The Original 100

8

It's a long month and a half before everyone is almost 100% back to normal

Clarke is still coughing and feeling generally... blah. But that's probably due to the fact that she has slept a significant amount less than the others. When Bellamy got sick, she's sure he slept for a week straight.

Now, as the dark of night is giving way to dawn, Clarke wanders out of her tent, wrapped in an animal hide. Winter is nearing its long awaited end but it is still bitter in the mornings.

She is surprised to find that anyone else is up, let alone a very large group of her people huddled around a fire.

"Bellamy? What's going on?" She stands to his right, warming her hands by the fire. Gloves, she needs to make herself some gloves. Surprising her, Bellamy snakes an arm under her blanket, cold fingers brushing against the exposed skin just below the hem of her shirt. She arches her back at the sudden cold touch, but doesn't push his hand away.

"Well, princess, we've seen more than one suspicious looking set of tracks out in the woods. We think Mount Weather is watching our camp." Using the arm wrapped tightly at her side he turns her slightly, so she has a view of the outside of camp through a hole in their wall. "And what with our deteriorating fence... we can't afford for them to be watching us. But don't worry, we have a plan," he whispers into her hair. His voice is low and deep, making Clarke shiver against her best efforts and sending a chill down her spine. She can almost hear his smile. Giving him a jab with a sharp elbow, she forces him out of her blanket.

"So, what is this plan?" She asks, trying to ignore the whispers from the group of boys surrounding the fire. She's noticed that ever since Bellamy brought her back into his tent when she'd been sick people had been treating her differently. Almost like they'd grown wary of her. Finn had said when she was still finding comfort in Bellamy's sheets at night (God that was a lifetime ago) that they hadn't been sneaky. Then Miller had told Bellamy that they were the talk of the camp. Now it seemed as though people didn't mind if they heard their whispers and caught their obvious stares. Bellamy embraced the rumors, much to Clarke's annoyance. She however, was trying to deflect them as best she could. As she stands there with Bellamy, looking out into the woods, it is clear to her that she had not been making as much headway on that front as she had previously thought.

"We're going to move our people to Camp Jaha." Even though Jaha was no longer chancellor, and hadn't been for a long while, everyone still refers to the Ark as Camp Jaha. Old habits die hard.

"I've already talked to Lincoln's tribe. They'll escort us. But we'll have to take 2 groups." He looks straight at her then, dark eyes searching hers.

"So, you'll lead one and I'll lead the other?" He doesn't answer her right away. Instead, his eyes flicker over head towards the boys, and then back to her.

"Clarke," his voice is even lower than before. His hands move back into her blanket, wrapping tightly, almost painfully, around hers. "I don't want to split up. Not again."

"But each group needs a leader. Who else do you trust enough to lead the other group? Murphy?" He gives her an incredulous look. Even though Murphy has made tremendous leaps in the way of becoming a fully fledged rehabilitated member of the camp neither of them trusted him as far as they could throw him. "Finn?" She presses. He sees her point and man does he hate how often she is right.

"Fine," he finally says. "But I'm leaving my best guardsmen with you."

"Bellamy," she reaches for his face, cupping his cheeks in her palms. "I can take care of myself. Besides, we'll have Grounder guards. When do we leave?"

He quickly divulges the plan to her. The first group will leave in ten minutes, only big enough to scout ahead, take out any possible threats and just clear out a general path for the second group. Mostly likely only ten or fifteen people.