Among Mountain Men.

[Clarke Griffin]

Bellamy Blake

---

It was cold. When her bare feet touched the floor for the first time, Clarke felt it, shocked. It reminded her of the Ark, where the ventilation would make every surface cold to the touch. It seemed similar here. Wherever here was. Everything seemed white, sterile even. It made no sense. Clarke remembered the weird pink gas, but she didn’t remember being hooked up to an IV or being brought here or even just getting changed. The blonde looked around the room in confusion, but it was the door that attracted her the most. It had a window. She could look outside, try and find clues as to what was going on. But then she noticed a flash of dark locks. Hope rushed through her, prompting her to run to the door. Bellamy! She was right. That WAS Bellamy. Clarke knocked on the door. She called out, but at first nothing seemed to register with him. The doors were soundproof. Was he locked up as well?

Just as she was giving up on calling him she saw a sign. ‘Mount Weather Quarantine Ward’. They were in Mount Weather? As she stared at the sign, her gut telling her that this could not be good, someone walked towards where they kept Bellamy. They reached for the door. They wanted to get him, she realized! Clarke couldn’t let that happen. A quick look around gave her one option: The IV stand. She grabbed it. At first Clarke smashed the camera with it, before she used what power she had to smash the window in the door. Reaching outside – and cutting her arm open in the process – she managed to unlock the door. 

“Bellamy!”

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy awoke to bright lights . . . literally, bright lights. Brighter than what he was used to. It took a few moments to try and recall the last thing he remembered. A war with the Grounders. Smoke. But that was as far as he got. He was in a strange white room, with a small window on the door that he promptly took advantage of. He looked through it, seeing a door opposite of his. This entire area must be filled with it. Did that mean the others were here?

He needed to get out of here and find out. No sooner did the thought cross his mind, that he suddenly saw Clarke in the room opposite to him. He could see her lips moving but couldn't hear anything. Sound proof, it had to be. He felt instant relief that she was alright, though he was concerned as to why they were here. Who had brought them here? Sure as hell wasn't the Grounders or the Reapers. And there was only one other kind of people he had heard about: the Mountain Men.

Bellamy suddenly saw someone on the other side of the door proceeding to open it. He took a step back to allow the stranger to enter, but before he could lay a hand on Bellamy, he decided to take control. Whoever it was did not seem to be expecting it, which worked in his favor all the more. Bellamy grabbed the individual and pushed him against the wall, his fist striking the person's jaw a couple of times before he fell unconscious on the ground. Bellamy took off the mask they were wearing, not finding anything that could indicate who they were. Nor did he have any weapons on him. Hearing something break across the hall, he looked to see Clarke unlocking the door and he quickly rushed to her, his eyes immediately finding the gruesome wound on her arm.

"You alright?" He asked, looking over the wound quicky. It was deep, perhaps deeper than what could be merely tended to with a piece of cloth. Bellamy went to the unconscious person, ripping a piece of the person's shirt. Bellamy then rushed back to Clarke, tying it around her arm to place pressure on the wound. He closed the door to his room, though knew it wouldn't take them long to figure out that whoever they sent had not returned and that Clarke's window was broken and she too had escaped. Bellamy rushed to the next room, peeking through the window but couldn't see anyone. He looked on the opposite side. No one. He had a feeling this would be the case for the remainder of the rooms. "Come on," he urged. They needed to figure out where they were and where the rest of their people were.

[Clarke Griffin]

He was breaking free. Clarke noticed that as she was breaking out herself, ready to knock out whoever was attacking him. Not that that was necessary. Bellamy had already done it. The blonde pulled her arm close, not caring about the white shirt being drenched in blood through this. It was deep, but Clarke knew it hit nothing major. It was bleeding, quite a lot right now, due to the depths, but the blood flow was easily stopped with just a bandage. 

“I’m fine. You?” She looked up to find him move away to get a piece of the mans shirt. It was obvious to her what he needed that for and what he wanted with it, so she held her arm out to him, allowing to tie the bandage around it tightly, but not too tightly. Had she not seen him with his sister, she would have been surprised at how… easily he seemed to be able to determine the appropriate amount of pressure. Clark then looked him up and down. He was barefoot as well, wore only a white shirt and white pants like her. It was kind of odd to see him in bright colors. While they didn’t look bad on him, dark was his color, for whatever reason. Clarke nodded, following his lead, but continuously looking behind them as well, to see if there was maybe a threat coming from behind them.

