The room was crowded, all elbows and hair as far as Clarke could see. It was standing room only with so many of the kids pushed together, but they didn't seem to mind. They all chattered away with each other as she watched from the doorway.

Wells stood with her, waiting for her to be ready, but Clarke feared she might never be. She heard all their voices, pinpointing the individual sounds of near one hundred teenagers with no real strain; it was like she'd been prepared to hear them. The pain in her head and stomach returned keeping her at bay in the doorway, waiting on relief that wouldn't come.

A girl with dirty blond hair and dark brown eyes glanced back at the figures lingering behind her, blocking the entrance. Her eyes flashed with something new as they landed on Clarke. She whipped back around and shoved the boy in front of her.

"It's Clarke," she hissed, "Clarke Griffin." The room erupted with the whispers like wild fire, an entire room hissing her name, muttering 'Clarke'.

"It's the prince and princess," someone finally said.

Clarke's fingers found their way to her eyebrows as her head pounded so much, she feared it might break. It was strange; she'd always hated that nickname. Princess, like she was somehow so far above them. She was privileged, yes, but on the ark even privilege only got you so far. It certainly hadn't done her father any good.

Clarke glanced at the prince beside her, the one who'd gotten her father killed. She still wasn't mad. Even the nickname didn't bother her as much as it should have. It hadn't been said so viciously either, like it had when they were younger. She didn't feel any resentment now, maybe it was the aftereffects of the drugs still floating around in her system. Still, no matter the memories of being teased and ignored, or the years of just her and Wells against every kid their age, when the faces in the room turned to look at her, she was relieved to see them.

They parted like she really was a princess, every pair of eyes in the room locked onto hers. Wells hand clasped onto her shoulder as she stared into their faces. The others were all still whispering, but she hardly heard them. Clarke was watching a wave of dark brown hair shove her way through the parting crowd to the front.

The girl stopped in front of the prince and princess -though it was really more like she'd jumped in front of them and stuck the landing. The girl had a strange amount of energy. Despite the deathly serious glare in her gleaming green eyes, her other features practically bounced.

"Clarke have you seen my brother?" the girl blurted and stepped a little closer. They were nearly the same height.

"No one has a brother," someone muttered.

"That's Octavia Blake!" someone else called and the girl seemed to cringe. "She's the girl they hid under the floor for sixteen years."

"Look, princess, you were the last one out of the sleep chamber," Octavia continued as Clarke tried to ignore the strange feeling the girl gave her.

"There were a few still asleep when I left, he- he could have been one of them," Clarke stammered. "But I... I really don't know."

"What did your mom say?"

"Ah," Clarke muttered, biting her lip. She tried to hide the pain spotting her vision, but Wells leaned in when her balance suddenly wavered.

"Hey," he whispered. "We don't have to stay. We can go."

"Clarke?" someone else interrupted. A boy with dark, narrow eyes and shiny black hair cut between a few people to her right. Another boy, with goggles on his face, stumbled along behind him. Both were thin framed and gangly, but their wide eyes stared at Clarke like she had her own solar system. That was the last thing she saw before her vision suddenly blacked.

"Ow," she hissed and grabbed her head, which was a bad idea because it left her without the ability to catch herself when the floor fell out from under her.

"Clarke!" someone called and both boys reached out to catch her in a net of their arms. "What happened?"

"I uh," Clarke tried to explain, pushing the strangers away as her sight slowly returned. "Thanks," was all she said. She didn't owe them anything.

"Clarke," Wells echoed worriedly.

"I'm fine," she tried to assure him, standing on her own, and she was fine -mostly... The pain in her head was clearing, but the knot in her stomach continued to make her shiver slightly, worsening the longer she looked around at the vaguely familiar faces.

She caught her eyes roaming them, searching them. It was as if her eyes were playing a game, but her mind hadn't been told the rules. What am I looking for? She couldn't seem to find it in any of the one hundred different sets of features, although Octavia Blake seemed to come close.

"Alright there, Princess?" someone sighed as Clarke was pulled back by her braided hair. The tenor voice belonged to a slyly smiling boy with a floppy head of brown hair. Clarke's own hair fell into her face as she watched him. He pointed at her nose before she could answer. "You look better that way, more natural."

"Great now give me my hair tie back," she muttered, but the boy slipped out of her reach and laughed.

"This is Finn," Wells explained, catching the boy by the shoulder of his coat. Clarke couldn't take her eyes off of him and it made her gut roar with an almost painful chill and her fists clenched to keep her composure.

"I prefer, Spacewalker," the boy assured him and let Wells rip the simple ribbon out of his hand.

"You wasted oxygen," Clarke said, but her eyes still seemed to care enough to linger on him and so did his on her. They locked gazes as Wells gave Clarke her ribbon back. She tied her hair back again, without breaking their stare.

