A New Dawn

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Avoiding Clarke was not easy. Not emotionally anyway. Since the moment she had gone, he longed to see her again, so desperately wanting her to come back. And now that she was here, he couldn't bring himself to talk to her. He did notice that Raven was spending a lot of time with was . . . good, he supposed. A little surprising but good. She was definitely handling the news better than he was. He supposed it made sense. The baby was a part of Finn. He guessed even Raven would want to protect that.

Bellamy on the other hand, was distancing himself; separating himself from the situation. He agreed to more patrols, more hunts, wanting to be out of camp as much as possible. But some nights, he would peek inside and make sure she was alright . . . only when he was certain she was sleeping. He still needed to see her, somehow, even if he couldn't communicate with her. He heard updates from the others, in passing. He didn't specifically ask, though was questioned as to whether he saw Clarke. All the more reason to step outside the camp every chance he got.

One person who did come to him was Raven. And she was being, typically Raven. Giving him a mouthful about how he should be supportive and caring and all this other stuff that just made him stare at her. He felt like she was trying to say something, without coming straight out and saying it. He didn't want to hear it though. And he ended the conversation by telling her to mind her own business . . . which naturally just pissed her off even more.

She insulted him a few more times, before storming off. Her words resonated with him though. He thought of them. Being supportive. But why the hell would Clarke need his support? She had everyone else's. This had nothing to do with him. It had everything to do with her and her baby. He continued to pretend that he remained unaffected by this all, by Raven's words . . . but truth of the matter was that he was. How could he not be when he cared so deeply about Clarke.

Bellamy had bee out hunting and when he returned, he was immediately greeted by Abby who wished to speak to him privately. She had informed him that Clarke had fainted, and concern immediately arose in him. He asked if she was alright and Abby confirmed that she was fine. But then she elaborated, saying similar things that Raven had only in a calmer and less accusatory way. Which, of course was expected and natural of Abby. But, in the same way Raven had, Abby seemed to be implying something that Bellamy wasn't quite sure of.

Did they know how he felt about her? Is that why they were saying this? Did Clarke say something? He didn't ask why, he just listened, and Abby seemed to expect this reaction for she didn't demand an answer and left him with his thoughts. Bellamy went to his tent and spent the next little while thinking over her words, and Raven's before then. He didn't think he had any power over Clarke's emotions . . . but others seemed to be suggesting differently. Two people who Clarke was close to. Two people who's opinions he couldn't -- shouldn't -- so easily dismiss.

Eventually, he gave in. He knew he couldn't avoid her forever, even if they had successfully done so the past little while. It seemed fate provided him with the perfect opportunity to, or maybe it was when he saw her sitting alone drawing, that prompted him to take advantage of the fact that she was alone. He took a deep breath, bottling away any emotion and reluctance he had in this moment as he walked up to her.

He remained silent for a few moments, just watching her draw before he finally spoke. "Hey," It wasn't a terribly creative greeting but it was a start he supposed. He could stupidly ask what she was doing when the answer was obvious. He could tell her that she should be resting, but it wasn't in his place to tell her what she should be doing. So he left it at that generic greeting for the time being, waiting to see her reaction. Would she even want to talk to him? Would she walk away? Had he burned whatever bridge they built?

[Clarke Griffin]

She had forgotten parts. In the time here on earth she had forgotten parts of how earth looked from the space. Maybe It was the fight for survival or the guilt, but Clarke noticed as she drew the view of earth from the Ark that she had forgotten bits and pieces. Instead glossing them over with a sheet of white clouds, the only thing that always looked the same. Maybe it was the constant worry for her baby or the growing anger and disappointment with Bellamy that made her forget. Her mother told her that as a mother her instinct would prioritize the baby naturally, the Grounders had said something similar when she was with them, which was one of the reasons why they agreed to be her escort for the little while. The child was innocent, a little miracle that should be treasured and as Clarke grew to love every movement of the little life inside her, she started to feel anger towards the man who helped create it, the man who just then spoke to her, causing her to twitch and pull the coal over the page creating a long black line right across her drawing. The blonde felt her stomach constrict. What the hell was he doing here? Why was he here? After such a long time. 

Clarke dropped her coal and sketchbook, so she could wrap her arms around herself, in a gesture of self protection, but most importantly to protect the baby. So much was to protect the child these days. She looked directly at him, eyes holding emotions like fear, pain and anger at the same time. 

“Bellamy. What do you want?”


