CPOV

How could that have happened?! I thought they'd be careful after what happened to Lincoln and me! Our captors put Bellamy in the cell next to mine, which meant I couldn't see him. I looked at Lexa, and without me having to talk, she understood.

"He's okay," She said. "No blood. His face isn't even bruised". I let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against the wall. I saw Lincoln being terrified when a second man walked in, and desperately thankful when Octavia wasn't being carried in. "I'll tell you when he wakes up," she said. Again, I didn't need to talk for her to understand what I needed.

Apparently though, I didn't really need her to. A couple minutes later, I heard him move around and knew he woke up. I was about to call him when I heard him crashing against the metal bars.

"Is Clarke here?!" He asked, frantic with worry. Lincoln smiled and nodded to my cell. I heard Bellamy move towards my cell. "Clarke, are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, and moved towards his cell. I heard him sit back down and sigh, much like I did a couple minute before. I sat with my back to the joined wall, and so did he.

"I am so fucking mad at you Clarke," He said. But it wasn't anger I heard in his voice. It was sadness and disappointment. The tiny hope that I held before disappeared, and I was left with only guilt and regret.

"I already apologized, Bellamy. There's nothing else I can say."

"What?" He asked, sounding confused. "No, I'm not talking about my mom. That happened a long time ago and you've changed since then. No, I'm talking about Matt. You put yourself through all that crap just so that I won't be mad? Are you fucking kidding me?! I would've been mad and I would've gotten over it. I would never have abandoned you or hated you, don't you get that?"

I was shocked. That was not what I expected. I really had underestimated him. And so did Octavia. But still, I felt the need to justify my actions. "I hurt Octavia, and we both know how you react when someone does that! She's the most important person in world to you."

His voice was calm when he spoke next. "So are you."

I was speechless. That wasn't an admission of love per se, but just the possibility of him loving me in the same way that I did him made warmth fill every part of me, and made me happier than I'd been in such a long time. Even in my miserable situation. I was elated, and the tips of my fingers tingled with excitement. That showed me not only that I actually did love him, but just how deep that love went. I sent my hand out back through the bars, towards him. He did the same thing, and held my hand in that weird position, and I felt all the stress he'd been feeling all that time dissolve into comfort. He held on it like it was the only thing keeping us together. As if the moment he let go I'd disappear.

"These past two weeks have been the worst of my life, Clarke. I was so worried about you."

"I'm okay," I said and squeezed his hand. "I'm fine."

"I tried everything I could but nothing worked. I just had to find you. I had to make sure you were safe."

At first I didn't fully understand him. I could only imagine what he'd been feeling lately, but the way he said it had seemed so weird. Almost as if he were apologizing, afraid that I'd be angry. But what could I possibly be angry about? Then it clicked.

"Bellamy," I said, using every ounce of self control I had not to scream at him. It was audible in my voice. "Did you get here on purpose?"

"They were going to give up on you Clarke! I had to!" I tried to pull my hand away, deeply outraged. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. But he stopped me. "I had to, Clarke. But I have a plan. I just need you to trust me." I let my hand rest in his, trying to comprehend this absurd situation. He got himself kidnapped to save me. Didn't he understand that more than I wanted to get out, I wanted him to be safe?

"I do." I said. "And I'm very mad at you too, for this. There's gonna be hell to pay when we get back to camp. You can be sure of that."

"You can be as mad at me as you want once we're both safe." He interlocked his fingers with mine, and I welcomed it. "I wish I could see you right now."

"I'm smiling," I said, only to find out it was actually true.

"Clarke, I..-" He was interrupted by the sound of the door bursting open. The doctor came in. She didn't talk, and we didn't need to hear anything. Time for the treatment. Only this time, instead of taking me, she took Bellamy. He, understanding the situation, took it bravely, and didn't object. He knew that they were stronger, so there was no point in fighting. I suspected he also knew that if they didn't take him, they'd take me. So he complied silently, and stood in front of her, behind the bars of his cell.

But I wouldn't comply silently. "That's not smart, you know." I said, in the most calm, in-control voice I could. I tried very hard to hide my distress, knowing that I had to seem nonchalant to convince her. "You already know that your people respond well to my bone marrow. If you take his, you risk the chance that their bodies will reject it." True, my mom taught me some things about medicine, but I didn't know nearly enough to say something like that with certainty. My gut said it was true, and I really hoped for it to be.

"I'll take the chance," she said, and entered Bellamy's cell. They put a sack over his head, and led him away.

"You're risking your people's lives! They could die!" That was probably not true. But I tried. I watched them leave and scolded myself for not coming up with better idea. But there was nothing to be done about it then. I sat back down, and looked at Lexa and Lincoln. Just like before, both of them understood completely what I must be feeling.

"He's strong," Lincoln said. "He can take it. He'd probably be happy to do this if it meant you wouldn't have to." Lexa didn't say anything, but her expression showed empathy and support. Once again, they comforted me and I just tried to think of a way to pass the time until Bellamy was back.

BPOV

It hurt so bad. I limped back to my cell with a sack over my head, and every step resulted in pain shooting from my knee through my whole body. They brought me back to my cell, took the sack off, locked it, and left without a word.

