Chapter Text
Bellamy woke up in darkness. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in 1662. He remembered going to the shore, watching the sun set one last time before the angry citizens of Salem, Massachusetts located him.
They had discovered his gift recently when a large beam fell from the rafters of the partially constructed barn, landing on him. It had taken four strong men to lift the beam from Bellamy’s body and when they saw he was completely unharmed, rumors began to circulate through the town and soon enough the mob had formed.
This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, ordinarily Bellamy would have run to the nearest town stolen a horse and run till he didn’t know the scenery or any of the people, but this time the mob managed to corner him on one of peninsulas that lined the shore. Bellamy knew that he had only one option. He found a system of caves, said goodbye to the sun and the shore, and disappeared into the darkness. There he’d slept for who knows how many years.
Now he was awake. Stretching his aching muscles, Bellamy stood up, brushing off the earth that had begun to embrace his body. Feeling around him, he located the torch that he’d brought with him and fumbled for the flint in his pocket. Lighting the slightly damp torch took some time but eventually he managed before winding his way out of the cave’s twisting passages.
The dim light of the torch was nothing compared to the agonizing brightness of the sunlight on the beach. Bellamy blinked back tears, standing just inside the mouth of the cave, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. After a while he could see the people on the beaches, could see the children playing in the sand.
How long have I been asleep? He wondered as he watched women lounging on the sand in next to nothing, and men in pants that only reached to their knees. Looking down at his dirty, dated clothing, Bellamy sighed. He would have to wait until nightfall to find some clean clothes.
Bellamy watched the shadows slowly lengthen as the sun set behind the cave. Just as the shadows were beginning to blur into the general darkness of twilight, Bellamy heard barking.
“Jasper!” a woman’s voice called. “Jasper heel!”
Just then a large warm mass of yellow fur filled Bellamy’s vision and a warm wet tongue was licking every inch of his face.
“I am so sorry,” the woman’s voice said as she managed to drag her dog off of Bellamy’s chest. “He doesn’t usually run off like that. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
Bellamy wiped off the slobber and tried to hide his smile. Her little pooch wouldn’t be able to hurt him, but it was sweet of her to care.
The woman had managed to get a leash on the dog and forced him to sit, tail still stirring up clouds of dirt and sand.
“I assure you I am unharmed,” Bellamy said as he stood up, looking curiously to the dog and his owner.
She was a head shorter than he was, with long blonde hair tied up in a messy knot at the back of her head and inquisitive blue eyes. She was wearing a shirt with the faded image of a rose printed across the front and pants that reached just above her knees.
Not wanting to offend her, Bellamy kept his eyes trained on her face. He didn’t yet know the customs of this era, and didn’t want to seem intrusive. Her eyes however lingered on his clothing, her brow scrunched up in confusion as she took in the high stockings, the buckled shoes, the waistcoat, and the long hair tied back with a ribbon, all of which were covered in a layer of earth.
“I’m Clarke, by the way,” she said, offering her hand.
Bellamy took her hand and placed a kiss on the back. “Bellamy Blake, at your service.”
A soft blush rose to her cheeks as she retracted her hand. “And you’ve already met Jasper.” The dog barked upon hearing his name.
Bellamy looked at the dog for a moment, before returning his attention to Clarke. “Might I ask you what the date is today?”
Clarke looked at him, taking in his clothing for a long moment before answering. “July twenty second 2014.”
That shocked Bellamy, though he tried to hide it. Her quick eyes were trained on his face.
Three hundred and fifty-two years. Three hundred and fifty-two years he’d slept in this cave. All the time wasted on this beach, the world evolving into something completely unrecognizable. The last time he’d gone to sleep it had only been fifty years, and he’d missed.
“You’re not from around here are you?” Clarke asked, her head tilted to the side.
Bellamy chuckled darkly as he rubbed some dirt from his eyelashes. “No, not by a long shot.”
“Where did you come from then?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Bellamy looked at the small woman in front of him. She stood with her shoulders squared, a determined look on her face, nothing like the demure attitudes of the women from 1662. He’d tried to tell people of his ability before, the last time they had found out had led to his centuries long nap on this island. He didn’t like the idea of telling her, but he needed someone to show him around this new world, help him gain a strong foothold before he disappeared.
“Salem-”
“We already worked out that you’re not from around here. So you can quit the BS.”
“Salem, 1662.”
