Chapter 5:

5 Weeks Later…

Clarke's body moved as she reached a hand across his little sister to lightly pat Raven's leg. They were settled along the fire, each girl mesmerized in their giggly conversation. He squinted his eyes, bringing the circular disk to his tentative lips as he swallowed the creek water. It was an awful taste, really, but it was water. She flicked her eyes towards him, watching how the girl's covered their mouths after she returned her glance back to them and whispered something he could not hear. There was a specific distaste for Octavia's gossiping nature—never did he assume it was a disease, but as he watched Clarke and Raven play his sister's favorite game he was certain two of the strongest women he knew were infected.

He stepped closer because he desperately wanted to know what had the girls in such a fit of laughter. Bellamy's intentions were not to intrude or appear as if he were eavesdropping but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to hear her melodious laughter, bask in her playful words and embrace her flying hands as she explained something he could not translate. He shuffled his feet closer, snapping twigs as he moved. The girls did not seem to notice—no, their attention was shifted to a different man.

Lincoln approached them with a thin-lipped smile and a soft head nod, capturing their attention with every action he made. They gawked at him in his bare chested, warrior-toned presence as if he were god's gift to women—even his own beautiful lover. Bellamy's strides increased until he was close enough to hear Raven's inappropriate comment, "Hey handsome…" She purred, "God, I could just eat you up."

He remembered the day Raven and Finn finally ended their relationship, the way she was confident Finn would never stop wishing to covet what was not his. She ended their relationship with a slap and started their friendship with a firm handshake. Bellamy did not understand the hold Finn had on Raven but he assumed it was slightly, mildly, related to his relationship with Octavia. It consisted of one unfaltering word: Family.

"Back off." Octavia chimed, narrowing her eyes jokingly at Raven until her face morphed by the excessive laughter piercing through her curved lips. Bellamy could not process how Octavia was able to joke about infidelity. He looked at his blonde vixen, his eyes darkening at the thought of a man uttering Raven's statement and how he would react. "He's mine, Reyes."

"What do you have for me, Lincoln?" Clarke asked as he extended his arms towards her, a rusted metal box in his large hands. She hesitantly opened the container, struggling with the latch for a brief movement before it popped open with an awful sound. "Thank you." Her face was radiant, touched by such happiness and gratefulness. Her lips parted as she continued to smile up at Lincoln, "This means a lot." He wanted to know the contents of the fucking box. Bellamy extended a rough hand towards Lincoln, who accepted the handshake with immediate respect. He watched as Clarke turned her eyes up to him, unaware that he was looking at her so intently in the first place. Bellamy winked and observed as a faint blush moved up her neck. It was as if they had their own secret, private space every time a small action such as winking was preformed despite the fact that secrets were rare in their camp.

The entire camp knew of their relationship one way or another—mostly because Octavia could not resist calling Clarke "sister" over the last five weeks, partly because Bellamy and Clarke were on fire. He would lean down and kiss her ever-so-sweetly before grabbing her hand and openly leading her to their tent. And she, she was not better than him when it came to getting what she wanted. Her fingers would trail up his back, making him arch like a cat before whispering her desires in his ear. He would normally follow with a smug look. With their youthful actions, the rumors flew and people were excited with the increased morale of the two overbearing leaders.

Her concentration was broken by a painful force to her breast, "Ow!" Clarke complained, her hand gently rubbing across the area as she glared daggers towards Raven. "That fucking hurt." Clarke and Raven were becoming great friends after her public breakup with Finn. It gave each girl a specific perspective—survival and their similarities as strong women. They started to giggle, too loud in Bellamy's opinion.

He was trying to have a proper discussion with Lincoln concerning their alliance. It'd been going fairly well with limited interactions and decreased fear among their people. Lincoln was the volunteered spokesperson of the grounders, mostly because he wanted to see Octavia multiple times a week. Bellamy respected him on a political level but he did not know how to feel when it came to his relationship with his sister. "What are you going to do, put me in time out?" She arched an eyebrow, a seductive smile hinting at the curve of her lips.

"Afraid you'd like it to much…" Bellamy's voice was a soft, contemplative whisper as his thoughts started to drift towards a more creative, imaginary place. They exchanged a purposeful look before he lightly chuckled and returned to his conversation with Lincoln. Even in their fiery, compassion they knew who they really were. Leaders. They had to be leaders rather than running off to be in whatever tricky position they found themselves in.

