DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own The 100 or any of the characters; I do NOT own the poem "I carry your heart with me (I carry it in)" by E.E. Cummings

Beyond the Stars

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

i carry your heart with me (I carry it in); E.E. Cummings

They shouldn't have called it Earth. They should have called it Hell.

This is what Clarke Griffin is currently thinking as she trudges her way back towards the camp. It had been a long day: she had gone to replenish the stock of seaweed and look for some other herbs that might soothe a fever. She remembered studying them in class, but that felt like years ago. Still, she had hoped she would be able to find them, as they tended to stick towards the water banks. Unfortunately she had been unable to decipher the difference between healing plants and poisonous ones. Even after being on Earth for this short period, she already knew how dangerous making a simple mistake could be.

It's been a long day, and all she wants is to get back to camp. Odd really, since the reason she had decided to make this little trip was to get away. Things had been way too intense lately: first Finn had been stabbed, and then poisoned, and had almost died; not to mention torturing the Grounder. It's hard for her face not to go red with shame when she thinks about that. She should have been better than she was; Octavia shouldn't have been left to be the voice of reason.

But it was Finn, a voice in her head whispers.

Clarke scoffs at herself, lifting her leg above a particularly tall log. She doesn't even know what to think of Finn at the moment.

She can see the lights from the camp, but they're still a far away. Clarke sighs, shifting her bag over her shoulder. It's quite heavy, and in her tired state it manages to unbalance her. Unfortunately she steps on uneven ground (she's not used to walking on the real ground yet) and slips. She falls, rolling down a hill. Her hands grasp for something to hold onto – a root or rock or something – and for a horrible moment she worries that she will fall right off a cliff.

Thankfully she comes to a stop. Instead of getting up she stops on the ground, wanting to make sure she wasn't going to fall even further. A second later she hears the snap of a gun. She freezes; and then carefully says, "Who's that?"

An irritated sigh; "Nice entrance there Clarke. You totally couldn't be heard from half a mile away."

Clarke quickly pulls herself up when she realises who it is. Wiping her hands on her trousers, she comes face to face with Bellamy Blake. "Just needed to keep you on your toes." She glances round, but to her surprise he is on his own. They are standing in a small clearing, so open that it makes her anxious. As tiring as the dense forest can be, the clearing is too open for her liking. After all the Grounders can hit their target despite the surrounding trees. Behind them is the slope of grass; in front of them is just grass. No trees, caves, rocks – just a straight view of the mountains. "What are you doing here?"

"Dancing," he deadpans.

Clarke rolls her eyes and plants her feet, making it clear that she isn't going anywhere.

He sighs. "I just came out here to think." He gestures behind them, up towards the camp. "It's way too noisy up there."

She pauses for a moment as he sits, leaning against the slope. He's not quite lying on the ground; in fact he looks comfortable. Slowly, uncertainly, she goes towards him and sits down. Bellamy doesn't look at her, but she thinks he's surprised. "I want a bit of peace," she says.

He shrugs.

For a while the two of them just sit there. They don't try to talk to each other. In a way it's nice. Clarke doesn't feel the pressure of keeping up a stream of conversation. Bellamy may actually be one of the few people she actually feels comfortable around. She's not afraid to fight with him, to get her point across; and she's not afraid to be scared in front of him. He's probably seen both the best and the worst of her; and one of the people she's not terrified to show that to.

As the sky darkens – it had been twilight as she was walking, but now it's almost fully dark – she twitches. This catches his attention. "What is it?" he asks.

"Shouldn't we be heading back?"

Even though it's dark she can see Bellamy's smile. "Scared, Princess?"

"If the Grounders find us-"

"-I'll shoot them," he finishes. He sighs, pulling something out of his bag. He flicks it on and she recognises it as one of the torches from the drop ship. Provided they are left out in the sun they recharge from the light. At least the Ark left them something useful.

"It's better in the dark," he says.

"What's better?"

He shoots her another glance, this time incredulous. "This," he says, gesturing in front of them.

It's when Clarke sees it. She's been staring off into the distance for a while now, thinking, but her thoughts have kept her occupied. Now though, she looks. Above the mountains in the sky are dozens – no, hundreds of stars. They glitter in the sky like the most expensive diamonds in the world; like friends waving at them.

