[our souls are made from stardust]
[1]
It was strange how much Bellamy hated this—arguing with Clarke. It wasn't as easy as it used to be. Now, there was mutual respect and a friendship that was still new and hesitant, but of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to speak up when he disagreed with her, and it would never stop Clarke from calling him an ass and telling him that he needed to get his shit together.
"I said no, Bellamy," Clarke said. She had her back to him, as if she was trying to ignore him, but Bellamy knew better. Her shoulders were hunched and her spine was ramrod straight; she was listening to every move he made.
"Yeah, well, remember the part where you're not in charge of me?" Bellamy shot back. "That still applies."
"Okay." Clarke was struggling to keep her voice even and calm, but Bellamy could hear the frustration layered in her words. He knew it was more than just the fact that he was disobeying her commands. She had more going on, more brewing under the surface of her skin, that she wasn't sharing with anyone.
"Clarke?" Bellamy asked when she didn't say anything for a long beat. He reached out and touched a hand to her shoulder. She twitched and turned to face him, eyes bright.
For a moment, Bellamy thought she was trying to hide tears, but then he saw the way her mouth was pressed into a thin line and her hands that were clenched into white fists down at her sides, and he knew she wasn't upset, she was furious.
He didn't doubt that she could, and would, hit him on the jaw if he kept arguing with her, if he pushed her too hard.
So naturally, he kept going.
"We don't know what the surviving Mountain Men are going to do. All we know is that they're out there, watching us from their bunker—the bunker that we left in ruins."
"I know."
"We've got Grounders somewhere out there," Bellamy kept going. "And Lexa too."
Clarke flinched, so minutely that it could have been imagined, but Bellamy saw.
"We can't afford to be sitting on our hands, waiting for them to make a move against us."
"I know, Bellamy," Clarke snapped, her cool finally breaking.
Bellamy felt a flare of satisfaction in his chest, but guilt quickly chased it away. He didn't want to make Clarke angry or upset or whatever it was that she felt when she thought about Lexa's betrayal. It was just that since they had all come down the mountain, with the bitter taste of their victory in their mouths, Clarke had gone quiet. She didn't argue with anyone but him anymore, and she barely talked to anyone. She wasn't herself, and Bellamy hated it.
A part of him knew that maybe it was because he wanted to go quiet like she had, to shut out the voices of the Mountain Men that he had helped kill. A part of him was screaming that it wasn't fair that Clarke got to retreat in on herself, and he didn't.
They were supposed to work through this. The two of them. Together.
"Bellamy?" Clarke's voice had softened, and Bellamy realized that he had stopped yelling at her and had been standing there, just staring at her.
He blinked, focused, and caught her eye. Blue and sharp. There was a knowing look glinting in them; she knew what he was thinking. She might be the only one who knew. His heart clenched, but he wasn't sure why.
"Fine," Clarke said. "Go. Pick your group and go." She jerked her chin towards the forest that surrounded their gated community.
He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Princess, but like I said, I don't need your permission. This whole thing here," he waved a hand between the two of them, "was just a courtesy."
Clarke stared at him, eyes narrowing, but then she snorted and ducked her head, trying to hide her smile, and just like that the tension broke.
And Bellamy felt like he could breathe again.
.
.
Clarke could feel her mother's eyes on her. She could feel the worry, the fear, and the anger that was coming from Abby in waves. It had been like this since she had come down from the mountain with Bellamy and the others. Sometimes, Clarke wished that she hadn't stayed in Arkadia, that she had left after making sure her people were safe.
But when she had turned to Bellamy, lips opening to tell him that she was leaving, that he was in charge now, the words had died in her mouth.
His dark eyes were pinned on her, chasms into his soul, mirroring her own silent and miserable thoughts back to her. He didn't want her to go, not after everything, and Clarke suddenly didn't want to leave him. So she had stayed.
But now, only two months since Mt. Weather, Clarke wished that she had listened to her instincts and had gone, deep into the forest, to lose herself and try to wash away the guilt and blood from the mountain.
