Work Text:
I'm a sucker for all the subliminal things
No one knows about you (about you) about you (about you)
And you're making the typical me break my typical rules
It's true, I'm a sucker for you, yeah
Sucker ~ The Jonas Brothers
~*~
Growing up, Clarke enjoyed imagining she was a princess, Wells was a prince, and Clarke was destined to save him from the fire breathing dragon -his dad- and take him to her castle where they would live happily ever after. She read all the fairytale books she could get her hands on, of daring rescues and handsome princes that had warm smiles and twinkling eyes.
She remembered the stories again as she watches Bellamy Blake speak to the other delinquents sentenced to death on the ground, which was once thought to be uninhabitable. Clarke watches as he weaves a story of freedom where you never have to abide by any rules, where chaos reigned, and no adult figure could tell you what you could and couldn’t do. “Whatever the hell we want,” he shouted, and she swore his eyes were twinkling when cheers rang out across the forest.
Later as they were walking back with Jasper, Clarke watched Bellamy ahead, the panther hefted on his shoulder, as he walked side by side with Murphy, quietly conversing, and she thought of his eyes. His dark smoldering eyes that had been looking at her as he held her life in his hands, with no mirth left in them, just regret and a lingering sadness. And in that moment, she knew he wasn’t a killer despite the facade he held up.
Despite the fierce bite of Bellamy's words and the fire in his eyes, the taunting in his voice when he had mockingly drawled 'brave princess', Clarke was sure that he was the prince the fairytale stories had told her about when she was younger. She saw the unrelenting sun, beating down on the world, but she also saw the warmth he drew, the warm smile he gave Octavia as he got her in a headlock, and laughter like the first sunrise Clarke saw, drawing the breath from her lungs.
~*~*~*~
Clarke was livid, and she didn’t use that word gently. She prided herself on maintaining a calm attitude, a stark difference from Bellamy and his bubbling anger, like lava erupting in a volcano. Instead, she tried to be a trickling stream, letting her anger ebb out little by little before confronting the problem. However, she had just finished up stitching five kids who thought it would’ve been fun to try to climb the dropship like they saw Finn do the first day, so you could say her tolerance was wearing a bit thin.
“Where is it?” She huffed, scouring around the main level of the dropship, opening cases, peeking on shelves, slamming drawers closed. She had arranged everything they had collected for medicinal or healing purposes in a meticulously placed order that should’ve allowed her to find everything she needed when she needed it , but no, nothing stays together on the ground.
She heard footsteps going up the ramp and the swoosh of the curtain being pulled back before that infuriatingly deep voice sounded in the stale air, “You trying to fight a grounder in here, princess? I could hear you stomping around from across camp.”
Clarke scowled, “Shut the hell up, Bellamy. If you’re not here to help, leave. ” She straightened up, and turned towards where he stood, leaning against the dropship wall, his usual smirk on his face. He looked relaxed, the asshole, like they weren’t fighting for their lives every single day, like they didn’t have to bury Kara yesterday after an ambush by a grounder.
“What’s got the princess’s panties all in a twist? Did spacewalker run off with his girlfriend and leave you behind?” He smiled contemptuously. She rolled her eyes, and continued to search, shoving him out of the way to get to a drawer.
“While it’s none of your damn business when it comes to my personal life, I’m actually looking for the medicinal plants you brought in yesterday with the scavenging group. Have you seen them?” She peered up at him, as he watched her with shielded eyes, guilty eyes, “Bellamy Blake,” she growled, “where are my plants?”
Bellamy raised his hands up in surrender, “In my defense, I had nothing to do with them taking the plants, and they swore you had let them.” He winced at her livid glare, “It was Monty and Jasper, which really shouldn’t be surprising to you. I, ah, believe they’re using them for some recreational purposes.”
If it was possible, Clarke’s scowl deepened and she turned to march off and give them a piece of her mind before Bellamy grabbed her arm and pulled her back, “Let me go, Bellamy.”
He shook his head, “Now you know I can’t do that.” He uttered quietly, “You’re tired and stressed out, we’ll deal with this in the morning.”
Clarke sighed, all the fight slowly draining out of her body, and giving way to exhaustion. She knew he was right, damn it she did, but all she could see was the faces of the dead, the faces she had let down. And the faces of those still alive, those she couldn’t let down.