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Yeah. She was pissed. But then again, he wasn't surprised. He had avoided her, and . . . wait. Why was she pissed? This didn't have to do with him, and he had to keep telling himself that. She saw him as a friend; was she just disappointed that he wasn't there for her? He wasn't sure she felt the same way about him that he did for her, so that wasn't going to factor into his uncertainty. Either way, he figured he would need to straighten it out. Otherwise, he never would have approched her.

"I don't get it, Clarke," he bluntly stated. There was no point beating around the bush or acting like he understood everyones reason for coming up to him. "Raven, your mom, hell even you, seem to think this has something to do with me." It didn't. Not in the way that they knew. He loved her. That was it. He knew that he did. But no one else knew . . . not unless they had somehow picked up on it. "What is it you want from me?" His question wasn't entirely rhetorical. He genuinely wanted to know what she wanted from him. The others expected something of him, but it all came back to her. so asking her straight up would be the only way to find out the truth; the root of all this.

[Clarke Griffin]

He stood there, telling her he didn’t get it. How? How could he not understand it? He was so openly against this, against their child and he claimed he didn’t get it. What was there not to get? He didn’t want his child, Clarke understood that, naturally. She would have to do this alone, but she needed confidantes, people who would at least support her a bit. He didn’t expect her to just keep it bottled up this entire time, did he? How could he not understand how they were pissed at him? He walked out on their child. Not wanting her was one thing, she didn’t expect it, but the baby was god damn innocent. It hadn’t picked them as parents, but it was there and she was its mother and as such she wanted the best for it. Including the father. But maybe he wasn’t the best. 

“I… I know you don’t want anything to do with this, you have been very clear with that, Bellamy. I want nothing from you, not anymore. I thought…” How was she to say this? How could you say someone what she thought, what she’s been through? Clarke got up, as fast as her belly permitted her to get up. She did not want people to see her now, to see them now. She went into the then, held the opening to it open for him, a clear invitation, a last invitation for him. After this she’d have to make sure to have him clear away from her, from them, at least for the duration of her pregnancy. She felt the stinging of tears in her eyes again, the hormones still making her so damn weak in that aspect. As soon as they were inside, she looked away from him, trying to hide the tears. 

“You told me once I would not have to do things alone, Bellamy, but this I have to do alone. You’ve been so perfectly clear. I don’t get it either, how can you stand there and be so cold and have the nerves to expect me to explain to you why we’re not happy with your move? I honestly thought you could be there for me, for us. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? Clearly you have no interest in your kid.”


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He had made it fairly clear with his lacking presence, but it still didn't answer his question. Why was everyone expecting him to be around for this? He remained silent as she moved, wondering if she was doing so to get away from him, but then she held the flap of the tent open for him to join her. That was probably for the best, to speak in private rather than make a scene for all to see and hear. He wordlessly followed her inside, standing near the entrance, or what would also be the exit and she looked away from him.

Tears. Hormones. He didn't want to be the reason for her tears . . . he shouldn't be the reason for them. But people seemed to think otherwise. She used his words against him, reminding him of what he had said which . . . he couldn't deny. He had recalled saying them. So is that what this was about? She wanted him here as a friend? To be there for her? Why him? There was her mother, Raven, Jasper, Monty, hell even Octavia would help out. Why him specifically? She made it sound as if the reason was so obvious, when he really hadn't the slightest idea. He even opened his mouth to ask that burning question of why, but it was her lastly spoken words that silenced him. Paralyzed him.

"Clearly you have no interest in your kid."

It made everything else flee from his mind, all her other words temporarily forgotten. He was fixated on these words, completely focused on them . . . completely taken aback by them. "My wh . . . my what?" He got out, not usually one who stuttered by this was perhaps one exception for it. He was confused, utterly confused. What did she mean his kid?! Was she diluted? Were her pregnancy hormones making her thinking go out of whack. "What the hell are you talking about, Clarke?" He demanded. If this was some kind of joke, he was far from amused. His kid. No. That made no sense. It was impossible. Completely impossible. And yet, she said it with so much certainty, which only confused him further.

[Clarke Griffin]

What? Clarke turned to him, to look at him. Was he serious in that question? He even denied it now? He had the freaking nerve to deny it! The blonde couldn’t even distinguish anymore if she cried out of humiliation and hurt or pure anger at his nerve to deny it all. Who did this? She thought him to be a very, very different man. He was such a good brother to Octavia, but apparently his sense of family stopped at the child he probably accidently created with a random person he could not feel for. Why had she ever thought he did? Clarke reached for a blanket, crumpling it, holding it in her anger, ready to toss it at him almost, yet she didn’t.

