CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"This is ridiculous."

Octavia glowered at the weary blonde, shaking her head in incoherent disbelief.

"They want you to come with them? And you're actually agreeing to this? They'll kill you Clarke!" She took a few steps forward, her rough boots hitting against the metal of the dropship with a harsh bang. Clarke sighed, turning away from her, and resting her hands against the cool metal of the table, allowing it to envelop the heat that was burning through her veins.

"What do you want me to do, Octavia?" She said quietly, her head only slightly turned towards the stubborn girl. "If I refuse, they'll kill you all. I made a deal and I have to honour it."

A harsh, bitter sounding laugh escaped Octavia's lips as she propelled her body forwards, turning Clarke by her shoulder, an almost snarl on her lips but desperation in her eyes.

"You said it yourself. Without you, none of us would have survived this far. You leave and forget about worrying for the winter – we won't make it until morning." Her hands were rough and calloused, and she could not shield the plea in her voice.

"Clarke, please."

She turned, removing herself from Octavia's grip and her oh-so tempting puppy dog eyes. Of course she didn't want to leave them, but there was already a price on their heads – a price she'd agreed to pay.

"That's not true. You'll be okay. I've been training a few people, and they should be able to handle it while- while I'm away," (when I'm gone without a hope to return) "I'll talk you through some stuff before I leave, I'll write it down and you can just-"

"We don't only need you for a medic, Clarke." Octavia's voice carried, strong and loud and harsh, and suddenly it was incredibly painful to have someone that cared. "You balance us out, you balance everything out. Without you we won't be a society – we'll be a wreck."

And then Clarke was glad her back was turned, because had it not been, Octavia would clearly see the pain stretching out across her features, the agony that leaked from her eyes and slipped sadly down her cheeks.

"You have Bellamy." She croaked, and fought hard to keep the heartache out of her voice, to keep her clumsy breaths steady.

Octavia let out an unsteady laugh. "How do you not see it yet?" She was almost shouting now, looking at Clarke like she was missing something so terribly obvious, like it hung in the air between them.

"He just doesn't work without you. It's like –like he's a blind man staring at the stars." Clarke had looked at Octavia as the shouting had begun, but now she dipped her head, secluding herself within the cold privacy of her own cluttered mind.

"I can't stay, Octavia. I can't, I'm sorry-"But the girl had already pushed past her, already reaching for the thick draping curtain that shielded them from the outside world, only sparing her a fleeting, meaningful glance over her shoulder, and her parting words.

"A blind man can't lead a war."

. . . . .

"Be ready, girl." He'd hissed into her ear, his thick fingers like casting irons on her arms, though he needn't have bothered brandishing her already tarnished heart.

"We'll come for you on first light. Don't run, don't plan any attack, we have warriors that will litter this ground with your corpses, and a recovery party in the waiting, should they not hear my command." She'd kept a straight face, allowing the putrid man only a brisk nod before they'd departed, a bloodied Anya in attendance. Perhaps she had been wishing for a plan of attack, some last resort that would mean her staying with her people, but as their warriors settled at the boundaries of the camp and the Commander's harsh words rung in her ears, any hope crumbled.

She'd do what had to be done.

Even if it cost her the most precious thing of all – her own life. (Except, maybe it didn't seem so precious any more. Maybe it stopped seeming so precious the day she took a life and stained her hands that ruby red.)

Of course, Raven and Octavia hounded her some more about her departure, of course they all did, the blood of Murphy on her hands miraculously forgotten now it seemed she would no longer be able to fuss over their injuries and daily acts of stupidity. She didn't blame them, hold their once fearful, distrustful gazes against them – how could she? She'd changed so much since they'd first come crashing down to the earth that she was barely able to keep track of her own life – so how could she expect them too?

No matter the amount of their begging words or pleading gazes, she would not relent. She told herself each time that they slouched away from her, hurt and bitter sadness clear within them, that everything she was doing, was for them. Every look and every word hurt them (and her) a little more, but she knew it was better in the long run.

The pain was bearable.

And much easier so, being as Bellamy had remained in his tent, still in recovery. She did not know that his words she would be able to resist, found it easier to instead leave their situation as it had been – the relief and unattainable joy at seeing some of the colour return to his paling skin.

Yes, it was easier this way.

And yet…

Was it not her duty, as a doctor, to see her patient in the best possible health before she left? And was it not her duty, as a responsibility to this friendship that had blossomed, to at least say goodbye?

She was doomed the minute she set foot in that tent of his.

. . . . .

His body was still, and she saw by the steady rise and fall of his chest that he was sleeping, peaceful in his unconscious state. She hesitated for a moment, thought about stepping back into the inky night air, and returning to her own sleeping furs, should she feel the comfort of home once more.

It was only for a moment however, and she easily relented as she came to sit by his side, reaching for the bowl of cold water she had brought with her, and gently mopping a flannel-like material over his still-warm head.

He stirred as she did so, blinking out restless sleep. He stared at her, eyes drilling into hers, a she continued her gentle movements.

"I had to say goodbye." She whispered, never stopping in her movements and never meeting his eyes. "I couldn't just... I couldn't."

He says nothing, though closes his eyes against the shake in her voice.

