Bellamy's skin prickled as he watched Kane, Lincoln and Sinclair silently march across the camp, Arkadia guards watching warily as they trooped toward the appointed execution grounds. Lincoln's eyes caught Bellamy's, the accusation and disappointment in his stare too potent for Bellamy to endure. Bile coated Bellamy's tongue as he dropped his gaze, searching for strength in the dirt beneath his feet. He could do this; he could withstand Kane's weary eyes and Lincoln's silent condemnation. Any other choice was unthinkable… their plan too fragile to withstand the slightest alteration. They had one shot at this and Bellamy would rather swallow the gun that rested heavily at his hip than be the reason for their failure.
It was key that he played his part, remained ignorant of any successes or failures of his fellow mutineers. So he forced his eyes upward, cold steel in his gaze as he met Kane's troubled stare. His fingers twitched against his legs, fear gushing through him in icy waterfalls, but his eyes stayed hard, his shoulders strong. He would do this even if it killed him.
Pike's warm hand burned into his shoulder, his repugnant words floating across Bellamy's skin. "I know this isn't easy, Bellamy, but we're doing the right thing. Trust me."
Bellamy made his head bob up and down. They were doing the right thing. His voice was strong, foreign as he murmured, "I do."
Appeased, Pike retreated, letting his heavy hand fall from Bellamy's shoulder. Pike turned toward the crowd that had amassed in the clearing, eager villagers gathering for a hanging. Bellamy's stomach dropped again and it took every inch of strength within him to remain standing tall, aloof to the torment within.
"We are gathered here for a somber occasion. One that I hope we will never bear witness to again. But the law is hard and as citizens of Arkadia, we must abide by it. The punishment for treason is death." He paused a moment, waiting for the hushed murmurs of the crowd to cease. "It is with great sadness that I carry out this act, but I am the Chancellor and I must follow the law."
Bullshit. Plenty of Chancellors had followed the law loosely, even in the days of the Ark. And now they were on the ground. There was no lack of oxygen to worry about, no real reason to justify capital punishment. This was all Pike and everyone damn well knew it.
Bellamy caught a glimpse of Jaha retreating into the crowd and wished he could follow. His eyes slid back from the crowd to Kane, Lincoln and Sinclair, lined up facing the wall of the food storage building. Bellamy's throat worked furiously, his body screaming for action, begging him to stop Pike before it was too late, before their blood stained his hands. But he stayed his hand, sweat tracing his brow and dripping beneath his collar, trusting that Clarke, Indra and Octavia were here, waiting for the opportune moment.
Bellamy watched Pike withdraw his gun, trembling fingers ghosting over his own. Soon. They would act soon. His knees shook and his heart beat frantically against his chest. Just as Pike's finger began to tighten on the trigger, the drugged darts rained down upon them, sticking securely in Hannah's neck and Gillmer's arm, but the dart intended for Pike bounced off his armor as he swung to face the attack. Other guards were dropping like flies now, but Pike was still standing, tightening his grip on the gun and swinging it back toward Kane.
There was no time to think, to judge or debate, only to act. Bellamy's finger was pressing the trigger before he even knew he'd raised the gun. The shot jolted him back to reality, his mouth wide with shock as Pike dropped to ground, blood spurting from the gaping wound in his head.
Then there was only noise, screaming and shouting, drowning him, driving him to the ground. He huddled there, head ducked beneath his arms, gun falling limply to the damp earth beside him, until the roaring in his ears abated and firm hands grasped his arms, hauling him to his feet. He blinked, tears leaking down his cheeks, as he stared into Kane's eyes.
"This was you." It wasn't a question. Bellamy nodded, voice caught in his throat, pulse still pounding a rapid tattoo. He caught sight of Pike's still body lying beside them, blood soaking into the Earth. His stomach turned and this time he didn't fight it, letting the waves of nausea wash over him as he bent and retched, what little there was in his stomach soaking into the bloody dirt.
He was trembling, mouth burning with bile, and eyes blurring as Kane helped him stand again, strong arm wrapping around his shoulders. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable."
