#it's missing bellamy blake hours... days... weeks... months...

“I could go with you.”

“No, no, don’t you have to work?”

“I can take a sick day,” he kissed your cheek, “for my wife.”

“It’s a simple check up, everything is going to go fine. I can go on my own, thank you though.”

You laid back into Bellamy's arms and next thing you know you were asleep.

When you woke up it was 8am. 2 hours before your appointment. You sat up with a massive headache and you were nauseous, which made no sense. Then you remembered you had been having a lot of nausea lately. You thought maybe it was something you ate, or you’re not drinking enough water. You honestly didn’t know.

You freshened up and got dressed for the day. You went in the kitchen and saw Bellamy made you breakfast, but the smell of it repulsed you. You threw it away and made something else. This was all pretty random to you, you had never been repulsed by Bellamy’s cooking.

Thank goodness you’re going to the doctor, you said to yourself. You got in your car and drove yourself to your doctor's office. There was hardly anyone in the waiting room, which meant they would get to you quicker. You went to sign in and sat down in one of the chairs. The door swung open and a nurse came out.

“(y/n) Blake?” The nurse called.

You got up and walked over to her. She took you to a room and closed the door behind you. She asked you a series of questions like they always do whenever you come. They ran some tests to make sure you were doing well.

Your doctor came in after all of the tests came back. “Everything is all good, but (y/n) you’re pregnant.” Your doctor said and your mouth dropped open.

“I’m pregnant? Wait? Are you sure?” You honestly couldn’t even believe you were pregnant. This was a surprise.

“The urine test doesn't lie, I can give you an ultrasound if you’d like.”

“Yes, please. This is crazy. Me and Bellamy were just talking about having kids the other day and now I’m pregnant? Talk about timing.”

Your doctor laughed and went to get the ultrasound things.

“So can you lift your shirt up and pull your pants down alittle?” The doctor asked and you complied. “It’s going to be a little cold.”

She pressed the transducer down on your skin and a black and white image came up on the ultrasound. She moved around until she found your baby.

“There, that’s your baby.” She said, pointing to a baby shaped blob on the screen. “Let me take a few pictures so you can take them home. From the looks of it, you’re about 9 weeks along.”

She took a few pictures then wiped off the gel and gave you a towel to wipe off the rest of the missed gel.

“I will go get your pictures and then you’re good to go but I would like to see you in a month.”

“Thank you.”

She nods and goes to get your ultrasound pictures. Since this took a little longer than usual Bellamy had started to text you.

Bellamy 2:34pm

Everything alright?

You 2:35pm

Everything is just fine. I’ll be home soon :)

The doctor came back with your pictures and you left. You got in your car and stared at those pictures for a little longer. You were pregnant. You were so excited to tell Bellamy.

Once you got home Bellamy was sitting on the couch watching tv.

“Hey.”

“Hey, how'd it go?” He asked as you walked over and sat down next to him.

“Good, nothing is wrong with me.” You said, smiling.

“I’m sensing a but.” Bellamy said, reading your tone.

“Well. You know how we were talking about kids and we pictured kids in the next 5-10 years of our life?”

“Yes, (y/n), what does this have to do-.”

“Bell, I’m pregnant.” He stared at you, shock written on his face.

“You’re pregnant?” You handed him the ultrasound pictures.

“I’m pregnant. You’re gonna be a dad!” You cheered.

“And you’re gonna be a mom and yesterday we were just talking about having a family.”

“I know!” You and Bellamy glanced at the ultrasound pictures, “I’m about 9 weeks, she said.”

Bellamy wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head. He couldn’t imagine starting a family with anyone else but you.

“We have to go shopping.” He said almost jumping out of his seat.

“We have plenty of time, relax.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated :)

Bellamy Tags: @mogaruke @aurora-manwell @loveslilacs @jbreenr

The realization that you’re starting to forget might be worse than actually forgetting, because the realization is always accompanied by guilt. Sometimes you find yourself smiling, enjoying yourself, and then the memory of Bellamy’s death comes right back to you, sucking the happiness from the moment. But the guilt from forgetting him, from realizing that those lost memories are nearly impossible to get back, it eats at you. Reminds you daily of what Bardo and the disciples took from you. And when you feel yourself forgetting your anger, softening to this planet and these people, Wanlida reminds you.

In a way, you’re not sure you can live without her now. 

Her presence has always been pushed away, buried deep, not wanting to accept that she could be a part of you. But since your arrival on Skyring and Wanlida’s initial takeover, you rely on her to remind you of your anger. You rely on her to remind you of the feral, dark, awful parts of your soul that crave the destruction of Bardo. She keeps your anger sharp and expression blank, like Echo, who condemned you for Wanlida on Skyring, but who now acts just as cold. So much of her was lost when Bellamy died, and at first it brought out the jealousy in you. But as time passed, you started to realize that it wasn’t so much the loss of Bellamy that changed Echo. Sure, his death hardened her heart, but the knowledge that her family is broken, that more of the people she loves are either dying or in danger? That’s what changed her. She is so much like the Azgeda spy you met in Mount Weather, and so little like the woman you called sister on Skyring. It hurts you to see that change in her, though you suspect the others often feel the same way about you.

Your mind also drifts to Clarke, your twin, your other half, the time you’ve spent without her stretching on and on. You wonder if you’ll ever see her again, your time apart now going on five plus years, though it’s felt like less for her. Anders told all of you months ago that he sent a team after her, and that it would take time for them to return to Bardo due to the time dilation, but you’ve never had much trust in Anders. Not since everything he put you through in M-Cap. 

Still, you hope he’s wrong. Because despite missing your sister so much it physically hurts you sometimes, you don't want her here. You don't want her on Bardo, on this damn planet that has either taken people you love or changed them forever. You want her somewhere else, anywhere else, as long as it’s safe and she’s okay. Bardo has been nothing but terrible for you from the moment you arrived, and you don't want that for Clarke. You hope that she’s on Sanctum and she’s happy and at peace. You hope that everyone has learned to get along, and that she is building a compound for the rest of your people, the way all of you were trying to do before everything went to shit. You hope Madi is okay, and that she’s going to school, the way she always wanted to. You miss your bright little sun and her endless hope for the world, because these days, you could use some of her hope.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the morning alarm, and you roll out of bed, dressing quickly for your day, the fifteen minute countdown starting. You make sure your hair is out of the way before you pull on a disciple suit, your disciple suit, given to you this time instead of being stolen from a dead body. It’s comfortable enough, which is good because you usually pull long days, picking up extra shifts where you can. Anything to keep your brain distracted from thinking, or from the memories that threaten to plague you.

As soon as you’re dressed and your helmet is in hand, you push the button on your door and step outside, joining Echo, Octavia, and Diyoza as they come down the hall towards you. All of you keep your expressions mostly blank, only nodding in greeting, aware that someone is always watching in Bardo. All of you were supposed to sever your familial bonds weeks ago, and though you pretended to, none of you actually did. Well, except for Echo. Only in your occasional secret meetings do you interact the way you normally would, though paranoia has made even those few and far between these days.

All of you move down the hall towards the mess hall, the disciple schedule pretty structured and routine. You wake up during the alarm and have 15 minutes to get ready. Walk to the mess hall and have breakfast for 30 minutes. Light training for an hour before going to your assignments for 4 hours. Break for lunch for an hour, more advanced training afterwards for at least an hour. Return to your assignments for the remainder of your shift, then report to dinner. After dinner, there is personal time before it’s lights out. There isn't an official curfew, but it’s generally frowned upon to be out after personal time since they want everyone in the best shape possible for the Last War. The exceptions, of course, are additional training sessions for the betterment of Bardo, or extra shifts picked up to help someone out. Because everything that you do is for all mankind, it’s encouraged to help others. Because helping others is helping everyone, and that’s all they care about here.

As you step into the mess hall, your eyes instinctively search the room, looking for Gabriel. You do it every morning, being careful to be subtle, as you haven't seen him since they dragged you from your shared cell three months ago. You haven't seen him in the halls, and since you’re supposed to be indifferent about him, you can't ask around, leaving you to wonder if he’s okay, or even on Bardo at all. But just like every morning, Gabriel is not among the people dressed in white in the mess hall, leaving you to worry about him, as usual.

You hop in line and grab your meal, some sort of non descript something, designed for energy and efficiency, to meet all of your nutritional needs. It’s not very good, though you guess it isn't awful. It keeps you full until the next meal, and it’s edible, but it makes you long for the days of family meals on Skyring. It even makes you miss Hope’s jellyfish etouffee. Hope. Awaiting her Penance on Skyring, thanks to Echo. How the hell are you going to get her out of this one? 

You shake your head, scrambling your thoughts, not wanting to fall down this rabbit hole right now, because you’ll never get out of it. Instead, you separate from Octavia, Echo, and Diyoza, all of you moving to sit at different tables with different people, appearing not to care about each other. You sit down with a group of level 2s, nodding in greeting before eating your nutrition bar and drinking your nutrition shake. You imagine that it’s something delicious, making it easier for you to get down, tricking your brain into thinking that you enjoy it, just like everything else in Bardo.

