A/N: Thanks for the feed back guys. I was asked to continue this story in Bellamy's POV which I was planning to do, so that's just a plus! I have ideas about including what Bob Morley has said about the Bellarke separation and how Bellamy feels about it. Also, THAT SPOILER PICTURE OF CLARKE!

The Inspiration for this chapter came from the song "Got A Little Drunk Last Night" by Eli Young Band. If you don't like country, you can just look up the lyrics. They're awesome!

Also, all of my chapters are un beta'd so excuse any typos or bad grammar.

Anyways, enough of my ranting. Here it is. Let me know how you like it!

Chapter 2

I got a little too far gone
Heart was talking way too loud
I don't remember what I said
I just remember breaking down

A week had passed since Clarke had left camp, and though Chancellor Abby had drilled Bellamy with questions about her daughter, he was unable to answer any of them. He didn't know anything except that Clarke had left him to deal with the Mount Weather aftermath by himself.

Angry wasn't the leftover emotion Bellamy recognized as the days passed. It was more like, disappointment, hurt, frustration. His hands found themselves tangled in his hair way to often, fisting themselves until his scalp was burning painfully. He cracked his knuckles often too, and told himself that it was normal, that he was angry, and refused to accept the other emotions that overwhelmed him.

His nightmares, filled with faces of people he had lost on the ground and in the ark, kept him up at night, and he decided that no sleep was better than painful, fitful rest.

Three weeks after Clarke had walked away, Bellamy was on construction duty, a morning council meeting looming over his day.

"We need to place more people on hunting duty." Bellamy interjected, when Kane talked about rations. Abby gazed up at him, narrowing her eyes.

"We don't have enough guns to send people out," Kane responded as if the fact was obvious. It was.

"I get that, but winter is almost here. And even with rationing, the food we have wont last us til spring." Bellamy said plainly, placing his hands on the table. "We have some other weapons we can use. Knives, spears—"

"It's suicide," Kane interjected, "Our alliance with the tree people is done; they betrayed us. We can't trust them to be peaceful."

"The grounders will kill our people on sight." Abby provided.

"Our people have trained for months, they know how to use their weapons." He countered.

"It seems like way too big of a risk to take," said another council member.

"It's a risk we need to take." Bellamy pressed, "It's either we chance it out there, or we starve here."

A small silence followed, and Chancellor griffin met Bellamy's eyes again. She nodded and dragged her eyes to Kane. "He's right. There's nothing else we can do."

Kane's eyebrows drew together, but he didn't object to Abby's authority. "We need a plan."

"We'll send people in teams, the guns will go with the hunters, they need to go out further. And the people with more…" Abby paused, "rudimentary weapons will accompany gatherers. They'll find berries, mushrooms, and things of that sort. They will stay closer to camp in case of any emergencies. We can start tomorrow."

Bellamy gave a sharp nod, "That's how we did it at the dropship." He said, and the memory of the last hunt that they led at the old crash site took him back to the time Clarke and Finn had been captured.

After the meeting was adjourned, Bellamy returned to the west side of the camp, to help with the construction of the cabins. His mind replayed the moment when Clarke ran into camp with Finn after being freed by Lincoln. Part of Bellamy wished the moment would repeat itself here at Camp Jaha, even under the current circumstances, Clarke was needed by her people. The other part of him, however, berated himself for being so weak and wistful. She chose to leave us. We were too much for her.

The day wore on, and they only paused for water breaks and lunch. By the end, most of the foundations and beams of the cabins were up, and Bellamy patted a few backs without a smile. He sent the workers on their way and sat on a large rock to admire the day's work. He sucked in a long breath when he spotted Octavia walking toward him from the corner of his eye.

"Hey," she called. He turned his head and nodded at her with a tight smile. "Good work today," she smiled.

"Thanks. There was a lot of help."

"Good." She paused, looking at the cabins. She lifted a toned arm and pointed at one of the larger cabins. "That one is the clinic."

Bellamy tensed.

"I overheard the Chancellor talking about it with some guy earlier."

Bellamy nodded stiffly as he put his weight forward onto his elbows and placed them on his knees. He looked down at his hands and rubbed them together.

"When are you going to say you miss her?" She murmured. Bellamy sighed and stood up, starting toward his tent.

