Dividing Lines

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Settling into the 100 Camp for the winter was easier than Clarke would have guess. Although she thought of her few loved ones every day, she was caught up with the medical bay and helping the others prepare for the next few months.

It didn't matter if the situation wasn't ideal; it was the one she was in and Clarke knew that she had to make the best of it. Food needed to be stocked, water had to be gathered; jackets and extra thick blankets had to be made as well as reinforcing walls to keep the cold out. Clarke's days were packed as she stitched up and healed anyone who had been careless. They weren't used to have a permanent doctor around and soon Clarke could hardly walk from the drop ship to Bellamy's house without being greeted by a handful of people. They wanted to thank her, talk to her, and invite her into their homes for dinner. Clarke suspected that many of them thought she had always been around; they were so used to her.

Bellamy even seemed to accept that having her at camp was a good thing. More than once, he had talked out a problem with her over dinner or just in passing. He seemed to pay no attention to her answers but at least he was talking to her. He had been busy the past few weeks repairing and strengthening the houses. He wanted to make sure that no cold could get in.

But that did mean people climbing onto roofs and using hammers and nails. The most common injury was from the tools; someone looked away at the wrong moment and they would slash their hand or their leg.

On a particularly chilly morning, Clarke was just wrapping up some bandages in the medical bay when Miller stumbled in with another boy from the original 100; a scowling, angry kid by the name of Murphy. She had seen him around Bellamy a few times but Bellamy gave him little heed. Miller was his right hand guy, followed very shortly by Jasper, something Murphy clearly did not like very much.

If the glare he was giving her was any indication, Murphy didn't like her very much either.

"He fell off a roof," Miller said as he helped Murphy to a table. "He's lucky that he landed on a hill and rolled down but he still cut up his leg."

Clarke quickly assessed the cut, placed just below his knee and tried to ignore the angry vibes from Murphy. "It's fine; it doesn't even need stitches. I'll clean it up."

Miller looked anxious to get back to work, so with a final nod he left. Neither she nor Murphy said anything to each other as she cleaned the wound. Clarke could feel the glare he was giving the top of her head.

She could guess why he immediately disliked her. Ever since they landed on Earth, people were less inclined to stay silent about the differences in class. She was the daughter of a head doctor and a head engineer; she got perks that no one else did. And people were sick of it. In the Ark Camp, you learned to stay quiet again but this wasn't the Ark Camp.

She was about to step away from him, finished with the cleaning, when he grabbed her arm painfully and twisted. Clarke grit her teeth and tried to pull away but Murphy held fast.

"What is it with you privileged bitches just getting to walk into any place you want and take over?" he wondered, his voice bitter.

Clarke just said, "Let go of my arm," in the calmest voice she could.

But Murphy shook his head. "You know, my dad got floated thanks to you people," he growled, "And now the Princess just thinks she can rule the kingdom again?"

That made Clarke freeze. There was something about hearing the nickname from Murphy that made her blood run cold. Bellamy said it teasingly, or even as part of an order but Murphy said it like a slur. His fingers were leaving bruises on her arm and Clarke knew there was very little chance of being able to talk this guy down.

Miller finally got back to Bellamy and the group, who were still repairing the roof of a house. Bellamy was standing on the ground, having just climbed down. He spotted Miller and frowned.

"Where's Murphy?" he asked but Miller just looked even more confused. "Uh, I left him with Clarke; she's going to patch him up."

Bellamy walked forward, staring back down the path he had come from. "Was there anyone with her? Tell me you didn't leave Murphy alone with her!?"

Miller was just realising the mistake he had made, when Bellamy took off in a sprint towards the drop ship.

There something horribly calm about Murphy; he stated his problem like it was reporting the weather and made it clear what he was going to do about it. Clarke didn't even have the time to scream before he raised his other arm and smacked her across the face.

The blow sent her flying into a smaller table covered in medical equipment. Glass shattered and Clarke was thrown to the ground. Despite the pain, Clarke tried to scramble away. Murphy stood up and he grabbed her foot, pulling her to ground again. He laughed; actually laughed like he was enjoying this.

"The Princess has some fire in her," he exclaimed.

Clarke had survived landing from space, two winters in a harsh world, animals and even the occasional Grounder. There was no way she was losing to a bitter delinquent with bad hair.