Our actions, Bellamy would say in his deep and gravelly voice. You weren't alone, Clarke.
But she felt like she was. It wasn't fair to Bellamy and Monty, who were hurting just as much as she was, but Clarke still felt the weight of her actions, the way the lever felt in her hand as she pulled it and killed everyone in Mt. Weather.
She had stayed for Bellamy, but now she almost wished that she hadn't. She wished that she had been selfish and had run away.
"Clarke." Abby's voice rang out through the small clearing.
Clarke didn't turn, pretended she couldn't hear her mother, and started to walk away from the garden patch she had been overseeing, but she wasn't really necessary; Lincoln and Octavia were there, making sure that the Arkadians weren't planting anything dangerous.
"Clarke." Abby was following her now, but Clarke didn't slow her quick pace. She kept moving down the fence line, nodding and giving smiles of encouragement to her people, the last of the 100.
A knot twisted in her stomach. She should have acted sooner—more of them would be alive if she had.
Bellamy would tell her to stop thinking like that, but she never voiced her thoughts aloud to him, and she secretly knew that he thought the same. He had regrets about his own actions, and how he didn't save the kids that had unofficially elected him their leader when they had landed on Earth. But they didn't talk about that.
A hand wrapped around her arm, and Clarke didn't even think before she twisted around, jerking out of the grip and throwing a quick jab at the offending person's throat.
Clarke's eyes widened and she pulled her punch at the last second, a hairsbreadth away from hitting Abby in the throat.
"Oh," Clarke managed, taking a few quick steps back, creating some distance between herself and her mother.
Abby's chest was rising and falling rapidly, but that was the only sign of her distress. She raised her hands and gave Clarke a piercing look. "Oh?" she said.
"Oh," Clarke repeated, annoyance rising. She had only reacted the way that any of them would have. They had survived on the ground for this long for a reason.
Abby hummed, a frown on her face, but let it slid. She crossed her arms over her chest, and Clarke knew that she was preparing to give a long lecture. "You've been dodging me all day. I want to talk to you, Clarke."
"Sorry," Clarke said. She didn't mean it and they both knew it. "I've been busy." That much was true. Despite not being at war with anyone currently, the 100 still looked to her for guidance in this shaky peace.
"You look worn out," Abby said, eyes raking over her. "You should take a break. Let someone else be in charge for a while."
Clarke frowned. "I'm not in charge. You're the chancellor, Mom."
Abby's eyebrows rose. "What happened to: You may be the chancellor, but I'm in charge?"
Clarke offered her a shrug; that was still true as far as all of the 100 were concerned. The adults didn't truly know what it was like on the ground; they hadn't been the ones plunged head first into a war they knew nothing about. But, not one of the newcomers to Earth, including Abby, would ever accept Clarke or Bellamy as leaders of the surviving Sky People.
The adults still thought of them as children, and Clarke didn't think there was much else she could do to convince them otherwise. It bothered her, that she had fought and bled for all of them, and they didn't seem to notice or care. They gave her looks when she walked by, pitying looks, that generally meant they thought she should go inside the ruins of the Arc and help her mother in the medical center.
She knew that Bellamy was less inclined to do sit back and take the looks and comments of them being children, too young to make decisions. He had been thrown into the brig more than once in the last two months for picking fights with the Arkadians who had come down after the 100. Abby was going easy on him, only giving him a few days in the brig to cool off. If they had still been in space the punishment would've been harsher; Bellamy probably would have been floated by now.
That thought sent a shiver down Clarke's spine, so she pushed it aside.
"I want you to take a break," Abby continued, and Clarke focused on her mother again. "You're going to make yourself sick if you keep going at this rate."
"There's no one else—" Clarke started to protest, but Abby cut her off.
"That's not true. You're not irreplaceable, Clarke. There are other, capable people here that can step up and take some of your load off. You need to rest."
