Chapter4

Octavia had been right about one thing, the moonshine did make it easier to put aside her confusion over whatever was happening. It also made it absolutely hysterical when Myles had spun the bottle and it had landed on Clarke.

Clarke, who had been unaware up to that point that 16 year old Myles had a crush on her (made clear to all by his red cheeks and stammering), had gamely puckered up her lips and kissed him on the mouth, drawing cat calls and laughter from the other teens in the circle. Clarke grinned and looked up through her lashes as Myles as he stumbled away, an awed look on his face.

"Has our princess found her pauper?" Bellamy asked. Clarke turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, still smiling.

"What's that?" Octavia asked.

"An old children's tale," Clarke said.

"Well then I wouldn't know it, Bellamy insisted on reading me historical stories about war and conquerors and the rise and fall of kingdoms, not a single princess to be found."

"You didn't miss much," Clarke said easily. "Most of the traditional fairy tales involved princesses getting in trouble, not doing much, then getting saved by prince charming."

Octavia scoffed. "I don't mind a cute boy rescuing me now and then, but come on."

Bellamy's expression darkened and Octavia nudged Clarke's side, smirking at her brother. Clearly needling each other was a sibling thing too.

"It's your turn Clarke," Harper called out softly, wary eyes on Bellamy.

"Oh, right." She spun the bottle, biting her lip as it turned round and round, finally coming to rest on Del, a cute guy with dark hair and a surly attitude. Clarke forced a smile and stood to walk over to him, but the bottle wobbled on the uneven ground and tilted towards Monty. Clarke's smile grew more genuine and the group, including Del, seemed to relax suddenly. Clarke gave her friend a sweet chaste kiss on the lips, smacking her lips and winking as she pulled away, laughing at the deer in the headlights look on Monty's face.

"And I think that's it for me tonight, guys," Clarke said, stepping past Monty to exit the circle they had formed, good-natured called of 'party pooper' following her.

Bellamy fell in step with her. "You turning in, Princess?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Another busy day tomorrow." He didn't reply but walked with her back to her tent.

She stopped outside the flap, looking up at him. "Well. Good night."

He nodded and watched her duck inside before walking back towards the campfire, wanting to check in on the guards one more time before retiring to his tent for the night.

"You're on the verge of being pathetic, you know," Octavia's said quietly, popping up at his side and linking her arm with his how she used to do when they'd walk around their tiny quarters on the Ark while pretending to be in the main community rooms on the Ark, Bellamy pointing out things she would never see.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," she laughed. "Just like I don't know that you're crushing on Clarke."

"Leave it alone, Octavia."

"Like you leave me alone? Oh no, big brother, I'm going to enjoy being up in your business," she smiled up at him happily, and he almost couldn't begrudge her attitude.

"It's nothing."

"Uh-huh."

-The 100-

The next morning Bellamy went to check in on Clarke in the drop ship, finding her, Raven and Monty in deep discussion on how much to tell the Ark about their circumstances on the ground.

"You don't trust them," Raven said, sounding both contemplative and accusing.

"Would you? They sent us down here without anything that might help us survive, they can say they're happy about our survival all they want, but we were little more than lab rats to them."

"Not to your mom," Raven objected.

"And the Chancellor, he sent his son..." Monty objected.

"Yeah, 'cause Wells forced his hand, but even then they didn't send water or even a med kit," Clarke said darkly, looking over at Bellamy. "We were sent solely as a human experiment on radiation exposure. My mom... she might have had some reason to believe we could survive, but she also knew that there was no way they were letting me or any of the rest of us, except Wells out, retrials or not. The Ark is dying. We were expendable. This was a hail mary, nothing more."

"That's why Clarke is always asking them for data and insisting on getting them to give us info on shelters and radiation levels rather than answering their questions," Bellamy interrupted. "If they come-"

"When they come," Clarke interrupted.

"We'll have some hard choices to make," Bellamy finished, and Clarke nodded, reaffirming his statement.

"Choices..." Monty asked.

"Choices like whether to rejoin the Ark," Clarke said simply. "Choices like do we trust them not to kill us or lock us up again if we don't play by their rules."

Monty looked concerned, knowing that the freedom in the camp would not be given up easily. He certainly wasn't looking forward to living under totalitarian rule again.

"But we need them," Raven said softly, recalling the thousand instances she'd longed for the tools and technology the Ark had during her short time on the ground.

"And they need us," Bellamy said insistently, in his 'I'm the leader, don't question me' tone.

Raven and Monty found something they needed to do quickly after that, a common occurrence these days whenever Bellamy approached Clarke.

"You sleep well?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Clarke responded her nose wrinkling with confusion.

"Warm?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Yes. Very warm. Octavia brought your blanket back, and slept over, so I was very warm. Thanks. And I guess I'll see you tonight."

Bellamy looked perplexed for a second but his expression cleared quickly. "Yeah. Tonight."

He stormed out of the drop ship, his eyes searching the camp for his sister. Seeing her by the food drying tables, he stormed towards her scattering teens from the area. "What did you do?"

"Oh, hey Bell."

