She doesn't know what she's crying for. It's been a few days since the prisoners have landed on the ground and Clarke is already close to giving up. She's lost and confused and doesn't know what to do. Finn tries to comfort her, smoothes her hair down and wipes her next to silent tears. Maybe she's crying for their hopeless future. Their supplies are dwindling, their communications cut off, and they're being led by a man who would rather watch them all kill each other than god-forbid help the Ark he'd been living on for all of his life. Maybe she's crying because she misses her mother, or because she's seen at least three children who look only 12 years old. Clarke doesn't know why she's crying, but now she's started and she can't seem to stop.
She notices when Finn stiffens, his fussing hands still, and she looks up. Bellamy Blake is standing over them, a condescending smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. She searches his deep brown eyes for some sort of comfort or sympathy. They're hard. She's not sure why she's crying, but she's sure that she hates Bellamy Blake.
"What's wrong, princess?" He sneers as Murphy appears over his left shoulder, snorting at this. "Miss your throne back home?" He teases. Finn emits a low growl that only Clarke hears.
"Screw off, Bellamy." Finn snaps, shielding Clarke with his arms. "This has nothing to do with you." Bellamy glances over his shoulder at Murphy, letting out a snort.
"Whatever, spacewalker." He rolls his eyes, meets Clarke's red-rimmed blue orbs once more, and she thinks she sees a flash of something in his. Pity, or sympathy? Perhaps just a sprinkle of concern. No, she's probably making it up.
Finn has long since left the drop ship. She thinks it's probably in the very early hours of the morning by now, but she can't sleep and so she sits and stares into the pitch black drop ship. Her head pounds and she knows she's going to be beyond exhausted tomorrow, but someone was always getting themselves hurt and Clarke needs to make sure she's at full strength. She thinks a walk in the woods will help, so she leaves the camp almost silently, meandering through the woods and shivering in the flimsy jacket she had.
Bellamy hears her leave and slips out of his tent, being sure not to disturb the sleeping girl next to him. The air bites at him and he frowns. She shouldn't be out alone. He sneaks after her, keeps her shining blonde hair in his sight line, and narrows his eyes in confusion when she comes to a sudden halt. She stands still for several minutes before he makes a move towards her.
"Princess." She gasps and jumps, spinning around with wide blue eyes. The scathing nickname makes her wince internally. She hates the way he says it. "Why are you out here alone? You're our only medic and we need you to not get yourself killed. Seriously, how stupid are you?" He snaps, rolling his eye at her doe-like expression. "What's up with you anyway? Why the tears earlier today?" The question is serious.
"I don't know." Clarke replies honestly. Bellamy opens his mouth, ready to call her lie out when they lock eyes and he realizes with a jolt that she's not lying. She really doesn't know why she's upset.
"That's stupid. Figure it out. We don't have time to be crying over nothing. We have to survive down here and if our only medic's mind is off in la la land, we're all going to suffer because of it." Bellamy's tone is sharp and Clarke winces, but his eyes tell a different story. He's worried about her, in his own twisted way.
Clarke nods, gives him a shy smile, and allows him to lead her back to camp. As Clarke lies down in her bed, she bites her lip. She doesn't know why she was crying, but she does know that the 100 are going to survive under Bellamy Blake's leadership. There was no doubt in her mind.