Clarke bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the hot sting of her teeth cutting into the soft skin. The insistent voices that had started after Mt. Weather started whispering again: she wasn't good for anything now that there was peace.
"Mom, please," Clarke tried again, but Abby was shaking her head.
"That wasn't a suggestion from your mother. It's an order from your Chancellor."
Clarke was mildly offended, and she didn't hide the frown that slipped onto her face. It didn't seem to bother Abby, who stared at Clarke until she nodded. "Fine."
Abby nodded back and Clarke could see the flicker of relief flash across her face; she had been expecting a fight. Clarke hid a wince; she didn't mean to be difficult, she just wasn't going to act like the same kid Abby remembered. She couldn't be.
She turned on her heel without another word, leaving Abby behind, mouth pressed into a thin line.
Inside, the Arc was cool and she shivered, tugging at her jacket. Her boots made soft sounds as she walked down the corridors, passing unfamiliar faces. It was strange that she didn't know every single person she was interacting with now. Before, in space, Clarke never really saw the poorer parts of the Arc, but generally knew most everyone. Now, on the ground, she couldn't remember anyone from before. She didn't know why, if it was her brain dismissing those memories as unimportant, or if she just didn't care anymore.
"Hey, Clarke." There was an irregular thumping behind her, making it easy for Clarke to guess who was coming up behind her.
"Raven?" Clarke paused, standing to the side to make room for people to continue past her in the hall. They gave her annoyed glances, but mostly ignored her.
Raven reached Clarke's side, her long ponytail swinging out behind her as her body swayed to match her uneven gait.
As always, Clarke stomach clenched at the sight of Raven and her leg brace. She knew it wasn't her fault that Raven had taken a bullet to her spine and now would never be able to walk properly again, and from the look of it, Raven was grimly pushing on with her life, refusing to let her leg define her. But it was a struggle for Clarke to remind herself that she couldn't control everything, couldn't protect everyone, no matter how hard she tried.
"What's up?" Clarke asked when Raven came to a stop and pressed her back against the metal wall, taking a deep breath.
Raven swiped a hand across her face, trying to hide the grimace of pain that flared in her eyes.
"I'm looking for Monty. Have you seen him?"
Clarke was already shaking her head. "Not for a few hours." It was possible that he had gone with Bellamy this morning, something that she was already regretting giving in to. He had been gone for too long, and she wasn't even sure what he thought he was going to achieve by taking scouts out into the woods. They weren't hunting or gathering herbs for the hospital, they were on a mission to search for any sign of the Mountain Men or Grounders. It was like Bellamy couldn't shut off the part of himself that was braced for an attack. He wasn't the type of person that was going to just stand by and wait for war to come to their new home.
"He might with Bellamy outside the fence," Clarke finally said.
Raven frowned. "What are they doing out there? How many times does that make this week?"
Clarke's jaw clenched and she jerked her head around to focus on Raven. "What?"
Raven blinked, guilt flashing in her eyes. She ducked her head, fiddling with the top straps of her leg brace.
"Raven, what does that mean?" Clarke asked lowly, breath hitching in her lungs as she tried to control the emotions that were quickly rising.
Raven mumbled something, eyes still downcast, and Clarke could feel anger, bubbling in her chest and threatening to burst, but it wouldn't be fair to take it out on Raven, who didn't have much to do with Bellamy's lies as far as Clarke could tell.
"Raven," Clarke said, forcing herself to calm down. She needed to save that anger for when the real person who deserved it was present.
Raven looked up, mouth twisting. "Listen, I don't want to get in the middle of this. Really—I don't give a shit, but Bellamy asked me to make him an escape route through the fence line on the south side, one that no one would know about. I figured you knew, so I did it." She paused, waiting to see how Clarke was taking this. Clarke forced out a nod. "He didn't tell me until later that you didn't know and that he wanted to keep it that way."
"Why?" Clarke burst out. It wasn't a question that Raven could answer, and she shrugged in response.