As soon as you finish, you stand and return your tray to the line, leaving it to be cleaned, turning just in time to stop yourself from running into Octavia. The two of you apologize, pretending to be strangers, and as you start to move apart, towards your respective assignments, an alarm blares out. 

“Attention all available disciples: please report to Level 8. I repeat, please report to Level 8.”

You and Octavia exchange a look, the request odd, as it sounds urgent. You both immediately start following the wave of other disciples, pulling on your helmet as you go, trying to understand the wave of urgency moving through the crowd. The 8th level. You rack your brain to find the map of Bardo that you memorized years ago, mentally running through the levels until you reach the 8th one. The cryo labs. The Shepherd. 

The man you spent the last few months learning about, whose teachings you had to memorize, resides on the 8th level. And he is only disturbed every few years to be updated on the progress of the Last War before he is returned back to cryo until the next update. But if all of you are being sent to the 8th level, then that means that either something is wrong, or the Shepherd is awake. And as all of you rise in the elevator to the 8th level, you think that maybe both guesses are true. There is a quiet nervousness rustling through the crowd, indicating that this is not something normal, and as the doors slide open to your destination, a sharp intake of breath moves though the disciples around you.

As everyone marches out of the elevator and into the hall, you see why. 

Standing beside Anders is an older man, his hair and beard long, sandals on his feet, you know that only he could be the Shepherd. You only get a glimpse of him as you move by and fall into formation, but when you do, you realize that you recognize him. Something about his face is so damned familiar, though you don't know why. It bothers you as Anders tells all of you that there is a disturbance in the Stone Room, it bothers you as you move down the hall and guard the two men, and it bothers you as you arrive at the one way off of Bardo. And as you stand there, less than six feet behind the Shepherd, you realize that the man in question is Bill Fucking Cadogan. 

Crazed cult leader that built the Second Dawn Bunker beneath the tower of Polis, the man that burned Becca Pramheda at the stake, the man that has been alive since the first Praimfaya, nearly hundreds of years ago, is now standing in front of you. So many questions are running through your mind, primarily ‘how the hell is this possible?’, until you remember Gabriel’s words to you when you first arrived on Bardo, listening to a speech given by Anders. There must be a stone on Earth.

Bill Cadogan found an Anomaly Stone on Earth and came to Bardo. Bill Cadogan took his cult to the next level by delivering them from Praimfaya, into the safety of Bardo. Bill Cadogan stays asleep in cryo for years at a time, waiting for an update on the Last War, so that he can lead Bardo into battle. And if Bill Cadogan is awake and standing in front of you right now, waiting for the doors to the Stone Room to open, that can only mean one thing.

The Key to the Last War is here.

Clarke is here.

As if on cue, the doors slide open. Anders and Bill peer inside, their eyes searching the scene. Clarke is there, along with Raven, Miller, Niylah, Jordan, and Gabriel, weapons pointed Bill’s way. And you have to ignore every cell in your body that is telling you to run to your twin and tell her everything. Because you have a part to play, one you’ve been carefully playing for months, a part that you can't mess up now. You feel someone beside you shift, their glove brushing yours, and you're sure it’s Octavia, her face likely smiling behind her helmet at the sight of Clarke, the same way yours is.

And though you want to run into the Stone Room with her and shut the door behind you, you watch as Bill lifts his hands in surrender, head turning towards the Bardoans trapped in the room. “I’m coming in alone, unarmed.”

Bill starts walking inside, and Raven yells from the back, “Who are you?”

“They call me the Shepherd, but you can call me Bill.” You see his arms drop, though your gaze is focused on Clarke. She is watching Bill closely, realization crossing her features as she remembers the pages of articles Jaha showed all of you years ago, before you knew about Bardo or Anomaly Stones. Bill focuses on Clarke now, directing his plea to her. “You have me. Now let my people go.”

Clarke shakes her head a little, getting a hold of herself, before turning and muttering. “It’s okay.”

All of the Bardoans quickly run from the room, moving out into the hall and away from the confrontation, leaving Gabriel behind with the others. And with a roll of anxiety, you watch the doors to the Stone Room slide closed again, cutting off your view of your twin sister, oblivious to her importance to Bill and his cause.

You stand staring at the door intently, willing it to open, your concentration disturbed by Anders’ low voice. “When that door opens, I want weapons on everyone. Clarke Griffin is not to be harmed, and the Shepherd must be protected. All other occupants can be disposed of.”

The words bring your anxiety crashing back. Though your twin will be safe, the others are not, and you're not sure you can watch them being shot down. Even if it means blowing your cover, you're sure you’ll fight to save them. You don't have to worry for long, because within minutes the door beeps, indicating that it’s being opened, and all of you lift your arms in one swift motion, activating your weapons. You train them into the room, your eyes landing instantly on Clarke, who is standing in the same place, a gun now held to Bill’s head. You smile a little, hoping that maybe all of you will get off this planet after all, when Bill commands, “Weapons down, all of you.”

Without hesitating, you all disengage and lower your arms in tandem, and Anders takes a few steps into the room. Bill turns to look at him, his voice lower. “Send in their friends.”

Without turning around, Anders motions towards the four of you. The crowd parts around you, and Octavia nudges you ahead, into motion. You lead them into the room, standing in front, Octavia and Diyoza standing in a line behind you. Echo stands in the rear, directly behind you, the four of you forming a diamond shape. And as you walk towards Clarke, you take a deep pull of air and calm your breathing, because you know what’s coming. You’re about to take off your helmet and look at your sister as if she’s a stranger, likely breaking her heart in the process. In doing so, it’ll break your own.

You will have to resist every fiber of your being that wants to reach out to her, reassure her, let her know that it’s all a joke, because now isn't the time. It isn't safe. Despite Clarke’s control over Bill right now, a group of disciples is right behind you, ready to attack in an instant, putting all of you at risk. 

As you get closer, everyone is already looking at you in confusion, unsure of what’s going on. You come to a stop a few feet away from them, and Clarke shifts her and Bill closer. In tandem, the four of you reach up and tug off your helmets, moving them into your right arm before dropping your left arm by your side. You keep your jaw set, eyes and expression blank, removing any love or joy or excitement from them. Clarke stares at you in horror, her expression dropping, tears springing to her eyes. You have to glance away, sure that you'll break if you see her cry, your eyes casually raking over the others. They all look just as horrified, just as anxious as Clarke, staring at four people who were their friends and family less than a few days ago. 

None of them realize that you have spent years separated from them, scattered between two planets, forced to break the bonds that united you and made you human. Now, to them, you are machines. Uncaring, unfeeling, blank machines. 

And Clarke Griffin doesn't realize that her la lune is still inside of you, hidden behind this mask. 

She doesn't realize that a small metal moon hangs around your ankle, hidden from the eyes of the people of Bardo, the charm brushing against a ring with a sapphire stone. She doesn't realize that the eyes that are blankly staring at her are hiding a storm of emotions that have cried countless tears for her. She doesn't realize that you have spent months, years, trying to figure out how to get back to her. That you have had to sacrifice and bear so much, and that you understand how heavy her leadership has weighed on her. She doesn't realize the loss you have experienced as you stand before her.

Because when you left her in Sanctum, you left her with Bellamy at your side. 

And now, as you return to her on Bardo, you return alone.

-

It had been a long time coming, her and Bellamy. In the years that they had led side by side, they had borne so much responsibility it was a wonder they were not stooped over under the weight. But they had done it together.

And now, once again with lives in their hands – a list this time, not a lever; ninety-nine names in Clark’s handwriting, and one in Bellamy’s. His voice was gentle, his hand firm upon her shoulder, and when she looked up at him, she wondered why they had never crossed this line with each other before.

So when they did cross it, seconds later, lips soft and open like a promise kept, bodies meeting like hands clasped in prayer, begging an uncaring god that maybe for once, something good could happen to them.

They allowed themselves a moment of happiness, of pleasure, of arching backs and tangled limbs and a low murmur of, “princess.” They hardly had a chance to speak of it afterwards, in the flurry of hope and subsequent disappointment under the looming threat of nuclear apocalypse.

Before they had the chance to express any of the feelings that had burrowed their way so firmly into their hearts that it was like they had always been there, they were separated once again. Bellamy stared at the destruction as they took off, having not only lost his best friend, but also a chance at a maybe that had been on his lips since their first days on the ground.

And Clarke smiled through her tears as she watched her friends escaped the radiated Earth. “May we meet again.”

 Clarke did not realize she was pregnant until she had found the valley. She had first thought it the morning sickness was merely an effect of the radiation in the air, but in a few weeks, it was impossible to deny the bump.

Practically speaking, an abortion would have been best under the circumstances. However, she had neither the experience nor the equipment to do it safely and she had seen the efforts of botched procedures during her training on the Ark.

She had omitted it from her daily calls to Bellamy, although she was not quite sure why. She supposed that if the calls were actually making it through to him, she did not want to cause him to worry.