“I can’t,” She whispered and her voice broke, “Bellamy, I can’t. ” He studied her face, his eyes searching for what, she didn’t know. But he came to a conclusion and nodded.
“I’ll stay here while you finish, okay?” He ducked his head down to look Clarke in the eye, and she nodded, blinking away the tears that burned in the back of her eyes.
He settled into a seat in the corner, his rifle lying across his lap, as his eyes followed her everywhere she went, flitting back and forth, checking the rest of the inventory, figuring out what they needed, or had yet to discover. Occasionally he’d make a snarky comment and she’d have to turn away to hide her grin, and not encourage them. (Wait so you’re telling me there’s an actual plant called a sticky willy? - I mean technically the Latin term is Galium Aparine and- stop laughing, it can be made into a poultice, we need it, and no don’t you dare make an innuendo. - Clarke, I could be making so many dick jokes right now, you should be thanking me for holding back.)
Eventually they went to bed, Bellamy walking Clarke to her tent, with a sly smile and a slap to the head and afterwards, - can’t wait to help you find those sticky willies - Clarke went to bed more at ease then she’d been in weeks since they’d landed on this godforsaken ground.
Waking up that morning she’d walked into the dropship to find Bellamy directing some kids where to put the specific plants she had wanted yesterday, and a whole new pile of the ones that were stolen, in the exact place she’d arranged for them. He turned and saw her, a smirk overtaking his face, and this time she didn’t seem that annoyed by it.
“Your new plants await.” He grinned, sweeping his hand out. He called to the other kids, and told them to meet him by the gate in a few minutes before turning back to her, “I woke up at the crack of dawn to get those for you, specifically the sticky willy , so I hope they have some pretty damn good healing properties.”
She rolled her eyes, but a grin still remained plastered on her face, “Thank you, Bellamy. Now shoo, I have work to do, and I’m sure I’ll be getting some irresponsible kid coming in here with a head wound soon enough.”
He nodded, and made his way down the ramp, but not before stopping and looking back at her, “Just a tip, make sure to loosen up every once in awhile, princess.” Then he let the curtain fall, and he was gone.
That night Clarke would learn that he had put Monty and Jasper, and all the other kids involved, on latrine duty for a week. Yet knowing she could tease about him being the uptight one now, all she could think about was hearing him say princess that same way again, like eating a sour lemon and hitting the sweet spot that makes you grin.
~*~*~
A little while after Bellamy had delivered the awe inspiring line, who we are, and who we need to be to survive, are two very different things, Clarke had watched as he tried to mend what was left of his relationship with an angry sister, and reassure those who were involved in the torturing of the grounder. He embodied a father figure, stepping in and trying to reason with his sister about why he did it, or why the choices she was making were wrong.
While also giving relief and comfort to those, specifically Miller, that had been affected by the torturing of a human being. She was sure he was recycling the line used on her, trying to help Miller remember that it all wasn’t on him, and he was just trying to survive. The conversation surely didn’t go that well with Octavia after Clarke watched her yell some resounding words to his face before marching off.
Now Bellamy found her sitting on the guard’s post, head tipped up to the starry night sky, gazing at it through the cracks in the canopy of the trees, the moon glowing above them.
“See anything you like up there?” He called, watching as her head swiveled towards him, a soft smile already gracing her features.
She tilted her head towards the empty space next to her, “Why don’t you come up here and see?” He grinned before slinging his rifle over his shoulder and clambering his way up the makeshift ladder, and settling in beside her. He tried not to think about how close they were sitting on the small platform, or how his arm had come to settle behind her and she hadn’t pulled away.
“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked ruefully. It was a common question amongst the delinquents, plagued by new nightmares from the harrowing ground, and old ones from the hell that was the Ark.
She blinked slowly back at him, like she was in a daze, and shrugged, “Trying to remember what the stars looked like before, when I was surrounded by them.” She tilted her head back up to the sky, the light of the stars reflecting in her icy blue eyes.
“Well,” Bellamy considered, “I happened to think the stars look more beautiful on the ground than up there.” Clarke turned to look at him, a cheshire cat grin plastered on his face.
She let out a breath, and rolled her eyes, “You use that line on all the girls?” She asked.
He scrunched up his nose, “Nah, just the ones I don’t think I have a chance with.” He heard her breath stutter, before she pursed her lips and looked back at him.
