It's been three months since the war against Mount Weather. Three months of peace and quiet for the first time since the 100 landed on this bloody planet five months ago. Not only has it been three months since the war, it's been three months since the 47, well, 34 now, escaped Mount Weather.

The war was sprung on the mountain as soon as the Grounders and the Arkers slipped inside, and the mountain was unprepared. Radiation seeped through the halls after Raven and Wick tore through the firewalls and destroyed all protection units with the press of a computer button.

Octavia was the one to find the 47. She screeched and she fumbled with the locks on their cells. Finally, one of the Ark guards found her and they located the keys to the locks and Octavia's friends spilled free of their cages. It took two trips to get them all to the convergence point where they would be transported from the mountain. Octavia tries not to think of the 13 souls that were lost in the fighting. She tries not to think of her friends being shot down like fighter jets.

The Grounders that were being harvested were found next. They, surprisingly, were in the rooms next to the 47, no, 34. The walls were thick and soundproof and no one could hear the groans and wails from the people inside. That is, until the door blew up.

Raven's explosives had done their job and Wick and Clarke and Murphy and several Grounders move through the room, unlocking the cages. The Grounders can carry several of their people to safety at once, as the ones in the cages are too weak to walk or fight.

It's Wick who finds him. "Murphy!" He called, glancing down the room to Clarke who was helping a small Grounder girl up. "I'm gonna need some help with this one!"

Murphy jogged down to where Wick was and nearly collapsed. Bellamy fucking Blake was sitting in the cell, white as ice and almost thin enough to fit through the bars. "Shit." Glancing back at Clarke, who was leading the Grounders out, he sighs. "Let's get him out before she sees."

Wick nods, and within seconds they were racing from the room and to the convergence point, carrying an unconscious Bellamy Blake.

Within minutes, Clarke had found the Reapers. Most were unconscious because they were withdrawn from the drugs that they had grown so accustomed too. Thankfully, Clarke and several of the Grounder Healers knew how to administer the healing process on these Reapers, and soon enough all of the ones that had lived are pushing through the outside defenses and crashing into the trees.

Clarke doesn't remember much after that, she was knocked unconscious during the run back to the camp by a tree limb she didn't see and had to be carried back.

However, she does remember waking up and seeing Bellamy on the hospital cot next to her, and she does remember the feeling of guilt and fear and pain that flooded her system.

Winter has arrived upon the Arkers and Grounders and this year, no one is prepared. Everyone's too overjoyed at the defeat of Mount Weather that they haven't prepared for the cold.

Bellamy's face is cold and chapped and his hands are drier than the Dead Zone. He grumbles when he gets put on the graveyard shift of the watch. That's the coldest time of the entire day, and now he can't even be in his warm bed.

He keeps drifting on and off into unconsciousness when he hears a noise from behind him.

Bellamy whips around and finds Octavia standing a couple feet behind him holding a mug. "Brought you some tea," she tells him, handing it to him gently, "thought you could use it."

He nods and lets out a breath of air. Ever since the mountain he doesn't like people sneaking up on him. He's jumpy towards everyone but Octavia and Clarke. Bellamy takes the mug and presses it to his frost bitten hands. "Thanks, O." He glances around at her and squints. "Why're you up?"

The younger Blake shrugs. "Couldn't sleep. Can I sit with you?"

Bellamy nods and pats the ground next to him. She leans on her brother's shoulder. Bellamy looks at his little sister. She's tired. "What's up, O?"

Octavia sighs. "I'm worried."

"About?"

"Clarke." Bellamy stiffens and shifts so he can look at her.

"What about her?"

Octavia shrugs and looks at the frost on the ground. "She hasn't been sleeping very well and she's not eating anything and I know she's going to get sick if she keeps going like this."

"Clarke seems fine around me."

Octavia sighs and looks up at her brother. It's a shame that he can't see what everyone else does; the two are completely and utterly in love with one another and it's a goddamn tragedy that everything that's happened has driven a wedge in between them.

"She doesn't want you to see, I'm guessing. Clarke doesn't want to have people taking care of her, because she'll feel like a burden. That's why whenever Murphy brought that virus back she refused to take a break, until she literally had to."

"Still don't like that scumbag," Bellamy muses and Octavia gives him a look. "Why're you telling me this anyways, O?"

The younger Blake gives the older one an exasperated look. "She listens to you, Bell. You're like the only one here that can get her to take care of herself for a change." When he's quiet, she sighs again, her breath coming out in little puffs. "I know how you feel about her. It's obvious."

"I don't feel anything for Clarke," Bellamy groans, trying to hide his shock. He thought he hid it well. "And besides even if I did feel that way, which I don't, she probably wouldn't feel the same way. Okay?"

Octavia rolls her eyes. "You're being ridiculous. Just talk to her, will you?"

He can't refuse his sister and he nods, dragging his hands over his face. "Fine. I'll talk to her." Octavia grins and gives her brother a hug.