Her hands reached out, trying to find something, anything to help her. Just as Murphy grabbed her hair and pulled her upwards, Clarke's fingers wrapped around a scalpel. She twisted around and sank it into Murphy's shin, near where his cut was. Murphy screamed and dropped her.

Clarke had just pushed her back against the wall when Bellamy burst into the room. He quickly assessed the situation and gave Murphy a kick to keep him down. Miller was behind him suddenly and Bellamy ordered, "Get him out of here!"

Miller grabbed Murphy and dragged him out the door, the scalpel still sticking out of his leg. Bellamy went over to Clarke who was shaking slightly. She pushed herself upwards to stand, her back still against the wall.

"Princess?" Bellamy questioned quietly and Clarke met his gaze. Instead of hating that word, Clarke took comfort in it. Bellamy was here, she was here and everything was ok. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself.

"He-he tried to hurt me so I just grabbed whatever-."

"It's ok," Bellamy said, taking a few more steps towards her. "We've had trouble with Murphy in the past; I don't doubt that he attacked you unprovoked. But that won't happen again because we are finally banishing him."

Clarke blinked at him, frowning as she did so. "Banish him? Right before winter?" Bellamy was standing right in front of her, his eyebrow raised.

"Uh, yah Princess. That's how we do things here, especially when someone is a danger to the camp."

Clarke stepped out from the wall, the adrenaline fading. "You can't do that. He'll freeze to death in a week."

"That's not my problem," Bellamy answered, "And it shouldn't be yours. He just tried to kill you for all we know."

Clarke sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "The whole point of banishment as the ultimate punishment is so that we don't decide who lives and dies, right?"

Bellamy just nodded.

"If you send him out into the woods on his own, then we're as good as killing him. We should wait until winter is over and then it really is up to Murphy to ensure his own survival."

Bellamy gave her a once over, to check for injury and because he couldn't believe what she was saying. She was showing mercy to someone who hated her for no good reason.

"Plus, he'll probably end up in Grounder territory. Shouldn't Caitlin and Hunter know that someone like him is going to be in their area? You can tell them at the spring meeting."

Bellamy had wanted to get rid of Murphy for a while. He had always been a trouble maker and as Bellamy fell more into the role of responsible leader, he had regretted bringing Murphy into his inner circle. Not that he had much of an inner circle. Miller, Jasper and Wick were his main guys but he didn't tell them everything. Monty, Octavia and Raven had their own specialties and didn't pay much attention to the overall picture at camp.

To his surprise Bellamy had found himself talking to Clarke more and more about the camp's issues. They weren't really talks, more like he mentioned something and she gave her opinion on it. Still it was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off. Even if she was an annoying know it all. It was just that he had never had someone who tried so hard to see all the options, all the points of view. During the first days of the 100 and the Grounder War, Finn Collins had been always harking on about peace and negotiations, the opposite view to Bellamy. He made Bellamy doubt himself right up until Caitlin and Hunter joined them. The Grounder siblings knew Anya's tribe too well to think that they would ever want peace. Three outnumbered one, but Collins had kept going on and on. Clarke had compassion and empathy too but it wasn't going to get in the way of her survival. That, Bellamy had to respect.

"I hate to admit that you might have a point," he said, "But the only reason I'm not kicking him out now is because we have a place to hold him until spring. We can use one of the old bunkers."

Clarke nodded and started to clean up the broken glass.

"Leave it," Bellamy said, "I'll get someone else to do it. Find Octavia and get something to eat."

Clarke scowled at his bossy attitude but Bellamy continued. "And don't go asking to patch up Murphy either; Monty can do that."

Clarke huffed and walked out of the drop ship, Bellamy behind her. She could do with a break but she wasn't admitting that to him. Bellamy shook his head as he watched her march towards their house, probably to get changed. That girl was a lot of annoying things but she was the bravest and kindest person he had ever met. But there was no way she could just bounce back with a click of her fingers.

He stepped forward to follow her, ask her if she really was ok. Then he heard his name being called; the workers needed him at the roof. He gave one last look at Clarke's retreating back before turning away.

Bellamy wolfed down his dinner, starving after a full day of work. He had just finished writing up a guard roster for Murphy's bunker. Although there was no way he could get out of the bunker with the amount of weight they put on the lid, Bellamy would still fell better if someone had an eye on it.