“I heard the argument between you and Octavia, I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.” She sent him a pitiful look, her eyes full of remorse. Bellamy looked away.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice your abrupt change in subject, princess. And no, I don’t think she will, turns out that ever since we got the ground, everything I do for her is wrong.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes firmly trained on the ground, “Turns out living under the floor for the majority of your life will give you hell of a rebellious streak.’ He grumbled, trying not to smile as her laughter rang out into the quiet night.
“Or maybe it’s just Octavia’s personality,” She murmured, nudging his shoulder with her own. “I’m pretty sure it’s in the Blake family bloodline to be notoriously stubborn and frustrating.”
Bellamy scoffed, “I am not as bad as her. Yeah, maybe I did go off on a whatever the hell we want rampage in the beginning, but I like to think I came around for the most part.” He offered Clarke a lopsided smile, his dark eyes glowing with mischief.
“Yeah,” She sighed, ‘you did. And Bell-” Bellamy interrupted her with an abrupt look and a finger pointed to the sky, and she turned to see a shooting star streak across the night sky.
“Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?” He whispered, repeating the conversation they just had a few days ago, but seemingly eons away.
She bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes, “I wouldn’t even know what to wish for. What about you?” She notices the space between them has significantly decreased, their breath beginning to intermingle.
He flicks his eyes down to her lips before looking back up, studying her, “A different beginning with a certain space princess.”
She licks her lips before leaning in, her breath hot on his cheek, “Maybe if we survive all of this, you can.” She presses a kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth before turning and climbing back down the ladder.
Clarke looks back at him, “Goodnight, Bellamy.”
He stares back, a sea of emotions swimming in his eyes, “Goodnight, Clarke,” he murmurs. Bellamy watches her leave, her golden halo of hair disappearing behind the curtain of the dropship. And he would never utter the words aloud, but she reminded him more of the moon, entrancing in the night sky as it glows brighter than everything else that surrounds it, forbidden to ever touch the sun.
~*~*~
They’re in Clarke’s tent, going over the maps Clarke had sketched out of Eden. Her and Bellamy decided that the only way to distract themselves of the looming threat of a potential war, is it to think about the peace of afterwards.
She’s showing him where she thinks Wonkru and Eligius should go, on opposite sides of the valley, when Bellamy interrupts her, “Wait, if we're planning on building brand new settlements, then what is this over here?” He moved his finger towards a cluster of buildings on the map, secluded from the rest of the valley in a hidden alcove.
A project that had taken Clarke almost the entire 6 years to complete, especially as she began to regain strength after the effects of Praimfaya, “'I, uh-, me and Madi built a group of housing specifically for when you guys came down?” She winced at the crack of her voice towards the end, burying her face in her hands, “I know it sounds really stupid and tedious work, especially since it was literally just me and Madi, who wasn't very helpful, but there was a lot of ruins over there that had miraculously survived, not to mention I did have 6 years with almost little to nothing to do an-.” She’s cut off by him sweeping her into a hug, eliciting a gasp from her.
A jovial laugh erupts from Bellamy, his chest vibrating from the sound, “It’s not stupid,” His low rasp sounds in her ear, where his lips are pressed, sending shivers down Clarke’s spine, “Hell, it's probably one of the most touching things anyone has ever done for me.”
Clarke pulled back at that, shooting him a skeptical look, “You can’t be serious.”
He laughs again, and she’s never wanted to live in a moment forever until now, listening to his laughter on repeat.
“Yeah, well, my princess has always been breaking the norm.”
Her eyes widen and she gapes at him, “You called me princess. ”
He pauses, a smirk overcoming his features, “Yeah, I guess I did.”
She takes a step forward, “You also said my princess, didn’t know I was yours.”
Bellamy blushes, chuckling nervously and rubbing the back of his neck, “Well, I didn't necessarily mean it like that . You're not owned by anybody, and you're definitely your own woman. I just meant since I called you that nickname ever since we met and I-” His breath hitches as she places a hand on his chest, successfully silencing him. Her hands slide up to link behind his neck, gazing up at him.
“I may not be a space princess anymore, but I’m still holding out for that different beginning.” She breathes, stretching up on her tiptoes, breath encasing his every senses and eyelashes brushing his cheeks until-.
“No, we can't. Clarke, I’m sorry,” Bellamy pulls away. He runs a hand through his curls, the curls that she dreamed about for years, along with dark brown eyes she wished to drown in.
