The dreams were wonderful. But that's what they were... dreams. Clarke knew it. Her memories of the first year after the Death Wave left her in its wake were Hell. Survival was rough, minimal to no food for days on end, desolation as far as she could venture out and the loneliness almost drove her mad. That was reality, this was different.

Everything around her was too shiny, too perfect, but Clarke didn't care. Bellamy was with her, he was right in front of her gathering up vegetables from the garden while she lounged under a tree with her sketchbook. He caught her staring and gave her that beaming smile that took her breath away.

She opened her mouth to speak to him but nothing came out aside from fits of coughing. Each cough skewed her reality. In one moment she was with Bellamy in their beautiful shiny garden and the next moment she was cold and alone surrounded by grey. The scenes kept alternating and each time she saw Bellamy, he kept smiling in a way that told her everything was okay.

Eventually, Clarke only saw the grey. Her true memories came back to her in waves, the rover crashing, telling Madi to run, being pulled from the rover and slammed to the ground. The physical pain kept hitting her and her entire body ached. Clarke's head pounded with a never-ending headache, she tried to bring her hand up to her temple to assess for any lacerations but found it tied down. Her arms and legs were strapped down to a table and then she realized the mask that had the lingering scent of a sedative that must have run out.

Looking around her, Clarke's breath came out too quickly and she began to hyperventilate. The only explanation was that she was on the ship with the people who sent out the drone and shot her. What could she do? There was nothing. The panic of being trapped started to take hold and Clarke fought against the bindings. Her shoulder was on fire but the rest of her almost didn't exist, she was so weak she doubted it even looked like she moved even though she was exhausted as if she had been thrashing around wildly.

Clarke heard a door open from across the room and she went still. Gasping for air, she looked around to get a look at her captor. He came in to view with an amused look on his weathered face. She could tell that he must have had a hard life but embraced it.

"Hello there Ms. Griffin. I heard the monitor go off and thought it meant you would be awake soon enough. Welcome aboard The Gagarin. This is my ship and, from what I know, you seem like a smart girl so I am going to tell it to you straight."

Clarke could do nothing but stare up at him and let him talk. She hardly thought her brain could fully understand anything he said but she willed herself to try.

"I am the Captain. If you are ever able to talk, you will call me Captain." He walked around her bed to the other side and Clarke followed him with her eyes. "We've been gone a while and it's about time we got back to the ground... seems a lot has happened since we left. At any rate, it looks like your blood is going to do us a world of good. Almost literally." He gave a short laugh that Clarke doubted he even meant.

She could feel herself drifting back. Back to her shiny post Death Wave world where it was just her and Bellamy. Her view seemed to overlap the two worlds into one, if she relaxed her eyes ever so slightly, she could still see the grey room and hear the Captain's voice.

"I remember my father telling me about what you call Nightblood. It was meant to last for generations but it turns out that was a pipe dream. You have plenty to make it a reality though. So sweet dreams while we take back what is ours."

He turned the dial on one of the monitors that surrounded the space behind her head and Clarke was completely lost to her dream world.

"Welcome back Princess." Clarke smiled and everything else was forgotten.