Hope

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy was ready to start on the story . . . when Clarke spoke of how they needed something else. He was prepared to get them whatever they needed to further their comfort. But what she revealed, only made his smile remain as he wrapped an arm around Clarke, moving closer to her as his eyes fell to the feeding baby in her arms, eagerly taking in her mother's milk. She then apologized for them being tired and Bellamy immediately protested. "That's not something you never need to apologize for, Clarke," he assured her.

"If anything, I'm glad to see you and Hope getting rest." As long as they were safe and healthy, that was what mattered most. "What I imagine . . . is just seeing you two. Awake or asleep." That was what he cared about. Hell they could sleep all day and Bellamy would gladly lie next to them and just watch them rest. "I just want the both of you to be safe and healthy," he added, speaking aloud his thoughts. He leaned toward Hope, giving her a light kiss on her forehead -- as he knew she didn't like to be disturbed during her meal time. He then leaned toward Clarke, and softly kissed her cheek. "This feels perfect." Being with them felt perfect. Nothing ever would be he supposed, but this was as close to perfection as could be acheived here.

[Clarke Griffin]

The fact, that Hope managed to shoot Bellamy a look that seemed so clearly annoyed – it actually matched Bellamys annoyed look in a way – made her remember very clearly that she was a Blake. He had interrupted her a bit with his kiss. As much as she loved Bellamy, it seemed like feeding needed her undivided attention. She could hold fingers, but that was about it. Clarke couldn’t blame her. She was a baby. A lot of things were still a challenge for her and she was kind of glad for it. Hope didn’t know of the horrors of this world, nor of the crimes her parents had to commit. But for now she was happy – if they didn’t annoy her during feeding. “It does, doesn’t it?” almost too perfect. But then again their daughter was perfect, without a doubt. 

“It’s so weird. I never thought I’d be the kind of mother to think her baby would be the most perfect being to ever exist. But I do. And if you tell me Octavia was more perfect, I’m gonna punch you.” She actually would. Not too hard, of course. Hope let stopped drinking then, obviously finished, so Clarke carefully lifted her and held her out to Bellamy with a grin. “Today, that’s Daddys job.” To be fair, Clarke suspected he loved it. He was quite the expert in seeing when hope needed help with swallowed air or not. Besides, he wanted to tell a story and his daughter adored him, so she belonged into his arm. Clarke leaned over into him, closing her eyes. It felt a bit like they were on borrowed time. This was peaceful, their lives had become increasingly peaceful at the end of her pregnancy and with the baby. She knew part of it was due to people protecting them, but in the end Bell and her would return that favor. “I want her to stay that small.” But she couldn’t and shouldn’t. “You promised a story.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy couldn't help but smirk at Clarke's statement of punching him if he said that Octavia was more perfect. Octavia and Hope were perfect in very different ways. They were both a part of him . . . but Hope was created by him and Clarke. A symbol of their love for one another. It was really a beautiful thing indeed. "I wouldn't dare say such a thing," he said teasingly. All he knew, was that Hope was the epitome of perfection. The center of their worlds. The first baby of their people and one who was certainly doted upon. He loved her with every fiber of his being, and he knew Clarke felt the same about her.

How could they not? When she was done feeding, Bellamy reached out to take her in his arms, holding her against his shoulder, her head a bit above it as he gently patted and rubbed her back. "And I'm glad to do it any and every day," he said with a continued smile. It felt impossible to hold any other emotion on his face while he was with the love of his life and his daughter in such perfect moments. Hope whined a little before she managed to get out a burp, and then another small one. Bellmy drew up back to look at her, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the milk drool that came from her mouth and spilled over her tiny chin.

When it was cleaned off, he cradled her in his arms, holding Hope against him as Clarke stated that she wanted her to stay this small, before reminding him that he owed them a story. "All the more reason to have another," he said playfully, though with truth as based on their earlier conversation. Slowly moving her side to side, Bellamy then began to tell her the suggested story. A tale of a king and princess who met and fell in love. He left out the gory details, but rather, made it almost into a fairy tale type of story. He remembered occasionally telling Octavia such stories when she was younger . . . half based on older versions, the other half of them being made up. With his attempt now, he hoped to lull both Hope and Clarke into a restful sleep. They both needed and deserved it.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke lay back down. She placed her arm over Bellamys lap, holding herself close, while she watched him burp their daughter. Hope was truly a little miracle. As soon as she released the air she had sucked in, she placed her head back against her dads chest, cooing softly. The way her eyes got smaller and smaller, it was obvious the little girl was close to falling asleep. Her fathers voice and the warmth of his body would do the rest very soon. And Clarke loved watching that. She loved watching her daughter play, drink, learn new things, she loved her frown, her little pout, she was just perfect. 