"Thank you," she whispers, "I'm worried about her." Bellamy nods and turns around a bit to look at Clarke's tent. The candles are still lit, which means she's not sleeping. He'll admit, the revelation does worry him.

"I am too," he murmurs. Octavia sits with him for another hour, before she finally turns in.

The next day, he finds her in the med bay, walking around aimlessly. "Clarke," he says, and she turns and only now does he see the bags beneath her eyes. He's been too focused on the fact that they were both alive that he didn't seem to notice everything else. But, being Clarke, she forces a smile and pushes her hair behind her ear.

"What did you hurt now, Bellamy?" He snorts and sits on one of the medical cots.

"I didn't hurt anything, as a matter of fact." Clarke nods numbly and turns back to the medical instruments, cleaning them off. "Clarke, go to bed." He finally says, after watching her hands move over the surgical equipment.

"I'm fine," she replies dully, "honestly. There's a lot of work to do."

Bellamy looks around the med bay. "There's no one here, Clarke." She huffs and turns back to him, before coughing. He hands her a cup of water and she nods gratefully at him. "You feeling alright?"

Clarke nods. "Just fine."

He sighs again. "Clarke," he says gently, "it's nine o'clock at night. You've been up since four this morning, I know because I saw you get up because I had the graveyard shift. Please go to bed."

"I'm fine, Bellamy. Not tired." She yawns and he smirks.

"You're asleep on your feet. If you don't go to bed I'll drag you there, Clarke." She gives Bellamy a look and narrows her eyes.

"You wouldn't."

He chuckles and steps closer to her. "Wanna bet, Princess?" She swallows thickly and then sighs, holding her hands up in defeat.

"Okay, okay. I'll go to bed. But don't expect me to get much sleep." He grins proudly as Clarke turns off the lights and follows her as she stalks back to her tent through the cold.

It's a mess inside. Bellamy's surprised; Clarke's usually a very neat person. She huffs and runs her hand through her hair. Then, she whips around to him. "What, are you just gonna stay in here all night?"

Bellamy nods. "If it gets you to sleep."

Clarke lets out a breath of air again and shakes her head. "At least step outside so I can change into something more comfortable."

He does as she wishes and steps outside in the negative one billion degree weather. She's done within the minute and Bellamy steps back in gratefully to find her changed into a t shirt and a softer pair of jeans. "Alright," he tells her, "get in bed."

"Stop babying me," she grumbles, but does as he says. He grins when she looks up at him. "Happy?"

Bellamy nods. "Try and get some sleep, Clarke. I'll be in that chair trying to make sense of some of these Grounder history books."

Clarke snorts. "Nerd." She giggles when he narrows his eyes and he swears that the sound lifts his heart just a bit. "Fine, fine, I'm going to bed." She settles down and closes her eyes and for a moment Bellamy just watches her. "Stop looking at me and read your book, Bellamy."

Bellamy laughs and settles into the chair on the other side of the tent, leaving only one candle on so it won't keep her up. He can tell that by ten, she's asleep, and he feels a bit of the worry lift off of his chest while he watches her chest move up and down peacefully.

It's another hour later when she wakes. Bellamy's trying to rub his hands together to keep warm when Clarke shifts in her sleep. He glances at her, sees that she's alright, and then turns back to his book.

She shifts again, this time more forcefully. Bellamy looks up once more and studies her, and he's about to look back down when she starts thrashing.

"No, no, please!" Clarke is yelling. "Don't hurt him, please!"

Bellamy's across the tent in milliseconds, shushing her and shaking her awake. It kills him to see the tears streaming from her eyes. "Hey," he murmurs, shaking her again, "Clarke," she wakes with a gasp and sits up in her bed, looking around frantically. "You alright?"

Clarke lets out a sob and collapses into Bellamy's arms, wrapping hers around his neck. He tightens his around her back and holds her close as her body shakes with cries. "I'm sorry," she sputters, "I'm so sorry I'm so sorry." He doesn't know who she's talking to, but he holds her just the same. Tears streak down her face and stain his shirt but he doesn't care; he's physically pained when she's just had a nightmare. This is only the second time he's seen it happen, but it still terrifies him.

"You're okay," he whispers, stroking her hair with one hand and keeping his other arm wrapped around her waist, "you're okay, Clarke. You're okay."

She shakes in his grasp and eventually, he pulls her gently into his lap so he can hold her closer. Clarke has dropped her head to his shoulder and she sniffles. "I'm sorry," she whispers again, but Bellamy only tightens his grip on her. Her breath is shaky and shifts in Bellamy's grasp so her head is tucked under his chin. He sucks in a breath, but continues to stroke her hair.

"You're okay, Princess." Bellamy murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "You're gonna be just fine." She nods a little bit and he gently presses his lips to the top of her head. Clarke stays right where she is though.