Bellamy didn't have the strength to protest as Kane led him away from the blood, the smell of carnage fading as they moved toward the main buildings of Arkadia.
Time passed, neither quickly nor slowly, as he sat at the table, eyes boring sightlessly into its metallic surface. Kane had offered to stay, but Bellamy had been beyond communication, merely slumping further into his seat, chaos raging through him. Sometime Kane had left, but he hadn't paid much attention, barely hearing the clank of the shutting door.
He'd thought he'd reached the bottom, that he couldn't shatter into any more pieces, but he'd been wrong. Bellamy's whole soul was drenched in blood and all he could see was Pike's head blowing outward as the bullet met its mark. He wretched again, but only dry heaves wracked his body.
A knock on the door had him pitching upward, stumbling as he tried to find a more dignified position. The hatch swung open as he collapsed into the chair he'd been sitting in, breath jolting out of him in a hollow gasp.
"Bellamy?" Clarke's soft voice washed over him, his chest tightening as she turned to face him. He looked up at her, soul broken and eyes empty, barely able to see the shape of her.
She froze, her hand still on the hatch, eyes widening as they searched his face before running up and down his exhausted frame. Finally, she shut the door and came to kneel before him, her blue eyes glistening with moisture.
"I would never have asked you to do that."
She didn't need to elaborate. Bellamy knew exactly what she was talking about. He swallowed, throat raw and stinging as he rasped, "I know."
Clarke nodded, golden hair bouncing, as she settled onto the floor in front of him, her legs pulled safely up against her chest, chin resting on her knees. "It's over now. The guards we knocked out were put into lockup and Lincoln, Indra and Octavia are going to take Hannah and Gillmer to Polis."
His eyes shot up to meet hers, her face finally swimming into focus. "Not you?"
She stretched out a hand to grasp one of his, her small palm hot against his skin. "You were right. You told me to come home to my people and I didn't listen… and look what happened. I needed you, but I never really thought about you needing me. You always seem so strong…."
Bellamy laughed, the noise sudden and horrible in the quiet room. "Look at me, Clarke. Look at me!" He commanded, voice rising to a fever pitch. "Do I look strong to you?"
The volume of his voice strained his raw throat, but he ignored the pain, choosing to stare down at Clarke, daring her to contradict him.
"You are so damn strong, Bellamy," she hissed at him, her grip on his hand painfully tight. "You may not think it, but I know it. You'll get through this too."
Bellamy sighed, the fight draining out of him. "Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I don't deserve to."
"It doesn't fucking matter what we deserve, Bellamy," she insisted, voice infused with a steadiness he'd always envied. "There is no right and wrong down here. We've all done things we'd rather forget, that will haunt us for the rest of our lives, but we have to keep going because if we don't, what's the point? I have to believe there is something other than pain in this world."
He groaned, rubbing his free hand across his face, feeling the dirt smear beneath his fingertips. "Every time I dare to believe that, someone dies, Clarke."
She was silent for a long moment, her eyes misting over. Heaving a deep breath she looked back up at him, grief tugging at her visage. "You think I don't feel that way too? You think you're the only who's lost someone they love? I put the fucking knife in Finn's chest; I held Lexa in my arms a she breathed her last breath. I believe because of them. Because if I don't, what was their sacrifice, their fight? For nothing?"
Bellamy blinked, seeing her with a new clarity. He'd always believed they were so different, opposites that fit together to lead their people, but radically different people. But they weren't so different. They both cared deeply, both lost everything time and again. They were both fighting for a better world, even when they had no idea if one existed. Clarke had always been a co-leader to accept, a partner to depend on, but never another soul as tortured as his own. But the desperate light he saw in her eyes was reflected in his own. His pain was hers.
"How do we go on?" His voice was steadier now, but no less suffused with suffering and loss.
"Together." She pulled herself up to kneel within the vee of his legs, the heat of her branding him with hope. "We go on together. I promise I won't leave you again. I won't turn my back on my people, not again."
