It's a second in a series of me re-writing canon so my OTPs are together (Jactavia, Bellarke, Murven). The 'book' that preceeds this is 'if you must mourn, don't do it alone'. You do not have to read the book that comes before this one unless you want to. The short of the things important to know is this: Jasper did not commit suicide. He ended up intercepting Octavia and went on a little 'Day Trip' with her instead of Ilian. They're together, so when Octavia won the bunker, she made them co-leaders. That's the most important things or things that might be mentioned in this book specifically. Whenever I get around to posting it, third installment of...geeze, like ten stories, is Murven up in the Ring during the years in space.

The title comes from Lonely Day by System of a Down.

DAY 0

"Clarke did what?"

"Yeah, she totally took the Nightblood herself. Instead of Emori," Murphy recounted, but he was still staring around the white lab like he didn't fully trust it, like he didn't fully trust Bellamy, "And then her mother smashed the radiation machine. Guess we'll never know if it worked," He said, hands in his pockets. He seemed angry, perhaps with good reason. To be so tantalizingly close to touching their freedom, their survival, and then watch it burn? Abby Griffin had floated her own husband for the good of the Ark, so yes, it did surprise Bellamy she'd pick Clarke over not just the Ark, but the entirety of the human race.

"You're a cockroach," Raven said as she passed them, her voice tight, "I'm sure you'll survive."

Bellamy expected a snarky response from Murphy, but instead, he just looked at Raven with something not quite pity but not quite sorrow. It was some odd mixture in between.

"Yeah," He just muttered in return, "I know."

"Where's the tests?" Bellamy asks, snapping Murphy back to attention.

Of course, Clarke put it in her own arm. Of fucking course she did.

It was such a Clarke thing to do, one that infuriated Bellamy to no end, if only because it's exactly what he would have done. Which is why they were always the ones standing at the end of the world, pulling a trigger, a level, and letting all the guilt fall on their shoulders.

He hadn't seen Clarke recently and doubted she'd tell him about her stunt, so instead, here he was, drawing it out of John Murphy. Murphy, from the sound of it, maybe owed Clarke a hell of a lot. Or, since they were going to use his girlfriend as a Guinea pig, perhaps they were all even now.

Or maybe it didn't even really matter.

Time was ticking away. The end drew nearer and nearer. Solutions were dwindling.

"They're over here." John waved to a place on the wall. It was clear of dust, as opposed to many of the other surfaces, which should have clued Bellamy in. Bellamy drew nearer, popping a lid on a small refrigerated container to reveal only one vial left, "Abby made about three doses. One, in a dead grounder. Two, in Clarke. Three...uh, if things had gone right, she would have made more and-The fuck are you doing man?"

Bellamy looked up, syringe plunged into his arm, right into a vein, the black liquid already half-way injected.

He didn't answer, as it seemed rather obvious. His mother always said either do things all the way or none at all, so he continued. It seemed to be giving Murphy a near aneurysm.

"That could kill you! We don't know what it does, fucking hell, and they say you're intelligent!" Murphy grabbed the now-empty syringe from Bellamy's hand, slapping it on the counter, "Sure, Clarke hasn't convulsed and died, but one sample size is not a sure-fire 'it's okay' sign. What if it has a delayed reaction? Why?"

Bellamy opened his mouth, unused to being the one being yelled at instead of the other way around, and by Murphy of all people (when the hell did he mature?), but the reply was really simple.

"Clarke and I shoulder everything together, I don't think this should be any different."

Murphy dragged a long hand over his face.

"Just say you love her and get it over with, you absolute idiot." He replied, stalking away, "You know, if you have a bad reaction and die from this, Princess will come after me, right? Didn't think of that...course not…" Murphy grouched all the way out of the lab.

Bellamy was left, blinking, as he found a piece of gauze and carefully wrapped it around the puncture hole.

What have you done? An inner voice asks one that suspiciously sounds like his mother. Bellamy stares at the black blood oozing from the wound, ruining the perfect snowy white bandage.

"What I've always done," He whispers to himself, "And what I'll always do."

He doesn't finish, not even out loud, but the last two words hang, the truth, something undeniable and immutable.

For Clarke.

DAY 1

He means to tell her. About the nightblood, that is. As far as he can tell, the only one who actually knows is Murphy. Raven or Abby might know the last of it is gone, but it's doubtful they know where it went. Actually, Raven might be able to guess. Even if it was ALIE that taunted him so, it was Raven's lips and Raven's mind, and she'd said something no one could deny.