Part of him felt guilty about the guy; in the early days, it had been Bellamy who had driven his need for power and hatred of the privileged. At the time, it had worked in his favour but now it had lead to Clarke getting hurt. He had to admit that he didn't want to see her harmed; not that most people could harm her. Monty had even shown amazement at the damage she had done with one scalpel and a wild hit.

The way she had bounced back from the attack was the thing that still really bothered him. How could she not feel some terror? Any guilt even, knowing her. He sat on a log by the fire but his eyes were trained on her window, which had a few candles burning in them. They were still working on getting electric lights around the camp so her room glowed with a soft brightness.

"You should go check on her."

Bellamy snapped his head over to the right to see Octavia munching on her own food. He had been so busy with his thoughts that he hadn't noticed her.

"Clarke's fine; I don't need to babysit her," he replied but his sister just grinned.

"Firstly, it's not babysitting and secondly, I never mentioned Clarke by name."

Bellamy felt his jaw clench and he sniffed. "Whatever," he replied, "I really need to tell her to be careful with those candles, that's all."

"Of course, big brother, I never suspected otherwise."

Bellamy ignored her and stood up. He strode purposefully towards his house, only pausing to catch Jasper by the shoulder. The younger boy had been on his way to give Octavia some extra sweet berries for dessert and Bellamy had caught this. He patted Jasper's shoulder, almost too forcefully. He nodded towards his sister and Jasper swallowed hard when he realised that Bellamy wasn't as oblivious as they had thought.

"I don't need to do the speech with you Jasper, do I?" Bellamy asked.

Jasper shook his head; he considered Bellamy a friend. He didn't want his friend to look at him like another no good boyfriend of his sister's.

"Good, because you don't need it."

This made Jasper look up in surprise to see a smirking Bellamy. "Don't tell her this but you're kind of the only guy I even remotely approve of. Don't mess it up."

He gave Jasper another hard pat on the back and then jogged up the steps to the house. He was pretty sure he heard someone whooping before he closed the front door but Bellamy found he really didn't want to know.

Instead he went to Clarke's door, which was wide open and he looked in. She was sitting against the headboard of the bed, curled up with her pillow. Her hair was piled up into a loose bun and she was reading one of the rescued books. She looked up when she heard his footsteps and actually smiled. "Hey," she said, "There's not a medical emergency or something?"

"Unless you count Jasper overdosing on relief then no."

After seeing Clarke's confused face, he added, "I kind of gave him and Octavia the ok. I'm guessing he thought I might kill him instead so he's happy right now."

Clarke chuckled and shut the book. Glancing at his awkward frame standing in the doorway, she said, "You know you can sit down right? This is your house."

Bellamy knew that; he just wasn't sure that this certain room belonged to him anymore. Clarke had already started to fill it with blankets, books and personal items. But that didn't stop Bellamy from sitting down on the edge of the bed and pretending to be relaxed. He looked around her room and spotted the trunk. Or more like what was on top of the trunk.

"I draw sometimes," Clarke blurted out when she saw Bellamy staring at the sheets of paper. She hadn't wasted it or anything; most of the sheets were covered in small sketches. But there were a lot of them. For a moment, Clarke was afraid that he would ask her if he could see them up close. Clarke was protective of those drawings; they were practically her emotions on a page. It wasn't that she didn't trust Bellamy; her drawings were just really personal.

To her relief, Bellamy just hummed and turned back to face her. The light from the candles made his face seem softer or maybe it was just exhaustion.

"Crazy day?" she asked but he just snorted.

"I think I should be asking you that Princess. I wasn't the one who got attacked and had to stab a guy."

Clarke seemed to still but then she wrapped her arms around her knees and sighed. "I know that I had no choice; he was most likely going to kill me."

"Most defiantly," Bellamy assured her, "There was no way he was letting you out of the room unharmed."

Clarke nodded and she took comfort from that strangely. If Bellamy agreed with her, then she must have been right.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Princess," he added, "Especially not since you're sitting here like nothing happened."

Clarke raised an eyebrow at him, her lips tugged into a grin. "Well I am the girl who negotiated her own kidnapping."

