Bellamy ushered Clarke into the clear space, she was no longer screaming. However her anger seeped through her unyielding blue eyes. His eyes turned to her hand, bleeding from where she had been bit; she didn't seem to have noticed. She lowered herself onto the floor and rested her head in her arms. Clarke looked exhausted, worn out to the brink of her sanity and it showed.

He didn't know whether to speak, or what to say. The world was crashing and burning around them, yet he had lost the energy to fight. He had given all he had to this world, and it wasn't enough. It had all gone so wrong. Even if he could go back; he wasn't sure where he would begin to try and pick up the pieces of the mess he had created.

His friends thought he was the enemy and Octavia hated him. Clarke, he didn't even know what Clarke thought of him anymore. She had always seen the best in him and he had failed to see the best in her when she had come begging for help.

It hadn't gone unnoticed that the rest of them shunned her as much as they had shunned him. She hadn't been forgiven for leaving. The irony shone clear, the 100 had once depended on Clarke and himself to the extent that they had followed them into battle without hesitation. They had come so far form what they once wore. Friendships that had been forged through blood and death, ripped apart by a few bad decisions.

He felt slightly bitter about his friends judging them. Everything Clarke and him had done, right or wrong had been for them. They had sacrificed their souls to do what they thought was right. When it had all gone wrong they had been thrown aside. They could have easily left them to their own devices, seen how well they would have coped with the burden of surviving.

He came back down to earth; he had been doing this more and more often. Zoning out. He guessed his thoughts were easier to deal with then the reality they were in. Clarke hadn't moved. Bellamy hadn't forgiven her but he couldn't ignore the blood trickling out of her. He pulled out some bandages from the emergency pack that lay in corner and moved towards her.

"Give me your hand, you're bleeding".

Clarke looked up, tears streaming from her face as she wordlessly stuck out her hand for Bellamy.

"I'm sorry"

It was barely a whisper, but he heard it. Her blue eyes staring deeply into his, trying to find someone she once knew.

"I'm sorry too Clarke" Bellamy sighed; he secured the bandage and sat down besides her, no longer concerned about keeping his distance.

"We really screwed everything up, didn't we" Clarke sighed bitterly.

"We did the best we could"

"I don't even know how to ask for forgiveness anymore" Clarke muttered, as she rested her head onto Bellamys' shoulder.

"I think you have a better shot at getting it them me" Bellamy chuckled humorlessly.
"I crossed all the lines that should never be crossed"

"Maybe we can start by forgiving ourselves," Clarke said after a moment of silence, her voice laced with a hint of hope.

Bellamy wrapped his arm around her tiny figure and pulled her close. The intimacy gave him the comfort he so desperately needed. Clarke froze for a moment before she melted into his arms. The world outside faded away for a split second.

"Do you really think we can beat Allie?"

"Princess we've bought down grounders and a mountain. A psychotic hallucination should be easy by this point"

"How do we do it" Clarke said, her voice more determined.

"Together"

"Together"

They sat enveloped in each others comfort and warmth for a moment more before they emerged. Once again they were ready to take on the world. Together.