*This is the last of the Devil's Backbone universe. Let me know what you thought of it and if you'd like to hear more from this AU. Thank you so much for the reviews and continuing support!**

For two days, they lay in bed, barely moving around the room. When his people came in to check on him, he would move to the chair and they would speak in quiet murmurs while Clarke read some books they brought to her. She taught him how to check his own wounds, talking to him while she did it and telling him exactly how she got the bullet fragments out, exactly how she stitched him up. He asked her questions about everything medical, everything about Phoenix. He asked her every question he could think of, and, in return, she asked questions about the Devil's Backbone. On the third day of her captivity, she lay in bed, fully rested with Bellamy staring down at her, twirling one strand of hair between his fingers. Her book was open but she was paying more attention to the way his breath washed over her every time he exhaled.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked suddenly, making her eyes snap away from her book and up at him.

"What?"

"Can I kiss you? I figure I should ask permission so you don't hit me," he answered logically.

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored and by tomorrow I'll be outside of that door, and you'll be gone. And Anya's kissed you, so I think that if you want to stay on the good side of one of the top gangs in the Devil's Backbone, you should kiss me too," Bellamy said definitively.

"I haven't brushed my teeth in three days," Clarke replied simply.

"Well then go brush your teeth. My toothbrush is on the sink in the bathroom. I'll wait."

"You have toothbrushes here?" Clarke demanded, her eyes suddenly alive with fire. "Real ones? Not rigged ones?"

"Of course I fucking do. You don't?"

"No. I don't have anything," she said slowly, like he was an idiot. "I told you. When I cut my connection with Phoenix, I lost everything. I can send threats to get them to do my lab work, but they don't send me money, food, or anything anymore. I'm out here by myself."

"No more of that. Go brush your teeth," he ordered. "Then come back here so I can kiss you."

She clambered over him on the bed and went to the bathroom. Despite constantly having to climb over him to get anything done, she still slept by the wall and he still slept on the outside of the bed, so he could communicate first whenever anybody came in, but, when it was time to sleep, he curled around her, careful of his side, but burying his face in her hair. Clarke was used to those things. The people in the Devil's Backbone needed comfort and she was often the one providing it. Whether it was medicine, or a soft touch. She even found some minty stuff in the bathroom that she used to brush her teeth before she joined him again, climbing over him so she could lay on her back and stare up at him.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"I feel cleaner," she answered pragmatically. "Bellamy, why do you want to kiss me?"

"Because you're gorgeous," he replied. "And you didn't kill me."

"Those aren't good reasons to kiss somebody," she informed him.

"At least I'm not trying to go down on you," he taunted in return and, when she laughed, he leaned forward to press his lips to the corner of her mouth so she would still the laugh. Her mouth closed and her blue eyes focused on his brown ones, waiting patiently until his lips slanted over hers and her eyes closed.

He pressed his lips to hers and waited patiently, staring down at her before he let his mouth move, softly against hers, and she moved too. He flicked his tongue out against her lips and she parted them, letting him explore her mouth. Her hands rose to tangle in his dark curls and his hand rested on her hip, his fingers tightening around the jutting bone beneath the silky skin. He kissed her soundly, leaving her breathless and panting, her skin flushed. He pulled away to press light kisses across her jaw and then back up to her lips before he pulled away.

"When you're not here because my people kidnapped you, and when there isn't a hole in my side, we're going to do that again," he informed her solemnly.

"Whatever you say, Bellamy Blake. I doubt you're lacking in female comfort."

"Lacking? No. But there's definitely a space in my bed for blonde doctors who aren't afraid to shout at one of the most feared men in the Devil's Backbone."

"And who says that fearless blonde doctors want to be in your bed?"

"If you don't agree, I'll just kidnap you again until you do agree."

"Brute," she accused.

"I'm the leader of a gang, princess. Of course I'm a brute. Go back to reading your book. You can't take it with you when you go."