But she was terrified. While she knew all the practical and theoretical information, her situation was less than ideal. There was no telling whether her Nightblood would be passed on to the child – without which, it could not survive – and she had no way to check anything. What she really wanted was to be able to talk to her mom, but there was no way to.

One day, finally, she broke and grabbed the radio. “Hey, Bellamy,” she said. “If you can hear me, maybe listen to this in private, it’s kinda personal.” She took a breath. “We slept together, like two months ago, which you know… cause you were there.” She sighed, shaking her head. “And now I’m pregnant. And I didn’t want to tell you because you would worry and you can’t really do much from up there, but I can’t contact my mom in the bunker and I really need to talk to someone about it.”

She poured out her heart to the radio, with all the fears she had not dared to say out loud. “I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a mom,” she said finally. “I’ve messed up so many things, Bellamy. I can’t mess this up, because it’s a person. God, this would be so much easier if you were here. I work better with you around: the head and the heart.” She stared at the blue sky. “And you’re great with kids too.” She sighed. “But don’t worry too much about me. I have enough medical training and experience to do this.”

The wind whispered through the trees and Clarke closed her eyes for a moment, trying to picture Bellamy beside her, and imagine what he would say. And while no specific words came to mind, she saw his encouraging look, the silent expression she understood in a heartbeat. “I miss you.”

 Months passed. As she neared what she guessed was the ninth month, Clarke gathered extra food, smoking fish and drying berries to store.

“I guess I should start thinking about names.” Clarke laid on the ground next to the rover. “I knew you’re into Roman history, but I don’t know about having a kid named Julius, or Caligula.” She laughed. “Hadrian’s okay, I suppose. You know what: if it’s a boy, he can be August, like Augustus. If it’s a girl, I pick…” she mused. “Madi.” She smiled. “And then when she’s in trouble, she’ll be Madi Augusta Griffin-Blake. And yes, the child will be hyphenating.”

She stared at the sky, squinting even though she knew she couldn’t see the Ark. “You know, I’m so big now that I can’t even climb on top of the rover anymore.”

 Madi Augusta Griffin-Blake was born on a foggy morning two weeks later, after hours of labour. And when Clarke held her, tears of relief and joy mingling with the sweat on her face, she could not take her eyes off her. Madi blinked in the light of early morning and opened her mouth to cry.

Clarke held her close – gently, because she was so small – and whispered, “Your dad is going to love you and you’ll be so lucky to have him.” A few more tears slipped down her cheeks. “And we’re gonna do everything we can for you. You’re gonna be the thing that I, that we do right.”

Madi was a wide-eyed baby who became an inquisitive toddler – stubborn too, but Clarke managed to handle it. She wanted Madi to know everything she could need to survive on her own. She never said so explicitly, but she remembered being a kid sent down to Earth to die. And no matter what happened to her, Madi had to make it.

So by the time she was five, Madi could bandage a wound, set a bone, and pear fish and start a fire. She also knew the surviving members of the 100 by name, and Raven and Emori. And of course, Bellamy. With her drawings, Clarke ensured that Madi could recognize them – again, with the unspoken intention that if something happened to her, Madi would know who to trust.

She grew up to stories about them, and while she loved to hear them all, her request before bed was always the same.

“Tell me about Bellamy.”

Clarke smiled, sitting on the edge of Madi’s bed. The night was cool, and she snuggled under the blankets. “Bellamy Blake grew up on the Ark, like me. He has a sister named Octavia, who he cares very much about. He is strong and brave and has a really big heart.”

“Clarke,” Madi said sleepily. “When will they come back?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke said. “But they will… eventually.”

 Eventually came about two years later, when Madi was seven years old.

She had grown up in the valley, so even in the dark, she could run through the trees no problem. Ahead of her, figures with guns – three of them. She took out one with her spear and shot the other two. The gun – too big for her, really – gave some kickback, but she was able to handle it.

The three with guns had been ambushing a group of people in the clearing, cast in shadows, but they stood back defensively.

“She’s just a kid,” said one.

Madi stepped out of the shadows and stared – standing in front of her were Clarke’s drawings come to life: Monty, Harper, Emori, Echo, and, “Bellamy?”

They stared back.

“Clarke knew you’d come,” she said. Bellamy looked older than he had in Clarke’s drawings – they all did.

Bellamy spoke first, a slight tremor in his voice. “Clarke’s alive?”

Madi was quickly brought back to reality. “And she’s in trouble, we have to go.”

 Bellamy was not quite sure what to make of this kid. He was making the same calculations in his head that he knew they all were – was he the father? The rover bounced as he drove through the woods, following her directions.

“So what’s your name?” he asked.

“Madi,” she said. “Take a left here.”

“And Clarke is your…?” Harper asked.

“Mom. Clarke is my mom.”

Bellamy nodded. “Does anyone else live here?”

“Not till today,” she said. “Clarke thought it was you guys on that ship – we don’t know who they are.”

“We do,” Monty said quickly. “They’re bad news.”

“We’re getting close,” Madi said, reaching for her gun.

Bellamy stopped the rover in front of Diyoza and her people. “Madi, no,” he said. “Monty, get in the driver’s seat when I get out. When I signal, drive away, keep the kid safe.”

Madi looked like she wanted to protest.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to Clarke.”

 Clarke blinked in the bright headlights of the rover. “Madi, no,” she whispered, but the figure that stepped out was not Madi – much too tall, but familiar.

“I’m unarmed, I just want to talk.”

The voice was as familiar as her own name and for a moment Clarke thought she was dreaming.

“Give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand,” Diyoza said.

“How about I give you two-hundred and eighty-three.” Clarke still could hardly see him, just his silhouette, but there was no doubt in her mind about who it was. “That’s how many of your people are gonna die if you and I can’t make a deal.”

Diyoza shifted and Bellamy raised his arm, signalling the rover to back away. He knew he should be focusing on Diyoza and the various men with guns, but Clarke was right there. All the feelings that he had been trying to get over for the past seven years came rushing back – perhaps they had never left.

“Two-hundred and eighty-three lives for one. She must be pretty important to you.”

Bellamy looked at her, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “She is.”

 Clarke was not dreaming, but a part of this still felt not real. Bellamy’s arms around her, Murphy and Raven’s voices on the radio, it all felt too good to be true.

The bunker was to be opened in the morning, so they had nothing to do for the night. Out of earshot of Diyoza’s people, Bellamy sat down beside her.

In the heaviness that settled in the air between them, Clarke knew what was coming next.

“I met Madi,” he said.

“Is she alright?”

“She’s fine, she’s with the others.” He stared at the wall in front of them and then glanced back at her. “Clarke, is she –?”

Clarke nodded. “Her full name is Madi Augusta Griffin-Blake.”

He smiled. “That’s a lot of name for a little kid.”

“Say’s the guy who named his baby sister Octavia,” Clarke said with a smile.

“Does she know?”

She nodded. “Mm-hm. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

Bellamy was quiet for a moment and then turned to Clarke, a hand on her knee. “You’re amazing, you know that? Raising her all on your own.”

“Well, she’s only seven, she isn’t fully raised yet,” Clarke said, putting her hand over his. “You’re not off the hook yet.”

“Good,” he said. “I don’t want to be.”

Clarke smiled and leaned into him. “I’m so glad to have you back.”

 It was a quiet afternoon – everyone was out and about, exploring the valley, but Bellamy found himself in Clarke and Madi’s house. It was cosy and very lived-in. On the table laid several sketchbooks. Bellamy smiled as he looked through Clarke’s drawings – of all their friends and family, of distinct scenes in their past. That was how Madi knew everything about them.

Not all the drawings were Clarke’s thought, many were Madi’s as well. He was looking at one – an imagined version of the Ark – when he heard the door open.

He turned to see Madi in the doorway. He smiled and held up the drawing. “So you’re an artist too, huh, just like your mom?”

She nodded, coming to stand beside him. “Drawing pictures of her stories made them more real.”

“They’re really good.”

Madi looked at him. “You’re just saying that cause you’re my dad.”

Bellamy shifted awkwardly. “We should probably talk about that.” He crouched so they could see eye to eye. “I know you don’t know me very well, but –”

“But I do,” she interrupted, grabbing one of Clarke’s sketchbooks, flipping through it. “I know about how you and Clarke didn’t like each other at first, and about you and Octavia, and ‘whatever the heck we want.’”

Bellamy smiled.

“And I know about the heart and the head.” She looked over at him. “And you’re my dad and it’s really nice to see you in real life.” She threw her arms around his neck and Bellamy was frozen for a moment before holding her tight.

From the doorway, Clarke smiled at the two of them. Bellamy saw her over Madi’s shoulder, and they shared a look; even after so many years apart, they understood each other. Clarke’s heart was close to bursting with happiness. Her only wish in the past few years had been to see them all together – and here it was right before her eyes.

“Lunch is ready,” she said finally.

Madi turned and smiled. She grabbed Bellamy’s hand, dragging him to the door.

“I’ve got an idea.” Bellamy crouched again. “Piggy-back ride?”

