I Threw Stones at the Stars (but the Whole Sky Fell)

by somethingofatrainwreck

Everything about them had a steady pace, a couple hundred tiny steps and then one big leap, like the way the wind would blow against a door that never closed all the way, little by little until eventually it flew open all at once. Or the story of how two walking disasters stumble into something beautiful.

AN: This monster is brought to you by the absolute super-storm of angst that is season 2. Enjoy!

Song title from The Stable Song by: Gregory Alan Isakov

---

Clarke walks into the room like she's ready to storm Mt Weather.

It's how she does everything now. Four years have passed. Most the scars have healed. She's the only one who still lives her life in a state of constant war.

"So," she says when she comes to a stop in front of him, "finally gotten yourself arrested? Welcome to the club."

"I was not arrested." He says through gritted teeth, "I was detained."

"For punching a kid in the face?"

He watches the blue of her eyes darken.

Lincoln has told him about the watchers in the colonies near the coast, men who perch on cliffs and wait for purple and black clouds to blot a clean sky. All these years he's spent watching storms come and go in Clarke's eyes, he's pretty sure he'd be a natural.

"He was nineteen, and I'd seriously reconsider calling him a kid if I were you."

He sees the firm set of her shoulders sink, the first flash of anger in her eyes. "You're a Captain Bellamy. You're not allowed to act like an ass. You're lucky you aren't being demoted."

"I have you to thank for that I guess?"

"Not exactly," she folds her arms in front of her and tries to look bored "Miller spoke on your behalf, says Gage deserved it."

"He did."

"He also told them you did it out of loyalty to me." She shoots him that special glare she has reserved just for moments like this, when she's trying to be frustrated with him but she's unable to completely mask her gratitude because she's not nearly as detached as she wants everyone to think she is.

It's been a long time, but Clarke still hasn't allowed herself to accept the fact that nothing has changed between them. Bellamy can still see straight through the rehearsed indifference. He notices when she sneaks extra rations into children's sticky hands when she thinks no one is looking, when she takes shifts in medical while her mother tries to catch up on sleep, when she makes comments about Monty's tattered shirt or Raven's old coat and magically new garments appear at their tents within a few days. She likes to think that people have stopped looking at her as a beacon of hope. She's still a leader, but she spends most of her time in the shadows now. It makes it all so much easier for her. He doesn't really give a shit about her obsession with isolation. Her love is weakness nonsense that she clings too even though it slips a little more through her fingers every day. Babies are being born. People are starting families. Their friends are home. The grounders are quiet. Mt Weather is dead. But, Clarke Griffin is still haunted, so those fancy new walls Lexa helped her build are proving to be incredibly hard to break down.

He is loyal to her though, and he can't imagine a day when he won't be. As much as Clarke has tried to change, she's still the same girl that climbed out of the dropship. She still gets that look in her eyes, that beautiful strong look that's so full of compassion that he was wonderstruck the first time he saw it (that day in the forest when Atom laid at his feet). He hates the Clarke she's tried to create, but he loves her soul so much that it's hard for him to look at her with anything less than desperation when she starts to crawl back into herself. He has his sister, his friends, his people, and he has her: his partner. She is his in a way that most people don't understand and whether she likes it or not, he is hers.

"As much as I'd love to have this conversation, and believe me you and I are having a conversation about this, I want these fucking ties off my wrists. Now."

Clarke's glare remains steady, but she gestures for the guard next to her to remove his restraints and allow him to stand. He walks towards her and she holds up her hands.

"I have a meeting…"

"It can wait ten minutes."

She knows what he's going to say to her. She knows that he's furious because otherwise she would have just demanded that he say whatever it is he needs to say and be done with it. The eyes and ears of the guards around them scare her and he's pretty sure it's because she knows she fucked up.

"Let's go." He says harshly. He places his hand on that familiar spot on the small of her back and she only tries to shake him off for a few steps before she sighs and concedes.

The door to her quarters has barely shut behind them when he starts screaming in the half-darkness.

"Really Clarke? A nineteen year old cadet? If you're gonna fuck around, pick someone with a little bit of discretion."

"It was a one-time thing. He understood that. I can "fuck around" with anyone that I want and I don't need you to defend my honor."

"Do you know what he was saying? Do you have any idea the things he was talking about on patrol?"

"I really don't care."

"You don't care that he was telling half the guard how he had you on your knees practically worshiping his…"

She makes a noise of disgust and holds her hands up "No one is going to believe that."

"You're on the council Clarke. You could be chancellor one day. Stop being so fucking reckless."

"It was just sex. Everyone in this camp does it. It's a part of being a human, a natural biological stress reliever, and I am not going to be ashamed of having a sex life just because my mother is the chancellor."

Bellamy tries not to groan in frustration. "That is so far from the fucking point…"

"Then what is your point? Because I have somewhere to be."

"I don't care if you want to have a sex life, but at least value yourself enough to have one with someone who respects you."

She's looking away from him, usually an indicator that she knows he's right. He's learned to take the sight of her staring off at a spot over his shoulder in silence as a type of apology or thank you…depending on the circumstances.

"Are you done?" she finally snaps once he's made it clear that he's not just going to cower away from her.

"For now."

"Good." She bumps his shoulder when she storms past, but stops and sighs before she opens the door "Octavia is doing well. She came in for her three month check-up this morning."

He smiles at the thought of his sister and the bump that was just barely visible under her shirt. He'd be an uncle in less than six months. Even though he and Lincoln had been through some serious shit with each other, he was happy for them, for his family. "Good to hear." He says "I'll see you at dinner."

"No, I have…"

"Clarke." He warns.

She doesn't turn around, but he can imagine her face scrunched up in frustration and then she's slamming the door behind her.

People think he's crazy. Sometimes even Octavia talks to him about it, about whether his thing with Clarke is really healthy. "She's made it clear that she isn't interested in a relationship Bell." He hopes one day she'll understand that it's not like that. He's not some poor downtrodden knight pining after a beautiful princess the earth has destroyed. It's not about romance or lust. It's devotion, it's always been devotion. Clarke is his friend. She's a partner, someone to talk him down and share the burden of bad decisions. There was something about her that made him feel safe, confident, hopeful even. She was good for these people and good for the earth. She may have made some tough decisions but it didn't make her any less of a hero. The truth is, Clarke had never given up on him, not when she knew the horrible things he'd done, not when he'd done horrible things right in front of her. No amount of blood on his hands ever made her turn her back on him. Bellamy Blake had spent every second of his life on earth fighting. Mt Weather had fallen, the Grounders were their allies, now he spent his days battling an earth-born plague of guilt and stoicism slowly draining the humanity from Clarke Griffin.

He's probably the only one that notices that he's winning.

...

They meet with the grounders at least once a month. Sometimes they travel beyond the forest clans. Sometimes it's just a matter of speaking to Lexa just outside of the gates. Regardless, Clarke doesn't go alone.

She usually rides ahead of them, next to Lexa, listening to stories of other clans or asking about plants and animals they still haven't come in contact with. Sometimes he just walks along in contented silence, other times (when he's lucky) he's got Miller or Murphy to talk too. This time there's just Lincoln, watching Bellamy's eyes glued to Clarke's back.

"Octavia worries about you." he says.

Bellamy barely hears him, "She doesn't need too."

"But she does. You are her family and so my family. You will be an uncle to my child. You and I are brothers."

"If you want to get technical about it."

Lincoln is smiling, he mumbles something in Trigedasleng. Bellamy is pretty sure it's an insult.

"What?" he snaps.

Lincoln continues to smile "When I was young and visited the clan on the coast, there was a storm. Their lands were flooded with seawater, destroyed by wind and trees. We arrived a few days after it had passed. It looked to us like the village was in ruins, but it's people didn't mourn. The storm had changed everything about their home, but it was still their home. They were thankful for survival, loyal to their land, no tragedy could change that. Baiu Catas , they said, beautiful disaster."

Bellamy continues to stare ahead. Lincoln is a man of very few words. He's not a poet. Somewhere in that fluffy little story about a storm on a beach there was a point, one that was probably put into his head by Octavia.

"Octavia may worry but," Lincoln nods to Clarke "I understand what you see when you look at her."

Bellamy takes a deep breath and counts his steps. He doesn't want to scream at Lincoln, not here. Clarke would be furious, O would never let him hear the end of it, and honestly he just isn't in the mood.

"No offense, but I really don't want to talk about this."

Lincoln nods again. They're silent for the rest of the trip. Bellamy is trapped in his head, thinking about beaches, and storms, and the way everything always seems to come back to the color of Clarke's eyes.

That night they stay with a small clan west of the river. Their leader is an older woman, who dotes on Clarke and Lexa, and shoots the men around them nothing but suspicious looks. They are provided with three small huts (made mostly of branches and hardened mud) to sleep in. Lexa and Clarke take their own, leaving the accompanying guard of 4 men (including Bellamy and Lincoln) to share the third.

When Lexa wishes Clarke a good night, she notices Bellamy sitting on the ground with his back against her hut.

"It's not safe to sleep in the open." Lexa cautions. "The panthers hunt in this forest, you won't see it coming."

Bellamy scoffs and clicks the safety off of his rifle.

"He'll be fine." Clarke says in a disinterested voice that sounds painfully familiar. It's worth the risk.

Lexa disappears into her own hut. Bellamy stares off at the shadows dancing around the tree line until he hears Clarke sigh. "I'm not leaving." He says "You can get as angry as you want. I don't trust them, not when there's only two of us."

"Three." She reminds him "Lincoln."

"Lincoln is a half at best. He's got a foot on both sides."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'll be fine." He mumbles the words in annoyance. It's enough to get her to close the rickety door and stop nagging him.

