Hunter's mistake - Bellamy Blake x Reader
summary: It was supposed to be just a routine hunt for food. She even offered to do it. But she got ambushed and now sheβs in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out with no one to help her. Meanwhile back at the camp, when sheβs still not returning to his dislike, Bellamy starts to worry.word count: 3,3k
warnings: mentions of blood, descriptions of fighting, cursing, near death experience, angst
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, bonus part
That morning began with an unfamiliar peace. No shouting. No chaos. Just her and silence. It was pretty early in the morning, everyone still asleep. Well, most of them. She spotted Bellamy and Clarke sitting outside, eating what seemed like breakfast. βYou two? Sitting in silence, eating together?β she raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips βNow, that's something I thought I'll never witness.β
βWell, good morning to you too. Care to join us?β Clarke gestured to the empty spot beside her. βWhatβs on todayβs agenda?β the other blonde girl asked, snagging a piece of bread from Clarkeβs plate without asking. βMhm, we need food,β Bellamy muttered, not looking up from his plate. β I can handle that,β she answered, tilting her head studying the boy in front of her. βIβll grab my gear and head out.
His eyes lifted, sharp and direct, βNo.β
That was Bellamy Blake - unreadable as ever. One day, he treated her like a trusted ally, an equal, someone whose opinion mattered. The next day? He shut her out like a stranger. She hated how inconsistent he was with her. Hated how he made her care. And maybe, just maybe, deep down she hated how she couldnβt stop herself from thinking about him.Β
But she hasnβt resolved those feelings, not yet. βExcuse me?β
βYou are not going for a hunt alone,β he stood up. βI didnβt say anything about going alone,β she protested. βCome on, I know you. You want to. Youβd rather face a mountain lion than ask anyone to tag alongβ Clarke watched in amusement. These two were a mystery to her. They were leaders along her side, making the difficult decisions, helping each other. One day they seemed fine and the next day? It felt like they were gonna slit each other's throats.
βAnd itβs working just fine for me, isnβt it,β she followed as he started to walk away. βI move faster solo, cover more ground. You need food? Thatβs how itβs done.βΒ
βThis is not about the food,β he snapped, turning to face her fully. βItβs about you coming back in one piece.β She looked at him furious. βOh, so now you care?β
βDonβt twist my words, princess,β he warned. She exhaled, trying not to kill him on spot. βLook, I get that youβre all in βprotect the campβ mode 24/7, but I am capable and Iβve done this way too many times for you to question my abilities.β
βAnd every damn time, you act like itβs a solo mission. Like no one gets to risk their life but you,β he said sharply. βYou think being alone makes you stronger, almost invincible.β
βAnd you think hovering over everyone makes you in control,β she snapped back, βbut you canβt control me Bellamy. You never could.β And thatβ¦? That hit harder than she intended. She was so mad at him, firing back without thinking first. His face shifted and she couldnβt read him anymore.
Clarke, still sitting nearby, raised a brow and muttered under her breath, βHere we go againβ¦β
Bellamy ignored her, βYou donβt go, unless someone goes with you.β She stepped closer to him, voice quieter, βAnd Iβm serious too. I need to get out, just for a few hours. Clear my head, breathe.β He didnβt say anything, just watched her. βIβll be careful,β she added, βI swear. And Iβll be back by noon. Justβ¦ trust me.β
That of all things, seemed to do it. He signed, defeated, dragging a hand down his face. βFine, whatever. But if youβre not back by noonβ¦βΒ
βYeah, I know the drill, youβll send a search party,β she finished for him. βNo. Iβll come find you myself, princess,β he said, deadly serious. She never heard this tone from him before, not directed at her. She swallowed hard, then just rolled her eyes. βAlways so dramatic, Blake.β With that she turned, heading off to gather her gear.
He just kept standing there looking after her. βSo,β Clarke said behind him, βwill you ever have the guts to tell her?β He didnβt say anything, just walked away. She just shook her head and followed. Some things never change.
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Two hours. Thatβs how long sheβd been out there. And all she had to show for was a small rabbit that would barely feed three people, maybe four if luck was on their side. It wasnβt looking so good, so she made a decision to go deeper into the woods. It wasnβt a smart decision, she was well aware of that, too far from the camp, too close to unknown danger. But hunger didnβt care about caution. And she needed to prove something. To herself, to Bellamy, to everyone who thought that she couldnβt handle things on her own.