“Are you finished with that meal, or do you want to play with it some more?” he asked Finn with a sigh. They’d been sitting in the saloon for over an hour listening to bad piano playing and listening to the local rabble get riled up. If Bellamy was going to be away from Octavia for so long, he wanted to actually be productive in that time. Finn clearly just wanted to be satisfied.

The long haired man leaned casually back in his chair. “What, you in a rush?”

“Yes, I have a reason to get home.” He didn’t point out that Finn also did, if the letters he reread at night were anything to go by. His impatience was met with indifference.

“Ah, take a load off. That girl of yours will be happy for some alone time away from her big, scary brother,” Finn argued with another swallow of beer.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Bellamy mumbled under his breath. He’d done a good job raising his baby sister, but that meant in no way was she civilized. She was always stealing the pants he’d outgrown and getting into situations that young ladies should not be involved in. He’d been to the sheriff’s office more times to pick her up than to collect on bounties it felt like.

He certainly refused to think about Lincoln who he was sure would find time for Octavia in his absence.

The argument was on the tip of his tongue when the door burst open for a wild looking woman, shocking the saloon into silence. Her brown hair may have been neatly braided a few days ago, but now if was wild and frizzy and windblown in every direction. A wide brim hat had settled around her neck by its string right above a red bandana. Her white shirt was dusty and sweaty, as was the dark skirt riding her hips. All of that would have been enough for Bellamy to declare her some shade of insane had it not been for her face.

She was pretty, uncommonly so for the women Bellamy had seen in these parts. Her nose was set with a regal line and high cheekbones. Her eyes - though hard to make out from the distance - were tight with focus, determination, and - possibly - some sort of lunacy. Those eyes settled on him and he decided to drop the ‘possibly’ from the previous statement. She marched over to their table with a single-mindedness that startled Finn into sitting upright for the first time in weeks.

“Are you Bellamy Blake?” she asked once she came to a stop a little too close to their table. He forced himself not to react to the unexpectedly light voice.

“I am. Who might you be?” he asked. He let his hand carefully hover near the revolver facing away from her. If she planned to attack him for something, he was ready. He almost pulled at it when she dug into the satchel hanging off her shoulder. The hefty coin purse she dropped onto the table was a surprise.

“A client.” Bellamy’s eyes shifted from the purse to the woman. Then back again. And again.

“Please,” he gestured to the empty chairs nearby, “join us.” Some of the noise in the saloon resumed as she fell into the seat with a tiredness that hinted at a multiple day journey, but Bellamy was sure unsavory eyes were still focused on their table. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. This is Mr. Finn Collins, he is working with me for the time being. Might I ask your name?” He waved towards the bar for another drink.

“Alexandria Woods. Mr. Blake, I have been looking for you for four days, I do not have time to dawdle. If you cannot help me, please say so for I am on a time limit and must find someone to help me.” Miss Woods ignored the drink when it was set in front of her on the table. Bellamy had to applaud her focus.

“In general, I have the confidence that I will be able. But I must ask some particulars first.” He leaned in close on his elbows. “What is the time limit and what is the reason for it?”

“Five days; the end of the month. The Wallaces have kidnapped my- my friend as collateral against what they believe the town owes them. They are trying to take control of the mine nearby,” she explained, digging once more in her bag. This time she pulled out a flimsy piece of paper. A photograph Bellamy realized after a moment. That boded well for the money to be made in this job.”This is Jacob Griffin. He was the Sheriff’s deputy. The Wallaces killed him in front of everyone and took his daughter, Clarke, as leverage.”

The photograph was of a good looking family, a proud father, stern mother, and a truly beautiful daughter. Miss Woods pointed first to the man, then to the daughter.

“Wow, dibs when we rescue her,” Finn laughed with a playful punch to Bellamy’s shoulder. He caught Miss Woods tensing her jaw, but something else in the explanation had caught his attention.

“You said the name ‘Wallace’.”

“I did,” she clarified. Bellamy shot a look to Finn (and was relieved to see he’d paid enough attention to catch it) and leaned back in his chair.

“Then keep your money.”

She blanched. “What? No, I-”

“I’ll do it for free.”

“You-” Miss Woods couldn’t seem to find the words. The conversation had taken a turn she was clearly not expecting and she didn’t know how to react to that. “Okay. Thank you. When do we leave?”

“You’re not coming.”

“I am.”

“No.”

“Then I will take my money and the Wallaces’ location with me.” Her eyebrow raised in challenge and Bellamy growled. He couldn’t argue that.

“In front of the church at sun up. If you are late we will be leaving without you.” he decided, downing the rest of his drink. She beamed at him.

“Then I best get my rest.” She stood up from her chair - much less aggressively than when she’d sat in it - and pushed it into the table. She almost began walking away before she remembered the photograph and purse. Thankfully, Finn waited until she was out the door again before hissing at Bellamy.

“‘Free’? What the hell are you thinking? I know it’s the Wallaces, but we still need to get paid. I got debts!” he spat. Bellamy reached for the drink Miss Woods left untouched.

“I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth. We have been on the road weeks looking for a lead when it turns out the lead is chasing us. I want my vengeance now. Consider it her informant fee.” Bellamy downed it in one gulp.

“I like vengeance and money,” Finn said sullenly.

“Mr. Collins, if a woman if going to chase me through the Blistering West of this great nation all the way from her dinky mining town just so she can pay me to rescue her friend, she probably needs that money more than we do. In this circumstance, you must be satisfied with only one.”

~

Bellamy trudged out from the inn just before the skies had changed from their mess of pink hues into the calm, smooth blue of the early morning. Sleeplessness clung to his limbs and made his steps heavy and slow. He’d never been quite close enough to his goal, not in 15 years, and he could taste it. He was almost able to live the life he’d promised Octavia when she was young. Just them, a farm and no one else. No more killing, maiming, or murder. There was no way he could miss it.

“Good morning, Mr. Blake.” Either he was more exhausted than he thought or Miss Woods was stealthy in ways he never expected. She stood just outside of the inn, her horse reigned and saddled. She herself looked for more put together than she had the previous night. The dust and sweat she’d accumulated from her search had been washed away. Her shirt was now a navy blue and her hair had obviously been brushed to perfection and then neatly tied into a braid. The bandana and the look of absolute seriousness had stayed.

“Miss Woods. Glad you will be able to join us. You seem to me like you are ready to go,” he said, tipping his hat and turning towards the stables next door.

“I am. I promised you, I would not be left behind.” He could feel her hesitation as he opened his horse’s stall to ready him. “Is...Mr. Collins not coming?” Bellamy hid a grin behind his horse’s thick neck. Her hope was palpable and, while shared, not great for the idea of the three of them being stuck together for the next few days.

“Oh he is, he will crawl out from his crevice in the ground shortly, of that I am sure. He always seems to.” No sooner had he said so, than the man himself stumbled into the stables, clearly heavily hungover and smelling foul. Bellamy shot a sarcastic grin to Miss Woods. “Speak of the devil.” She huffed in disappointment and left them to finish preparing.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Finn murmured as he tended to his own horse. Bellamy could only laugh.

Saddling their horses was only the matter of a few minutes and then they led the animals out of the stable, dropping a few coins into the hands of the stable master as they went. The moment Miss Woods caught sight of them, she swung onto her own horse and turned westward.

“Lead the way, ma’am.” And lead she did. They set off at a steady pace. Bellamy was sure his and Finn’s horses could handle it, but Miss Woods’s thick draught horse was only just managing. It was a beautiful white spotted mare, but why would she take a horse like that on this kind of journey? Maybe he wasn’t too far off the mark when he’d guessed about her money issues the night before.

“I need to slow down,” thankfully Finn’s condition saved the day, “I am not awake enough to be at this pace for too long. Also, the pair of you made me miss breakfast. I would be fine for a journey such as this if I had breakfast.” His complaints could just be heard over the sound of hooves slowing down to accommodate his pounding head and dry mouth. An apple flew past Bellamy’s face into Finn’s. He bobbled with it a moment before he finally had a firm hold of it. He nodded appreciatively to Miss Woods before biting down. Bellamy decided to take advantage of the situation.

“Miss Woods, How far is it to the Wallaces’ location? Do you know how many men they might have?” he asked.

“Their compound is about a day and a half’s ride from our starting point. I know it to be large, but the number of men,” she shook her head, “I don’t know for certain. It could be anywhere from thirty to sixty. They employ men on a rotating basis. Though, I am sure, if they need them all, they will have them all.” Bellamy frowned. Sixty was an exceptional number. So was thirty, but thirty - with good planning and careful execution - was doable. By the time they arrived to the compound they would have only three days to prepare. It was tight, but Bellamy Blake was good at his job.

“What about you, Miss Woods?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have a secret weapon or skill that will make this all suddenly very easy?” From this speed and distance it was easy to see the way her face tinted pink.

“If I had the skills or experience necessary for this task, I would have saved myself the trouble of finding you and gone myself. I can shoot a rifle, but I have not had as much practice as I would prefer. I will do whatever I can to help, Mr. Blake, make no mistake about that.” He shifted his gaze from the road ahead and found her jaw steely. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and would do everything in her power to obtain it.