Octavia covered her ears with her hands and started to shake her head, "Too much. Too much!" She squealed before faking a gag. It took all but a few minutes before she elbowed Raven in gut for what appeared to be the second time that day by the look on Raven's face. She frowned deeply and pinched Octavia with her tiny fingers, watching as the playful brunette pouted and rubbed her upper arm until it was stained red. "Pay back's a bitch, Raven."

"What the hell are you talking about? You started it." Raven argued, her mouth turning into a pitiful O as she stole a look towards Clarke. Clarke snorted because she was not going to be a mediator between them. "Whatever I'm so over this game." Raven stood to leave, running her eyes across Lincoln's body once more before parting to join Monty in the communications tent. Clarke crossed her arms to protect her stomach from Octavia's flying elbows, sensing she was not finished with her violent game. She moved her arm forward, fully prepared to give Clarke a taste of the torment she'd put Raven under when Lincoln cleared his throat.

"You really don't need to be hitting her like that Octavia, you might cause problems." It was odd to see Lincoln so concerned with Octavia's roughness. He sent her a look of authority mixed with a slight plea for her to stop being so childish. She pouted briefly before turning her head to Clarke.

"Whatever." She grumbled, "Your tattoo's almost healed anyway I don't know why there's such a freaking problem."

"He just saved my lunch." Clarke giggled, "He is my hero."

In response, Octavia snorted and waved her hand flippantly. "I have to conserve my strength anyway for round two with Raven." The boy's—men, really—completed their talk with another handshake. Clarke would be sure to find out every missed detail of their conversation when she was alone with Bellamy. She would have interrupted them if she weren't so keen on the idea that they needed to bond. Lincoln clearly loved Octavia dearly and that was not going to change just as Bellamy would never stop trying to protect his sister.

I'll leave you with your Queen." Lincoln smiled at his words, earning a small kiss on the cheek from Octavia. Octavia was trying to teach Lincoln the culture of the Ark and the way the teenagers behaved. Funny, really, because Octavia was truly the last person Clarke would ever recommend to teach Ark Culture and ways of life in their community—she was under the floor for almost 17 years, how much could she really know?

"You hear that? I'm a queen now." Clarke said as she stood, brushing the dirt from her pants before her eyes made contact with his.

"You'll always be Princess to me." He moved forward to kiss her forehead, his hand knotting in her hair before he released her skin, a jealous question forming on his lips. "Why is he so protective over you anyway?"

She simply shrugged, "I guess it's just part of their culture. All the leaders I've ever met are women so he might have a certain respect for me…look, he brought me antidotes for possible poisons." She opened the box to show him, the same radiant smile gracing her lips again. "Thoughtful, really…"

"As long as he knows it's my job to protect you."

"I can protect myself." She said on cue, her signature frown designed just for him meeting her face instead of the smile he cherished. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, guiding her towards the drop ship. He was spending a lot more time in the drop ship with her than he needed to, but Clarke wasn't complaining. "So tonight when we get back to the tent…"

"Yeah?" Bellamy was intrigued with her line of conversation, thinking back to their earlier innuendos. She turned away from him to hide her amusement because of his eagerness.

"I'm going straight to sleep. I am so tired."

"Tease." He mumbled before he brushed her hair away from the back of her neck and placed his lips to her skin. His fingers started to trail down her back, towards her side. It wasn't until then, that he noticed his princess was not wearing her jacket. He was going to ask where her jacket was but the sound of his name echoing off the walls of the drop ship brought him back to reality. "I swear this always happens…"

XXX

Her hands shook, dripping in blood. The thick red liquid moved down her hands to her elbows at an unnatural pace. Something caused her to inspect her body to see if it was her blood. She watched the blood stain her abdomen and then rise up her chest. She felt like she was drowning.

Her mind told her it wasn't her blood…

She breathed and looked around the emptiness before she was quite suddenly met with a face that was dark and concealed. If she had to compare it to anything—it would be death. "All your people are dead" It announced through a black chiffon mouth cover. "and their blood's on your hands, Clarke Griffin."

"What? No…" Clarke panicked, letting tears run down her face in grief, "They can't be dead!"

"You didn't protect them." The figure told her, "You swore you were going to protect them and you didn't protect them!" Death's voice changed repeatedly into the sound of the people she spent her day to day life with.

"I would have!" She screamed, "I would have if I'd known something was wrong." (Because she would have…she knew she would have without a doubt.)

The figure became louder, "They were always in danger! From the moment the Arc people came down to this Earth they were in danger. You didn't save them. You didn't fight." She felt overwhelming fear paralyze her as she remembered her thoughts from weeks ago. She knew she had to protect them…so why didn't she? Why did she just let her people die?

