InsaneJournal

Bellamy hadn’t been joking when he had said he fully intended to bring a sleeping bag and camp out by her room. It had been far too long since he’d seen Clarke, particularly having spent all those years believing she was dead. Trying to live by her and for her, to do right by the others, hadn’t been easy. It hadn’t exactly gone smoothly either.

Old habits died hard, too. From living on the ground, Bellamy slept light, woke up with the sun despite not being able to see it, and sat up from his doze to lean against the wall. Head leaning to the side, he listened in for any signs of her stirring.

“Clarke?” He called out. “You up?”

Today would be a good day. Today was the day she’d get out.

She'd been awake for a while, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to get a decent night's sleep even though Clarke had been to this world before. Anticipation of getting out, of seeing Bellamy again, weighed on her mind. She was also interested to see how the town had changed, and sad to find out that both Howard and Peggy were gone. (And that it meant she'd have to find a new job.)

She piled her blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the large window. He'd refused to leave so she'd refused to sleep in the bed. If he was going to sleep on the floor, then so was she. There was nothing he could do about it, and she was just as stubborn as he was.

Clarke lifted an arm so he'd see that she was awake. And though it wasn't the truth, she said, "You snore."

Once either of them set their mind on something, there was no bending it. Although they’d both faltered in their leadership capacities, stubbornness remained a key trait in keeping them at the forefront of every crisis. Whether butting heads over where to sleep to keep one another company or deciding who was going to execute an entire group of unwitting people to save their own, Bellamy and Clarke always ended on even ground.

Which was why it had been so hard on him to leave her behind, believing her dead.

Her remark earned a wry grin as he shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “So do you,” he responded easily, not at all meaning it either. Spending this time with her while she was in quarantine meant the world to Bellamy. He’d not be easily pried from Clarke from now on.

“Hungry?” He offered, reaching over for his bag of dwindling snacks for their unorthodox sleepover. “Got some of those Pop-tarts leftover.”

"Nope, I'm gonna wait till I get out and get some of those waffles from JJ's." A quick search on the internet proved that they were still around, so she could only hope the waffles were as good as she remembered them. She could stomach a few more hours or however long it would be.

She sat up to move against the glass, leaning her shoulder against it. Her hair, now short with red streaks in it, belied her true age. When he left her, she was only twenty. Now she was somewhere in her mid-twenties. She put her hand palm-side against the window. "I can't believe we haven't seen each other in so long, Bell. You were my rock."

“They are pretty good,” agreed Bellamy. That had been a place he’d visited frequently enough, not that he would admit to any sort of addiction. Who could possibly blame him for being hooked to those waffles though? Clarke wouldn’t, but she’d hang it over his head.

Worth it to go eat there, he easily decided.

Glancing at her through the glass now that he was sitting up, his smile dipped halfway down. Having spent her time in quarantine across the window from her hadn’t been easy. They wouldn’t let him go sit in the room with her, and though he understood the reasoning -- Bellamy made sure the soldiers knew how displeased it made him.

The sentiment she spoke prompted him to lift his own hand, mirroring hers against the glass. “Wasn’t easy looking out for them without you, Clarke. Not that I…” What? Had managed to do it successfully? Bellamy knew himself to be a failure in all that he did, so he couldn’t have been that surprised to know he’d let down those that made it up to the Ark with him. “I’m better off with you around,” he amended smoothly enough, because it was genuine. “You were mine, too. Still are.”

Clarke smiled, a tiny thing that carried sadness with it. Nothing in their lives was ever easy. Not even these conversations. They always came with a price, and that price had been six years. For a good long time, Clarke had been alone. She'd suffered through the radiation sickness in Becca's bunker for weeks, and then spent so much time in the bunker she'd started talking to herself. Once Clarke was sure the wave of destruction had passed, she began making small trips out, going further to find out what was left. (Spoiler: nothing.)

She smiled, the only thing she could really do in return without getting choked up.

"Clarke Griffin," a voice came from over Bellamy's shoulder. "You're being released."

When the voice popped up behind him, it took a moment for him to register it. Halfway turning to observe the soldier, he processed the words and immediately moved aside to let him unlock the door. Clenching his hands anxiously, he was itching to get across that threshold and finally make contact with the girl he’d sworn up and down for years had died so that they could all live.

Once that moment came, he muttered a thanks to the soldier and closed the lingering distance between him and Clarke to crush her to him. There’d be no getting him to let go any time soon either, not without a word from her.

For all the words in her vocabulary and all the time she'd used them, Clarke Griffin felt that none of them could compare to the feeling of being swallowed by Bellamy's arms. Six years without anyone to comfort her when she needed it. She had to be strong for Madi, whose mother hadn't made it. They were all they had.

She squeezed Bellamy harder, locking her hands together behind his back and burying her face against his shoulder. Her voice was muffled, but she finally found it. "I'm going to need those waffles really soon. I've been surviving on plants for six years."

The last place he wanted to be was back in one of these rooms, but damn if it wasn’t good to be in there with her right then and holding her as tight as he could. If Clarke couldn’t handle it, she’d let him know. Doubting it would become an issue, he clutched on to her for fear of seeing her suddenly vanish from within his own grasp. He hadn’t waited for Clarke, not long enough, and he had to live with that.

Leave it to her to try and absolve him of that guilt right out the gate, too.

“When you’re ready to go get your things, I’ll take you outta here,” he muffled into her hair. They could go anywhere she wanted.

After some waffles, of course.