“I would never make that mistake, Miss.” The ride from that point was mostly quiet. Finn made all kinds of noise once he finished his apple; singing, chattering about a woman from the previous night, how many men he would kill in the compound. Both Bellamy and Miss Woods flat out ignored him and it became clear he was only speaking to himself. Thankfully, by the time they’d picked up the pace again, he was hard to hear. Bellamy did not mourn it.

As they sky darkened, his eyes scanned the horizon for a decent enough camping spot. They eventually found one and set about bunking down for the night. After the horses had been settled, the campfire made, watches established, and dinner eaten, they let themselves relax. Finn fell asleep in minutes. The silence of the camp was broken with the snapping fire and the distant bugs. It was not uncomfortable.

“Mr. Blake, may I ask you a question?” Miss Woods asked after a considerable amount of time. He shrugged.

“You may.”

“Why did you refuse my money, but accept my job?” Bellamy could see now over the fire that her eyes were a shade of green that could almost pass for grey in certain light. An unusual woman indeed.

“Seemed to me like you needed it more than we did,” he replied.

“Then why accept? What is it about the Wallaces that lit a fire under you?” He grimaced at her wording.

“It will surprise you, I think, to learn that I was once married. Echo and I - that was my wife - lived with my mother and my baby sister. It was a good life. One I’d like to return to one day. Our town had a mine as well, and like yours, that attracted some rich people who only wanted to get richer. They got violent and started burning houses of those who did not want to sell their land. My mother had been born in that house and was one of those. My sister and I had been out on an errand. When we got back, all that was left was ashes. Turns out Dante Wallace had lit our house himself.” His speech met the air with quiet, as if the cicadas and grasshoppers and paused to hear his story.

“I am sorry to hear that.” Miss Woods’s voice was softer than he’d heard it before. He shrugged.

“Finn has a similar story. Both parents and girlfriend who can now never walk right again. It’s heartbreaking, but it ain’t special.”

“That does not make it unimportant. I lost someone close to me as well. Her name was Costia. If it weren’t for Clarke, I-” she sighed and shook her head, “I would never have moved on. I would never have stopped surviving and started living.” Bellamy looked at her. Is that what he’d been doing? Surviving? Likely. In the years since he left after the fire, he’d seen Octavia only a handful of times and each time she was so vastly different from the previous. He did a good job raising her, not being present.

“Maybe I should try that,” he wondered. “This Clarke sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.” That earned a laugh and he was almost startled by the sound of it. So joyful a sound out of so serious a person.

“Don’t tell her that. She will become insufferable. She is wonderful, but she is often pig headed.” Miss Woods’s smile changed to something more far off as her gaze was lost in the fire.

“Why are you putting yourself through this for her?” Bellamy asked.

She sighed again. “Besides knowing she wouldn’t have even stopped to find help if our situations were reversed? Do you remember when I said the Wallaces killed her father, the deputy?” She waited long enough for a confirmation before moving on. “It was because of Clarke in the first place. She has been their most vocal opponent in town. Last week. Cage Wallace came into town personally and tried to intimidate everyone into finally submitting and Clarke went right up to him and told him to leave. Her father was trying to protect her. He agreed of course and was on her side, but we all know what kind of men the Wallaces are. He hoped to spare her from harm. It is debatable on whether or not he succeeded,” she mused. Bellamy furrowed his brow. She seemed more headstrong than anything. His question didn’t really feel answered.

“I need you to understand, Mr. Blake. I am not well-liked back home. People have found all manner of justifiable reasons to cast me out of their own lives. Not once has that mattered to Clarke beyond yelling at people who were maybe a little disagreeable to me. There is nothing I would not do for her.” The serious quality of her voice took a new edge to it and the fire in her eyes was more internal. Bellamy believed her.

“Then we will bring her home,” he promised.

~

After another early start, this time with a more mellowed Finn, they reached their destination when the sun was highest in the sky. They tied their horses a little bit away and then found an old dried out tree to crouch behind. The compound was almost ugly. That was the only way Bellamy could think to describe it. The paint was chipping, the structure was unappealing, and it seemed entirely unattended to. Strange for men who probably had more money than decent. Finn pulled out a spyglass and carefully scanned the compound.

“I’d need higher ground to confirm, but looks like there’s about 40 to 50 of these bastards. Most have one revolver and one lever action. Only a few have more. There looks like a nice ridge to the north with some green cover where we can park Miss Woods with a rifle. A couple of possible entry points. Dunno, need a better angle,” he murmured as he looked. Bellamy scratched down each note in a small notebook he pulled from his breast pocket, humming and grunting all the while.

“Horses?”

“Only seeing six.”

“Wallaces?”

“Neither in view.”

“Large windows?”

“Top floor to the east.”

“That’s likely to be the office for at least one of them. Is there a spot we can corral the men?”

“Maybe somewhere behind the building. Can’t see. We could make a diversion a mile or so away that only trips once we are far enough.”

“If we can find green branches, sure.” Bellamy wrote each thought and possible strategy down while firing more at Finn. The two went back and forth for another ten minutes before backing slowly away and going around to the ridge Finn had spotted earlier. The new view helped him answer some of Bellamy’s earlier questions.

“What do you think, Miss Woods? This a range you can handle?” Finn asked as Bellamy wrote.

“I will make it work.” That determination leaked out of her again.

“You ever kill a man before?”

“Finn,” Bellamy called out in warning. The man had little tact, but Miss Woods had done nothing to earn his derision.

“I aim to have one novel experience a day.” Bellamy’s head shot up. Finn’s face was long in surprise and startled amusement.

“Well okay, Miss Woods,” he laughed. “Let’s get you another novel experience and set up camp outside a criminal compound.” Bellamy finished his notes and together they found a spot far enough away that their smoke would not attract attention. The afternoon was spent running possible scenarios and brainstorming. Even Miss Woods contributed an idea or two. After dinner, Bellamy pulled his hat over his eyes and leaned against his saddle to sleep.

“You know Miss Woods,” he heard after a long silence, “you’re not bad.”

“You’re not quite terrible either, Mr. Collins. I might even pay you once this is over.” Finn’s laugh followed him to sleep.

The morning was fraught with frenetic energy. It would be a long day consisting almost entirely of observation, but Bellamy figured the fact that they were there and preparing set everyone’s nerves on high. Miss Woods was more still than he’d ever seen her and Finn had started to get that look in his eye that was a precursor to all of his raids. The three of them laid out on top of the ridge they’d discovered and went through each idea from the night before. Some, they were able to dismiss outright, but others proved their viability.

“We would need at least three of them to bite for it to work,” Bellamy argued. Finn  shook his head.

“Two would make enough of a disturbance-”

“How are we supposed to find Clarke?” Miss Woods’s soft voice cut through the conversation. “We do not, at this moment, know where she is being held.” She was right, Bellamy noted, looking down at his book. With a frown, he reached for Finn’s spyglass.

“How sure are you that they want her alive?” he asked. Miss Woods hesitated before answering.

“I’m confident, but not enough to stake her life on it.”

“That may have to be enough.” He handed back the spyglass and jotted another sentence down in his book.

“Pardon? What do you mean?” Miss Woods’s alarm was almost endearing.

“Smoke ‘em out?” Finn asked.

“Smoke ‘em out.”

“Now just a minute here.” The men ignored her as she became increasingly nervous at the prospect of just setting a fire in the hopes that criminals cared enough to pull out her friend. But Bellamy knew he was good at his job and didn’t let her shock and disbelief bother him.

“Finn, I need you to go and find green wood. A lot of green wood. Enough for the distraction and smoking out,” he instructed. Finn offered a quick salute and disappeared from the ridge. “Miss Woods, I need you to trust me. This is an enemy I know and a job I perform well in. You came to find me. I will rescue Miss Griffin, just as I said.” The odd colored eyes shadowed just long enough for Bellamy to catch her fear.

“If I must.”

“High praise,” he scoffed. She shrugged and sighed.

“I trust that you are my best hope at success. Mr. Collins is...not ideal, but he has proven in the past two days that he is capable. If you are able to rescue Clarke, I will not stand in the way of your revenge,” she promised.

“If we are not able?” he asked, curiosity nipping impatiently at the back of his head. He knew the question was a mistake when she leveled him with the most blank stare he had ever seen.

“That is not an option, Mr. Blake.” Her word on the subject was law and he was not about to break it. Good thing he was a man of the law.

“That’s settled. Tell me if you can see any men through that window there.” They continued on as if nothing had changed, because really, nothing had. No one’s stance had been revealed to be anything other than initially thought and no threats were made. A successful conversation as far as Bellamy was concerned.

Finn came back after a few hours. He had found - somehow - more than enough for what they’d need. He’d set a large pile where they’d planned the day before and brought brought back more to their campsite. The afternoon was spent narrowing down their plan until it was one that they all agreed on and knew backwards and forwards. Bellamy didn’t stop quizzing them until long after everyone was in their bedrolls and half asleep.

