Clarke

I pulled the black beanie farther over my blond curls and frowned at myself in the side of the black truck. My hair was too yellow and my eyes too blue, it seriously negated my entirely black outfit. I looked over at Bellamy, who, of course, pulled off black perfectly with his olive skin and dark hair.

Bellamy was keeping his promise to help me find my father. We were in the back of an FBI car, the kind that they transport prisoners in, on our way to a secret meeting. He was taking me to meet a special ops team that was in charge of my father's safety. Apparently they were the best of the best. (Of course, if they were the best, I figured they should have been able to keep him safe in the first place).

I felt Bellamy's eyes on me, but I didn't turn to meet them. No matter how hard I tried, he could always see exactly what I was thinking and I didn't need another talk about how everything would be okay. He couldn't know that, and I didn't need or want false hope.

The truck pulled to a stop, and I could hear the static of men on walkie talkies and the solid pounding of boots on concrete. The back door opened, and Bellamy and I hopped out.

A man wearing full SWAT gear led us up the stairs of an old building to what must be a room used for secret FBI business. It was all very old school, no high tech gadget, and honestly not what I had been expecting at all.

The room we were in had a long table that could seat at least twenty people, but other than that, was completely empty. Bellamy must have noticed me staring around the room like an idiot, because he took my hand in his. His voice was low and almost soothing. "Are you okay, Clarke?"

I nodded my head. "Yes. But do you think these people are going to help us? I mean, what can they do?"

Bellamy's eyes were searching the room as if he was looking for someone. "I'm not entirely sure, but one of my friends from basic training is a part of this unit, and I'm hoping he can explain."

Bellamy's eyes lit up in recognition, and I looked over to see a man with brown hair and a pinched nose walking towards us.

"Blake."

"Murphy."

"How the hell did you get stuck on this mission?" The man, Murphy, asked.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Just tell me what's up. What's the plan?"

Murphy frowned. "They won't tell me a fucking thing. Every time I ask, they just tell me to wait for the briefing."

Bellamy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck. That's not good."

I finally spoke up. "Why is that not good?"

Murphy looked at me. "Clarke Griffin?"

I nodded. "So? Why is it not good?"

Bellamy looked over at a group of men in dark grey suits, who I assumed were the heads of the mission. "It means they probably don't have a fucking clue what they're doing?"

I clenched my fist. "Well, they have to do something! They can't just leave him out there!"

My heart was starting to pump wildly and I wanted to scream. Why could no one just be fucking straight with me and tell me what was going on.

Bellamy's eyes met mine, one of his large hands splayed across my shoulder. "Clarke, I promised you I would do everything I can to help you, and I'm going to follow through. No matter what."

Grinding my teeth I nodded, but I didn't have a chance to respond as one of them finally announced that the briefing was about to take place.

However, before Bellamy or I could find a seat, a man with brown hair and a cut on his upper lip walked up to us.

Bellamy nodded. "Commander Cage."

Cage nodded back at him, but then turned his attention to me. "I'm sorry but Ms. Griffin cannot be here."

"What?! No." My eyes grew wide. "I can't leave! Please. He's my father."

"Commander Cage, surely you can make an exception?" If I didn't know Bellamy as well, I wouldn't have been able to hear the desperation that laced his voice, but as it was, I knew him very well.

"This is not a place for civilians and she can be of no use to us here."

"He's my father. Please. I promise I won't get in your way." I could feel the panic start to set in. I needed to be here. I could feel it.

Cage didn't respond, nodding his head at two men instead, and before I knew it they were dragging me from the room, dragging me away from Bellamy who was giving me a look that I translated into I'llfindyouandI'lltellyoueverythinglater.

I could feel hot tears at the back of my eyes, but I would be damned if I let them fall. They might think I was just some emotional teenage girl, but I didn't have to prove them right.

Instead, I followed them into the back of a huge black SUV. We only drove for a little while, though, before I started to think that something might not be entirely right.

The agents around me kept giving each other shifty looks, and checking their phones. I knew something was wrong. I could feel it.

A cold feeling started in my chest, and I put my hand on the door, preparing to jump out. However, I found that I couldn't move my fingers. Looking down, I saw one of the agents remove a needle from my arm.

After that, everything went black.

Bellamy

Being here without Clarke, when I'd promised I would help her, didn't feel right. But there was nothing I could do about it for now. I would just have to find her after the briefing.