Two hours must pass, judging by the track of the moon in the sky. He's heard a few strange noises, rustling leaves, snapping twigs, but he hasn't been eaten alive yet. Sleep isn't going to come easy, if it comes at all. Earth has taught him to be a light sleeper, the movement of a shadow in the corner of his eye is enough to startle him awake. He's started looking for familiar constellations when he hears her calling his name.

"Bellamy," she hisses quietly.

"What?"

She hesitates for a second, long enough for him to turn his head and look at her. She's paler in this light, almost ethereal. Her eyes are clouded over, more silver than blue: worry, not anger.

"Get in here." she finally snaps.

"What?"

"Get in here. Now."

"I don't take orders from you." he reminds her with a scowl.

"Come in here or I'll come out there."

"Just go back to bed Clarke."

"God, Bellamy just," she takes a raspy breath "please."

When he storms into her hut, he attempts to slam the door behind him, but all it does is drag slowly across the ground and he's left looking like an idiot when he turns and see's Clarke shaking her head at him in the moon light. She's laying on what looks like a straw mattress, although it only raises her a few inches off of the ground. The hut is even less impressive on the inside. He's pretty sure he could extend his arms and touch either side at the same time.

"Here," she finally says, tossing a black and white pelt in his face "So you don't have to sleep in the dirt."

The urge to make a smart ass comment is almost irresistible but she looks so fucking tired, she always looks so fucking tired, so he doesn't say anything. He props his rifle against the wall and lays the pelt down a few inches from her spot. The moon is shining in his eyes when he lays back, its unbearable so he lays his arm across his face and tries to focus on the sounds of the wind outside.

"Sometimes I think you forget that you aren't fucking invincible." Clarke mumbles.

There's a moment when he's sure she has to be talking to herself (because he has that exact thought about her nearly every day) but when he pulls his arm back from his eyes he meets her glare, shining in his face almost as bright as the moonlight.

"Excuse me?" he says.

"You act like you and your rifle can take on the world. You're just a man Bellamy, and you know what happens to men down here."

"If you've got a point make it, because all the hypocrisy is giving me a goddamn headache."

"Don't you ever worry that eventually your luck is going to run out?"

"My luck?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't actually. After everything I've been through, you want to boil it down to luck?"

"You're missing the point."

"I don't give a fuck about your point right now Clarke."

She sighs and turns away from him, throwing herself on her back and staring up at the ceiling. He fumes in the silence for a few minutes, glaring at her until it's clear that she has no intentions of looking back at him.

"Just… don't die."

It's so quiet he almost mistakes her whisper for the wind, but her face is determinately turned away from him now and her hand is clenched in a fist where it lays next to him. He reaches out in the darkness until he can pry her fingers apart and then he stills, leaving his hand tangled in her smaller one. It's cold, callused, and he can smell the cinnamon as he inhales (she dusts her hands with ground cinnamon. If she doesn't, she swears they smell like blood.) He knows Clarke is a little bit crazy, they all are. She fights the same nightmares he does. She leads the way on the line they're always walking, between being a hero and being a monster. She's lost somewhere in her own mind. The Princess that stood beside him all those many years ago is buried under blood and stone and guilt, but when she squeezes his hand and lets her fingers relax into his, he knows she's still alive in there.

...

They still celebrate Unity Day.

Chancellor Griffin makes a speech, Monty makes a batch of unsanctioned moonshine, Clarke insists that they invite the grounders (to celebrate unity between the sky people and the people of earth) so they have a feast and a fire twice the size of a normal day. People cling to their traditions, but it's not the same. It can never be the same.

It's about remembering now, remembering everyone they've lost.

Every year they build a memorial, a flat wooden platform where people can place a flower in memory of a loved one. The gates are opened; people wander to the meadow south of camp and return with armfuls of milkweed, daisies, creek plum, and bluebells. They knot the stems together, some kneel and pray, others just cry.

May we meet again.

When the sun starts to set, and the memorial is a patchwork of wildflowers and weeds they carry it to the river. The entire camp lines the bank in silence and watches as it floats along the rapids. Slowly the water pulls the flowers free. By the time the memorial is out of eyesight, the surface of the river is stained with color.

Clarke is the only one that sits and waits for every last flower to drift away.

Bellamy only knows because he has that nasty habit of keeping one eye on her at all times. That first year, she stood next to Lexa on the ridge and watched with pointed indifference. It was only after everyone had trickled back to camp that she climbed down and sat cross legged in the mud. He had gotten comfortable against a boulder a few dozen feet away, his gun slung across his shoulder. They didn't say a word. It's their own little tradition now. She sits next to the river in silence until it gets dark and then they both walk side by side back to camp. He's gotten really good at resisting the urge to tell her that he meant it every time he said that she'd done the right thing.

He spends the rest of the night with O, with his people. There's always an attempt to keep things light, to tell stories about Monty's mishap with the still or the time Miller got stuck in those thorn bushes , but eventually everyone says what's really on their mind. Jasper usually goes quiet around the time Mt. Weather is brought up. Raven goes to bed when someone finally mentions Finn. Clarke stays far away from it all, sitting by Lexa's side until they leave for the night.

By early morning the camp is quiet. Clarke is the only one that sits and waits for the fire to burn down.

Just like every year, Bellamy sits as close to her as he can without having her look up and glare at him. Her jar is half empty where it sits between her feet. The night air is unusually cold.

"They'll tell ghost stories about me one day." She says through frosted lips and a breeze that carries the smoke into her eyes.

That's when Bellamy knows it's time to cut her off, when she starts talking about ghosts, or stars, or shadows. "You should get some sleep Clarke."

She turns and looks at him like she's surprised. There's a part of him that wonders if she's even talking to him when she says things like that, she always looks startled when he responds.

"What are you still doing here?" she asks weakly. It's a question that's much more profound than it seems, she's not talking about his seat around the campfire.

"I'm the voice of reason." He responds "It's time you call it a night."

"One day we'll be at war again," She mumbles as she stares back into the fire "and you're going to regret being like this."

"Being like what?"

"Being here Bellamy, always being here."

Something is different about her tonight. She's actually looking him in the eyes, like she used too. Her sorrow is showing, dark blue and intense.

"Someone has to be."

"No they don't. They really, really don't."

"Clarke," he lets the liquid courage spark an argument they haven't had in years "did you even say a word to your mother today?"

She doesn't respond, but she does kick her jar over so the remaining alcohol seeps into the ground. He knows it's because she wants to answer him, she wants to talk to him and she's trying to convince herself that it's only because of her buzz. She's wrong. Loneliness always catches up with you, just like guilt and love.

"This has got to stop. You keep driving this wedge between you and your family and it's…"

"My family?"

"Our people, Clarke, your family. The ones we both bled for."

"They're alive." She says "isn't that all that matters?"

"What about you?"

"I'm going to make sure they stay that way."

"By yourself?"

She looks up at him and holds his gaze for what feels like hours. "Things are finally going well, why do you have to question…"

"Because like it or not I give a fuck what happens to you, even if you don't extend me the same courtesy."

There it is: the bitterness, the anger that's laid dormant since she handed him that map of Mt Weather, the frustration of being a man who would take a bullet for someone who spends her days actively trying not to care about him.

"You're the only person in this camp that I trust." She says defensively "I care about what you think Bellamy."

"Yeah," he scoffs "that's not the same thing."

Her legs shake as she shoots to her feet and the moonshine isn't strong enough to mask the smell of guilt when she storms past him. But he doesn't care. He sits, pissed off and drunk on his log until something howls in the distance. The sky is at its darkest, but that just means it'll be dawn soon. He'll have to be up and on duty. He makes a point to stomp on the jar Clarke left laying by the fire before he goes. It's childish, but seeing it break makes the walk back to his shack a little easier.

The problem is that Clarke, inebriated or pin straight sober, has never been known to back down, so when he stumbles through the door expecting the darkness of his quarters he finds a lantern lit and the princess sitting cross legged on his bed.

"I need you to understand." She says in the most diplomatic voice she can muster with breathe that is probably flammable.

"You're drunk Clarke." And when he says it, he feels like he's saying it to himself too. It takes him three tries to pry his boot from his foot and all the while she stares at him.

"Bellamy," she pleads.

"You don't owe me an explanation. I really don't care." He shucks his pants next and then his shirt. Clarke is staring down at her hands.

"Don't you think this whole thing would be easier if that were true?"

"Yeah, you know what I do," he's trying to keep himself from yelling, but his head is spinning and everything she's saying is only making it worse. "but that's not how these things work. That's not the way life works." He blows out the lantern and walks past her to the other side of his half-assed mattress. She's quiet when he settles into bed, turning his back to her and pulling viciously at the blankets she's sitting on top of until they wrap around him.

When she finally sighs, he remembers that she likes to speak in the darkness. She likes to tell him things and expects him to pretend like he never heard them. She's honest in the dark. He'd love moments like this if they didn't make her seem so uncharacteristically vulnerable. "People that I love die." She says bluntly "At an unnatural rate, in horrible ways."

"So the ones that survive don't matter?"

"I'm trying to do the right thing. I'm trying to be a leader. I'm trying to be stronger than I was when we got down here."

"Yeah, well you're not."

"So I ask again, why are you still here?"

He turns to face her, shifting the blankets with so much force that she slams both of her hands down to keep her balance. She's looking at him over her shoulder. He's not sure how much she can actually see in the darkness, and that makes it easier. The blue of her eyes are dulled. Her form just a shadow. He's really starting to understand why it's so easy for her to be herself in the dead of night. "Because the person you were when we got down here ended up being pretty important to me."

She makes this horrible defeated sound, the way a soldier sighs when he returned to a battlefield he almost died on. Then she's pushing her legs out in front of her and leaning with her back against his chest. He feels that brotherly instinct to comfort shooting through his arms, but he waits in the silence and listens to her breathe.

