Based on a prompt from tumblr...
Clarke planted her hands on her hips, surveying the camp. Everything was calm, for once. In the Eastern corner she could see Octavia and Jasper, heads bent together, discussing some weird thing or another. The Earth sun was filtering through the tree leaves, and Clarke titled her head up, enjoying the warmth the sun provided. That was probably her most favorite part of being on the ground, actually being able to feel the sun, the wind... it was incredible.
The least favorite part of being on Earth , however, was striding towards her, lips pursed. "Clarke! You're need in the ship," Bellamy stuttered, eyes dropping. "There was a hunting party, we were," his voice dropped, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet. "Attacked" he managed to gasp, clutching at his side.
"What do you mean a hunting party?" Clarke snapped, mentally trying to scan Bellamy, to see what was causing him so much difficulty.
"A couple of us decided to go out, get some fresh meat," Bellamy said, guiding Clarke towards the sick bay. "Grounders tried to shoot some arrows at us, most of us dodged them, but a few were hit, I need you to look at them, ok?" Bellamy's words were slurred, and he was stumbling as they walked, but he maintained a firm grip on Clarkes arm, practically dragging her towards the ship.
"It was extremely irresponsible of you to go out, I didn't even notice that you had left!" Clarke snapped, annoyed by his irresponsibility and general manner. "Who was hurt?" She asked, as the slipped into the ship. As soon as the curtain had closed behind them Bellamy collapsed to the floor, eyes rolling back into his head. "Bellamy!" Clarke called, dropping beside him and cradling his head. She glanced around the sick bay, seeing no other patients.
Bellamy groaned, his eyes opening. "Clarke," he whispered. "I was hit..." his eyes closed again, and Clarke frantically began to search his body, trying to find a wound. Her fingers met with a sickly wetness under his right arm. Blood. She tore his shirt off, barely glancing at this muscles, which shivered as his body attempted to fight off the impending infection.
"Shit Bellamy," Clarke groaned. There was no arrow, he must have pulled it out on his way back, and now the blood was flowing freely. His eyes were closed again, his breathing shallow. Clarke scrambled, grabbing her bandages and some herbs. She rolled Bellamy onto his side, hoping to stop the blood flow. god, he was heavy. Finally, she had his body arranged the way she need it to, and she got to work.
Half an hour later she sighed, sitting back on her heels. Bellamy had a bandage wrapped around his chest, with most of Clarke's herbal supply smeared underneath it. She probably shouldn't have used that much of her supplies on him, but god damn it, she needed Bellamy to live. Absentmindedly she began to run her fingers through his hair, really, for someone who had been living in the wilds with no soap his hair was far too soft and fine.
"Are you, are you coming to the tree.." Clarke hummed, the old Earth lullaby falling naturally off of her lips.
"I'll come to the tree if you're there, Princess," Bellamy croaked, licking his lips. Clarke startled, nearly upsetting the careful piles of herbs next to her.
"Bellamy! You're awake! Oh thank goodness, I wasn't sure how long the valerian would last," Clarke picked up a jug of water, holding the rim to bellamy's lips. He groaned, barely able to keep his head up. Clarke moved instinctively, cupping the back of his head. He gulped thuristly, the motion making his Adams apple move up and down.
Realizing that she was staring, Clarke hurriedly put the pitcher back down, blushing slightly. "Do you think you can stand? It would be better if we could get you onto one of the cots." Clarke said.
"Um yea, I think I can." Bellamy slowly rolled over, acutely aware of Clarke hovering over him, her small hands reaching, grasping his arm, aiding him to the bed, where he lay down with a grateful sigh.
"Now, are you going to tell me what happened?" Clarke demanded, arms crossed. bellamy sighed, he just wanted to go back to sleep.
"I told you Princess, I went hunting. Only there were no others, just me. A Grounder shot me from a tree, I escaped. Came to camp, got you, didn't want anyone to see me..." Here his voice trailed off, and he blushed, he had nearly admitted to not wanting to be seen as weak. Clarke's eyebrows rose, and rose... and rose some more. Really, Bellamy thought they would soon disappear.
"Blake. I can not believe you would do something so irresponsible, so STUPID!" Clarke snapped, anger causing her to twist her hands, over and over. Bellamy reached up, pain crossing his face when he pulled the hurt arm. His large hands engulfed her small, twitching ones.
"I needed to get out Clarke. Surely you can understand that?" he begged, begging her to understand, begging her to be here.
Clarke pinched the bridge between her nose, she did understand. She understood the pressure, the fear, the unknowingness, and the desperate, ever present need for relief. "Yea, I get it Bellamy. It can be too much. It IS too much. But we're all these kids have! We have to be strong, we have to be," her words were cut off by Bellamys lips. He had grasped her head with his good hand, and covered her lips with his own. Clarke didn't respond for a moment, but soon her lips were working too, pressing against his, trying to convey her pain, her utter fear, her desperation.
Bellamy broke away first, gasping slightly. "Exactly Clarke. We're all they have, but we're also all each other has. You need me, and I need you," he whispered, laying his head back on his pillow. Clarke was gasping, his words had stung her, stung her deep.
"Bellamy..." she began, but his eyes were already closed. Sighing, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I need you too," she finally whispered.