"I don't know, but maybe the two of you should figure it out and stop putting me in the middle of it." Raven's voice was sharp; she had gotten over her guilt quickly, but Clarke didn't blame her.
"Believe me, Bellamy and I are going to have words when he gets back," Clarke muttered.
Raven's mouth spilt into a grin suddenly. "I'd hate to be him."
A little bit of Clarke's anger loosened and she smiled back, but it was short lived as Miller whizzed by them.
"Hey," Clarke said, pushing off the wall to chase after the other boy. She threw a half-wave at Raven, but was already concentrating on the next problem. "Miller! I know you can hear me."
Miller sort of slowed, but didn't stop. "I don't have time to chat right now, Clarke."
"What's the hurry?" Clarke demanded, picking up her pace so that she was side by side with Miller. "I thought you were outside the fence with Bellamy."
Miller gave her a sidelong look, and a thrill of renewed frustration rose in Clarke's chest; how many of the 100 were lying to her?
"I was," Miller said carefully, "but Bellamy sent me back early."
Clarke opened her mouth to ask why, but Miller came to an abrupt stop, and she didn't have to ask. They were standing outside the room they were using for their makeshift hospital.
"Oh," Clarke said through numb lips. "Who?"
Miller wasn't rushing inside, and he had taken the time to talk to her, so whatever it was, it probably wasn't life-threatening, but Clarke was having a hard time telling that to her wildly beating heart.
"Uh, we found Murphy."
Clarke blinked; that's not what she had been expecting. Murphy had left Arkadia months ago, before they had won the war against the Mountain Men, and she frankly, hadn't given him a second thought. She never expected to see him again, figuring that he would find some rock to crawl under and survive whatever Earth threw his way.
"Is he…?"
"Hurt?" Miller supplied when Clarke didn't continue. "Yeah, but he's alive. Pretty dehydrated, but just cuts and bruises mostly. His ankle's fucked up though. Bellamy sent me ahead to find Abby or Jackson to come meet them at the gate."
"My mom's outside," Clarke said, but she glanced into the med center just to make sure. It was empty; Jackson was probably making his rounds too.
Miller huffed out an annoyed breath. "Then I made this trip for nothing."
"Not for nothing," Clarke said as they spun on their heels and set off back the way they came, "you found me."
Miller cast her a wary look, suddenly realizing that he must have somehow put Bellamy in Clarke's sights.
"Wait, Clarke, don't…" He trailed off when she shot him a glare. "Just don't kill him," he finally said.
"I can't make any promises," Clarke said, and then focused on finding Bellamy.
.
.
The sun hit Clarke as soon as she stepped out into the open air. She blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the light as she set off down the dirt road that had been constructed only a few days ago, to the main gate.
There was already a knot of people gathered, blocking Clarke's view of what was going on, but thanks to Miller, she had a pretty good idea. Using her elbows and brute force, Clarke fought her way through bodies until she was at the front of the crowd. She paused, taking a moment to assess the situation.
Bellamy was standing in the thick of it, but of course he was. At his feet, Murphy was stretched out, eyes screwed shut as Abby knelt by him, gently prodding at his foot that was crudely splint with some strip of cloth and a thick stick.
Clarke focused on Murphy first, knowing that if she looked at Bellamy for longer than a second she was going to lose it. Murphy was thin and dirty, and his hair was matted into dreadlocks while his skin was littered with patches of dried blood and bruises. He looked like he had been through hell, but considering it was Murphy, that didn't really surprise Clarke.
"Murphy," she said, breaking out of the crowd and crouching down next to him.
Murphy's eyes snapped open and he twitched, yelping as his ankle was jostled. He threw Clarke a glare. "Griffin." He paused for a short breath. "We've gotta stop meeting like this."
Despite herself, a smile quirked on her lips. "Yeah, no shit." Her smile fell away. "We'll need to talk after my mom patches you up."
To her surprise, Murphy didn't protest, only nodded and closed his eyes again, tipping his head back against the hard packed ground.