“We’re in Mount Weather, Bellamy. This is a huge bunker. Our friends could be anywhere. We… need someone to bring us to them.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Though her arm injury concerned him, assuring him that she was not totally fine . . . it was at least not life threatening. They would hopefully have a chance to look at it properly later. Right now, they needed to find out exactly what was going on here, and where the rest of their friends were. "I'm fine," he answered dismissively. He wasn't wounded so he was alright. She brought up a valid point, that this place was large and that they needed to find someone to bring their friends to them, or them to their friends. He had already knocked out the guy who had entered his cell, they would need someone else.

"Right," he agreed in a low, whispered voice. When they neared the end of the hall, Bellamy remained against the corner of it, not yet moving forward. They could go left or right, but Clarke had a good point. Without knowing where they were going, they could just end up right back where they started . . . or worse. "Someone's bound to round that corner," he told her, in a continued low voice. Surely they would notice that the guy who was sent to get him, hadn't returned.

"We'll grab whoever does," he added on. He instinctively moved himself ahead of her, so that she remained directly behind him, hardly any distance between them but was serving as a barrier to whoever may come, and Clarke. He slightly turned his head to the side to see what he could of her, his gaze falling to her bleeding arm as a silent check on it. Approaching footsteps caused him to quickly turn his head back forward, bracing himself for whoever was going to come, and ready to catch them by surprise.

[Clarke Griffin]

Ever the strategist, Clarke found herself easily falling in line with his idea of taking whoever came hostage. She’d not feel any remorse for that. They had them captured. They were, from what they could see, the prisoners of the people there and had been held in a medical station like some guinea pigs or laboratory rats. Whatever they wanted, Clarkes gut told her it was not good. Had it been good, surely those people would have communicated with them in some form, instead of just taking them by force and locking them up. As they hadn’t, why should Clarke feel regret about them having to take someone to protect themselves and their people? She stayed behind him as he wanted her to, but ready to take over, should they need it.

Bellamy was more than capable of overpowering someone, Clarke was physically weaker, so she reached for a shard of glass as weapon. Should anything go wrong, she could still defend the two of them with this simple tool and that was more than enough of what they needed. Finally she heard the footsteps. She peaked around the corner, feeling a bit shocked and weird to be confronted with a person wearing full hazmat. Why? Why would anyone wear a hazmat around them? And let them not wear it. Were they poisoning them? What the hell was going on? Whatever the meaning was, Clarke wanted to find out, either from that person or from another. 

“Take their hazmat off, Bellamy.” She whispered to her partner. It was the easiest and fastest way to get through to them she suspected. If there was anything dangerous in the air, they would find out if the exposed them to it. Again Bellamy and her were exposed already, so Clarke was sure she’d not feel any remorse.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke was ready with her peice of glass. He was quite fortunate that they had both managed to escape because she was the perfect person to have at his side during a time such a this one. She instructed him in a low voice to remove the hazmat. He nodded in reponse, fully prepared to reveal who was hiding under it. He waited for the footsteps to draw closer and closer, until the opportune moment presented itself.

He had to act quickly though. He reached out to grab the perosn, immediately positioning himself directly behind her. Simultaneously, he pulled the hazmat over and immediately brought his hand over the person's mouth to cover it. It was in that moment that he realized it was a young woman. Just a girl, no older than the oldest delinquent.

He could feel her smaller stature against him, but it hardly eased his hold or opinion. She was still clad like this, she was still among the area where they were all being contained. He didn't let her speak right away. He expected Clarke would use the shard of glass as a weapon; a warning. "Don't get wise," he warned her. Meaning, don't do anything stupid. With that, he slowly lowered his hand from around her mouth as he looked to Clarke to start the questioning.

