Hiiii so how is everyone doing? I hope everyone reading this had an amazing Christmas. Just the little old author saying hi to everyone. So Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and to any at any point in time: Happy Birthday! ... I need a life... Greys Anatomy HAS TAKEN OVER MY LIFE! IM NOT KIDDING HERE!
anyway hope everyone had a wonderful day ;)
Never before had the world seemed so peaceful, so at ease.
In a ridge pressed against a mountain was where Abby and proclaimed that they sent camp. It was far enough away from Mount Weather that they could watch the flames devour the rest of the Mountain Men base, but not so close as to be worried about the fire spreading.
Abby had set up medical tents to check over all the kids that had been in held in the mountain. Clarke had stayed up for nearly the whole night treating burns and gunshots.
The sound of his voice made her jump. She hadn't talked to anyone other her mom since the attack on mount weather, too busy tending to the wounded and dying.
Bellamy came up behind her and stood beside her. He didn't want to have to tell her what he heard. The only problem was it was ether he tells her or she finds out the hard way.
"The Grounders are planning an attack on the mountain men who survive," Bellamy commanded. Clarke noticed his voice was rough and wonders how much sleep he got that night, if any.
"There aren't going to be any survivors," Clarke answered. Nothing in her expression changed. She simply stood watch the still burning flames lick their way up into the dawn sky.
"What if there are?"
Clarke turned towards him. The fire reflected in eyes." We killed them all Bellamy. No one is walking out of there alive. We killed all the Mountain Men!"
Bellamy held in his hiss. "Clarke this is not your fault!"
"What if it is," she yelled well past the point of calm. Screw the ground. We killed every last one of them without mercy
"I made the treaty with the Grounders," she said refraining from bring up Finn.
"Their Grounders, they kill without mercy that's what they do!"
"It's not human, Bellamy."
Bellamy huffed. "This is what it does, this is what surviving means. If we hadn't killed them they would have killed us."
Clarke glanced down at the frosted ground. He was right and she knew it, she just didn't want to admit it. "I should have tried harder," she mumbled not making sense of her own words.
Bellamy looked at her like she was a price of glass ready to break. Maybe she was, maybe she already had. "What are you talking about Clarke?"
"I should have tried to get them out," she muttered thinking back to when she and Nadia had escaped. "I should have forced them to come. Why didn't I save some of them when I could-."
"Clarke," Bellamy grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me." He waited until Clarke looked up at him. Her breath hitches in her throat and she sounded winded. Even though the air outside was so cold she looked warm, hot even.
"We saved who we could. You and your mom saved so many more Clarke. We saved our people; okay we did it to survive."
She shook her head. "But that's all we are doing, surviving."
Sweat broke out on her forehead and her legs became shaky. No I'm not getting sick, she thought.
"Clarke?" Bellamy's voice changed from commanding to caring in a matter of three seconds. It was amazing how much love that boy had for the ones he cared about.
Clarke smiled warmly and looked back up at him. His black jet was ruffled every which way and a leaf was stuck behind his ear.
"Clarke I'm taking you to your mom okay?" Bellamy gently took her arm trying to nudge her down the hill and back to camp.
"No, no, no, please Bellamy don't make me go back there. Not yet," Clarke whimpered. What was wrong with me, she wondered.
Bellamy's heart broke at the girl in front of him, the girl who was so damaged and broken and was falling apart. "Clarke please, you're getting sick out here."
"Bellamy just leave me alone," Clarke wanted to scream. Just as she wanted to her legs gave out. She would have hit the ground if it weren't from Bellamy. He held her upright, clutching at her waist.
"Clarke, Jesus," Bellamy hissed. He pulled up her limp body and tugged her to his chest. "I'm going to carry you okay?"
Clarke didn't answer. She just kept thinking about all those dead bodies she had seen in the hallways of Mount Weather. All the blood. The flames.
He scooped her up bridal style and raced down the hill towards the medical tent, muttering swears as he went.
"Abby! Abby," Bellamy yelled. He burst through the tent flaps into the wide expanse. Most were asleep with bandages, but some were awake and groaning at his sudden appearance.
"Where's the chancellor!" Bellamy was yelling at people at random.
"What's going o- Clarke!"
Abby sprinted into the tent nearly tripping over a poor kid who was being treated. "What happened to her?"
Bellamy shifted a little and explained how he found Clarke standing out in the snow.
"She must have been out there awhile, okay bring her over here," Abby declared.
