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When Clarke opened her eyes again, Monty was gone, she was back in her mindspace. She cursed through her breath and stood up from her bed in the skybox. The drawings were still there, but a bit blurry. Only one face stood out from the others – but she wouldn’t let herself notice it.
She heard noises – Josephine mustn’t be far. She grabbed her blade and proceeded to walk slowly toward the noise. Her mindspace was completely silent except for the noise – Josephine was knocking metal against metal and it was echoing through all the place giving Clarke a headache.
She tried to make herself as swift and soundless as possible, but her boots squeaked with every step she took – why the hell was she wearing brand new boots? She hadn’t had an opportunity for new shoes since Mount Weather. Josephine must be playing with her, going through her worst memories and bringing out small details to mess up with her. She couldn’t let her go away with her.
The atmosphere was cold; a chill ran through her body and Clarke was eager to find Josephine in order to warm up in the action. If only she could kick her out and get a hold of a body once and for all! The headache only grew stronger as she got closer to the noise; as if something was wrong in her trail of thoughts.
When she turned in the hallway she noticed the noise came from an open door she hadn’t noticed in the last days. She frowned and inspected her surroundings. The hallway was still the same – from the Eligius ship; behind her stood the wooden door leading to Josephine’s own mindspace and she had left the door to the skybox wide open. The door seemed familiar; just as the sound did now she was close enough. It was the sound of something metallic rattling against prison bars. She took a hesitant step forward and made out another noise from the room – pumps and bips and medical equipment and – her breath hitched.
Mount Weather.
Her heartbeat quickened. She wasn’t ready to be back there. She wasn’t ready for the blood. She didn’t want to face the Wallaces or Maya again. She shook her head feeling her throat tighten because that wasn’t all she feared to face in there – but she wouldn’t dare think about. She truly hoped Josephine was the one making the noise and that she was alone.
“I know you’re there, Clarke. Come here and face me. Face us.”
A chill ran through her body. She couldn’t let fear overcome her senses, but she couldn’t think rationally now she knew who was in there. She should have expected to see him there but it was too much to think about when Josephine was always lurking to find any of weaknesses.
“But love is weakness, Clarke, isn’t it?”
She winced. Was he reading her mind? Of course, because he was a creation of her mindspace. She could control him, she could overpower him. She couldn’t move and still held her breath. She knew she had to take a step further and face him. She hadn’t been able to do it since – since she decided not to be weak when it came to him.
“Brave Princess – oh wait, not so brave anymore, am I right?”
She shuddered. That nickname sent her back to a place life seemed hard – but it was easier than they ever had it since they came down on Earth. She took a deep breath, chasing away the memories of a time they were enemies, and strode in the room.
As expected, Bellamy was there, smiling wickedly at her. He was locked up in a cage, alone in the room. The medical equipment surrounding them kept bipping in the background, pumping blood out of him. When she noticed the tube tying him to a pumping machine, Clarke rushed to him but he backed away from her glaring at her.
“You don’t get to do that, Clarke. You don’t get to save me when you are the one who decided that I was worth the risk.”
His tone was stone hard, and his eyes were made of ice. He looked like the Bellamy she ran to after she escaped Mount Weather – and he survived their burning the grounders. The beard he grew on the Ring wasn’t there, but he was wearing his navy blue shirt – the one that usually made his eyes shine out; his soft chocolate brown eyes.
“Bellamy, please, let me help you. You know I never wanted you to die but you were our best shot, our best fighter, our best –“
“You left me.” His eyes were now a bit watery and the words echoed through her body and shook her to her very core. She couldn’t forget those words, not when they were tattooed with her own blood on her soul. He had said those words before, when she came asking for his help, when he let down because she didn’t deserve much more.
They were both kids who played at being adults. They were just kids who didn’t know how to deal with the painful guilt that overwhelmed them and the feelings that were too much to take in. So she ran away and he followed an incompetent leader.
“Bellamy, let me help you. We’ll clean you up, we’ll find a way.” She managed a smile through the tears forming at the corners of her years.