"You don't owe me anything."

But he does. He owes her for so much and the fact that she's forgotten that is so frustrating that it almost makes him angrier. But she starts to scoot forward, like she's about to wander back to her own bed, and he doesn't want it to be like this anymore. He doesn't want her to be so goddamn far away from him all of the time. So he allows his arm to break free of the blanket and wrap itself around her waist, drawing her back until she's lying on her side, pressed up against him. His hand lays heavy against her hip, keeping her in place. He's waiting for her to fight him on this, the way she fights him on everything, but she only sinks into him further, so much that he has to move her hair out of his face to speak.

"Just go to sleep."

He breaths her in as she presses herself back against him (for warmth she'd probably say if you asked). He can feel the tensing of her muscles, the headache throbbing beneath her brow (the hangover she'll surely have in the morning).

Wanting to fix things for her is always a big part of the impulsive decisions he makes; but this particular impulsive decision has a lot to do with the way her body fits against his (and the moonshine), the way her hair always smells at least a little bit like fire (and the moonshine), the way she trusts him enough to give him her back when she was in her most vulnerable state (and definitely the moonshine).Without a second thought he drops his head forward and lets his lips ghost across the exposed skin on her shoulder and then he waits for a furious slap doesn't come. Instead she leans further against him, breathing a little deeper. He does it again at the base of her neck, again a few times on her throat, and finally (and definitely, definitely because of the moonshine) he parts his lips just a bit and lets his tongue trace a spot just below her ear. The breathiest little moan escapes her lips, one that makes every muscle in his body twitch.

He realizes then that he's leaping over too many carefully drawn lines in their relationship and forces himself to pull back. Part of him knows that he's fucked up, that he'll never get her warmth or that noise out of his head, but maybe this is just a part of being loyal to someone as beautiful and screwed up as Clarke is.

He remembers a story about a beach after a hurricane and closes his eyes. In a matter of minutes he can hear her soft snores. He falls asleep just about the time she pulls away from him, his hand laying in the empty space between them. When he wakes up she's gone.

They'll never speak of that night and he knows it.

...

He dreams of Mt Weather sometimes. Of the darkness, the cage, the pain, the cold, that horrible vacancy in Lincoln's eyes that lit hopelessness like a fire inside of him, most of the time he just remembers the cold.

The day he becomes an uncle begins with one of those nightmares.

It's Miller that shakes him awake, dodging Bellamy's fists. He gets it, so he doesn't say a word about it. He waits for Bellamy to sit up and get his bearings and then he's taking a deep breath and launching into a story about Octavia, and water breaking, and screaming.

For a few seconds he panics, thinking that Miller is telling him his sister had drowned.

"Dude, she's having the kid." He says "She's in medical right now, she said she wants you to…"

Bellamy has his pants pulled on and his boots laced up before Miller even really notices that he's out of bed. He's trying not to smile, because he's terrified and there's so much that can go wrong, but he's so fucking proud of his sister that he practically beams all the way to medical, and then he hears the screaming.

Octavia's voice echoes through the camp. It comes in short bursts, sometimes ten or so minutes in between but when she gets going it feels like a knife twisting in Bellamy's chest. They won't let him into the room when he tries to power through the doorway. Abby is standing over the shoulder of another Dr., Lincoln is at Octavia's side with wide panicked eyes, and Clarke is kneeling on her other side, turning her to face Lincoln and rubbing her back.

"Captain Blake," Abby says "it's too crowded in here…."

"I just need…."

"Wait outside."

"No."

"Bellamy," Octavia turns her head and gives him a watery smile "I'm okay. Everything is okay. Just wait outside and we'll….Ow, shit, we'll come get you when it's over, as soon as it's over…I promise."

Bellamy has an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Octavia is a warrior. She is stronger than he ever gave her credit for and this…..this is just one more thing he can't save her from.

"O are you sure?"

"I'm sure…" she pants "I'm sure. You don't want to see this."

"Okay." He says "I'll be right out here. Let me know if you need any…"

He's cut off when her contractions start again. The Dr. must see the look in his eyes because he shakes his head and smiles "Everything looks fine so far. Your sister is doing great."

So he stands out in the corridor with a smile on his face, only breaking to wince when he hears his sister scream. He never thought she'd have the chance to experience this, to be a mother, a wife, someone who the community values and respects. He couldn't have imagined a better life for her, even if she had gone to hell and back to get here. It's stupid, but he almost wants to cry. He stands there and thinks of names to suggest to quell his nervousness and everything is fine.

And then it isn't.

Her screaming is much worse and he can hear chaos in the room around her. Her doctors are practically yelling (at her or at each other he doesn't know). His knees are shaking and his entire body feels cold. Octavia is wailing and he's pretty sure Lincoln is cursing. When he surges towards the doorway to rip aside the plastic and demand to know what the hell is happening to his sister, he finally hears the powerful cries of a baby.

He feels a weight lift from his chest. She did it! She did it and she's a mother now! He's an uncle! He steps forward again, expecting to hear the room laugh and coo over the child. Instead, he hears more panic. The baby is still crying, Lincoln is shouting Octavia's name, Abby is saying a bunch of terrifying things about bleeding out and infections. When he finally does see his sister, everything in the world goes silent. She's pale, horrifically pale. Her eyes are closed. Her hair is matted to her forehead. There is blood everywhere.
He tries to get to her. Tries to push everyone out of his way because being by her side is an instinct he'll never be able to shake. He can't let this happen to her. He can't lose her on the best day of her life. She can't leave a child behind the way they were left behind. She can't leave him behind…..

"What is going on?" he demands of the room.

They ignore him until he starts pushing doctors out of the way, and then Clarke's hand is wrapped around his arm and Abby is pointing to the door and guards are there pulling him away from his sister. He fights them until his arms feel weak, vows to hate the Griffins forever for making him leave. He curses and cries and screams until the guards deposit him on the ground just outside the ship.

For the first time in months he left his fucking rifle in his tent, and goddamn it he's about to go get it because he'll kill everyone that steps in his way if it means…..

"Captain Blake!" it's the Dr. that smiled at him and fucking told him everything was alright. He's rushing towards him with blood on his scrubs. Bellamy feels like he's going to be sick, like he's seriously going to puke panic and fury all over the fucking ground.

"Captain Blake, I'm very sorry but you can't be in the room right now."

"What is going on?"

"There were complications with the child, your sister started to hemorrhage."

"What does that mean!"

"It means that if we aren't very careful she could bleed out."

He fists his hair and tries not to scream. He doesn't want to cry in front of these people, he's never cried in front of anyone other than Octavia and Clarke, but he can't even fucking breath his chest is so tight and his eyes are burning.

"We've got the best we have working on her." The Dr. tries to reassure him "Your sister is strong. She's a fighter. I can tell she's a fighter. We're doing everything we can for her, but we need you to stay out here. If that room gets anymore chaotic her life could be at risk."

He doesn't nod, but he does stop pacing. The man must take that as a good sign because he starts to retreat back into the ship.

"The baby…" Bellamy manages to choke out "The baby is it…"

"A boy, a beautiful healthy boy."

He feels a small prick of relief as the Dr. rushes away, but his body is still shaking and his sister is still bleeding and suddenly that nightmare from this morning doesn't seem so scary.

People have noticed the commotion, but no one has approached him. He can see Raven and Jasper at a distance, whispering to each other with worry on their faces. They keep their distance, because they understand him. He doesn't want pats on the back or words of encouragement. He wants to hit something, to blame something or someone for this. He wants to save her. He wants…he just needs her to be okay.

45 minutes pass. 45 minutes that feel like six years to Bellamy, who is pacing so frantically that even the armed guards take a step back from him. The first thing he sees is Clarke. She walks out through the terminal and stops dead when she sees him. She's covered in blood and she's crying.

He feels his whole world end when he looks at her. He's half way to his knees when Lincoln comes rushing out behind her.

"Bellamy," he says through deep breaths and tears "She's okay. She's alive. She…"

He's hugging the man more fiercely than he's ever hugged anyone, and the crazy part is that Lincoln is hugging him back. They feel like brothers in that moment, the only two people who would really feel the earth shatter if Octavia had left. Lincoln keeps saying that she's okay. Bellamy needs to see her to really believe it, and their son….they have a son now.

"They're cleaning him up." Lincoln says before Bellamy can ask "So she can hold him when she wakes."

"Can I see her?...Them?"

She still looks pale as she sleeps, but Bellamy watches the steady rise and fall of her chest and he swears he can see the color come back into her cheeks with every breath. Lincoln insists that he hold his nephew, even if Bellamy felt that it was only right that Octavia get to hold her son first. He's small, much smaller than Bellamy expected given that Lincoln is like a damn mountain. He looks so much like Octavia did that his breath catches and suddenly he's five years old again, making a promise that this fucking planet has tried so many times to force him to break.

"Did you decide on a name?"

Lincoln shakes his head. "She said she had to see him first."

She finally gets to see him when she wakes up hours later just before the sun sets. She cries when Lincoln places the baby in her arms, and when he presses a kiss to her forehead, and when Bellamy grabs her hand and squeezes it until she looks into his eyes and he can finally see, for real, that she is alive.

When she decides on a name, she whispers it into Lincoln's ear and they refuse to tell Bellamy. Apparently there's some grounder tradition with a naming ceremony and a bunch of other archaic things that seem ridiculous to him, but Octavia is beaming. She looks so alive that he almost can't believe that just hours ago she'd been on the brink of death.
Her doctors come in and out, and she thanks each one of them (even Abby who she's never really been a fan of). They agree that it's best to hold other visitors until the morning so Octavia and the baby can get some rest. Bellamy plants himself in a chair next to her, because he has no intentions of going anywhere, until Octavia cocks her head to the side and asks him where Clarke is.

