**Chapter 1: Homecoming**

Bellamy Blake stepped off the transport and onto the worn asphalt of the landing strip, the bright sunlight a stark contrast to the darkness he'd left behind. The war had taken its toll on him, both physically and mentally. Scars marred his face and arms, a constant reminder of the battles he'd fought and won. But it was the ghosts in his mind that weighed him down the most. The memories of the friends he'd lost, the innocent lives he'd taken, and the endless days of bloodshed and chaos. As he made his way through the small crowd of familiar faces, Bellamy's eyes scanned the sea of concerned expressions, finally landing on his sister, Octavia. She was a petite thing, but her determination and spirit had always been bigger than her size. He could see the worry etched on her face, and it was a reminder that he'd been gone for far too long. Octavia rushed into his arms, nearly knocking him off balance. "Bellamy!" she exclaimed, her voice shaking with emotion. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he took a deep breath of the familiar scent of home. It was a small comfort, but it was a start. As they pulled back, Bellamy's gaze drifted over Octavia's shoulder, and his eyes narrowed. Clarke Griffin stood a short distance away, her arms crossed and a look of disapproval on her face. Bellamy's gut twisted in annoyance. Of all the people he didn't want to see right now, it was Clarke. Octavia, sensing his tension, squeezed his arm. "Hey, Clarke came to help me get you settled," she said, her voice soft. Bellamy raised an eyebrow, skeptical. Clarke had always been a thorn in his side, with her know-it-all attitude and constant need to challenge him. He'd never understood why Octavia put up with her, but his sister seemed to think Clarke was the best thing since sliced bread. Clarke, oblivious to Bellamy's disdain, stepped forward, a small bag slung over her shoulder. "We should get you home, Lieutenant," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "I'm sure you're exhausted." Bellamy bristled at the title, but he bit back his retort. He didn't have the energy to spar with Clarke right now. "Just Clarke," he said curtly, his eyes locked on hers. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable. Then Clarke seemed to think better of it, and nodded. "Right. Just Clarke." As they made their way to the transport, Bellamy couldn't help but feel like he was in for a long and difficult road to recovery. And having Clarke Griffin by his side was not exactly the kind of support he needed. The transport ride was quiet, with Clarke sitting across from him, her eyes fixed on him with an unnerving intensity. Bellamy shifted uncomfortably, feeling like a specimen under a microscope. When they arrived at his small cabin on the outskirts of the settlement, Clarke helped Octavia get him settled, fussing over his injuries and making sure he had enough food and water. Bellamy tolerated it, but his patience was wearing thin. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the small clearing, Clarke finally seemed to relax, her expression softening. For a moment, Bellamy saw something in her eyes that gave him pause. A glimmer of concern, maybe even compassion. But it was quickly replaced by her usual mask of confidence and control. "I'll be back tomorrow, Lieutenant," she said, her voice firm. "To check on you." Bellamy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, watching as she turned and left, Octavia by her side. As the door closed behind them, he let out a deep breath, wondering what the coming days would bring.