He chuckled, but it was dark and painful. He winced as he moved toward her in his cage. She couldn’t bear to watch him suffer that way – she couldn’t bear to think about what he must have gone through in Mount Weather because she decided to send him in. She spent six years atoning for it, reliving their eyes on the Earth and making amends for her mistakes, picturing ways she could have made better choice for him, for them, for their people. She had longed for Finn, for Lexa, for Niylah – but not like this, not like those six years she spent without him. It was not like this, nothing like Bellamy.
She reached for the lock of his cage and he didn’t stop her. He kept staring at her with watery eyes, wincing at every pump of his blood. The door wasn’t locked and with a simple movement she opened the door. She held her hand out for Bellamy to reach, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, Clarke, but I don’t need you anymore.” He pushed her hand away, grabbed the tube tied to his chest and tore it away, not even wincing at the pain. Then he got out of the cage, barely avoiding her.
The words hurt, but it’s not like she hadn’t heard them before. It was like reopening a fresh wound. With a rusty knife. A broken white-hot knife soaked in acid. It hurt badly but Clarke tried to focus on improving the situation like she did with Maya a few days ago. She knew she could control Bellamy’s behavior in her mindspace, she just had to make him more like himself – like they were before Josephine took over control.
“Bellamy, come on. I know you don’t need me, not like I need you at least. Please, let me help with those wounds. We will treat them and then we will talk.” She pleaded but Bellamy kept walking. He smashed a button on the blood pumping machine and it stopped. The whole machinery stopped and then he turned around towering her.
“You say you need me, then you leave.” He paused, and her upper lip quivered. She couldn’t cry now. “You said I was home when I got back to you on Earth, do you remember? You said I was home and yet, it did not feel like it since you left me to die in the fighting pits.” He spat at her and she could not held back the hot tears that started rolling down her cheeks. “Oh and now you think you have a right to cry, make me feel guilty for all the things you did to me, Clarke?”
She reached out and grabbed his forearm, squeezed a bit to show him support, but his breath was still ragged and angry. She could almost feel his fury coming out of him in waves with every breath he took. She wanted to soothe him so badly but didn’t know how to do it.
“I’m sorry, Bellamy. I’m so sorry for everything I did to you. I never wanted to hurt you, never meant to.”
He chuckled. “Didn’t you try to shoot me, Clarke?”
This stab hurt harder; maybe because it was the last blow or because she felt like she was already bleeding out on the floor. Get knocked down, get back up.
“I did. Are we keeping scores Bellamy?” When he didn’t answer, she carried on. “You’re too important to me, Bellamy, you know that. I’m trying to do better, every day, one day at a time. We were kids back there, we hurt, we lost our friends and loved ones.”
“Some you killed yourself. People you love seem to die around you, Clarke. Your father, Wells, Finn, Lexa… Your mother. I don’t know if I want you to care about me, I don’t know if I want to risk my life for you this way.”
Her breath caught in her throat, his eyes hard on her. That was coherent with her own mindspace, her worst fear. Bellamy ending whatever thing was between them – friendship, partnership, leadership, and something more maybe? She couldn’t put words on that anymore. She knew it was all fake, that the real Bellamy was out there, fighting for their people when she couldn’t do it and probably moving on from whatever they had. The real Bellamy wouldn’t say those words to her.
But having him there before her saying those awful words still hurt like a bitch.
“I’ve called you, Bellamy. 2199 times. I’ve spent 2199 days looking up at the sky praying that you were still alive while I was left behind. I’ve never longed for anyone like I’ve longed for you, Bellamy, and you know it. You know it because Madi told you, even though I asked her not to, because I told you and we talked abut it. We cleared things, the bad and the good, when you hurt and when I hurt you. Stop it, Bellamy, please, stop it.”
Please, be the Bellamy I used to dream about when you were on the Ring, she was about to beg. But she couldn’t say those words aloud, even though it was only in her mindspace and he would not really hear them, so the rejection would not really hurt.