As she was walking between the trees she heard a branch crack. Until that moment the woods were silent, heavy with tension. She spun, her heart in her throat. A male steps into the view, holding a machete in one hand. He seems dangerous, even brutal, face painted. βSkaikru,β he spits that word like a venom. He smiles. The kind of smile that doesnβt reach his eyes. Two more come out of the shadows, following him. Three of them. Her stomach dropped.
Then the one holding machete chargers. She ducks the first swing instinctively, her foot setting solidly as she slams her shoulder into his side but he barely moves. In a blur, he grabs her by the arm and throws her into the nearest three. It hurts, but she forces herself back up.
She takes out a dagger and throws it at him, missing him by a few inches. Sheβs well aware of the fact that she wonβt be able to overpower them, but needs to outsmart them.
The second one comes at her fast. She sidesteps just in time, kicking his leg out from under him. He hits the ground with a scary grunt. The third swinged a short spear at her. She twisted back, avoiding the tip as it sliced the air.
They circled her, closing in. They trade blows. She tries to be faster - elbow to one's face, then a low kick to the knee of the other one. Her opponents grunts. Staggered, one grabs her by her wrist and swings her into another tree. It leaves bloody marks on her arm and she winces in pain.
The little fighter twists, knees him in the ribs, grabs the machete handle. But heβs faster, wrenches it back, slicing the air between them.Β
Breathing hard, bruised, they circle each other again. After a single second she lunges, barehanded. Grabs the nearest branch. She swung - he blocked. It was enough. She slams the sharp end into his guts. He gasps.Β
With a victorious smile she gets distracted leaving him with an opportunity. Flash of metal. Pain exploded in her stomach. He stabbed her. Low, below the ribs. She bites down a scream, eyes wide. Silence. βYou shouldnβt have come alone,β he whispers into her ear and then pulls the blade free and steps back, blood dripping from the metal.
She drops to one knee, clutching the wound. Her attackers back into the shadows and disappear like ghosts. She tries to stand up but her legs give out.
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βIs she back yet?β Bellamyβs rough voice cut through the quiet camp. Clarke looked up from her notebook, where she was probably drawing something or maybe someone, βNo,β she said, glancing towards the woods. βI havenβt seen her come in.β
Bellamyβs jaw clenched. He looked up at the sky, the sun was hanging high. It was already past noon. Where the hell is she? She promised sheβd be back, she promised. βFuck,β he muttered, βShe always has to do things in her own way. Stubborn.β he reminded himself.
Clarke closed the notebook she had in her hands, putting it next to her. She picked up on the visible tension in his voice. βBellamy,β she tried to soothe him, βYou know how she is. Our little huntress, she probably caught some fresh tracks and got lost in the chasing game. Sheβll be back soon.β But he couldnβt share Clarkeβs optimism. Something felt off, he felt it in his guts, βNo, somethingβs wrong.β
Clarke stood up, her eyes locked on him, βYou donβt know that.β
βI do, Clarke,β he snapped. He was frustrated, but it started to turn into guilt. βWhy did I let her go alone? She said she needed to go out and I just let her. Like a goddamn idiot." Clarke stepped closer, reaching for his arm, trying to calm him down, βShe is capable, Bellamy. Sheβs not some helpless kid, she's a grown woman.β
βI do know that, but this place,β he stuttered, βthis place doesnβt care if you are capable. There is danger lurking around every corner. Grounders, traps, unknown diseases and yet, knowing all of this, she goes out for a hunt, alone. Why? Because she still thinks being alone makes her look stronger.β Clarke stared at him for a second. βShe just wants to prove herself,β she said gently, βTo you. To everyone.β
The dark haired boy didnβt answer right away. His jaw clenched, he looked out into the woods, like she could appear any minute. But she didnβt. βShe doesnβt need to prove anything,β he said quietly, βNot to me.β And without another word, he turned. βMonty!β he shouted, already heading toward the supply tent. βGear up, weβre going after her.β Monty didnβt question it. βOn it.β
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Each step was becoming harder than the last one. She dragged herself through the forest, catching on roots and rocks, but she barely noticed anymore. Her only goal was to get back to the camp, to him. Her surroundings had blurred into shades of green and brown, distant and unreal. She felt like she was drowning - too slow, too heavy, too quiet.
