Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is a bit darker than my previous Bellarke story and involves a much angrier Bellamy after Charlotte's death. The M rating is for potentially more mature chapters later on. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Bellamy watched as Clarke explained Murphy's exile to the rest of the camp. He respected the calm she seemed to carry with her like armor everywhere she went. But that was the only positive thing he could bring himself to think about her as he replayed Charlotte plummeting to her death over and over. Things had been going well. Progress was being made. And Clarke had ruined all that. He had warned her and she hadn't listened. She never listened.

Clarke's speech was winding down and he had barely said anything, just nodded at random intervals. The crowd had dispersed, but everyone lingered, gathering to discuss what had happened in small groups. Clarke wasn't sure how to take Bellamy's continued silence but the look on his face put her on edge. She looked up at the night sky and saw the clouds gathering there. There was a storm coming and she could see it reflected in Bellamy's face as well.

His voice was a low growl when he finally spoke, shocking her with the venom in his words and tone. "You just couldn't take my word for it, could you? You just had to be right, didn't you?"

She was uncertain how to react to his sudden volatility. "This-this was never what I intended, Bellamy."

His smirk was a grimace. "Your kind never intends anything, do you? You follow the rules because you make the rules. You don't intend for anyone to get hurt but you're always the ones doing the hurting."

Clarke could tell he was hurting, grieving for Charlotte and what had happened to her. He didn't realize Clarke hurt for Charlotte, too. Or he didn't want to realize that she hurt for all of them. Every single one of the 100 had probably had and/or watched a parent, relative, or friend be floated at some point. They were all victims of a failed society and none of them were to blame. But Bellamy wanted someone to blame and he had obviously chosen her.

She tried to remain calm and unaffected by his verbal attack, but she couldn't help the indignation that strained through when she spoke. "I'm not the Council. I'm not the Chancellor. I did as much choosing as you did. I don't know what else you want me to say."

He looked down at her, the righteous blue eyes, open face, and glowing hair. "You don't know? But you just knew Murphy killed Wells. I told you to wait. I saw how you handled what happened to Atom. I, for once, was going to stay calm. You expect that from me. But you flew off the handle because it was your friend who died. Apparently, you have very different expectations for yourself, Little Miss Perfect."

Clarke's own pain and anger boiled over and she couldn't hold back anymore as a light wind picked up, blowing leaves and swaying the smaller tree branches. "I'm not perfect! I never pretended to be anything I wasn't. I only expect honesty and hard work. From myself and from others. There's nothing wrong with that."

A growing crowd gathered even as rain started falling with stronger and stronger gusts of wind. Bellamy half expected Clarke to stomp her foot as she defended herself. She was such a brat. A spoiled, privileged brat. Lucky for her, she had him to put her in place, once and for all.

"You want honesty, princess? You want the truth?"

Clarke felt uneasy as he sneered down at her, a completely different person than the normally smooth charmer. But she wasn't going to let him see her break. She wouldn't let any of them see her break.

Octavia rushed forward trying to keep him from saying something she knew he would regret. The rain began falling harder and harder. "Bellamy, stop this! Not like this, not here, please!"

He looked down at his sister then around at the people gathered as the pouring rain soaked everyone's hair and clothes. He shook her hands off his arm. "No, Octavia! This needs to be said." He swung to face Clarke, the anger in his gaze hitting her like a flame. "Don't you get it, princess? The truth is I hate everything about you. Everything you stand for." He gestured to the people gathered around them. "We all do." Clarke gasped as each of his words hit her like a physical blow. He was in for blood tonight and nothing she said was going to take away the vicious glint in his dark eyes. She glanced at the faces around her and saw a few friendly faces among the resolutely angry ones. So very few.

She stammered as she tried to stay composed and answer him in front of the others. "I-I…okay."

Bellamy laughed bitterly and rolled his eyes. "Okay? Is that all you have to say? You always have so much to say any other time."

She looked at him, searching for something, anything that would make her believe he was the man she had once trusted, the man who had been so kind to Charlotte. Was she really so abhorrent that he would unleash this storm on her in front of the entire camp?

"I-I'm not sure what it is you want me to say. I am who I am. I can't change what happened to your mother. Or my father. I can't change what happened to all of us. I was wrong about Murphy. And Charlotte. And…I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry."

For the briefest of moments she thought something she said had broken through the hardness surrounding him, but as quickly as she saw it, it was gone. He really and truly hated her, she could see it in his face, feel it crackling in the air between them.

The water pouring down from the night sky stung as it hit the skin and Bellamy shook his head as his dry laugh echoed through the camp. "You know as well as the rest of us, Princess. Sorry is never good enough. Sorry doesn't change it." He turned and walked quickly away leaving Clarke to watch as the surviving members of the 100 slowly drifted back to their own tents and shelters. She was left alone in the clearing as the storm raged on around her.