"Clarke, you shouldn't be here," Bellamy said as he grabbed her wrist, pulling her away. Clarke had just walked in the room where Raven, still unresponsive, was laying motionless.

Bellamy had a tight grip on her arm, but was extremely careful not to place his hands on her wound. She pulled back and tried to get her arm loose, but Bellamy continued to drag her with him, not affected by her struggle to break free. He wasn't going to let her feel anymore guilt if he could help it.

"Bellamy let me go!" she screamed, continuing to fight against his grip.

Bellamy said nothing and continued on walking towards the medical entrance steadily, occasionally faltering when Clarke's strength got the best of him.

When they had finally entered medical, Bellamy let go of Clarke, who had been trying to pull away with so much force that she stumbled forward a bit.

Pure hatred was gleaming in Clarke's eyes when she looked at Bellamy, who stood a few feet away from her, planted in front of the exit. But the hatred wasn't directed towards Bellamy; it was directed towards herself.

Clarke had so much pent up emotions and they finally seemed to be surfacing after so much time of holding them in.

"She is like this because of me!" Clarke shouted, taking a few angry steps towards Bellamy.

"No, Clarke. It was the grounders. The grounders did this to her." Bellamy said, trying to get through to her.

"You don't understand. The grounders did this to Raven to get to me. I was the one they wanted."

Bellamy stared, unsure of what to say. Clarke was right. The grounders had been looking for her. But she was not to be blamed for what had happened to Raven. Clarke wasn't the one who left her to die.

Clarke stared into Bellamy's eyes for a few seconds, the longest she had since she'd been home. Something flickered in her eyes and her breathing had become significantly heavier. She began to look increasingly flustered, pacing back and forth, not knowing what to do with herself.

Bellamy could see that she was starting to reach her breaking point. She looked like she was a bomb, ready to explode at any moment, and he didn't know what to do or say to her to get her to calm down.

A loud clang sounded throughout the room as Clarke kicked over the table that was sitting next to the medical examination table. The untouched plate of food as well as a full cup of water crashed to the ground with the table, spilling everywhere. The water and food got all over Clarke's boots, but she was too entrenched in deep emotion to even notice.

It wasn't long until Clarke moved onto the corner of the room, where bottles of pills and medical supplies were located. With a large medical tool that she had picked up, she started breaking the glass that the supplies were situated behind. Once she got past the glass, she swept her hand across the shelf, letting all of the bottles fall to the floor.

This destruction had gone on for quite some time until Bellamy finally couldn't take it anymore. He knew that she needed to get her feelings out, even if it was in this destructive manner, but at this point he couldn't watch Clarke like this anymore.

"Are you done now?" Bellamy asked, taking a few steps towards her.

Clarke continued to mess the room up, trying to find anything to get her hands on to destroy.

"Clarke?" Bellamy warily stepped towards her and kept his eye on her, afraid of what she might do next.

She stopped for a few seconds until her eyes landed on an open first aid kit. The kit was extremely cluttered, which Clarke made worse when she began to rummage through it, clearly trying to find something.

Her eyes landed on a pair of metal scissors, used for cutting bandages and sutures. Bellamy could see by the way that she picked them up and examined them that this wasn't the item that she was looking for.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bellamy shouted as Clarke feverently grabbed a chunk of her blonde hair and snipped into it.

Bellamy watched as a few inches of hair fell to the ground and it sunk in that Clarke was going off the rails. Somebody needed to stop her before she could do anything stupid. She clearly wasn't in her right mind.

"Clarke, you need to calm down," Bellamy urged, taking a few silent steps towards her.

Clarke threw the scissors down on the ground with a loud clang and began furiously searching the first aid kit once again, blocking Bellamy out of her head.

At first Bellamy was confused, but his heart immediately started racing when he saw Clarke take the plastic wrap off of a razor-sharp, unused scalpel. Her hands were shaking so violently that he could see it from where he was standing, which was at least ten feet away.

"You don't want to do this," Bellamy warned, taking a few more steps forward.

Clarke kept her eyes trained on the blade, inspecting the sleek metal tool, not noticing how close Bellamy had been getting to her.

She began to invert the blade towards herself, not quite sure if or where she would make a cut. Her hand was so unsteady that it wouldn't matter where she would want the blade to land. She wouldn't be able to be accurate with this much shakiness.

Clarke was trying to deal with her emotions by hurting herself.

"I'm not standing by while you destroy yourself. I'm not going to let you." Bellamy said as he grabbed both of Clarke's wrists in his hands and held them firmly in front of her chest. The knife was still in Clarke's hand, which was steadied by Bellamy's firm grip on her wrist. He could feel her violently trembling as he held on.

"Let me help you," Bellamy softly said as he let go of one of Clarke's arms that wasn't holding the scalpel. Slowly moving his free hand, he lightly placed his hand around Clarke's, which was loosely gripping the lethal instrument.

"Do you trust me?" Bellamy asked as he looked deeply into Clarke's eyes, waiting for any type of response.

There were a few seconds of deafening silence before Clarke slightly nodded, returning Bellamy's eye contact as her hands slowly loosened their grip from the blade.

He gently took the blade from her, cautiously removing it from her hands so that it wouldn't accidently cut her. Clarke watched him as he quickly placed the instrument down on one of the destroyed shelves.

When Bellamy turned around, he saw the look of defeat on Clarke's face. Her hair was uneven and a complete mess, her clothes were stained with blood, and her skin was covered in dirt.

Knowing that he needed to comfort her, he slowly approached her and engulfed her in a hug, which she hadn't rejected. In fact, Clarke had welcomed it as she sunk into Bellamy's embrace.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Bellamy remarked after he pulled away.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! These previous chapters were very Bellamy and Clarke heavy, which I love writing. I know that I have briefly included a few characters into the story, but they haven't had any super major roles in the plot. Do you like the story to focus primarily on Bellamy and Clarke or would you guys like it better for me to have other characters play a larger part in the storyline? If you would like to, you can leave your answer as a review, I would love to hear your input!

Finally, I would like to mention that the song that helped me write this chapter was "Please Don't Go" by Joel Adams.