Loves Lost

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: blake

O . . .

I'M SO SORRY

Each second of waiting felt like pure agony. Indra was gone, leaving Bellamy chained to the wall with no knowledge of what was happening at Arkadia. He should have been there. He could have helped. He would have helped. But instead, he was forced to endure the waiting. It was more torture than he had ever been subject to . . . because of who was involved. Because of who was at risk. He had given up trying to pace for the chains kept his mobility severely limited. He was sitting on the ground, his head in his hands when he heard the footseteps.

His head jolted up to see shadows starting to loom just outside the cave. Bellamy slowly rose to his feet, his eyes slightly widening as he watched them come in one by one. Small bouts of relief came over him to see who had survived -- Kyle among them even -- but he didn't see her. He didn't see Octavia. Until the end. Or what he had no known was the end until no one else followed. No. This wasn't right. They were missing someone. Bellamy just waited, and stared but when it was clear that no one else was coming, he had to ask. "Where's Lincoln?" But he already knew the answer. He could see it in Octavia's face . . . and he could already feel his heart start to break.

[blake]

Octavia Blake

---

I don't want to survive. I want to live.

---

Octavia's world had come to an end. She felt almost numb the whole walk back but that wasn't quite the right word either. She felt everything. She felt sorrow, and grief, and hate, and anger, and fear, and bitter, and a failure, and weak--she had watched the man she loved die. She had watched the man her BROTHER had supported and helped shot him in the head. She had stood there knowing that she would not be able to get justice for him. If death had no cost, life had no worth. Blood for blood. Lincoln had been trapped there. Trapped by Pike and Bellamy locking him up. Trapped because he wanted to belong when she told him they never would! She should have begged harder for them to leave. She never should have left him there.

O walked into the cave, and took off her jacket. She bunched her fists, and unbunched them. She hadn't trusted Bellamy when he wanted to talk. Not because he would want to turn her into Pike but because she hadn't known what else he was up too. Why did he want to help all of a sudden? Hearing him ask where Lincoln was, and having everyone look at her . . . They were going to make her say it. They were going to make her say the words. "Pike put a Bullet in his brain." She told him, not softening the blow at all. His friend! His chosen Chancellor. She wanted her brother back. She wanted him to make this alright! She wanted him to have done something before it got to this point! He had always taken care of the group, why did he have to decide this was the only way? O turned to look at him, and she wanted to hit something, or scream or . . . . she just wanted the pain to stop!

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: blake

O . . .

I'M SO SORRY

Her words made his heart sink; made it ache. Any semblance of hope that he felt, shattered. Lincoln was dead. The pain that Octavia must be going through was something he never ever wanted her to have to endure. Losing a loved one was never easy. He knew how much Lincoln meant to her, and the fact that he was gone . . . there were no words that Bellamy could say right now to make it better. Hell, there may not even be ones that she wanted to hear from him. She might hate him; she should. But that didn't stop him from trying to be her big brother. Despite the tension between them . . . he would never stop trying to be there for her, no matter how many times she rejected him.

 "O . . . " He began to say, his voice almost catching, slightly hoarser and lower than usual due to the pained emotion of discovering Lincoln's death. He instinctively took a step toward her, but the chains prevented him from doing much more than that. He couldn't move closer to her, he couldn't reach out to touch her, to hug her. He just . . . couldn't do a damn thing. So he looked at her, a plea in his eyes to let him be there for her, in ways that he had clearly failed before. She mourned the loss of her lover. He mourned the loss of a brother. And right now, he just wanted to do whatever he could to comfort her. Though, he doubted he held the ability to do so. He had to at least try, for remaining idle was not something Bellamy was used to.

[blake]

Octavia Blake

---

I don't want to survive. I want to live.

---

Bell said her name, but right now she didn't want him to be sorry! He had helped Pike get in command! He had helped lock up the grounders! Helped kill 3000! He had done all this, and NOW he wanted to be sorry! O turned to face him, anger clear on his face. She jumped forward, pushing him into the rock wall behind him. Her fist bunched into his clothes as she pulled him up to push him again, though only the first time had any real force. She wanted to hit something, but couldn't. The real source of her anger was hiding behind the walls that she had helped build!