He had been so wrapped up in everything that he'd forgotten what she'd looked like that afternoon. She had been crying, seriously crying in a way he hadn't seen her cry in years.

"She left," he says lamely "right before they said you were okay. She left."

Octavia looks confused. "She left?"

"What's wrong?"

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"Can you find her?"

"What?"

"Can you please go find her?"

"Why?"

His sister is looking at him with such intensity that it makes him sit back in his chair. Her face is set in hard lines but her eyes are tearing up. Whatever it is, Lincoln seems to understand. He takes their child from Octavia's arms and steps back, as if the siblings needed a moment of privacy.

"Bell," Octavia says "when everything was going black, I could hear him crying and I could hear people saying my name and then it just…..stopped. I was panicking. They kept telling me to stay awake but everything was so…heavy. But Clarke was there, she was right there in my ear. I remember her voice. She kept asking me to fight, she said I was the strongest person she knew, that this was the bravest thing she'd ever seen….she kept talking to me and I remember struggling to listen, I hung onto every word." She sniffled a bit and laughed "It's sounds crazy, but I just….. I want to thank her Bellamy. She was right next to me the whole time and I….didn't expect that of her."

Things had been….tense between Clarke and Octavia for a long time. The warrior side of his sister understood that Clarke had always done what was best for their people, but the idealist, the little girl that listened to the bedtime stories Bellamy told her, the young woman who chased butterflies, that part of Octavia that was innately good all the way to her core would never really forgive Clarke. Bellamy understood that, he understood that that was how a lot of people felt about Clarke. They gave her weary smiles and nodded in respect when she walked through camp, but it was different than the way they looked at him or Abby or Kane. He knew deep down that Clarke never expected anyone to forgive her for everything that happened during the war, especially Bellamy. It was probably half of the reason she was still walking around like a ghost. For Octavia to talk about Clarke with respect in awe in her eyes….well it was nice. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one who couldn't shake those feelings. It was nice to believe that other people still saw their brave princess when they looked at the stony-faced leader she had become.

"Bell?" Octavia asks, pulling him from his thoughts "Can you please go find her?"

He nods, squeezes her hand, and stands up, his resolution to stay by her bedside unless they removed him by force quickly forgotten (understandable…his sister's sad eyes were more powerful than the threat of a gun pointed at his back). People congratulate him when he walks by. He smiles and shakes some hands, but those that really know him can see the determined look in his eye. His feet carry him through camp and his eyes scan the faces of everyone around him. It was unlikely that Clarke would be out eating dinner or celebrating with the masses. He just hopes to God she didn't find another weak spot in the fence around camp. If he has to stumble through those woods in the dark, he's gonna end up getting pissed off and that's really not how he wants this night to end. Not when all he can think about is the possibility of looking into Clarke's eyes and seeing that finally finally some of those icy walls had started to melt.

The first Griffin he finds is Abby. She's walking across camp, wiping at her eyes. She nearly collides with him. With a start, she looks up and realizes who he is. He tries not to notice how teary she looks.

"Have you see Clarke?" he asks simply "Octavia wants to see her and I…"

He takes a step back when Abby makes a sudden sobbing noise. "I'm sorry," she says through a smile "I'm sorry, yes. Yes I just left her actually. I think she was heading back to her quarters."

He's not sure how to handle this situation. Usually he's quite good with crying people, it's like a brotherly instinct, but he and Abby don't exactly get along. She tends to glare at him like he's some bomb she can't diffuse, but here she is sobbing and smiling in front of him and he's honestly never been more uncomfortable in her gaze.

"Is everything okay?" he asks cautiously.

"Yes," she says "everything is fine. She…I think she could use a friend right now but she…she's better."

"She's better?"

"We talked and she's just…" she stops (remembering who she was talking to he assumes) and shakes her head "it doesn't matter."

"So she's in her quarters?"

"Yes." He starts to walk away but she calls him back "Bellamy, I know what Octavia must have told you. As much as Clarke helped save Octavia's life today, I….. I think it went both ways and I am so thankful for that, that she knows you….both of you."

She doesn't wait for him to say anything (and thank God because what the hell is he supposed to say to that?) and turns away to walk back towards medical. Things had been so tense between Abby and Clarke that simply hearing that they'd talked actually took a little bit of weight off of his own shoulders. He'd been pretty much the only person constantly nagging her to bury the hatchet with the chancellor, but Clarke had always adamantly refused (whether that was out of actual anger or guilt Bellamy never really knew).

When he finally reaches the door to her quarters, the sun has completely set. He takes a minute to look up and appreciate the stars, which is strange because they've always served as a reminder of the life he'd lead when they were stuck on the Ark, but now….they're beautiful really. Suddenly he has the urge to drag Clarke out and force her to look up. Every falling star was actually a star now. No more burning ships or unnecessary sacrifices. The stars weren't mistakes anymore….they were just stars.

"Clarke," he finally calls out as he raps his knuckles on the metal.

He's not surprised when she doesn't answer and he pushes the door open anyway, she would have told him to stay out if she'd been naked or something…..ignoring him…that meant that she was hiding.

"Hey," he says when he sees her. She's sitting at the end of her bed, her legs crossed and folded. She doesn't seem to be crying anymore, but he can see the red in her face, the wispy purple bruises under her eyes.

"Is something wrong?" she asks.

"You tell me." He approaches her slowly. Sometimes being around an upset Clarke is like cornering a wounded animal.

"Octavia?" her back stiffens and he holds up a hand to keep her from jumping up and running to medical.

"She's fine. They're both fine."

"Good."

"She wants to see you, to thank you."

Clarke scoffs in that self-deprecating way he can't stand, "For what?"

"For what you did today."

She finally looks up and meets his eyes and he can see it, tears shimmering over a frigid blue…like ice melting. "I didn't do anything," she sounds choked up. He can see her hands clenching in frustration. "She did it all on her own…she…"

She shakes her head and throws herself back onto her bed. He watches her try to discreetly wipe the corner of her eyes, but he decides not to say anything. He's pretty sure he'd screw it up if he did. Instead, he wanders over to her table and puts the light out (because he knows it's the only way they can actually have this conversation) and then he settles on the bed next to her, their arms pressed together.

"I was ruthless during the war." She finally says "There were things…..I know I was ruthless. I had to be, but…I've never seen anyone fight like Octavia did today." She says O's name with the same amount of respect and awe he had heard Octavia use when she'd told him that Clarke had stood by her side. "She was gone. I could feel her pulse fading, but she came back. I don't know how she…."

It made sense now, the crying….the talk with Abby. The fight Octavia put up today goes against everything Clarke has been trying to convince herself of for years. Love is weakness.

"Yes you do." He says "You know exactly how she did it."

"I'm not trying to start an argument."

"Neither am I."

"Then stop smirking." He does, because he knows pissing her off is only going to end this conversation before it really begins. "You were crying," he says.

"I was in shock."

"Clarke," she tries to turn away from him, so he flips onto his side and flops an arm around her waist "Clarke, come on. Talk to me."

"I don't want to…"

"But you need to."

He hears her breathe in and out a few times "I'm never going to have that."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm…after everything that's happened, I'm not ever going to be able to do that."

"To do what? Be an actual human being?"

She turns her head and glares at him "Bellamy,"

"No, I'm serious Clarke. You can't just pretend to be a sociopath because you're afraid that you're going to lose someone else you care about…."

"Just forget it,"

He grabs her hand and traps it between his. "Everything I ever did was for Octavia, because I love her. Did it fucking kill me every time I thought I had lost her? Yeah, it did. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone, but it's worth it Clarke. As terrified as I was today when I thought she was gone, it was all worth it. Seeing my sister with her son…..I'm an uncle, I have a family. That doesn't make me any weaker."

"You and I are different…"

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it."

She's quiet for a minute, but she doesn't rip her hand away. "You don't understand. I know you want too….and I know that if anyone could, it would probably be you but you don't."

"It's been almost five years,"

"You've been saying the same thing for five years, like time passing is going to change anything."

"It changes you."

She glances over at him and shakes her head "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Looking at me like I'm about to break into a million pieces. I'm okay. I'm not that upset I just….Octavia has grown so much and I'm happy for her."

"You can have that if you want it Clarke. You know that right?"

She shakes her head. "I don't want it."

He's not sure if she sees him roll his eyes.

"So, I saw your mom." He says hesitantly. His thumb is tracing patterns on the underside of her wrist. He doubts she's even noticed. "She seemed…overwhelmed."

"We talked."

"A good talk?"

"One that was probably overdue. I just…apologized and thanked her. I never really thought about how much she went through, watching me …become who I am down here."

"She's proud of you."

She scoffs "She's proud of part of me, there's another part she tries really hard to ignore."

"She's your mother. She loves you, every part of you even the ones that scare her a little bit."

Clarke nods, but it's in that dismissive way she nods at people in council meetings, like she's not really listening but she just wants to make you happy so you'll leave her alone.

"You really don't want to be a mother one day?"

It's hard to tell where exactly the line is with her in situations like this, when it's dark and she clearly needs someone to try to understand her. It's a horribly personal question, he probably wouldn't even be upset if she shoved him away from her and onto the floor….but she doesn't (at least not this time).

"I don't think it's about what I want any more Bellamy." She whispers sadly.

He can tell that she's done with the conversation. She's slowly starting to inch away from him, pulling her fingers from where they had interwoven with his. Every time he feels himself getting a step closer to her, she shoves him back and honestly… he's had it.

"Clarke," he says as he grabs her elbow and pulls her towards him "Come here."

"What?"

"Come. Here."

She makes one of those huffy annoyed princess sounds, but she doesn't fight him when he guides her to his side, or when he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Bellamy, you should…"

"Just stop thinking Clarke,"

"What does that…"

"Just stop….for one minute just stop."