"What did you do?"

Octavia's eyes gleamed with laughter, but she feigned ignorance. "You're going to have to be more specific, so much of what I do seems to annoy you."

"I have plans, with Clarke, tonight?"

"Oh, yeah!" she laughed. "Well, not with Clark per say, but I did get you invited into her tent, which is more than you've managed..."

"What did you do?"

"I was telling bedtime stories to the girls Clarke shares with, they wanted more, so I said you'd deliver some. Tonight." Bellamy glared at her, but it had no effect on her amusement. "You want her to see you in a different way. Giving her stuff is not going to do it, Bell. Clarke might have been raised on Phoenix, but she's not into material stuff or status at all. You're going to have to show here who you really are. Soft side and all," Octavia said seriously. "Not that you know what I'm talking about."

-The 100—

That night Bellamy came into Clarke's tent, pausing at the entrance, seeing that it was crowded with all the younger children in camp. Sometimes Bellamy forgot that the eight of them were actually children, not almost adults like Clarke, Miller or Jones. These ones, five girls and three boys were 15 at their oldest. Still kids, and apparently still eager for bedtime stories. Clarke smiled at Bellamy's uncharacteristic uncertainty, but he overcame it quickly, coming inside and sitting at the end of Clarke's pallet, the children shifting position to gather around him.

"Have you guys ever heard of Julius Cesar?"

Clarke sat a little outside the circle, her arms wrapped around her knees as she listened to Bellamy weave a tale of triumph, greed, and ultimate death. Her face was soft with amused pride as the children hung on his every word and he played on their ignorance, building suspense.

Once the children were asleep, Bellamy turned his head to look at Clarke who looked peaceful and relaxed for once. Standing up he held his hand out for her and she took it without hesitation, letting him lead her outside.

"I should have known."

"What?"

"That you would be a good story teller, you're good at speeches, so…"

"Not exactly the same thing," he said with a pleased smile.

"No, but the skill set is similar. And…" She trailed off her large, blue eyes shining up at him in the moon light.

"And?"

"And you're good with kids. Which I did know, but still."

"They're frightened of me," he said bleakly, recalling how they'd sat close together and as far away from him as possible while remaining in the tent. It had been obvious that it was only Clarke's presence that made them brave enough to show up to listen to him tell stories.

"They're frightened in general, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Earth is dangerous, they need to be cautious until we're better adapted for life here. Maybe they are a little afraid of you, Bellamy, maybe they need you to be scary in their minds in order to believe that you can protect us."

"Do you believe that I can protect us?" he asked his eyes focusing on her expression.

She frowned, considering it. "Yeah." She stopped along the fence, beyond the hearing of the teens who surrounded the camp fire, talking or just standing shoulder to shoulder silently. "I think you're our best chance at survival." She said, her expression serious, but he could see she had more to say. "We will lose more people, Bellamy. And that won't be your fault. It's inevitable. Grounders, radiation, the animals and terrain here. Winter, flu-"

"OK, I get it."

"I do trust you. You're smart and you're a good leader and you care. We couldn't ask for anything more."

Bellamy nodded and looked down, her words easing some of the tension that had been with him ever since he'd realized that Earth wasn't going to kill them immediately, but would likely take many of their lives, in the end.

-The 100—

The next few days brought no more illumination to whatever was going on with Bellamy.

"Bellamy," she said stridently, storming into the command center tent, her face a mask of annoyance. "I don't have time for this!"

Bellamy nodded towards the door and the rest of the people in the tent disappeared. Clarke barely even noticed, it was such a common occurrence now. Anywhere she and Bellamy were together was suddenly a ghost town.

He turned towards her, watching as she stopped a mere foot from him. "Time for what, Princess?"

"You know what I mean," she questioned, her irritation at being watched closely by most of the camp having climbed to unbearable proportions.

"Do you have time for me?" he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Of course," she replied quickly, without having to think about it.

"That's great, Princess, then I'll see you tonight and hopefully if things go well, shed some light on the topic."

He saw her lower lip jut out, her chin rising another inch. In her mind, it was just another delay. Nailing down Bellamy on anything he didn't want to talk about was more difficult than getting the Council to tell the truth. "Why can't you-"

"I'm heading out on a hunting trip now, we'll talk tonight."

Clarke blew out an annoyed breath as Bellamy walked past her and out of the tent. Without a plan for how to turn the situation in her favor she hurried after him. "Bellamy," she called out, stopping him before he exited the camp with a small group.

"Look, Clarke," he said with a hint of weariness in his voice. "I told you-"

"I know, tonight. Fine. Just… be careful out there," she said, abandoning her plan to basically harass him into telling her what she wanted to know.

A faint smiled turned up the corners of his mouth, and he looked down before meeting her eyes. Reaching out a hand, he hesitated, then touched her jaw, just for a moment before his hand landed on her shoulder. "Careful Princess, I might start to think you actually care about me."

Her expression bordered on exasperation, but her eyes were pools of clear blue certainty. "You're an idiot. And you know I care about you, at least enough to not want you dead."

