AN: Sorry about the cliffhanger, but come on – how could I not leave it there? Still a lot of emotions in this one, so be aware

I don't own anything relating to The 100

Chapter title from "Back to Me" by The All-American Rejects

65

When Your Eyes Light up the Skies at Night

Clarke's not sure how she ended up on the floor, but she can feel the cool tile of the entryway against her bare legs. Directly in her line of vision is a pair of dark wash jeans and she quickly averts her eyes from them and the wearer.

"Shit," a voice that isn't his – because it can't be his – says somewhere above her. Then, strong and oh so familiar arms – not his, not his, NOT HIS – scoop her up like she weighs nothing at all.

She balls her hands into fists and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to prepare herself mentally for when she opens them again and it's not him. Because it can't be. She felt him die, heard the coroner take him away in a body bag, he's gone. Dead. She repeats the word over and over in her head – dead, dead, dead, dead, dead – until she's put down carefully on the couch. She feels it dip when whoever it is sits down next to her, their body heat warming her.

He – because she knows it's a man, but it's not him – remains silent next to her for a long time and she can almost pretend that she's alone again, except for the slow, even breathing a few feet from her.

She pulls her legs to her chest, wraps her arms around them and presses her forehead against her knees. It's already dark in the room, the only light a small lamp over in the corner, and this way she ensconces herself in a black, soft blanket that shields her from the world.

Then he speaks. "Clarke… can you please look at me?"

And she knows that it can't be his voice, but it is, even though it sounds so wrong. Did he ever call her by her name? He must have, at some point, but she can't recall it. It was always Princess, sometimes babe or baby. She honestly can't remember that he ever used her actual name…

"I know this must be… hard to believe," he continues. "I can't even imagine."

Clarke doesn't respond. Maybe if she just stays still and quiet, this hallucination or whatever it is will go away. She knows she hasn't been sleeping as much as she should these last… three days, really, maybe it's finally taking its toll and her brain is making up things, giving her what she so desperately wants.

A little voice somewhere in the back of her mind tries to tell her that there is another explanation, one she hasn't let herself hope for, not really, even though she desperately wanted it.

She pushes the voice away.

There's a low rustling sound and then she feels a warm, tentative hand on her arm. She jerks back violently, scrambling into the corner of the couch, out of reach, shaking her head against the touch.

He sighs deeply. "Please, Princess, I don't know what to do if you won't even look at me."

It's the 'Princess' that does it. She carefully lifts her head to lean her cheek against her knees instead and then, slowly, opens her eyes.

And there he is. Hair messy, like he just ran his hand through it – maybe that was the noise she heard a moment ago – eyes deep, brown and warm, intent on her face, freckles dark against his skin. He's wearing a dark blue t-shirt that could be one of his, she doesn't really know. It looks like something he'd wear. When she meets his eyes, his mouth quirks up into a crooked smile.

"Hi there."

Maybe it is a hallucination. Or a dream. She could have fallen asleep on the couch, lord knows she's exhausted enough to doze off without noticing. And maybe she should just go with it, enjoy having him here for however long she'll get him, even knowing that it's not real, that it will end.

But she can't. It would just hurt more when reality does catch up with her.

"This isn't real," she manages to get out, voice barely more than a whisper, because as convinced as she is that it's not real, she's terrified of doing something that makes it end.

His face falls at her words. "I was afraid you might say that."

"You're dead. You… I was… I felt you die, I saw…"

She can't complete the sentence, tears spilling down her cheeks again, distorting his face, and her voice catches in her throat.

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry." He reaches for her again and this time she doesn't have it in her to resist, so she lets him pull her into his lap.

She can't help but melt into him, because it's like coming home. His arms immediately go around her, holding her to him just a little too tightly but she's not going to argue. He brushes a kiss against her temple, lips soft and warm like she remembers, before tucking her head under his chin and against his chest. His free hand is trailing up and down her back in soothing motions as she falls apart completely, her entire body shaking with her sobs.

Eventually, as she's learned over the last two days, the tears run out. They'll be back later, perhaps when this delusion fades or she wakes up.