Her head rests on his chest. He breathes in and out and listens to the sound of her getting impatient, it's almost funny really or maybe that's just because he's in such a good mood.

"Thank you." he turns his head and whispers "I know you don't want to hear it, but thank you for being there for her today…..when I couldn't."

She closes her eyes like his words are physically painful and when she looks back at him, he knows something has changed.

"Thank you," she says "for being here right now."

It's not exactly an invitation to do what he does next, but it's the first time she's ever acknowledged his loyalty without an eye roll or that disbelieving look on her face. It's the first time that she's actually admitted to him that she appreciates his relentless friendship. It's the first time in a long time that he feels like the real Clarke isn't completely lost to the world. So what does he do? He ruins it (almost).

Initially he only intended to brush his lips against her forehead, or maybe even her cheek, just a friendly reminder that he cared about her, that he'd always be there, but she moves her head just as he ducks down and even though he knows his lips are miscalculating he doesn't stop them. He's curious. He's truly curious because he knows she's had her little dalliances with some no names around camp just to distract herself, he's had a few of his own, but there's so much between them that….it could never be so simple. He knows that kissing her would mean something, and that if it means something it'll probably scare the shit out of her, but…he does it anyway.

She inhales sharply when their lips first touch. He gives her a few seconds to pull away before he actually starts to move. His head tilts further down, his hands pull her closer. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to deter himself from turning this kiss into the one he's let pass occasionally through his fantasies. This can't be like that (at least not this time). Fire starts to spread through him, his mind fights with every muscle in his body to keep him in place. He counts to eight and starts to pull away, but as soon as their lips detach Clarke surges forward, her head tilts to the side, her mouth starts to move and Bellamy Blake has officially lost whatever battle he's been fighting against this thing that has laid dormant between them for so long. He pulls her further onto his chest and lays back, kissing her almost lazily, smiling like a goddamn idiot because his sister is alive, and he's an Uncle, and the stars are actually beautiful again. It's probably the smile that ends it. Clarke pulls away from him and raises her eye brows at his giant grin. He's so happy that she isn't punching him or running away that he only smiles brighter (which is not your everyday Bellamy Blake smile).

"I'm really happy for you Bellamy." She rolls off of him and lays back in her spot to his side. "Does he have a name?" she asks timidly (part of her probably expects him to either demand that they finish what they started…or at least have a conversation about it).

"They won't tell me," he says with a good natured groan "some stupid grounder tradition."

"You expected them to ask you didn't you?"

He looks over at her and she's actually laughing, "I don't think it would have killed them to run it by me first."

She snorts. "Crazy uncle Bellamy." She mumbles "the other kids will be so jealous."

They bicker back and forth for a few minutes. She sounds almost as happy as he feels, but slowly…like she's coming down from a high, her voice becomes clipped, her shoulders square, and he knows that he's just about worn out his welcome.

"Okay," he says "I should probably go check on O one more time before I go to bed. She really does want to see you, you know."

Clarke looks up at him through her lashes as he sits up, "I can…I mean maybe tomorrow morning I'll go see her."

He smiles "She'd like that."

He doesn't make a big production of leaving, simply offers her a wave and waits for the inevitable,

"Bellamy!"

He turns around and she's sitting up, "What just…we're okay right?"

"Yeah Clarke, we're okay."

Because one day what just happened was going to matter, knowing that was enough for now.

...

Earth had always been the dream.

They did what they did to survive on the Ark so that one day human beings could return to their homes. Bellamy remembers gazing at the planet through the impenetrable glass he was assigned to clean every other day. He was born surrounded by white walls and the deep darkness of space, he remembers dreaming about how incredible it would be to die amongst the green of trees and the blue of oceans. The freedom. Earth was a promise, a utopian goal that almost made life in that shrinking metal box worth it. He wishes he could look at the earth that way again, just so he could recognize her for the scorned bloodthirsty bitch she truly is.

In the last few days of the summer months, when they've just started to prepare for the oncoming winter, purple and grey clouds spread out across the sky like a big looming shadow. They prepare for a few days of rain, what they get is a week of wind knocking limbs from trees, downpours that leave the ground a giant puddle, and lightening that very nearly strikes the radio tower. When they're finally able to emerge from their shelters Camp Jaha looks about as pathetic as it did the day the ship landed.

They realize pretty quickly that they're going to need a lot of help. Clarke insists that going to the grounders is the best course of action. She and two members of the guard set off that very afternoon (Bellamy staring after her, extremely annoyed that Kane issued him specific orders to stay in camp) and return with a convoy. Lexa and her perpetually pissed off warrior entourage arrive just hours after Lincoln and Octavia. They offer their assistance, some supplies, men to help rebuild the wall. It's clear that many people in Camp Jaha are still weary of the grounders, but winter is coming and they can't afford to live in wreckage.

They come in groups, a few men every day. They set up camp just outside of the wall. Bellamy and a few other guards coordinate with both groups, assigning them to work alongside each other on specific parts of the wall. Many volunteer to hunt and gather, since their food stocks were running alarmingly low. Eventually the tension starts to dwindle. It's not just grounders sitting around the campfires outside the gates. On any given night, after the echoes of axes have faded, there is laughter, stories, a horrible drum that always gives Bellamy a fucking headache without fail.

It's going well. They're making progress. They meet a few visiting grounders from other clans. Most are friendlier than Bellamy expected.

One in particular.

His name is Elias. He's built like Lincoln: broad, tall, with a beardless face, and hair much shorter than most other grounder men. Most people are amazed by his eyes, one is a blue almost as cold and piercing as Clarke's, the other is a murky green (Bellamy gets sick and tired of hearing the "oh my god how hot is that grounder guy?" whispers pretty quickly). Elias is a good worker. He's polite, quiet usually. He comes from a clan that lives along the Shenandoah river. He and his two companions had traveled to Ton DC to deliver a message from their leader to Lexa, they had decided to stay and help with camp Jaha. Why? Bellamy has no idea. Octavia says that they're just curious about the sky people. Lincoln believes that their leader instructed them to assess whether they would be a beneficial trade partner. Either way Bellamy doesn't really give a shit, as long as they're strong and willing to listen. The problem arises when he starts to catch Elias hanging around Medical.

"His mother was a healer," Lincoln explains one afternoon when Bellamy begrudgingly brings it up to him "He's interested in your technology, probably another assignment from his heda."

Bellamy starts to nod, until the man himself comes walking out of Medical with Clarke at his heels. He's telling some story, using mostly his hands it seems (the language barrier is something they're still struggling with especially with clans who have different dialects) and Clarke is smiling.

"You sure that's what it is?" Bellamy asks as he follows them with narrowed eyes. Lincoln doesn't answer.

Nothing changes between he and Clarke (despite all that has actually changed). They meet every morning and walk the perimeter of the wall. They sit in his tent and stress about the oncoming winter every night. She still spaces out and he still gets frustrated with her, but she finds his side whenever they stand in a crowd and he lets his hand hover over that spot on her back when they walk through camp. The difference is those few hours a day when Clarke would detach herself from everyone and insist on being alone. Usually she would lock herself away to take inventory of medical supplies or wander to the meadow just outside of the wall to look for herbs, sometimes she even comes back with her hands covered in dirt (he doesn't ask questions). About a week after Elias and his men show up, Bellamy starts to notice Clarke wandering to the wall instead of hiding away. She brings him bandages for a wrist that Bellamy assumes is either sprained or blistered. She walks with him to his fire, where sometimes they sit and talk until the sun hits high noon and it's time for Elias to get back to work. He's even seen him give her a flower once. She handled it just like he thought she would (awkwardly put it in her back pocket and looked around for an escape route) but the grounder still smiled at her, like it was endearing. Needless to say….Bellamy was noticing a lot of things.

He tries to ignore the nagging feeling in his gut. Clarke is a diplomat, they don't know much about the people of the Shenandoah Valley, so she's probably just trying to form a relationship with them, build up some trust. He tells himself that he's just being overprotective, that he doesn't trust the man because he looks like he could break her neck with a single twist of his wrist if he wanted too. It's hard though, once other people get involved. Octavia makes little comments about how Clarke seems to bring out the talkative side of the usually stoic warrior. Abby looks at him in the suspicious way she used to look at Bellamy. Monty and Jasper chatter on about all the stories they'd heard around the grounder's campfires. How Elias is the youngest militia commander in their clan's history, how he singlehandedly took out a scouting party from Mount Weather a few months before the drop ship had even landed. Bellamy even watches Elias teach Miller and Monroe a few basic moves of hand to hand combat without saying a word. It's Raven and Wick, who eventually make him break.

He's sitting in their work room, listening to them argue over some issue with the radio tower (an issue that he was supposed to report back to Clarke an hour ago) when his patience finally snaps.

"Can you two keep it in your pants and just tell me what the goddamn problem is? I told Clarke I'd meet her an hour ago."

Raven has never been the type to blush, so she just glares at him and slams the wrench she's been waving in Wick's face onto the table. "You know what Bellamy? I'll talk to Clarke as soon as we figure it out. You can just leave."

He groans "We've got a meeting with the council tonight and she doesn't want to go in there…."

"She'll get over it!" Raven snaps.

Wick just takes a deep breath and smirks (probably thankful that Bellamy has distracted Raven from screaming at him) "And anyway," he says "I'm sure she's plenty distracted right now. It's about that time of day when she goes out and flirts with the grounder isn't it?"

"Shut up Wick." Raven mumbles chancing a nervous glance at Bellamy.

"Why? You just said that she was…"

"Wick. Leave it."

Bellamy narrows his eyes and steps closer to the mechanic "Oh no Reyes, don't change the subject on my account."

