Chapter Text
Clarke was fucking pissed. Despite her protests and her pleas of getting him to stay with her, Bellamy went off on some hunting party with Miller, Harper, and one of the other delinquents. That was six hours ago, and not even a single radio call to check in.
She was so pissed that she didn’t even realize how hard she was pulling on Raven’s set of stitches across her forearm until the other woman scowled. “Ease up a little, doc,” Raven mumbled. It pulled Clarke from her thoughts enough for the tension to drop from her shoulders and to bite her lip as she finished.
As soon as the last stitch was in place and there was a quiet snip as the line broke off, Clarke heard voices from outside the medbay. About damn time, she thought as she quickly cleaned up her station and hustled outside towards the front gates. There was a group forming around the entrance but she quickly pushed her way through. Miller had a burlap sack slung over his shoulder, while Harper and the other boy carried turkeys in each hand. Despite the upcoming seasonal change, today’s hunt was a good one.
For some reason, though, the queasiness that was sitting in Clarke’s stomach didn’t fade. She still hadn’t seen Bellamy and while everyone else was already discussing the different ways of roasting the turkeys for tonight's dinner, she was still waiting for her co-leader to appear.
A solid minute and a half later, she watches him with crossed arms over her chest as he drags himself through the gates. He offers a smile, but she just cocks her head off to the side as if to say Are you fucking kidding me right now?
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Come on, princess. You have to admit I made the right call today. You don’t get to be pissed. I caught most of what they carried in,” he points out, but she just shakes her head. Her arms fall to the side and for a moment she thinks about fighting him for leaving her today. But today was exhausting , having to burden the weight of the entire camp on her shoulders, somehow splitting her time between both the medbay and whatever projects and assignments Bellamy normally takes care of, as well as providing assistance to any of the kids and making sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to be doing.
“I’m not pissed,” she deflects. Clarke was definitely pissed but…
“I’m hurt,” she admits, in a quieter tone that she hadn't truly meant to say.
That catches Bellamy’s attention and his entire face changes, but she turns away. Clarke’s about to walk off when she mumbles, “Do whatever the hell you want, Bellamy. That’s what you always do anyways.”
“Clarke,” he says immediately, reaching for her. His hand catches her upper arm, but she recoils.
“No. I’m not doing this here.”
Bellamy huffs something among the lines of ‘why can’t you ever let anything be easy, princess’ but drags her to the medbay. Clarke reluctantly follows, not really having a choice, she knows, because Bellamy isn’t the type of person to just allow the conversation to drop like that.
“What the hell is your problem, Clarke?” He asks once they’re in the medbay, the closest thing to privacy that they’ll get nowadays. His voice is softer, more open and vulnerable now that they’re by themselves. There's no teasing, and if she wasn't so worked up she would note the genuine concern.
But she doesn't.
“What’s my problem?! What the hell is your problem, Bellamy?!” Her voice is rising and judging by Bellamy’s facial expression he certainly didn’t expect this to turn into one of their infamous screaming matches. “I’m not the one that ventures off into grounder territory every chance I get! I’m not the one who thinks that since the grounders said I can’t do it, I have to go and prove myself to everyone that I can do it, and fight whoever gets in the way! I’ve been doing nothing but try to keep us alive, and that includes at peace with said grounders!--”
“So you’re on their side? We should just pack up and move somewhere else, despite this being our home?! You realize that I’ve been keeping us alive too, princess,” and it’s practically a snarl. He hasn’t said her nickname with that much venom since the first time they got within two feet of another, “you’re not always the badass hero you think you might be.”
“This isn’t about sides--”
“I can’t believe you, Clarke. What’s next, you gonna lock me up? Put Miller and Harper on Guard duty with me as their post to make sure I can’t le--”
“YOU COULD’VE DIED!” Her face is red and her hands are in the air and she is screaming. His entire face goes slack. His jaw falls open a little bit and she can see his tongue dart out quickly to lick his chapped lips.
The silence is deafening.
She takes a step closer, a small shake of her head. Clarke lowers her voice, and she can’t quite meet his eyes, but she knows how she must look to him. Desperate, a clear plead in her own eyes. She watches his Adam’s apple bobble. “You could’ve died,” she whispers. And I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose you. “The peace treaties haven’t settled yet, and you know damn well that we are not leaving this place, this… our home ,” she amends. “And those boundaries can only do so much for so long...” Clarke fights off a shudder.
“I could have lost you. So if you want to make this about sides...” A pause. She can feel Bellamy’s eyes burning into hers, but she still hasn’t made contact. Clarke licks her lips as she chases the flame of courage to allow her to finish this difficult proclamation.
Because that’s what it is, isn’t it?
“I’m on whatever side keeps you alive.” She finally looks up and makes eye contact with him, and immediately regrets it. Her eyes start to tear up and she hisses at herself, raising an arm to wipe at her eyes angrily, as if they betrayed her. But when she lowers her arm, allowing it to dangle at her side again, Bellamy is closer and pulling her in for an embrace.
His arms are wrapped firmly around her frame and he buries his face into the crook of her neck. It startles Clarke, only for a moment, but then she sinks into the hug and allow the tears to come.
“You don’t have to worry about losing me, princess,” he mumbles into her hair as he strokes soothing patterns across her back.
“I’m not going anywhere.”