She pulls back a little, wiping the moisture off her face before hesitantly lifting her eyes to his again.

It's getting harder to tell herself that it's not him, because it is. It's her Bellamy – not just the way he looks, but his voice, his touch, his smell. Even the little wrinkle between his eyebrows as she studies him is so him.

See? The little voice is back, despite her best efforts. You know it's not impossible.

But she's still not ready to actually believe. It feels like a trick, a prank, like someone's going to jump out and laugh at her if she actually does let herself believe.

"Are you a ghost?" she asks instead, pushing the other possibility away firmly, and he huffs a laugh.

"What gave it away, the see-throughness or the incorporealism?" Her instant reaction is to elbow him in the ribs, so she does. "Hey!"

"I've never seen a ghost, how would I know what they look like?" She moves out of his lap and back onto the couch. He raises one hand a little, as if wanting to pull her back to him, but she needs to be able to think, and she can't do that when he's so close. "OK, probably not a ghost. That really leaves two options – I'm dreaming, or I snapped and I'm locked in a psych ward somewhere, hallucinating."

He rolls his eyes. "You haven't gone crazy. And…"

He doesn't complete the sentence, instead leans forward to pinch her arm. Hard.

"Ow!" she complains, rubbing the spot. "What was that for?"

"To prove you're not dreaming," he replies with a shrug, which, OK, makes sense. "I figured it would be the most efficient way to prove it to you."

"OK, so I'm not dreaming, you're not a ghost and I'm not hallucinating… according to you, though that's exactly what I would expect you to say if I were hallucinating, so it's not really conclusive evidence."

He snorts. "God, I thought you if anyone would figure it out, but if I knew you'd be this hard to convince, I would have asked them for some sort of proof."

"Them? Them who?"

He doesn't answer her question, instead shifts so he's facing her directly on the couch. "Look at me, Princess. What's different?"

She frowns at the question, unsure of how he expects this to convince her he's not a mirage or something, but does as he asks.

There's nothing. He looks just like he did the last time she saw him, before… she pushes the memory away.

"What am I supposed to be looking for?" she finally asks.

He just raises his eyebrows and brings a hand to his face, pushing his hair away from his forehead.

"See? No Number."

He's right, of course. But then again, his Number was gone the moment his heart stopped beating. It had faded when she'd been able to look at him, when she'd left him in the bedroom…

"Yeah, that's what happens when you die," she says, trying and, she thinks, succeeding in preventing her voice from breaking. The little voice in the back of her mind is trying desperately to get her attention, but she's ignoring it.

It puts the theory that she's dreaming to rest, though. She's dreamt about Bellamy several times over the last eight months, but even in her dreams, he always had a Number.

"Yes, but there are other reasons to not have a Number as well," he pushes. "You don't have one."

She just stares at him for a long moment, the little voice inside her jubilant as she finally lets the possibility settle, thinks about it. "You're… a Soul Keeper?"

"Bingo."

She buries her face in her hands, pushing her palms against her closed eyelids. The tiredness that's been there all day is clouding her mind a little and it would be so easy to just believe him.

After all, this is what she hoped, prayed would happen, somewhere deep down, even as she didn't dare to. But she never actually thought it would.

She wonders if this is how Bellamy felt when she first told him about Soul Keepers, though there's this desperate need deep in her soul, she wants so badly to believe him, that probably wasn't there for him.

"What. The actual. Fuck?"

Clarke looks up at the words to find Raven and Zeke by the kitchen counter, both standing frozen and staring at them. Oh good. Impartial outsiders.

"Thank God!" Bellamy exclaims. "You can help me prove that I'm actually here and that she's not just imagining me."

For another moment, they both just stare, then Raven crosses the room and pokes Bellamy experimentally in the shoulder. He raises an eyebrow at her as if asking what she's doing.

"Oh my God," she chokes out, and it's the first time Clarke's seen her really affected in the last two days. Then she practically throws herself into Bellamy's lap, hugging him tightly. "I can't believe it."

