Kidnapped: Prisoners of Hell

Chapter 12

It's been over a week since Clarke had been rescued and the only people coming to her room have been her mother, Octavia, and Bellamy. Even her Doctor, Jackson, hardly stepped foot in the room. Her stress levels rose exponentially with strangers in close proximity, even more so in Bellamy and Octavia weren't in sight. But what most found interesting was that Bellamy was a man, and yet Clarke didn't mind his presence compared to anyone else.

After her 'interview' with Bellamy on when she was taken and the events that followed, she seemed closer to him. More trusting. But when it came to coming forwards with her story she spoke with Bellamy and only Bellamy. Anytime another officer comes in her room to speak with her or check on her per Bellamy's request, she clams up. It was difficult enough to relive and speak about those horrible memories, let alone or living and telling them to someone she didn't know right back. But with Bellamy it was easier.

They took it slow, day by day, unraveling the events that unfolded. The trauma of what happened was far to fresh to divulge in telling it all so soon. Between their visits Bellamy makes sure to help Clarke clear her mind, distract her from the world around her. Being trapped in the hospital with police officers watching over her was hardly better than the hell she escaped. But Bellamy has made sure to bring her books and a sketch book with drawing supplies. Anything he could think of to allow her the little freedom she had while she healed.

Today was one of the resting days Clarke was given to herself. A time to indulge herself with sketching and reading before anyone visits her. Bellamy wasn't sure what books intrigued her so he lent her several of his own favorites. One of the first being the Iliad. When she woke and allowed the nurses to do their rounds, Clarke picked up where she left off. Only a few hours pass before goosebumps arise in her arms and a slight shiver runs down her spine, a sense her body has grown to learn when another was near. Trusting her body Clarke looks up from her book and turns towards the door of her room. The book falls closed as she gasps, the man standing at the door

"Dad?!" The man smiles through the tears that burst from his eyes as he surges forward , his arms quickly wrapping around her as she leaps forward and sobs into his shoulder. Sobs that quietly turn into a groan. Jake tries to pull away but his daughter keeps him close.

"Don't please." She cries. He nods at her request as he shifts to sit on the edge and holds her hands as they both relish in the moment.

Ten long years since the father and daughter have seen one another. Ten long years since they've heard each other's voices. When they pull apart he cups her cheek and she reaches out to his face.

"You grew a beard?" Griffin smiles as he dips his head. "You look like Grandpa." For the first time in years Jake Griffin laughs, his smile widening as he hears Clarke laugh along with him.

"I'm so sorry kiddo. I should have been there. I should have-"

"Stop." Clarke pulls away then and tightens her grip on her father's hands. "Dad... You didn't know." He looks her over, really looks her over and gulps down the emotions that were biking once more. His happiness fell into anger but was quickly being replaced by sadness. Pure and utter grief.

Here sitting before him was his long lost child. His little girl that was taken away, tortured, and hurt for years. Her childhood stolen from her, her hope and innocence gone. Not a single trace of light was left shining in her ocean blue eyes. All that was there, residing in her face, was exhaustion. It was a weight she held on her shoulders that no child should ever have to hold. But Clarke was no longer a child, she was a young woman now. And he missed it all.

"Dad."

"I'm okay." Clarke shakes her head in disbelief and reaches out but he holds her hand in his. "How do you feel honey?"