Clarke took a breath and then looked up to Bellamy. He was looking down at her, face closed off in a way that she hadn't seen in a while; he knew what was coming.
She slowly stood up, and carefully stepped around Murphy so that she was standing toe to toe with Bellamy.
"You and I need to talk," she said, surprised that she managed to keep her voice calm. Maybe this conversation wouldn't be as painful as she thought; there was a chance that they could keep it civil.
Bellamy shook his head. "Later."
And just like that, all of Clarke's cool went out the window.
"No, now!" Clarke snapped, jabbing at finger into Bellamy's chest. He looked down at it and then knocked it away. "You need to explain to me just what the hell you think you're doing out there!"
"I don't need to explain myself—"
"I talked to Raven and she told me what you've been doing, or at least as much as she knows," Clarke said, talking over him.
Bellamy's lips curled and he shot a look over Clarke's head, presumably trying to find Raven to glare at her.
"You're putting yourself and our people at risk," Clarke continued, voice rising. Bellamy's eyes snapped back down to hers, anger flashing in them. "And for what? You won't even tell me what you're doing."
"Do I even have to?" Bellamy hissed through his clenched teeth. "You know, as well as I do, what's out there. I'm not going to sit on my ass, waiting for them to come and finish what they started!" His voice rose and he towered over her. "And just because you don't agree with me, doesn't mean that I'm going to stop doing what I think is best for us."
"What's best for us is for you to use your head," Clarke shouted, matching his volume. "You're running out there half-cocked with no idea of what you're doing."
"As opposed to you?" Bellamy interjected with a low laugh. "You're not doing a damn thing. I've been waiting for you, waiting for months for you to wake up and remember that we've still got enemies out there who'd like to see us dead."
Clarke sputtered. Her fists clenched into tight fists at her sides as her blood rushed, hot and fast, to her cheeks. Her knuckles were aching to take a swing at him, and Bellamy jutted out his chin, daring her to do it.
"Come on," Bellamy sneered, voice dropping. "Are you gonna do something now? Then do it. I'm right here, Clarke."
He was on a crash course to meeting Clarke's fist with his face, and Clarke was more than willing to give him what he was begging for.
She took a swing, clumsy and wide, not at all what she had learned from surviving the ground. He ducked it easily, and threw her a mocking smile.
"Oh, fuck you," Clarke snapped, and then gut punched him. He doubled over with a wheeze that sounded more like a laugh.
"C'mon," he bit out, straightening. "That's all you've got?"
"I said, fuck you!" Clarke screamed, throwing both hands out to slam into his shoulders, but he was like an immovable boulder and her hands bounced off, palms stinging from the impact.
"Yeah?" Bellamy yelled back. His chest was heaving, as if he had a tenuous hold on his own anger and it was pleading to get out. "Same to you."
Clarke's eyes stung, and she saw the look of regret flash on Bellamy's face. For a long beat, they stared at each other, wondering just how they had escalated the situation so badly.
It was then that they both abruptly became aware of their audience.
Bellamy was the first to break eye contact with her as he briefly closed his eyes and wiped a hand down his face before glancing to his group behind him. Clarke followed his gaze, noting the pale faces that looked back at them.
Monty and Harper stood close together, hands locked tightly; she didn't think they realized they had joined hands, but she knew it must have happened at some point during the screaming match.
Her shoulders sagged and she heaved out a shaky breath; no one was supposed to hear all that, especially the 100. They didn't deserve that, not after everything they'd been through. The least she and Bellamy could do was hold it together until they were in private.
"I didn't realize mom and dad were on the outs," Murphy suddenly said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the crowd.
Clarke glanced down at him. He was still stretched out on the dirt, upper body propped up on his elbows, but he didn't look like he was in pain anymore; probably because he was too delighted to have witnessed the 100's leaders completely lose it in front of everyone.
"I'm not your mom, Murphy," Clarke snapped. "Thank God."
