"Some things just can't be put back together. Some things can never be fixed. Two broken pieces can't make a lot of anything anymore. But at least he had the broken pieces."

― Jamie Ford

As Clarke trudged nervously back through the gates she had denied herself access to so long ago, her heart raced in apprehension of the greeting she was to be met with. Her skin tingled and goose bumps formed immediately as she felt the wary stares of all those who witnessed her enter... they didn't know what to do and neither did she. Honestly she did not know how they should react, or how they would as in turn she could not fathom what she herself should do, instead she allowed her feet to guide her slowly inside as her eyes scanned the camp. She let herself be occupied by idle thoughts of what had changed, what hadn't trying in earnest to quell the nausea that was churning within her gut. The feeling that she shouldn't be here... she shouldn't have come back.

Her intense resolve to distract herself from the violent storm of thoughts and emotions that were sweeping her into the depths of no return was interrupted by the cry of her name. Their exclamation of surprise cutting through the soft breeze that played with the tendrils of her hair, and resounding loudly within the silence she had been met with. Her eyes sought out Monty running towards her, with Jasper following at a slower and more reluctant pace, a look of confusion and hurt sculpting his boyish features just so. The edge of Clarke's lips curled ever so slightly, a smile of relief that someone had breached the vast awkward silence that had engulfed her on her arrival, a smile of happiness at that someone being him,

"Clarke you're back... that's... great!" His voice was light with excitement, but breathy with the exertion of his sprint towards her, as he placed his arms around her in a welcoming embrace. She allowed his arms to wrap around her, her limbs however refused to return the welcome as they hung limply by her sides. It wasn't that she didn't want to return his show of affection; it was that she didn't know if she should... and with the pained gaze of Jasper boring into her it was plain that she should not. She wasn't welcome here. Not anymore.

Octavia heard the mutterings and broken whispers that had travelled around the camp and her features had immediately hardened and soured at the thought that Clarke had dared to show her face again. Beneath those coarse layers of contempt was laid an emotion she feared far more than her rage, the feeling of hope and relief that she was okay, she was alive. Clarke was back, but she didn't want to be glad about it.

Glancing at the exit of the tent, she finally gave in to her curiosity allowing her feet to lead her outside her eyes immediately falling upon the figure of her former leader, comrade and... friend. It was then she felt his presence, the tension and anger that had bound itself so tightly to him tugging at his resolve in a bid to be unleashed upon the reappearance of Clarke. Bellamy proceeded to stride forward, purpose in his gait and determination in his deep brown eyes, glinting and shimmering with adrenaline and a wrath ready to be released. Catching up to him she strode beside him, her tone low and hushed but laced with warning as she spoke to him, glancing at his severe expression,

"Bellamy... don't, not here and not now..." His gaze remained fixed on the form of Clarke, who stood looking listless despite her imposing and commanding aura, her features indeed displayed a look of shame and uneasiness at her being there. He replied his tone low, but brimming readily with the strength of caged fury,

"I've waited long enough." As they approached their returned fallen leader, a crowd had gathered behind them, following the promise of something worth seeing and the intrigue of Clarke's return. Monty and Jasper backed into the crowd, leaving Clarke to stand alone in front of a sea of wounded souls and withered faces.

Clenching her fists she sought all the courage she could find within her, willing herself to look into the eyes of the man who had forgiven her, who had done so much to help and protect her. The man she had left behind. His charming features were void of that endearing smirk she had envisioned so many times, his eyes absent of the care and concern that had caused her heart to clench in a bid to control the emotions that had yearned to consume her. The visions of her past were gone now, ripped apart and contaminated the moment she had turned her back and walked.

The moment her gaze met his, every fibre of his being tightened and stiffened, his teeth clenched together as he felt his mind take him back to the memory he had so wanted to forget. The touch of her lips on his skin, a promise that she would return but that right now all he had done to aid her... it had been for nought. His belief in her had not been enough, his forgiveness unable to convince her of her rightful place... beside him. For a long time his mind had replayed the memories of that day, at first he had damned himself for not trying harder, his thoughts trying in earnest to think of the words he could and should have said to convince her to stay. Had he said something wrong? Had he made it worse? But over time his thoughts had changed, the belief that he had done all he could throughout their time as leaders to aid her role and responsibilities had strengthened. Yet when it had come to the final fall, she had bailed on him, leaving him with the aftermath of all that had occurred. He was angry. Angry that she had valued his companionship and support as nothing... he had meant nothing.

The silence between them was deafening as they stood before each other, a mere meter apart, with the eyes of everyone present bearing down on them in apprehension of their first words. Glancing at Octavia, Bellamy managed to communicate that despite his feelings right now he would adhere to his sisters warning, now was not the time... not here. With a slight nod of his head, Octavia moved towards Clarke placing herself right in front of her, the wish to intimidate and belittle her so clear and concise, as she sternly hushed,

"Follow us." Clarke nodded silently in agreement before following the Blake siblings through the hordes of people who had gathered around, now severely disappointed by the lack of drama and murmuring among themselves on the possible reasoning of her return and the potential fate she would now meet.