She led him though to a connecting tent with an empty bed for Clarke. Bellamy draped her on the make shift bed.
"Can you get me some water," Abby asked adjusting Clarke's head on the bed.
When Clarke came back, Bellamy was sitting next to her make shift bed cleaning a gun with a rag that was even dirtier.
"Hey," she croaked. Her voice was rough and edgy.
Bellamy's eyes shot up to her face. He hand completely forgotten about the task in hand. "How are you feeling," he asked. The gun he was cleaning was placed on the bed next to Clarke.
Clarke muttered, "Awesome!"
Bellamy let out a laugh which covered up his sigh of relief. "You know your mom was really worried about you," he said.
Clarke's eyes softened a little. "What about you? Were you worried about me, "her voice was a whisper."
Abby pushed back the curtain to Clarke's little space. "You're awake."
Bellamy jerked back in his chair. He hadn't even realized that he had been leaning closer to her.
Clarke smiled. "Hi," she mumbled.
"Do you remember what happened?" Abby moved to the other side of Clarke's bed. Bellamy had taken an interest in that gun again.
"I carried you back here," Bellamy interrupted. He had stashed the gun in the waist band of his pants and was now cleaning to underside of his fingernails with a knife.
"You told me something about the Grounders didn't you? The attack and-," Clarke started stuttering through her words.
Abby bolted to life gripping Clarke's shoulders urging her to calm down.
"Clarke, Clarke you need to relax okay," Abby shushed her.
"Abby," Bellamy stood up trying to look commanding. He figured he naturally was, but a little effort wouldn't hurt. "Can I speak to Clarke, alone?"
Clarke's eyes darted back and forth, her hands, marked and scared, gripping the blanket. Abby looked at Clarke and seemed to get the sense that if was okay with her because she left with a nod.
Bellamy sat back in the chair and ran a hand through his curly hair.
"You remember everything Clarke," he muttered more as a question but it sounded like a statement.
"Of course I do," Clarke scoffed. "Bellamy," her voice turned commanding again. "We should start moving out camp."
Bellamy nearly laughed. "Are you serious, Clarke you need to rest."
"I'm fine," she muttered sitting up in the bed.
"You're unbelievable," Bellamy mumbled. "Do what you want princess, I'm too tired to keep up with you."
Bellamy stormed out of the tent leaving Clarke left on the bed in shock.
That wasn't Clarke, he thought. That Clarke that he left back there wasn't the strong brave girl he knew. Then the thought hit him, what if it.
Bellamy walked through the whole camp until he found Octavia with Lincoln. He hadn't been badly hurt in the fight, but Octavia suffered a nasty blow to the head.
"Bellamy," Octavia ran up and hugged before he had a chance to turn back. Don't get him wrong, Bellamy lived his sister, but he was not in the mood to see any sort of couples right now.
"I heard about Clarke, what happened to her? Is she okay," Octavia pulled him back to the log where Lincoln was sitting.
"Nothing she's fine," Bellamy muttered.
Octavia smiled, pleased with his answer. "Are you coming to the bonfire tonight?"
"The what?" Bellamy asked. The gun in his back pocket started to rub against his skin when he sat down. Lincoln avoided him and turned his back to continue cleaning his knife.
"Marcus thought it would a good idea, you know as like a celebration of our victory."
All those people we killed, Bellamy thought. He thought of everything Clarke said. Thought of how she blamed herself for everything.
"I don't think I'll go." Bellamy stood up suddenly having no interest at all in visiting with his sister. He walked off without saying another word.
Clarke was sitting around the bonfire with a glass of who knew what in her hand. The liquid smelt like acid and burning going down her throat but she drank most of it anyway.
"Clarke, are you feeling any better?"
She jerked her head up. The smoke from the fire was making her eyes water, but through the blink backed tears she could see Jasper standing in front her.
Jasper! Jasper, who had been tapped in Mount Weather. Jasper who was convinced that they were safe.
No, this wasn't the same Jasper. The last time she saw him his eyes were full of life and he was so energetic. Now there were bags under his eyes and the only emotion his face held was relief. Clarke couldn't place if it was relief from being out or for something deeper. This Jasper was matured. This was the Jasper who had killed three of the mountain men to get out of his cell. And this was the same Jasper who had cried when Mia was killed.
"Hey," Clarke smiled. He pulled her up and into a hug. In the light of the fire everyone could see the needle marks in his neck that his hoodie didn't quite cover.