"Shut up, Murphy," Bellamy added.
Murphy snorted and shifted his position. "At least the two of you can still agree that I'm the scum of the Earth, and probably space too. Glad to be of some help."
Clarke risked a look at Bellamy, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were fixed on Abby, shuttered and unreadable.
A stone slid down Clarke's throat and settled in her stomach and she followed his eyes to her mom.
Abby was still crouched by Murphy's feet, but the bandages in her hands were held in white, shaking fists. Her face was pale and her mouth was pressed tight. Her eyes were flicking from Bellamy to Clarke, but Clarke didn't know what her mom was thinking. It suddenly occurred to her that Abby had all the power here; she and Bellamy were still acting like they were in charge, like this was mere days after the dropship landing and they were grappling for control, but the truth was that they weren't in control of anything.
Abby and Kane could throw them into the brig, take away food rations, or any other number of punishments for this display. Those were too harsh, Clarke knew, but it didn't stop her from feeling like she was spinning wildly into open air with no way to land on solid ground.
"Blake." Right on time, Kane pushed his way through the silent crowd. "A word."
Bellamy's mouth twisted and he gave Kane a belligerent look, but then nodded. He turned, facing Monty and the others. "Put your gear away and get some food." He paused and lowered his voice. "I'm sorry…I'll talk to all of you later."
Kane waited, more patiently than Clarke would have thought, but she knew that things had changed for the sharp and righteous man since landing on Earth.
"That goes for all of you as well," Kane said, facing the crowd and raising his voice. "There's work to be done."
After a hesitant beat, the crowd quietly dispersed, leaving only Clarke and Bellamy, and Abby and Murphy still on the ground.
Kane strode closer, giving Clarke an appraising look as he slid by her.
"Are we going to have this talk here or…?" Bellamy asked Kane, head cocking to the side and a mocking smile on his lips.
Clarke wondered if she could hit him again.
"Yes," Kane said, not rising to Bellamy's bait. He turned to include Clarke. "You should stay too."
Clarke didn't bother telling him that she hadn't planned on leaving.
"I don't know what happened in the mountain—"
Bellamy opened his mouth, ready to feed them the lie that he and Clarke had decided on, but Kane held up a hand, stopping him.
"I know you're not telling us everything, and I don't care as long as what you're hiding doesn't put our people in danger." He paused, eyes jumping from Clarke to Bellamy. "Does it? Does it put our people into danger?"
Bellamy caught Clarke's eyes, and she knew without having to speak what he was asking. "No," she said, eyeing Kane. "It doesn't. We told you everything." That was a lie, and everyone knew it. "We got our people out of there, but not everyone is…there's still a threat in the mountain. Cage is alive and we're not sure how many others are with him."
Kane waited, giving Clarke a long look. She stared back; he was waiting for her or Bellamy to tell them how they managed to save the 100, how they had gotten out of the mountain, how they were still alive.
But Clarke wasn't going to. They didn't need to know that she had pulled the lever, killing everyone inside—well, not everyone. Clarke didn't know how many had survived, or how, but she did know they were still up there, hiding in their mountain with Cage leading them now.
Maybe it was stupid not to tell Abby or Kane, but Clarke already had the weight of Jasper's accusing eyes on her, not to mention the rest of the 100; they all knew, but on the way down to Arkadia they had all quietly assured her that they weren't going to talk about it.
Her stomach twisted painfully as she remembered their hollow eyes locked on hers, sober and completely ready to do what she wanted. They trusted her and Bellamy with their lives, and they weren't going to betray her.
The truth was she didn't want her mom to think of her as a murderer any more than she already did.
"Good," Kane said, bringing Clarke's attention back to him. "Our people are safe and that's what matters."
Bellamy nodded and then shifted to leave, but Kane blocked him.
"I'm not done, Bellamy."
Bellamy scowled, but stayed.