"That's a start," he said, squeezing her shoulder and then walking away, the gate closing behind him.

"A start to what?" she wondered out loud.

-The 100—

Bellamy knew the exact moment he realized he was in trouble. It had started raining lightly as he sat against the tree with Clarke at his side, Dax's dead just feet away.

The rain had darkened her hair, wetting her clothing and she was beginning to shiver. He barely felt the cold, so numb from the inside out from the events of the night. He'd looked at her, neither of them willing to get up and move yet, despite the dampness, their bodies and souls tired in a way they had never experienced on the Ark, no matter how difficult their circumstances had been there.

She was trembling, her cheeks pale, making the pink of her lips and the blue of her eyes even more marked. And despite everything, the fact that he'd just almost died, that she'd just almost died trying to save him, that he'd just taken a life, his first, because he was certain that it would not be his last, not here, not on Earth, not if he wanted to survive, despite everything the only thought in his head was that she was beautiful. Maybe if she'd looked like a drowned rat in the rain, his thought process would have stopped there. But she didn't. She looked wet, cold, tired, hurt, and beautiful, as if she were lit with an inner light.

It wasn't like he'd never thought it before. Clarke was undeniably attractive, he'd noted and discarded the thought before the drop ship door even opened.

It was different now. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, it was he saw her beauty as more than skin deep. More than the golden halo of wavy hair, or the wide eyes that alternately begged and demanded that he be better, it was her strength, her kindness, her intelligence and her determination to keep them all together and alive that made her beautiful. She was willing to stand up and make the hard choices, and that meant he didn't have to do it all alone.

And he needed her. Not her porcelain skin, or curvy body, but her. He needed her to balance him. He needed her to let him know when he had it right and when he got it wrong. He was more than willing to take the reins, make the decisions, set the plans into action, and accept the consequences, but he'd found himself looking to her for her opinion, for her guidance, for her approval. He'd begun to rely on it.

And that was dangerous. It was her words that rang in his head, "I forgive you" instead of the nightmare of his hallucinations. It was her face that filled his mind, not Dax's as the life faded from his eyes. Her earnest expression as she'd told him she needed him.

He'd let himself believe that it would be OK, that needing her was OK, that wanting her was a natural biological response and one he could control. They could be leaders together, even friends, and he could control it.

Then she'd spoken to Chancellor Jaha on his behalf. Stuck up for him. Made the case for why he deserved mercy. That he had earned his freedom. That his life had value. That he had saved lives, and that in the end he was worthy of a second chance, his good outweighing his bad.

It was then that he knew he had to distance himself from her. He would be weaker for needing her. She was a distraction he couldn't afford.

And, he thought to himself, she would be better off without him. He would only taint her, dim her light.

He'd pushed her away to save her from himself, and found that while Earth was a wide open space, he was possibly more trapped here than he'd ever been on the Ark. Here he had responsibilities. People relied on him for their basic survival. Here there were eighty odd Octavias, all needing him to be smart and make the right decisions.

He was in charge, so when Clarke was hurt because he couldn't handle how he felt about her, because he wasn't willing to wait and watch as he drained the goodness from her, wait and dread the day that she finally saw him for who he really was and changed her mind about his worth before walking away and taking her light with her, it was all on him. He'd wanted power, the ability to shape his own life and the world around him, and he had it. But now the consequences of his actions all came back to him.

He hadn't wanted to taint her, hadn't wanted to weaken his position by showing that he'd fallen for her. But without him, she wasn't safe in the camp or outside of it.

So he'd changed course. If she wasn't safe without him, then he would have to keep her with him. And he couldn't keep her with him without at least asking her to be his. And if she said yes, if she accepted him, then to keep her with him and not sully her with his darkness, he needed to be better. He needed to feel like he deserved her. He needed to be the person she said he could be.

Bellamy knew she was attracted to him on a basic level. Knew she liked him to a certain extent. But he had no idea how she would respond when he finally laid his cards on the table.

-The 100—

Reentering camp after the hunting trip, Bellamy found Clarke waiting along with several of the others. Her eyes searched him for any injuries, but found him safe and whole. "How'd it go?"

"Not great, but every bit counts now," he said as he turned his head from her to watch the two deer, both small, be carried into camp. "I think we might have a better chance of catching boars with a smaller group, our best trackers only."

"We should send out gathering crews too, get as much of the edible tree bark and sap as we can. They won't go bad, and we'll need the calories," she added, falling in step with him as he headed for the campfire, needing to get warm again. "It's getting colder each night, it seems like," she offered quietly.

He frowned at her. "You OK? Warm enough in your tent?"

She smiled up at him softly. "Yeah. The buildings will help, we'll need them before long, but I'm OK."

He turned his frown on one of the four almost complete buildings. They'd tried to build their first roof the day before and suffered a spectacular failure and lost two of their best builders to falling injuries.

"Hey," she called his attention back to her. "You did good today. Two deer. We'll get the roofing figured out."

And that was why he needed her. She believed in him, in them as a group. She made him believe that they could survive. All the others may have believed in him, but he believed in her.

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