As much as he'd loved Gina, it was always, always , going to be Clarke.

However, things just got busy. Not even busy, per se, but anxiety-inducing. Horrible. Stressful. Busy was used to describe when he had three things due on the Ark and a sister to keep busy. Busy did not describe the mad scramble for the end of the world that occurred.

His sister fighting for the bunker, for herself and Jasper. His sister winning, though he'd been kidnapped before he could see that. Clarke pointing the gun at him, and for one terrible second, imaging she'd actually do it. Knowing they had to pick only 100 people to survive on. Raven, calling and asking to be picked up. Going out to meet her, where they were now.

It's only been a week, but it seems like an entirely since he put that blood in his veins.

On the plus side, he hasn't yet keeled over and died. Neither has Clarke. That has to mean something good, right?

He's imagined how this conversation would go, a lot. It's something he knows he should tell her sooner, rather than later, but he also knows that if he does tell her, it will lead to other truths.

The sort of truth that Murphy so flippantly said in the middle of the lab, the sort of truth that probably wasn't as much a secret as Bellamy thought it to be. From the way that Harper was nudging Clarke close to Bellamy when they were close, or to the way that Raven would leave a room if either one of them came in to leave the pair alone, to Monty and Jasper making snide comments...yeah, it seemed everyone knew.

Except for Clarke.

Although, right now, there was something else he had to tell someone, something harder.

The static crackled, "-Goddamn, just answer...answer...Bell, Bell? Bellamy-,"

Bellamy jumped on the radio, steadying his breathing to sound normal as his sister's voice eked out of the bad connection.

"O! Wow, sibling telepathy, huh? I was just about to radio you." He said, forcing himself to sound fine, or else he might start to cry.

"Don't be so glib! Please, tell me you're only an hour away, and you've gone and taken a stupid break to pee or watch a deer or something?" Octavia pleaded, sounding much more like the small child that Bellamy knew rather than the ruthless winner of a fight-to-the-death competition.

Bellamy felt a lump deep in his throat, "O...we...shit." He couldn't force the words out. Why was it that when it mattered, he couldn't say anything?

"Bellamy? What is it?" Octavia knew something was up. Bellamy could hear Jasper talking to her on the other side.

Jasper was a good kid. He'd matured too. He was good for Octavia, as much as Bellamy didn't like to think of his sister in romantic relationships. They'd survive together, he knew it. He felt it in his bones. And, since he wasn't going to be there, he wanted someone who cared for his sister as much as he did. Jasper was that person. Jasper would help her through five years.

God, this was one of the worst things he'd ever done. His voice was a mere whisper when he finally spoke, sealing his fate.

"We won't be coming back."

XXxxXX

That conversation with his sister went just about how he expected it to.

Afterward, when he'd hugged Clarke after she'd gotten to say goodbye to her mom, it felt so natural. He'd almost said it, until they were interrupted.

The next time they were alone, Clarke was scanning and talking about algae farms. Here it was, at the end of the world once again, and Clarke was thinking of the next year and the next and the next. She was relentless in this way.

Bellamy had planned on going to find something else to do, until Murphy very purposely closed the door on him, glaring at him and then looking at Clarke. He may or may not have told Bellamy verbatim earlier that morning that 'he wasn't going to watch them make sad faces at each other five whole years or eyefuck without ever doing anything about it, so I swear to your favorite fucking constellation if you don't tell her I will'. Murphy didn't usually have a way with words, but there had been a certain je ne sai quoi to that threat. It was almost poetic if Bellamy hadn't been so equally embarrassed and horrified by it.

He knew Murphy would do it. Murphy pretty much never reneged on threats like that.

He, by this point, hadn't been necessarily planning on bringing up the whole nightblood thing. They were both going into space, so what did it matter? He thought that it would just come up eventually on the ring, and they'd laugh about it, and maybe prick their fingers to show their blackened blood. Or, he'd wait until he nicked himself on some sharp object and watch as Clarke realized it.

Did it matter if he'd taken the nightblood?

Yes you idiot, it makes a huge difference! Ah, that voice was uniquely Octavia's. Good to know he had a whole host of women telling him what he was doing wrong all the time, in his mind. Or, maybe it was just because he didn't want to let Octavia nor his mother go?

Either way, his inner voice was right...again.