"He was just joking Bellamy," Raven smirks "keep the ugly green monster on its leash."

"There is no ugly green monster." Bellamy snarls through gritted teeth.

Raven rolls her eyes "Sure there isn't."

"I'm sure Clarke would be really pleased to hear that you two are in here starting rumors…."

"Rumors?" Raven snaps "You're not the only person in this room Clarke talks to Blake, I'm not starting any rumors. She likes the grounder. I think it's good for her."

He knows his eyes must be ridiculously wide (he can tell because Wick is openly laughing at him) but he can't make himself walk away now….not when all those little thoughts that had been taking root in the back of his head where shooting up to the surface.

"How the hell would that be good for her? We don't know anything about this guy…"

"Apparently he's their most trusted warrior and…"

"Yeah, yeah I know he's fucking Spartacus, why don't we just erect a statue in his honor so everyone can stop fucking talking about it."

"Oh yeah Captain Blake," Wick says "you don't sound jealous at all."

"I. am. Not. Jealous. I don't trust him, I will never trust them and Clark is…"

"Plenty strong enough to take care of herself. He makes her smile Bellamy, it's been so long since she…"

"Do you think I don't know that?"

He hears it in his voice. The ugly green monster…. That's fucking embarrassing

He knows that he can be a bit of a loose cannon when it comes to his emotions. He can be dramatic. He uses way too many curse words. He's selfish and impulsive. And honestly, he can be more spiteful than even Octavia when he's pissed. He knows he's not exactly an immaculate role model as a man but….being jealous of the grounder is definitely the most childish thing he's done in a long time.

"Look," Raven says "I'm not saying that she's in love with him or….I mean, I don't know what exactly is going on between you two…"

"Reyes, don't."

"I'm just saying, it's….I get it. I don't think you need to worry, he's leaving soon anyway."

"I didn't come in here for your pity. I need something to tell Clarke."

Wick almost looks sympathetic, it makes it worse. "Tell her, if anything, it's a routine fix and we'll let her know the details as soon as we know more." He says. Bellamy storms from the room without sparing either of them another glance.

Raven's right. He knows Raven is right. Elias is leaving soon, so why should he be worrying? He's a grown man, he and Clarke have years of history and for him to think that the grounder could ever replace him or…God what was he even worried about? It's ridiculous . Clarke doesn't belong to him…at least not like that. It's never been like that….well, there were a few moments (very very brief moments) that were like that. She's not interested in that with anyone. In fact, it's a very real possibility that she never will be. Clarke is a goddamn enigma. The way he sees it, he's one of the only ones that really gets her. Who cares if she likes the grounder, if he makes her smile? He'll leave and everything will go back to the way it was before….except not really, because it's pretty clear now that Bellamy has some personal issues to work through, and all that will definitely come to a head eventually (especially with Wick and Reyes in the know).

When the day finally does come, almost a week and a half later, Bellamy watches a caravan of grounders prepare to voyage back to Ton DC with the Shenandoah visitors. Octavia and Lincoln are acting as their guides (they both still take on pseudo- ambassador roles even as new parents). They stand anxiously at the gates, this having been the first time they've both been away from their son for more than an hour. Bellamy lets his sister distract him with tales of his nephew as the grounders break down camp. He can feel himself counting down the minutes until they disappear into the tree line. Goddamn he's really not good at this jealousy thing.

"So," Octavia says with a smirk "you don't seem very sorry to see them go."

He shrugs "They've been a lot of help. I'll just sleep better when there isn't an army surrounding our gates."

"They're not an army. You should be thankful. They didn't have to help, especially not Elias and his men. They were here on a diplomatic mission, they didn't have to volunteer their time…"

"I'm sure Elias had reasons."

Octavia raises her eyebrows "You continue to amaze me big brother."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're jealous."

He only opens his mouth to deny it because she's laughing at him, and he doesn't need his little sister to make him feel like any more of an idiot. "I am not…."

"Oh, you're not?" she nods her head to the back of the line forming in front of the gates. Elias has dismounted to speak to Clarke. She has a piece of paper in her hand. She hands it to him and he beams, before folding it over and tucking it into a saddle bag on his horse.

"It doesn't look good on you Bell." She says "Neither does all the pining."

He rolls his eyes "You know I don't pine."

"I've made my peace with Clarke, you know that. But God Bellamy, I wish it was someone else…anyone else. She's… you know what, forget it. You're an adult and a stubborn one at that. It's not going to do me any good to argue with you if you aren't even willing to admit to it."

He narrows his eyes and prepares to launch into the standard "you don't understand what goes on between us so don't talk about it like it's so simple" speech, but Clarke calls his name and he whips around, thanking God that she was far enough away that she hadn't overheard anything.

"So listen," she says "I'm going to go with them to Ton DC. Elias wants to show me a type of weed that he swears grows along the river and I have a few things I wanted to discuss with Lexa anyway. Can you just let Kane know? Oh and My mom is going to be short staffed in medical, could you ask Harper to lend a hand if she's feeling up to it?"

He's staring at her. Just openly staring, and he knows that his mouth is already open so he should just say something but he doesn't have anything to say. He's somewhere between confused, pissed off, and disappointed….with the standard underlying feeling of not being surprised because this is Clarke and Clarke does whatever Clarke wants.

"Bellamy?" she questions "is that okay? I mean you don't need me here or…"

Suddenly the five year old child that's had a steady grip on his mind lets go and he realizes that he has no reason to fault a grown woman for wanting to take a trip outside of the wall…even if it is with the grounder. She actually looks excited, and as much as he sort of hates that that excitement doesn't include him…he wants her to feel like that. He wants her to live her life instead of sitting around blueprints preparing camp for its next war.

"No," he says "no, go. I'm sure we'll survive a day without you."

She smiles "Great. I'll ride back tomorrow morning…"

"With an escort?"

"Bellamy…"

"Clarke."

"There's not a lot of time to argue. Can you just trust me please?"

It's funny, but now that he thinks about it…he trusts Clarke with everything but her own life. He won't tell her that though. He has no desire to be the one that wipes that smile off of her face. She'll be back in the morning and it'll probably take a few days for the bitterness to seep back into her personality. This is probably a good thing, but there's still a nagging feeling in his stomach (and this time it's not the jealousy).

"Are you sure you don't want me to..."

"No." she says "You hate riding, and as far as I know you have a lot of work to get done today. I'll be fine. I have my own gun and everything."

He smiles and it's only a little bit insincere. "I'll send Harper to medical, check in later to see if she needs anymore help. I think there's a flu going around."

"Thank you." she reaches her hand out and squeezes his wrist "any special requests?"

"You mean from the foliage on the side of the river? No, nothing comes to mind." She smiles one more time and lets go of his hand. He watches her walk away, waiting for that feeling in his stomach to fade. It doesn't.

"I should go." He mumbles to himself as he turns back around. Octavia hears him, and scoffs so loud he's surprised she doesn't scare the horses.

"She'll be fine. She's practically a fucking warlord stop treating her like a damaged little flower."

Bellamy shakes his head "You be careful too."

"I'm definitely not a damaged little flower."

"O,"

"I know Bell. We'll be back to visit next week…all of us."

He smiles at the mention of his nephew and pulls his sister into a hug.

When he retreats back into the camp, Clarke waves to him. She's sitting on one of Elias's horses, riding at his side. He waves back. He's uneasy, the way he felt just before the storm had hit earlier that month, but he blames the feeling on his ridiculous inner-feud with Elias and vows to do whatever he can to never succumb to jealousy again. Octavia was right, green was not a good look on Bellamy Blake.

It's past noon when it happens. He's just walked with Harper to medical, listening to her complain about sharing a living space with Monty and Jasper for the millionth time.
"I know we're still short on space but….the whole tent just always smells like something is burning."

He laughs and vaguely registers the sound of a group at the gates as he follows her through the plastic barrier into Medical. He assumes it's the hunting party they sent out that morning. It's ridiculous that what had actually happened didn't even cross his mind, especially considering he'd spent the better part of the morning talking himself out of being worried about her. But it takes Monroe barreling through the plastic and knocking him aside for the dread to sink in. Judging by the look on Monroe's face when she frantically meets his eyes, he was the last person she was hoping to run into.

"Bellamy, where's Dr. Griffin?"

"Making a house call," he says as he narrows his eyes, "Why what's wrong?"

"Do you know where she is exactly?"

"Monroe…"

"It's Clarke," she yells out like a confession "it's Clarke okay. We need Abby."

He gets that feeling in the pit of his stomach like he's freefalling, like it had just been waiting all day to plummet to his feet.

"What happened?"

"She's alive." Monroe reassures him, in a voice that sounds more terrified that reassuring.

"Where is she?"

He doesn't get his answer because Abby appears and starts barking orders and pushing people out the door. He's used to it, so he doesn't put up a fight until he sees one of Elias's men carrying Clarke in his arms. Her eyes are closed and her hair is wet and somehow he knows it's his fault. He should have fucking been with her. When he tries to power back through and take a place at Abby's side, Lincoln bumps him out of the way, Elias draped in between him and another man.

There's a lot of yelling, the standard amount of chaos when something serious is going on in Medical. He's losing patience as he stares around in shock.

"Bell," Octavia grabs his arm and pulls him towards her. Her eyes are wide and her face is much paler than usual. "Come with me."

"O what is…"

"Abby can take care of it. It'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

"What the fuck happened…"

"Come with me."

"No, no she needs…"

"What she needs is medical attention that you can't give her. Let's get out of their way. Bellamy, please trust me."

Two hours later he's sitting on the ground outside of medical with his head in his hands, listening to Octavia tell him the story for the fifth time.

"It was the all the rain. The river was flowing much stronger than usual. There was a group of women from Ton DC collecting packing clay from the bank, a little girl….she's only seven Bell, she leaned too far over and fell in. The current caught her. We heard her scream and the next thing I knew Clarke was jumping in after her."