The air when they woke was thick with tension. It was different than the previous morning in that everything had become real over night. The plan they had settled on was happening today and not being ready had real life consequences. They broke down camp and prepared their horses for quick departures. Bellamy went over the plan again as they worked.

“If you run out of ammunition or your part is done or you have Miss Griffin, get out, leave. Two hours east of here we passed a rock formation. We will meet there. If you’re not there in two days, we assume you are dead. Understood?” He waited for agreement before hauling himself up onto his horse. “Okay. Shoot straight. Stay out of sight. Good luck.” And they separated.

Bellamy circled around and hitched his horse out of sight, yet not far enough that he couldn’t sprint to it. He took position and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, a plume of thick, black smoke rose from the horizon. He watched some of the men begin to take notice and point it out to one another. Eventually enough of them noticed the potential security threat that someone who was clearly in charge, ordered the horses to be taken to investigate. Bellamy grinned. All of the horses was even better than the two he’d expected.

He waited again, watching the horses and riders disappear into specks in the distance. This time he kept his eyes on the compound itself and was rewarded when another thick stream of smoke began to rise from the basement. Slowly, the inhabitants of the house trickled out, each coughing more than the last. He took careful stock of each one, but didn’t see a head of blond hair or the two men he’d sworn to kill.

The three of them came out last. Dante Wallace strode out, irritation written into his very and step. His son, Cage, seemed half dressed and gripped the back of Miss Griffin’s dress as he stormed out, just about dragging her behind him. He threw her to the ground and began shouting at his indifferent father. Bellamy took the opportunity to shift closer to the compound. He still couldn’t hear what was being said, but he didn’t need to. A man stood two feet in front of him, back turned. The others would be waiting on him now, and all he had to do was act.

So he went to work, silently taking out those he could with a knife and hiding the bodies in the brush or just around the corner of the compound walls. Finn should have been doing the same on the other side and he honestly thought they could take out everyone in that way when a shot echoed through the valley. He froze, glanced up at Miss Woods, but instead, found a man looming over him, gun pulled, red spilling from a shot on his neck.

And then all hell broke loose.

He was in the open now, fielding shots from his aware enemies. Every now and then, a shot would ring louder than the rest and a man he hadn’t seen would collapse to the ground. Bellamy had to laugh. ‘Not had as much practice as I would prefer’ indeed. Finn seemed to fly in from no where and tackle a man to the ground with a knife in hand and then popped back up instead with a revolver. The hectic noise and adrenaline sharpened Bellamy’s focus so he could easily count the remaining men (7) and land a single shot on each of them before silence rang out.

He could hear simpering and rose from his hiding place. Finn held the Wallaces at gun point while ignoring the bullet wound to his arm. His eyes glinted again, more severe than two morning’s previous. Now they looked liked jewels reflecting in a tropic sun, promising, promising. He’d shot each of then in a knee to prevent escape. Dante clearly took it better than his slobbering son.

“Dante and Cage Wallace. My name is Bellamy Blake, I am a US Marshall. You will be delivered to justice.” The script felt different than it usually did. Maybe because this time he really meant it. Dante laughed.

“You really think either of us will go to prison, son? After all you did here today? I will not, stupid, boy,” he cackled. Bellamy cocked his head to the side dramatically.

“Prison? I do not recall saying that word. I said justice. Have at it, Finn.” The screams that followed would join the rest of his nightmares, but, in them, he would find satisfaction.

~

Bellamy wiped the blood from his hands and knife as he and Finn turned from the bodies on the ground and towards the bound, blond woman who watched them from underneath an unused cart. Her blue eyes were vivid in rage and fear, so Bellamy dragged Finn to a stop a little farther away than he would have normally.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Are you Miss Clarke Griffin, daughter of Deputy Sheriff Jacob Griffin?” he asked as he crouched to be eye level with her. The mistrust in her face turned to confusion.

“I am. Who are you?” Her voice was raspy. He imagined a combination of disuse and screaming would do that to a person.

“I am US Marshall Bellamy Blake, this is my associate, Finn Collins. We have come to retrieve you and bring you home,” he explained. At the sound of his name, Finn plastered on an overly charming grin and took a step towards her. She immediately flinched back. “Are you hurt?”

Eyes flickering between the two of them, she shook her head. “They tied me up and threw me in a basement. Nothing but neglect here.” Bellamy nodded and gestured to her bound hands.

“Do you mind if I...?” He pointed to the ropes and she shook her head. Bellamy edged Finn out of the way and carefully ripped through the bonds with his now clean knife. “My horse is just beyond those trees there, can you walk?” he asked, gesturing to the direction he’d left his horse. Miss Griffin frowned.

“I do not believe so. My whole body is shaking. My knee do not feel quite strong enough.”

“May I carry you, then? It isn’t far, and  if you want to try yourself, I will happily put you down.”

“Please.” He nodded and carefully scooped her into his arms, one beneath her knees and the other around her back. She looped a tired arm over his neck and let herself relax against him.

“Finn, take what you want from here, I will see you at the meeting place,” he called out as Miss Griffin settled against him.

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice.” Finn gave him a sharp nod and disappeared into the smokey compound. Bellamy turned in the direction of his horse and began walking. He felt Miss Griffin’s head lay against his shoulder, then her hand against his chest.

“Mr. Blake,” she murmured, “thank you for saving me.” Bellamy was struck in that moment by how beautiful she was, even so tired, dirty, and weak.

“It was no burden to me.” He carefully hefted her into the saddle of his horse, checking all the while that she was secure and would not fall off. Then he swung himself up behind her and maneuvered the horse towards their meeting place. Miss Griffin was silent nearly the entire ride, her weight reassuring against his chest. She was clearly conscious which made his job considerably easier and lessened his urgency. The rock formation where they were meeting had just come into sight when she did speak.

“Mr. Blake, is there any news of my town? Have they hurt anyone else?” she asked. The rasp in her voice hadn’t really changed, so Bellamy first reached for the water skin on his saddle and held it out for her.

“I have heard nothing since you have been taken, no,” he answered. She sighed, relieved.

“Thank goodness.” They rode into the spot only minutes later and for a moment, Bellamy was nervous. Miss Woods’s draught horse was no where in sight. He slipped silently from the saddle and then helped Miss Griffin do the same.

“Stay close to the horse,” he said, pulling one of his revolvers from his belt. A shape shot out from a crevice in the rocks, the clear shape of a raised rifle. Bellamy’s own revolver was up and aimed before his brain registered Miss Woods, bleeding from a cut under her eye. The adrenaline caught up and both dropped their weapons.

“Mr. Blake, I am glad-” Miss Woods began to sag against the rock behind her when a shape flew past Bellamy’s peripheral vision. Miss Griffin, with all her exhaustion, threw her arms around Miss Woods with abandon. She could clearly barely hold herself up, but Miss Woods dropped the rifle without a second thought and clasped her arms around the woman in her arms, all but holding her up.

“Lexa, what are you doing here? Are you bleeding?” Miss Griffin pulled back just enough to caress the skin below the injury with her thumb. Miss Woods seemed startled by it.

“I must be. One of the men found where I was hiding and we had an altercation.” The explanation seemed lack-luster, but if she was mostly unhurt, that was fine for Bellamy, though, the soft nickname from Miss Griffin caught him by surprise. The blond clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“You idiot,” he raised an eyebrow at the affectionate insult, “you should have just left me.” Miss Woods’s face went impossibly soft at that and Bellamy came to think maybe he shouldn’t be present for this conversation.

“You know I would never.” And then she dipped her head and kissed her. A lot of things suddenly made no sense and complete sense. He turned around to give them some privacy and to give his brain a hell’s chance at catching up. He walked a little back the way they’d rode in just in time to see Finn and his horse grow bigger on the horizon. Finn’s smile took up the entire real estate of his face and the sound of coin in his saddlebags was the only explanation Bellamy needed.

“Ho! Did well on my scavenge. I think I found damn near $6,000. Since you decided Miss Woods does not need to pay for our services, you and I will do a fifty fifty split. We can count after dinner,” he finally hopped off his horse and looked around, “the ladies well?” he asked.

Bellamy hummed. “Let’s give them a little time to catch up alone.”

~

They set off again before nightfall just to put a little extra distance between themselves and the compound. They’d only distracted a group of them and no one knew if they would be on the hunt for their employers murderers. Granted, they had no real clues as to who that would be, but it was better to be safe than sorry. They made camp far later than they would have normally and Bellamy sent Finn off to do a quick hunt.

He wasn’t gone long, but it gave the women enough time to settle in. They’d shared the draught horse and now shared a bedroll, their bodies in some constant ind of contact as they made themselves ready. Finn wasted no time in falling asleep after eating so Bellamy spent his time cleaning his weapons and watching Miss Griffin tend to the cut on Miss Woods’s face. There was an obvious tenderness and familiarity there that he wasn’t sure he ever even reached with Echo. The insistence behind the words Miss Woods spoke each time she was sure they would rescue Miss Griffin put things into perspective, as did Miss Griffin’s question about the safety of her people.