"Bell!" She called him and followed, "I know it hurts, okay? She left you here to deal with everything by yourself, and it sucks, but I know you miss her."

"I don't miss her. She left. That was her choice." He managed, staining his voice with that anger he so desperately needed to keep him alive.

"Bell, please." She pleaded, "Just let it out. I see you holding it in everyday. Its written on your face.

Leave it to Octavia to decipher his life for him.

"I'm tired, O. I'll see you at dinner." He concluded and beelined for his tent to gather some clean clothes, forcing himself to be angry instead of pained.

He took a turn in the make shift showers the engineers had built by the lake, washing himself off completely with some soap Monty had crafted and changed in his tent. He brushed his curls with his fingers, and sank on his bed with fatigue. He let himself drift off for a few moments and was at peace for a small amount of time, but flashes of blonde hair managed their way into his thoughts soon after, and the sound of her faded voice echoed in the back of his brain.

He was forgetting the sound of her voice.

That quickly? He panicked. He sat up and rubbed his face with his rough hands and groaned. The exhaustion of the day was causing the dam of his emotions to build up to the brim. He could feel the energy draining out of him and the impending spill of feelings that he kept bottled up. His willpower was diminishing by the second and he could feel the pain seeping through the cracks. Sucking a ragged breath, he pressed against his eyes with the hilts of his hands and tried to calm himself.

Bellamy strained against his muscles and got up to drag himself to dinner. He sat by himself at first with a stoic stace, but of course Octavia came to his rescue after a few minutes, Lincoln trailing behind her. He smiled gratefully at her, and she could tell he was struggling tonight.

Someone, Bellamy didn't see who, announced that there was fresh moonshine available, and Bellamy knew he was in trouble when he asked for a cup. He had started drinking more than he usually did. One cup led to two, and two led to… more? He couldn't keep counts straight, and there was no one to monitor him, since he usually got drunk in the pathetic darkness of his tent. But tonight he wanted to drink in the open, and couldn't bring himself to care, no matter that he was at the receiving end of a perturbed look by his little sister.

"this isn't what I meant by 'let it out,'" growled Octavia, but he ignored her and ordered another cup of Mooshine.

He mostly stayed out of the conversation until he witnessed Octavia giving Lincoln a loving look, and he suddenly found himself speaking, "You're all grown up now, O." He smiled, a slight slur in his words.

Octavia eyed him cautiously. "I think you're done for tonight." She stated.

"Me? Na. I'm good."

"You've had a long day, Bell. Lets get you to bed." She suggested, standing.

"What? No. I'm enjoying myself for the first time in a while." He slurred some more.

Octavia gave a pleading look to Lincoln and he stood and offered his hand to Bellamy.

"I don't need your help grounder," He spit viciously and Octavia seethed. They were supposed to be over that; Bellamy had already moved past all of his and Lincoln's animosity. But Lincoln stood unperturbed and continued to offer his hand to Bellamy.

"Bellamy, get up right now." She demanded. Bellamy shook his head heavily and took another sip of his cup.

"Where do you think she is right now, O?" He mused softly. Octavia rolled her eyes and moved to pull him up with Lincoln. He didn't object this time, and they led him to his tent.

"Do you think she went back to the grounders?" He asked, but he expected no answer. "I hope not. That fucking, what's her face? Comander Lexa,"

"Bellamy, please." Octavia pleaded as the walked to his tent. People eyed them suspiciously.

"Seriously, what the hell?" He said, "How could she trust her? I told her not to trust them."

He kept muttering to himself as they entered his tent and they sat him on his bed. Octavia knelt in front of him and brushed some hair back.

"Bell, get some sleep tonight, okay?"

Somehow, he seemed to look like a petulant child, pouting. He shook his head at her again. He knew he'd be plagued by nightmares as soon as he closed his eyes. And though the thought of blonde hair and blue-green eyes were haunting him at present, they'd cause him even more terror and pain in his sleep.

"Do you think she thinks about us, O?"

The concern on his voice was so thick, Octavia's face fell. "I'm sure she does, Bell."

Bellamy nodded and laid back on his bed, resigning himself.

He dozed off that night with her name on his lips.

Clarke.