A Hundred and One (The 100 Fan Fiction)

Chapter Twelve

'...I imagine I'm floating. Floating on the surface of a cool lake, a warm, bright sun shining down on me, it's rays comforting against my bare skin. I feel free, alive; like nothing on Earth or in Space could ever harm me. I am happy, as I cradle my growing bump in my hands, feeling life stur under my palms, my baby eager to see the world outside.'

Clarke opened her eyes to be greeted by the familiar dirty roof of her tent, the morning's sun shining lazily down on camp, seeping through the fabric of the tent and into her bright blue eyes. The haze of her long awaited dream was now becoming just a memory.

She slowly got herself out of bed, shifting her body to certain positions to get herself up; her now bulging bump was taking away Clarke's ability to move freely. She had now reached the point in her pregnancy when she just wanted it to be over.

"I'm sorry kiddo but you'll have to come out into this cold world soon, Mommy's getting uncomfortable." Clarke caressed her bump as she walked around the room, collecting her baggy maternity clothes for the day. She smiled to herself at talking to her bump and to call herself 'Mommy', she still felt strange thinking she was going to be one. She didn't feel ready, though soon, she would have to be.

After simply changing into her clothes, Clarke felt utterly exhausted. She felt like she wanted to sleep again but she couldn't, even if Bellamy had told her to relax. That just made her want to keep going all the more, being told she couldn't. Though maybe just a little cat nap would do the world of good, 'baby' seemed up for that idea anyway, as Clarke's tummy filled with gentle prods and kicks. "Okay, if you insist."

Clarke had been finding she was talking that bit more each day to her bump, just talking, talking about absolutely anything and everything. Clarke had been talking about how trees and plants drink up water from the earth one day, down by the eastern corner of camp, when someone walked past, catching the tail end of her mad conversation. They didn't say anything but their facial expression said it all. 'You have cracked.' Maybe she had but it didn't bother her, there was far more important things to think of than people thinking she was mad for talking to her baby.

She slowly sat herself down on the bed before shifting to lay herself down on her side. Her eyes closed as she let the world around her disappear. Her mind couldn't help but wonder, reeling through life so far on Earth. Her thoughts drifted to a time a few months ago, when Clarke had to let the camp know of her now happy predicament, a time when she had to tell Finn, tell him the truth, that she wasn't having his baby. A sharp kick in the ribs helped the thought along nicely.

—

After giving Bellamy the news, Clarke decided to wait a few days until telling the rest of the camp everything. Anyway, most people here knew, through the grapevine that Clarke was pregnant, it was just that they thought Finn was the father, not Bellamy. Well, there was nothing wrong with clearing all the rumours up but still, she wasn't looking forward to Finn finding out he wasn't going to be a father after all...even if it would seem he wasn't wanting to be one in the first place. She just hoped he wasn't growing on the idea.

Two days felt long enough. It gave Bellamy a bit of time to let the news sink in and Clarke to work out what to say to everyone. To Finn especially. She wasn't feeling too worried about what the rest of camp thought, people could have their thoughts and opinions but as long as it didn't affect the working rhythm of camp, Clarke could live with it. Besides, with the lingering feeling that any second now an attack by the Grounders was going to happen, for just stepping out of the moderate safety of camp, would squash any unsavoury train of thought in its tracks. Priorities and all that.

Clarke calmly paced around her tent, thinking of the words to say, building up the rhythm of it's delivery. In a few minutes, she'd have either broken Finn's heart with her news or released him from some form of metaphorical shackles he had put upon himself, all thanks to the little miracle so happily growing inside her. Clarke smiled to herself as she stroked her tiny bump through the fabric of her clothes. "Wish I could be safe and sound like you." She immediately laughed to herself at the fact she was now starting to talk to her baby. It felt weird doing so.