"What happened in here?" Abby exclaims with an expression of shock.

"Everything is fine," Bellamy quietly murmured. "She just needs to be cleaned up."

Abby began to take a few steps towards the entrance.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"And why is that? She is my daughter, I have a right to see her," Abby worriedly said, determined to see Clarke.

"Look, she needs some time to emotionally process everything. I think she needs some time to be left alone, she doesn't want to face anybody right now."

Abby opens her mouth to protest, but knows that she can't fight Bellamy on this one. She had picked up on the connection between Bellamy and Clarke ever since Clarke had escaped from Mouth Weather. Despite the fact that she was Clarke's mother, she knew that Bellamy had been there for Clarke throughout everything. "Did you change her bandages?"

"Yes."

"Did she get some food in her system?"

"I'm working on it…"

"Ok, make sure you do. She is in a weak condition and she needs to regain her strength."

Bellamy nodded and began to turn back into the room, but Abby reached for his arm and made him face her.

"Bellamy… What happened to her out there?"

Bellamy's head instinctively faced downwards, not wanting to recall the memories. He didn't know if he should be sharing what had happened to Clarke. What if she didn't want anybody to know?

"She… A grounder came and tried to kill her, but she got away," Bellamy lied.

"Why did the grounder want to kill Clarke?" Abby asked.

"I don't know," Bellamy responded, hoping she would stop asking questions.

"Ok, well maybe in a few days Clarke will tell us more and be able to remember more."

"Yeah. Maybe…"

Abby turned to leave but hesitated. "Bellamy… Thank you for taking care of her."

Bellamy nodded with appreciation and turned back into the room.

By this time, Clarke had risen out of her chair and was looking over the mess that she had made.

"Don't worry about that. We can clean it up later."

Clarke turned around, slightly surprised since she hadn't heard Bellamy enter the room. Before she could say anything, he lifted up a chair that had been knocked over by her and set it down.

"Sit," Bellamy gently said as he gestured towards the metal chair.

Clarke obediently sat, but looked as if she had something to say. Bellamy grabbed a bucket of water and placed it on the table next to him, which was situated near the chair that Clarke was sitting in.

Now facing Clarke, he kneeled down to her level and examined her face. It was covered in blood and dirt; her face was barely recognizable.

Dipping a rag into the bucket of water, he slowly inched his hand towards her face and swiped the grime that covered her left cheek. His face carried a concentrated expression as he conducted his hand to be as delicate and gentle as possible on her face.

"Why are you doing this?" Clarke curiously asked in a hushed tone, breaking the ominous silence that had accompanied them. Her tone had changed from before. Instead of it being bitter and resentful, it was lighter, expressing a hint of gratitude.

"You've been through a lot." Bellamy said, continuing to clean her face. But he knew that was only a small part of it; he knew the real reason. He was just too afraid to admit it.

Bellamy could hear Clarke's slight breathing as she stared into his deep brown eyes, which he had only known that she had been doing when he briefly looked into hers while he was cleaning her face.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Ok, it's done."

Standing up, he surveyed her one last time and noticed her dragging her hands through her hair, trying to force the tangles out.

"Let me help with that," Bellamy said, pulling up a chair and positioned it behind her.

Clarke looked back at him and furrowed her eyebrows, confused at the way he was acting. This was not normal Bellamy Blake behavior.

"Shit," Bellamy muttered as he just had noticed the large chunk of uneven hair, which lay considerably shorter on Clarke's left cheek.

"What? Is my hair that bad?" Clarke feigned surprise and let out a slight laugh. To be honest, she didn't really care about what her hair looked like, even though she had sort of regretted taking scissors to it during her mental breakdown.

"Princess, you don't even know," Bellamy said humorously, gently working his fingers through the blonde tangles.

Clarke was so surprised when he used that nickname since it had been so long since he had used it. This seemed like one of the most normal conversations Clarke has had since everything had happened. And Clarke needed things to be back to normal. But she knew in the back of her head that nothing would ever be back to normal after what everyone has been through. What even was normal to her anymore? Just about two months ago, she was miles up in space, locked in confinement and coming to terms with the fact that she was going to die on her eighteenth birthday.

Clarke leaned forward abruptly, which caught Bellamy by surprise, and reached for the med kit scissors that still were laying on the ground.

Without saying anything, she handed him the scissors which he hesitantly took. His eyes swept over her disheveled blonde hair and lingered at the ends.

"You want me to fix it?"

Clarke nodded.

"Alright, well… I don't know how good I'll be. I've cut Octavia's hair a few times but it's been awhile. Are you sure?"

"Nothing you could do would mess it up any further than I already have. I trust you."

Trust. She trusts me.

Bellamy made sure to only take the bare minimum amount off of her hair in order to fix the unevenness. He made quick work of it, starting on the left side. Every time he changed directions, he moved the chair he was sitting in so he could get a better angle. Clarke could feel a blush creeping on as Bellamy fingers accidentally brushed the back of her neck.

It was actually quite nice, to be focused on something that didn't involved the constant task of trying to stay alive. Realization sunk in when Bellamy recognized that this was one of the very few times where he and Clarke were interacting when it wasn't a life or death situation. But so much had happened that even that fact alone couldn't make him feel better, especially after all they had been through when the dropship landed.

By the time he was finished, her hair was situated at her collarbone, a few inches shorter than it had previously been. Clarke didn't know if Bellamy had done a good job or not because she didn't have a mirror, but she trusted him.

"I'll be right back," Bellamy said as he noticed Clarke was still wearing the blood soaked shirt.

When he was gone, Clarke took the opportunity to run her hands through her new hair, which felt much better than it had before. She felt liberated.

"Here, take these." Bellamy threw a simple grey shirt and some black pants at her. "I'll step out. You should get out of those clothes."

Bellamy turned to leave but was stopped by Clarke's voice.

"Bellamy, wait," Clarke weakly spoke. "I just wanted to thank you… For everything."

"No problem, princess."

Author's Note: Wow, it has been a while since I've written, which I am extremely sorry for. Now that season three has ended, I need a way to get through the hiatus and also I forgot how much I enjoy writing this story. Next chapter, Bellamy and Clarke are going to discuss their feelings about what they had to do at Mount Weather and she will finally have some interaction with her mother.

I also want to mention that more characters are going to make an appearance down the line, just to name two, Lexa and Octavia.

Any suggestions are gladly welcomed :)