"I don't know what's going on with the two of you—I don't care, but you need to figure it out in your own time. We don't need a shouting match on display for everyone to see. It's bad for morale—"
Bellamy snorted, causing Kane to pin him with a pointed look.
"You two are important, and to see you fighting isn't what our people need right now."
Clarke frowned and opened her mouth, but Bellamy beat her to it.
"We're important?" he demanded, voice quivering with pent up emotion. Clarke didn't know if it was anger or something else. "Since when are we important." He gestured between him and Clarke. "We've been kids since you've landed, what's changed?"
Kane shook his head. "You know what's changed. The mountain happened." He gave Bellamy a knowing look before turning to Clarke. "Lexa and her people happened. You both have proved yourselves to be more than capable. You're clearly not children anymore."
"No shit," Bellamy muttered, raking an aggressive hand through his hair.
"Hang on just a minute," Abby said, speaking up for the first time. She struggled to her feet, leaving Murphy. Her eyes were wild. "They've proved themselves, yes, but they're still kids, our kids."
"Not me," Bellamy said, looking at Abby with dark eyes. "My mom's dead."
"Mine too," Murphy put in. "Thank you, Jaha." The bitterness in his voice matched Bellamy's, filling the space between them.
"So is my father," Clarke added, feeling a vicious swell of cruel victory as Abby's features twisted.
Kane was silent, a pained look on his face.
"Looks like we have both of you to thank for that," Bellamy added, twisting the knife a little deeper. "So thank you for making sure we were completely ready for what was waiting for us on Earth."
This time he didn't wait for Kane to dismiss him. He brushed past both Abby and Kane, and to Clarke's surprise, hooked his hand around her elbow, pulling her with him.
"Hey," Murphy protested behind them, "don't leave me with them."
Bellamy ignored him, so Clarke did too.
He didn't let go of her, and his fingers felt like hot coals through her coat, but she didn't shrug him off.
They made it halfway back to the arc before he abruptly stopped and turned to face her, dropping his hand back to his side. He didn't wait for her to speak. "I'm sorry." She didn't have to try and see that he was being genuine; his dark eyes had opened and it was like she could see into his soul again.
A wave of relief crashed into her, and she felt like she was back on even ground.
"Me too," she said.
He gave her a short nod, and turned to go, but she reached out and snagged his arm. He glanced at her fingers and then back to her face.
"We still have to have that talk," Clarke said.
Bellamy stared at her, and for a moment she was afraid that she had misjudged the moment, but then he rolled his eyes and nodded again. "Oh, I know. There's no way I was getting away that easy."
"You thought that was easy?" Clarke asked before she could stop herself. "I hit you."
"Barely."
Clarke's eyes narrowed. "You were provoking me. I'll do better next time."
Bellamy grinned and Clarke felt like she was getting a blast of sunlight directly in her face. "I know you will. You're one of those people that take that saying, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again, very seriously."
"I do not," Clarke started, outraged, but Bellamy was already turning to leave.
Her hand was still connected to his arm, so she followed him and he didn't stop her.
.
.
A/N: Couple of things:
a) I've wanted to explore a what-if scenario of the ending of season 2 since I saw it years ago. I always thought there was so much potential for the writers to dive deeper into the trauma of what had happened to the 100 since they landed on earth, but they never really did, expect for a few characters (Clarke and Jasper are the two that come to mind). I also felt like they cleaned up the Mt. Weather mess way too quickly. It was my favorite plot and they finished it in one season.
b) All that being said, this fic doesn't include Primfaya or Ali or really anything after season 2. It's basically what I wanted to see in season 3, but I honestly don't really know where I'm going with it. So if you feel so inclined, drop me a comment on things that you'd like to see or have explored. I could definitely use some feedback and ideas.
c) I don't really write romance. It's just not my thing so it's not really going to be present in this fic. Obviously, I love Clarke and Bellamy to pieces and they are straight up SOULMATES, but I'm incapable of writing them doing more than giving each other longing looks and maybe holding hands.
d) Thank you for reading!