Torn

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Clarke

"God you're such an idiot"  she chastised herself as she ran to her tent

What was she thinking? Bellamy? How?

She groaned as she stepped into her tent and zipped the flap shut-no more unwanted visitors. She flopped onto her bed and stuffed her face into her pillow. How is this even happening? Finn died only a month ago. How could she possibly think she was ready to love anyone; especially him.

She inhaled his shirt, the scent of pine and oranges wafting around the tent. God, she never wanted to take it off. It was so soft, but somehow he was so coarse and unrefined. How would she ever smooth his edges.

Maybe you don't have to you dimwit. Clarke's inner voice spoke up again, she was started to get annoyed

"Stop," she whispered to herself, her lip trembling, "Please, just stop."

Someone scratched on her tent, "Clarke? You in there." It was Pascal

Pascal was from farm station, his parents both agricultural engineers. He was a cute kid, some might even say handsome. Tall, sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes. Hell, he was pretty handsome; and a hard worker.

She breathed, "Yeah, yea I'm here." She stood up, "What's up"

"Uh, can I come in? I, I just wanna talk to you bout' something." He said nervously

Clarke softened and unzipped the flap, "Yea sure, come in Pas."

She patted his shoulder, "What's wrong."

Pascal glanced at her clothes but didn't say anything about their sizes. He glanced back at the open flap.

"Do you want me to zip it, if it'll make you more comfortable?"

"Only if you want." his voice was small

Clarke's mother reflex's took over, "Here sit down, drink some water." She handed him her canteen, sitting him down on the bed. She walked over to the flap and zipped it, "Okay, you're safe."

Pascal smiled in gratitude, "Thanks Clarke."

Clarke sat next to him and took a heavy sigh, "For what?"

"For everything." He waved the canteen around, "For keeping us alive, keeping us fed and safe and protected. We wouldn't have lasted a day without you." He looked at Clarke, handing her back the canteen, "Honestly, I don't think anyone has ever thanked you for what you're doing. I know you didn't ask to be our leader," he lowered his voice, "I know you didn't ask for any of this." 

"Yeah..." she said staring at the floor, her mind elsewhere, her eyes misty

Pascal put a hand on her knee to let her know that he was there, that he would listen. She turned to face him, a pained smile across her face, "Yeah,  I know I didn't ask for any of this, but then again, who did?" She tied her hair into a ponytail

Pascal leaned to her shoulder, "I think you're a really brave person. And strong too. And patient, and wise, and smart, and resourceful..."

Okay, this was getting weird.

Clarke looked at him slightly confused, "Why are you saying all of thi-"

She was cut off when Pascal kissed her, he held her knee so she wouldn't move.

"Pas!" Clarke exclaimed, shoving him off her. She stood up, "What the hell was that?!"

Pascal chuckled, standing, his height towering above her, "What's wrong Clarke? Afraid of a little intimacy?"

"You need to leave Pas, now." She said stepping aside, "You're drunk."

'C'mon" he said pushing her against the tent wall, "What's wrong?"

"Get your filthy hands off of me. Now." She spat, struggling against his strength

Pascal leaned into her and smelled her neck, "Now, don't be like that." he grabbed her face, "Be the  good little princess you are." he whispered kissing her again

Clarke bit his lip, "Don't, call me princess."

Pascal threw her onto the bed and swung his legs over her.

"No, no get off me. Get off me!" Pascal held her hands in his, crushing her fingers

He kissed her neck, "Stop! Help, someone help!" Clarke screamed

"Stop struggling." he grunted slapping her face, he kissed her again

"No," she cried, "Someone! Help! Bellamy! Bellamy! Let go of me Pascal! This isn't you, this isn't you!"

He struck her again, harder and she cried out biting his hand, "Bellamy! Bella-"

She heard someone running towards the tent, "Bellamy!" she screamed as Pascal wrapped his hands around her throat

"Clarke!" she could hear Bellamy's voice, "Clarke!"

"Help! Bellamy help!" she wheezed, her hands pounding aginst Pascal hopelessly

Bellamy

"Clarke-" Bellamy burst in

He saw Pascal on her, "Bell-"

Bellamy tackled Pascal, punching him in the gut. Bellamy punched him in the face and threw him to the ground, striking him again and again and  again till he was bleeding and half conscious.  Pascal groaned and let out a dry laugh, Bellamy knocked him out with one last defining crack.

Clarke was gasping in air her hands on the bed, her body convulsing, sobbing. She couldn't breath, she couldn't see.

Bellamy ran to her and wrapped his arms around her, "You're okay, you're safe. Shh, shhh..." he enveloped her in his arms sitting on the bed, her body melting into his, he stroked her hair, "You're okay, it's okay. Breathe, breathe.." His voice was soft and Clarke sobbed into his arm. He kept repeating to Clarke over and over again that she was okay, that she was safe, stroking her hair, his voice smooth like honey. He rocked her back and forth till her tears subsided and she eventually fell asleep.

That's it.

He wouldn't let her out of his sight.

He carried her to his tent and laid her down on the bed. His mind went on safety mode and he worked quickly. He zipped the tent, switched off the lamp, took off her boots and his and got into bed next to her. He wrapped his arm around her like a shield and hid her within the blanket. And like that, his arms around her, her body molded to the shape of his chest and legs, her head under the blanket Bellamy stayed awake.

He wouldn't let her out of his sight. And in the morning, he would kill Pascal.