"How are you," she mumbled. It was a stupid ass question. What could someone say to that?
"A little overwhelmed actually." Jasper tried at a laugh. "You know with the ark coming down and all. Not to mention that," he nudged his head to the mountain where the tip still flamed.
Clarke smiled genuinely. He was alive thou. "We'll figure it out. Where's Monty?"
"Medical tent," Jasper answered immediately. The expression on his face dropped to something of pain and comfort at the same time.
"Hey he'll be fine," Clarke put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get you a drink."
A drink yes, Clarke thought. That's what I need. Her mom had informed her earlier that she wasn't traditionally sick, but the combination of no sleep and the freezing weather did not equal an amazing result. Clarke had slept for another three hours after Bellamy had stormed out of the tent. She hadn't seen him since. She wished she had.
Jasper admired the odd collection of liquor available to drink, some supplied by the Grounders.
As they were walking back to the fire a, hand tapped Clarke's shoulder.
"Can I talk to you," she whispered. Clarke tilted her head to the metal wall of the ark where they would be hidden in the shadows after giving Jasper the look meaning she would find him later.
Once they were in the shadows Octavia's expression completely changed. Panic was written all over her face.
"Have you seen Bellamy," She asked.
Clarke shook her head. Great, she thought, the asshole had gotten himself in some kind of trouble.
"He was," Octavia paused dramatically before continuing. "He was really worried Clarke. About you, Clarke."
"Sure he was," Clarke scoffed even thou she knew it was a stupid thing to say.
"He was! He was all worked up when he came to talk to me." Suddenly Octavia's brown eyes lit up and she nearly bent over laughing. "You really don't know do you?"
Clarke looked dumbstruck, she hated when people said things like that. How could she know about whatever the hell Octavia was talking about? "No, Octavia I don't know. So please do inform me." Clarke huffed and crossed her arms. All the sadness she had felt before was replaced by annoyance.
"You're the princess right," Octavia asked meaning for it to be more of a statement.
"Every princess needs her prince right? Abby's the queen, Marcus is the king. If you're the princess then what does that make Bellamy?"
Octavia laughed and walked away smiling. Clarke let the words sink in. She couldn't really mean that could she? No way did Bellamy...NO! No way on earth would that happen between them.
Clarke drowned her glass in one gulp and went back to the fire. She didn't need this now. She would relax by the fire and visit with old friends. Her job tonight was to worry about the events at mount weather, not her pity feelings over Bellamy.
Bellamy didn't want to join in on the party. He didn't want to celebrate and he knew Clarke didn't ether, but yet there she was. Partying and drinking with everyone else.
He didn't have the patience or the pity to continue watching her dance. Bellamy stormed back into his tent and sat on the make shift bed pulling out a book from under his pillow. The pillow was really just some balled up clothes in a pillow case.
Marcus had told them before everyone entered Mount Weather to not take anything. There could be trackers or God knows what. But what harm could a book be.
Bellamy flipped through the crisp pages skimming the words. The book had a red cover with the title Macbeth with golden leafs surrounding the title.
He barely got through a few pages of the story before he heard the footsteps approaching his tent. Bellamy shoved the book under his pillow before the flap of the tent opened.
His heart clenched at her voice. How did he let this girl take over his life without her knowing?
"What are doing, Clarke?"
She stepped into the tent, light from a lit candle made her face glow a warm orange. "I-."
She didn't even know what to say. Why was she there? What did she have to say to him?
"I was just wondering where you were. I guess I'll go then," she suddenly wanted to desperately get out of there. She wanted to put as much space between her and him as she could.
"Clarke." Bellamy grappled get arm and stood in front of her blocking the exit.
"Why did you really come here?"
She stared at the ground. "I don't know okay! I just...," she trailed off. "I thought you didn't care." Clarke's words were barely a mumble and they were almost swept away in the air.
Bellamy's heart dropped to his stomach. Fuck it, he thought. "Jesus Clarke don't you get it. I care too much; I care about you more than I should!"
He gripped her checks and would have kissed her right there, but something stopped him. Something didn't feel right. This wasn't how it was suppose the go. Not rough or fast, he wanted to show her he cared.
Gently he pressed their foreheads together and swayed her in his arms. "Clarke," he whispered. God it felt good to say her name like that, he thought. Clarke. Clarke. Clarke. She smelt so good. The scent of the campfire lingered on her clothes. She smelt like home.