"I need you to say something. I know Octavia told you what I'm going to do, and I need you to tell me you understand." She's blinking out the moisture from her eyes now, and her breaths fall out unsteadily, each one tripping over the other. His hand (finally) reaches up to still her movements, and finally she drags her eyes down to meet his, and his gaze is warm, and fear so relentlessly clear there.

"You should've let me die." It's quiet, and it sounds like a resignation. She snatches her hand away from his, eyes wide and shaking her head so vehemently that Bellamy sits up a little straighter.

"No." She hisses, glaring at him now. He only stares back.

"We're going to fall apart without you, Clarke. If I had just done my job, and died before you could've made that deal then-"

"It's not your job to die, Bellamy! Leaders do what they think is right, and I know, I know, you're gonna get them through this, because I trust you, right now more than anyone else in the world. You won't let them fall apart, you hear me? You won't let them."

He shakes his head, and she thinks a muffled sob escapes from his broken lips.

"I can't do this without you."

She closes her eyes for only a moment, allowing herself a second, before she cups his face gently, tipping his chin so he has no choice to meet her eyes.

"Yes you can."

And it's only them. There is no argument, no nagging camper moaning outside the tent cloth, no impending war waiting on their doorstep, destruction and death clawing at the gate. Only them, with the night stretched out before them.

It's Clarke that leans forward to join their lips, hand reaching up to press against the back of his neck. It's only tender, a brushing of lips that yields to be so much more, and they're broken, craning against each other to fit their jagged pieces together, searching for a wholeness that completes.

He pulls back, only slightly, so that their noses still brush, eyes still closed.

"We-we shouldn't." He whispers, clinging to the smallest amount of control he can possibly regain as Clarke presses her shivering body against his.

She ignores his words, reaching to press her lips against his neck, light against rough skin, before kissing along his jawline, his cheeks, behind his ear, along the tip of his nose, before finally, waiting by his lips, breaths mingling with his.

"We should." And then she's crashing her lips against his with none of the tenderness from the first touch. He's almost hesitant until she bites down on his bottom lip, at which point, with the white flag waving high in the air, he concedes defeat, responding eagerly to her needy lips.

He pulls her towards him by the hips, sitting up straighter so she can straddle his lap. He pulls away from her mouth, only to plant hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin, teeth lightly scraping against the unbelievably soft skin of her slender neck, which causes a moan to tumble helplessly from her reddened lips. She pulls him back to her, pale fingers fisted in unruly curls, his tongue sliding along her bottom lip as she tugs impatiently on his thin shirt.

Within seconds it's on the floor, forgotten as her hands reach to skim along the exposed skin. He moans into her mouth as her fingers skim patterns along his broad stomach, fingernails scraping against the muscle in his arms.

"I… need..you, Bellamy, please." She pants, and he seems to understand, peeling away her jacket and top, large hands coming to rest of the bare skin of her stomach. She hooks her finger in his belt buckle, raising a challenging eyebrow. At this he smirks, and she falls off his lap as he stands to drop his trousers, leaving him only in his boxers. She allows her eyes to drift downwards, meeting his again only to see them fixed on her chest.

"Enjoying the view?" She challenges.

"Not as much as you, I'm sure." He shoots back, smug. (It truly is easy to forget that this may be their last night together, when they're both half naked and it's spent like this.)

Her lips curve as she takes a delicate step backwards, loosening her belt. He follows each step she takes until her back hits the corner, and she's kicked off her trousers.

He offers a sincere smile, and they find no words are needed as he leans down to gently cup her face, bringing their lips together once more. She smiles into the kiss, as his hands travel to graze her things, lifting her, and holding her securely against his chest as her feet entwine around his hips.

He leans her body back against the bed, knee wedged between her thighs, before moving to plant kisses along the length of her body, sucking at her collarbone and neck until they blossom a bright red, and darting his tongue out along her stomach. He begins to settle his head between her legs until she shakes her head, bringing him flush against her, and lifting, guiding his hands to the clip of her bra.

"Not now. Later. Now, I need.. I need you." She says urgently, and to emphasise her point, begins to push away offending pieces of clothing that settle between them.

She tilts her head back as he pushes into her, filling her so completely that it feels like she's exploding, body tearing apart as they breach the final hurdle between them. She reaches forward to bite into his shoulder as his fingers slip between their joined bodies.

She barely supresses a scream as she finds her peak, and she feels him do the same, panting breathlessly into her shoulder as they finish together. Not allowing him to roll away from her, she locks her arms around his neck and pushes their lips together, pouring everything she can into the single connection between them, needing him in that moment more than ever, before reality comes crashing back down, burning around them and smouldering the moment.

He pulls away, and it's then she realises he's crying, and so is she.

"How can you expect me to let you go now?" He whispers, and she can't bear his sobs, so as he rolls off of her, she pulls his back to her chest, covering their bodies with his furs.

"How can you expect me to stay?"

. . . . .

Honey I'm hooooooome.

Don't hate me guys, I know it's been a while, but I've kinda been putting this off because I'm getting closer to finishing it and that makes me sad. (ALSO, THE ANGST.)

I really will try to get you quicker updates, it just takes a while for me to sit down and WRITE.

Stay the amazing people you are and tell me your opinions on this chapter maybe?

Andie x