Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bellamy Blake couldn't sleep.

He adds this to his mental list: 

Ratio of things Bellamy Blake can to cannot, do:

           3 : 10,000

This wasn't a new thing, no, it was the third day straight.

He couldn't sleep because he'd wake up in the middle of the night, soaked in sweat and throat dry, eyes wet, heart beatbeatbeat skipsabeat beating. He'd walk out of his tent and even if it was still dark out- what, 04h00? Maybe 01h00? He'd still walk around the camp. He'd check that everything was locked, or put away, everyone asleep who wasn't on a post. And he'd hide in his tent until breakfast passed and go back out again and find Octavia. She'd say, We missed you at breakfast, Bell! Or, Bell, where were you? And he'd say he slept through it or was out and that he'd eat later but he wouldn't. When she'd ask, he'd say he ate lunch while she trained or that he'd eat dinner on watch tonight.

Something about hanging upside down from your feet, tied up after being stuck in a cage for hours, at least it felt like hours, has that kind of effect on a guy.

..

The nightmares always include him getting burned alive again and again, never once even groaning; let alone crying, because he needed to be strong.

Because it was worth it. Worth his life. (Was it, Clarke? Do you mean that? ) He thinks it was, and he means that.
(Even though it wasn't, it was useless, and he was useless.)

He wonders what would've happened if he died there. If he gave up. If he had listened to Lincoln. If he hadn't drawn the guard's attention, how he would've gotten out, and if Lovejoy's kid would still have a dad. What Maya would've done.

The nightmares do show Lincoln, though. Sometimes, if he's lucky enough, that's all they show. He still wakes up, anxiety-ridden, overwhelmed by guilt, and chest tight... but he isn't crying. 

Right now, he's outside against a tree. No one was up, everything was taken care of. He could breathe.

He remembers seeing Clarke. He was convinced it was fake but it wasn't and Oh my God, Clarke, you're here, he had thought. He didn't think he'd be that happy even if it was O.

He slides his back down against the tree, bark scratching his shirt. He's on the ground now.

He might fall asleep. He's tired. He's exhausted. Maybe God will take his side tonight (this morning?) and go easy on him.

..

He should've known not to get his hopes up.

He's being shaken awake. The sun is too bright against his eyelids- he sees red instead of black. The sun? Fuck, how long did he sleep?

"Bellamy, Bellamy, breathe. You need to look at me. Do you see where we are?" Came a familiar voice.

Clarke's voice, he realizes distantly. Clarke is here.

He sits up. His eyes dart around. Not many people are outside. But there are some.

"Fuck, who saw, how did you know-" he starts to ask before Clarke cuts him off.

"Bellamy. What did I just say about needing to breathe?" He sighs and does so. He follows her pattern as she inhales 1, 2, 3, and exhales 3, 2, 1, and repeats. Clarke smiles at him, eyes soft. She knows now. Everyone knows. "Good job. Do you feel better?" Bellamy nods.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." And she shakes her head back, saying No need to thank me, Bellamy Blake, but Bellamy ignores it because he's thankful regardless of if she wants him to be.

"I get panic attacks too, and nightmares. About Mount Weather. I don't know what triggers yours, but whatever it is, it's okay." He doesn't know why he's surprised- everyone at camp had gone through Hell and back, Bellamy barely even touched the surface and here he was being a mess over it. Clarke continues. "Really, it is. It doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're stronger. You've made it past hard shit. You deal with it even though you should be over and done with it. That's impressive."

It's so nice to hear, especially coming from Clarke, her beautiful lips that can curse the darkest venom or the sweetest melody and he wants to kiss her and Oh God, this isn't just a crush. Bellamy loves Clarke. He doesn't think it; he knows it, and that's why it hurt so much when she said it was worth risking his life, why he stayed strong and never gave up, why she was the one he saw in the corner of his eye when he was high on pain and the stupid injection and Oh my God again.

None of that is good. None of that is Clarke and Bellamy love each other, it's all Bellamy loves Clarke but she doesn't love him and he's weak. 

(He'll never get to know that it was all because love was weakness, never know the nights she cried herself to sleep when they got back; not just because of it all, mostly because she saw Bellamy and that was her fault and what happened to I can't lose you too? They both wanted to know.)

But Bellamy hates that feeling almost as much as he hates himself because loving Clarke is stupid. Who could love him, let alone Clarke, after he failed? After he let himself get tortured? After he added to the scars he already had (even if it was just by one because he realized Abby would see), who could love him?

No one. So he doesn't tell Clarke he loves her.

Instead, he says, "I get them because of you." He wants to add, I hate you. I hate that I love you. I hate myself. Do you hate me too? Do you hate yourself for what you did to me? But he doesn't, and instead, he stands up and walks back into camp, leaving Clarke at the base of the tree with tears in her eyes and parted lips.

..

Bellamy Blake couldn't love, either.

Ratio of things Bellamy Blake can to cannot, do:

           3 : 10,001