Eventually, the day - or week - caught up with Miss Griffin and she fell asleep into Miss Woods who was half propped against her saddle behind her. Her fingers played with the golden strands and the smile on her face matched the interactions he’d caught between them. It was heart warming, to know he played such a role in getting them back to each other. Miss Woods’s eyes flickered up to meet his. He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows at the woman in her arms. Her face went pink, but her smile grew.

~

The town was no different than when Bellamy had left it months prior. Still half broken down with people who cared less about the buildings and more about their neighbors. His own house was a little more spruced up than he remembered. New shutters, patched roof, painted door. It made sense when he drew closer and found Lincoln sitting in a chair on the porch opposite his sister. He held a book in his hands and a soft smile on his face. Octavia’s was much the same and Bellamy couldn’t help but think of the two women he’d just escorted home. 

“My, my, you’ve grown,” he called out when he was close enough. Octavia’s face whipped over to him and the rest of her body followed soon afterward, trapping him in a hug the moment his feet touched ground. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed in the familiar scent of her, the scent of home.

“Welcome back, big brother. How long are you here for?” Bellamy pulled back and made a show of looking for his US Marshall badge.

hold me in your beating heart by amberwoods

He’d got out of bed and walked to the nursery to console his youngest child. When he’d been shushing and cradling her for about twenty minutes, he noticed a silhouette hovering in the door opening. Clarke.

“I’ve got her,” he’d said softly, his voice rough with sleep, “Go back to bed.”

She just stood there. When he took a closer look, he noticed she had a strange expression on her face. She was looking at Madi.

“Clarke?” he asked carefully.

~

And There’s a Hand My Trusty Friend by Who_Needs_Reality

He sighs dramatically. “Can’t believe you’re not gonna let me kiss you until next year.” That sends a sudden, sharp jolt of sadness through Clarke, the realisation that they’re going to be spending another day spent pretending that she’s not his; it means ushering in their first year together… by, well, not being together.

Or, {NYE fluff where Bellamy and Clarke are together, but since they're keeping it a secret from their friends, they run into an unforeseen complication.}

~

A Little Bit of Something (God, It’s Better Than Nothing) by @grumpybell

“-Clarke.” He sounds alarmed, suddenly, none of the casual, arrogant, amusement that had been in his voice moments before. “What?” “Why is your mom calling me?” “Shit. Don't answer that. Listen, okay. She and I kind of got into an argument today-” “-what else is new?” “Shut up. Anyway, she told me she's getting married and there was just so much subtext about my failure at relationships and my lack of love life, and I might have told her I'm engaged too.” There's silence on the other end of the phone. “To you,” Clarke prompts.

~

I Don’t Need Your Love (I Just Need You Now) by @talistheintrovert

“What was the worst part?” Raven asked.

“Probably when he shoved me against a wall and stuck his tongue down my throat,” Clarke admitted, sipping her hot chocolate, which she quickly realised was spiked with rum. God, her friends were perfect.

Octavia and Raven both gasped, but it was Bellamy’s reaction that she found the most interesting. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look up from his book, or even alter his expression, but his hand balled into a fist on the arm of his chair.

OR: The AU where Clarke and Bellamy hate each other until Bellamy realises she's being mistreated, and does his best to protect her.

~

Come Close (And Then Even Closer) by sheryl_sems

Clarke thinks about Octavia and how her best friend had stormed out of the house earlier that day, furious at Clarke for taking her brother's side in their argument. She thinks about Raven, and Monty, and Jasper, and Wells, and Lincoln but in the end, she really only wants one person by her side and it's fruitless to fight herself on this one.

"Could you call Bellamy?" She finally says in a soft, hoarse whisper.

Or the one where Clarke is attacked and the only person she wants by her side in the aftermath is Bellamy Blake.

~

You Look Like a Movie. You Sound Like a Song. by lordmxrphy

She knows shouldn’t care. She and Bellamy were never together. They never dated. But for as long as Clarke can remember, Bellamy’s held her heart. Even if he’ll never know it.

(a modern au inspired by when we were young by adele)

~

What We Do to Each Other by marauders_groupie

A Bellarke AU in which Bellamy and Clarke are childhood best friends, separated by life and trying to relearn each other again.

~

A Symbol of Goodwill And Love by LayALioness

“So when you said we need a good tree, you meant,” he hedges, and she huffs, little clouds of steam escaping her mouth.

“One that needs a good home,” she says, like it’s obvious. “Shopping for a Christmas tree is like going to the pound—you don’t look for a purebred at the pound, Bellamy. You look for the puppy with a missing eye, or mange. One that needs us.”

“If this is code for wanting us to get a puppy,” Bellamy muses, reaching out to tug on the tassels of her hat. “I think we should probably live together, first.”

~

We Have to Stop Meeting Like This by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Tumblr prompt: “We both have friends who party too hard and we keep running into each other in the bathroom while we hold their hair back.”

Aka, the three times Bellamy and Clarke meet each other while taking care of their friends + the one time they don’t.

~

Christmas Sweaters by lightyears

Clarke's upset that she won't fit into her Christmas sweater this year. Bellamy surprises her with a new one.

~

Ladylike by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy stares at her. "You want me to make out with you. Platonically."

Clarke very resolutely does not panic. "Do it for the views, Bellamy."

(Or, an AU in which Clarke works for a Buzzfeed-esque company, and has to kiss someone in order to test lipstick durability for a new video. Feelings and decidedly non-platonic nonsense ensue.)

~

Love Is Not a Victory March by @asroarke

“You could have been here four years ago,” she reminded, raising her eyebrows at him.

“No, I couldn’t have. I needed to be here with you,” he replied, and Clarke felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. It wasn’t the first time he said something like that, of course. But it caught her off guard every damn time.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes, you were,” he replied, and how could Clarke not kiss him after that?

Olympics AU where a knee injury kept Bellamy and Clarke from making it to the Olympics... the first time around.

~

the tie that binds me to you by glowinghorizons

“we’ve been pen pals for like hella months and we finally decided to meet up and damn you’re cute, also did you break up with your jerk bf/gf yet?” au

or:

bellamy and clarke finally meet after months and months of hand-written letters, phone calls and text messages.

~

you bring me honeysuckle by caramelle

It suddenly strikes Bellamy, one day, that his girlfriend is in possession of what has to be the best hair in the entire cosmos.

Or, the one where Bellamy's fixation with Clarke's hair is totally normal and healthy.

~

Walk With Me by arysa13

Bellamy is pretty sure you aren't supposed to hit on the people you're supposed to be getting home safely, but he kind of wants to anyway.

Prompt: Bellamy works at safe walk and Clarke keeps falling asleep studying. And is the last one to leave the library every night!

~

Sugar, Spice, and All Things Nice by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke just really wants a peppermint mocha. Breaking into the apartment of her ex, with whom she may-or-may-not still kind of be madly in love, is an unplanned side effect. Mostly.

Based on the prompt "listen i know i can’t just show up at your apartment at six in the morning but i need coffee and no one makes it like you do”

~

time flies but you’re the pilot by @onemanbellarmy

“Wait a minute, your new art teacher is Clarke Griffin?”

Gus paused to consider. “I think so?”

A huff of a surprised laugh escaped Bellamy. He hadn’t talked to Clarke since college.

(or, single parent x child's teacher AU)

~

the girl next door by funfanfin

The first time he hears her, he’s making his grandmother’s afritada recipe, a dish that reminds him of long, lazy, hot summers in the Philippines.

The first time he learns her name is on a Tuesday so ordinary and average he wouldn’t have remembered it otherwise.

The first time he realizes he loves her is during the early hours of a cool morning, with her curled into his side.

-OR-Bellamy hears singing from the apartment next door. It isn't long before he meets the girl behind the smoky, haunted voice, and it isn't long before he learns the reasons for her sorrow-filled singing.

~

only fools rush in by @chants-de-lune

based on the tumblr prompt:

"just drove a guy home from a bar and for the whole 15 minutes he talked about how excited he was to see his wife"

~

the fuzziest of woodland creatures by tempestaurora

“it’s 2 in the morning and i was just trying to get home but i left my sunroof open all day and now there’s a squirrel in my car and it scared me and i drove into a pole – would you please stop laughing you’re a cop. you’re supposed to be helping”

~

Settling Debts by indygoh

"Um. Thank you. You didn't have to," she peeked up at him, suddenly shy for some reason. "I can pay you back."

Bellamy just chuckled, already shaking his head before she could finish her sentence.

"I've got a little sister. She probably would have kicked my ass if she found out I didn't do something to help you out back there."

Clarke raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you always rescue strange girls in desperate need of tampons?"

"Only the really cute ones with crowns on their butts."

~

when love hits (better make it worth the fall) by kay_emm_gee

Summary: Four times Clarke gets hit on the head (+1 time she doesn't) during her last semester of high school, and every single time, Bellamy Blake is somehow involved.

