That finale destroyed me :( If you like to talk/flail about it, PM or message me! My tumblr is aurum-aura

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100

-1.

Bellamy unlocked the door to his apartment that he shared with Octavia, where he immediately walked into what looked like a murder scene.

The glass coffee table was on its side and broken. There were little drops of blood on it and the floor, leading into the bathroom.

Before he could process anymore, Clarke whooshed by like a storm, almost running into him. His sister was nowhere to be seen.

"What's wrong? Where's O? Why are you even here?"

She completely ignored his questions, "I need cloth!"

"Cloth?"

"Octavia gashed her leg on the glass coffee table, she's sitting in the tub now. I called the ambulance. It's a superficial cut, but there's a lot of blood. I have no bandages or medical cloth." She put a hand on his chest as he started towards the bathroom. "She's fine. I just need to get her stable enough for when the ambulance arrives. You know their arrival time sucks. O called me and 911 at the same time and guess who got here first?"

"Why not just tear some strips from your clothes for cloth?" He suggested. If Clarke said O was going to be fine, then she was, and he didn't need to fret. But a small part of him did worry, and always would when it came to his sister.

"Great, thanks," Clarke slapped her forehead, "wish I had thought of that before I ruined your pillows."

"My p-"

"I think I can get some strips from this shirt." she scrutinized the cotton t-shirt.

"Just don't rip it until you don't have a shirt," he smirked as she glared at him, then ran back to the washroom where he could hear cloth tearing.

"I don't have a shirt now."

Bellamy glanced up from his book to see Clarke standing in the doorway.

"She's fine, Lincoln's driving her to the ER. And Mom's picking me up soon." she had her arms crossed over her chest, at least her jacket was intact.

"You couldn't have gotten a towel to rip up for cloth?"

"Uh…"

"You didn't think of that, did you?" Clarke could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Shut up," she muttered, then started rifling through his belongings. "Perfect!"

"That's my shirt."

"Not anymore," she shrugged her jacket off, not really caring about privacy now, and pulled his shirt on.

"I might need that," Bellamy protested weakly. She ignored him.

"Gotta go, I think I hear Mom." Clarke ran out the room.

Immediately he heard Abby Griffin say, "that's not your shirt."

-2.

"Why does the outside have to be so frigid?" Octavia shivered. Despite them all being around the camp fire and huddled in blankets, they were all cold.

"Because Mother Nature is a bitch." Raven snapped. When Raven got cold, she got downright icy.

"Good thing I got…" Monty paused dramatically. "Moonshine!" cheers were heard from the freezing friends.

Bellamy looked over to Clarke, a stoic look on her face. She was huddled in a blanket like everyone else. "You okay, Princess?" he nudged her.

"I feel like my blood is ice." she pouted.

After a minute of deliberation, (half of that minute was looking at her bottom lip,) he shook off his blanket, (fuck it was cold,) shrugged his flannel off, (holy shit it was cold,) and handed it to her. "Here."

Clarke stared at it like it was the last cookie in the cookie jar. "Thank you," she smiled, the only warm thing in this godforsaken campsite.

-3.

"What's up?" Raven tapped her friend on the shoulder. "You've been staring off into space for a while."

"Oh," Clarke slid her gaze away Bellamy. His arms to be specific. To be even more specific, his sleeves that were rolled up to his elbow. Why was this hot? When did she find him hot? "Sorry, were you saying something?"

Raven narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"You're not even wearing it anymore." Clarke complained.

"Why do you want to?" Bellamy challenged. The rest of their friends were watching as if it was an interesting tennis match.

"It's cold." she countered, making a grab for the flannel that, five minutes ago, had been on him with its sleeves rolled up.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's the middle of August, it's hot. Which is why I'm taking it off."

"Please?" she fake shivered. "I'm freezing."

It was quite obvious she wasn'tfreezing, but she hoped her friends wouldn't see that she wanted it.

"Here, Clarke." Finn handed her his leather jacket, (why the hell did he have that in the middle of August?), "should warm you up."

Not having any choice she reluctantly reached for it, then Bellamy's flannel was thrust into her vision.

"Happy?" he look disgruntled, but hey, no one was making him give her his clothes.

"Thanks," Clarke shrugged at Finn, (you were too slow,) then took the offered shirt. She put it on and as an afterthought, rolled the sleeves up.

+1.

"Stop moving."

"It's already seven am."

"You mean it's only seven am. Now shush I'm trying to sleep."

"Maybe you should have slept last night then." Bellamy chuckled as Clarke slapped his bare chest.

"Don't make me regret this," she warned.

"Regret something that was probably bound to happen the minute we saw each other?" he teased.

She scoffed. "We hated each other the minute we meet."

"It wasn't hate in the air it was-"

"Don't you dare say sexual tension."

Bellamy just laughed. "I should go before your Mom comes home…in what? Two minutes?"

Clarke lazily dragged her fingers over his arm. She felt a small bit of satisfaction when he shivered. "She was working the late shift, she'll be too tired to even notice your shoes are still by the front door."

The two of them froze.

He spoke first, "my shoes are still by the front door?"

"I think…?" Clarke cringed as she remembered, yup, he had kicked them off before pushing her up against the wall.

"Shit." he jumped off her bed and almost ran out of the room before Clarke yelled about him maybe putting some pants on.

"Here," she tossed a pair of sweatpants to him which he hurriedly put on, not caring if they were on backwards.

Bellamy made a beeline towards the front door and snatched the shoes, (one was across the room on the couch,) and took three steps back to Clarke's room…

…when he met the eyes of Abby Griffin, sitting at the breakfast table with a pair of headphones and a piece of toast.

"Bellamy." she took a bite of toast.

"Mrs. Griffin."

She removed the headphones and jerked her head at him. "Nice pants."

"Wha-" Bellamy glanced down and yup. Those were Clarke's pants. She probably hadn't noticed she gave him these pants. Not knowing what else to say, he blurted "I thought you had the night shift."

"I came home early." Abby took another vicious bite of toast.

"Uh, when?"

"Two hours ago."

"Oh."

"Glad these were left out." she held up the headphones. "Can you return them to Clarke while you give her back her pants?"

"Sure." he grabbed them and after deciding she wasn't going to castrate him, said "and good morning Mrs. Griffin."

"Just go away, Bellamy. You look ridiculous."

"Going now."

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