He chuckles a little, hugging her back. Zeke, in the meantime, has sat down on Clarke's other side and now reaches out to take her hand. "You OK?" he asks quietly and she lets out a sound somewhere between a sob and a snort.

"I have no idea," she admits. "I honestly still think I'm dreaming or something."

"I don't blame you," Raven says and Clarke looks up to see that she's moved so she's sitting next to Bellamy instead of on top of him. "What the hell happened?"

Bellamy shrugs. "Honestly, it's already getting a little fuzzy. I don't remember…" He pauses and reaches out to take Clarke's hand and she knows what he's about to say before he says it. "I don't remember dying. I remember going to bed, dozing off, and then I… I woke up in this… room, I guess? I don't know, it was sort of fuzzy, or maybe that's just the memory, I have no idea. There was a man there, I know that much, though I don't know if I ever really saw him or if it was just a… presence of some sort. I can't remember what he looked like anyway. He basically told me that I had a choice – I could move on, to whatever's next, or I could go back."

Silence falls over the room as the other three contemplate his words. Eventually, Clarke looks up, finding Bellamy's eyes already on her. "And you came back," she murmurs, feeling the tears rising in her eyes again.

He squeezes her hand. "Of course I came back. If we had forever…"

He leaves the phrase hanging between them, and Clarke will probably never know what it is that finally does it, but in that moment, she just knows. She tries to swallow down a sob, only partly succeeding, and wraps her arms around him. She feels him let out a sigh against her hair before he once again pulls her into his lap, arms tight around her.

To Raven's credit, she does give them a long moment before she clears her throat.

"I get that this is a lot, guys," she says. "And we'll get out of your hair soon but I just… I don't get it. Even if this is how all Keepers are recruited, or whatever, the rest of us don't get to keep our memories."

Clarke tries to move back, but Bellamy's arms just tighten around her so instead she shifts so she can lean her head against his shoulder. She does want to hear this too.

"I wish I could explain," he says. "I just… I don't know. This guy, whoever he was, he said I could go back and since I know none of you have any memory of your old lives, I asked about it. Said I didn't want to go back just to go back, if they were going to wipe my memories or whatever. I would go back to Clarke. He didn't exactly sound surprised, even said that he had been expecting that, and that even if it wasn't standard procedure or whatever, they could make it happen."

It's quiet for another moment before Zeke speaks up. "Just like that?"

Clarke feels Bellamy shrug. "There might have been more, but that's all I remember. And even that's getting fuzzier and fuzzier, I might forget it completely soon, I have no idea."

She presses her nose against his throat, breathing in the familiar scent that she knew she'd never get to experience again just a little while ago. "They let you remember."

His lips press against her forehead. "I wouldn't let them make me forget."

Raven lets out an annoyed breath, something Clarke recognizes from when she can't figure out a problem. "This is just… I can't wrap my mind around it."

That makes two of us, Clarke thinks.

"I mean, it's not that out there," Zeke objects, making the others turn to look at him. "All I'm saying is that we knew this was how it worked. Soul Keepers."

Clarke's pretty sure the confused expression on Raven's face is mirrored on her own.

"We did?" Raven is the one to finally ask.

Zeke looks between them, expression turning confused. "Well, yeah… right? Or, I mean, we knew it could happen."

"What?" Clarke ask, feeling her throat protest against the loud exclamation.

"Yeah, babe, you're going to have to explain yourself," Raven adds.

"Come on," Zeke says, running a hand over his face. "We know that this is how it works."

"You keep saying that, but I definitely didn't," Clarke tells him.

"But…" He looks at a loss for a moment. "You guys know Diyoza, right?"

Clarke has to think for a moment, and Raven beats her to it. "Charmaine? You're old friend?"

Right. Clarke has only met her once or twice, but she remembers the woman.

