing the Jobi nuts to fall to the muddy floor.

Monty's mouth hangs open as he looks forlornly at the scattered treats and he understands immediately. "It's okay, Jasper," he says, laying a comforting hand on his buddy's arm. "Just moonshine, next time, okay?"

Jasper smiles, relieved.

10. Cruel (300 words)

Clarke thinks the poor girl in front of her is possibly the third (or is it fifth?) – delinquent she's yelled at. Though the looks she's getting from Raven and Octavia tell her she screamed instead of yelled at her previous string of victims.

But she can't help it. So what if she's being cruel.

Out of the remaining eighty-seven or so of them left, only a handful give a fuck and she clearly knows who they are.

But the rest? God, she so needs them to get their shit together.

Apathetic, unmotivated (even though their very survival is at stake), inattentive, unthinking and ill prepared. (That last one she can't blame for, really.)

The thing is, she and Bellamy have their hands full, the thought of telling them about the most mundane things – no, drinking Monty's moonshine is not going to help you stay up all night for guard duty! and no, eating the red berries off of the bushes on the south side of camp is bad idea, haven't you seen the dead rodents underneath those very same bushes? – it's enough to cause her to want to pull her hair out.

She knows they're just kids.

She's just a kid, too.

But, as Clarke looks at the girl in front of her, too afraid to move lest she yell at her again, Clarke realizes that this is just her fate. She gently squeezes the girl's – Rachel's – shoulder, and starts bandaging the self-inflicted-because-she-was-too-busy-gossiping-cut-on-her-hand and manages what she thinks is a reassuring smile.

She is the responsible one.

Sucks to be her. Followers, follow. Doers, do.

Good thing Bellamy is responsible too. Even if it's by default because he's older and because of Octavia.

At least she can find some comfort in that she's not alone.

11. Decay

Clarke involuntarily gags at the smell of decay assaulting her senses. The smell of rotting flesh is new because up on the Ark, they never had to deal with anything like this.

They just floated it – anything and everything – pushed it into an airlock and jettisoned the offending item (or person) into the blackness of space.

"Gross," Miller breathes out next to her. Sometimes exploring their new world held surprises of a different, happier, kind. This time unfortunately, as she and Miller back away from the corpse of a heavily disfigured bear, is clearly not one of them.

12. Memorize (200 words)

Clarke thinks she can do it.

In fact, she knows she can.

She just needs to get her sketchbook and one of those pencils that Finn gave her from the shelter all those months ago. Gazing down at Bellamy's sleeping face and pushing the dark curls on his forehead back, she knows – she could totally map his freckles.

From the ones sprinkled sparsely across his forehead, to the bit on the bridge of his nose, to the smattering covering his cheeks and across to the handful above his upper lip, tucked against the bow of his lips and finally to the speck dotting his chin.

But Clarke can't leave now.

Bellamy still hasn't woken. After operating on him for most of yesterday morning to remove the arrows (yes, plural) from his midsection and an uncharacteristically restful, uncomplicated and easy night, she admits she doesn't want to leave his side.

She hasn't ever, so she wasn't about to start now.

Besides Clarke reasons, as she notes the healthy coloring in his features and his even, normal breathing with a warmth and sense of relief. She doesn't really need her sketchbook to map his freckles. She's already kind of memorized them.