He inhaled deeply, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. "Together."
Later, after Clarke had gone, her tightly guarded grief at Lexa's passing finally breaking through in harrowing sobs that ripped through him like a panther's claws, Octavia stepped through the door. He had no idea what to say to her, his tongue tied in knots of regret.
She shuffled into the room, sinking down on the mattress beside him, the feel of her against his side unnatural. The silence stretched out around them, bundling them in shared remorse. Finally, her voice thick with emotion, she murmured, "I don't have much time, Indra's waiting for me." She paused, voice dropping to a strained whisper, "But I can't lose you like that, Bell, not again."
Bellamy swallowed thickly, sliding his eyes to take in her hunched figure, so different from the fierce warrior she'd been hours before. "I get that."
"I thought we understood each other," she burst out, swinging her head to glare at him. "We talked about it, that day at Mt. Weather. About how I didn't fucking belong here, how I need to leave. Were you listening to anything I said?"
He tried to remember, but all he could see was Gina's face, the dining hall at Mt. Weather, the deception of Echo's smile. He licked his lips trying to push through the haze of guilt and death, but it was no use. "I… I can't remember," he finally admitted, averting his eyes to the worn sheets between his fingers.
"Damn it, Bellamy!" Octavia exploded as she surged to her feet. "I understand you've been through hell, that we've all been through fucking hell, but what in the hell possessed you to forget everything we've learned down here, to forget me!"
Before rage would have surged within him bolstered by the cold understanding that survival came at a cost. Now, though, he had no answer to her accusations, no defense that held up against her indignation, her grief. Despite Clarke's decision to remain in Arkadia with her people, he was more lost than ever, a traitor to his people several times over.
The ache in his gut that the explosion at Mr. Weather had carved and that the massacre and ill-fated confrontation with the Gounder village had furthered, was larger, more volatile, pressing down on him with every breath. Bellamy understood only one thing for certain; he could not lose Octavia, his only remaining family, the epicenter of his skewed universe. He'd seen the hatred burning in her eyes, heard the venom in her lilting voice and could not bear that again. She was his family and somehow, he'd lost sight of that.
When had my sister, my responsibility faded from his consciousness? When had he decided that his sister was acceptable collateral damage making him no better than Clarke at Ton DC? He hadn't believed Octavia would be hurt, even after her role in the Grounder trap, but had he been so naïve as to think he could lock her boyfriend up and she would allow it, would not fight back with every fiber of her being? And then she would have been in the crosshairs, no matter how much Bellamy fought to keep her safe.
He sighed, the air shuddering through his lungs as he looked up at her expectant face, his eyes oozing remorse. "I don't know, O. I don't know…"
The fight seeping out of her, she collapsed beside him, her hands shaking as they clutched at his. "I meant it, Bell, I can't do this, not without you. I need you." She paused, her throat working silently as her eyes danced circles round his soul. "I know I act like I'm strong, like everything in life that hasn't killed me has just made me stronger. But I still fucking need you! You're my big brother and no matter what happens I want that to be true…"
He leaned into her, feeling her warmth, the steady beat thrum of her pulse against his skin. They were cut of the same cloth, tempered by the same flame, and he could not imagine a world without her. "I'll do better, O, I promise you."
She sighed against him, a breath of forgiveness and relief, as she nestled closer to him, her arms breaking free of his hold to anchor about his torso. "We'll do better," she amended. "We're in this together."
Together. Clarke's voice echoed through his memory. If they were going to survive, it would take all of them, together, to weather the coming storm. He tightened his grasp on his sister and tried to remember the sound of her laughter as she bounced on his back through their cramped quarters on the Ark, just a girl laughing with a brother, not a warrior crying with a monster.
Thank you all for coming on this journey with me!
Tomorrow we'll see how the writers deal with this... I can't imagine it'll play out like it did in this story, but I hope that some of the elements I addressed will be included. I have a feeling things might be so much worse and that the price will be much higher than I made it. We'll see.