madjm made a post wishing for a fic where Clarke had drawn Bellamy and then accidentally left it with the Mount Weather map for him to find after he left. I decided to give it a shot.
It had just been a rough sketch, started when the stress of Finn and worry over the 47 in Mount Weather became too much. She’d needed to do something, anything, with her hands, and he had been sitting there, speaking with Octavia. Before she even realized what she was doing, she had drawn the outline of his face, had begun to detail his eyes.
Clarke… well, she hated to leave anything undone, and so she’d found herself adding to it whenever she had a spare moment. She’d struggled over the shape of his lips, but she’d found adding the careful detail of his freckles had been enjoyable.
And then the Grounders had made their demands for Finn, and Clarke had tucked the picture away and forgotten about it. Until now, when she was tearing her blankets apart looking for it, because she had been strong. She had pushed aside weakness and sent Bellamy away for the good of all, but damn if the guilt of that didn’t threaten to rise up and choke her. So she needed to see his face, and the only way she could do that is if she found the damn picture.
I was weak. It’s worth the risk.
Clarke froze, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, because her stomach roiled and threatened to expel the little she had managed to eat since this whole mess had begun. God, she had sent him away thinking she was willing to risk his life.
God, she was willing to risk his life. And knowing that made her hurt, but it would be better if she could just find the damn picture, explain herself to his face, if not the actual him.
Where had she had it last?
She had been working on it. She could remember that. She had been watching him… had he been talking to Kane? Maybe Raven? But there had been a spark in his eye, a spark that was distinctly Bellamy, and she had been determined to bring that spark to life in her drawing. But then Murphy had come, and of course she wasn’t going to let Murphy of all people see what she was doing. So she had… she had…
She had shoved it into her other papers.
Her other papers had been the map of Mount Weather.
The map of Mount Weather that was now miles away. With Bellamy.
She felt her legs give out and she landed on her sleeping bag. She stared at the top of her makeshift tent and then, against her will, she began to laugh. She laughed until the laughter became tears, and then she cried, because she now she didn’t even have a picture of him to help keep her strong.
It had been sent away – just like she had sent him away.
They had stopped to camp for the night, because Lincoln said they should be well rested for what came next, and though everything in Bellamy screamed to keep going, he couldn’t deny the other man’s wisdom.
The only problem was, he couldn’t sleep.
Lincoln lay across the fire, and if he wasn’t already out, then he was doing a good impression of it. So Bellamy figured he’d take first watch and spend the time figuring out what to do once he got into Mount Weather.
It’s worth the risk.
He blinked and tried to push the words out of his mind, to push Clarke’s expression as she said them out of his mind. Clarke was determined to save their people, and she was a smart girl. It only made sense that she would eventually see the logic in his words.
Didn’t stop it from cutting him when she did, though.
He sighed and pulled out the map. He had looked at it a hundred times before with Clarke, of course. She had a real talent, and it showed in the incredibly detailed map she had developed of the inner workings of Mount Weather. He unfolded the paper, only for another one to tumble out. He stared at it for a moment, lying on the ground, and then he scrambled for it.
Maybe this was a note from Clarke. Maybe there was more to it, than just it’s worth the risk. Maybe she had learned something and –
He stared at the paper, not quite comprehending what he was seeing.
Clarke had a real talent. The detail she could put onto paper was amazing. Tiny little things, like the freckles across his nose. She even drew a little scar he had on his chin, one he forgot he had half the time.
Bellamy looked at the drawing, undeniably in Clarke’s hand, because her style was unmistakable – and stared at his own face. He stared, because he couldn’t quite believe it. Clarke was talented, but Bellamy knew something like this took time. So when had she –
He thought back, remembering feeling her gaze on him. Whenever he had looked, she had been staring down at her paper, working tirelessly on what he had assumed to be the map… but looking at that, he saw that not much had changed since that first time he saw it. A few added details, some things switched around, but it was mostly the same. And that meant…
That meant that he had felt her gaze on him. That she had been watching him. Watching him and drawing him. He held the paper in his fingers and traced his own features, and he realized that this was how Clarke Griffin saw him.
He had a tiny smirk, and he had no idea how he got that kind of detail into his eyes. There was… there was a challenge there, a glint in his eyes, the slightest of arches in his brow. Bellamy knew Clarke cared about him, that she even needed him in some ways. It had been a lot of trial and error, but they had fallen into positions of leadership over their people, and Bellamy knew that neither of them could have kept as many alive as they had without the other.
But he’d always assumed that outside of that, he was a bit of a non-entity to Clarke. Clarke who looked at Finn like he hung the moon, and who was so determined to keep everyone alive that she wouldn’t even truly give the boy she loved the time of day. And it would have made sense to Bellamy, if he had opened this paper and found Finn’s face, because that would be the closest thing to longing that the Princess would allow herself.
What he didn’t understand, was why it was his face there instead.
I was weak.
Whenever he thought of Clarke’s words he always focused on the last part – It’s worth the risk – when it was the first three words that held far more meaning.
She thought that loving Finn had made her weak. Bellamy stared at the picture, and cursed himself for an idiot. Hadn’t he been thinking, how much he could identify with Gustus, who would do anything for his Commander, even if it meant disobeying her?
Why hadn’t it occurred to him, that Clarke could probably identify with Lexa?
Lexa, who wore a stoic expression and showed no weakness, even though killing Gustus must have killed a piece of her?
Lexa had killed Gustus to give her people their best chance.
Clarke had sent Bellamy away to give their people theirs.
His grip on the picture tightened, began to crumple it, and he immediately loosened his hold, not wanting to damage what must have taken most of Clarke’s rare moments of peace. He smoothed out the edges, and before he really knew what was happening, he realized that his smirk mirrored the one that Clarke had drawn on his features.
He had left the camp understanding why Clarke had sent him away, but feeling hurt that she had been so capable of risking his life, so soon after saying she couldn’t lose him, too.
Well, Princess could deny her weaknesses all she wanted, but Bellamy was going to survive this. He was going to survive this and save their people, and then he would make it back to her and return the picture.
And he would let her know that he wasn’t going to be just a weakness for her to ignore.