Tears prick her eyes and she nods her head, keeping her expression devoid of any emotion and avoiding his eyes, “Yeah, you're right, it’s my fault. I stepped out of line, I’m sorry. I should- I should go.” She turns to speed walk past him, but he latches onto her arm, effectively silencing her.
His voice sounds wrecked when he speaks, “It’s not what you think.”
She keeps her eyes trained on the ground, “It’s getting late, I-” she chokes on the words, “I thought things would be different,” and again, she tried to pull away, but his grip tightens.
“Princess, please. ”
Clarke looks up at that, at him, pain and desperation vivid in his eyes. In the time that she’s known Bellamy, Clarke learned that Bellamy held himself with authority, an aura that seemed to silence those around him. She’s only heard him say please once, a situation similar to this one, where he was begging her not to go.
And this time she decided to stay. Her shoulders slump and she nods her head tiredly, waiting for him to tell her that he didn’t feel that way anymore, that it's been six years, it's different now.
“I’m with Echo.” Three words that sucked all the air out of her lungs, jarring her world forever. Three words that made him let her go this time.
~*~*~
Bellamy wrings his hands together as he paces back and forth on the linoleum floor, right across from where Clarke Griffin lay, her body limp on a chair. They had successfully killed Josephine, with the surprising help of Russell, who set them up in the lab and helped them through the process of safely retrieving the A.I chip out of Clarke’s head, who still remained unconscious. Russell had reassured Bellamy that she would wake up soon, that her body was readjusting to getting her body back, He had left with the others, knowing looks shot Bellamy’s way, to give him some privacy.
Madi was currently on her way, after Bellamy had put her in lockup on the dropship, with the recently reunited Gaia. He knew she would be angry at him at first, but he was sure seeing Clarke again would ease some of it.
Now, his nerves were sporadic, too many emotions to name flitting through his head. All Bellamy could focus on was telling Clarke he loved her and that he was never letting go of her again, even if he had to glue himself to her side to do it.
However the thought of saying the words aloud, of these bottled up feelings becoming real, and not just in his head? It scared him, a lot. Of course he knew how she felt, or he thought he did, after the tense ridden moment back on earth when they were traveling with Wonkru. The desire she had held in her eyes seemed so genuine, so real, but then he saw her with the doctor.
He saw her with a free and airy smile on her face when she was dancing with him. Like Clarke had finally realized that she actually didn’t have to hold the weight of the world on her shoulders. He couldn’t take that from her, risk his presence staining that sense of peace he wanted her to hold desperately onto. And perhaps she couldn’t get it with someone who was with her since the beginning, someone like him.
What was he saying? Bellamy had threesomes with girls back when they first landed, it didn't mean he felt anything for them. No, he couldn't let any doubt cloud his decision, as soon as she wakes up he was going to say straight to her face, “I love y-”
"BELLAMY!" Clarke’s sobs sound in the lab as she shoots up from the chair, her eyes frantic and head swiveling in every direction. Her fingers grapple for purchase on the padding of the chair, breathing frantically.
Bellamy was at her side in an instant, his arms encasing her small body, cowering in on itself, “I’m here Clarke. I’m here, I’m here....” He kept repeating the words like a mantra, for Clarke or himself, he wasn't sure. Her breathing eventually slowed, shoulders relaxing as she slumped into him, her hands gripping his forearms in a death grip.
He didn’t let her go, pulling back enough to press his forehead to hers. He relished in the sound of her breath, knowing that it wasn’t someone else that he heard, but the one and only, his Clarke Griffin.
“Bellamy, you’re here, and I’m- I’m alive?” Her voice was scratchy from disuse and, well, Josephine using it to fight for her life.
He nods his head, letting out a strangled laugh, “Yeah, you're alive.”
A slow tired smile appears on her face, her hands sliding up to run through his soft curls, “Knew you would figure it out,” She mumbles, her eyes finally opening to reveal the familiar icy blue that Bellamy had fallen desperately in love with.
“I love you, Bellamy Blake,” She cups his cheek, studying his every feature, getting lost in the constellations of freckles splattered on his face, “Have for years, just finally got my head out of my ass to tell you.”
He swallows, tears sliding down to intermix with the ones already streaking down her face, “I love you too, princess, maybe since the first time I called you that.”
She nuzzles her nose against his, “We’re complete idiots that wasted a lot of time.”
He hums in agreement before tugging her against his chest, “Not anymore.” And finally, finally, pressing his lips to hers.