Their blood was literally on her hands and she was covered.

"I would-"

Clark felt a rough hand grip her shoulder before her eyes opened widely, her body jolting in the process. She recognized the calloused pattern on her bare skin but she could not slow the painful thumping in her chest. His arms circled her body following the soft whimper from her shaking figure. She attempted to focus on something else but the images of her nightmare continued to flash before her eyes in the dark tent. "Baby…" He whispered while he rested his chin against her soaking wet hair, tightening his grip instinctively. He willed her to calm down, to realize that he was there to protect her. After minutes of her harsh breathing, silence took over his fears.

He could feel her stillness—feel how cold she was against him. He kissed her shoulder, his hand running down her skin as a reminder that he was there and he was not going anywhere. "I'm used to the nightmares…" She said tentatively, exhaling before she continued. "It comes with the territory but this nightmare…it was different."

"I can tell." He tried to comfort her with his hot breath against the side of her neck. His hovering kisses begging her to thaw from her frigid position. "Tell me about it?" He asked softly while his fingers started to play with the ends of her hair. "Please."

She pressed into him, "They killed everyone, Bellamy…They came down and killed everyone and it was my fault because I didn't protect them." She started to shake once more at the mere thought of her dream, "We have to protect them."

"We will protect them, Clarke. They're our people, how could we not?" His words did not bring her the comfort he hoped they would.

"What you're saying makes sense…it doesn't mean that I can forget that dream. I will never forget that dream."

He wasn't thinking about sex, he wasn't thinking about how one of her legs were slung over his and how the other laid flat between him. He wasn't being aroused by the way his upper arm touched her breast or how her hair sent the familiar smell of moonshine through his nose because she was constantly disinfecting everything around her… he was only thinking about how he wanted to tear her pain away by comforting her the best he could.

Honestly, he wasn't thinking about sex until she asked him in her sweetest voice, "Can you make the memory go away tonight?" He kissed her shoulder wetly which was his version of 'Yes'. Her head fell back onto his shoulder while he placed kisses down her neck. He used his tongue to seal the kisses, sharply moving as far down as he could in their current position. She moaned, "Bell…" When his hand reached down to her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves slowly. The circular motion his fingers elicited numerous moans—moans that were driving Bellamy absolutely crazy. He wanted to give her this pleasure but he wanted to experience it too.

She could tell by his rock hard shaft that he wanted a deeper contact with her. "Bellamy, please…" She groaned, gripping his thigh. "I need you in me." She did. She wanted to be a close as possible to the light he gave her. She wanted to hold onto it forever and never let it slip away.

He laid her on her side, placing kisses from her neck to her knee before she turned on her back. She spread her legs, looking up him. The wild look in his eyes was one she would never forget as long as she lived. His unkempt hair and complacent smile were appealing in every sense of the word. She brought her hand up to his face, tugging his jaw down until his lips met hers. The crushing passion that their kiss radiated was delightful. The way his body was elevated above her made her grin. "What?" He asked.

"Just you." She said quietly.

"Me?" He rolled his eyes, "Sometimes I feel the excessive need to get mirrors so you can see your grace every waking moment." He kissed her forehead, "You're everything, baby."

XXX

Octavia lingered outside of Bellamy's tent listening to the girlish giggles and low chuckles that carried from inside of the tent. She smiled, looking down at her feet. She really hated to ruin the moment but there was a more pressing matter. She pulled the tent flap aside to see two naked people she never ever wanted to see. "Oh my god." She covered her eyes with both hands, "I can't—god-god, please make it go away!"

She heard the rustle of a blanket and the rough sound of a pants zipper before Bellamy coarsely said, "You can open your eyes now." Clarke was tucked under the panther fur while he sat at the opposite end of the bed with only his pants on. She thought about how innocent Clarke looked—how her skin had a childlike glow to it that made Octavia want to smile.

"Who laughs when they're having sex?" Octavia asked, maintaining her disgusted tone. "That's so weird!"

"We weren't having sex." Clarke argued, hugging the blanket closer to her as a blush formed all over her skin. Bellamy felt her move, smiled towards his sister before turning his attention to Clarke. Octavia could tell he was sending her one of those adoring looks he often gave her. She wanted to throw up and praise him simultaneously, luckily she did not have to make a decision on which she would do first because Clarke asked, "Is something wrong?"

"For most people, I would say no." Octavia said, "For you though…yeah, something's wrong. Your mom's on the monitor. She's demanding to talk to you."