[Clarke Griffin]

“Hey!” Clarke replied in clear annoying. She wouldn’t do anything bad. They needed answers, which meant they needed to get them out of her or have her bring them to someone who could answer. There was no need to hurt her, but there was also no way she would not have her think that. The fear of it was a powerful weapon, one that she meant to embrace right there, right then. Clarke moved forward. She held the shard to the girls throat, careful not to hurt her, but to still make her feel the sharp edge, as a warning of course, that was all. 

“Where are we?” She asked her. The girl whimpered, which only made Clarke sigh. She was afraid of them, she doubted the girl would be of any use in terms of answers. Maybe they had to go somewhere else. In those cases they had to get out of there as well anyway, so they might as well have her show them the way out. “If you don’t want to reply, show us to someone who will.” The blonde demanded, but she looked at Bellamy, silently asking if he had a better idea, if he maybe could get the answers out of her. He was skilled in different things than Bellamy was and as such she could imagine he might get it out of her. He held much more authority than she did, even to strangers. All delinquents used to flock after him naturally when they landed. He was good at this. The blonde moved her hand a little, as if to allow him to take the shard and she would, if he needed to.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke demanded their whereabouts, holding the shard of glass to the girl's throat. She didn't answer. Bellamy's patience was wearing thin. They had woke up in a completely unfamiliar place, separated from their people. He damn well wanted answers, now. But he also knew that torturing her wasn't the way to get them. Torturing one man -- Lincoln -- was enough to last him a lifetime. Clarke then demanded that she show them someone who would talk to them. Bellamy didn't take the shard, trusting Clarke to defend them with it. He was going to try to be lenient with her, but that leniency would only last so long.

"Neither of us want to hurt you. But we will if that's what it takes." He wanted the girl to know that they weren't messing around here. That they were dead serious. He kept a firm grip on the girl, not about to release her in the slightest or loosen his grip. "So tell us where we are." His voice held no room for debate or rejection of his demands. "Or take us to our friends." They may not be fully prepared to fight, but they had a hostage. And that was something that they could use to their utmost advantage. He felt the girl slowly raise her arm toward what appeared to be an elevator. With that, Bellamy gave a small nod to Clarke, prompting her to go in first before he would follow with the young woman. She could be leading them into a trap . . . but again, they had a hostage and it was a good position to be in compared to the alternative: which was being trapped in an isolated room.

[Clarke Griffin]

Finally the girl gave them at least a direction. Clarke was glad. She didn’t want anyone hurt, but at the same time she would do what she had to do. They had killed so many people, what would the blood of one more do on their hands? Especially as it looked like right now she belonged to the aggressors. From their perspective the girl belonged to the people who held them captive. They took them here without explanation; Clarke even remembered the smoke bombs they used to knock them out. This was an aggressive act, so they should expect the kids to try and fight back. In many ways it was their own fault to send her in all alone. They could have expected the kids who just killed 300 grounders.

Clarke walked first, holding the shard as their only weapon while Bellamy had the girl secured in a strong hold, but she knew it wouldn’t hurt her. Bellamy was the kind of man who could control the power he used. He’d use just enough to hold her in places to make sure she would not be hurt in all of that. It ensured that those big hands could hold your arms, but you’d still feel safe, not fear him actually harming you. He’d only harm people on purpose, never by accident – and if he did that he’d be sorry. Once at the elevator, Clarke took a look at it. It somehow needed something to open it. Damn it. They really were prisoners. “Open it.” She demanded. “You’re better not sounding some alarm!!”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Once they reached the elevator, it was clear that they needed some sort of passcode to access it. Clarke fortunately picked up on that quickly and demanded to the girl to open it. Their captive slowly reached toward it, swiping her card. Once she did, Bellamy grabbed it from her and pocketed it, just in case they would need it in the future. He pulled the girl inside the lift, going in first to make sure it was safe before nodding to Clarke to enter as well. "Which level?" He demanded to the girl as his eyes looked over all the numbers.

How big was this damn place? He watched the girl pushed number 5, and he made a quick mental note of that. Bellamy looked to Clarke, concern on his face but shielding it with determination. He did not release his hold on the girl and it was even better that Clarke was prepared with her weapon of the glass. Though, it was also evident that the girl was getting increasingly nervous. Bellamy could see her reflection in the cracked glass of the elevator. She was distressed. Rightfully so. But he held no sympathy to her. Not right now. She had gone in that room where they were being held prisoner. She was a part of this . . . whatever this was. Though he meant his words. He wasn't going to kill her unless she gave them a reason to. The one thing he could at least be relieved about was that Clarke was with him. Because when they were together, united, a team . . . well, that was when they could accomplish the seemingly impossible.