"God, Clarke. Is this what you've been going through this whole time?"

"No." She said, and I didn't know whether I should be relieved or worried. "They only did it once." The look on Lincoln's face told me she was lying, but I let her. If she felt ashamed of what happened to her, I didn't want to push it. She'd tell me when she's ready. Still, I was so mad at myself for not coming to get her sooner. It was hard for me to take it one time, and she'd been through it.. God knows how many. I felt like a failure. I was supposed to protect her, and I couldn't. She'd been suffering for two weeks while I've been failing to find her. I swore to myself that that would never happen again. I'd keep her safe. I had to.

Clarke shifted my attention out of my own head and into the real world. "How's the pain?"

"It's fine." As bad as that was, Indra's blade was worse.

"Don't put any pressure on it. And don't cover it," she said, trying to relieve my pain.

"Don't worry, princess. Everything will be alright."

"We need to find a nickname for you too," She said, and I was glad she was well enough to joke around. Humor was always a good sign.

"What did you have in mind?"

The conversation was stopped by a deafening sound of an explosion. We looked around, trying to understand what was going on. Then, an alarm went off, getting all of us to jump to our feet. It said "Air breach. Top floor is compromised. All residents must go to level 5," over and over again. Finally. I wondered what took them so long. They probably tried to open the door themselves, failed, and brought a bomb. Whatever the reason for their delay, at last, they came to our rescue. The guards started to evacuate. I grabbed one of them and choked him against the bars. "The keys." He just handed them to me, and I let him go. He ran off, probably scared to die from contamination. I opened my cell, and then went over to Clarke's.

What I saw before me was horrifying. She sat on the floor, all covered in dried blood. Her eyes were barely open, and I saw all the countless places from which they took bone marrow. She looked broken. She tried to get up, but couldn't. I opened her cell, tossed the keys over to Lincoln's and ran over to help her. Ignoring the protests from my body, I kneeled beside her. I softly ran my fingers along her cheek which, like every other part of her body, was covered with blood. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. That looked more horrible and painful than anything I could've imagined. And it was happening to Clarke. I felt the pain of a thousand knifes stab each and every part of me, and it wasn't half of what I deserved. "I'm so, so sorry." I said the words, and meant them, but it was useless. My apology wasn't going to help her. And no words could've expressed the regret and guilt that I felt.

I put my arms under her knees and her back, to try and carry her, since she obviously couldn't walk, but she stopped me. "Your knee," She said. With no wall between us, I noticed things that I couldn't understand how I could've missed before. Her voice was shallow and weak. Every word she said took seemed to take endless effort. Every movement seemed to hurt. Every breath seemed painful. I looked at her miserably, knowing there's nothing I could do to ease her pain. Nothing but getting her out of there. Her eyes showed exhaustion and pain. Seeing her like that, it was too much to bare. Lincoln came, and I let him carry her himself.

Someone offered to let me lean on her, and I accepted. She was the woman in the cell next to Lincoln's. I had no reason to trust her, but the fact that we were all on the same boat, and wanted to get out of there. By that time everyone else was out of their cells and ready to bolt. No one knew exactly where we were going, but we knew our destination was up. To the ground. We followed the sounds of guns and smell of fresh air. Finally, we got to where our rescuers had just fought some of the enemy's guards. I had to admit, what they saw was a strong picture. Lincoln, a respected, trusted member of the grounder leadership (or so it seemed by his arrangement with Octavia and Clarke) carrying the leader of, how they liked to call us, the sky people. Peace seemed to be closer than ever. Nothing can bring people together like a common enemy.

When Octavia saw me, she ran towards me and hugged me so tight I thought I might explode. I returned the gesture while slowly moving to lean on her instead of the grounder who, now that she wasn't needed anymore, left. Two guardsmen took Octavia's place as more friends of mine came to my side. Lincoln put Clarke down and her mom ran to her, trying to assess the damage and see what the best course of action would be. She told another guardsman to carry her back to camp, all the while holding her hand.

Meanwhile, Lincoln walked over to the queen and hugged her. She kissed the top of his head and said "Welcome back, son." That was a shock. I knew Lincoln was very high up, but I didn't know he was a prince. He moved aside, revealing to his mother the grounder who helped me. Lyanna gasped and put her hand over her mouth, and then ran to that woman and hugged her. They both started sobbing, and Lincoln backed away to give them some space. I wondered how long that grounder was trapped in that awful place. That grounder who was a princess, apparently.

After making sure I was okay, Octavia ran to Lincoln, and he lifted her up and hugged her, and her feet were too far from the ground for her own good. She kissed him so passionately that I had to look away. She was my sister for god's sake. He put her down and put his arm over her shoulder, and she wrapped hers around his waist. Lyanna was not happy about that.

We all left, us to Arkadia, and the grounders to their home. It was hard for Octavia to be separated from Lincoln once again, but she realized it was for the best, and that she'd see him the next day. As soon as we got there they started questioning me and treating Clarke. We finished quickly and I went to the infirmary, which was much better equipped than the makeshift one we had back in camp. I let Abby do her job, and just stayed by Clarke's side, waiting for her to open her eyes. The thought that that might not happen never even crossed my mind.