She was close enough to taste him, to smell the damp soil smell on his clothes. Clarke was the one to lean their heads together until their lips were just barely brushing. The contact sent shivers up and down each of their spines.
It was slow; nothing was rushed, at least not yet. Bellamy started to move his hands up her back. She responded immediately.
"Jump," Bellamy whispered. Clarke jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Their breaths mingled in the shared space, the heat of their bodies counteracting the cold outside.
He started to move his hands under her shirt and upward. He wanted to show her, he wanted to show her how much she truly meant to him the only way he knew how.
"Bellamy!" Clarke jerked out of his clutches and jumped down. His face turned redder than Clarke thought humanly possible.
How could I be so stupid? Bellamy took a step back and started to stumble over an apology. God the things this girl does to me
She saw his face drop, saw the embarrassment written across his face. "No. No Bellamy," she whispered kissing him gently and holding onto his cheeks, he still wouldn't glance up. This was a different Bellamy than the strong leader she knew. This Bellamy was vulnerable.
Clarke kissed his lips again and didn't want to pull away. "I don't want to fuck," she whispered. "I want you to make love to me."
Bellamy smiled at the ground and clutched at her waist. "Whatever the princess wants," he mumbled kissing her neck.
She slowly kissed him with all the passion she had. And he was kissing her with everything he had, everything she deserved. She deserves far more than me, he thought.
It went on like this for a while. Just their two bodies pressed together in the head of the tent. Finally Bellamy worked up the courage to fiddle with the hem of her shirt. Of all the times he had dreamed about doing this, the feeling her skin of his.
Clarke smiled into the kiss at his hesitation. She didn't want to stop kissing him so she placed her hands on his and started to guide his fingers upward, taking her shirt with them. Dammit, it must have been a crime for how good looking he was.
"Clarke," Bellamy whispered breaking the kiss to move to her neck. Her shirt came all the way off her head.
Bellamy's lips moved from her neck to the skin visible on her chest causing Clarke to moan. He smirked making his cheeks flushed even more. She started to remove his shirt, tearing the dark cloth from his chest bit by bit until he wanted to just rip it off himself. The stomach that was hidden under the shirt was marked with hard muscles and scars. When both their shirts were discarded on the tent floor and Clarke's bra was somewhere in the tent, they started working on the bottom.
Clarke dropped down to her knees, letting Bellamy work his fingers in her hair, knotting it against her neck. She first undid the buckle of his belt, letting the sound of the metal clasp slipping undone give her a new sensation of confidence. Clarke stole a glance upward. Bellamy looked down at the same time and smirked.
She kissed the skin above his waist band, making her way up his torso and back to his mouth.
"Clarke," he whispered as her lips attached themselves to his neck. "God Clarke," he stifled a moan.
That sound fuelled her passion. She gripped his hair and kissed him deeply, letting him run his hands over her back and now to her waist. Her hands too found their way back to his waist, skimming over all the battle scars on his back. Bellamy smiled and started to tug her pants down. He pushed them all the way to her ankles and let her slip out of them.
"It's okay," she mumbles kissing behind his ear. He hadn't tried to show any hesitation, it wasn't his first time or anything, he wanted to please her.
When they were both standing in only their underwear, minus Clarke's bra, Bellamy started to pull her down against him until they were lying to a bed of blankets on the tent floor.
It was only them moving together in sync. Only their noises filling the tent and when it was over they laid together wrapped in warmth.
"Clarke?" His voice was rough and husky. The eyes that were staring at her held so much promise and compassion than ever before.
"Hmm," she mumbled in response. How did she let this boy take over her world? How did she let him be the only thing that mattered?
"You okay," he asked. Her hair was so soft under his fingertips.
She laughed into his neck and smiled."I'm better than okay."
Bellamy chuckled, "That's good princess."
Grey clouded Bellamy's eyes as he stroked Clarke's head. She is so beautiful, he thought.
"You know something," he whispered tickling her ears with his breathe. Clarke didn't trust herself to be make an actual human noise so she said nothing. "Your utterly unforgettable."
He was everything in that moment. His voice filled her thoughts and his smell invaded her. She couldn't get away from him if she tried, but she never wanted to get away from him. Clarke wanted to stay right there forever, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder and his warm breathe on her bare skin. She never wanted it to end.
Clarke fell asleep to the softest mumble from Bellamy's lips, their legs tangled together and their hair a mess
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