AN: Spent a couple of hours working on chapter 7 today, so I thought I might post chapter 5 earlier than I'd planned. Darkangel-Luv, sydcasy, WyaRose, Athenyx, GangstaKB33, Miss Meowing, you guys are awesome. I loved your reviews and a few of them made me laugh! :D So I dedicate this chapter to you wonderful six. Enjoy!

PS - I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF A REWATCH AND I REALISED THE SHOW DOES IN FACT USE THE METRIC SYSTEM! YAY! Too late now, so I'll keep the American system to stay consistent with the story, but :D :D :D :D It was so difficult visualising the yards and feet Google was translating from meters for me. Basically: BIG cliff and decently sized beach.

"Clarke!"

Bellamy couldn't believe it. One moment she'd been there. The next she wasn't.

The only sound evidencing her disappearance had been a small gasp.

The echo of a splash a fair distance below followed.

Bellamy felt adrenaline surge through his limbs, enabling him to unleash the full force of his shock and anger into a solid punch that smashed itself into the Grounder's face. With hardly a second thought, Bellamy dived over the edge of the cliff and found himself flying with frightening speed towards the churning body of water.

He broke the surface far more smoothly than he'd anticipated. With a quick succession of upward strokes and kicks, he was breaking the surface once more. He tread water as calmly as he could, even as he fought off the instinctive panic all members of the Hundred felt when facing a large amount of water. "Clarke! Clarke! Clarke!?" he called, with each repetition creeping further from authority and closer to panic. He spun in a circle but he couldn't see or hear her.

"Clarke!"

He was finding it hard to tread water now. The adrenaline that had coursed through his body only moments ago was now fear, and it paralysed where the adrenaline had given strength. God, he couldn't lose her now. The camp couldn't lose her. She was their only hope for long term survival.

He dove under the water, his eyes stinging at the salt as he stared almost unseeingly through the murky green depths. When oxygen became a problem, he surfaced again for a quick lungful of fresh air before diving again. He took haphazard broad armed strokes to push himself through the water, turning his head this way and that. He resurfaced twice more before he spotted her. At last!

His heart thrummed in the base of his throat as he swam toward her. Oh god. Oh god, no. She was too still. She was too deep. Her eyes were closed and there were no bubbles escaping her closed lips. Bellamy worked her backpack off her shoulders and arms and released it. It sank steadily to the bottom of the lake. His arms encircled her waist and upper back and he hugged her to him as he brought them both to the surface.

"Clarke!" he yelled. "Clarke!" Tapping her cheeks didn't work either. He hitched the arm holding her waist to him higher and swam clumsily toward the closest shore he could spy. It took many minutes, far longer than he'd've liked, but they made it and that was the important thing. He dropped her to the wet sand once he'd been able to crawl on his knees far enough away from the water that the tide wouldn't cling to them with its needy fingers.

She didn't move.

Her face was sickly pale. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, her neck, the sand. Her eyelids showed no movement and a brief hand at her slightly parted lips revealed no passing air.

Bellamy sniffed. He'd failed her. He'd failed the camp. How could he face going back without her? She was the glue in their leadership. She was the voice of reason, the only voice other than Octavia's he'd willingly consider or voluntarily seek out.

With a sudden rage, he wrenched open her mouth, covered her nose and exhaled as deeply as he could. After repeating the exhale, he clasped his hands together over her breastbone and began counting. When he reached thirty, he returned to her mouth, pushing the thoughts away that her lips were too cold and unresponsive. Two more round of chest compressions and breath exhalations left him feeling weak and shaky.

They'd of course taught CPR on the Ark, not only in Guard Training, but in high school as well. But when the CPR had failed, the next stage had always been defibrillation. They didn't have that option down here. They'd also had doctors. Nurses. Equally first aid competent trained peers who could take over in turns so you could continue longer.

But Bellamy was alone and stranded on a beach over a hundred feet below a cliff that was crawling with Grounders.

With his waning energy, Bellamy began one more round of chest compressions. As his lips descended on Clarke's, he thought with regret how she'd deserved better than to go out like this. She'd never fully reconciled with her mom, and he knew she still carried a lot of guilt with her over her father's death. That much had been clear during their conversation after Dax's failed attempt to kill him.

Clarke had saved him from Dax. And he couldn't save her now.