"Exactly." He sighs. "I was so sure you guys knew about this, but I guess not… so, back in… the early seventies, maybe? I don't remember exactly. Before I met you, I know that. Anyway, she dated this Norm, I can't remember his name. It never really got very serious, partly because he only had five or six years left to live. They broke up after a few months and I think she basically forgot about him, but then she ran into him, like, a decade later or something. I was with her, it was at a monthly meeting for Keepers in Miami in 1985. So she ran into this guy, I remember she looked like she'd seen a ghost… at first, she figured it was just someone who looked like him, you know, but then she talked to him and found out he'd only been a Keeper for a few years, and the dates lined up perfectly with when the guy she knew was supposed to die. He had the same name, even had a tattoo Diyoza remembered… but, unlike you, he had no memory of his past life."

They all try to take in that information for a while, and then Raven reaches across Clarke and Bellamy to smack Zeke in the shoulder. "And you couldn't have mentioned this, oh I don't know, at some point over the last eight months?"

Zeke rubs his shoulder. "Ow. Like I said, I thought you guys knew." He glances at Clarke. "Besides, I didn't want to say anything and get your hopes up and then…"

She understands that, and she's grateful, really. The last two days have been hell, but she can't even imagine what it would have been like if she had actually been hoping Bellamy would come back, maybe even believing that it would happen, and then he didn't…

"I get it," she assures Zeke and he offers her a quick smile.

"OK, fine, I get it too," Raven admits.

"I think…" Bellamy starts, letting out an annoyed huff. "I think this guy said something about that, actually. Not… the memory part. That they've been having trouble recruiting for a while, with the whole social media generation."

Clarke thinks it over for a moment. "I guess that makes sense," she then says. "I mean, like ninety-five percent of all Keepers are between… what do you think, twenty-five and forty-five?"

Raven nods thoughtfully, picking up on her reasoning. "Yeah, sounds about right. And these days, most people in that age range has a pretty big social media presence. Even if you're relocated to the other side of the country or even the world, there's still the internet."

"So maybe they're reevaluating their memory loss stance," Zeke suggests with a shrug. "Maybe Bellamy's the first in a new generation of Keepers or something."

Bellamy lets out a low chuckle that Clarke feels reverberating through his chest, which makes a warmth settle in her own. He's here. Somehow, against all odds, she actually got him back.

"And here I wanted to think I was special."

She pulls away enough to be able to smile up at him. "Don't worry, you're still special to us."

The smile on his face is her favorite Bellamy smile – soft and warm and only for her. "Good to know," he says before leaning in to kiss her.

Raven clears her throat. "OK, like I said, we'll leave you alone soon, but I think we still need to talk logistics."

Clarke forces herself to pull her attention from Bellamy to Raven. "Logistics?"

"Yeah," she says with a nod. "Do you have a mentor?"

Bellamy frowns at the question. "I have no idea, how would I know that?"

"I woke up in Raven's house," Clarke supplies. "So that was a pretty good indicator. Plus, she knew she was supposed to be my mentor, so that helped."

"Well, I… I didn't wake up, I don't think, but they sort of… zapped me, maybe, into the hallway outside," he explains. "Straight from that weird room or whatever it was, I think."

"Huh," Zeke says. "So by that reasoning, I guess Clarke would be your mentor. I'm assuming you didn't get the assignment?"

Clarke immediately shakes her head. "No, definitely not. And I… I was checking, I couldn't admit to myself that that's what I was looking for, but I checked my email all the time, in case I did get something like that."

Her voice is shaking a little at the end and Bellamy's arms tighten around her, reminding her that he's there.

"Maybe check now?" Raven suggests, handing Clarke her phone.

She opens her email, but there are only some messages about sales and one ad for knock-off Viagra. "Nothing."

"OK, well, as long as another Keeper doesn't show up and claims the assignment, I say we assume it's yours," Raven concludes. "Next – where are you?"

Bellamy just stares at her for a long moment before looking down at himself. "Um, here?"

Raven lets out an annoyed huff. "No, not…" She glances at Clarke, and she realizes what's coming a second before she says it. "You didn't wake up in a… I don't know, a fridge in the coroner's office, so is your body still there?"

He pales a little at the question and it's Clarke's turn to squeeze him. "Fuck, I have no idea," he says, releasing his grip on her to run a hand through his hair. "I mean, the options are basically… what, cloning or teleporting? Can they do that?"

