The Damned

Disclaimer: I don't own, just playing in a new sandbox – lookit all the pretty sand!
Spoilers: Season 1: Episode 8 – Day Trip

A/N: So, I guess "The Damned" is a catchall for missing scenes after all. Not sure if I will be able to keep up with the episodes, or if I'll do installments for each one – maybe just the ones that really resonate, like this one.

Summary: A set of missing scenes from "Day Trip" because even though the episode was full of Bellarke scenes, I wanted more. So, I wrote more – bwahahaha!

"No, it's not fair, but what makes earth feel like Hell is our expectation that it should feel like Heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. You'll find out for yourself soon enough. It won't help the situation for you to get all upset."
-Chuck Palahniuk

The 100 – Day Trip

"Bellamy?"

"The answer is still 'no', I'm not talking to Jaha."

"Hey, relax, that's not why I'm here."

"What, then?"

"The Ark found some old records that show a supply depot not too far from here."

"What kind of supplies?"

"The kind that might give us a chance to live through winter? I'm gonna go check it out, I could use back-up."

"Why are you, asking me?"

"Well, because right now, I don't feel like being around anyone I actually like."

"I'll get my stuff, meet you in ten."

100100100100100100100100100100

Clarke could fall asleep right this moment, propped up against a tree, surrounded in the peaceful quiet of the night. No white noise of droning motors running non-stop to keep heat and air flowing so that the last of humanity could continue to survive.

Just – silence.

Well except for the shallow, even breaths coming from the man seated to her left, who is oh so still and pensive. She takes a quick glance, takes in his bloody face and sees that Bellamy's eyes are closed, though he doesn't quite look like he's asleep. His right hand is on the ground, clutching the dirt lightly and mere centimeters from her own and she takes some comfort in his nearness, intentional or not.

Because let's face it, she's gotten to know him so much more within the past few minutes than the entire time they'd been on earth. And she's come to the startling conclusion that she was wrong about him.

Partially.

Because Bellamy Blake is an ass, there's no denying that.

But he's sort of an ass for the right reasons. Clarke can't fault him for that because that counts for something and she really does forgive him for some of the choices he's had to make. She has to, because no one is going to be harder on Bellamy than Bellamy – we are our own worst critics.

Her eyes start to droop and she realizes with some clarity that not only is she bone tired, she's comfortable and (Grounders or not) Clarke feels safe. All because of Bellamy. It's amazing what hallucinogenic nuts, a near death experience, self reflection and snapping under the weight of our sins can reveal.

She starts to give in, lets her eyes fall close slowly and feels her head tilting towards her companion and decides at the last minute that maybe it's not such a good idea to fall asleep right here and she jerks her head back causing searing pain to shoot through her abdomen. Fucking Dax. Clarke inhales so sharply and suddenly that Bellamy's instantly alert, turning toward her and looking at her with knitted brows and more concern for her than she thought he was capable of.

"Are you okay?" he asks and Clarke notices how he reaches towards her mid-section only to veer his hand away to rest gently on her knee. And she can't help but smirk, because oddly enough, a part of her is a little disappointed that he changed his mind. She mentally slaps herself and vows not to wonder why.

Instead, she nods and sighs heavily and it seems enough to placate his interest. Clarke then decides that what she really needs is to figure out their predicament, to figure out something. She didn't promise him, but the worry she sees on his face as he watches her push the pain from her injury out of her mind spurs her on. He told her he was a monster and the shame and hopelessness she felt radiating off of him emboldened her to take up his cause. It's what she does, right? Take care of people. Save them, as Finn put it all those days ago.

Bellamy is most definitely included now, because she knows she's right. They, the one hundred, needed him to survive on earth. And if the body of Dax lying a few yards in front of them is any indication, than yes, she absolutely needed – needs – him to survive on earth, too. She just hopes that telling him so is enough to quiet his flight response to the impending arrival from the Ark – that's what she tells herself anyway.

Something continues to niggle in the back of her mind about what happened earlier with Dax. A detail that she just can't pinpoint and then it just clicks, sliding into place and Clarke knows what they'll do. Most importantly, she knows what she'll say to Jaha.