“What the hell am I talking about? How dare you? You got me pregnant and now you deny it? Your kid. YOUR CHILD; Bellamy Blake, is inside me and you deny it? Get the hell out.” Maybe that was what he had told them all, granted Clarke had not told anyone but Raven or her mother that he was the father, but to think he had denied it to everyone, too? She was all alone in this. “Get the hell out of here, Bellamy.” Clarke let go of the blanket now, both hands settling on her belly, fearing that this might cause problems again, so she tried, hard to calm her breath and herself, for the baby – for her baby.


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She was going on about how he was the father and he just stared at her dumbly, completely confused at her accusation. Or, whatever it was. So this is what she thought? This is why she was upset? She believed him to be the father and told others that he was too? Now it made damn sense why they were all coming to him. She had spread this lie to the others too. And yet . . . there was a strange conviction in her voice, as if there wasn't even a semblance of doubt in her that he was indeed the father. She was yelling at him to get out, and under other circumstances, he probably would have. But not right now; not when she was believing something that was impossible. He wasn't going to let her continue on thinking this.

Instead of turning toward the exit, he moved toward her, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders, in attempt to both calm her down and demand an answer. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell you're talking about." She thought he was the father? Well, he was about to disprove that theory. "You gotta be joking, Clarke," he continued on, in completely disbelief. His hands fell from her upper arm and he turned to the side as if trying to understand where she was coming from. He then turned his head back to look at her. "We never even . . . it's impossible alright!" His voice was strong, stern . . . a hint of anger in it. "Where do you come off saying that I'm the father? We both know who the real father is, and it sure as hell isn't me." Was she going to make him say it? Was she going to force him to speak Finn's name when it was painful enough to see the woman he loved carrying another man's child?

[Clarke Griffin]

Why the hell would he not leave? Could he not see that this was distressing her? Immensely so. Had she not had this other life in her, she would not mind going head to head with him over anything, even this, but this was affecting her baby – hers not theirs as he was so clearly not going to be involved no matter what. Her baby should be allowed to grow and be born healthy. It was hard enough either way. She kept watching him, hands still protective over her swollen belly. Slowly she realized where he was coming from. Not that this was making it any better. Far from it. Clarke felt for him, but clearly to him she was nothing but a nameless fuck in the shadows of the night, not even worth remembering. 

“Except we HAVE! But for the big Bellamy Blake I was just another fuck, wasn’t I? Not even worth remembering! And here I though you could care about me. No wonder.” No wonder he had not stuck around to help her or just ask how she was. He just did not give a damn. She felt like throwing up, from anger, stress, hurt feelings, Clarke couldn’t tell, maybe a mixture of it all, yet she held back.

“Where I’m coming from? For one: my ability to count. Had Finn been the father, I would be a month further along. In the timeframe I got pregnant I only slept with one man – you. Maybe the same doesn’t apply to you, but I remember who I sleep with. I remember even the damn scar on your thigh!” She remembered running her hand over it, even damn licking it! But he didn’t remember a single thing. She really didn’t mean a thing for him, did she?

“Please, just go away, Bellamy. Leave me alone. Just... just go, please." Clarke grimace in pain but did not allow herself to make a sound. 


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

What was she saying?! What did she mean by this? She was telling him he didn't remember them being together, accusing him of it and . . . she was right. But his failure to remember was not for the reasons she thought. He would have remembered. Hell, he wanted to remember. Being with her would not have been like being with anyone else. He cared for her deeply. Damn it, he was in love with her. So why couldn't his mind recall a time what he had longed to experience? It was when she mentioned his scar that solidified it. Because he never showed anyone so casually . . . not unless they really . . . shit.

She was asking him to leave, but he was in far too much shock to comply. Instead, he staggered back a few steps, his eyes widened with shock and, well, he was disturbed. Disturbed that he couldn't remember any of this. How was this possible?! He was looking off to the side, trying to desperately search his mind for when this happened. "I-I don't remember," he said, expressing his shock in this. His eyes went to hers, trying to gather himself but it seemed impossible in this moment. "Clarke, I don't remember a damn thing." He was less angry, less determined. More, desperate for her to believe him. For not only was she telling him they had sex, but that he was the father of her child. "I would have remembered if we . . . it, you  wouldn't be like the others." He needed her to know that too; that she meant far more to him than how she had made it sound; how he had led her to believe it was. He tried to swallow back his emotions, but they were surfacing because this was all too much. "How is this possible?" He asked, speaking aloud the nagging question, not even sure she had an answer but the question had slipped out all the same.