Zeke snorts a laugh. "Honestly, we have no idea what they can do."

Clarke turns the words over in her head for a long moment before she actually speaks, because she really doesn't want to do it. She actively does not want to do it. But maybe she has to. "I can… I can probably find out pretty easily."

Raven's on the same page. "Call the coroner's office."

Clarke frowns at the empty table in front of them. She remembers Luna giving her the number, but she has no idea where it's gone in the last two days. "I have the number somewhere, but I…"

Raven holds out a piece of paper. "You had it in your hand when we got here, I figured I'd keep it safe for you."

Clarke flashes her a grateful smile and hesitantly takes the piece of paper, turning it over in her hand. It's just a phone call. She can make a phone call to the coroner to try to clear this up, especially when she has Bellamy here, next to her and real.

"I'll call," Zeke offers, gently taking the paper from her again, and she offers him a grateful smile.

He doesn't leave the room, though, just pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials.

"Hi, my name's Miles Shaw, I'm calling on behalf of my friend, Clarke Griffin. I know it's late, and you're probably busy, but she's obviously going through a difficult time…"

He pauses, apparently listening to whoever's on the other end, and Clarke burrows closer to Bellamy, needing the physical comfort he can offer.

"Bellamy Blake," Zeke says and then listens again. "Are you sure? This is the number she was given… well, how long would it take for his case to get logged in the system? Right. And could they have taken him somewhere else? No, I understand, sorry to have taken up your time." He hangs up, a frown on his face as he looks up at the other three. "So you're not in the system. At all. She didn't actually do a physical check, but she assured me that all cases are logged into the system as soon as they arrive, so… I don't know."

Raven isn't frowning, but she does have a focused look on her face that Clarke knows only too well. "And you asked if they could have taken him somewhere else?"

"Yeah, she said the whole state has the same system, so she would have found the case on the computer, just listed under another coroner's office. So that's not it."

Bellamy's looking between them. "So, what, we're thinking… teleporting?"

Raven throws up her arms. "I… I don't know."

"I could…" Clarke starts, pausing to swallow before continuing. "I could call Luna, she might know what could have happened."

"Luna?" Bellamy asks quietly, pulling her closer, sensing her discomfort even without her having to say anything.

"One of the paramedics," she explains, focusing on a loose thread in the blanket that's still wrapped around her. "She was… nice. She sat and talked with me, stayed until… she gave me her number, said I could call her if I wanted to talk. I think she… she said she'd been there, so…"

Bellamy's arms are almost painfully tight around her when she finishes talking, but she welcomes it.

"So, yeah, I can call her."

Raven looks a little hesitant, but this isn't a call that someone else can make, so she doesn't object as Clarke unlocks her phone, her hands only shaking a little.

"I'm here, OK?" Bellamy murmurs in her ear, and she takes a deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Luna?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"Clarke. Clarke Griffin. You said I could call you if I needed to talk?"

Her voice goes up at the end, making the sentence into a question.

The line is quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry, when did I say that? I believe you, I just… I don't give my number to a lot of people, it's odd that I don't remember you."

Clarke tries to wrap her mind around what this could mean. It happened, she knows it happened, she has the memories and so do Raven and Zeke. But…

"It was two nights ago, a little after midnight, I think, you… you responded to my nine-one-one call, my husband…" She pulls in a shaky breath, takes a moment to focus on Bellamy's arms around her. "I still don't know what happened but he… he died. You stayed with me until someone from the coroner's office came and gave me your number…"

There's some rustling on the other end and then Luna's voice comes back. "That would be the night between the twenty-seventh and the twenty-eight?"

"Yes," Clarke confirms.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to tell you, we didn't have a call like that that night. Are you sure… I don't know why someone else would give you my number, but that's the only explanation I can think of."

It's not impossible, of course, but Clarke knows Luna's voice, even over the phone. "Maybe. I'm sorry to bother you."

"No, no, that's OK. You said you wanted to talk? I'm leaving for my shift in fifteen minutes, but we can talk until then, if you want?"