She kept staring her at him, her hand on his forearm. She wanted him to hold her like he would every time one of them needed it. She needed it then.
He smirked, and she thought she dreamt the playfulness in his eyes as it was just a flash. “I thought you didn’t feel like being around anyone you liked?” She let go of his forearm to smack his arm playfully and his smile reaching his eyes. The Bellamy she knew was back.
She was to speak when he frowned. “Clarke, you have to wake up.” The voice came out of his mouth but echoed throughout the room and resonated in her very core.
“What? But I’m awake, Bellamy, what is wrong?”
“Clarke, wake up! Wake up, Clarke!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and started to shake her lightly, repeating the words that echoed more and more loudly in the room until all faded away in front of her and a blinding light replaced it all.
She blinked rapidly and Bellamy’s face reappeared in front of her with a cute concerned frown between his brows. Clarke blinked again and noticed his beard. She smiled weakly – the real Bellamy was before her.
He smiled back at her and helped her up, handing her out a glass of water. “This time it was your turn to have nightmares.” She was about to ask him why he said that but the memories came rushing back as her brain woke up – Josephine was dead – Octavia was missing – Her mother was dead – Their people were safe and tried to live among the people of Sanctum – The Primes were no more – Echo and Bellamy ended things a few weeks ago – the Anomaly was still a mystery to them – Hope was a grown-up – and..
“Did I wake you again?” she grimaced feeling sorry. She looked around and noticed the night was still dark, his bed next to hers was a mess and he must have been sound asleep.
“Like I woke you last night.” He smiled, pushing a stray of hair out of her eyes with his fingers. “Except you were calling out my name like a freak, what happened to me in your nightmare?”
She sighed and avoided his gaze. “No more than what already happened to you. I just relived all again in a few minutes. Mount Weather. The fighting pits. The calls. The bunker. It was, well, it was harsh to say the least.” She glanced at him and saw him smiling softly at her.
“It’s okay, now, we’re together.” This word seemed to heal all the hurt the other words fake-Bellamy threw at her. Together. “We’ll face all this together; your nightmares, my nightmares. We’ve already faced a lot, brought you back from the dead too many times, Princess.”
The nickname made her smile. “Remember when you used to call me that out of spite?” He laughed heartily and it warmed up her heart.
“Yeah, yeah I do. You were a brat.” He nudged her shoulder lightly and she squeezed herself on her bed, making space for him to hop on it.
“And you were an ass. C’mon.” She said, patting the covers next to her. He chuckled as he rose from where he sat on the bed, pulled the covers and hopped on the small bed next to her, their shoulders touching.
“You say that because you were jealous of my aura.”
She choked on his words. “Oh you mean the continuous flow of girls walking in and out of your tent?”
He sighed. “Jealous, I said.” She punched his shoulder and smiled brightly. It felt nice, it felt light, it felt natural. Even when they were still in danger, even when she was still grieving her mother and he was looking for his missing sister. They still had each other.
“Maybe.” She murmured after a few seconds and felt him tense beside her. He turned his face to look down at her and smirked. “C’mon, we need sleep.” She said before he could speak. He was about to walk out of her bed when she grabbed his arm and settled her head on his chest, putting his arm around her. Her heart was beating like crazy fearing the rejection that never came. His arm tightened around her and she felt his lips kiss her hair.
“I’m happy you’re the one in my tent now.” He whispered after a while. “I can’t think of anyone I’d want to share it with more.” Maybe he thought she was fast asleep but she heard it, as she heard his heartbeat quicken as he said the words.
“I love you, Bell.”
His whole body tensed and just as suddenly as it tensed, he relaxed against her and held her tighter.
He put a finger under her chin and made her face him. “I love you too, Princess.” He whispered softly as his lips ghosted hers lightly, as if she had dreamt it. With a small movement of her head she closed the microscopic distance between their lips and eventually enjoyed the taste of his chapped lips, of his tongue battling hers as he held her closer than she ever thought possible.