It's Not Yours (Bellarke)

2 - Sneaking Out

7 weeks

Problem is, Bellamy will be expecting Clarke to try and flee. He'll have expected her escape and told the sentries at the gates to not let her through. And she can't go through the wall; what if something bad happened while she was out? Her best bet is probably to wait a couple days, and then make her escape through the front doors.

- - 2 days - -

   Clarke wakes up to an immense headache. At first she thinks its better than the nausea, but soon realizes she's wrong. The headache is much much worse.
   She slowly pulls back her sheets, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. As she gets to her feet she can't help but feel pain in her lower back. Not only that, but she feels lethargic, and she went to bed early last night.
   She slowly gets dressed, trying her hardest to ignore her aches. When she's done she pulls on a jacket, and then heads out.
  With just her luck, Bellamy's walking past as she opens the door.
   "Well good morning Princess." He greets.
   "No. It's a horrible morning."
   "No nausea today? How is that horrible?"
   "This headache is horrible. My back hurts. And I'm exhausted."
   "Ah. More symptoms yet you're still going with the good old, 'it's just a bug'."
   "It's just some aches. I'm probably just dehydrated or something."
   Bellamy shakes his head, "You're unbelievable."
   They walk through the door and toward the general meeting area. A large group of people have already collected, mingling about and awaiting orders.
   "Good morning everybody." Bellamy calls out, catching everyone's attention. The chatter dies down. His eyes scan the crowd as he continues, "Today's going to be very similar to yesterday. Those of you building the Cabins, keep working. The same goes for those of you collecting wood. Those of you who are helping repair Arcadia, I suggest you get on it immediately."
   Bellamy looks over to Clarke as if to say, "your turn."
   She clears her throat, "After today we should be back up on our food stock, and have enough to go through the winter."
   The people cheer, woots and whistles filling the air.
   Clarke smiles, "We are also ahead of schedule on Cabins. After today we should have the first one built. Everybody else is running perfectly on schedule. And Don't forget to come to us if you have an idea that might help. We're all ears."
"We just want to thank you guys for all the hard work. We've been demanding a lot but you guys just keep going at it. We really appreciate it." Bellamy says.
"To help show you all that we're thankful, we've decided to throw a party tonight." Hoots and hollers begin coming from the crowd, "BUT! Everyone still has to work hard today. Otherwise we'll call it off." Clark continues, "Everybody understand?"
There are murmurs and shouts of excitement from the crowd; several people nodding their heads.
"Alright. Then let's get to work!" Bellamy orders.
The crowd disperses, people eager to get started.
Bellamy starts to walk off, but Clark grabs his wrist, stopping him.
"Let me go out today, please."
Bellamy sighs, "No Clarke."
"Bellamy, please. I just want to go on the hunting party so I can go get some herbs."
"We don't need herbs."
"You never know what might come in the winter Bellamy. What if there's a sickness we don't know how to treat, or don't have the medication for?"
"You don't even know what herbs do what."
"But Lincoln does."
He's quiet for a while.
"It can't hurt to be over prepared." Clarke points out.
Bellamy sighs, "I thought you had a headache?
"Well, I mean, I do, but-"
"You're not going."
"What? Why!"
"Because. You need to stay here where it's safe."
"What?"
"Clarke, wether you choose to believe it or not, you're carrying another person. You need to be safe."
She huffs.
"I'm fed up with your 'you're pregnant' stuff. I'm not pregnant."
Bellamy shakes his head. "Whatever. You're still not going out."