"No, I shouldn't keep you. I was just… but a friend of mine just got here so I'll be fine."

"If you're sure. Sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"Not your fault."

She hangs up the phone and puts it down on the table.

"Come on, what did she say?" Raven asks impatiently.

"She didn't remember me at all," Clarke replies, still not quite believing it. "They didn't have a call like that on that night… that's not possible, right?"

"So on top of teleporting, we're talking memory alterations?" Zeke pipes in.

"And we're, what, shocked by that idea?" Raven asks. "That's what they did to all of us, right?"

It's true, of course, but still… "This is selective, though," Clarke says. "They're not just wiping someone's whole life, it's… one specific event."

"Which we still remember." Raven gets up and starts pacing, a sure sign she's annoyed she can't figure out what's happening. "And judging by the woman at the coroner's office, they altered the records in the system too."

Bellamy's been quiet so far, and when Clarke looks up at him, his eyebrows are furrowed. "It's been two days?" he asks, voice breaking a little on the question.

She nods. "Yeah, almost."

"Fuck, I thought…" He runs a hand over his face. "I thought it was the same night, not… I mean, I didn't have any sense of time when I was in that place, but I didn't think it had been more than a couple of hours at most."

"OK, I appreciate that this is hard on you, but we need to figure this out," Raven says. "I'm calling Wells."

"Why would Wells have any better idea of what's happening than the rest of you?" Bellamy wonders.

"I think she just wants to know if he remembers or not," Clarke explains.

"Exactly," Raven confirms. "Yeah, hi. So you remember the last two days, right? No, I'm not drunk. Just tell me what's been happening." She listens for a minute or so and then nods. "He remembers. No, I was talking to the others. Well, you see, when Zeke and I got back a while ago, Bellamy was here. No, I'm not joking, that would be a horrible joke…" She sighs and holds out the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

Bellamy takes the phone. "Hey, Wells."

Clarke's close enough to hear both sides of the conversation and has to smile at how obviously happy Wells is. She knew he and Bellamy had become friends, but it's still nice to have confirmed.

When he's talked to Wells for a few minutes, repeated the story he's already told the rest of them, Bellamy hands the phone back to Raven. "See? I told you I wasn't joking…" She leaves the room, probably so Clarke won't have to listen to her and Wells theorizing about what's happened with Bellamy's body, and when she comes back a few minutes later, she's frowning. "Yeah, he doesn't have any explanation either. But at least we know the lack of memory loss isn't limited to just us."

Her words hang in the air for a moment and then she looks at Clarke. "Shit!"

Both Zeke and Bellamy look alarmed. "What?"

"Can we call Miller?" Clarke asks, picking up on what Raven must have just realized. "I don't want to wake up Octavia if she's finally asleep, but…"

"Octavia?" Bellamy exclaims. "You've told her?"

"Of course I told her!" Clarke pauses. "Well, Raven did."

"We've already established that none of us thought this was going to happen," Raven reasons. "So it's not like we could have waited, you know."

He sighs. "I know, but still… who else?"

"Just Miller and Jackson," Clarke says. "So it could be worse."

"How the fuck are we going to explain this to them?" he asks, his head falling back against the couch. "You barely believed me and you know about the whole Soul Keeper thing, they're just…"

"They'll probably think we're pulling some sick prank on them," she finishes.

"Maybe they don't remember," Zeke offers, half optimistic. "Maybe it's a Keeper thing."

"I'm not sure that would be better," Raven says. "I mean, for one, they'd have to have also planted false memories to explain why Octavia and Lincoln are here, plus you two would have to… fake your own deaths or something once you're relocated."

"Fuck." Bellamy sighs. "Honestly, I don't know what would be worse."

"Fake death," Clarke says immediately. "You didn't see them, they're going to be so happy, even if they do think it was some stupid prank. And we can explain, right? I made you believe me."

He still looks a little hesitant. "I guess we might have to, because if they do remember, we're not faking my funeral or something like that."

"Definitely not. And even if they don't remember, I vote for telling them eventually. I've never actually had to fake my own death, but it does not sound fun."