O's face bunched as she cried, tears falling over her cheeks in messy disarray. Lincoln was dead! He had been apart of her life for a short time but that time was more powerful then almost any other relationship! He had taught her to believe in herself, and how to feel stronger, and made her who she was. He had loved her, and made her feel like she belonged to something! Something that was hers! Something she wasn't handed by her brother and mother, but something she'd earned! Now it was gone! He was gone! There would never be any more moments! Never be any more memories! They'd taken that from her! He had fought for the Sky People and Pike had killed him for it! Just like the Ark had killed her mother!

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: blake

O . . .

I'M SO SORRY

Bellamy didn't fight against her push. He was forced backwards, his back hitting the cave wall as she kept him in position. His eyes locked onto hers, seeing the tears fall freely from her eyes. He hated seeing her like that; he hated that she had to know the loss of a loved one. It was a pain that even he couldn't ease. Especially since she blamed him for it. Why hadn't they listened damn it! Why hadn't they heeded to his warning; why hadn't they let him help.

Lincoln was dead now, and there was nothing else that could be done. He knew that their mother's death was on him . . . and now Lincoln's was too. And he doubted, Octavia would forgive him for this one. But right now, all he could see was his baby sister, crying, in such pain. The last time she thought Lincoln to be dead, he comforted her. In this moment, he didn't know if she would allow him to but he had to try, trusting the brotherly instinct within him that perhaps, despite her fighting him and angry with him . . . she needed some form of comfort.

So he reached out, his bound hands making it difficult, but he tried anyway, slowly moving them to touch her face, using his fingers to brush away her tears. He didn't know what to say as his own eyes grew moist with tears, slightly shaking his head as he took in a trembling breath. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, barley audible, perhaps only heard due to their close proximity. But he had to say it none the less, practically begging someone -- anyone -- to take off the damn chains so that he could hold his sister.

[blake]

Octavia Blake

---

I don't want to survive. I want to live.

---

O felt someone move closer tot hem, and she wasn't sure who it was--as she didn't open her eyes to see right now--but she heard the metal click, and assumed someone was unlocking at least one, if not both of his hands. Bell had been touching her face, and his hands hand been moved while that happened, so she buried it into his jacket--that hated jacket. The guard's jacket. While she understood his need to be in it, she had hated how he had pulled Lincoln in with him. She hated the feel of it on her cheek.

"You did this," she cried, both meaning it and not meaning it. The Blakes had always lashed out at each other, but right now she could only think about how he had put Pike in power. That it had been his support that had gotten Lincoln locked up. That because he acted too late Lincoln was dead. Betraying her hateful words however, was how her fist bunched into his jacket, and how she pulled him toward her. "You helped him." Another accusation, and this one she meant.

She heard Marcus speak behind her, telling everyone they might want to move toward the cave toward and to give them a moment. O both didn't want to be around her brother . . . can didn't want to be anywhere else. She wasn't sure which way she would lean with time, but right now she knew she needed his support. He hadn't been the one to kill Lincoln, and she knew he wouldn't want this. Yet she also knew that Pike wouldn't have gotten power if Bellamy hand't given him the support and aid needed. They'd killed grounders. They'd started a war--they'd taken him away from her.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: blake

O . . .

I'M SO SORRY

Once his hands were released, the sting of the chains were temporarily ignored. Numbed by the pain of losing a brother, and his sister losing a lover. He knew what it felt, to lose someone you loved. Unbearable. Painful. Feeling as if the hurt would never subside. Her accusatory words made his heart ache. Telling him that he did this. Bellamy knew that his support for Pike had done some things but not everything. For his support was from the majority of Arkadia. Whether Bellamy was by his side or not, his tolerance for Grounders, for those opposing him, would have remained.

But now was not the time to point out such things. His understanding of Pike's motivations no longer relevant when faced with the death of someone they cared about. Bellamy clenched his jaw, unable to excuse his actions, though felt the need to point one thing out. He would be a scapegoat if that was what Octavia needed. He would be whatever she needed. His life was the greatest punishment of all; enduring the burden of guilt for so many lives. Lincoln's, would be added on to the load. "I tried to help you," he said in a quiet voice more sadness than anything else in his tone, his hand on the back of Octavia's head. Why hadn't she let him? So much had been at stake. He could have gotten Lincoln out . . . of only she had let him try.