And he joked with Clarke, just like they had, once a long time ago. It felt really...right.

This was the time, wasn't it? To let her know what he'd done, to tell her it was for her?

Clarke opened her mouth first, "If anything happens to me-,"
Bellamy felt his blood run cold.

"Nothing is happening to you." He said gruffly, angry at the very thought, "Now, come on. Let's run these numbers again."
"Bellamy. Please. I need you to hear this." Clarke grabbed his wrist. Bellamy expected Clarke to spout off technical information, like how to fix wounds, to give him a crash course on medical knowledge in case she wouldn't be up there.

Which was preposterous. Bellamy wouldn't allow that. He didn't want to hear Clarke's instructions. She could goddamn tell him when they were both on the ring.

"We've been through a lot together, you and I," She began, her voice so soft that Bellamy wondered if she was okay. It was so...reminiscent. So unlike Clarke, "I didn't like you at first, that's no secret."

Bellamy allowed a smile, recalling how he couldn't stand her. He'd found her attractive, which had pissed him off more. And, though it had hardly been a year, he felt like he'd known Clarke for so much longer.

"But even then, every stupid thing you did, it was to protect your sister. She didn't always see that, but I did. You've got such a big heart, Bellamy. People follow you. You inspire them because of this, but the only way to make sure we survive is if you use this too."

Bellamy licked his lips. How could he explain that it had never been him, doing it all alone? That it was a joint effort of both of them? Things went to shit when they were apart, didn't she see that?

"I've got you for that," Was all he managed, his fingers twitching, almost reaching up.

"Bell," Clarke whispered, almost painfully, "Let me just...say something." She begged.

"Tell me on the ring," Bellamy said, hating how her tone was, "Tell me then. Please, not now." This sounded like a goodbye. Bellamy couldn't do another, not after he just said goodbye to Octavia.

Any rebuttal Clarke was about to say was lost in the frantic sprint to the end of their launch point, starting with Raven unromantically breaking up their moment with a string of about eight cuss words.

There will time for words; all of them, later.

xxx

There wasn't time, or there seemed there would never be.

As Bellamy stood in Becca's lab, counting down the seconds, he couldn't help but think that Clarke's premonition that something would happen was correct.

What if he needed this information later? Whatever she was going to tell him.

In his head, to keep himself from worrying too long, he ran through that last conversation again. Not the one where Clarke had told him to hurry, because that wasn't more than quickly passed words. She'd looked like she was going to say something else though, from the way her eyes had scanned his face and her eyes had just held his, and this moment felt like forever.

It had felt like when she was trying to tell him whatever held her mind's attention, in the lab. It had sounded like-

"Fucking hell, I'm an idiot."

"Yeah! What else is new?" Murphy yelled from the rocket, "So get your ass in here, right now, okay?"

"No, I…"

Bellamy sent a frantic look back to the rocket, where six pairs of eyes watched him with anxiety, flickering to the door too, waiting for Clarke to arrive.

"Bellamy, we have to go." Raven said, her voice breaking, "We have to, right now."
"She was trying to say she loved me," Bellamy said, as though that explained everything. He took two strides up to the cockpit, starting the close the door. Murphy lunged, stopping it.

"What the fuck are you doing man?" He demanded.

"You all go. Now ."

"Not without you? Bell, just get in," Harper's voice blubbered.

"What are you doing?" Murphy repeated.

"I'm going to find Clarke!" Bellamy said frantically.

"The radiation's already affecting the avionics," Raven reminded the group nervously, "We have to go-,"

"No! Not until Bellamy gets in the goddamn rocket," Murphy snapped, daring Raven to argue, "Are you stupid, Blake? Don't answer that. Just let's go."

"I can't," Bellamy said heavily.

"You're both going to die here! You won't even find her and you'll both die alone." Murphy argued.

"I can't leave her," Bellamy said resolutely.

"What am I going to tell Octavia?" Monty asked, "That you died, for what? Bellamy, please, I get it, but would Clarke want you to die for nothing?"

"You know exactly for what, Monty!" Bellamy said, looking hard at Harper, who was trying hard not to sob. His words did give him pause, but only to consider that Clarke had claimed everything he'd ever done was for Octavia. That was only partially true.

He'd given his sister seventeen years. As much as he loved Octavia...he loved Clarke more.

Bellamy didn't want to live in a world where Clarke was dead. He'd rather die too.

