Bellamy's eyes opened wide, his breathing strained and laboured. His forehead was laced with sweat and he tried to wipe it away with shaking hands.
The sound of Clarke lightly snoring was the only thing that convinced him he wasn't still engulfed in his nightmares. She groaned softly and turned her back to him. All he could see from his place on the floor was her golden hair, splayed across her pillow.
Earlier that night, a tree had fallen on Clarke's tent and ripped huge holes in the parachute material. Luckily, she wasn't inside at the time, she was actually outside looking at the stars, enjoying the fact that no one else was around. She'd quickly decided that she'd stay in the drop ship until she could fix her tent. But when Bellamy found out he was adamant that she would share his tent, stating that the metal made the ship too cold for any one person by themselves.
A small, small smile played across his lips when he thought back to how much she hated the idea.
"I don't need you to watch out for me Bellamy. Besides, I never listened to you in the past, so why would I start now?"
"Stop being so stubborn, Princess. You can't argue with me on this one because you know I'm right."
"I'm not being stubborn. I understand that the ship isn't the best place to stay but I can just share someone else's tent." It was clear to Bellamy that she held back a certain thought. Why does it have to be you? And although he'd never admit it, the silent question hurt him more than it should have.
"The tents are already crowded enough as it is. We were the only people not sharing with anyone else. There's at least three to every tent so far. Jasper's complaining about how he has to share with five other guys. It's impractical to push you into a place that's so crowded. You need to be well rested. And we'll get more planning done this way."
She groaned, in a way that made him certain he'd proved his point and that she wasn't happy about it at all. "Fine. But I'm sleeping on the floor."
Bellamy had no time to argue. She stormed into his tent and threw a fur skin on the ground, curled up on top of it and minutes later, she had fallen asleep. Bellamy waited a few more moments, making sure she was in deep before he gently picked her up and placed her under the covers of his bed; scolding himself mentally for caring about her comfort.
His breathing had slowed and he started to drift off again, hoping that for once he'd sleep in bliss instead of fear. He was wrong. It was the same people every day; his sister, his victims, the whole of the hundred. The weight of every action he had ever made dawned on him while he slept. Horrible memories replayed over and over in his head. He saw himself place a knife in Charlotte's hand. He saw Octavia being ripped from his arms. He saw the sky display of dead bodies being sent into space; bodies that would still be alive if it weren't for him.
He begged for them to change, for the nightmares to fade away but instead they turned into something more horrifying. He was standing in front of one hundred graves. Grave stones made out of wood with names carved into them at the back of each.
He broke down. Tears streamed from his eyes as he fell to the ground, dirt covering his wet face, his knees, his hands. He clawed at the Earth and prayed this wasn't happening. His friends were buried below him and there was nothing he could do. The weight of their deaths fell heavy on him, constricting him past the point of suffocation. He couldn't die. He couldn't escape. He couldn't be free. And he knew he never would be.
Bellamy jolted forward with a gasp. He raked his neck and grabbed his chest, his heart pounding underneath.
Clarke had woke as soon as he had and he was glad she hadn't seen him before he had the chance to build up his walls again. "You okay?" She asked but then seemed to realize she was no longer asleep next to his bed, but in it. "What the hell. Bellamy?!"
"Keep it down, Clarke." His voice sounded like gravel and it sent a shiver down Clarke's spine.
"Why am I in your bed?" She sat up quickly.
"Relax, Princess. I just switched places with you last night. Nothing more. I'm gonna go get some breakfast. You want anything?"
"No." She paused for a minute and just as he left the tent he heard her whisper, "Thank you."
He was contemplating giving up on the idea of food and going back inside but decided against it when he realized he would probably just make things awkward because he didn't have anything to say to her. He found himself simply enjoying her company which is something he'd only recently come to terms with.
A little more than a few weeks ago they were at each other's throats every day. But after what had happened, when he thought she was close to death from that dumb disease Murphy brought in, they'd become closer. Not much closer, but closer none the less. There were moments when he still got frustrated with her though, and he knew he still annoyed her constantly.
When Bellamy came back into his tent, after eating a few nuts and berries, Clarke was gone. He didn't talk to her for the rest of the day, she was extremely busy checking up on everyone who had been effected by the illness. It was about a week later and some people still hadn't fully recovered.
He had stayed inside for most of the day. The pouring rain meant hunting would be almost impossible and with the cold wind that danced through the trees, staying warm was impossible. He was leaning over his desk sighing and rubbing his temple as he drew down plans on old bits of paper. He wished he had more light than a torch and a few candles, but until they could find lanterns that was as could as he was going to get it.
Clarke cleared her throat, surprising Bellamy a bit. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to help Monty with these green house plans. We need to make sure that sun can still get inside and rain as well if we can find a way."
She pulled her hair into a ponytail and bit her bottom lip. "But we need to have a roof on it so no animals can get in."
He looked up at her. "So you see my dilemma?"
"Yeah I see it. I don't know if I can help you with it though."
"Can you at least draw it for me? I'm rubbish." He asked, almost pleading with her.
Bellamy stood up and offered her the one chair inside his tent. She sat down and faced him as he sat on the bed. He noticed the shine in her eyes when she picked up the pencil. "Uh, you know what we could do for the roof?"
"Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows and sketched the side walls.
"We could use some parachute and cut smallish holes in it so the light still gets in but it'll still protect the plants."
Clarke stopped for a minute. "We don't have any spare material."
Bellamy layed down on his back and reached his hands behind his head. "Yeah we do. You can't possibly repair your tent and the tear is right in the middle so we could cut it in half and save one of the pieces."
She gave him a confused look for a short while and then demanded, "Where do I get a new tent from?"
"You don't. You stay in here."
Clarke shook her head. "And make you lie on the ground? That's not happening. You deserve to sleep in your own bed."
Bellamy was surprised that was her only reluctance. "We can share."
"You're not letting this go are you?" She glared at him and it was his turn to shake his head.
"Nope."
She did a quick drawing of how she imagined the roof looking, labelling everything she saw fit. "I guess we can start building the green house now then."
"Not right this minute. I need to sleep." He slid under the blankets and scooted over to make room for her. Clarke stood, blew out the candles and sprawled herself on top of the covers. Bellamy groaned and turned his back to her.
"Well, it's a start." He mumbled.
After what seemed like only seconds of silence Clarke muttered, "You never answered my question."
"And what question was that?"
"This morning you got up and looked like you'd seen a Grounder's ghost. And I asked you if you were okay."
Bellamy didn't want to relive it. Not with her, not with anyone. "And?" He snapped.
"And, are you?"
He let out a long, shaky breath. "No."
"Bellamy." Clarke said in a quiet voice. She got the feeling he wasn't happy about talking about it so she placed her hand on his bicep and squeezed gently. Her soft yet burning touch was enough to coax him into facing her. His eyes were closed but he listened to her half-heartedly. "I get them too."
Please let me know if you want me to continue this. It doesn't take long to review and it means the absolute world to me. Also, sorry if there's any spelling or grammar mistakes, I am honestly the world's worst proof reader.