Chapter Text
The med bay was flooding with injured citizens. It had been two weeks since the war on the Mountain Men had been won, and the 47, locked up grounders and Bellamy had been released and Clarke, Abby and all of the nurses were struggling to keep up with the treatments. Ever since Bellamy had regained the strength in his arms and legs, he'd been shadowing Clarke, helping her treat the others who needed it. They were currently in the middle of repositioning Roza's shoulder. She had been climbing a tree and fell out, or so she says.
"Bell," Clarke said softly, wary around her second. "Hold her still as I do this." He nodded in response, rarely speaking since being released. He held the young girl in place. "OK, Roza, this is going to hurt." Roza's shattered scream echoed through medical, putting all of the mountain refugees' teeth on edge. Clarke bit through the noise and tied her into a sling. "Now don't use that arm for a few days then cone back and see me." Roza walked out the door, and Clarke turned to Bellamy with a look in her eyes that said "you're next."
"Clarke..." he whispered, becoming annoyed with the blonde princess. She had checked over him three times a day since his return. He understood that she was worried, but the others should have been her priority. "Sit." He did as she asked, never being able to refuse her. Clarke's hands grazed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up so that he could see his stomach. The old white scars contrasted against his tanned skin and red newer ones. No matter how many times she saw them, she could never help holding her breath.
"Clarke!" The shrill voice cut through the room, and the two co-leaders turned to face Abby, who was staring angrily at them. "Stop checking over Bellamy Blake every five minutes and help someone else for a change! You need to stop being so selfish." Clarke flinched slightly, to anyone other than Bellamy it would have been undetectable, but he knew her better than anyone. She dropped her hands from his torso, and stormed outside without a word. Bellamy however, couldn't contain his rage as he sauntered over to where the chancellor was standing and glared into her eyes.
"You can think whatever the hell you want about me Griffin." He growled lowly, his fists promptly clenching then unclenching. "But don't you ever call Clarke selfish. Ever."
Running out the door, he went to find Clarke. It didn't take long, after he checked her tent, he realized that there was only one other place that she would be.
Raven's fence.
He saw her figure curled up into a ball, obviously trying to hide her tears, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Bellamy moved to stand beside her, not saying a word. She lifted her golden head.
"Was I really being selfish?" Clarke asked, her voice small, her entire demeanor crumbling. This was Clarke. The girl who burned 300 grounders alive, and still managed to solidify an alliance with them. This was the girl who had done everything for her people. "Don't tell me you believe her." Bellamy replied, sitting down next to her. "She knows nothing." "But she called me selfish for helping you." Clarke whispered, clenching her hands. "I've always been selfish with you. You wouldn't be in recovery if you I wasn't selfish." Tears came again and she furiously wiped at her eyes.
“Don't say that.” He told her. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I suggested it.” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, winced as she lay her head on his chest. “It wasn't your fault.” They stayed in silence for a few moments, just listening to the buzz of the electric fence.
“Why do you stay in medical?” She asked, breaking the quiet atmosphere. “You are well enough to stay in your own tent and rest. But you stay.” Her blue eyes gazed into his and she awaited his reply. Bellamy was silent, his cheeks turning pink as he avoided eye contact.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” He chirped, his right hand picking at blades of grass.
“There has to be a reason.”
“Not everything is about you and your annoyingly beautiful face Princess.” He snapped, momentarily hitting himself for the slip up.”
“You think I'm beautiful?” Clarke cracked a smile, still staring at him.
“Well-I-uh...” He got flustered, and his breath shallow. “You know you're gorgeous, alright?” He grinned his lopsided grin at her and sighed. “And since Octavia is training with Indra, the only people I care about are in medical. Even if they don't care back.”
“Of course they care back!” Clarke exclaimed, balling her fist in his shirt. “Monty, Jasper and Miller. Monroe, and Harper if she ever wakes up...” She stopped, and his heart ached, knowing the answer he wanted wasn't the one he would get. “Me.”
Bellamy looked up abruptly, looking at her blue eyes that were swimming with emotion. “Do you mean that?” She nodded. He smiled. He raised his arm to lace his fingers through her hair and pulled her face to his. Her chapped lips brushed against his; they tasted of salt and art, they fit perfectly together. Her cheek was soft against his neck as they broke apart, now they just stayed in their embrace refusing to move.
“Bellamy?”
“Yeah?”
“Don't let me let you leave again.” He smiled against the top of her head, slowly pressing his lips to her hair.
“Never, Princess.”