"Bellamy, we have to go now. Get in, please," Raven implored.

Bellamy gave a wry grin to the group. He made it seem like he was climbing in, but at the last second, slammed his hand on the automatic door lock, and dove back out.

"Till we meet again," He said to his friends as the rocket door closed. He looked back at the faces watching him in utter horror and backed up, right through the safety door a second before it closed.

He watched the rocket rise up, waving goodbye, though they could no longer see him.

They'd survive.

Him, though?

He looked at his skin, the darkened blood flowing through his veins, "Well," He said, "It's now or never, Nightblood." He prayed.

He started pacing near the front door.

Would Clarke even come back? Should he go looking for her? Was she knocked out somewhere? Did she even manage to do what she had set out to do?

What if the group got up there and they just suffocated, because something had gone wrong on Clarke's end?

Bellamy hated all these unknown variables.

He opened the door to the front and saw a wave of literal fire coming his way. It was, single-handedly, the most terrifying thing Bellamy had ever seen.

Across the field, he thought he maybe saw someone running. He blinked. Was he imagining it? The heat of the fire was making funny waves, messing with his vision.

He opened his mouth to call out but was almost bowled over by the combined heat and toxicity of the wave. A thought went briefly to his sister, hopefully huddling with Jasper, safe, waiting for their five years to come up.

The next thing to hit him was a pain. He threw off his glove to see boils, red and raw, breaking across his skin.

Of course, this suit wasn't meant to survive the apocalypse. It was meant to deal with up to near-extreme radiation. They'd just hit extreme.

Bellamy stumbled, feeling his throat tighten. He was dizzy.

Fear gripped his heart; it wasn't working. He was dying.

His single thought was to make sure he saw Clarke, even just one more time before he died. If there was heaven out there, Bellamy doubted it would welcome someone like him. And, his hell would be to never think of Clarke again, never see her face, never hear her voice, never touch her soft skin. Therefore, he was resolute in his last wish.

Bellamy slipped backward, landing hard on the floor. He felt vomit rise up in his throat and his fingers scratched to get his helmet off. He threw it off just before he barfed.

It wasn't bile. It was blood. Black, ominous, and unending. He coughed onto the ground, his head fuzzy and his thoughts no longer entirely coherent.

He slumped against the floor, watching his skin break and fizzle. The lights in the lab flickered out, around him items fell from the shelf, smashing on the ground.

Just please...if there's any God anywhere...if I've ever done anything right...just let me see Clar-

His head swam and a black wave rose over his eyes, sending him into nothingness.

XXxxXX

Clarke stumbled into the lab, her hand pressed over the break in her helmet. It didn't really matter, the air around her was deadly enough that it would have gotten through an inch of air here or there, one way or another.

Clarke couldn't stop thinking about all the symptoms, all the things she'd go through while dying of radiation poisoning. It was times like this she really hated having a doctor for a mother, because after her mom had smashed the incubator, Abby had gone through in explicit detail the horrors Clarke would have faced.

It seemed to all work out in the end anyway. Here she was, dying, exactly as her mother had explained.

You're going to hemorrhage next; remember how that felt? A year ago?

Clarke choked out blood onto a table, wiping her hand across her chin, like being clean and presentable was even worth it at this point. Her legs buckled out from under her. Clarke slammed onto the ground, her breath wheezing.

It wouldn't have worked...at least...at least Octavia and Jasper are safe, and I know Raven can do it. Bellamy, god, forgive me…

She rolled onto her other side, wanting to groan, but the feeling caught in her throat. Across the lab, where fuzzy black things danced on the edge of her vision, she saw another slumped figure...it looked like Bellamy.

Was her wish that she could have said what she meant to say so great that she was hallucinating him here? It would make sense...her mother warned her of this. That she might feel like she's going mad, and see things that aren't there. She'd always thought it would be worse things, terrifying things.

Seeing Bellamy in her final moments was the best thing Clarke's mind could have come up with, the most soothing idea that existed.

She blinked and the fuzzies vanished.

Bellamy did not.

Panic gripped Clarke as she had the very terrible thought that this actually was Bellamy, physically here, dead in front of her.

The idea that she was seeing a dead Bellamy caused Clarke to actually vomit, the idea so disgusting and agonizing that she couldn't form words. She reached out her finger, although he was yards away, as though she could touch him.

She passed out, her finger stretched as far as she could reach, trying to get to him.