[Clarke Griffin]

Stubborn ass! This stubborn ass. Clarke could see how realization hit him, because how could she know about the scar – scars had she not seen them? And he had not shown her any other way, nor had she seen them any other way. It seemed to at least do the trick to convince him for just a moment. Clarke made sure to turn away from him. In her situation she considered leaving herself, if he didn’t do it. Stubborn ass. He really couldn’t see or consider what this was doing to her, could he? Clarke had to protect her baby, even from him. And that meant not turning back to face him, to hold her belly and hope, even as she felt tears streaming down her face. 

“But you don’t. So many would haves, Bellamy, but what’s a fact is that you don’t. I was just like the others, worth nothing to you. Accept it, move on and leave.” When should she stop saying that? When should she just take matters into her own hands and leave? Probably now, yet she couldn’t. For some reason she couldn’t. On top of it, it was her tent, it was supposed to be where she rested, where she could just be calm and collected and care for the unborn and no one else, her safe haven. She got lucky the last time she had asked him to leave. Maybe she should be just clear, blunt. 

“Look, Bellamy, that’s it. Okay? I don’t expect anything from you anymore. I’m over that. I shouldn't even have expected it in the first place. I’m fine. My baby and I will be fine. You’re not only off the hook, you’re out. And since stress of any form is still basically poison for us, please just go, unless you want to cause damage to us. But keep in mind I know how to defend myself. Just go, Bellamy.”


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He didn't understand why he couldn't remember. It's as if he had blacked out, because not even a hint of familiarity over what she was talking about crossed his mind. She was upset, understandably so, and was asking him to leave. He should. He didn't want to cause her more stress but . . . he also knew he couldn't walk away from her. Not like this. Not with what she revealed. He just, wished he understood it so that he could properly explain himself because yeah, he sounded like a damn asshole for not remembering being with her.

"That's not true," he argued in a low voice when she claimed that she was like the others, and worth nothing to him. She didn't want anything from him anymore, letting him off the hook. How could he accept that? How could he just turn around and act as if a burden had been lifted from him? How could he let her continue on hating him for something that he didn't even know he had done. Or didn't do. Or, whatever it was. "I thought it was Finn's," he said, now trying to explain where he was coming from, unsure if it even mattered at this point. "Hell, Clarke I thought it was Finn's baby and I couldn't . . . see you carrying another man's child." He wsa becoming dangerously close to blurting out how he felt, trying to deny it but now needing to explain why he had created distance between them.

"You're not worth nothing." She was worth everything. He took a small step closer to her, his eyes practically pleading for her to realize that; to believe him now. He hated being this vulnerable but how could he not with what she was telling him. He tried to school his emotions, tried to collect himself enough to be logical about this. But . . . she was pregant, with his child. "But it's like I blacked out or something." That was the only logical explanation. "This, you and me, is not something I would forget," he further reassured. He looked at her, trying to see if there was any semblance of belief in her eyes . . . or if she needed time away from him. He wasn't about to give up though. How could he? Family was everything and right now, she was carrying a baby that they had created, together . . . apparently.

[Clarke Griffin]

How could she believe it was not true? It was for all she saw. He didn’t remember. He could say a lot, lie even if he wanted to, but all she could go by was the fact, that he didn’t even remember sleeping with her and that hurt. It hurt because back then, even now, she felt for him, more than she should. She was paying the price apparently. That price was the pain in her stomach as well as the knowledge that she was alone in this. Clarke couldn’t go out and defend her people, all she could do was stay here and breed and hope for everyone to come home safely. “It’s not. Why didn’t, couldn’t you just say something? Why couldn’t you just ask?” Of all the things, why couldn’t he just… maybe because he didn’t care enough. Had she carried his baby, she would have still needed friends, she was sure of it. There was no point in thinking about it over and over again. It didn’t make anything better. What happened just happened. That was it. 

“Why can’t you just leave, Bellamy?” she asked him seriously. “The facts remain. I can’t… I can’t…” She needed to get out. Clarke turned away from him and just walked, walked towards the exit of her tend, but she didn’t get far. The by now familiar pain shot through her again, stopping her in her tracks. She gripped her stomach, unable to hold back a grunt of pain this time. God that still hurt so much. She had to stop this. Leaving her tent was no option anymore. “Fine. Bellamy, I’m done here, do you – ah – understand? I can’t talk about this anymore. Go, sort your feelings and thoughts or whatever. We’ll talk later. But right now, you have to leave. And.... can you get my mother.”


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Why hadn't he asked. He would have, had he held any recollection of sleeping with her. He knew Clarke wasn't the kind to sleep around herself, so he had just assumed it was Finn. He hadn't even thought there was a remote possibility that he was the father, but clearly, she was telling him otherwise. And he believed it. He had to. The proof of the scar was enough to convince him, but he was still disturbed as to why he couldn't remember. "I didn't know I had to," he told her, summing up his thoughts in a single statemnt. Well, at least regarding that matter. There was so much more he wanted to say, but she didn't want him here. That hurt, of course it did.

