disclaimed
...
It's been weeks since they broke away from the adults. Clarke doesn't think she's had a full night of sleep since—
well, as full as she'd been getting since they came to the ground. But she's—
goddamn, she's running on like two hours of sleep, from two days ago. Logically, she thinks that she should be dead. Bellamy keeps glaring at her and hissing, "Sleep, Clarke," whenever he passes her in camp, so she's taken to veering away whenever she sees him approaching. Sleep isn't—
it's not that simple. She keeps seeing burned bodies and the Ark crashing and all these other terrible things and it's almost like she wants to sleep forever but also like she doesn't want to be near a bed ever again. But she—physically, she needs sleep. She almost shoved some sand into a gash on Finn's leg, thinking it was seaweed and—
she's the medic. She can't be hazy. She'll sleep tonight.
Honest.
...
The theory is truthful as it—a theory.
She can't make it until tonight. She almost gave Monroe mushrooms that would definitely kill her to stop a headache and—
"I'm taking a nap here," she announces, ducking into Bellamy's tent, letting the flap fall closed behind her. Flopping onto the furs, she demands, "Keep people out." She drops her arm over her eyes, blocking out the light, but moves it slightly to peer at him when he doesn't say anything in response.
He drops his grin when he notices her gaze, softening to a smirk and promises, "I'll protect you, princess."
On a normal day, she would protest at his statement, but today she is tired and his voice is soothing, his tent warm, and his blankets smell like him—
which she isn't comforted by. At all.
She's just delirious.
...
Clarke's not quite asleep when she hears someone—Octavia, maybe—approaching the tent. She's never heard anyone aggressively hush someone, but there are firsts for everything.
Smiling, she rolls over as Bellamy creeps out of the tent to talk, leaving her in silence. He's halfway out, but she hears his footsteps still. Strong hands pull a blanket up around her shoulders, and he rumbles, "Sleep well, princess."
...
She thinks she dreams the part where he kisses her forehead.
...
It's the best she's slept since her father was alive.