Clarke stared at him, incredulity written all over her face. Then she started laughing. “You’re messing with me aren’t you? So what, you’re a time traveler or something?”
Bellamy watched her laughter die out with an impassive face. “Not a time traveler.”
Clarke sized up his expression. “There’s no way you’re anything else.”
“I am an Immortal,” Bellamy said carefully. “I was chased onto this beach, accused of witchcraft, and I fell into a deep slumber to escape from the angry townsfolk.”
“You’re not kidding, are you?” Clarke asked, dumbstruck.
Bellamy shook his head. If only he was, if only he was able to move on with his life, rather than running from one town to the next to escape the scrutiny of the people.
Clarke’s knees buckled and she sat in the dirt her feet tucked up under her knees. Jasper came to nuzzle at her hair, offering some comfort to his mistress.
Bellamy sat down again a few feet in front of her, allowing her time to process this new information.
After a few minutes she spoke. “How old are you?”
Bellamy smiled. “I don’t quite know. I remember watching the Pyramids being built in Giza. I remember the commotion that came when Jesus was born. I remember the - ”
“Stop, stop,” Clarke exclaimed throwing her hands up to cover her face. After a moment she looked up. “Why should I believe you?” she asked.
“Would you like me to prove it?”
Clarke nodded.
Bellamy sighed and felt in his pockets for his whittling knife. He didn’t know how sharp it was considering it was over three centuries old, but it would have to do. Rolling up his formerly white sleeve he pressed the knife blade into his wrist and cut up to his forearm.
“No!” Clarke yelled as she jumped up, reaching for the knife, then stopped. She watched as the skin of his arm split apart and then a few seconds after Bellamy had pulled away the knife the skin knit itself together again without spilling a drop of blood or leaving any trace of a scar.
Clarke took hold of his wrist, pulling his arm closer for inspection. She trailed a finger in a line where the cut had been seconds before. “How did…. You just….”
“Do you believe me know?”
Clarke nodded mutely, still examining his arm.
Bellamy watched her with admiration. So far she hadn’t seemed repulsed by him, she hadn’t chased him away from her. She’d been shocked by him, that much was clear, but that was understandable.
Clarke took a deep breath and turned to the entrance of the cave, noticing the quickly darkening sky.
“You should come with me,” she said standing up and brushing the dirt off of her pants. “We can go to my house and get you cleaned up, my mom shouldn’t be home until late.”
“You don’t have to go to any trouble for me,” Bellamy interjected quickly, but Clarke shook her head.
“I can’t just leave you out here in this cave.” She picked up Jasper’s leash and started to walk down an overgrown path that let down to the beach.
By the time they’d managed to climb down the dune night had fallen in earnest. Bellamy could see some teenagers huddled around a campfire some thirty yards down the beach. Clarke and Jasper led him towards some strange boxes that Bellamy had noticed on their way down.
“What are these?” he asked when they reached the one that Jasper was running towards.
Clarke looked at him curiously. “It’s a car,” she said watching his reaction.
“Like a carriage?”
Clarke laughed. “Something like that.” She pulled something out of her pocket and the front of the car lit up for a moment. Bellamy jumped. He looked for the candle that had caused the flash, wondering how Clarke had managed to light it without matches or even being near them.
Clark pulled open a door on the left side of the car and Jasper jumped inside. She sat down in the seat ahead of him, with a wheel in front of her. She glanced up at Bellamy, as if just remembering he was there. She leaned over to the other side of the car and opened another door.
“Come on,” she called to him.
Bellamy shook his head and walked over to sit inside. Closing the door, he looked around him. The car was nothing like a carriage. All the seats faced one direction and there were no horses. Clarke put a key into a slot near the wheel in front of her. When it turned, the front of the carriage rumbled to life.
“You should buckle your seat belt,” she said in an offhand tone.
“My what?”
Clarke gestured to the strap of fabric that now sat across her chest and hips. “It’s behind you, you need to latch it by putting it in the thing down there.” She gestured to a lump near his left hip.
It took him a moment, but he got the concept.
Jasper stuck his face between the seats and started snuffling at Bellamy’s hair.
“Get back,” Clarke said, pushing his nose into the back with the rest of him. She moved a switch between their seats and the car moved backwards.
Bellamy was in awe. The car moved so effortlessly. Taking them back a few feet before Clarke moved the lever again and they were going forward, down a winding road.