And just in time too, because Bellamy's hand is still resting on her knee and all at once she's hyper aware of how large it is, how he's lightly squeezing and how warm it feels through the fabric of her pants. He's peering at her cautiously and she's starting to find it difficult to focus when she finally manages to mumble, "it's 'later' now, do you think you're ready to head back?"

Clarke watches curiously as Bellamy abruptly seems so flustered. But, he nods, snorts (more to himself it seems) and straightens, removing his hand from her knee and brushing it across his face. He gets up first and extends a hand to help her up and Clarke takes it.

#100#

They're in the bunker cleaning off the guns and trying to figure out how much of them, ammo and blankets they can carry back comfortably when Clarke suddenly feels a little dizzy. She knows it's from the knock Dax inflicted upon her head and she gingerly reaches up to feel the back of her skull. And of course there's quite a bump there, tender to the touch and it causes her to hiss in pain.

The action does not go unnoticed by Bellamy who crosses the room quickly and is now holding a light up to the back of her head and gently prodding away. He gets her to take a seat on an overturned bin and she doesn't even think twice about letting him hover over her.

"Its not bleeding, there's no broken skin, but it's pretty swollen," he reports.

"Hm," Clark responds, already having assessed the same thing. "Yeah, but this headache I have and slight dizziness might mean I'm concussed," she says.

"We need to get you back to camp," Bellamy says eying Clarke. Sighing heavily, he adds, "I don't know how you made it out to stop Dax when you did, but I could be dead." The I wanted to die is left hanging in the air.

He reaches down to the pack next to Clarke to pull out a makeshift canteen full of water and hands it to her. "Drink," Bellamy says watching her take a sip, then, "you could be dead too, you know. It was a hell of a risk, Princess." Her nickname comes out sounding almost like a caress.

Clarke nods thoughtfully, the canteen still at her mouth. Bellamy's seriousness is different this time and it causes her some discomfort. When she's done drinking, she says, "I know, but I'm not." It doesn't sound very reassuring but she tries again. "And neither are you." She hands the canteen back and decides to take a chance and reaches out to grab the sleeve of his jacket to pull him closer so she can take a good look at the abrasions on his face.

She ignores the sudden panicked expression on his face and is thankful that he doesn't fight her, obediently bowing down to her level after figuring out what she was after. His eyes follow her as she looks his face over, satisfied that cleaning it can wait till they return, she lets go of his sleeve. But Bellamy doesn't straighten immediately and she takes the opportunity to say, "thank you, for saving my life – really."

She's watching him closely when he nods back and says, "thank you too, Clarke." And she's taken aback by the tenderness in his voice. It's the same voice that told her who they were, and who they had to be to survive were different things. Very different things.

He holds her gaze and can't help but shift uncomfortably before looking away quickly and standing up. Bellamy starts gathering their packs and guns together and Clarke follows suit. "You okay to make the trek back?" he asks, his trademark deep timbre back to normal.

"Ready when you are," she answers, shouldering her pack.

#100#

Bellamy sits there stunned, with a slight goofy grin on his face. It is unbelievable to him what just occurred and it's probably the second time in twenty-four hours that he thinks he's dreaming. Movement off to his left causes him to snap back to reality as he follows Clarke's actions and pulls the headset off too.

He sees that she's smiling shyly and he exhales out of relief, looking down at his hands briefly before looking back at her.

"It worked," she says, raising her shoulders slightly and letting them drop, an obvious display of the tension suddenly dissipating from her body.

Bellamy can't hold in the full blown smile anymore, so he doesn't and nods back. "It worked."

They're silent for a bit, sitting comfortably and looking at each other before Clarke too exhales and makes to stand. "I need to go check on Finn's bandages," she says reluctantly.

Bellamy nods again and can't fight another grin. "Thanks, Clarke," he says as he stands too, "for what you said." She nods back and he reaches the flap of the tent first and lifts it for her to exit, but not before grabbing her elbow lightly and stopping her from exiting all together. "Wait, so tell the truth. You actually do like me, right?" he asks, unable to hide the mirth in his voice.

Clarke scoffs easily and shoves him. "Shut up," she answers as she steps through, leaving Bellamy chuckling softly to himself and shaking his head. He can't help but smile again.

End.