Set after the events of 3x16. Before leaving Polis, Clarke tries to find a moment of silence from the others and Bellamy follows.

Weakly, Clarke pushed open the doors to what had once been Lexa's chambers.

Ontaria must have been living in here since…since she had died, but Clarke didn't want to think about that. Honestly, Clarke didn't want to think about anything. She wanted, just for once, for her mind to be completely devoid of any thought and feeling. Silence. She wanted complete and utter silence. And to wash her face off, hence her being here to begin with.

She had been reluctant to enter the bedroom at all but she knew Lexa (and hopefully Ontaria) always kept a large basin of water stored in the back.

The last time she had been here, she and Lexa had been wrapped up in each other, concerned about nothing else but each other's smiles and kisses. Even now Clarke could see the two of them clearly on the bed, and her heart beat both elatedly and painfully at the memory.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus. Water. She was here for water. Not that she cared much about her hygiene at the moment (it was a luxury you learned to live without on the ground), but she couldn't bear to walk all the way to Arcadia with Ontari's black blood smeared down her face. All she wanted to do was scrub it away and she would be fine. Everyone else was preoccupied at the moment anyway, waking up from Ali's control and coming to terms with the acts they had committed. Her mother still trembled when she touched her and Kane could barely look Bellamy in the eye. Jaha had yet to move from the corner of the room where he had sat himself down, starring blankly at the wall.

Clarke quickly walked to where she knew the basin was kept and near wept in joy seeing it still there and thankfully full. The water was murky, at best, and of course the tepid temperature of the room but she could care less. She just needed the black off now.

"Wondering where you wandered off to."

Clarke looked over her shoulder to see Bellamy enter the room. He looked as tired as her, as bloody too, but at least the streaks on his face where a natural red and, well, his.

"Sorry," She mumbled and turned back toward the basin. "I just-I needed to wash this off my face. I'll be done in a second." But she then realized she had no clothe to do the job. Well, her hands would have to do.

"Hey," Bellamy's large hands grabbed her own before they plunged into the water. "Wait a second." He reached for the bottom of his jacket and, without a seconds thought, ripped off a generous piece of it. Clarke's protest died on her lips he did it so quickly, but she huffed as he dipped it into the water.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Oh, because it's my favorite jacket right? I think the dirt and blood already ruined it, this actually might be an improvement."

"Tears in your clothing? Really?"

"I hear the kids think it's cool."

"Why do you always make yourself sound like you're forty?"

"Cause I feel like it most the time."

"You and me both."

The both grew silent at that, the brief and light moment ending just as quick as it began. Clarke frowned, matching the one Bellamy now wore, and wondered if there would ever be a time where their conversation didn't veer off into the dark and depressing. "I-"

"It's fine," He interjected, apparently not wishing to talk about these things as much as her. He instead raised up the now wet rag. "Just hold still for a second."

"Bellamy you don't have to-"

"It's fine Clarke-"

"No, really-"

"Just shut up for a second and sit still, Princess. Geeze."

She acquiesced with an eye roll. Really, she only gave in because he had called her that-Princess. He hadn't called her that in so long. No one had really. She didn't realize how much she missed it until now. It was much better than the bitter Wanheda he had recently directed at her.

The moment the rag touched her cheek, Clarke's eyes slid shut and she leaned into Bellamy's touch. He was so gentle with her, a large contrast from the strength she knew he was capable of. This was the Bellamy people rarely ever saw. This was the boy who raised his sister, who liked mythology, cared about his people with every fiber in his being, who really had a heart of gold but had to constantly hide it due to the horrid world they lived in.

The rag slid seamlessly against her skin, washing away the muck that was there. Whenever the skin of Bellamy's palm brushed against her she couldn't help but sigh, enjoying the warmth of him and the comfort he was expelling.

"You deserve a break," Bellamy whispered, swiping the rag against her hairline.

Eyes still closed, Clarke replied, "So do you."

"You still owe me a drink."

"Well, there's no chance of me not coming back to Arcadia with you this time."

"Happy to hear."

She blinked one eye open to look at him. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere this time Bellamy."

His hand stopped his ministrations and Bellamy let his fingers reach past the rag, cupping her cheek with the wet clothe between them. She couldn't help but lean into that as well.

"I believe you." Idly, his thumb stroked her chin.

While they always seemed to fall into these intimate situations, this one felt like….like something more than the others. Like something was right there, waiting to be realized and touched upon.

But it wasn't the time.

Not with the end of the world apparently right on their doorstep. Not with so many of their friends and family broken and traumatized. Not while she was in Lexa's bedroom and the wound from her death was still fresh and hurting.

"Here," Clarke reached up, squeezing his hand before taking the rag. "Your turn."

Bellamy looked like he was about to protest but she gave him a silencing look. He was quiet as she began to clean his face, wiping away the blood and being careful not open any of the cuts and scrapes there. Clarke began to feel a little nervous as he kept his eyes open and trained on her, and it was obvious he was thinking about something very seriously.

"What is it?" She asked when her nerves finally got to her.

Bellamy darted his eyes down to the ground. "Nothing."

"It's obviously nothing."

"No, really, it's stupid-"

"So it is something if it's stupid. Just tell me."

"I was just…" Bellamy licked his cracked lips. "Just looking at your hair. It's so long now and it made me think about the first time I saw you-it was in a braid. And then I thought you haven't done your hair like that since, well, that first week on the ground and-"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously? You're thinking that hard about how I do my hair?"

Bellamy glared at her. "I told you it was stupid"

"No, I know, it's just," She giggled again, dropping her hands into her lap and bowing over a little. "I must look like shit right now Bellamy."

Seeing she wasn't exactly laughing at him, Bellamy allowed himself to grin. "You're a little better without the black blood."

"Still!"

He shrugged. "What? Looking like shit for us is looking normal. I barely notice anymore."

"Idiot," Clarke said good naturedly and rose to her feet. "Come on, we should get back to the others."

Bellamy got up and followed after her but stopped just shy of the doorway. Clarke looked at him curiously, and Bellamy shuffled on his feet for a second before asking, "This was her room, wasn't it? Lexa's?"

Clarke swallowed thickly, her eyes again darting towards the bed, and silently nodded her head.

"You know how I feel about her but I also know how you feel about her. And I'm sorry Clarke. For her passing. I just wanted to say that."

It was not an easy thing to say and Clarke knew better than anyone how Bellamy felt about the fallen Commander. Her death probably didn't soften those feelings either but for him to say that, to bother to even care and notice, it meant a lot.

"Thank you," She whispered, giving him a small but grateful smile.

He nodded his head and continued on, grabbing her hand as they went out into the hallway.

That was a new thing between them. Ever since she had reached for him before she entered the City of Light and then he continued it when he helped her stand up from the throne. Clarke found she liked it rather much and apparently Bellamy did too for he didn't drop the embrace, even when they reentered the throne room.

No one even seemed to bat an eye at it.

A new thing and hopefully one that would stay.