Clarke looks around, sneaking along the side of Arcadia. Most people are too busy working to pay attention as she moves around the corner, disappearing behind the large piece of scrap metal.
She lets out a breath, leaning up against the wall. She hasn't even left camp and she's already tired. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Bellamy was right...
No. No no. Clarke is doing this, and what she's doing is right. Not Bellamy.
   She's grown desperate. She figured Bellamy would never let her out, so the only real way would be to sneak out the back. Besides, this is her last chance- Bellamy mentioned yesterday that they'd be fixing the wall in a couple days. At least she threw the idea past him- if something does go wrong, for whatever reason, Bellamy will have a hunch.
She pushes herself off the wall, walking towards the gap. She squeezes through, finally able to relax once she's outside. It's like a weight being lifted off her shoulders. She doesn't have a responsibility anymore, she doesn't have to carry the weight of what she's done for the people she cares about. All she has to do is stand there.
She wanders into the woods, closing her eyes as she listens to the birds tweeting in the trees. Everything feels peaceful.
She begins searching for herbs. She quickly finds a herb that's on the list Lincoln drew her. It's tall and skinny with little purple flowers at the top. She carefully picks them, gently putting them into her bag. When she's done she carries on, searching for more.
Clarke's not sure how long she's been gone when she reaches a stream. She's never seen this stream; never knew it existed. She decides to turn around, given she doesn't know where she is. She's found at least five of everything on her list except for a select few, so she's probably good to head back.
Her feet are absolutely killing her as she trudges over fallen logs and broken branches. The weeds brush high along her waist, bushes and tiny trees providing more cover. Clarke bends over as she reaches a large rock, the aches from her back and head causing a drain of her energy. She takes a seat, massaging her forehead.
"You are far from home Wanheda." A gruff voice sounds from behind her.
She jumps, spinning around.
There stands a grounder, a large axe in hand.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trespass on your land-"
The grounder lets out a dark chuckle, chest shaking, "I'm not going to kill you because you're on Trikru land. No, I'm going to kill you because you are Wanheda."
Clarke pulls out the hand gun tucked into her waistband, aiming it at the grounder.
"Wanheda? What is that?" She asks, watching as he grips his axe.
"The commander of death. You are the one who killed the mountain men, yes? It's said that who ever kills Wanheda receives her power."
"Well. I'm sorry to tell you, but I'm afraid me dying isn't going to happen."
The grounder rushes towards her. She steps back, but her foot gets caught on a root. She trips, falling backwards. The grounder throws his axe. Clarke rolls away just in time, barely missing the blade as it hits the ground next to her. She hisses as her head throbs, pushing herself to face the grounder. He growls as he yanks the axe from the ground.
Clarke tries to take aim, pulling the trigger. She misses horribly, vision blurry from the headache. The gun gets swatted out of her hands, disappearing in the grass to her left. She kicks her feet, hitting him between the legs. He grumbles, falling to his knees. He pins her shoulders to the ground, hands wrapping around her neck. she grips his arms, hitting his inner-elbow in attempt to get him to collapse.
"You're weak Wanheda. Slow and predictable. My four year old can fight better than you."
"Please-" she wheezes, gasping for air.
His hands tighten around her throat, almost clasping her airway shut. Clarke moves to claw at his grasp, trying to pry him off.
Her head pounds harder, the sound of her heart pumping blood filling her ears.
Bellamy was right. She should have stayed at camp where she was safe.
She didn't get to say goodbye.
"I'd never forgive myself if I didn't get to say goodbye."
"You're not a monster Clarke. Monsters don't feel bad for what they do. You did what had to be done."
Her lungs burn from the lack of air. The corners of her vision start to blacken, everything else turning red. She stops thrashing, too weak to try and get free.
      "You're pregnant. Don't tell me you haven't realized?" Bellamy's voice echoes through her head, "You're being ignorant."
"Please," she gasps, a tear rolling down her cheek, "mm-my b-baby-"
The grounder's hands loosen, just slightly, and Clarke's able to suck in a breath.
"What?" He snaps.
"My-my baby," she gasps, trying to get as much air as she can. She might not get another chance later.
And then the grounder is gone, the hands disappearing from around her neck.

A/N
Extremely busy. Had this part already written. Not sure when next update will be. Sorry.