Finn's eyes were intense, looking into her, not at her. She felt her heart begin to race, but something inside pleaded with her not to pry her eyes from his.

It was the same feeling she'd gotten when she'd forgiven Wells. It was an unexplained force of emotion, telling her what she wanted, and this time, she wanted to look at this boy's eyes and let him look back. The lively spark in his challenging stare was enough to keep her in his gaze as long as he wanted.

"It was fun," the boy continued when he finally blinked. "Besides, the Ark's fixed anyway. No harm done."

Clarke thought about her head and wasn't sure that was true, not that Finn was to blame. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at his lower station attitude, worried only about his own day to day existence -or in this case boredom.

Clarke and Wells had been raised to consider the welfare of the Ark population first, individuals second. The fleeting thought of her father crossed Clarke's mind, but she pushed it away quickly and tried to refocus on Finn.

"Alright Finn, quit hogging her," Wells grumbled.

"Yes, your majesty," the boy sighed and bowed. Wells took Clarke's arm and shifted passed before Finn could look back up. She smiled once at Finn and finally turned away, but Clarke felt her head pull back and her hair flopped down over her shoulders again.

"So Clarke, what are we going to do?" asked the dark haired boy, pushing up beside her again.

"Yeah, what's the plan?" insisted the boy in goggles as he leaned in closer to her. Clarke took a half-step back, or at least as far as she could in the crowded room.

"Um… I don't know, what do you guys normally do when you meet?"

"Clarke, these two are from agriculture station, Monty and Jasper," Wells tried to clarify, although it really didn't explain why they were suddenly looking at her like a piece of broken equipment –and not just any old hardware either. These two were staring at Clarke the way Abby had looked when her father said the Ark was failing.

Clarke reached up to her head again as whatever was inside fought too hard to get out. She shuffled back, forcing her way into the people crowding around her. Wells tried to follow her, but so did Jasper and Monty.

"I –I don't think I'm going to stay. I need more rest," she stuttered then twisted around and fought her way back out through the crowd without waiting for Wells to follow her.

At night, everyone was under curfew. The whole station was silent, aside from the incessant hum of the Ark engine, which seemed louder than usual. Clarke tried to ignore it as she passed through the corridors. She made her way around, staring at the walls and ceiling, taking in every crack and scrape that she'd already memorized as a child. She didn't know what she was looking for, or why she thought going out might help her sleep. She'd just done it.

Barefoot, she slunk through the halls. Station by station, she walked around, doing nothing but walking and looking. Every turn or two, she'd run her hand along the walls. The whole place seemed so empty, so cold, so strange.

What am I looking for? She knew the answer was something familiar. Familiar? I've never spent a second outside these stations. Everything is familiar.

She heard a door open and jumped behind a corner. She knew it was only a matter of time before one of the guards came across her on their rounds. It had been several stations now, and she hadn't seen anyone. She pushed her head back against the wall and figured she could just tell them she'd been sleepwalking. It wasn't really a lie. Sleepwalking was a possible side effect of the medication she was taking.

She pushed a loose hair back behind her ear and looked around the corner. One of the civilian quarter doors was hanging open. Two people stood in the hall, embracing. Clarke pushed out from behind the corner. She recognized the long brown hair of Octavia Blake on the back of one of their heads.

The other was a mystery, but his stature and black, curly hair set Clarke's mind on fire. The throbbing in her head was replaced by her heart beat as the young man lifted his head and set his sky blue eyes on hers.

"Clarke," Octavia whispered, seeing her. They pulled out of the hug slowly and the girl backed toward the door, watching both of them, but Clarke and the young man stood still. She looked at how his eyes set against his freckled face as he looked back at her.

"This is my brother," Octavia continued. "Um... Bellamy."

Suddenly, something snapped. The cold in her stomach, the pain in her head, everything except her racing heartbeat was gone. Clarke stepped forward, so did he. He's familiar. She knew it more and more certainly the closer he came. She'd been looking for him.

They walked the hall between them slowly, but sure in their destination. He was still wearing clothes from the sleep chamber and his feet were as bare as hers. There was no sound in the hall as they moved, only their eyes, locked on each other, and the pounding heartbeat echoing in Clarke's ears.

When they met, his arms were already wrapping around her shoulders. She slid hers around his waist and stayed there, holding each other up for a moment, as if neither of them had been doing a good enough job of it on their own. Then she pulled back to see his eyes again, but not enough to let go.

Clarke slipped onto her tiptoes as he leaned down. She shut her eyes and they pressed their lips together, delicately at first, then harder. He pulled her in tight and held her close to him. For the first time since she'd woken up, Clarke felt like things might be alright.

End to episode one.

Stay tuned for episode two...