Her hand pressed tightly to her stomach, red liquid leaking through her fingers. Blood. She couldnβt tell for how long she had been walking. Time didnβt make sense anymore. The pain was replaced by numbness. That wasnβt a good sign.
She stumbled over a fallen branch and barely caught herself. A painful scream caught up in her throat. Her body was screaming at her to rest, to just lie down. But she kept going. She had to, because if she didnβt, there would be no getting back up.
Her mind drifted. Not to the pain, nor her wound, not even the danger that still lurked in the shadows. It drifted to him. Bellamy Blake. Stubborn, sometimes arrogant, infuriating, always thinking he knew best. And yet, always there.
She heard his voice from that morning. Reminded herself the way heβd looked at her when he told her not to go alone. She ignored his request like a little child, because she felt like she needed to prove something. They fought a lot, and yet, under every insult she could sense something that felt like care.
He drove her crazy. And sometimes - sometimes she caught him looking at her like he cared more than he let on. Like she was the only one in the room. And maybe, just maybe, she looked back the same way. Never said it, never properly named it.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Or was it a sob? She couldnβt comprehend anymore. She wanted to scream, to beg, to yell at someone, but she wasnβt able to even whisper, her lungs at their max capacity. And then suddenly her knees buckled. She fell forward, hands digging into the cold dirt. It sent a jolt of pain through her entire body. She couldnβt breathe. Looked at the path ahead of her, but there was nothing but just more trees, more silence.
She closed her eyes in defeat. I am sorry, she mouthed. Her body slumped against the base of a tree. It scraped her back, but the discomfort reminded her that she was still awake, alive. Her strength left her body like water that slips through fingers. And then - nothing.
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A few moments later Ballamy and a small search party at his back were moving through the woods. They were all on high alert and armed. Bellamy was leading, moving faster than the others, eyes scanning the ground for any small clue - a trail, a footprint, a broken branch. βBellamy!β Monty called from behind. βWeβll be able to cover more ground if we split up.β
βNo!βhe cut in, shaking his head. βShe canβt be too far. She wouldnβt go too deep, not alone.β Oh how much was that a lie. She would. And she had.
Theyβd been out for almost an hour. With every step, every unanswered call of her name, the fear he felt clawed tighter at his chest.Β
Then, he saw it. Blood on the bark of a tree, a drag mark in the dirt. His stomach dropped. βHere!β he shouted, to let the others know of his findings. But he didnβt wait for them to catch up. He just couldnβt. His legs moved instinctively, following the trail of blood. And then - he found her.
His heart nearly stopped at the sight of her. She was leaning on the base of a tree, not too far from the camp, she was so close to making it back. One hand was limp over a wound just beneath the ribs. Blood has soaked into her shirt and into the ground beneath her. Her breathing was shallow. For a second, he couldnβt move. Couldnβt breathe. He just stood there and stared at her like she might disappear in the blink of an eye. Then instinct kicked in.
βNo. No, no, noβ¦β Bellamy dropped to his knees beside her. Hands hovering over her body, too scared to touch her. βHey,β his voice cracked as he gently brushed the hair from her face. βHey, look at me. Come on, open your eyes.β His fingers trembled against her cheek. She was cold to the touch.
Her eyelids fluttered weakly, her gaze barely finding him. βYou came,β she whispered, but it felt like her voice wasnβt even there. βOf course I came,β he choked out with a little hint of a smile, trying to keep pressure on her wound with shaking hands. βYou thought that youβll get to play the hero alone?β A weak, broken smile tugged at her lips. βDidnβtβ¦ play a hero. Justβ¦β it was hard to finish the sentence, her body tense, βstupid.β
βYeah,β he slightly nodded, biting back the lump in his throat. βYeah, you were. Youβre not supposed to do this alone.β She blinked slowly, eyes drifting closed again.
βNo. No, hey,β his voice rising, lightly tapping her cheek. βStay with me. You stay with me. I swear, if you die out here, Iβllβ¦ Iβll kill you myself.β Her lips moved, βYouβd miss me.β
He laughed, a broken laugh wrapped in fear and disbelief. βYeah, yeah I would.β
Monty appeared out of nowhere, breathless. βBellamy!β The worry spreaded across his friend's face said it all. Monty just nodded and cleared the way while Bellamy slid one arm beneath the girlβs shoulder and the other beneath her knees. He couldnβt lose her.
