A/N: Here's another chapter. I'd love to know what anyone who reads this thinks. Don't be shy about leaving comments or reviews.

"On me?"

There's something about the way Bellamy is looking at Clarke, an indefinable expression sweeping across his features as he takes a deep breath. It sends a whisper of anticipation fluttering through her chest, a rosy blush flushing to the roots of her hair. She almost doesn't hear him when he answers her.

"Your mother and Kane have plans to relocate the camp."

This is the last thing Clarke expects to hear, anxiety clutching at her as her mother's plans become clear. There is only one place she could be thinking of taking their people. "They can't move us into the mountain. It isn't… It's just..." She's at a loss for words, the muscles in her throat constricting as she struggles to vocalize her objections.

Bellamy's lips are pressed into a thin seam, his own displeasure plainly evident. "I know. I understand their reasoning, but I can't go back there... not yet anyway..." Attie begins to fuss at Bellamy's chest, and his broad hands come up without thinking, tracing comforting circles on the infant's back. Clarke's eyes dart down to the squirming bundle, already quieting under his gentle touch. It's second nature to him, and he barely pauses before continuing. "And I thought you might feel the same way. In fact, most of the kids stuck in the mountain don't want to go back either."

She nods, watching him closely as he fidgets with the sash draped over his shoulder. Clearly his own aversion to returning to the mountain dwelling is something he doesn't like admitting. Instead, he focuses on Clarke. "But your mother… I don't think she'll listen to any of them, or even me."

"Surely we're not the only ones who would rather stay here." Stepping closer to him, she peeks down at the little girl. Big, clear eyes stare back up at her, curly eyelashes framing the golden irises. She's quite a little beauty, and Clarke is somewhat transfixed by her, tracing a chubby little cheek with the tip of her index finger. She's so close that she can feel the vibration of Bellamy's chest when he answers her.

"With winter coming, it hasn't been hard to convince the people around here that we need to find better shelter, but there are a few people who don't like the idea of trading one claustrophobic tin can for another."

"Round them up, and we'll call a meeting."


Clarke maneuvers herself rather clumsily to the front of the crowd, Bellamy standing at her back. He doesn't say it, but she's pretty sure he's positioning himself so that he'll catch her if her leg gives out. The muscles in her arms are throbbing from teetering along on crutches all day, and she's closer than she'd like to admit to slipping down onto the dusty floor and just drifting off to sleep.

But she can't do that. There's a group of murmuring people, adults and kids alike, standing behind her like a rag tag army, just waiting for her to begin. It's amazing to her how often she ends up in this position. After the massacre at the mountain, she'd never dreamed of being the mouthpiece for her people again.

Abby is staring at her, concern pulling down the corners of her mouth, arms folded across her chest in a way that Clarke finds all too familiar. Exasperation simmers just below the surface of her mother's calm exterior. It's strange how the Universe always seems to pit them against each other. It's not something Clarke would ever choose - this antagonism that so frequently colors their exchanges - but here they are again. She waits for her mother to begin.

"You called a meeting with the council; please state your business."

"Do you plan on moving the camp into Mount Weather?"

"Yes. The council has discussed it, and we've decided that it's our best option to weather a harsh winter and other hazards that we're not quite prepared to deal with." Abby makes the statement with the finality of a judge banging her gavel. The tone would brook no argument from the majority of the citizens of the ark, but Clarke simply ignores it, pressing her point.

"I'm sure it's occurred to you, knowing what went on up there, that many of the people who were once held prisoner there do not want to go back." There's a faint rumble of agreement behind Clarke. No one is ignorant of the horrors performed in the mountain, and many of the people at her back are accosted with fraught dreams on a nightly basis.

Abby opens her mouth to gently dissuade Clarke from her argument, but Kane interrupts her. "It's something we discussed, yes, but ultimately it wasn't enough to deter us." He's sick and tired of every one of their decisions being questioned, the expression on his face clearly conveying that sentiment.

Abby lights a hand on his arm, stopping his clipped response. She continues in a calm and measured voice. "There is a top-notch medical facility, climate control, and a water purification system that pumps water from water tables deep under the mountain. It would be stupid of us not to take advantage of this situation. Most of the Grounders have already migrated for the winter, and we aren't prepared to take such action. The mountain is our only option."

"I don't think that's true."

"Try to look at this without emotion, Clarke."

"Can't you have some compassion, some understanding?"

"We don't have the luxury of compassion."

"We're not on the Ark anymore. Decisions don't have to be so black and white. These people have been through so much! How can you expect Harper to go back up there after what they did to her? Or any of the other victims. They locked them in cages!" She sways a little when she says this, her gesticulations throwing her off-balance. Immediately, there's a warm touch at the small of her back - Bellamy's hand steadying her. "All I'm asking is that you give anyone who wants it a chance to live out here on their own."

Abby's hands are on her hips, holding a wide stance as she faces the disgruntled people before her. "You have a month. You need to get the solar panels working again, and have a plan for living quarters for every single person that decides to stay."

Kane steps in front of her. "Abby, this is ridiculous. They're-"

She cuts him off, throwing one hand up to plead for silence. "They're citizens, and they've earned their right to have a say in the way they live." Turning back to her daughter, she finishes. "I expect a housing plan with a list of all the people who intend to stay, and a report from Engineering on the viability of the Ark as a sustainable shelter by the end of the week."

Clarke lets out a sigh of relief, knees nearly buckling beneath her. Until this very moment, she hadn't realized how much going back had truly weighed on her. The exhaustion bowls over her like a herd of wild boars, and it's all she can do to nod in agreement and shuffle out into the hall on her crutches.

She barely even notices when Bellamy steers her to the left, holding her close as she hobbles toward the end of the hall. It's only when she's standing in the entryway of his quarters, one shoulder leaning heavily against the metal doorframe, that she understands where she is.

"This is your compartment." She mumbles the words, eyelids already heavy with the promise of slumber.

It's easy for Bellamy to slip the crutches from beneath her arms and gently coax her to the edge of his cot. "You need to get some rest. Besides, I have work to do, and Attie is with Harper and the other children for the moment. Sleep while you can, Clarke."

His words fall on deaf ears. She's already snoring softly as he tucks a thin pillow beneath her head. He can't stop himself from sweeping golden strands away from her face. He recalls a fairy tale his mother used to recite to Octavia late at night. A story about a cursed princess who falls into a deep slumber, only to be awakened by the kiss of a brave prince. One corner of his mouth twitches up in amusement. Clarke could probably sleep through an earthquake at this point, let alone a stolen kiss.