"What the hell were you looking at?" continues Bellamy.

She shakes her head. "I was just..." She trails off. "Do you come out here often?"

"Not really," he says, but he's hesitant and she knows he's lying. She doesn't understand why but she's not about to question it. She has her secret places too – she won't begrudge Bellamy his.

Her mind goes back to her conversation with Finn, right before Raven came down. "Do you believe stars grant wishes?"

"What is it with you?" asks Bellamy. "Wishing on stars... Let me guess, you believe in fairytales too?"

She snorts, remembering who she is talking to. "Forget it," she mutters, looking away from him.

She hears him sigh. "I think stars are...hopeful." Despite her annoyance at him she feels her curiosity peaked. Rarely does she get an insight into Bellamy's head. "Like no matter what happens to us on Earth, there is still something out there. Perhaps another planet where people like us exist, except they haven't ruined their home. My mom used to say-" He catches himself, and Clarke can see him pressing his lips closed.

And even though Clarke knows she should be respectful she says, "Your Mom?"

He lets out another sigh, like suddenly she's a waste of his time. "Nothing."

"It's-"

"Leave it, okay?" His voice is suddenly harsh, crueller than she's ever heard. It makes her voice catch in her throat.

After a few minutes though she begins to speak again. "When my dad died – I mean, when he was floated for wanting to tell everyone about the oxygen problem... I was upset." She lets out a tiny laugh. "Understatement of the century I know, but I couldn't be consoled. In a way solitary confinement was good for me. I could let out my feelings.

"I would cry all the time and then I would get mad. I was angry at everyone: my mom, Jaha was killing him, even my dad for letting himself get caught and killed. Wells took the brunt of it.

"Here's the thing though: anger's easier. It gives you something else to focus on, someone to blame. It stops you from letting yourself sink into grief. I suppose it's good in a way, but eventually you need to face it. Down here, it's strange but it's harder to ignore the memory of my dad down here."

She doesn't realise she's crying until she feels the tears dripping off her chin. "He used to sing all the time. Songs that would stick in your head for days and my mom and I would go mad at him, because of course we would have it in our heads too. And he loved building things, could even make a tiny house out a paper clips and gum. He loved football and couldn't sit still long enough to get through a chapter of a book. He cooked a lot though he wasn't very good at it, and he – he-"

Clarke breaks off. It's the longest she's ever gone speaking about her father. She wipes away her tears, worrying if Bellamy can see them. She's not sure she wants him to see her weakness. She likes him – trusts him, even, but there are still a few secrets she would like to keep from him.

"My mom was the strongest person I knew. When she found out she was pregnant – well, most women would have freaked out. But not her, or if she did, she never let me see it. She wanted another child. She went through childbirth with no help, no drugs. Just pure will. It was the scariest moment of my life, but my mom barely battered an eyelid. She just gritted her teeth and got on with it.

"She did whatever she needed to survive. She..." He pauses, and when he speaks again it's like his teeth are gritted. "She slept with the leader of the guard just so she knew when the inspections would be, maybe even get a few extra rations every now and then. But I-" His voice cracks and like lightening he stands, causing Clarke to jump. He begins to pace up and down in the grass, and Clarke can tell he's worked up.

"Bell," she begins.

"No," he half-snarls. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

She stands too. Her mind flashes back to what he said after they had killed Dax: My mother... If she knew what I had done, who I am... She raised me to be better, to be good. "You blame yourself, don't you?"

She can feel his eyes on her. "Of course I do. It was my fault. If I hadn't taken Octavia out that night, we would never have been caught-"

"Bellamy!" Clarke grabs his arm, nearly scared at the way his words trip over each other. She realises that this is it: the root of the root and the bud of the bud. This is what gets him the most. "Stop it! You can't think like that!"

"It's true!"

"No, it's not! Listen..." She grabs hold of him, with such strength that she manages to hold him. "When my dad died I blamed myself. If I hadn't told Wells-"

"But it's wasn't Wells Clarke; it was your mom's-"

"But I didn't know that. For almost a year I believed Wells was the one that told Jaha, and he wouldn't have known if I hadn't told him. I believed it was my fault that my dad died." She fights the onslaught of memories, the dull ache in her chest. "But we can't think like this Bellamy.