He forced himself to move, lifted her, her head falling against his chest. She was far too light, far too cold. Blood everywhere.
βPrincess,β he whispered, his heart breaking at the sight of her, in his arms, limp. βJustβ¦ just stay with me, alright? Iβve got you. Iβve got you.β But she didnβt respond. He could hear her fading heartbeat against his chest and more panic settled in.Β
Her blood soaked into his shirt, warm and horrifying. It coated his hands, streaked his arms. It felt like a living nightmare he couldnβt wake up from. But he couldnβt stop, he didnβt dare to.
βYouβre okay,β he whispered over and over as he carried her, like a prayer. βYouβre gonna be okay. Just keep breathing. Pleaseβ¦ donβt do this to me.βΒ
Every step back to camp felt like endless miles. He was desperate, never looking at the trees around them, not even glancing back if the group was still with him. His eyes never left her, not once. Her lashes fluttered once, barely. He clung to that.Β
βYou donβt get to do this to me, go out like this,β his voice was raw with emotion. βYouβre too stubborn, right? You fight. Thatβs how you do it. So fight now, dammit,β he was almost screaming.
He felt like he was gonna break, felt responsible. And the moment the med tent came into view, his own legs almost betrayed him. But he kept going, he couldnβt stop.
She wasnβt gone. Not yet. And heβd make sure she never got that close again.
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The chaos had passed. The med tent smelled like blood and antiseptic. Clarke worked relentlessly, had done everything she could. Hands worked steady, face pale. The blood haunted him, it was everywhere - on the floor, remained on his hands. He wouldnβt leave her side. Heβd just stood there, frozen in the corner, useless. Once a leader, fighter, now just a boy watching someone he cared about slip away.
βSheβs stable,β Clarke had told him, when she finished. βFor now.β For now, those two words haunted him. Heβd nearly lost her.
The tent fell into quietness, whilst Clarke had stepped out to get fresh bandages. No one saw how her hands trembled.
Bellamy remained. He sat down beside her, elbows on his knees, his bloodied hands locked together, knuckles white. Someone has to pay. He couldnβt look at her. She was always like a storm. Now she was this empty shell, so still, pale, quiet.Β
They faced many close calls together, there were just too many of them in this world. Heβd always thought there was time. Time to figure it out, to fight a little more, to ignore the way she got under his skin. To avoid those feelings he couldnβt name every time she looked at him like he was something more. But this was different, he almost lost her this time.
He shouldβve gone with her. He knew how she was when she felt caged in. He should see it coming. βAlways trying to prove youβre better off on your own,β he murmured, more to the quiet than to her. βLike youβre not carrying the weight of this whole damn camp on your shoulders. Like itβs your job to bleed for everyone else.β
Monty came to check on her but also his friend. His hand rested on Bellamyβs shoulder in a comforting manner. βItβs not your fault. She made a choice. Sheβs not your responsibility.β Bellamy didnβt dare to look at him. βYouβre wrong.βΒ
βWhy?β Monty signed.Β βBecause sheβs part of the camp? Or because you care about her more than you want anyone to know?β Bellamy didnβt answer and Monty left him alone to his thoughts.Β
Finally he looked up. She looked so fragile, like one wrong move would shatter her. Clarked had cleaned the wound and wrapped her torso. βYou drive me insane, you know that?β No response. Just the soft rise and fall of her chest. βGod, if you donβt wake upβ¦β He couldnβt finish it.
Bellamy leaned in slowly, letting his forehead rest against the edge of the cot, just inches from her hand. He wanted to touch her, but didnβt dare to, scared of hurting her, or himself. He stayed like that, head bowed, like a man praying to a god he didnβt believe in.
βI canβt lose you,β he whispered, βIβm not ready to lose you.β
Her fingers twitched. Barely. But it was enough.
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a/n: i should mention that i only watched season 1 and half of season 2 so far but lately I am obsessed with the 100 and decided that I could try and write a fanfic after a very long time. hope you'll enjoy, it's my first ever fanfic on here and also, english is not my first language so i apologize for any grammatical mistakes in advance.