His heart was heavy in his chest as he exhaled a final time, until with a slow realisation, it dawned on him that it wasn't a chest tight with emotions he was feeling, but two hands weakly but frantically pushing him away.

Clarke only just managed to push him away and roll to her side to expel copious amounts of salt water. Bellamy tried to gather as much of her wet hair back as possible as with lurch after lurch, she purged the lakewater. It was almost frightening how much she'd ingested, but it more relieving to see it out.

When Clarke was done dry retching, she weakly rolled back onto her back to gasp up at the sky and gulp in greedy breaths. Her eyes found his and it wasn't until she'd gotten enough of her breath back that she managed a "Thanks. Bellamy."

"Clarke!" At Finn's voice, Bellamy looked up to see the boy who had his eyes set on Clarke. He helped Raven down the ridge and the pair jumped to land in the sand. "Is she alright?" he wanted to know. Raven craned her neck to see for herself but said nothing.

"I'm alright," Clarke said with a croaky voice, grasping Bellamy's hand to help pull herself to a sitting position.

"The Grounders?" Bellamy asked the newcomers before shooting a look over his shoulder to scan the clifftop.

"We saw you guys fall but had to throw them off first. They backed off pretty quick when they saw Raven lighting a fuse."

"Lucky they did," Raven said as she hoisted her backpack higher. "The whole thing was soaked. It would've blown jack."

"We doubled back to make certain though. They're gone. And they didn't look too interested with making the trip down here."

"Right, well, we'll need to set up camp here for the night. I doubt we'll make it back to the others before dark, and Clarke looks like she can barely walk."

"I can manage," Clarke said sourly, yanking her arm from his helping hand and getting to her feet unassisted. She wobbled for a moment but regained her balance and hid her relief. Truth be told, she didn't feel up to hiking back to camp.

"I'll get some firewood," Raven announced.

"I'll see about some dinner," Finn said with a look to the water. "Hey Bellamy, did you see any fish while you were in there?"

"I was a little busy," Bellamy returned drily. "Let's see about making some fishing equipment though." And with that, the two boys walked back to the shore as Finn began digging through his backpack and Bellamy stole a final glance at Clarke.

"I'll help you," Clarke told Raven, taking a step toward the sparse line of trees that began about thirty yards off of the beach.

"No, you sit. I'll get this." Clarke found herself almost rudely pushed back down to the ground by a bossy hand on her head.

"Raven," she growled. "I'm not an invalid."

"Clarke, you just kinda drowned. Can you let us take care of you for five seconds please?"

With an exaggerated huff, Clarke grabbed a nearby twig and began drawing in the sand.

When Raven finally collected her, she was glad to see Raven had found a nice niche in the cliff face. It was narrower than four people could find comfortable (let alone the tense pairings of their group) and it was tall, but Raven explained it was safer that way, so they could have the fire going without worrying about smoke inhalation.

"The trees could've provided us a little extra cover, but this is probably warmer in the long run" Raven explained as she took a lighter from her pocket and lit a small pile of leaves. The girls sat silently watching as they waited for the leaves to properly ignite, before gingerly piling the branches Raven had scavenged for on top. "The wind off the water tonight will be a bitch though."

Silence fell once more as the pair waited by the weakly growing fire. Both were lost in thought when the boys returned, carrying three fish and Clarke's backpack.

"Thanks," she said when Bellamy dropped it by her feet. He was wet from head to toe, so she assumed he'd gone back in to retrieve it. She didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, none of the Hundred knew how to swim. So Bellamy had risked his life. On the other hand, he'd not only saved her life in the water earlier, but retrieved what they'd all worked so hard to bring back to camp. "Really," she added gratefully at the thought that she now had at least her smaller first aid kit to return home with. She wasn't thrilled she'd lost the industrial med kit before the fall.

Dinner was a great icebreaker, and the food filling their stomachs helped them to relax. Raven was currently regaling Finn's many heroic deeds from childhood. It was sweet, the way Finn had always looked out for Raven. When Clarke met his gaze over the fire, she couldn't help the fondness from showing. She hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. No way was she starting their relationship up again. If it could even have been called a relationship. They'd slept together once and that was the end of it.

"What about you, Bellamy?"

"I don't have any stories," he told them with barely concealed impatience. "For me, it was keeping Octavia safe and that was it."