The next day, she followed Bellamy downstairs. He walked with his back straight and his head high, pretending that he didn't feel any pain at all from the still tender wound. His people greeted him with wine and shouting, and he let them celebrate before he nodded at Monroe and Octavia to take Clarke away. They led her back upstairs to the bathroom and presented her with a bathtub full of steaming water. Octavia said, "It's our way of saying thank you. Bell said you don't have hot water or electricity in your place."

They left her alone to wash the blood and grime off her body that days using the sink hadn't been able to do. Even her hair was clean by the time the water ran cold and she let the grayish liquid slide down the drain. Monroe returned with a towel and clean clothes. She informed her, "Bellamy said you needed new pants and stuff. Your old ones were ripped. We're going to repair them and give them to one of our girls."

She redressed herself in the fresh clothes and her jacket, braiding her hair down her back. Bellamy was still in the living room with his people when she rejoined them and he looped his arm around her shoulders and drew her in tight. He announced, "Everybody, listen up!"

Any eyes that hadn't been on him before were focused on him then. "Clarke Griffin, the princess, has our complete protection. Anywhere she goes, she is protected by the 100. Spread the word. Let everybody know that if the princess needs anything, they help her. And if they need patched up, go to her only. No more back alley med care. And no ripping her off. She's neutral territory. She's allowed to treat anybody, talk to anybody, and be with anybody on the streets, without retribution. The only time we step in is if she needs something. Got it?"

Agreement spread through the crowd and Bellamy grinned down at her, the smile luminescent before he ordered, "Miller, take her back to the clinic. And don't put a damn bag over her head this time. We have blindfolds for fuck's sake."

And, before she knew it, she was blindfolded, tied, and being carried out to a bike. Miller removed the blindfold at her clinic, thanked her again, and disappeared. Inside the clinic, Harper, Lexa, Jasper, and Monty were busy at work. Monty looked up and called out, "Enjoy your vacation?"

"It was a breath of fresh air, as always." Clarke shrugged out of her jacket and asked, "What are we working on today?"

It had been two weeks since her last vacation, even though one of Anya's girls arrived with a gash in her neck that came from the Reapers, a smaller gang that everybody was sure got their money from the Mountain Men, in the Mount Weather circle of the city, the circle right before the Devil's Backbone. Two days after she'd made it back to the clinic, she found a box of fresh clothes and a toothbrush sitting outside of the clinic with her name on it. A week later, the electricity grid to her apartment across town was magically repaired and she had the ability to take lukewarm showers once a week. Her clinic hadn't been broken into, and there were rumors floating around about Bellamy Blake extending a formal invitation to Anya of the Grounders to have peace talks and a discussion about taking care of the Reapers.

"Hey there, princess." Clarke looked up into the shadows across the street and found Bellamy Blake lounging against the wall, his dark curls bouncing around his face and his body wrapped in denim and leather. He was twirling a black blindfold around in his fingers and the grin on his face was mischievous, half-cocked, and lighting up the night. "How are you feeling about a vacation?"

"You know I'm never going to get any work done in this clinic, right?" she said, half-bitterly.

Bellamy just shrugged and pushed up off the wall to swagger over to her. He waited until he was standing right in front of her, his breath ghosting over her face, before he replied, "Yeah, but how often do you get invited to dinner by the leader of the 100?"

"Oh, this is what you call a dinner invitation, huh? Do you always blindfold your girls before you take them on dates?"

"Don't know. Never taken a girl on a date before. Maybe I can start a tradition. Turn around."

She obeyed so he could slip the bandana over her head, but she warned, "If I'm not back in two days, I'm going to put a hole in your side myself, Bellamy Blake."

"If you still want to return after two days with me, I'll put a hole in myself," he replied. "I plan to keep you very busy."

"Arrogant ass," she accused.

He just laughed and spun her back around to lift her over his shoulder. The Devil's Backbone was the worst place in the world after the nuclear fallout, but, with the princess and the rebel king there, things were improving one day at a time. Starting with Bellamy Blake taking the princess back to bed.