But he also knew that she would need time . . . and he needed to process everything. He needed to figure out how the hell this had happened. Although, did it even matter at this point? She was walking toward the exit, and he just continued to stand there, though he instinctively took a step closer to her when she paused in pain, cripping her stomach. He was doing this, wasn't he. He was the source of her stress, her pain . . . and in that, he was endangering the baby. Their baby. For so long, his life had been about Octavia.

My sister; my responsbility. But now, there was a child. And the woman carrying him or her was someone he loved. He supposed this was normal, that the more he loved someone, the more he hurt them. His mother. Octavia. And now Clarke. But that didn't mean he was just going to give up. He couldn't. "My baby, my responsibility." The words entered his mind as he spoke them, being hit with the realization that he had a family . . . whether he had planned for one or not, which clearly, he had not.

"I won't abandon that." His responsibility to her or their baby. "Whether you like it or not." With that, he turned to leave her tent, calling out for Abby, saying that something was wrong with Clarke. Her mother rushed to the tent and Bellamy followed, but paused outside the entrance. He knew he wasn't going to help much, not until Abby got the situation under control. Clarke had after all said that they would talk later.

Perhaps both of them needed time to digest everything . . . to figure out where they stood. Had anything changed on Clarke's part? Since basically everything had changed for Bellamy. He needed to know that she was ok though, so he just hovered outside the tent, watching Raven pass him as she went inside to also help, before Jackson joined the scene. At least Clarke was being well looked after. But . . . he just hated the fact that he couldn't be one of the people looking after her. At least not right now.

[Clarke Griffin]

She couldn’t believe her ears. What the hell? What the hell did he even think he was doing? So suddenly it was his baby? His responsibility and he wouldn’t abandon it? Pretty damn late. She didn’t need him anymore. Far from it. Clarke watched, face blank as he left the tent. She turned, struggling to the bed, where she just lay down, waiting for more pain or her mother, whatever came first. It was the pain, followed directly by her mother. This time the pain could be brought under control easily. By the time raven and then Jackson arrived, the pain was gone, Clarke was settled safely into the bed, drinking the terribly bitter concoction that would ‘help strengthen her’. So far Clarke felt no effect to this drink. She didn’t feel any stronger after it, not ever – apart from the typical strength of having just eaten and that was it. 

They stayed for a long while, Jackson being the first to leave, followed by her mother and the big words of ‘resting’ and bedrest and all that. It wasn’t back to square one, she would be allowed to go walk a little the next day, but not alone, just in case and all that annoying bla bla that came hand in hand with her body reacting this way to stress again. As Raven went to leave, though, she turned back to her friend, to tell her how Bellamy was still outside. He waited. He really waited outside all this time? The thought alone caused her to tell Raven she could tell him he could come in if he wanted. The blonde pulled the blanket higher and turned to the side, eyes locked on the entrance of the tent.


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Things were messed up. He was going to be a father, and apparently he was the last to know about it. He watched the others filter into the tent as he just stood outside, waiting, and waiting. It sounded like they were able to stabilize Clarke since they didn't call for more help, nor did he hear any sort of panic. That was good. But he also wondered if this was how it was always going to be when they talked. Hopefully not. He used this time to compose himself, to let the shock subside long enough to have a proper conversation. To not let his emotions make him vulnerable again. Clarke and the baby didn't need a pansy of a father. He still couldn't understand how this had all happened but he couldn't just focus on the past.

He needed to focus on the present and future. And . . . how the hell they were going to raise a baby in this place. He wasn't sure how much time had passed until he saw Jackson step out, informing Bellamy that everything was ok. He gave a small nod to the man. Soon after, Abby stepped out, and then eventually Raven, telling him that Clarke said he could go in if he wanted to. He didn't know if it was the best idea, but he supposed it was either now or later and the circumstances were going to change until they worked it out.

Still, he waited a little longer, taking a deep breath and this time, stepping into the tent with more control of himself. With a better understanding of what was going on . . . well, sort of. He saw Clarke lying down and kept a distance between them, knowing that his close -- or closer -- proximity may once again, trigger an episode. "I'm not here to fight, Clarke," he told her. "Or to stress you out." Which, he had epically failed at the last time. "I just wanna have a conversation." That was all. "Are you alright with that?" He would give her the option. He could stay and they could talk . . . or she could get some rest and they could put off this conversation until she was feeling better, and not recovering from baby pain.