"Okay, Miss Griffin, take a seat." Finn gestured to the seat opposite him.
Clarke sat in the seat, pulling the jacket tighter around her. Since she wasn't allowed anyone in the interview room with her, Bellamy had given her his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. Then, with a promise from Bellamy that he'd be waiting right outside, Clarke walked into the room, ready to give her statement. Luckily for her, Finn was the officer chosen to take her statement against Cage.
"Thank you." Clarke mumbled.
Finn shuffled some papers and pressed record on the tape recorder sat on the table beside him. He looked up at Clarke with a reassuring smile as he stated the time and date for Clarke's statement.
"Okay, take your time." Finn nodded. "Whenever you're ready, Clarke."
Clarke took a deep breath, her hands fisted the soft material draped over her shoulders. Bellamy's scent filled her nostrils and Clarke instantly felt a wave of calmness wash over her.
"Cage Wallace ruined my life. He took everything from me. He took my friends, my family, my hopes and dreams, everything. He wore me down until I was too broken to even think for myself, let alone live for myself." Clarke said. She had been going over her statement since she'd received the call two days ago.
"How was your relationship with Mr Wallace in the beginning?" Finn asked.
"It was great. It was everything I ever could have hoped for. He respected me, listened to me. He would treat me like I was the most precious thing in the world." Clarke nodded.
"What changed?" Finn asked.
Clarke then went on to talk about her mothers affair and the deal she'd made with Cage's father to keep said affair a secret, only for it to end in the murder of her father. That was when Cage had changed, he'd become a different person, he'd become a monster.
"What did he do to you, Clarke?" Finn asked softly.
"He ruined me." Clarke said, a tear sliding down her cheek.
"Mr Wallace was physically abusive towards you, wasn't he?" Finn asked. Clarke nodded her head. "Can you tell me about that?"
"He, uh, he'd get angry, sometimes at me, sometimes at other people or things not working out his way, but he always took it out on me. He'd lash out, punch me, kick me, throw me around, anything to leave a bruise." Clarke sniffled. "Once he broke my rib, and even he seemed to think he'd gone too far. He apologised straight away, but said he couldn't take me to hospital, people would ask questions. I thought after that he'd stop, I thought he realised what he was doing to me."
"But it just carried on?" Finn said.
Clarke nodded her head. "He would hit me in places that would hurt enough to leave me on the ground, but not enough to need medical attention. He was smart."
"You're doing great Clarke." Finn nodded. "Can you tell me about the incident with your mother and Bellamy?"
Clarke sucked in a shuddery breath. "Um, Cage had my mother held hostage by two of his guards. She tried to tell me to get out, but I couldn't just leave her. I knew she was only there because Cage wanted me. Cage said he wanted to teach me a lesson, he told me about Bellamy betraying me and giving Cage my new number so he could contact me. Then he shot my mother. Said that I now knew what it felt like to have nothing and no one. That was always his final goal, take everything away from me so I'd willingly go back to him. He just wanted to control me."
"That's why he always let you go?" Finn asked, nodding his head.
"Yes. He told me that he was waiting for me to go back to him willingly. He kept saying he was the only one who truly cared about me and that everything he did to me was for my own benefit." Clarke nodded, wiping at the tears in her eyes.
"Thank you, Clarke." Finn nodded. He hit stop on the recorder and put his pen back on the table.
"Is that it? Am I done?" Clarke asked. She just wanted to get out of here and go home. She just wanted to curl up in Bellamy's arms and forget about everything.
"That's it." Finn nodded. "But before you go, I just want to say what you're doing is very brave Clarke. To stand up to your abuser takes a lot of strength. Whether you realise it or not, you're strong Clarke."
Clarke nodded her head with a small smile. "Thank you."
Finn stood from his chair, and Clarke followed him out the room. As promised, Bellamy was sat in a chair in the hall outside the door. He looked up as soon as Clarke stepped into the hall. Bellamy didn't hesitate to rush over to her, wrapping his arms around her.
"You okay?" Bellamy asked.
Clarke nodded her head. "I'm okay."
"Thank you for your statement Clarke." Finn said, shaking her hand. "Someone will be in contact as soon as Cage is sentenced."
"Thank you." Clarke nodded. Then she turned to Bellamy. "Let's go home."
~~~~
The next day, Bellamy sat on Clarke's bed, flicking through his phone while Clarke sat on the floor on the other side of the room. She had a blank canvas in front of her, paints scattered on the floor around her. She held a brush in her hand, staring at the white square in front of her. The room was silent, no sound apart from the occasional shuffle of movement from Clarke.
That was until she let out a groan of frustration and threw the brush down on the floor beside her. It bounced twice before landing at the side of the bed.
"What's wrong?" Bellamy asked, looking up from his phone.
"I don't know what to paint." Clarke pouted. "It's like my inspiration just got up and walked away!"
Bellamy let out a low chuckle and swung his legs off the bed. He bent down to pick up the discarded paintbrush before walking over to Clarke and dropping to a crouch in front of her.
"Well, what inspired you before?" Bellamy asked, spinning the paintbrush between his fingers.
"I don't know, it wasn't so much inspiration as a means to an escape. Painting helped me forget about how much of a shit show my life was." Clarke sighed.
"Didn't you paint before you met Cage?" Bellamy asked, brow raised.
"Well yeah, but I can't even remember what life was like before he came along." Clarke shrugged.
"Alright, well think back to when you first realised you liked painting, what did you paint then?" Bellamy asked.
Clarke went quiet for a moment, finally she looked up at Bellamy, hesitating.