"If my father had never told my mom about it, or gone to the council, he could have told the people without anyone finding out, though he probably would have been killed anyway. But he could have made the decision not to do it at all.

"My dad wasn't an idiot. He knew what would happen. And as hard as it is, I have to accept it. It was his decision, and no one's fault but his own."

Bellamy has allowed her to speak. When she's finished he says in a low voice, "Your situation was different to mine Clarke."

"Yeah, it was even less your fault," she counters. "Do you honestly think you could have kept Octavia a secret forever? Someone would have found you out eventually. And Octavia would have gone mad, staying inside your apartment. She would have broken out sooner or later. One way or another someone would have found out about her. At least this way Octavia was too young to be floated too."

They are standing so close Clarke can see right into his eyes. And maybe she's wrong, but for a second she thinks she sees a flicker of something. Belief. That he's finally started to forgive himself, just a little, for what happened. That's he's finally beginning to let go.

She knows that it's deeper than that, that he still carries the guilt over those three hundred people. But one thing that she's learnt on the ground is that you deal with one problem at a time.

He whispers to her, a secret that nobody knows and everyone knows. "I miss her."

She finds herself pressing her lips together at his words, because she truly thinks if she opens her mouth she will cry. Instead she lifts her head to the sky, to the stars above them. Swallows. "Maybe there is something beyond the stars – up there."

"Like heaven?" Bellamy's mouth twists into a smile and Clarke feels something loosen in her chest. They're back to normal, whatever normal is for them.

"Yeah, well, why not?" she argues. "Some people, like my dad – he had such a big personality. I can't believe all of that is just gone."

She and Bellamy are still looking at the sky when he speaks a few minutes later, so she can't tell whether he has tears in his eyes. "Y'know Clarke," he murmurs, his voice full, "for once I hope you're right."

"Princess."

That voice is very close to her ear. She screws up her face, wondering why the voice is right in her ear and how to get it out.

"Princess, you've got to see this."

She opens her eyes and, with a little jolt in her chest, finds herself next to Bellamy. He backs away from her face a little; he had been leaning right over her. She meets his eyes and for a moment they don't look away. Bellamy's eyes are such a dark brown colour, about as clear as a muddy river, which means she can never read him. She's never quite sure what he is thinking, though usually when she tries she guesses right. Still she looks at him for assurance.

"Where are we?" she asks, her voice groggy from sleep.

Bellamy lifts a shoulder. "We fell asleep. Not a good idea – we've been sitting ducks for the Grounders." Still he manages a smile in her direction. "I thought you'd like to see the show."

She follows his gaze and gasps. She jumps to her feet, her eyes stretched to the sky. There a dozens of shooting stars grazing across the dark blue canvas right before their eyes. They flash by and Clarke thinks there can't possibly be any more, but sure enough others appear. She can feel the smile on her face, wider than it's been in over a year.

"It must be a meteor shower," she says. When Bellamy doesn't reply she glances back at him and, to her surprise, finds his eyes trained on her. As soon as she looks at him he immediately looks away, up at the sky.

"Well, you wanted your wish Princess," he says. "Go for it."

She gazes at him for a moment longer. "You too," she says, not a demand but a plea. She looks back at the sky and makes her wish, though she can't bring herself to close her eyes.

Clarke apologises to Finn when she gets back for scaring him, though she can't quite bring herself to mean it.

She doesn't tell him what happened.

A/N: So this meant to be a little one-shot about Clarke and Bellamy looking at the stars – as you can see, it turned out to be a lot deeper and more serious than that. But writing this made me realise that Clarke and Bellamy are a lot similar in the sense that they both hold a carry a lot of guilt with them, particularly Bellamy. I think that may be linked to why they both assume roles as leaders.

Again, I am not sure about this one-shot. It turned out a bit messier than I wanted, but my head has been buzzing with Bellarke stories and I CAN'T KEEP THEM IN. So please let me know what you think!

Thank you for reading!