[sun hides itself away]

The nightmares are back.

No. Not back. They had never left her, just softened around the edges. In the weeks since Founders Day, the nightmares have gotten worse. She wakes sweating and shaking, haunting by the faces of people whose names she doesn't really know. The ones with her friends, with her people start to slide into her waking hours.

Everything hurts.

Objectively she knows that Bellamy is right. That she should focus on the fact that she managed to save people. That their people are alive. She isn't the version of herself that pulled that lever. It happened to the part of her that had to live on back home. Someone who clearly turned into a version that Clarke isn't certain she knows or recognises.

She's not certain she wants to know her. Carrying that girl's guilt around is bad enough.

Over the weeks she has tried to not let it ruin her, but even sketchbook isn't any help. Her drawings have gone dark, landscapes threatening, faces shadowed and streaked with tears. Throwing herself into work and studying has been her only option. Fear and guilt can be incredible motivators.

Everyone she loves suffers. Everyone she cares about dies. Being near her is a curse, so she does the only thing she can think of to keep Bellamy safe. She picks up more waitressing shifts at the bar, changes her schedule without telling him, starts ignoring his calls and making excuses.

It's been three days since she's had anything longer than a fifteen minute conversation with him. Already she feels like yet another part of her is quickly dying.

Having run through her mental checklist, she triple checks that she has everything before she opens the door to head to work only to find him standing there.

"Bellamy." Her voice is soft with surprise as her grasp on her keys tightens. "I was going to call you."

That's a lie and she's pretty certain they both know it.

(no subject)

Comparing her friends isn't something Clarke likes to do. Back when she'd been (marginally) more care free there hadn't really been friends to compare. It had simply been Wells, from start to finish.

Wells is gone though. Raven is far from here. Harper, Monty, Jasper, Octavia. None of them are here with her. Bellamy is, but there's something strange about limiting him to the friend category. Besides new friends are starting to creep in.

It's hard to find people to count on. But when she finds them, Clarke's reluctant to let go.

The darkness is trailing after her, a vice-like grip around her heart. It's hard to focus, cutting off her ability to think and breathe straight. All she wants to do is get away from it, to escape into people who won't look at her with pity or sadness. Who will let her have her guilt.

It takes a bit of self-persuading, but eventually she texts Molly asking if she can come over. The older girl agrees and that's how Clarke finds herself navigating herself through Molly's building.

In front of Molly's door, she takes a deep breath, steeling herself before she knocks on the door. Her hands are gripping the bag of snacks from the corner store, something she bought out of weird necessity rather than any desire to eat them.

"Hi," she greets with a tight smile when Molly opens the door. "Thanks for letting me come over. I just had to get away, you know?"