Rolling over just for a moment, Clarke grabbed the blanket and plushy, so Bellamy would have it at the ready, should both of them fall asleep. And as Clarke listened to the story, she knew she would be asleep just moments after their daughter would fall asleep. The babies movements were getting slower and more sluggish. Finally she closed her eyes, resting against her dad. Her face was entirely relaxed, happy even. It was a beautiful sight. In moments like these, Clarke wanted to have a camera. It was the little moments she wanted to keep forever. Though like she expected, just moments later, Clarkes eyes closed, too and she joined her daughter in dream land.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

It didn't take long before Hope fell into a fairly deep sleep, and judging from the still movements, and steady breathing from Clarke . . . she too had fallen asleep. Bellamy smiled, continuing to nestle Hope against him and lean his head toward Clarke a little. Everything felt so perfect right now. He closed his eyes, not quite sleeping but he was resting. He didn't want anything to break this seemingly wonderful moment. Both Hope and Clarke were getting much needed rest, and he was among those that he loved. Everything felt right. He wasn't sure how much time had passed until he opened his eyes as Hope started fidgeting in his arms.

She was awake. But something wasn't right. Bellamy felt it, and could see it in her face. She didn't need a change or anything, so he wondered if it had really been a couple hours since she was last fed. But no. The way her face twisted in displeasure indicated something else. It was an expression that Bellalmy had not seen before; one he couldn't identify. He felt her warmth against his body and . . . that was just it. She was warm. Too warm. He moved the back of his hand to touch her forehead, and then her cheek. She was burning up. "Clarke," he said huriedly, abruptly moving so that he was sitting up more, as Hope began to whimper. Bellamy was often stoic, composed . . . but right now, he felt a panic surge through him. A worry for his daughter. "She's burning up," he added on, as Hope's whimpering began a building cry . . . one that made Bellamy's heart ache. He just couldn't bare to see his baby girl in pain.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke couldn’t tell if it was Bellamy calling out for her or her daughters whimper, one of the two woke her. The later would be added to a natural instinct for mothers. The blonde was fully awake in seconds, as soon as Hopes whimpers really registered with her and on top of it Bellamys words. She was burning up. Despite trusting her boyfriend, Clarke reached out to touch Hopes forehead, which was met with an annoyed whimper and tiny fists connecting with her hand to push her away. Her baby was clearly not feeling good. Thick tears rolled down Hopes cheeks by now and were soon joined by her agonized cry. Clarke had never taken lessons on how to care for babies. Her pediatric knowledge was limited. 

The young mother jumped up. She reached for the robe they had given her after giving birth, because she could not yet manage moving too much. Now it came in handy again. Slipping her feet into the next shoes she could see, she was ready to head out. “I’m getting Mom or Jackson. I… you keep her calm, Bellamy. When I get back, I’ll have them with me.” She already had a bit of an idea of what to do to at least help her baby get better. But first she needed someone with knowledge to check her out. Clarke barely noticed her own tears, when she ran into Jacksons and then Abbys tent. Her mother immediately came running, after all it was about her granddaughter. Clarke could barely keep up with her mother running back to the apartment where Bellamy hopefully kept their daughter calm.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy hated to see Hope cry. It made his heart ache at seeing her in so much pain, and feeling so powerless to do anything about it. Hell, he was surprised that his own tears didn't start forming in his eyes . . . but miraculously, they weren't. Not yet anyway. While he had often dealt with a crying Octavia, this was different. Not only because Hope was his own, but because her crying did not have to be quieted so that she would not be discovered. Yet, it gave Bellamy no peace of mind. He wanted his baby girl to be smiling. Bellamy glanced at Clarke as she quickly got dressed, and told him that she was getting the two medical experts to come.

Keep Hope calm. That was his job. And yet, he felt fearful over Clarke leaving. He felt the fear of failing as a father, not being able to keep their baby princess calm. Not being able to ease her tears and pain. He rose to his feet, gently swaying her in his arms, needing Clarke to come yet knew that a doctor was much needed. Hope's crying grew louder and louder, as Bellamy continued to gently move her, and start talking to her. It wasn't working. She was getting hotter and her cries were getting louder and more pain ridden. Bellamy was frantic, though he tried to appear calm for the sake of his daughter. An already upset child would only become more so if they took notice of a panicking parent.

