A/N: So I saw a fic prompt on underbellamy's tumblr and decided to write it. Sorry if it's not very good but I got inspired. I may write a second chapter as I kinda like this and it got away from me a bit.

The Scars We Keep

The people at Mt. Weather had been defeated nearly a month ago now. There was no one left. Between the Grounders and Raven's bombs they had managed to destroy the mountain and anyone else that might have wished them harm. Bellamy had slain his fair share of mountain men that night using his anger at what they'd done to his people as a fuel.

They'd returned to camp the victorious heroes but in reality that was far from the case. Many of the 100 weren't happy with their families, feeling that they'd been reduced to children again. Almost all had nightmares that woke them up and the scars from the blood filter's weren't fading. Monty and Jasper had found solace in their friendship and others had turned from their families' to their friends. They weren't the only ones Bellamy thought looking down at the girl in his arms.

On returning to camp Clarke had started appearing in Bellamy's tent in each night. The first time it was because she wanted to talk, then because she was avoiding Abby. Eventually she'd admitted that she felt safe here, with him. Safe from her mother's gaze, safe from Jaha's doubt and safe from Finn. Bellamy didn't really care what the excuse was as long as she was happy and it seemed that only happened when she was sleeping in his bed. The little smile that was etched onto her face was proof of that.

She was curled up against him, her head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist. Most nights started out with Clarke facing the tent door in case anyone needed her but they normally ended with them curled around each other. More often than not it was Clarke that curled around Bellamy, a leg thrown over his or a hand clutching at his shirt, when he wore one. Bellamy had no objections to this arrangement telling people that they provided each other with warmth but knowing in his head and heart that it was so much more than that.

Clarke shifted in her sleep and splayed a hand out across Bellamy's chest. His breath caught as she pressed herself up against him.

"Damn it Princess, you gotta stop doing that" Bellamy muttered against her hair which was now pressed up against his nose. Breathing in the comforting smell of Clarke he was able to forget about all the horrid stuff he'd been through. She was his home and his comfort. What? Where had that come from. His home? That wasn't what she was. So she was important but not that important. Come on, Blake. Stop lying to yourself. She was important, when she wasn't around Bellamy felt himself looking for her. It was hell while she'd been in Mt. Weather having to keep a calm attitude but wanting to burn the whole stupid forest down to find her.

She shifted her hands again this time moving them so that the palm was facing Bellamy. He quickly glanced down at her not wanting to stare but the red skin on her wrist caught his eye. He carefully moved his hands up to hers and rotated her wrist slowly so that he could see properly. The whole of her forearm was scarred. From her wrist nearly up to her elbow. The cut looked like it had been deep enough to warrant stitches but those had obviously been pulled out as the it was healing in a jagged manner. The skin around the scar was flaming red and the scar hadn't fully formed yet as there were still bits of scab attached to the skin.

It looked like it hurt a lot. Bellamy looked down at Clarke's sleeping form, with a softness in his eyes that he normally reserved for Octavia or one of the wounded kids. Clarke had told him that she'd got back into the med bay in Mt. Weather somehow but hadn't disclosed the details. This was obviously her form of entry. Why the hell hadn't she told someone, or at least asked Abby or one of the other's in med bay to clean it for her. It must have hurt like hell to pull the stitches out, especially when you hadn't had a proper diet for the past few weeks. He remembers having to have stitches taken out and that was painful enough, let alone pulling them out by what ever means she had used.

This course of action wasn't exactly surprising for Clarke though. She was a complete badass. After causing hundreds of fights with Bellamy she'd kept them alive. Not just with her medical skills but with her rational thinking, there were times when he would have gone head first into battle but she'd held him back and made a plan. Not that Clarke was one to hang back from a battle, she'd fought Anya and then Anya had become her prisoner and before that she'd managed to get them both out of Mt. Weather alive. No one messed with Clarke any more. The adults still saw them as children but the 100 knew better. They were the leaders, the ones that had survived by themselves.

Bellamy was dragged out of his musings by movement from outside his tent. It sounded like the rest of the camp was getting up and that meant them too. If they wanted to keep their positions then they need to be around so that they didn't miss out on any of the important decisions. Bellamy prodded Clarke in the side and she made a sound like a groan and an angry grunt. No matter what anyone else thought Princess wasn't a morning person. Trying again he got out of the bed and took the covers with him. He wasn't normally that cruel to her but they had to start planning their split from Camp Jaha today.

"Come on Princess, up and at em" Bellamy pulled a half asleep Clarke from the bed and dropped a quick kiss on her nose making her eyes widened in shock. He wasn't usually affectionate like that but this morning he felt extra appreciative of his princess. She threw on a top from the pile that had been slowly building up in his tent and he grab her hand to drag her outside. Clarke may be a medic but she wasn't always too great at looking after herself perhaps she just needed someone to remind her thought Bellamy as they walked towards the food tent.