[Clarke Griffin]

What she saw when they got out of the elevator was a sight she never expected and probably a sight she would never forget: People, dressed nicely, sitting around tables, eating, drinking, talking as if it was no fight for life or death out there, as if this was normal and peaceful. It was peaceful. There were elderly people! There were kids, pushing a ball between them. Clarke couldn’t believe her eyes, old flags hung over them, the food looked to die for. Those people were happy and at peace. Until a lady spotted them, Clarke and Bellamy holding one of their own hostage, blood running down Clarkes arm still. They had questioned the terrified girl, but she was too panicked to speak and now, now this woman pointed at them, calling containment breach, causing panic between them. 

“Where the hell are we?” Clarke questioned. She heard the guards, guns clicking. She dropped the shared, aware that it stood no chance against guns. They had no choice. It was comply or be killed and they still had no answers. So she let them grab her, let them tie her hands and drag her along. Clarkes eyes were fixed on Bellamy, making sure he was close. If they separated them, that would be the moment she would start to resist, but for now she was too shocked. 

To her surprise they took them to a medical bay. Each was chained to a bed. She hoped that would remain. They could try to slip out of them, but only moments later nurses arrived. Clarke flinched as one touched her arm. What did they want? It appeared those two only wanted to assess the damaged Bellamy and she had done to their bodies. “Don’t.” She warned, but they don’t listened. They even put a local anesthesia onto her arm as they applied stitches to it. Why?

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

This whole place seemed off. Weird. Like they had entered another universe. A civilization within this place of . . . people. Sitting down, having a normal meal. The shock of what lay before them numbed both him and Clarke, to the point of armed guards coming at them. He was forced to let go of his hold of the girl they had been holding hostage. It wasn't worth it. Especially since they had their weapons on Clarke too. He held up both his hands, at which point each one was grabbed by a guard and yanked behind his back.

He kept his eyes on Clarke the entire time, making sure that he didn't lose sight of her. He didn't want to get seperated from her again. He assumed they were going bac to that prison of a place they'd managed to successfully break out of . . . but to his surprise and confusion, they were instead taking to a medical wing. He was chained to the bed, forced to lay there as someone came to inspect them.

"Get the hell away from me," he protested, jerking what he could move of his body that wasn't being restrained. He turned to Clarke, watching her and trying to break free from the chains when he saw them inject something into her arm. Her injury looked bad and . . . what the hell, were they stitching her up?! This made no sense. No damn sense at all. "You ok?" He called out to her, wanting to hear her voice and make sure that whatever they gave her, wasn't anything too shady. It appeared to be a basic anesthetic but he was far from trusting these people.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke wanted to struggle, but really she was too baffled by the fact that they numbed her arm and then started to stitch her up professionally to do something. They cleaned the wound and finally put a patch on it, one that was sterile and clean and unlikely to let any germs through for the time being. They seriously gave her medical attention. Clarke turned to look at Bellamy next to her, who looked as confused as she probably did. It made no sense. They attacked them and they still helped them with their wounds. What the hell? This entire place made no sense. The only thing making sense was Bellamy so she kept her eyes on him, hoping that with that something would start to make sense again. As she did so she nodded to him, to tell him, that, yes, she was okay. They had tried to fix her.

When the medical personnel left, Clarke finally felt like she could talk to Bellamy. She didn’t want to talk in front of them, afraid to give away her confusion and fear. This was not something she expected, nor wanted to experience. But Bellamy was giving her a bit of confidence. He had ideas. He had strategies. And he was physically stronger than her. She had every reason to feel comfort in his presence. He had this protective nature about him. And now they were both prisoners.

“So they survived in Mount Weather… but why keep us prisoners? And why treat my arm if we’re prisoners. I don’t understand.” Even more so, she not only didn’t understand, there was a deeper problem. “I’m scared.”

Bellamy Blake