After another minute of silence, Bellamy wipes the remaining tears from her face and wets a small cloth to wipe the dried tear tracks from her beautiful face. "You wanna lie back down?" He whispers and Clarke nods, allowing Bellamy to gently set her down and wrap the blankets around her. She squeezes her eyes shut and he pushes a chunk of hair from her face. "I'm gonna be right over there if you need anything." He tells Clarke, starting to move back to his seat.

He's just getting settled and finding his place in the book again when Clarke turns to face him. "Bellamy?" Her voice comes out as a whisper and it breaks his heart because she just fell to pieces.

"Yeah, Princess?"

"Can you lay with me?" He jerks up from the book and states at Clarke to make sure she's sincere. When her piercing blue eyes meet his dark ones, he doesn't have it within his power to resist and say no. So he nods, and kicks his boots off before crawling into the small bed with Clarke. Bellamy takes the side furthest from the tent flaps and Clarke closest.

Within seconds of him settling next to her, Clarke doesn't hesitate to curl into his side. Slowly, unsure if this is what she wants, he wraps his arms around her tiny frame and marvels at how well their bodies fit one another. Her head drops onto his shoulder and she lets out a sigh. Clarke's hands rest on Bellamy's chest and one of his slides down her back to her waist. He likes this feeling. Her in his arms, really. Makes him feel better. Her breath skirts across his skin and he sighs quietly.

She's quiet for a moment, getting comfortable in the bed with someone else. "It was about you."

"Hm?" He murmurs, absentmindedly running his fingers through her waves.

"My nightmare," she mutters, and he stops and looks at her. "It was about you."

Bellamy shifts a little and drops his arms from around her to prop himself up on his elbow. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Clarke flops onto her back and squeezes her eyes shut. "It was just Mount Weather again." She tells him softly, so it won't trigger an attack on his part. But right now, Bellamy's too concerned about Clarke to even think about his own demons. "Torturing you and then me and I just—" she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and sighs. "I can't lose you again."

Bellamy nods and scoops her back into his arms. "And you won't, okay? I'm not going anywhere, Princess." She smiles weakly and then buries her face back into his shoulder.

Clarke shifts again so that she's facing away from him, her back pressed against his chest, knees in front of knees. He tightens his grip on her waist and gently tugs her back, and is surprised when she relaxes in his grasp. "Bellamy?" She mumbles sleepily, and god that voice makes him feel some sort of way.

"Hm?" He murmurs, fingers lazily tracing on Clarke's hip under the warm covers.

"Thank you."

Bellamy smiles. "Anytime."

Bellamy wakes before she does the next morning. He hears the sleet falling in waves on the roof of the tent and only curls closer to the girl in the bed with him. It's going to be another long cold day.

Clarke mumbles in her sleep. "Morning."

"More like dawn," Bellamy replies, pulling her closer. "You are such a bed hog."

"I am not!" She protests drowsily, turning in his arms so she can face him. "You're a blanket hog."

Bellamy snorts. "Only cause you hog the bed."

She grumbles and starts to crawl out of bed. "And where do you think you're going?"

"There's stuff to be done," she replies, but before she can get very far, Bellamy's wrapped his entire arm around her body and has dragged her back into the warmth of the bed.

"Nope. Not today, Princess. It's sleeting outside. No one's gonna be doing many chores today." He murmurs, his breath hot in her ear. He grins wickedly when she shivers and goosebumps flesh on her skin. "Go back to bed, Clarke. That's what I'm doing."

Finally, she sighs and snuggles back into his side and warmth. "You're warm."

Bellamy grins drowsily. "Yeah? So are you." Clarke smiles and sets her head back down on his shoulder. Bellamy presses another feather-light kiss to the top of her head and if possible, she scoots even closer.

The final time they wake is around noon. They're still curled together; Bellamy's arm around her is loose but still present, and she's buried her cold nose in his chest. Their legs are twined together too.

"It's not sleeting anymore," he whispers into her hair.

Clarke nods. "I know." She murmurs, dropping her head back onto Bellamy's chest. "I don't wanna go out there, Bellamy."

"Me either," he admits, playing with the tips of her hair slowly. "Too cold."

Clarke snorts and heaves a sigh. "It is too cold."

"It has to be at least negative fifty." Bellamy murmurs, turning back on his side to pull Clarke closer. She relaxes in his grasp.

She laughs a little bit, and it about to say something when the tent is opened.

"Alright, Clarke time to get up—" Bellamy winces when he hears his sister's voice.

"Bellamy."

"Funny, O. We'll be out in a second." Octavia snorts and leaves the tent laughing. Bellamy groans. "She's insufferable."

This time, Clarke does laugh and wraps her arms around his chest. "Thank you," she tells him, "honestly. It did help."

The older man smiles and tugs on her hair again. "Don't worry about it. That's what we do—we help each other."

And that night, Bellamy's a little shocked when Clarke appears in his tent and crawls into bed with him. He chuckles but gently lifts his arms around her. "Something wrong?"

Clarke shakes her head and dips her head. "Nothing. I just... I didn't want to be alone. I need you."

And boy, Bellamy's glad that he had just blew out the candles because he turns red.