They got a laugh out of both of them and Bellamy was quickly wondering what the hell he was doing. She was fine, he didn't need to analyse how she was feeling about hurting another human being. Yet, he kept going anyway.

"Seriously are you alright? I've done some pretty bad stuff like that down here and it still haunts me."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, what was he doing? That was his reason why he wasn't fine, but did she really need to know that? He had never told anyone that, not even Octavia. He watched Clarke's face but she didn't look horrified; she looked like she understood. She nodded and rested her head against the wall behind her.

"The guilt doesn't leave but...the one thing I have learned down here is that you do things you didn't think you were capable of. Like on the Landing Day."

She paused at this, chewing her lip. "You see, people either died on impact or recovered. But then there were the very few who did neither. They didn't die but there was no way they were going to get better. They were stuck in this limbo of pain and suffering. My mom and I...we made the decision to end their suffering. Even though I know I did the right thing- like with Murphy- the guilt still stays with you."

Bellamy swallowed hard and he met her eyes, wide and blue. This was the most open she had ever been with him and it scared the crap out of him. Mostly because he wanted to be that honest too. He could be, with her.

"You're not the only one with guilt; you're not the worst person. I had to kill someone who tried to kill me, I put down my fair share of Grounders...you remember how those three hundred people that got killed because the Ark didn't have enough time?"

Clarke nodded once.

"They died because of me. I took the radio Raven had brought down and I threw it in the river. I didn't want anyone knowing that we could survive down here; I didn't want Jaha to come and execute me for shooting him."

Clarke blinked at him, feeling like she wasn't getting enough air into her lungs. She knew about Bellamy shooting Jaha, Raven's ship and the deaths of the three hundred. But she also knew what Bellamy didn't know.

"We've both messed up," she managed to say, "I think everyone has. But the three hundred wasn't entirely your fault."

Bellamy scoffed so Clarke suddenly moved forward until she was closer to him. "I mean it Bellamy. Yah, you played your part in it but so did the three hundred themselves and the Council. You can't take all of that on your shoulders. Especially not when you can see all you have done since then."

He didn't seem to believe her so she pressed on. "Do you know why you were pardoned? Do you know why the Council didn't go after you? It was because the whole reason we can survive down here is because of you. We all expected to return to Earth and see a bunch of scared teenagers; what we found was a strong group of people who had unwavering loyalty to their leader. Why do you think those families followed their kids to this camp? You have done some terrible things but you have more than made up for them."

He looked at her again, this time with less anguish in his eyes. "Maybe you're right," he mumbled, "Who we are and what we need to do to survive are two different things, I've realised."

Clarke gasped quietly; no one had ever put her feelings into words like that before. She was starting to realise that although she had heard the stories about him, she hadn't really thought about how his actions affected him. She didn't want him to feel weighed down by his past; being near him helped her feel better too.

Bellamy had been right; Clarke was fine. She felt guilt but she dealt with it, much better than he had. This one conversation changed that however. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders; someone understood, someone got exactly what he thinking. She was also refusing to let him forget all the good he's done.

Sure, he leads the camp but half time he barely knows what he's doing. He tries his best and hopes it works. Caitlin and Hunter had been cooperative but he could have used someone else to help him. Perhaps, he finally had.

There was a sudden hissing from the table near the window and Clarke jumped up off the bed to blow a candle out "I really should be more careful with these," she said, looking determinately at the table.

Bellamy stood up as well, practically running towards the door. Their...moment had passed and both of them clearly wanted to forget it. Yet, in the back of his head, Bellamy knew that wouldn't be easy. This was the beginning of something; the last inches of rock before the cliff fall. There was no going back.

"Keep a better eye on them Princess," he said, "Last thing I need is you burning my house down." She nodded and started to put out one or two more lights.

"Clarke?"

She stilled, her hand hovering over an unlit candle. She turned and looked at Bellamy, who was still standing in her doorway.

"Thank you."

That was all he said before walking out of the door. She stayed by the window and watched as he went down the porch steps. He disappeared into the Main Hall and then she let out a breath. It had felt good to tell someone about her guilt, about the things that haunted her. Bellamy had understood; it was nice to have a companion in that way. Clarke convinced herself that's all he was-a companion. But that didn't stop her from falling asleep to the memory of the way he said her name.