"You don't have to tell me, Princess, let your work do the talking." Bellamy smiled, holding out the paintbrush for her to take.
Clarke took the brush slowly, nodding her head. And then, she opened her first tube of paint. Bellamy smiled at her before turning back to the bed, dropping down on the mattress. His legs extended in front of him, ankles crossed, while he let Clarke do her thing.
An hour later, Bellamy decided to head downstairs to get something to eat. Before he walked out the door, he asked Clarke if she wanted anything, but Clarke simply shook her head, too engrossed in her work to even look up at him. She was currently sketching something with a charcoal pencil, her tongue poking out the corner of her lips. Bellamy watched her for a second, admiring the way her eyes flicked over the canvas, full of passion and life.
Bellamy walked into the kitchen to find Octavia already standing by the sink. She had her back to him, but she glanced over her shoulder as he walked in, smiling at him.
"Hey big brother." Octavia grinned. "Where's Clarke?"
"She's upstairs, I think she's finally found her passion for painting again." Bellamy smiled, walking over to the fridge. He pulled out all the ingredients to make himself a sandwich and placed them on the island counter.
"Oh good! I'm still waiting for her to paint me something, seeing as you stole the last one." Octavia teased. "What's she working on this time?"
"No idea, she won't let me see yet." Bellamy shrugged.
"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be great." Octavia smiled, turning back to the sink.
"What are you doing?" Bellamy asked, nodding to the sink.
"Trying to get a coffee stain out of a white t-shirt." Octavia rolled her eyes. "It's Lincoln's."
Bellamy snorted a laugh. "He's already got you doing his laundry?"
"No, I offered, now I wish I hadn't." Octavia grumbled, scrubbing fiercely at the stain.
"Why not just throw it and get a new one?" Bellamy asked.
"Because I told him I could save it." Octavia rolled her eyes again. "I also may have bragged about being able to get any stain out of anything, so I have to get it out now."
Bellamy laughed at his sister. She'd always been too stubborn for her own good at times. But Bellamy hoped she never lost her stubborn streak. It was part of what made her the incredible woman she was today.
"Well, good luck." Bellamy chuckled.
"Maybe I could just buy a new one and just tell him I got the stain out?" Octavia raised a brow. "He'd never know."
Bellamy snorted a laugh, he put all the food back in the fridge before picking up his sandwich. As he turned to walk out, he called over his shoulder.
"I'll know!"
"Don't you dare, Bellamy Blake!" Octavia shouted as he rounded the corner.
Bellamy let out a loud laugh and made his way up the stairs again to Clarke's bedroom. However, before he opened the door, something made him pause. A soft voice, quiet and gentle. Bellamy's grin stretched across his face as he realised, Clarke was singing. He pushed the door open slowly and stood in the doorway. Clarke was still sat on the floor, her legs crossed underneath her. The canvas was stood up, Clarke's hand resting on the top to keep it upright. Her eyes were focused on the work in front of her, so fixed on the canvas that she hadn't noticed Bellamy watching her.
Bellamy couldn't even describe how happy it made him to hear Clarke singing again. He hadn't heard her sing since the last time he'd caught her singing and painting. He wondered if she even realised she was doing it. Did she only sing when she painted? He walked further into the room, placing his plate on the bedside table. This time, when Clarke spotted him, she didn't jump. She grinned up at him, eyes sparkling.
"Hey! I think I'm finished!" Clarke beamed.
"That's great, Princess!" Bellamy smiled. "Can I see it?"
"Okay, but remember it's been a while, in fact it's been years since I've done anything like this." Clarke said quickly. "So it's probably not that.."
"Clarke." Bellamy cut her off. "Stop doubting yourself."
"Sorry, force of habit." Clarke shrugged.
"Well stop. You're incredibly talented, so stop worrying and show me the painting." Bellamy smiled.
Clarke nodded her head and stood up. Bellamy sat on the edge of the bed as Clarke walked towards him. She sat down beside him and slid the painting across, allowing him to take it from her.
"Be honest. Tell me if it's terrible." Clarke said.
Bellamy looked down at the canvas in his hands. His eyes slowly roaming over the entire square, taking in every inch of color and charcoal marking. He didn't have any words. How could he find the words to describe the masterpiece in front of him. Staring back at her, were two very familiar faces. One very recognisable portrait of Octavia's face and shoulders, smiling her signature bright smile. Clarke had even captured the mischievous twinkle in her left eye and the small beauty mark on her neck. The detailing on her face was incredible, almost as if Clarke had printed a photograph and stuck it to the canvas. Beside Octavia's face, was his own. Once again, Clarke had captured his every detail perfectly, right down to the scattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones. If he hadn't just witnessed Clarke paint it herself, he would have sworn it was a photograph in his hands.
"Is it bad? You can tell me, I won't be upset." Clarke said quickly. Bellamy realised he'd been quiet for too long. Clarke had mistaken his silence for a negative response.
"Clarke." Bellamy whispered. "There is something wrong."
"What?! Oh my god it's terrible isn't it!" Clarke exclaimed.
"No, you forgot to sign it." Bellamy smiled, turning his face towards her.
"What? So it's not terrible?" Clarke asked.
"Are you kidding? Clarke, this is incredible! I've never seen anything like this before." Bellamy grinned.
"You like it?" Clarke asked, a smile creeping on her face.
"I love it, Princess." Bellamy nodded. "But, you are going to have to do another, because I promised Octavia could have your next one. And there's no way I'm giving this up to her."
"I can do that." Clarke chuckled. "Thank you for being my inspiration."
She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Bellamy responded with a kiss to her forehead.
"Anytime, Princess."