[identity profile] mollivanders.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] prefer_my_life
Title: I carried your face with me all these miles
Fandom: The 100
Rating: G
Characters: Clarke/Bellamy
Author's Note: Word Count – 807. Don't look at me. I've lost complete control of my life.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the CW.

His last memory of Clarke is a fragment of battle, a shot of her desperate face as she retreats into the drop ship.

He’s not going to make it.

Realizing that he and Finn only have seconds to get to safety, he knocks the Grounder he’s fighting away in a one desperate shove and yells for Finn to follow him into the tunnels.

(He carries that glimpse of Clarke with him for weeks.)


By the time he gets back to the drop ship, everybody is gone.

(Well, almost everybody. Monroe and Sterling, reliable as ever, emerge from the tunnels to follow his lead.)

“Have you seen Finn?” he asks, scanning the barren campsite in a bewildered manner. Where the hell was everyone?

“Grounders,” Monroe informs him, and points east. “Tied to the back of a horse.”

The next few days are a rush of short belligerence. Things go from bad to worse faster than usual, from their missing friends to the Guard being on the ground to getting locked up in a jail cell not far enough away to soften Raven’s screams in surgery.

Bellamy is having a hell of a week.

Even in the midst of it though, his mind whirls around two very important details. For one, would he ever see O again?

(He wonders, and pushes the thought away.)

The other is something he knows he can attack, if he could just get out. Where the hell did the Grounders take the rest of the camp?

(Where the hell is Clarke, and why didn’t their plan work?)

Questions whirl in the back of his mind, and he falls asleep to Clarke’s figure disappearing into the drop ship.

(She’d look after them. Of this, he is sure.)


There are roughly seventy-five people of his people missing right now, and it almost seems unfair to focus so much on Clarke but –

She said once she needed him to help lead. Right now, he needs her. He feels her absence everywhere he turns – from being an outcast to watching Finn walk away from shooting a guy in cold blood to the plain waywardness of their plan to get everyone else back.

He likes to think he’s never needed anyone in his life – he’s the one people need – but now, at this very moment, arguing with Finn about saving a girl hanging off a tree branch on a cliff face – he sucks it up.

“We don't know if we could save our friends,” he bursts forcefully. “For all we know, they may be dead already. We've all thought it. But what we do know is we could save this one girl.”

For the first time since the drop ship rockets went off, he actually feels like the leader they deserve.

(All the same, that night when they camp is the longest night he’s had yet.)

He really has never known when he’s headed in the right direction.


He never sees her coming.

(Story of his life, really.)

She flings herself into his arms before he knows what’s happening and it takes him a long moment to realize who is hugging him so hard he can’t breathe, but when he does –

All the air leaves his lungs in a sweet mixture of relief and joy and he finds himself lifting her up off her toes, hugging her back.

She mumbles something into his neck that he feels more than hears but when they finally let go, he can’t find anything to say. She’s bruised and bloody, though he’s no picture either.

(The memory of her in his mind flickers as he drinks her in; all as she is and more.)

“How many with you?” he asks, finally putting words together. She’s here. They survived.

“None,” she says, meeting his gaze, and there’s an apology there, but no guilt. Not between them.


She tells him the story on the way, and if she notices him stealing glances on the way, she doesn’t say a word.

“How the hell are we supposed to fight them then?” he asks when she’s done describing the labyrinth of Reapers and the security system around the mountain. “They’ll see us coming a mile away.”

“We’ll think of something,” she affirms, grinning. “Maybe Raven’ll get to blow something up.”

He rolls his eyes, though he likes the idea. “Infiltration’s probably our best bet. If we could sneak past the Reapers –”

“You haven’t seen them, Bellamy,” she says, catching his eye as he lends a hand down a hill. “It’d be insane to try.”

“Do you think they have Lincoln?” Octavia asks, falling in step beside them, and Clarke looks at Bellamy.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Then it’s worth the fight,” Octavia says, earning a nod from Clarke. Brave princess, he thinks idly, and catches himself watching Clarke again.

(The thought keeps him up all night.)

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