Bellarke Oneshots

Ten- He is my home

*in which Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, Monty & Jasper go scouting, and end up getting ambushed. Clarke's injured, but doesn't tell anyone.*

Clarke's POV:

On the ark, I thought rotting in a cold, metal cell was the worst it could get. Oh, how I was wrong. But earth, it was prettier. The amount of green that climbed up trees and spread across fields was overwhelming, and the sun, its golden beams cascaded down on me, providing more warmth then any room on the ark.

But anywhere on the ark, was safer. The dark and cold always made a shiver run down my spine, but I never was worried about wars blooming in the middle of the night. Or grounders slitting everyone's throats. Oh, how I took our safety and innocence for grated, in the skybox.

Yet out of all things, I was more grateful for earth and the people it brought me. Monty, Jasper, Octavia, even Bellamy. All of which, walked slower than me, trudging over the logs, and dragging their legs across the moss.

"For god's sake, you three. We need to make it to that mountain before dark." I spun on my heel, slightly irritated. "In order for us to have any chance, we need that advantage point on the peak. This war isn't going to fight itself." 

"Calm down, princess." I raised an eyebrow, but let Bellamy continue. "We have at least 4 hours until the sun sets. We can make it there in three." 

I lifted a pack off my shoulders, letting it settle in the soil by my feet. "Not at this rate. Plus, don't you want to have time to find shelter? Food, water?" My tongue ran across my lips, and I challenged him. "But, by all means Mr. Blake, if you need a break; take one."

"Fine," Bellamy let a low growl roll off his tongue. "Speed it up, guys." 

I nodded my head, bending over to pick my pack up. My fingers grasped the thick material of the strap-- and a shot echoed. Not in the distance, but a bullet had grazed past the tip of my ear, embedding itself in the tree trunk behind me. 

I heard Bellamy's hand wrapping around the metals of his pistol, and the leather belt rubbing against the handgun when he softly pulled it from beneath his belt. Jasper and Monty let us know they were uncomfortable-- and Octavia, was horrified.

Bellamy's raspy voice sounded silently, just loud enough for us to hear. "When I say go, run. In an inconsistent pattern, don't let them know your next move." He took a deep breath, clicking the safety "off" on the pistol. "Go."  

We took off on our own trails, zig zagging across the wood ridden floor. The land had blurred into a mix of earthy hues, and one step at a time, the large trees flew behind me. 

Though in the distance, I heard Bellamy yell, shots firing directly after the commotion. 

"Shit." I planted the soles of my combat boots harder in the dirt, pushing off the ground with a faster speed. In a clearing, three men had surrounded Bellamy-- pushed him to the ground and had successfully knocked the gun from his hands. 

I sucked in a breath, shaky hands reaching for the dagger in my boot. I ran to the scene, arms gripping tightly around a man's body. It was enough to knock us both to the ground, but the male had turned, his hands fiddling for his weapon. I forced my palms to squeeze the metals of the dagger tighter, and sunk the blade into the center of his throat. His eyes found mine, and for a moment-- I felt bad, the way he was raised was never his fault. But it was the way of life, and to survive-- sacrifices must be made. He collapsed into the dirt below, hands still grapping at the wound in his throat.