~

Turn the tide on my losing side by Lalalli

Clarke doesn’t know why Thelonius Jaha keeps posting really random shit to her Facebook wall, but whatever. It’s fine. It was weird at first, but she’s used to it now.

And then Bellamy gets involved and it gets weird again.

~

My Soft Place to Land by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy's happy to be back. He's even happier to see who's waiting for him.

{Or, soldier!Bellamy comes back home after being deployed and meets someone special}

~

We Keep it a Secret (You Leave Me Dying to Know) by @ringsabellamy

Bellamy doesn’t claim to be the greatest at dating, especially considering he’s been quietly in love with his best friend for the past six years, but hey, at least he’s been /trying/ to get over her. Not, of course, that this current situation is helping.

Or: Bellamy just asked Clarke to fake being his girlfriend for one date, honest. But then things got a little...out of hand.

~

If You Like Your Coffee Hot by marauders_groupie

They haven't been friends for a very long time but Bellamy still can't ignore Clarke acting out and getting into fights when she was a model student just a few months ago. They might’ve kept each other at distance for years but she is still his first best friend.

~

Calm my tears, Kill these fears by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Prompt: I somehow always get you as a cashier at Walmart and it's always when I’m buying the weirdest shit at the weirdest time. “A head of lettuce at 3am?” "It's a long story”

~

bit of a disaster, aren’t we? by katsumi

Clarke breaks her ankle and really would prefer that Bellamy not find out about it. She has a feeling he's going to get mad. (She's right.)

~~~

CANON-VERSE AUS

Meet Me in the Morning by monroeslittle

“I guess one of us is messed up,” he said, “and it’s part of our hallucination that the other is, too.” He paused. “Seems appropriately hellish that my mind sticks me with you.”

She pursed her lips. “Likewise.”

AU. Clarke is trapped in a stupid time loop, and guess who's trapped with her?

~

I Miss Our Little Talks by @chants-de-lune

“Wow,” she breathed out. “I thought that one would have done me in.”

Bellamy didn’t smile, shaking his head and taking the slightest edge of coldness off his glare.

“You took a bullet for me.” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t ever do that again.”

~

Today is Dying by theprincessandtheking

“Look, sorry, but it’s an emergency,” Harper said, eyes firmly fixed on the wall ahead of her.

The tea he’d downed at the bar was still in his system, as evidenced by the way the room spun when he reached for his shirt a few feet away and struggled to pull it over his head.

“So much of an emergency that you couldn’t knock?”

“It’s Clarke.”

~

That I Will Never Escape by @talistheintrovert

“Execute me; I poisoned you. Let Clarke live."

“Very well,” Octavia raised a hand and a soldier with a gun pointed it down at him. He steeled himself for the bullet that would end his life, but before it left the chamber, Clarke yelled out.

“No!”

He jumped, surprised, when she moved suddenly, and he registered in his periphery as she snatched the sword from the floor and spun it in her hand deftly.

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Bellamy frowned, his gaze switching to her, but a part of him already knew. His body was reacting to it before his brain could catch up – he felt his breath catch in his throat, and his heart-rate speed up.

~

we were nothing more than stardust by cresswell

"I'm going to kill that bastard," he says quietly, bent close to Clarke's ear. "He's not going to touch you again, and I'm going to kill him."

Her pinkie finger extends, brushing the waistband of his jeans, and he carefully pushes their palms together, lacing their fingers. He thinks she smiles in her sleep.

~

Love is Not a Whisper (or a weakness) by monroeslittle

"There was a strange, muffled snap, and the tentacle around her middle was retracted. The hold on her ankle was gone, and Bellamy was pulling her up through the water. She began to pump her arms, and they broke the surface; she gasped, and coughed.

He pressed a gun into her hand. “If you see a ripple, shoot,” he ordered."

AU. The dropship doesn't land on land. The next seven years are a little bit different.

~

Astraphobia by @chants-de-lune

The fear of thunder and lightning. In other words, rainy day cuddling with a bit of angst.

~

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat by islabbe

There was blood everywhere; some of it red, but most of it was black. Bellamy wrinkled his nose at the metallic smell as it filled his nose. Pushing down the reflex to gag, he quickly made his way over to the tent.

“Clarke, stay with me,” he said gruffly, his voice straining as bent down to enter hers and Madi’s tent. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and Bellamy knew the longer he dawdled, the less time she had.

~

We Can’t Leave Us Behind by @ringsabellamy

"I don’t blame you for that, not anymore. I understand why you had to leave. But it still hurt, Clarke. And I guess...I think your goodbye reminds me of how I felt. Of what it was like to lose you.”

“The kiss,” she says, eyes full of sudden realization. “You think when I kiss you, it means I’m going to leave you.”

Or: Bellamy has a lot of healing to do, one try at a time.

~

Set The Dark On Fire by @talistheintrovert​

Clarke isn't coping well with peacetime on the Eligius ship, and while Bellamy has woken some of the others (mainly spacekru) and tries to organise a trip to the ground, making decisions and considering all the variables, Clarke makes a choice of her own:

She'll take herself out of the equation.

OR: the post season 5 idea I had to write because all of the unresolved emotional turmoil this season is actually killing me and someone needs to notice that Clarke is in pain, for the love of god.

~ 

for everything unsaid (there is a flourish of my pride) by theprincessandtheking

“I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I just didn’t really care either way anymore.”

She pauses, and from the corner of his eye he can see the odd expression on her face.

“So in the middle of wartime, when everything is going to hell around us, shaving is still a priority. But you spend six years with all the free time in the world for it, and suddenly you don’t care?”

He tries to smile at the joke, but he thinks it comes out as more of a grimace.

“I guess down here it was more of a sense of normalcy,” he explains. “But with you gone—”

He pauses, clears his throat in an attempt to keep his voice steady.

“Without you there, nothing really felt normal.”

~

I can never be alone when all gods keep calling me out by angel_deux

Raven fixes the radio after a few years, and Clarke can talk to them again.

~

they will see my strength (in this love i’ve found) by glowinghorizons 

“If you’re married they won’t let you go alone.”

The silence is deafening. Bellamy braces himself for the slap he knows is going to come his way any second, but it never happens.

“You--” she sounds breathless. “You don’t even know me.”

Bellamy shrugs. “Look. I-- this is crazy. I know. I just know that I can’t let my sister go to the ground without me.”

OR, Clarke finds out she's being sent to the Ground only days after her Dad dies. Bellamy is determined to go to the Ground with his sister. They need to fool everyone to make it work.

~

Like a Second Heart by Who_Needs_Reality

She’s hardly surprised, the first few times it happens. The hallucinations are vivid, but not long, not much, just short, staccato bursts of him, tiny pieces to keep her going -- his hand extended out to her to help her up from the rubble, his voice a soothing murmur in her ear telling her she’ll be alright until she finds water… of course she sees him, of course she hears him. It’s Bellamy -- who else would her mind conjure up to help her survive? There are worse symptoms praimfaya has left her with than a few too-real imaginings of her best friend after all.

{Clarke's not worried when she starts to hallucinate Bellamy. It's only when the dreams continue to haunt her even after the real Bellamy comes back that she's concerned}

~

We Sure Know How to Run by winterwaters

While attempting to get Jaha farther from the AI and the nuclear warhead, Clarke, Murphy and Emori run into trouble from another tribe and Clarke is injured. Bellamy and his group happen to be following that tribe and help take care of her. On the way home, she confronts her feelings for Bellamy - with a bit of help from Emori.

~

darling, just hold my hand by killianslonghaul

“I know you don’t like public displays of affection, but… you’re really not going to kiss me goodbye?”

or

Bellamy doesn't really do PDA, but he might make an exception.

~

baby on board by katebishop 

As a soon-to-be father, Bellamy thinks he's feeling the appropriate amount of worry and concern for his pregnant wife.

Clarke thinks he's utterly ridiculous.

~~~

Other AUS

Forbidden Words by onceuponahundred 

we’re in between classes, and we both hear a fourth year calling a first year a mudblood, and neither of us are having any of that prejudiced bullshit. unfortunately, my impulse was to hex them, and yours was to punch them in the face, and my jelly-legs curse hit you instead, i’m really sorry, and we both are probably getting detention now, but hey, plus side, you’re kind of cute

{Bellarke in Harry Potter}

~

Name One Hero Who Was Happy by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke huffs again, and he glances at her.

“The Curse of Achilles, Bellamy? Do you know how risky that was?”

“I got the idea when I felt my soul being torn from my body.”

She sniffs, imperious. “How did you do it?”

“Huh?” Her voice is smaller when she speaks again. “How did you...not get your soul...y’know?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “I had some help.”

{Bellarke in a Percy Jackson/The Last Olympian AU}

~

Don’t Think I Want What I Used to Want by arysa13 

Bellamy has a compass that points to what his heart most desires, which, as a pirate, must be treasure, obviously.

~

can’t control my feelings, can’t control my thoughts by katsumi

When Jasper accidentally gifts Clarke a love potion, everyone she interacts with starts acting...weird. Everyone, that is, except Bellamy. [Hogwarts AU]