I stumble every now and then, catching myself on the rough bark of trees as I pass. My mind seems to be in a haze – I welcome it, try to use the numbness to block out the look on Bellamy's face when I left. I can't let myself think about how much it hurt to leave him – only about how much it would hurt him to stay. I'm toxic – everyone close to me dies.

I turn my mind to practical things – gathering food, finding water, finding a place to stay for the night. I imagine I can hear Bellamy's voice calling after me, but that's wishful thinking. Sure, it's easier for him with a co-leader around, but he'll manage fine without me. And so what if we've become sort of friends? All the more reason to stay away from him.

It starts to rain, and though I look for a cave, the best I can do is a small gully with a tree overhanging that will keep out at least some of the water. I settle down, not hungry, shivering as night sets in. I close my eyes and allow myself to pretend I can hear Bellamy's voice; the sound comforts me and I drift off to sleep.

I am vaguely aware of shivering my way through an uneasy sleep, jerking awake every now and then from nightmares, though at some point the cold seems to let up and I fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

I wake up warm. Too warm.

Before my eyes are fully open I am grabbing my knife and twisting around towards the heat at my back.

Bellamy yelps and jumps back. "Well, good morning to you too, Princess."

For a second I am too shocked to move, then I am scrambling backwards, as though mere proximity to me will bring death raining down on him. Maybe it will.

"What are you doing here?" I spit.

"You didn't think I'd let you go, did you?

"You did!"

"For about an hour or two, until I thought better of it."

"I'm not going back," I say, my voice quavering a little. "I can't."

"No, I didn't think you would," Bellamy says.

"Then what are you doing here if you're not trying to get me to come back?"

"I told you, Clarke, I'm not leaving you. If that means sleeping in the rain every night and chasing behind you every day, that's what I'll do."

I gape at him, bewildered. "But… but what about everyone else? You can't just leave them!"

"They'll be fine," Bellamy says. His eyes are lit with concern. "You, I'm not so sure about."

I take a deep breath and resolve to say the words that I know I must, even though they feel like bile in my throat. "I'm fine, Bellamy. You have to leave."

"I can't," he says.

"Yes you can!" I snap. "Just leave me alone, Bellamy. I don't want to here."

I see a flash of hurt cross his face, and turn away so that he won't see the lie on mine.

"I'm leaving," I say shortly.

"Then I'll follow you."

"Don't you dare," I snarl, giving him my best glare.

Bellamy doesn't say anything. I grab my pack and start walking resolutely east. For one heart-stopping second, I think Bellamy has listened to me – but then I hear his steady footsteps just behind me me, and the relief I feel is ridiculous.

I try to put the needs of everyone else ahead of mine, I really do, but I can't bring myself to force Bellamy away. The thought of walking this journey of grief and guilt alone is terrifying, and now that I may not have to do it alone, I can't stand the thought of going with my original plan.

Bellamy is silent for a while, but once it becomes apparent that I'm not going to throw any further fits at his presence, he ups his pace so that he is walking beside me. After a while, he opens his mouth to say something. I flinch, expecting him to try to persuade me to go back, but he surprises me.

"So how long are we going to be travelling for?" he asks.

This brings me up short. "I don't know."

"Well, we've got a few months until winter, but we'll need to build up supplies – unless you plan to team up with one of the Grounder tribes?"

I shake my head vigorously. I don't need more people to get killed for knowing me.

"Then we should find a good shelter – or make one – and start hunting meat, drying it, getting some good furs, I guess…"

He goes on in his practical, responsible tone, but his words blur out as my eyes blur with tears. He really does intend to stay with me.

I let myself get drawn into the conversation – really, I should have thought of things like that myself, I'm not usually so impractical.

When it's time to make camp for the night, Bellamy manages to spot a smallish cave. He hangs a big piece of hide over the opening, which makes for a snug shelter for the night.

Now that talk of plans has pretty much been exhausted, I don't really know what to say, but Bellamy surprises me again. We end up chatting for hours about our lives before we met, and some of our better experiences since we've been on the ground. It seems that when we're not fighting for our lives, we have a lot to talk about. He expertly dances around the things that I'm afraid to talk about, as though he can read my mind.

I find myself laughing for the first time in… well, I can't remember the last time I laughed.

I hadn't thought much about sleeping arrangements until Bellamy slides under the blankets with me. "What are you doing?"

"Are you kidding, Clarke? It's freezing! I don't know about you, but I'd quite like to have all my toes tomorrow."

I can't really argue with that – until I wake up the first time, and realise that I can't hide my nightmares from Bellamy with him so close.

"What is it?" his sleepy voice asks over my shoulder as I shudder violently awake.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"You know, I can always tell when you're lying."

"That explains a lot," I mutter.

I resolutely ignore him, but after I jerk awake for the second time, he becomes more insistent.

"Talk to me," he urges. "Please?" I can almost see his wide, sincere eyes, and even in the dark, I can't resist them.

"It's just a nightmare," I say, embarrassed.

"I have them too, you know. You're not the only one with regrets, Clarke."

Somehow, this makes me feel better. His hand finds mine under the blanket, and I grip it tightly. This way, we both fall asleep. The night is interrupted a few more times by my nightmares – and once by his – but in the morning, we are both relatively rested.

I wake up feeling better than I could have imagined a day ago. Suddenly my lonely trek seems more like an adventure than a penance. Though I have no right to feel happy after everything, I do. Despite myself, I smile.

To be continued