"What time is it?" he asks, turning to Raven.

She checks her phone. "Nine forty-five. Normally, I'd say it's not too late to call, but it's been two shitty days, they're probably asleep."

Bellamy considers for a moment. "Call him anyway. Not… if he does remember, we can't tell him over the phone, so just… make something up. I'm pretty sure you'll know if he's forgotten."

"True." She taps at her phone a couple of times and then raises it to her ear. "Hey, sorry, I hope I didn't wake you guys up? Yeah, I know. Listen, I know we said come over whenever tomorrow, but I slipped some sleeping pills in Clarke's food and I'm hoping they'll knock her out for at least twelve hours. I'm guessing you guys need sleep too, so how about you come over around one tomorrow? No, no need to bring anything, we can get lunch delivered or something. OK, good. See you then, night."

"They remember," Bellamy says when she's hung up.

"Yeah. So we've got some 'splaining to do tomorrow."

Something Raven just said is stuck in Clarke's brain and she watches her friend closely for a moment, until it slots into place.

"Did you actually slip me sleeping pills?" she asks.

Raven meets her eyes without even flinching, just raising her eyebrows. "You needed to sleep."

"Seriously? That wasn't your call to make." Clarke tries to look disapproving but probably fails since she can't suppress a huge yawn.

"Looks like you still need sleep," Bellamy notes, rubbing her arm and turning to Raven and Zeke. "Why don't you guys come back tomorrow morning and we'll figure out how to do this?"

"Yeah, good plan," Zeke agrees. "We'll have a look at home, see what we might be able to use to explain."

Clarke reluctantly gets up out of Bellamy's lap, but doesn't let go of him, pulling him to his feet with her. "I have some photos, but you have a lot more, right?"

Raven nods. "Yeah, we'll bring them."

"OK." She yawns again, not even trying to hold it back this time, and feels Bellamy tug her around the coffee table. "I'm still not happy about the sleeping pills, by the way," she adds, but nobody seems to pay her any mind.

"Lock up after yourselves and we'll see you tomorrow?" Bellamy just says, looking from Raven to Zeke.

"We will," Zeke assures him. "Night."

Clarke thinks she should object, walk them to the door, but Bellamy's behind her, hands on her shoulders, sort of nudging her along in the direction of the bedroom and, honestly, she's so tired, the emotional rollercoaster catching up with her. So she just waves over her shoulder. "Night."

They hear the front door open and close a moment later, and then he opens the bedroom door, and she freezes.

"What's wrong?"

She squeezes his hand and takes a deep breath. "I haven't been in there since…"

"Oh, shit, sorry, I should have thought about that." Bellamy comes around so they're face to face. "Do you want to sleep in the guest room?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I just… I knew if I went in there I'd just… I'd see you, and I couldn't, it was too much. But you're here."

"Are you sure?"

She nods decisively. "Yes. I love my bedroom, I don't want it to become a place I can't go because of bad memories. There are so many more good memories in there, and we can make more."

His mouth quirks up on one side. "That's the plan."

He holds onto her hands as he backs into the room and Clarke forces her eyes to stay open.

The image she's dreading never comes, maybe because she has the real Bellamy, alive and smiling, right in front of her. She lets out a breath.

"OK?"

"Yeah."

They don't bother brushing their teeth, just crawl under the comforter, curling around each other in the middle of the bed.

"I'm still kind of scared this is a dream and I'll wake up tomorrow and you'll still be gone," Clarke whispers after a long moment, shifting a little so her ear is right above his heart, letting the reassuring thumps calm her mind.

"Sorry, you're stuck with me now."

"Oh, no."

He chuckles, and then yelps a little when Bastet jumps onto the bed and lands on his feet. "Hey, I was wondering where you were hiding."

She stands completely still for a long moment and then carefully pads up the bed next to him. She sniffs his hair and face for a moment and then throws herself down on her back and starts purring.

"I guess she's glad you're back too."

"That makes three of us."

AN: I hope Clarke didn't come off as protesting too much in this chapter – I just figure she had been too scared to think this would even happen so she just can't trust her own eyes at first