Bellamy resorted to singing in a low voice, recalling a song that his mother sang to Octavia when she was a baby to ease her crying; a lullaby. One that Bellamy had started to sing to Octavia too when he was young. It had a little affect, as Hope's crying slightly eased to a soft whimpering. Perhaps it was due to the unfamiliar sound . . . but whatever it was, it worked just long enough for Clarke and Abby to return. Relief washed over him as he hurried toward the two Griffin women. "She's burning up," he said, still holding Hope but prepared to put her in Clarke or Abby's arms. "She just suddenly got warm, and started crying, and . . . just help her." His voice was more desperate than demanding. Because Bellamy couldn't stand this; couldn't stand Hope being in this sort of distress and pain.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke thought she heard the last notes of a lullaby. She loved those very, very rare moments when Bellamy would do something as intimate as that with their daughter, but unfortunately this time it was about something not as nice as she would have hoped it would be. She hoped her boyfriend would sing for her in a quiet moment where he thought it was just him and Hope and maybe the stars watching them and with them his mother, from whatever afterlife there was, if there was one. Maybe her father watched over them, too. In any case Clarkes mother rushed forward. She didn’t take Hope from Bellamy and Clarke knew exactly why. She had seen her do it on the Ark before. Her looking into Hopes mouth and ears was new, unfamiliar and uncomfortable for Hope, as was taking her temperature. Of course being in familiar arms would make it easier, if only a little. Hope still screamed and cried in discomfort and annoyance, a small fist holding Bellamys shirt very tightly. Abby beckoned Clarke outside with her, as there was next to no chance to talk without yelling over Hopes cries.

Outside, Abby told her what to do, so that she could return to her loves just moments later. They had a plan of attack, that was good. Instead of joining Bellamy and their crying daughter. She went to wet two socks, which she put on their daughter. It quieted her for a moment, confused because of the socks on her now. The baby still whimpered. “It’s like the cloth to the head, but to her feet. It will help bring the fever down. Mum says it’s just her body fighting off some germs, not a full sickness yet. We will have to watch her and keep the fever down.” For a moment Clarke considered telling him he could go about his day as usual, but she saw her daughter in his arms and she knew there was no way she could take her daddy away from her today. And she couldn’t take him from her. And she really wanted him there, too. “Let’s go sit down with her. You’re not going to work today, are you?”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Each cry and scream of discomfort and pain, made his heart ache a little more. He couldn't bare this. He couldn't stand the sound of her in such distress. She was in his arms once more as he watched Clarke leave with Abby. He could understand why, but at the same time, he felt panic at their leaving. Was it that serious? Was it really bad? It felt like ages until Clarke returned -- though he knew that it could have only been a few moments. When she did, she put two set socks on Hope. She then explained, and informed him of what Abby had said. He felt relief and yet worry at the same time.

He doubted that worry would ever stop. Even when Hope was fully healthy, he still worried for her. He made his way to the bed, sitting back down on it as he touched Hope's cheek again, expecting the socks to work immediately -- somewhere deep down knowing it was irrational to expect her to instantly be better. Clarke then asked him a question that he could answer quite easily.

"Hell no," he told her, no ounce of doubt or hesitation in his voice. "I'm staying here with you and Hope," he elaborated. "What else can we do for her?" he asked, wanting to know everything and anything he could. "Is there a medicine she can take if she is sick?" Something harmless for babies. "Should I take her clothes off?" He asked, wondering if that would help cool her down. He wasn't even trying to conceal the worry he felt for their baby girl. He had dealt with a sick Octavia before . . . but it was different. It was incredibly different having a baby sister, and having his own child.

[Clarke Griffin]

“Good.” She needed him here. Clarke might have learned to be a mother, she might be analytical right now, but she was panicking, maybe just inwardly. This was her baby, her flesh and blood. She was sick. She was fragile. What if they underestimated the situation and in the end they would lose Hope? She wouldn’t be able to recover from losing her child, Clarke knew as much. She had known it from the moment she discovered her pregnancy and counted back to find out who the father was. From them every single effort in her pregnancy was to keep her baby alive, not even her own life mattered to her. Maybe that was part of why it had been so hard on her or it was just natural, either way, she knew she’d give her life for her child. She’d do anything to make sure she survived. She was their peoples Hope, her Hope. She was everything.

“We can give her tea for now. Medicine is there, but Mum doesn’t think she needs it yet. She might just get over it without medicine, just with tea. And medicine could always have side effects, so just the tea for now. We will see if it’s getting worse, then we might have no choice." Clarke reached for the plushy and blanket, both were eagerly grasped by the sick baby girl. It was familiar, meant comfort, so Clarke knew she’d want to have and hold it. And she might not allow her parents to leave her for long.

