A/N: Welp, this was suppose to be three chapters but after that kickass premire, I got inspired to continue this, so enjoy. This is still based off my version but it will mix a bit with the show as it aires. This might get a little confusing, but bare with me.

"They are in Unit B of the facility, moving on maintance stairs T to Unit A. It is only a matter of time until they reach the surface." A man dressed in a navy and black guards uniform spoke clearly, his years trained in the bases military sector shown clear as day to a psychiatric doctor.

"Can we get Johnsons unit over to intercept at Unit A?" Dr. Simons asked, his eyes watching the monitors layed out before him.

"Unlikely, but if we get a unit suited up, we could intercept them outside."

"Do it, just the small group, let the others go. That's a direct order."

"Yes, sir." the guard saluted, then turned sharply to send out the message; suit up, theres a war ahead.

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Clarkes legs ached at the strain of running up the stairs. There had to be hundreds of them. Even Bellamy was getting tired, but he didn't stop. Finn and Monty were in the back, Jasper still leading the pack to the surface, and to home.

"Bellamy," Clarke panted, catching up to him.

"What?" He returned, his voice controlled.

"Thank you."

"For what?" His voice lost some of it's tight control, letting suprise slip through.

"For not dying back there, at the camp."

"No problem, Princess."

"And for getting me out of here." He turned to look at her now, but still didn't stop,

"I couldn't do this without you." She wanted to kiss him, right there. Her realistic dreams haunted her. Then the dream of his death, Clarke felt like she was going crazy. And perhaps she was.

It was the white walls that were getting to her.

"What's with you and Finn?" He asked, not looking at her.

"What's with you and Raven?" She returned, suprised to see him flinch. She had seen a quick look shared between them once, but why did she see guilt in his eyes?

"We're almost there, guys!" Jasper yelled, Bellamy sped up past Clarke before either of them could answer. Clarke felt her heart crack. So...he didn't like her. Not like that. Oh.

They reached the top of the steps, turning right to the large, heavy steel door to the green beyond it's dull walls. The sounds of guns stopped the groups dead in it's tracks.

"Hands up!" A man yelled, "On your knees!"

Clarke felt her stomach drop. There was easily thirty guards, each with a wicked looking assult rifle. All pointed at them.

"Hands up!" They screamed at them.

They obeyed bitterly, dropping to the ground.

"Clarke Griffin. Leader of the Sky people, we are formally placing you under arrest for crimes against the United States goverment-"

"Shove it," Clarke hissed, "No one gives a single fuck." She glanced up at the commander whose mouth hung open, she could see a smile cross Bellamy's face next to her.

"I see your manners havent improved." A new voice added, Dr. Simons walked out from behind a Guard, except for his limp, he looked as if nothing had ever happened to him.
"Commander, take Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin to the special unit, the others can go to the block, we will take care of them later." He mused.

"Yes, sir." The older man said, yanking Clarkes hands painfully behind her back. She could kick out his knee...and be shot into swiss cheese.

Panicked, she glanced at Bellamy who was looking like a caged animal.

"No, Bellamy, it's not worth it!" She hissed. She couldn't loose him now. She didn't notice the guard standing behind Bellamy, not until he struck him in the back of the head with the end of his gun. She had little time to panic before she met the same fate, blacking out to the sound of Finns screaming voice.

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Clarke woke in the dark, alone and cold. A hard surface jabbed itself in her back. Her joints ached at her movement.

"Bellamy?" She whispered, "Bell?" No answer. She was alone.

"Clarke." It was the Dr. Simons voice who answered, flicking on a bright light. The room was too bright to focus in on, but she could make out too dark shapes, one tall, one short.

"What do you want?"

"We want you, Clarke." He answered simply.

"What did you do to my mother?" She spat angrily at him.

"We disposed of the escaping Sky Peoples." His indifference was alarming.
"Why do you want me!?" She screamed, yanking at her restraints.

"We want your genes. Your blood is filled with agents that digest radiation. It's a perfect cure for our kind."

"'Our kind'? We are all the same kind!" She screamed.

"We are not the same. You are not the same as we are, or the reapers, or those bloody Grounders. We are higher beings, you and I, Clarke, you'll see."

Clarke felt bile rise in her throat, her heart leaped painfully against her ribcage. The white room was coming into focus. She could see Dr. Simions in his Blue suit standing next to a white steel chair, with a bloodied man, the details were still fuzzy.

"We are not the same." She managed, her voice was thin.

"We will be." He whispered, "You'll see."

Now she could see the details.

The man in the chair was Bellamy. His throat was cut, blood ran down his shirt, his jacket, dripping off his lap onto the white ground under his feet. Clarke screamed..

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Clarke woke screaming, panicking when a hand shot out in the darkness, cutting off her sound. She was going to die, but she was going to go down fighting.

"Princess," Bellamy's strained voice filled the darkness, "Hey, it's me, I'm here." Instantly, Clarke stopped, sobbing into Bellamy's jacket.

"Bell, you were dead, in my dream, you were dead!" She cried. She had been so close, she felt the wind on her face, the sun, the fresh air. Everything was ripped away from her again.

"It takes more than a back of a gun to knock me out that coldly, there, Princess." He joked in the dark, not letting go of her. One had released her mouth and was now resting on the base of her throat, the other hand had her arm in a death grip, as if she could be pulled away from him at any moment.

"What are we going to do?" Clarke asked in the darkness, wishing she could see her surroundings, or at least, Bellamy's face.

"Don't laugh," He warned, "We are in a four by five metal wall cell, but I couldn't find the door."

"Why would I laugh at that?" Clarke wanted to push her hands in the blackness to find him, but was worried she'd do something stupid, like poke him in the eye...

"Well, I ran into all the walls to find them, then I tripped, finding the corner of the room, then you started screaming."

Clarke couldn't help it, she started to laugh. The image of Bellamy walking blindly into a wall held to much humor to be missed. She heard him grunt in minor annoyance.

"Thanks, Princess." He said, sarcasm dripping off his tone.

"Bell," she gasped, her ribcage hurting from the laughter and the abuse, his grip tightened on her protectively. This was something straight out of her dreams. She wanted him, despite everything, he was her other person, her other half.

But he didn't want her, did he?

"What happened between you and Raven?" She asked, his grip faded so fast, she thought he wasn't actually there.

"Does it matter?" He spat, his tone was dark, laced with guilt.

"Why do I get the feeling it does?"

"Whats with you and Finn, huh, Princess? He obviously left Raven for you. You two a thing now?" His tone was growing darker, his presence next to her was fading, he was pulling himself away in the blackness.

"Bellamy," Clarke hissed, reaching out for him, cold air swept past her fingertips, panic was rising in her chest, "Bellamy, please, get back here, please," Was she begging? Begging to Bellamy for Bellamy?

Yes, she was.

"Please, don't leave me, please," Her arms were flinging wildly into the darkness, was she alone this entire time? Was her previous dream actual reality? "Bell-" Clarke nearly sobbed with panic, curling herself into a ball, then heard his low voice, it was close to her ear,

"I'm here, Princess, I won't leave you." His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her against him. She latched on, afraid he'd decide to leave again.

"Finn and I thought we were something," she started, her mouth brushing against skin, "But I found the difference between loving someone and being in love, and I'm not in love with Finn."

Bellamy was quiet, but still held her, almost rocking her.

"They're going to kill us." She whispered.

"Yeah, I know." Bellamy whispered into her hair.