After everything Clarke had lived through…she had almost been lost to a fucking river. "She can't even swim."

"Elias jumped in and caught up with them about a quarter of a mile down, they were holding onto some driftwood caught along the rapids. Clarke was out, Dana was barely holding onto her. "

Bellamy rubs his hands over his face. "Why isn't she waking up?"

Octavia rolls her eyes and digs her feet into the ground. She's even more anxious than she was this morning, anxious to get back to the village, get back to her son. She's sitting here babysitting her brother who is acting like an idiot and knows it. "She had a lot of water in her lungs….."

"Who the FUCK let her jump in?!"

"Bellamy…"

"No, no O she's the fucking chancellor's daughter. She's on the council! Are you telling me that all six of the full grown men walking with her were so fucking distracted that they didn't notice her jumping into a goddamn river?!"

"You yelling isn't going to make this better." Octavia snaps. She's started mothering him lately, it makes sense but he doesn't appreciate being looked at like a child being placed in time out.

"She could have died."

"She saved a girl's life."

"I knew I should have went with you. I fucking KNEW it."

"You can't follow her around for the rest of her life Bellamy. She's Clarke. She's always put other people before…."

"Do you think I don't know that?! Do you think that I'm not painfully fucking aware of how little she seems to value her own life?!"

A few people were looking at them now so Octavia shoots him a tight lipped glare, "You're making a scene Captain Blake."

"I could seriously give a fuck."

"She's gonna be okay. She's pulled through much worse."

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is? Bellamy… she's Clarke you know better than anyone that this kind of stuff is always gonna happen to her. You knew what you were signing up for…."

"Don't go there right now. I'm not having this conversation again with you today."

"The look on your face right now is not the look of a captain concerned for the wellbeing of the Chancellor's daughter."

"No, you know what? You're right. This is rage."

"If you think for a second that I see the looks you give her for anything less than what they truly are, you're fucking kidding yourself. I am the only other person on this planet that has seen that kind of love in your eyes."

"O," he warns.

"One of these days something horrible is going to happen and you'll regret not…."

"We are not talking about this."

She shakes her head "Well, it's a good thing Elias was there I guess."

"Stop trying to bait me."

"Is this going to be enough for you to stop glaring at him or…"

"Octavia, enough!"

"Stop being such a stubborn idiot."

He's spared another twenty minutes of relentless arguing when a girl comes out and tells him Clarke is awake. She's pale when he finally sees her and all she seems to care about is the fate of the little girl she'd been clinging too when Elias pulled her out of the river. Bellamy stands by in silence, barely even looking at her and only speaking when spoken too.

He knows he's being irrational. He sees that she looks confused and a little hurt when he dismisses himself from Medical so quickly after hearing Abby announce that she'll make a full recovery. He wants to touch her, feel her skin getting warmer and her heart beating stronger, but it's best if he keeps his distance right now. He's angry with her and furious with himself, and again it is irrational but…. He can't accept the fact that she almost died that day, that she'd survived war, and acid fog, and a missile , and snipers but she'd almost died…..like a normal person could almost die any day at any time. Clarke was only human. She could drown or catch a cold or misfire a gun and she'd be gone. It's a stupid thing to think about, because all it does it make his chest ache but….he can't save her from things like that, things that make people mortal. He should have been the one to jump in after her but…she'll always jump first, that's just who she is and God does he fucking hate her for that (although he knows that it's not exactly hate he's feeling as he stalks out of Medical with his fists clenched).

That night, when she's returned to her quarters (because no one could force Clarke Griffin to stay overnight in Medical without physically cutting her legs off) she sends Miller for him.

"Hey, Bellamy Clarke wants to…"

"Yeah, I got it." He snaps, stomping his way to her quarters with every intention of keeping his mouth shut until he can smother the urge to scream at her and then kiss her senseless. He storms into the room with his gun on his shoulders and a frown on his face and she glares at him like she knows what's coming.

"You know, when someone saves another person's life most people would consider that a good thing."

Bellamy rolls his eyes.

"Instead, you look offended, like I should have asked your permission first."

He adjusts his gun strap and raises his eyebrows in that disinterested way he knows she can't stand.

"Oh you've got nothing to say? Really? You know what Bellamy? Fine, be mad. I don't have the time or energy to try to figure you out."

He can feel the muscles in his jaw tightening. Finally he takes a deep breathe. "What you did today was reckless."

"She was a child."

"You can't even swim!"

"I managed."

"You almost died do you understand that? Can you pull your head out of the clouds long enough to realize that most of this camp depends on you and today you threw yourself into a raging river…"

"I was saving a life!"

"There were seven other people there Clarke!"

"I'm not going to apologize for preventing a child from drowning!"

"And that doesn't change the fact that you almost fucking died."

"Well, I didn't!"

"Yeah, because fucking Spartacus jumped in after you!"

If she's confused at all by his reference she doesn't show it, she just continues to glare at him.

"I cannot believe you're seriously arguing with me over this!"

She throws herself into her chair and pinches the bridge of her nose. He feels as bad as he usually when he knows he's causing her a stress headache, but he also can't control the words as they force themselves from his mouth.

"If this is how it's going to be, I'll walk."

"What?!"

"If you're going to keep being reckless, if you're gonna keep putting every person on this Earth before yourself, then I'm out. I won't do this with you not if your gonna go off and gamble with both of our lives like it's nothing. I don't know if you have some guilt-ridden fucking death wish or what but…"

"I did what was right Bellamy and you fucking know it. What kind of a person would turn their back on a drowning child?"

"A person who can't swim and is surrounded by six full grown men who can! Stop jumping at the chance to ease your own conscience and use your fucking head."

"All I needed to do was make sure she got ahold of something so they could grab her, and I did."

"At what cost Clarke?" she doesn't answer and her silence only pisses him off more, "I must be the stupidest man on this entire fucking planet."

"No arguments there."

"You think that was easy for me today? That I heard about your great river adventure and marveled at your heroism? I had to sit there and listen to your mother try to drain water from your lungs. It was supposed to be an easy trip to the village and somehow you end up on your fucking deathbed."

"Stop being so dramatic."

"I knew that I should have went…"

"No, no you can't keep doing that. You can't keep trying to fight everything for me."

"But Elias can?"

"I didn't ask for him to jump in…"

"But you had to go pick flowers with him right? Tell me Princess, did you find what you were looking for?"

She flinches when he snarls "Princess" and he hates himself for it.

"If you're just going to scream at me, get out. I'm not in the mood to listen to the ranting of a fucking psycho."

"I'm a psycho? You throw yourself into a river but I'm the psycho. Fine. Hope this helps you sleep better."

He winces as he storms away from her. Too far, way too far. Something in him has finally snapped. He's acting insane. He's acting the way he did when they first hit the ground: selfish, angry, inconsiderate King Bellamy. His hands are practically shaking when the cold night air hits his face. The moon is being smothered by big grey clouds in the night sky. It looks just like smoke, the horrible thick smoke that filled the air for days after Mt Weather. He almost laughs. It's been years, fucking years, and he and Clarke are still walking disasters. He stops just before he reaches the main fire and looks out at the grounder's camp. The voyage back to Ton DC had been delayed a day (except for Lincoln and Octavia who had insisted that they return as soon as they heard everyone was alright). Elias had been cleared from medical about an hour before Clarke was, apparently there were just a few cuts along his back that needed bandaging. Bellamy hadn't seen him when he went in to visit Clarke. He knew that Abby had all but sobbed on the man after Clarke woke up, thanking him for risking his life for her daughter. He'd even heard that Jasper and Miller had gone out of their way to thank him. Raven had told him, staring pointedly at him until he could practically hear the "if any of us, it should have been you" in his head.

It was one of those decisions he makes with his heart, the only part of him that could function without an external moral compass. He turns in the direction of the grounder fires before the jealous child in his head could talk him out of it. Feeling like Elias had robbed him of some valiant rescue would be stupid. Bellamy was grateful for what the man had done. He was frustrated with Clarke and indescribably irritated with himself for not going with his gut, Elias was the only one of them that Bellamy didn't feel any kind of aggression towards. He was a hero, and now that Bellamy had gotten most of his frustrations out on Clarke, he could say that without snarling the word like an insult.

A few people nod at him as he passes through the grounder camp. He hopes that he can simply pick Elias out, he doesn't want to have to ask after him, he wants the least amount of people involved in this as possible. It feels ridiculously private, thanking a man for saving Clarke's life, so he's relieved to find him sitting by himself at one of the smallest fires, restringing his bow.

"Elias?"

The man looks up and quickly shoots to his feet. "Captain Blake." He raises his arm and lays it across his heart (which Lincoln informs him is basically a salute), Bellamy freezes for a second, and then repeats the motion. He feels a little ridiculous, especially because technically in his own militia the grounder outranks him, but Elias gives him a small smile and a nod and gestures for him to sit on the log across the fire.

Bellamy sits and clears his throat. He has no idea how to start this. He's never even had a real conversation with the guy. "You weren't injured this afternoon?"

Elias looks up from the flames and shakes his head "No, I was lucky. We all were."

"I…." he shouldn't be stuttering. He sounds like a child "I wanted to thank you, in person, for going in after Clarke. I know the river was dangerous and…."

Elias waves his hand to silence him. "You are Octavia's brother?"

"Yes."

"I have heard a lot about you Captain Blake, about the Mountain."

He feels himself pale. Elias can't be much older than he is, but something about this man keeps making Bellamy feel like a gangly fifteen year old. "I did what I had to do." He says "the stories are…"

"Yes." Elias says "I hear stories of my own battles. They sound different coming from mouths who were not there. People do not understand blood unless they see it for themselves."

