The lamp flickered, threatening to blink out and plunge the room into deep darkness. Bellamy reached over and tapped on the outside, until the light glowed steady again, casting a wide circle of light over the empty shelves around him. The damn light better not go out, he'd had to trade one of the knives he'd made from the dropship for it.
The storage cupboard he'd found in this mostly-undamaged section of the downed ark had long been stripped, anything useful taken to set up Camp Jaha. Apparently, a lot of people wanted to sleep out in tents, away from the ship they'd called home all their lives. Personally, after spending weeks on end under tarps or sleeping with no shelter at all, the novelty of all that fresh air and wide open spaces had worn off. Inside the crashed ark was safer, warmer, and in this particular room, quieter — which was exactly what he needed right now.
Except if the footsteps right outside the door were any indication, he wasn't going to stay alone for very long. But it would only be Octavia, he hadn't told anyone else where he was going. He pushed to his feet and wearily walked over to pull the hatch open. Except it wasn't his sister standing on the other side of the door, gaze hollowed and looking slightly lost.
"Clarke, is everything okay?" Had the adults decided what to do with Finn already? After so recently being on the receiving end of the adult's harsh judgment, he hadn't wanted to hang around while they worked out what to do with Finn. Partly, he was worried they'd adhere to the old laws and execute the guy. But he was more worried they'd decide since Finn had killed a bunch of grounders, he wouldn't need to be punished at all.
Maybe if they'd been there to see the cracked gleam in Finn's eyes, they wouldn't be so quick forgive him. The way Finn had looked at Clarke—adoring on the verge of obsessive—it had given him chills. Clarke had been backing up, and Finn had started toward her. Before he'd even thought about it, he'd put himself in between them, blocking Finn's path to her. Clarke had grabbed on to the back of his jacket and hadn't let go until Octavia and Murphy had distracted Finn by taking his gun away.
"Sorry, I don't know why I came here." Clarke backed up a step, her gaze dropping away. "But Octavia mentioned where you were and I just—"
She took a sharp breath, eyes closing for a moment. He wanted to step out and offer her the comfort she so clearly needed, but Clarke had never looked to him for that—apart from that one hug they'd shared. Though that had been more about relief at finding each other alive.
She finally opened her eyes and caught him with an intent regard. "I just keep seeing all those grounders Finn shot. Unarmed women and children. I don't understand…"
She shook her head, lips pressing together.
"There is no understanding something like that, Clarke. We all have a point where we snap and do things we once would have thought impossible. Finn reached his, that's all there is to it."
She crossed her arms. "So it's that easy for you, just explain it away by reasoning that Finn finally snapped."
"No, it's not that simple." He stepped across the threshold of the hatchway, bring him that much closer to her. "Fact is, most days I feel like I'm one more dead body or sleepless night away from losing it myself."
Clarke's gaze searched his, her expression haunted as though she'd felt the same thing. "So how do you keep it together?"
He gave a short humorless laugh. "I have no idea. Having Octavia helps, gives me something to fight for."
"Fighting for someone else isn't the answer. Finn said he did it all for me, to find me." She dragged a hand over her tangled blond hair. "How am I supposed to live with that?"
He reached out and dropped a hand onto her shoulder. "You don't, because you weren't the one who pulled the trigger. Don't put this on yourself, Clarke, it's not your responsibility."
She sighed, and he got the feeling she wasn't listening to a word he said.
"I should go, let you get some sleep." The reluctance in her voice told him she didn't actually want to go anywhere.
He let his hand slip from her shoulder, and glanced back into the storage room he'd claimed for himself. "I wasn't doing much in the way of sleeping."
"I thought you said you'd sleep once we found Finn. Well, guess what? We found him." A touch of amusement crossed her features, chasing some of the shadows away.
He crossed his arms and sent her a droll look. "I don't see you getting any shut eye."
"I can't close my eyes without seeing—" She took a short breath. "It starts off as the grounders Finn shot, then it turns into the grounders hanging upside down in Mount Weather. And then when I get closer, its our people—Monty and Jasper, all upside down, still alive and begging for me to help them while their blood—"
"Stop, Clarke." He grabbed her shoulders again, because she'd started shaking as the words had spilled out of her. Instinctively, he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her. "We'll find them, okay? We'll find all of them, before any of that happens."
He shouldn't go making her promises he had no way of keeping, but right in that second, he would have told her anything to calm her down. The princess had been the steel backbone of the group since they'd crashed on this planet. He couldn't have her going apart on him, not now. Not when he was starting to get the feeling he needed her now more than ever.
"Come on." With an arm around her back, he led her into the storage room and swung the hatch over behind himself. He sat Clarke down on the pathetic pile of thin blankets he'd managed to scrounge up, and then pulled out the ration he'd been saving for breakfast. But when he held it out, Clarke shook her head.
"I'm okay; Mom hovered over me until I ate before."
He nodded and put the ration away again, before shifting to sit next to her, just off the blankets. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to still have a mom around, to have an adult still concerned about his welfare.
"At least its warmer in here." She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring at the lamp sitting in the middle of the space.
"Here." He reached past her and pulled up one of the blankets, arranging it over her shoulders. "You should really get some sleep. Can't storm Mount Weather unless you're up to full speed."
He glanced up at her as he finished tucking the blanket around her right arm, finding her face only a few inches away. In the dull lamplight, her eyes looked a darker, more dramatic blue. Damned if it wasn't the sissiest thing, but his heart skipped a beat as she stared at him.
"You don't mind if I sleep here?"
He swallowed, resisting the urge to lean in closer. "No, I don't mind."
"Okay." She released a long breath and then shifted, half turning to put herself into his arms, against his chest.
He hesitated for a moment, before lightly setting his hands on her. With a slow movement, he lowered back, until they were lying down, Clarke resting her head on his shoulder. Maybe it should have been weird or awkward, considering they'd pretty much loathed one another recently. But for a while now, his feelings for her had definitely been shifting, no matter how hard he'd tried to ignore it.
Clarke wasn't just some girl to sleep with. She was smart, fierce, determined and nearly fearless. He'd never met another girl like her, and half the time didn't know if she impressed him, or simply pissed him off. Whatever the case, she was complicated, and he didn't do complicated.