Clarke frowned and said, "Dismiss her" as if it were the obvious and most appropriate response she could think of in that moment.

"You know Raven can't dismiss your mom. She's got a weird thing for her." Octavia rolled her eyes, "Get your pretty little ass dressed and dismiss your mom yourself."

Bellamy wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, he seemed quite agitated. "You can leave now, O." Octavia didn't move. She wanted to observe his reaction. She watched as his face cracked between a rueful smile and a deathly frown—his fingers picked absentmindedly at his pant leg in the process. He was more than agitated, he was pissed. Octavia groaned before she exited the tent way more dramatically than necessary.

Clarke tossed the blanket from her naked frame and stood up, her hand running through her tangled hair before she gathered her clothes and quickly put them on. All the while, she waited for him to say something not so much as her boyfriend, but as a leader. "It'll be fine." She mumbled sourly as she threw herself back on the bed so she could lace up her boots.

"You barely went back to sleep last night." Bellamy started in, reminding her of her awful nightmare. She recognized it as a battle strategy he liked to use in arguments as a way to turn her against her decisions. "I'm concerned that she'll stress you out…she will frighten you or hurt you."

"I'm not fragile, Bellamy." Clarke kissed the corner of his lips before parting the tent. He recognized the beginnings of her fearless mask in the glance. She walked around people, sending nods where they were due—smiles where they were needed but she felt completely hallow as she thought of her mother. The emotions were overwhelming when the sting of her betrayal registered.

She pulled the flap back to the communications tent and sat in front of the monitor. "You haven't made contact in weeks. We were concerned."

"Weeks without communication in a metal box never seemed to bother you." Clarke shot back but steadied herself. She needed to talk like a leader—nothing more, nothing less. "We're fine. No causalities, no starvation, minor injuries and more importantly peace with the natives."

Her mother nodded in approval, "Once we land, you'll be able to launch a better arsenal against the grounders. We'll bring enough guns and any other weapons to do so. Peace with these savages won't have to be necessary to survive." It was her nonchalant attitude that struck Clarke at first—as if murder was that simple.

Clarke opened her mouth, her anger was not able to be concealed. "They're our neighbors…some are our friends! We're not going to murder them because you can't share resources!"

"It's already decided, Clarke. The risk is too high." Abby started in with her sanctimonious speech, "You can talk to the council and put in your opinion but you have to be reasonable. These people are a threat to our way of life."

She felted unwarranted tears prick her eyes, "This whole fucking planet's a threat to your way of life! They're human beings and if you make me choose between the people that floated dad and locked me up and the people that have helped stabilize this camp—I will choose them and I'm positive a lot of the other will too."

"I won't be disrespected." Abby said warningly, "You're acting like a child."

"No, mom, you're acting like a murderer." Clarke hit the camera button and pushed herself out of the chair. She needed to talk to Bellamy…she needed to talk to Lincoln, too. She pushed through the same people she'd exchanged looks with just minutes ago because everyone seemed to be in her way. If she could see her face, she'd see how terrified she looked. She felt as if she were going to be sick, but she pushed it down.

The second she saw a glimpse of his body, she had him by his wrist. Bellamy didn't need to be pulled to follow her. He knew by the tenseness of her muscles that it was highly important. She led him to the tent and turned around quickly on her heels. God, her face… it was a face he never wanted to see again. There was so much fear, so much terror… it was heartbreaking. "Clarke, what did she say?"

"They plan to annihilate the grounders even with our new peace." She said coldly, "It's like nothing I said mattered. They're so hell-bent on taking over and killing these people that they are beyond reason. It doesn't even make sense to kill the innocent."

Bellamy's second thought besides trying to evaluate Clarke's mental state was his sister. His poor little sister that had fallen in love with a grounder who was doomed to be killed if the Ark had any say about it. Octavia would never recover. "We won't let it happen." He said, "We'll fight."

"We'll die." Clarke said flatly, "It's a suicide mission."

"But isn't it worth it?" Clarke was sure someone had said the same thing before they blew up the world killing billions of people with them.

"Don't you see it, Bellamy? Who are we to decide how much life is worth?" Clarke said, "I can only make my own choices… I made a deal. I got stitches and a tattoo…which I now understand because if I break this deal then I get to walk around for the rest of my life with a reminder that I sentenced these people to death… But I made a deal and I plan on keeping it. I can't ask you or anyone else in this camp to follow me."

"You wouldn't have to ask me to follow you, Clarke." He said, "I'd do it blindly…but this isn't a blind choice. It's right and wrong. It is wrong to kill the grounders. It is right to fight beside them."