"Oh come on," Clarke wheedled with a laugh. "I'm sure you have some stories. What about your friends in school?"

Bellamy's mouth remained stubbornly shut and it was with that, that Clarke realised perhaps he hadn't had childhood friends. If his whole life on the Ark after Octavia had been born had been about concealing and protecting her, he wouldn't have been able to bring anyone home. He would have had to keep the world at arm's length. No wonder he turned out the way he did.

"What way?" he asked with a sharp look at her. She hadn't realised she'd voiced her that last thought aloud.

"Nothing."

"No, what?" he repeated with a hard voice.

"It's nothing," she insisted. They lapsed into an uneasy silence. At each frequent peek, Clarke could see Bellamy's mood was steadily growing darker. Shared glances with the others revealed they were as clueless as to why, as her.

"Okay, Bellamy, what's wrong?" Clarke suddenly asked when it became obvious no one else was going to confront the problem head on.

He stubbornly locked his jaw and shook his head.

"Come on, something's wrong. Spit it out." She knew that sometimes the only way to get Bellamy to open up was to push his buttons, but had she known what was coming, she would have remained silent. "It's not healthy to-"

"You know, this is all your fault," he told her angrily, gesturing to the fire. The hands that held her fish dropped to her lap and she gaped at him.

"Excuse me?"

"This entire day has been a disaster! We've been attacked by supersized wasps, drugged to the point we practically knocked on the Grounders' doors, been attacked again by Grounders, and you fell off a cliff and drowned. Your little quest today put more people in danger than if we hadn't gone, medicine or no."

"We're not going to last long without it!" Clarke exploded. "Why don't you get that? Winter is coming and we are nowhere near prepared for it. What do you think happens to the human body when it experiences a harshly cold environment, huh Bellamy? This isn't the Ark anymore. We can't regulate a pleasant temperature twentyfour-seven."

"You're damn right," he growled. "We need to be focusing on building proper shelters. Cabins. Mess halls. A smokehouse. You think the parachute tents are going to keep us from freezing?"

Clarke could only stare, stunned, as Bellamy's face warped in the firelight with anger. It gave Bellamy a sick sense of satisfaction to know he was finally getting through to her. The unpleasant emotions he'd felt churning in his stomach for the better half of the afternoon since Clarke's fall had finally found an outlet. And they were practically singing with glee as he unleashed them fully, and rapidly lost control.

"You just can't stand not being in charge though, can you, Princess?"

"Oh really?" Clarke asked bitterly. "And how is that?"

"You hate the idea that without your pills and your bandages, you and your medical skills will be rendered useless here. That's why you're trying so hard. You couldn't save your father so you're trying to save the rest of us."

The remainder of her dinner fell to the floor as Clarke lunged to her feet and clenched her fists. It was the only way to stop herself from hitting him. "Don't talk about my father!"

"But you Alpha Station people just don't get it," Bellamy continued over the top of her. "You with your comfy apartments and medicine and money. You never learned what all the other Stations learned long ago. You make do. You adapt and roll with everything. Monty's been experimenting with herbs here on the Ground. Jasper makes sure the dropship always receives the first stock of moonshine before the rest can even get a sip. You haven't even tried to adapt, Clarke. Face it, we're on the Ground now. It's time to start thinking like a Grounder. We are Grounders now."

Clarke was trembling, but she couldn't tell if it was from the breeze that had picked up outside or the rage she was bottling up.

"I'm not going to apologise," Bellamy told her harshly. He was on his feet now too. "I won't mollycoddle you like the rest because I hold you to the same standard I expect myself to be held to. Your dad's dead, Clarke. He was floated. Just like my mom. Just like Raven's parents. Just like half the parents of the Hundred. That was your mom and the Council. But you're down here now. If you can't break free from your Ark thinking, you're sentencing the rest of us to death."

"You can be a real jerk sometimes, Bellamy," she hissed as she shoved him in the chest. He didn't fall over like she'd hoped, but she stormed off without a second glance.

So dramatic! Ahh Bellarke. Such tempers and strong dispositions between those two. You gotta love 'em. Especially when Bellamy gets all worked up coz Clarke nearly died and he hasn't worked out that's what's upsetting him yet :P

REVIEWS ARE MOST WELCOME :D