“I think we should keep them on. Or change her into something thinner. She’ll sweat. It will be easier to change her into dry clothes than to try off the mattress and blankets all the time. And that way we can monitor how much she sweats as well.” She hoped it wasn’t a mistake, but Clarke went by a hunch here. “I wish I could make it stop. She doesn’t deserve this. She should be happy. She should sit in the living room and play and learn, not have a fever.” She, Clarke, should not be panicking like that.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Tea. That would work. They could do this. Hope would be alright. Bellamy thought back to when Octavia had been sick. It had been extremely difficult. They didn't have access to tea or even medicine. They didn't have a doctor they could take her to or any of the resources that another child -- a first born or higher class citizen -- would have privilege to. But they had to make do. And they had. O had been healthy; she'd fought her way through each illness.

He was trying to hard to focus on that, but being a dad was different than being a brother, despite his unconditional love for both the females he'd held when they were babies. "Let's get her some then," he stated, needing to do something more than just hold her. He wanted to bring her ease with whatever they had available to them. Fortunately, Clarke handing Hope her plushy and blanket helped as their daughter clutched both things tightly. Before he was going to make his way to their makeshift kitchen, he first went to the nursury where they had all her clothes.

They needed to change her into something thinner, so once Bellamy found a suitable outfit, he brought her back to their room and set her down on the bed. Not being in either of her parents' arms made her crying intensify. "I know, I know, baby girl. It's just for a few seconds." He didn't think he'd ever changed her so fast. He could also check her diaper to ensure she didn't need a change. He then removed her clothing, setting it to the side as his hand touched her chest, before hurriedly putting on the next garment and then promptly putting on a thinner garment before scooping her back up in his arms.

"She should," he agreed as Clarke said what Hope should be doing; what she deserved. Bellamy's voice held the pain of seeing and hearing their duaghter in such pain and discomfort. "She should be laughing and smiling and free from pain." And he felt like a failure not being able to do anything. Physically, he could protect her. But when it was something within her body . . . he felt so powerless. "Let's make that tea," he told Clarke, waiting for her before he headed out of the room to the kitchen, still cradling Hope and trying to calm her crying even just by swaying her a little.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke watched Bellamy with their daughter. She loved them both, but with her daughter being sick and in pain her instincts went crazy. Her instincts were to clutch her baby to her, to protect Hope from anything and everything, but Bellamy had her. She knew his instincts were probably similar. He wanted to hold her and protect her from anything. It was a natural instinct for both parents, who loved their daughter dearly, yet at the same time only one of them could hold Hope. Clarke let him. She had carried her inside her for over eight months, almost nine, so it was okay if he wanted to hold her right now. At least that was what she kept telling herself right now, while she so desperately ached to take her child into her own arms. Clarke watched him change their daughter, sitting on the bed, while doing so. She had her hand placed on Hopes belly, all the while gently rubbing circles on it, hoping to soothe her desperate cries.

Clarke followed her boyfriend and their child into the kitchen. While she didn’t want to take this away from him, she felt slightly good that Hope now held her arms out for Clarke, clearly wanting to be held by her mother right now. Clarke immediately took her into her arms and held her close. Now Bell even had his arms free to make tea for their little princess. Clarke still leaned against him, Hopes tiny feet kicking against Bellamys side. “In the upper cupboard.” Clarke explained. “Montys herbs. We should mix some. Uhm… can you tell them apart?” She could not tell if he knew or not. She had been a bit occupied with her pregnancy and then the newborn in the past months. Looking back she had been a shitty person on more than one way, a shitty friend and an even worse girlfriend, but she was a new mother, her life now revolved around her baby. “I bet she will want to go back to you soon, then to me again. She’ll be cranky all day long. It will be a very long day.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Once in the kitchen, Hope reached out for her mother and Bellamy immediately passed her to Clarke. He knew all too well the bond that a child had with their mother; it was incomparable. He hoped Hope would find as much comfort as she could in her mother's arm while he followed her instructions and opened up the cupboard. He pulled out a small bag and held it up to his nose to smell it as Clarke asked if he could tell it apart. "Yeah, this one's it," he told her confidently.

