Clarke kept her back to camp as she walked towards the woods, she knew if she glanced behind her and caught Bellamy giving her that look she would turn back. She'd walked away from him too many times to count now. She still felt guilty about sending him into Mount Weather alone, without so much as a "be safe". Lexa had convinced her that caring for others was a fault, Clarke realized now how idiotic that notion had been. Putting on a tough face and putting the people she loved the most in danger had done nothing but hurt her in the end. She tried to ignore the feeling of Bellamy's eyes on her back.

She stared at her feet as she walked and counted the twigs she stepped on. She wasn't going to think about Mount Weather, she wasn't going to think about the bodies that would never be buried, she wasn't going to think about the children that had become unexpected casualties, she wasn't going to think about the people who had helped hers, whom she'd thanked by sucking the air from their lungs, she wasn't going to think about Maya, she wasn't going to think about President Wallace. Stop it. She shook herself and the thoughts from her head.

She'd counted 147 twigs on the ground before her feet stopped propelling her forward. She looked around, wondering where she'd wound up.

"Of course," She muttered to herself with a shake of her head. Her feet had led her straight to the bunker Finn had found, the "Art Store", he'd called it. At least there's a bed, she thought to herself. She moved towards the door, she could sleep there for the night. Her hand froze as she touched the handle. She had forgotten about the body of the grounder that lay inside of it, the one Finn had killed while he was trying to find her, the grounded that had tricked him into killing 18 other people. That blood was on Clarke's hands, just like the rest of it was.

Her breath started to come in quicker spurts and her heart started to pound so hard she could feel it in her head. Clarke yanked her hand from the door and clutched it to her chest. She would've collapsed if it hadn't been for her adrenaline kicking in. She turned and ran faster than she ever had, faster than she thought she could. She ran until her vision started to blur and her legs gave out. She landed on the hard ground with a thud, the grass providing little cushion.

Clarke put her shaking hands over her face, and finally let the sobs roll from her body. She cried over Finn and Wells, she cried over the rest of the 100 that she hadn't been able to protect, she cried over the villagers at Tondc that she had sacrificed so the mountain men wouldn't find out about Bellamy, and she cried over the innocent lives that had been lost when she pulled that lever in Mount Weather.

After what seemed like hours Clarke managed to sit up. Her panic had subsided, but she didn't feel much better. It was starting to get dark and she needed to get some place safe. She didn't have to fear the mountain men anymore and she doubted grounders would cause her a problem, still, there were the reapers and if the gorilla and black leopard had been any indication of the wildlife in this area Clarke wanted to be surrounded by sturdy walls and a door.

She managed to stand and got her bearings. The setting sun had turned the world a deep shade of orange, but she recognized her surroundings. She was near the drop ship. Ideal for her to be pretty well protected, but if anyone had thought to follow her they would search for her there first. The drop ship was out of the question. Clarke took a moment to think, looking straight into the setting sun she took a few deep breaths. She still hadn't gotten over the sweet smell of the air, real air, not the recycled, metallic smelling air they had on the Arc.

The sunset created shadows and the shadows produced a ghost. Clarke blinked, she was sure she saw Wells, but there was no one. Still, it gave her an idea. Clarke knew a place where she could sleep for the night, a place where the only other people who knew about it were dead.