As they closed upon camp headquarters, what once was the Ark, their journey was halted by the arrival of none other than Abby Griffin. Her voice uttered the only single word she could fathom; her tone strained and embellished liberally with disbelief and solace at her daughters return,

"Clarke..." As Clarke's eyes fell upon her mother, she could not deny the pang of anguish and uneasiness that plunged into her chest at full force. Her mother was sat in a wheelchair. Her lips could no longer hold her tongue, as tears formed in her eyes and she exhaled an exclamation of sheer sorrow,

"Mom..." Jackson pushed the chair forward, allowing Abby's yearning grasp to envelope her daughter's hand, tears of joy cascading down her cheeks as she revelled in her daughters presence,

"You're here, you're really here." The heartfelt and emotional welcome of her mother did not provide her with the comfort and reprieve she had predicted, in fact it made her more uncomfortable than the cold front that Bellamy and Octavia had greeted her with. Happiness within this world she had learnt was short lived, and a considerable amount of time what preceded it was much more damaging than the initial beautiful moment of euphoria. The relationship she held with her mother had been incredibly difficult, and despite the passing of time she soon felt the sting of the scars that reminded her of all their troubles. The betrayals and lies a reminder that they were far from the happy family they had been on the Ark. That was long gone now.

At that thought Clarke dispelled of the hurricane of emotions that had ripped and torn at the boundaries that held her composure just so, and so flatly she replied,

"I have to go." Removing her hand from her mother's she turned back around to follow Bellamy inside HQ, adamantly ignoring the torn and broken expression that now adorned her mother's face rendering her completely speechless. She would not allow the fantasy and expectations of being reunited with her mother overcome her, she would not excuse Abby of all her prior sins... wheelchair bound or not. What had been had been, and what was now was real... brutally real.

On entering the remnants of the Ark, Clarke followed Bellamy through the corridors to a private conference room, Octavia close behind. The silence that had befallen them all weighed heavy, but reverberated with the fizzing energy of suppressed rage, silently telling Clarke that what was to come was no welcome party. The definite close of the door echoed around the room as Bellamy stopped in the middle of the room, before turning around to address the woman who had haunted him for so long now. Before he could utter a single word however, Octavia broke the silence, her tone growling with the essence of simmering fury,

"How fucking dare you come back here..." Octavia's finger pressed accusingly into Clarke's chest, as she glared at her in a manner that communicated clearly the disgust and resentment she felt at her reappearance,

"... You thought you could keep your innocent little hands clean, but you're just as bad as all the so called monsters and savages you feared." Bellamy's head and shoulders sunk towards the floor, but he did not interrupt, allowing the words of venom to spill oh so eloquently from his sister's lips. Clarke kept her gaze firmly forward, allowing the pernicious speech to continue, enduring the pain, hate and indignation that had clearly festered within Octavia,

"Cowering behind your mask of strength, you were ready to bolt as soon as you had to take some fucking responsibility for what you did... you're pathetic!" With a sharp powerful explosion of resentment Octavia struck Clarke across the face causing the latter to stumble and flail in the aftermath. Immediately Bellamy bolted over, grasping his sister's shoulders jerking her away in an assertive manner that indicated this was not acceptable, his rough voice rang out, commanding and firm,

"No." With a glance of contempt at the crumpled form of her once mighty leader, Octavia spat out one last threat,

"You're lucky Bell is here, because believe me princess that would have been just a tip of the iceberg." Clarke's fingers kneaded the reddened flesh on her cheek in a bid to soothe the stinging that had spread along her jaw and along the side of her face. She had deserved that.

Octavia's outburst however clearly did not adhere to the wishes of Bellamy, and despite his ability to allow it to occur initially something told him that it did not solve anything. Managing to convince Octavia to leave the room was indeed a struggle but after a few stern words and glares of disapproval she had adhered to his command. Bestowing his gaze back upon Clarkes face, he could not ignore the red mark and the becoming bruise that now flushed her cheek so vividly. Despite the contempt and resentment he held for Clarke, he found it hard to take in the view of his sister's blow and equally struggled to fight off the admiration he held at the way she had taken the hit. Not many people could withstand the wrath of Octavia and take it with the calm composure that Clarke had displayed so easily. Her current expression gave no clue to her inner thoughts or feelings, with her lips pursed in a straight-line and her eyes lacking any show of emotion, he realised she was simply waiting. Waiting for him.