He set the herbs on the table, feeling comfort in having Clarke lean against him, and even Hope's little feet kicking against his chest. To see and feel his family near always gave him peace . . . though right now, any ease was suspending and instead, feelings of worry dominated his being. He poured some water into a cup before lighting a fire and setting the cup on top of it to heat the liquid. He turned back to Clarke, unable to hide the concern on his face and the pain he felt over his daughter's pain. "Yeah, it will be," he agreed. "But we'll get through it. We got this." Perhaps he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Clarke of it. There was no way to describe the torment of hearing, seeing, and just knowing that your baby was sick.

Once the water was heated, used a cloth to pick up the cup, and proceeded to put the crushed herbs into it, mixing it in and letting it sit for a bit to let the flavor absorb and for the now made tea to cool a little so it wouldn't be too hot for her. "Is she still warm?" He asked, walking towards them and putting his hand on Hope's small cheek. "There's gotta be more we can do." But he knew they were doing it . . . and yet, he still felt so powerless to help her. He reached for the tea, blowing over it for a bit. He held the cup for now but knew it would be easier for Clarke to feed it to Hope at this moment. "Let's sit down," he said, his hand touching Clarke's back as he urged them to the couch.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke knew that giving her the tea would not be her task. She could give her daughter the tea of course, but given how rare it was for Bellamy to get to feed their daughter, she thought this would be his task. If Hope still wanted to be held by her mother after it, they could always switch back. Given how miserable she was, she would probably demand switches very often. Her and Bellamy would most likely spend their entire day switching the baby between them, trying to make it as comfortable as possible for the small life they both loved so much. Still carrying Hope, Clarke sat down with her babys father. Looking at him, she was already going over how to best get their kid into his arms so he could feed her the tea. Thank god for baby bottles.

“Unfortunately there isn’t. Not down here. Maybe the Grounders know something.” Clarke answered. “Bell, you have to understand that this isn’t bad right now. It might turn bad, yes, but right now her having a fever means just one thing: Her body fights. Her body fights against viruses or bacteria so she doesn’t get sick. A fever isn’t necessarily a bad sign. Sometimes people will have a raised temperature and never get sick because the fever already did the trick. As long as she doesn’t get too warm, she should be okay. She’s still getting antibodies from me, too. If we’re all lucky, she will be fine in no time.” If not, then she’d really get worried about her baby. 

“Come on, take your daughter.” Clarke demanded. “I get to feed her so often, I think it’s time Daddy gets to feed her again.” Usually, save for rare exceptions when Clarke had to go be a leader herself, she nursed their kid, but sometimes they had to give her the milk in a bottle. Now it was tea in a bottle. Clarke awkwardly shifted Hope in one arm, took over the bottle, so he could settle their kid before feeding her.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke was explaining that this wasn't bad. That it might get worse. He knew he should prepare for that . . . but he just couldn't downplay the current state of their daughter. As a person he could see and understand the value of her medical perspective. As a father, he just wanted the pain that their daughter was experiencing to miraculously stop. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help it. "It's like you said, she doesn't deserve this. She should be happy, playing, not . . . suffering." And it could get worse. As if it wasn't already bad enough. Bellamy wasn't sure he could handle something worse than this.

"I hope so," he said in a low voice as Clarke reassured him that Hope would be better in no time. He was relying on her medical expertise right now -- despite the fact that Abby had given her own too. Bellamy's trust for Clarke was far greater. Besides, she was the mother of his child. If she said that Hope was going to be ok, then she would be ok. Bellamy held out his arms the second that Clarke spoke of him feeding it. It was a connection that he did not have as frequently or in the same way as Clarke did with Hope. But right now . . . it was as if Clarke had read his mind, for this was exactly what he needed. He took their fussing baby into his arms, cradling her as he got her settled.

"It's going to be alright," he said in a low voice, attempting to calm her. "You're a fighter. And you're gonna fight this off." She had gotten that trait from both her parents . . . making her an exceptional one. Bellamy reached for the bottle of tea, pouring a couple of drops onto his finger to check the temperature and make sure it wasn't too hot. It was cool enough, but not cold. He then proceeded to dip it into Hope's mouth, giving her a little bit at a time as she was unfamiliar with the beverage -- considering this was the first time she had gotten sick. But even Bellamy knew that it wouldn't be the last.

"I don't even know if I freaked out this bad when Octavia had gotten sick on the Ark." That had been a whole different level of stress. They didn't have access to the proper medication, they couldn't let her cry too loud . . . it had been hell. "I hate it. Not being able to take the pain away from her." They could give her the medicines and proper care . . . but he couldn't protect her from getting sick. "At least she's drinking the tea," he said, trying to find a positive, for Hope was suckling from the bottle contently, her fussing had even eased a bit but Bellamy knew that wouldn't last too long.