Bellamy stared at everything. He saw signs that glowed without the flickering that came with flames. He watched as more cars passed them going the opposite direction. He saw how big the town had grown in the last couple hundred years as they flew down the smooth road.
Clarke took them down a few roads and towards a two story white house. She parked the car in a smaller path. She showed Bellamy how to unlock his seatbelt and how to open the door. They went inside.
Bellamy was in awe with everything around him. There was no end to the amazement it seemed.
Clarke touched a switch and light flared in the hallway of her house.
“Shoes off, if you don’t mind.”
Bellamy watched as she kicked off her flat shoes with a leather strap for a moment before he leaned down to do the same.
Clarke looked him up and down, pondering something. “This way.” She led him up a flight of stairs to a small room with a sink and two other items made out of porcelain.
“This is our bathroom,” she said showing him the tub. “You can shower in here, this is the toilet, you flush it once you’re done.” She showed him how to press a lever on the back and water came to wash everything away. She showed him how to use the shower and gave him a towel before she left.
Bellamy stripped down and stepped into the hot water. It was strange to have the water running over his head in a continuous stream, like a warm rain, but the droplets fell harder than rain would normally. Bellamy managed to get most of the grime off of himself and out of his hair. He used the shampoo he found in the shower. When he stepped out, he noticed a pile of clean clothes sitting on the edge of the sink.
After he got dressed, Bellamy went down the stairs towards the music he could hear. He walked into the kitchen to see Clarke dancing to the music completely oblivious to him as she cooked over a fire.
Bellamy cleared his throat. Clarke jumped.
“What are you making?” he asked, stifling a smile.
“I didn’t know what you ate, so I thought I’d make an omelet and some sausages. Would you like some?”
Bellamy nodded and Clarke brought out two ceramic plates, tipping half the giant omelet she’d made onto his plate and five sausages.
They ate in relative silence, aside from Jasper lapping up the food from his bowl.
After a few minutes Clarke looked up at Bellamy as he ate.
“What?” He asked.
“Your hair, we can’t really leave it like that.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
“No one wears it that long, usually,” she said as she stood and walked towards a drawer. She pulled out a long black handled scissors. “Once you’re done, you’re due for a haircut.”
Bellamy studied her face carefully. “Am I going to regret letting you near me with a scissors?”
Clarke shook her head, smiling.
Bellamy sighed and nodded grudgingly. He needed to blend in after all.
Clarke cleared away the plates and pulled out a plastic bag, pinning it around his neck and began snipping away at his hair.
Bellamy watched as long strands of hair fell around him. He liked the feeling of her fingers in his hair as she measured and snipped away. When she stepped in front of him to cut the hair at the front of his head, Bellamy didn’t know where to look. He settled for staring at a spot on the wall just past her left ear. He couldn’t make out what he thought of Clarke. She was strong and brave, and she could handle a crisis. Bellamy felt a deep need to understand her better, although he couldn’t determine why he felt this way.
A few minutes later Clarke stepped away to look at her handiwork.
“Not bad,” she said. “There’s a mirror in the hallway if you want to look.”
Bellamy nodded and stood up and walked to the hallway. His hair was now about two inches long, curling to right above his eyebrows and tucking behind his ears. In the green button down shirt and denim pants Clarke had given him, Bellamy looked like any of the other men he’d seen walking down the street.
Bellamy walked back into the kitchen to see Clarke with a broom and a dustpan sweeping up the last of the hair on the floor.
“Allow me to help,” he said reaching for the broom. She was being too kind to him, a stranger from a strange place, he needed to repay her.
Clarke shook her head. “I’m already finished. But, if you could clear the table that would be helpful.”
Bellamy nodded, and began to bring the dishes to the sink. As he looked around for a rag to wash the dishes, Clarke appeared by his elbow, giving him a sponge and giving him the soap.
“This is so different,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What is?” asked Clarke as she wiped the table down with a damp towel.
“Everything.”
Clarke gave him a gentle smile. She walked up to him and wrapped her hands around his waist.
Bellamy froze for a moment, surprised by her movement, before hugging her back. He couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged him like this, giving and receiving comfort. It had probably been the last time he’d seen Octavia. He hadn’t seen his sister since their stay in London at the turn of the fifteenth century. He wondered what had become of her.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” Clarke whispered into his chest. “You have me. And you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
“Thank you.”