"They need heroes." Bellamy says "especially here, they need someone to believe in….even if that person has a lot of blood on their hands."

Elias nods "Clarke is important to your people."

"Yes."

"I have heard stories of her as well. She is not what I expected."

Bellamy snorts "Yeah, I know the feeling."

Elias shoots him a serious look and straightens up, "I lost my woman two winters ago," he says "to a sweating sickness."

Bellamy stares "I'm sorry."

"She thought I was a hero. She thought me better than what I am. What I did today, I did because it's what she would have expected of me."

Bellamy nods "I appreciate it. If you hadn't…." he shakes his head "She knew she couldn't swim but Clarke is…"

"A hero."

"Something like that."

"You love her."

Bellamy's face falls into a glare, like Elias is accusing him of something, daring him to argue. He's all but laughing at him "Do not waste time denying it my friend. Beautiful things are ripped so quickly from this world. There will come a day when you regret ever fighting what you feel for her."

"Look, I just wanted to thank you. This wasn't meant to turn into some deep conversation about…"

"All I wish to say to you Captain Blake, is that Clarke nearly died in my arms this afternoon. If she had, you and I would be having a much different conversation right now. I know the stories. It seems that fate has continued to give you second chances. It would be foolish to ignore that."

"Clarke's not like that." He says "she's not ready."

"Have you spoken to her since she's woken? Being brought from the brink of death can have quite the effect on a person."

"We…we had a discussion."

Elias smiles "You're angry with her."

"I think I'm just angry with the situation in general."

"I understand." He takes a deep breath "I have spoken to Clarke quite a bit since we've arrived. You and I have not had the same chance. I hope one day that may be remedied."

Bellamy nods "I hope so too."

"You should talk to her. Tell her everything you would have regretted keeping to yourself had today gone differently."

Bellamy stands, because it sounds like he's being dismissed. "I'm in your debt Elias."

"You defeated the Mountain. We are all eternally in your debt."

He shakes off the significant look Elias gives him. He's still not comfortable with the way people smile at him like he's a hero, not when they don't know half of the horrible things he's actually responsible for. It's probably why Clarke always says that they're different. Everyone knows about the choices Clarke had to make, Bellamy is lucky enough that most of his mistakes are buried in the long term memory of what's left of the 100. Clarke's status as hero has always come with an asterisk beside it, except for days like today when she gets to fight the small battles. He shouldn't have been angry with her for it. She wouldn't be Clarke if she hadn't jumped in. He just can't lose her like that….at all really. Clarke being gone, he's pretty sure that would demolish the feeble foundation his daily life is built on (and then there's the whole being at least half in love with her thing).

He can't see light under her door when he gets there. He's only been gone for about a half hour so she's either stormed off to hide from him somewhere or she's thrown herself into her bed. When he cracks the door open the grey light of the sky illuminates the shape of her body under her blankets. He steps in and lets his eyes adjust to the darkness without saying a word. He figures it's either his breathing or his boots that give him away.

"Whatever it is you have to say, I'm really not interested." She mumbles.

"I don't want to argue with you."

"You always want to argue with me."

"Clarke,"

"Bellamy," she sits up and he can feel the power of her glare through the darkness "I don't want to hear it. Get out."

He takes his gun from his shoulder and props it up against the table because yeah….he's not going anywhere.

"Fine," she snaps and her outline stands up to reach around on the floor in search of her clothing "fine, if you won't go I will."

He watches her pull her t-shirt over her head (takes a few steps closer during the three or four seconds it gets stuck and she curses furiously). When he's within an arm's length she's jumping on one leg, trying to wrestle the other one into her pants. He reaches out to steady her.

"Slow down." He whispers, his hands trailing down the sides of her bare legs until his fingers hook in her belt loops. She breathes against his collarbone as he slowly drags them up her hips and buttons them. There can't be much oxygen in the space between them, because his head is foggy and he's pretty sure she's almost panting.

"Go ahead." He says. She stares up at him and for once he actually hates the fucking darkness around them because the blue of her eyes just looks grey….like those damn clouds…like smoke.

"Bellamy," when she says his name his head falls forward, her breathy voice drawing his forehead against hers like a magnet. He can feel her eyelashes on his cheek, her nose subtly moving against his own. "You know how I…..you know that I can't…"

He knows, but even as she says it her hands wind around his neck. They're so close now that he swears he can feel her heart beating against his chest and there's something so intimate about that …..about actually feeling the one part of herself that she's so terrified of, the part of herself that saved them all. He knows how she feels; he knows that she doesn't believe in what this is, but more than anything he knows that he can't walk away. If the day is going to come when one of them drowns in a river, or catches a deadly cold, or misfires a gun….well, he'll be goddamned if he dies without her knowing how this feels.

"You almost died today," he reminds her softly as he starts to walk her backwards.

"That's nothing new."

He kisses her when the words hit him and she pulls at his shirt until they finally fall back into the straw of her mattress. In the midst of a storm of flying clothing, wandering lips, warm skin, and the sounds of her coming apart around his fingers he manages to apologize to her. Although he's not sure how sincere it sounds, since he mumbles it like he's begging her for something and all she does to respond is run her nails down his spin so he arches into her. Eventually she starts to fight him, she must recognize whatever is building in their mingled breathes because suddenly her hips start moving frantically, throwing off the pace he'd set, the one that was making her absolutely melt against him. He knows what she's doing, recognizes the desperate look in her eyes even in the darkness.

"Clarke," he stops and breathes into her neck "take it easy."

"No," she whines digging her heels into his calves "faster."

"No."

"Bellamy!"

"Shh." He kisses her and goes right back to slowly driving his hips into hers, so fucking slow that he's probably pulling a muscle somewhere from holding himself back. This is important, this is too important to be like that. He's making it pretty clear that this isn't the "fucking around" that both of them tend to do sometimes when things get hard and they find someone who can be satisfied with a one-time thing. This isn't the kind of thing that happens one time. It's a relief, because he's finally found some way to physically express how much she means to him. He's always believed in her. He's always known deep down that as long as she's around everything will end up okay. It's always come down to Clarke….ever since the beginning.

"Bell, please." she presses her nails into his back in frustration and kisses a line across his jaw. He gives in, because he's so gone right now it's almost laughable. One at a time, he pulls her legs up around his waist, until her feet cross behind him and suddenly he doesn't give a shit about the clouds in the sky because if he opened his eyes (which he can't even think clearly enough to do) he's sure he'd see fucking stars everywhere.

"Clarke," he says in something that is barely a voice "shit, you're so…."

"Don't" she snaps as she grips him tighter "don't tell me how tight or wet I am. I don't want to hear that…"

He kisses her roughly and brushes his hand across her stomach, down to that spot between them, "You're so fucking beautiful." It only takes one swipe of his thumb and she drags him into something bright and loud….something that feels like flying. He's no blushing virgin, he knows how it usually feels…..but this time it's totally different .He's done that hundreds of times….he's never done this. She clings to him all the way through, her face buried into his neck even when he stops and all but collapses on top of her.

Her limbs are still wrapped around him, he can feel every inch of her.

"You alright?" he pants.

"Yeah."

"You're shaking."

She lets out a small laugh and removes her legs from his waist. "Most guys would take that as a compliment."

He rolls off of her, intertwining their fingers so she can't pull too far away from him. He expects that, and it's sad but this is uncharted territory with them. As sure as he was that this was something that needed to happen….now that it's over, the fear starts to creep in. He chances a glance at her and she's smiling... staring up at the ceiling and smiling.

"So you get it now?" he says, knowing that it was a vague and ridiculous question that would probably just kill the mood.

She turns and faces him, the smile barely falling from her face "I always have."

"You understand why I acted like that, It's wasn't you…"

"I know. I would have felt the same way. Honestly….I get it. You forget that I know how it feels to almost lose you too."

He turns and pulls her to his side, smothering his face in her neck. "It's not the same thing."

"I think it is. You and I against the world right?" she laughs and pulls on his hair until he looks up at her.

"Think we're winning?"

She scoffs "No we're definitely loosing, but we're still here."

She's staring at their hands, his pretty much twice the size of hers.

"Clarke, you know….I mean…this wasn't just a natural, biological stress reliever."

He watches her grin a little, because he has a habit of quoting her like a book, "Do you feel stressed right now?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Bellamy," she says stubbornly "I told you that I get it…I know…I understand, and you're….you and I….I get it." When she looks at him her smile is gone. She's begging him to change the subject and as ridiculous as he thinks it is to act like this after what they just did….he knows that she doesn't need some asshole pushing her into something she's not ready for. She needs her friend. She needs the person who has stood by her side and had her back even when she felt like she didn't deserve it. She needs the man who watched her take every shot to the heart, who shared in the pain of most of it.

The truth is, Bellamy knows there's a chance that those words (I and love and you) won't ever be said between the pair of them. That's not to say that the love isn't there (because he can see it when she looks at him sometimes) but the fact of the matter is that some things are left unsaid. Bellamy and Clarke may not be written in the stars but fuck it, the clouds end up hiding them half of the time anyway. The important thing isn't that they get some kind of a happy ending, it's that they even existed at all.

A man who dabbled in being the villain, who was selfish and arrogant and tenacious, who carried the weight of the world strapped to his back like a rifle, who stumbled into being a hero and a king and a knight found a girl who'd lost every man who'd ever loved her, who marched with her head held high even when there was blood on her hands, who was a beacon of hope and a voice of reason but still had to make the hard choices, who drew pictures and loved a watch and made wishes on falling stars. Two lonely people from opposite ends of a post-apocalyptic spectrum, in the midst of war and acid fog and fear that hung around like the moon, managed to find something safe within each other. And it's all a complete disaster…. but it's pretty goddamn beautiful.