Commander Cage was still talking about the abduction and the group that had taken Griffin. Apparently they were some kind of social science movement, trying to cure cancer. That didn't sound so bad by itself, but the group, The Mountaineers, were willing to do anything to achieve their goals. Human experimentation included.

They'd taken Griffin for his knowledge on cellular research. Kind of like in the first Iron Man movie, when Tony is forced to fix up some of his weapons for the terrorist group. Jesus christ, I was thinking about the Avengers when I needed to be focused on what Cage was saying. Maybe Clarke had rubbed off on me just a little.

The meeting ended abruptly when Cage got a call on his cell phone and I was left with no more knowledge than when I'd come in.

I watched Cage as he ended the call and began speaking to his second in command, a stern looking woman named Dr. Tsing.

Tsing nodded and left the room, and Cage pulled out his phone and made a second call.

Murphy's phone beeped, pulling my eyes away from Cage.

"Shit." Murphy looked up at me, his eyes wide.

I did not like that look. "Murphy. What?"

Murphy stood up. "Bellamy, don't panic but-"

I stood up too, my frame towering over Murphy's. "John, what is it? Tell me."

He swallowed. "It's Clarke. She's gone."

I couldn't have heard him correctly. Clarke was safe. Clarke. Was. Safe.

"What?" I forced the word out.

"She's gone, they've taken her."

Clarke

Waking up, my first thought was that I couldn't feel my wrists. I soon realized that was because they were tied securely behind me.

I was sitting upright on a chair, my wrists bound with rope and tied to the chair. I tried to move stand, but my feet were tied down, too.

I licked my lips, feeling as if I'd swallowed cotton. My eyes drooped, and I knew I was still feeling the effects of whatever drug they'd given me.

Slowly, I surveyed my surroundings. I was in a room with grey walls and a grey door, with a mirror facing me. I figured it had to be one of those one way mirrors, where they could see me but I couldn't see them.

The room was empty, nothing except for me and my chair. A panic started to build in my chest, and I felt entirely too confined. I wanted to fling my limbs, wanted to rip my arms from this chair. Wanted to move.

I gritted my teeth, trying to steady my heart rate. I couldn't afford to have a panic attack here. I needed to think. Needed to find a way out.

But before I could even begin to formulate a plan, the door opened with a boom. Two men dragged my dad in, and my heart stopped.

My dad was covered with bruises, and even dried blood in a few places. He was wearing a white doctors coat, but it was torn in a few places.

The men shoved my dad down in a chair of his own and preceded to strap him down to it.

I waited until the two men left, before I spoke. "Dad. Daddy, are you alright?" I could hear the relief in my voice.

I had thought I might never see my father again, but here he was sitting opposite of me.

My dad smiled, but it was watery. "Oh god, Clarke."

I felt tears slip silently from my eyes. "Dad. What's going on?"

"I can't believe you've gotten mixed up in this." His voice broke. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

My breathing was labored, and all I wanted was to break out of my bonds and run to my father. "It's okay, dad. We're gonna be okay."

He looked up at me, and all I could see was resignation and defeat, etched on to every part of his face. "I'm so sorry, Clarke."

The door opened again, and a man walked in. He had dark brown hair, and his coat read Lovejoy. How ironic, was the only though I had, and I giggled a little at it. My dad looked over at me, and he gave me a look that said he clearly believed I was breaking under the stress.

Who knows. Maybe I was.

Lovejoy opened his clipboard. "So, Dr. Griffin, are you ready to help us yet?"

My father didn't say anything, but I could see his eyes shift. "Dad." I started. "You can't help them. Whatever they want, don't give it to them."

I tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't look at me.

"Dr. Griffin, as you can see, you're in a quite precarious place. You can either help us, or we can torture her." Lovejoy said. "It's up to you."

And I finally understood why I'd been taken. I was the motivation. He was going to help them, because he couldn't let them hurt me. Because he was my father.

Because he loved me.

Bellamy

I loved her. She couldn't be gone, because I loved her. I realized that was an entirely irrational way of thinking but it was all I could manage at this point.

No one would tell me anything, and I was about to go out of my fucking mind.

I would take anything, even the barest clue as to where she was. I needed to find her, and I would do it with or without the FBI behind me.

Clarke Griffin had somehow become one of the most important things in my life, and I was prepared to fight for her.