"Why are you here?" His rich tone lacked any emotion; his delivery flat and passive but she could read plainly the tension he held within his muscles, the tension that told her beneath him was a rage that could equal his sisters. A rage he was willing to conceal... for now. Finding her voice she spoke honestly,

"I guess I learnt just because I wasn't here, didn't mean I had escaped the reminders of what happened... of what I did." A wry smirk embellished his lips as he scoffed loudly, a mocking chuckle spilling from his lips before he locked his eyes on her. The hurt and anger that pooled their, reached down into her throat before latching on to her heart, tugging in a manner that caused a discomfort she had become increasingly used to,

"It took you this long to figure that out? Jesus princess you really aren't as smart as I thought." That hurt. A hell of a lot more than she thought it would, not that he hadn't said his fair share of disparaging comments but that had been before, that had been when they had shared their contempt for one another gladly. Her tone was calm, controlled however her demeanour conceded to his control, little fight remained in her at this moment,

"I know... I regret a hell of a lot of decisions I made but I have to live with them now." Immediately she realised that her choice of words were wholly inappropriate, as she saw his jaw clench and his muscles stiffen. Pacing towards her he placed himself right in front of her, the scent of him invading her space in a manner that not too long ago she would have welcomed. However the nature of the occasion told her that now was not the time to indulge in childish fantasies, as a wave of disappointment at her own idiocy consumed her. Through gritted teeth and a vehement attempt to quell his animosity, he replied,

"A brilliant revelation, absolutely fucking brilliant..." Her shoulders sunk in defeat as she called out to him,

"Bellamy... please I..."

"What? You're sorry are you? I tried to share the burden of our decisions for not just the sake of our people, but for your sake too. I gave you my forgiveness, because you once had the courtesy to give me yours... and I accepted it willingly, but you... my forgiveness was not enough." The silence that followed his words lay thick in the air, the weight of his words permeating every corner of the room whilst also the absence of others stripped bare the wounds that had been hidden for so long...

I wasn't enough.

The anguish that he had managed to suppress for so long, had managed to break through the mask he had used to conceal the true nature of the damage done. The crease in his brow and the furled pout of his lips displayed the true extent of the effect everything that had come to pass had truly imparted. Clarke felt immediately pained by this discovery, the implications of his words suggesting she felt his guidance was empty of meaning or worth of any kind and would serve no purpose for her. Her voice gained strength and volume as she desperately wanted to communicate that his suggestions were far from the truth,

"No... no that was never the case. I needed you there and you did and said everything right..." No longer able to listen to her words and unable to contain and withhold the fury that had simmered beneath him for so long burst forth, in an explosion of forced and shouted words,

"DID I CLARKE? Because if I had would you have left? I've made a lot of mistakes but if roles were reversed I would never have left you to deal with everything on your own. I've done a bunch of shitty things Clarke, but I'm still here because running away doesn't solve anything." In his fit of passionate words and fury he had placed himself even closer to Clarke, his face only a mere few inches from hers staring deep into her enchanting azure eyes trying vehemently to see sense in the decisions she made... trying desperately to understand. God he wanted to understand, he wanted to know despite every instinct within him warning him that he really didn't because it might not be what he wanted to hear. Her lips tightened and pursed together, causing the pleasing rose colour of her lips to temporarily flush white with the pressure, as her gaze fixed on his before she spoke. Her voice was strong and unwavering, and it seemed to be the first time since she had returned that she truly felt confident in what she said,

"I guess it was my turn to do something shitty." A barely audible gasp of surprise escaped from Bellamy's lips as he raised his eye brows in disbelief, for there were many answers he thought she would have said... that wasn't one of them. With his fingers combing through his tousled curls, he staggered away from her his eyes wandering around the room, looking anywhere but her... because in all honesty he didn't know what to do or what to say, he was trying earnestly to find the answer. The answer to all of this... to them. The noticeable effect her words had on him invigorated Clarke with a new strength and confidence amid an all consuming feeling of guilt and self-loathing. She remained where she stood, the dull light picking out the mere outline of her figure and features, capturing the daring glint the blazed within her eyes,

"I don't know what to say to justify what I did... I was selfish and... scared... scared that I had become the type of person I swore I wouldn't be." Looking over her Bellamy observed how her hair had grown longer, cascading in luscious waves towards her waist whilst her figure had indeed become slighter, but now held the definition and tone of well worked muscles. After all this time she had changed so much but also so little, he could hardly pin point exactly where the old Clarke was and the new one began, it was unnerving. What was more unnerving for Bellamy above everything, beneath the layers of anguish, pain and anger over her decision to leave was the underlying fact he had missed her, irrevocably. Her presence, he had to acknowledge, had brought out the best in him, had taught him his flaws whilst also proving and highlighting the power and quality of his strengths. Their unlikely partnership had worked in a manner he could never have predicted, their opposing views of the world allowing them both to think and evaluate the real best course of action, moulding them into the best leaders and people they could possibly be. She had become an integral part of his life here, she had become a part of him... she was the best part of him. Finally allowing his gaze to meet her eyes again, she noted how his features softened and his dark eyes gleamed and glistened with the soft twinkle of care, as he gently said,

"You're exactly the person you should be Clarke... you, and that's all you ever needed to be." His words were far from forgiveness, his wounds were not healed and his anger far from quelled but it was a start, a start that Clarke swore she wouldn't walk away from... not this time.